#They ended up sharing rooms and stuff happens so...lets keep it PG

[lunarkyx]

Did Some Top Hat Sketches! Tho it was more Horace x Madge tbh (Oto K TT^TT) Idk why but Maiti and Oto K made their relationship a lot cuter than the 2015 version. Also, Beddini ❤️  

[ignify-caligo]

[COD HEADCANONS II]

note: this is like 1/3 of what I wrote today - mainly the big once with a plot rather than quick hc’s. Any feedback about characterisations would be appreciated - been trying to get a feel for the bois personalities and so forth.

previous posts: I

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Alejandro & Rudy

Alejandro has quite a big family. Especially in the younger generation department, his siblings have “blessed” him as he calls it with a merry bunch of nephews and nieces. Tio Ale is by far the favourite uncle of la familia Vargas’ kids, with all the fun and wild stories of training in the Mexican wild or how all those different scars that Alejandro brandishes as if they are medals came to be (Of course those stories are in an appropriate format, keeping the stuff PG for little kids). He even sometimes lets them join a mellow down but nonetheless training session during his off hours at his family’s farm.

The giggles, the sound of a stampede running around and the almost visible sparks of pure excitement filling the farm’s yard are true music to Alejandro’s ears - the fact that this is possible thanks to his watchful eyes keeping the dark of Las Almas far away from his loved ones is a true confidence bust to him. Even though his relationship with his nearest has become a rocky road thanks to his involvement in Las Almas’ problems and risks associated with them.

Though it quickly becomes apparent he has competition for the title of “greatest uncle”. Rodolfo gets swarmed by the children whenever he gets invited to dinner or simply when he appears without a warning because truth be told; he was always a part of the Vargas family, even before his military service at Alejandro’s side. The fact that being the only child of his family, doesn’t necessarily render Rodolfo helpless in managing the little demonios! Quite the opposite, it sometimes seems that between Rodolfo and Alejandro, the former has much more insight into the group dynamics and control than the latter.

Apparently, it’s thanks to his habit of bringing small homemade sweets to share with the Vargas kids, a little side of churros here and there - and the end result is complete allegiance between Seargent Parra and the little ones. Alejandro’s exasperated sigh followed shortly after with “You’re teaching them how to bribe people, mi alma” comes out of him each time whenever he sees what’s happening behind his back, almost as precise as clockwork. The immediate response tends to be “And you are contributing to it by stating the term, coronel.” with a broad smile brightening Rodolfo’s features.

Sad Couch Hour

Roach tends to have problems figuring out why exactly his emotions are in a specific state; where he sporadically tends to become a husk of his usual bubbly personality. Whenever this happens, he ends up on the same couch (often referred to as his comfort couch) in the lounge room at 141 HQ, face buried against the couch with his back towards the room. In that state, he doesn’t fall into a peaceful sleep but something like a deer in the headlights state, blankly looking at the couches seams or treads coming off of it. thoughts running 100 km per hour.

The others at HQ quickly caught up to it and reacted accordingly - by making their presence known in the room. By either chatting, putting on one of Roach’s favourite shows or simply playing music from “Bluey”, their goal is to set a calming atmosphere for Roach in need. Knowing someone is around makes it easier for Roach to crawl out of the pit he got himself stuck in, later these situations get jokingly dubbed “Sad Coach Hour” by Soap and Gaz.

The surprising development of the Sad Coach Hour was to see the others end up on that same coach whenever they felt down too. Especially Ghost, overworked every once in a while ended up curled up on that flimsy thing like a cat. Whoever ends up on that coach gets immediate peppering from the others members of 141 - of course not overwhelmingly so; they would never wish to worsen the already sour mood of the coach occupant. A favourite beverage on the nearby coffee table there or covering them in a warm blanket there, it’s all about the small things. It steadily grew into an inside joke and a common practice among the members of the 141 task force.

Christmas Plushies turned Emotional Support

Once during exchanging gifts on Christmas Eve, Laswell presented the whole 141 task force (read: Price, Gaz, Ghost, Roach and Soap) with different designs of reversible plushies. One common detail between them was the similar expressions on those sides: one smiling while the other was frowning. When confronted about her motives behind these gifts her reply was simple and curt: “All of you have the skill of showing emotions like a stale cracker. These plushies are to help you with better communication with each other.”

At first, there was reluctance to use the plushies as Laswell intended, though both Roach and Gaz were the first to bend. The others were quick to respond whenever they saw the plushies being “sad-faced” which ultimately became the reason why they all use them to some degree. Some like Ghost and Roach are more prone to using them because they don’t have to physically and verbally say anything besides switching the plushy’s face. Price even though he believes himself to be enough of an adult to refrain from using his plush - he too gives into it from time to time after seriously difficult missions.

The type of plushie each one of them got:

Price - Wolf & Sheep Ghost - Spooky Kitty Soap - Siamese Kitty Gaz - Turtle Roach - Among Us Bean

GhostRoachSoap Sleeping

Roach is the designated middle in the GhostRoachSoap sandwich, whenever they manage to fit themselves into a cot.

Ghost on the other hand prefers to have his back against a solid wall - he feels more secure knowing the danger doesn’t have an advantage on him for sneaking, plus the extra credit of having his eyes on the room. Makes his mind go at ease much easier than with his back turned against open space.

Soap designated place ends up being back towards the door because of his need to be the one to confront whatever “the danger” may be (this has a great connection to his self-sacrificing tendencies). He wishes to keep both Ghost and Roach from danger as long as he can - doesn’t share this with them directly though. His excuse for keeping himself in that spot is his apparently small bladder and the frequent toilet trips he makes during the night. Soap ultimately doesn’t wish to crawl his way through the bed and irritate them both with his constant walking out of the bed.

Ghost and Soap happen to switch from time to time, especially after hard operations - where Ghost needs to know that John feels extra protected for once during his sleep.

Another sleeping position they favour, especially Soap and Roach is having Ghost become their pillow (that man has giant tits under all that gear) while he holds them close to his side.

[kamino-blues]

Self-Care With the Bad Batch

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: brief mentions of nudity (non-sexual), references to making out

I’ve been really focused on self-care recently due to coming off of finals week, so I wanted to write the Bad Batch participating in some self-care with the reader! Hope you enjoy!

Hunter

Hunter had witnessed you doing face masks after long missions, relaxing on your bunk with your eyes closed

He at first thought that you looked kind of silly, especially with the paper facemarks that you frequently bought for easy application

But seeing how relaxed you looked, he secretly really wanted to try one

It didn’t come out until late at night when you and him were having a conversation about his senses

He thought that it could be a way to calm down his senses when his senses go into overload

Hunter mentioned this to you, and you automatically got up and looked through your face masks, pulling out a bottle and two headbands

You had been preparing to ask him if he wanted to try one out, but finding a time through the chaos of missions and time away from his brothers was hard

You showed him the one that you specially picked out for him, it being a scentless calming mask that you had picked up on Coruscant

Hunter was incredibly awkward with the whole process at first, not knowing exactly what to do

So this is why you took over!

You quickly grabbed one of the headbands (It was a light red and had small Tooka shaped ears on the top), and moved to sit in front of him

He ended up pulling you into his lap, giving you a quick kiss before you started your magic

You gently took his famous headband off, not wanting to get mask on it, and ran your fingers through his hair gently

He leaned into this touch, absolutely loving it when you do that

You finally pulled his hair back in the headband that you had bought him, making sure no hair was on his face

You would usually use a brush, but you figured it would be more intimate to use your fingers to put the mask on

Hunter had his eyes closed, flinching a tiny bit as the cool liquid came in contact with his skin

After a few moments, you had coated his face, and you ended up giggling because of how his tattoo was completely covered

He raised an eyebrow at that, before you jumped off him and let him look at himself in the mirror

As he stared trying to figure out the mask, you had quickly put on your matching headband and started placing the face mask on

Hunter noticed this, and lightly grabbed your wrist to stop you, grabbing the tube to put the mask on for you

It was a little bit of a messy process, but after a few minutes he managed to evenly get it on

After he had washed his hands, you dragged him back to his bunk, his arm around you as you both unwound from the long day

This became a daily activity, Hunter not giving a shit if the others teased him about it

Crosshair

It was not often that the Bad Batch stayed on planet in someplace other then the Havoc Marauder

But this was one of the rare occurrences, there being three rooms to share between the six of you

You and Crosshair were sharing, which was absolutely perfect

The two of you had been together for a while at this point, completely comfortable with each other

So when you discovered that there was a bath with a whole slew of products to put in it, you were over the moon

Crosshair wasn’t a big self-care kind of guy, you had tried to get him to do a face mask once, but he refused profusely

You quickly got the bath started (It was a nice bath, probably the largest you had ever seen), putting lavender bubble bath in

Walking out, you saw Cross laying on the shared bed, arms crossed with his eyes closed

You called out to him, asking him if he wanted to join you in the bath

He stared at you for a second, then nodded with a smirk

You were honestly shocked at how fast he agreed (but you weren't complaining)

You quickly grabbed your sleep clothes (aka one of the tops of Crosshairs blacks and some shorts) and placed them on the counter in the refresher, and started undressing

You were in the bath before Crosshair walked in, completely engulfed in bubbles (yeah you accidentally put to much in but shhhh the more bubbles the better)

He rolled his eyes at this, a small smile on his lips as he pulled off his shirt off

You turned away, giving him his privacy as he slipped out of the rest of his blacks, feeling the water behind you shift as he stepped in

Once he settled, you automatically leaned back into him, his arms slipping around your waist

No words needed to be said in this moment, both of your eyes closed as you both basked in each others presences

This was one of the things that made you fall in love with Crosshair, the ability to communicate with actions instead of words

You and Cross stayed in the water until it got cold, him pulling you into a kiss before you got out

You quickly got changed, him following suit before heading to bed

This evening made Crosshair definitely consider getting the batch to stay off ship more often

Tech

When you first started traveling with the Bad Batch, you weren’t able to bring all of your usual skin care with you

So you trying to adjust with what you had was difficult- especially since most of the soap that was on the ship was the basic GAR supplied soaps

The first time you guys stop on Coruscant and you have free time, you are automatically stopping at a drugstore to at least get some of the basics

While holding a container of moisturizer, you heard someone behind you tell you that the brand isn’t a good choice

Startled, you almost drop the container as you turn around, coming face to face with Tech

You two had been dating for a few weeks at this point, and you hadn’t even realized that he had followed you on your little outing

He held onto your shoulder, helping you pick out different brands that you had not even heard of

You truthfully weren’t expecting him to know so much about skin care, but you were truthfully grateful for it

When you both got back to the ship, Tech pulled you into the refresher, closing the door behind him

You were startled, but when he pulled out the stuff that you both had bought it clicked quickly what he was doing

He brought his hands to caress your face, slowly moving into your hair so that he could pull it back for you

Tech started putting what you guys had bought on your face, the experience being a lot more intimate than you expected

By the time he was done, your cheeks were bright red, and you leaned up to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck

It ends up in a make-out session, both of you leaving the bathroom a flustered mess

Every time you guys were on a planet with a store selling skin-care products, Tech would always want to check it out with you

He ends up making a skin-care routine for you <3

After a while he joins you in the routine, solely just so that he could feel your touch when you applied it to his face

Tech never lets you do this by yourself, he always wanted to help (He enjoyed talking to you while he helped you, plus being able to make-out after was a great motivator)

Wrecker

Wrecker wasn’t one to slow down, if he had it his way he would be moving 24/7

You had tried to do face masks with him before, but he much more preferred to unwind in other ways

He absolutely loved to work out, so you decided to ask him if he wanted to do a small workout before you headed off to bed

Wrecker agreed automatically, giving you a big thumbs up

You were usually pretty tired by the end of the day, so you figured that you could get him to possibly try yoga

But before you dropped that question on him, you started with a jog, running around the area outside of the ship

The atmosphere was so peaceful, him keeping pace with you as the sun's setting on the planet you were on faded in the distance

He was just wearing his blacks, and you were just wearing a simple workout outfit that you had on hand

Around halfway through the jog, he reached over, grabbing your hand with a huge smile

If you got tired, he would stop you, quickly picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms wrapping around his neck

You would press kisses against the side of his head and neck, while Wrecker jogged back to the ship

You felt so secure in his embrace, his arms holding you safely in place

Once you get back to the ship, Wrecker lightly pulled you away, not without pulling you in for a kiss

When you were back on your own two feet, that was when you threw the question out about ‘yoga’

You convince him to do it by challenging him to see who could do the tree pose the longest

It becomes a huge competition, lots of giggling and trying to get the other distracted so they would fall over

Wrecker ended up falling first, you laughing as you went out of the pose to run over to him, plopping down next to him to jokingly gloat about your victory

He quickly managed to shut you up by pulling you into his lap and putting his lips on yours

Echo

The Bad Batch moved around so much with the amount of missions they had, so it was hard to stop and focus on what’s happening around

So you and Echo had developed a routine when you were planet-side

Bringing two of the light spare blankets from the ship outside, you would both hunt for a perfect clearing to settle down for the evening

You would sneak snacks out, and lay one of the blankets out to have a makeshift picnic

Now the main event wasn’t the picnic, but it was fun swapping stories with Echo about both of your pasts

Since you were away from Echo's brothers, catch you guys sneaking secret kisses

He was still trying to get used to a lot of contact so it wasn’t anything that steamy, but you both enjoyed it <3

When the sun set, you would pull that second blanket out, pulling it over both you and Echo

He would pull you against him, your backs hitting the ground as you stared straight up at the stars

Echo would start to point out different stars, jokingly trying to figure out what shapes they were making

You would quickly join in, making up stories about the different speckles in the sky that you could see

After a while you would both go silent, just taking in how peaceful the atmosphere was

Catch you falling asleep against Echo, him realizing after a while and looking down on you with a small smile

He would pick you up bridal style (Him being extra careful since of his arm prosthetic), bringing you back to his bunk

Echo would quickly run back, grabbing the blankets you had left out there

Shifting you carefully, he would hold you facing him, both of you lying under the blankets that you had hoarded

He would kiss your forehead, before you both drifted off to sleep

[symphonic-scream]

fma au chloix? Ur hcs about them are always great no matter what au

Skdidbdnsbdb

Cap and I have had many a conversation about this cause I can't shut up about this au or about them

Combing the two has made me into a monster

So, I present, as much as I can remember and be bothered to type out about them. Enjoy

Stuff to sum up what should be known: Alix is the mechanic slash automail engineer for Juleka, but she has a capacity to use alchemy and she's the only one that knows she's the last living person to know the secrets of flame alchemy. Chloe is the commander of the northern base, Fort Briggs, transferred after her mother had a huge scandal

So at one point Luka and Juleka need to head up north, and Juleka's arm and leg freeze up, and they need to call Alix up to fix it. When she arrives up North she had a drink on the train, and at first sight she's just, in Love with Chloe. She had a bunch of flowers she bought from tipsyness and there's way too much, and she bought them as "get well soon" flowers to mock Juleka but thats out the window

Chloe: hello, Mechanic, Guardian, and, Guest. Welcome to Fort Briggs. I am Major General Bourgeois, and I will be escorting you-

Alix: HEEEEY YOURE PRETTY, I GOTCHU SOME FLOWERS~

Chloe: i- I'm sorry, is she drunk??

Nathaniel: honestly I have no idea

The answer btw is no, she's not drunk, just acting drunk in case her flirting isn't well received. But, it very much is. Chloe is very intruiged, finds this actually charming. She is also basically in love at first sight

Chloe: oh noo we didn't anticipate these two random men we only have one spare room, oh where will Alix stay-

Juleka: she can share with me

Alix: *glaring and hissing* DONT. RUIN. THIS. FOR. ME.

Juleka: ...nevermind

Chloe: okay, well- ahem, I suppose I can set you up on my office couch

Well. Alix doesn't end up on the couch. I'll assume y'all can figure out where she ends up sleeping but just know. PG-13.

Plot shit happens, Alix stays in the Fort Longer. Everyone who lives there full time is weirded out cause like. Their cold, mean-affectionate leader is like a lovesick puppy suddenly, but only around or towards this snarky, little mechanic

Alix does have to go back to her apprenticeship eventually, so they do spend 6 months apart. They do mail each other letters. Chloe sends Alix scrap metal to make shit with, Alix has flowers sent up north since they tend to die. Oh, and the overly cheesy, grossly romantic letters

They don't meet up again until the final fight segment. So uh. Trying to keep away from too many spoilers for FMA, won't do those unless y'all ask and then I'd give a warning. But there is a big climax fight

So by this point the cat is out of the bag, Alix has shown she can use flame alchemy but she really doesn't do it often cause her mom wouldn't want her to use it violently

But she gotta cause big climax fight. Long story short she ends up super injuring her hand before she meets up with Chloe and they have a moment

Chloe: h-hey! You're here! I missed- oh, darling, what happened to your hand?

Alix: ah, I'm okay, love, I promise. Just, my little sacrifice for the greater good,

And Chloe takes her injured hand and kisses it all sweet,

Felix: what the fuck gross

Fight happens, fight ends, and epilogue. Chloe gets transferred back to the main city where Alix lives, and they move in together over Alix's new automail shop. They ask their friends to help them move in, all without telling them they got married.

Cause they got married

Alix made their rings herself, smelted them with her own flames to honour her mother and all that. Her dad who is alive and shit and back, he signs off on the marriage and that's that they're gross and domestic and in love forever

I hope this is what you were looking for and if not, let me know so I can talk about them even more

[itsstrange]

Forelsket

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: Haven’t posted in a few days due to school work and other idiotic stuff that’s playing in my life right now, also because I’ve been working on another story that someone had requested which is taking me some time, But please enjoy this Short story of this dashing of a man! 💗✨

Summary: Jensen just can’t hide his feelings anymore during an interview, he finally decides to make a move, no matter the outcome at the end.

Word Count: 1,151

Warning: (None) Kissing, fluff,

Gif by: @justjensenanddean

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Enjoy! 💚✨

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While doing an interview you happened to crack a smile along with a soft giggle when the reporter asked a certain question, what you didn’t notice was your giggle and smile had attracted Jensen. Just like it always does.

“Oh man,” He slightly whispers as the corner of his lips begin to lift,

It was at that moment he realized, he was madly in love with you.

You were absolute breathtaking, your smile alone was enough for him, it has been, for five years now. When you first appeared on the show he was taken back by your talent and beauty, but never thought too much about it. It wasn’t until he got to know you well when his feelings began to develop fast. He’s shared his feelings with Jared, even if he knew he would get teased by the giant every time you’d walked by, but he never did share them with you. Fearing you wouldn’t see him the same and fearing in ruining your friendship, even if he had a feeling you did feel the same with all the flirtatious comments you both send each other, Jensen kept his hope to the side.

But now with five years passing and your friendship only growing stronger, along with his feelings, he was on edge of breaking. Only thing stopping him was his conscience. However, seeing you in your favorite AC/DC t-shirt, with your hair flowing perfectly down your shoulders and wide smile plastered on your face finally made the knot break loose in his chest. He was doing it. Officially.

Once all the interviews were taken care of and all the cameras have stopped rolling, Jensen made his way over to you, placing his hand on your waist as both your handlers escorted you both out of the room. You smile up at him and snake your own arm around his back as you two walk down the hallway and towards the elevators. While waiting you let your head lean against his shoulder, but soon feel fingers gently lifting your head up and then a pair of lips against your own. Immediately, you smile against his lips and kiss back.

“‘Bout time Ackles,” You whisper to him, a smile plastering on his own face before bending down once again,

You two pull away when the elevator stops on your floor, but don’t pull away from each other’s hold when you two get on. Riding hand in hand, you let your head rest on his shoulder once again, letting a happy sigh escape from your lips. Five years. Five long fucking years it has been of you keeping your feelings tucked away. Shielded from the world, well the only one who knew would be Gen, after three glasses of whine you had just spilled it all on her. She of course would do almost anything to tease you when the man was around, or would always invite the both of you whenever they had a barbecue going on and would always make sure the only available seats were right next to each other. Shoulder to shoulder.

The first time it happened you sent her a glare, which she only smirks in return, but after the fifth time you had gotten use to her games and would sit down without a fuss. You had gotten accustomed to sitting next to Jensen, why? Well before you would feel nervous and tense being too close to him, however, those feelings soon faded into the wind. Now, it was just a routine for the both of you. If one of you were not sitting next to each other for any event it just didn’t feel right for neither of you, especially during panels. Luckily, the both of you were actors to hide the disappointment in your faces whenever you two had to be sitting apart from each other.

Once off the elevator, both your handlers guided you two towards your next stop. Before walking through the doors, Jensen stops you by your waist and pulls you flushed against him as he bends down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away with a smile, feeling your cheeks grow hot when you hear wolf whistles.

“About Damn time!” Jared calls out as he walks towards you two with Misha right beside him,

Jensen only rolls his eyes with a small grin, pulling you tighter against him when he caught a glimpse of your shyness.

“Yeah I was actually debating whether or not to set up a parent trap in the closet or something,” Misha comments as he stood beside Jensen, slightly patting him on the shoulder,

“Eh technically we did once, but it backed fired immediately,” Jared reminds the other male who only chuckles at the memory,

“That’s right! The fire alarm went off! What a shame,” Jensen rolls his eyes with a shake of his head,

“Will you two clowns just get out there already?” He humorously tells both males,

Jared chuckles as he slaps Misha’s chest, “C’mon Mish, let love birds here get some alone time,”

As soon as Jared walks out the door, the roaring screams are heard, even when it shuts.

Patting Jensens arm with a smile he looks at the both of you, “I’m happy for you two,”

“Thank you Misha,” You smile up at him, snaking an arm around Jensen’s waist,

“Keep it PG-13 though, alright?”

“Fuck off,” Jensen gently shoves the mans shoulder, earning a soft chuckle before he walks out the door,

Once it was just you two behind the closed door, Jensen fully turns you to face him. Glancing into those apple green orbs of his, you let a smile spread on your face as you let a hand settle on his cheek.

“I’ll see you in a few, okay?” He whispers, lightly squeezing your waist,

You nod at him with a smile as you bring him down for a final peck on the lips. Before pulling away he places another quick peck on your head just as you walk out the doors with him following close behind. Glancing behind your shoulder you sent him a wink and watch as he grins at you. A firm hand settles on your lower back as you two continue walking towards the signing booth, not noticing how a few fans with cameras captures the moment when he places yet another peck on the side of your temple. News traveled rather fast, but you could have cared less, you knew it wouldn’t have stayed silent for long, the way you felt toward Jensen was obvious. You were just glad it was out there, you knew you wouldn’t be able to play the hidden game very well and you would lose every time.

But you also knew you would have lost purposely. Being without his touch was nearly impossible for you, so yeah, losing would definitely be on purpose.

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- Hope you enjoyed this!!

- Stay tuned for more!!!

- Make sure your turn on Notifications for more updates!! 🔔🔔

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[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Twenty-One ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4032

Warnings: None

A/n Hello! Sorry I’ve been absent! Life got a little crazy with family visiting and school starting again, but I’m happy to be back! I’ll see you again Wednesday with the regularly-scheduled update :)

I wake with my face buried in the crook of someone’s neck. Pushing against the solid mattress, I raise myself up and try to remember where I am. But the solidness beneath me isn’t the mattress at all. It’s Haldir’s chest. I sit up straighter, realizing that, in the night, I’d pulled myself almost completely on top of him.

He moves as he chuckles, bringing a hand up to tuck my surely wild hair behind my ear. I look down to find him smiling up at me, looking much more awake than I feel. “Good morning.”

I purse my lips, trying not to show how much I enjoy the sight of him in my bed, the feeling of waking up with him. I lower myself back down, settling against his side. His arm wraps around me automatically, securing me in place.

“Good morning,” I reply, tucking my chin against his sternum. “How did you sleep?”

He chuckles, lazily running his fingers up and down my arm. “Better than you can imagine. Though I did have an elbow digging into my stomach, there were, amazingly, no snores. And your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.”

I grin, twisting so I can better see his face. “Well, if you can suffer through being stabbed in the stomach all night, you are welcome to share my comfy bed any time you like.” I furrow my eyebrows, considering. “For the next two nights, I guess. After that, you’re welcome to share the grass beside my bedroll.”

He throws his head back in laughter, the sight so beautiful that my own giggles dies as I take the time to stare at him. How can he be so carefree and joyful when he knows his death is only a few decades ahead of him?

Our conversations last night pretty much disintegrated my resolve to end things with him, not that I had much resolve from the moment we actually allowed ourselves to be together. So weak, I chide myself. But, as Haldir has reminded me time and time again, he is an adult and can make his own choices. I have to respect that, just as he has respected that for me on numerous occasions.

But part of me worries I’m just using that as an excuse to justify my selfishness.

Because no matter how well I love him, how much joy I bring him, how happy I make his life, I will always be the one causing his death. He’s not doing the same for me. I’m the one who will kill him.

Haldir moves his fingers from my arm to my hair, tangling his fingers in the waves. I love it when he does that.

He smiles at me, distracting me from my gloomy thoughts. “I am excited for you to see Lothlórien. What do you have left to do before we leave?”

I sigh, shrugging and leaning against him. “Not much. I’ve got to tell Alex about us, hopefully he’ll take it well, but you know how he can be. I imagine Lavandil already knows, but I would still like to talk with her. After that, just packing, but I can probably put that off until tomorrow night. Packing will be easy — oh, that reminds me — do you have an extra bag I could use? That’s actually what I went up to your room to get the other night, but you confessed your love for me which was really inconvenient, because I never did get that bag.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Please accept my most sincere apologies. Before any future proclamations of love, I shall ask if there is something you need to cross off your to-do list, first.”

“Thank you,” I huff, feigning relief. “That’s all I ask.” Once our laughter dies down, I turn the question back to him. “What about you?”

I feel him shift under me as he stretches to look toward the curtains pulled over the window s, likely trying to gauge the time by the rays of sun peeking through. “I have a few meetings lined up, as well as continued training with the guard. They’re in quite good shape, but you can never be too prepared. And, as much as I hate to say it, I must get up.” He rolls so I am under him and places a sweet kiss to my forehead. “I have stayed in bed far too long.”

I grin up at him, catching his lips in a proper kiss before following him from the warmth of the blankets. “If you must.” I eye my closed door, now fully aware that we are well into the morning hours. I cross my arms, shifting my weight between my feet. “People will see you leaving my room.”

He looks up at me, back leaned against the wall as he pulls on his boots and laces them up. “Yes?”

I shrug, taking a few steps closer to him. “Well, they’ll talk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the beginnings of a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. “Would you like me to exit via window?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No.”

“Then let them talk.” He places his foot on the ground and meets me in the center of the room. “I’ve no intention of hiding you.”

I grin broadly, surprised by how much that sentence pleases me, and pull him down for a final kiss. “See you after dinner for training?”

“Yes,” he nods, letting his hand trail over my waves as he backs towards the door. “Your armor should be done by then. I’ll bring it with me.”

“I’m not wearing it,” I shout through the open door as he passes through.

“Yes, you are,” he calls back in a confident, almost lilting voice.

I grumble.

“Ah, good morning Ríneth.”

I freeze. Guess the cat’s out of the bag.

“G-good morning, Marchwarden,” comes the stunned response. As the attendant passes my open door, she sneaks a look, her eyes widening when she sees me standing in the center of the room. I raise a hand and wave.

She scurries off.

Stifling a chuckle, I close the door and head to the bathroom to get ready for one of my last days in Imladris.

{***}

I decide to tell Alex first. Between him, Lavandil, and Baranor, Alex is the most likely to have a sour reaction, so I’d prefer to just get that over with.

He welcomes me in after one knock and I try to contain my surprise, immediately noticing the explosion of books, scrolls, and papers scattered across his room.

I step over a large pile of volumes to make it through the entryway. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” He grins sheepishly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Elrond said I could take some books with me, but they’re too bulky to travel with, so I’m trying to copy down as much as I can before we go.”

I nod, trying to find an area clear of stuff large enough for me to place my feet. “I bet Lothlórien has a good library.”

“I hope,” he agrees, bending to move some books so I have space. “But what’s up?”

“Um,” I press my lips together, suddenly feeling very, very nervous. My hands twist themselves in and out of each other as I look for anything to distract myself from the way my heart races. “I wanted to tell you…” Just get it over with. “Haldir and I are — together.” I wince. That doesn’t even begin to encompass how I feel about him, but how the heck do I describe our relationship?

Alex raises an eyebrow, setting the books in his hands down on the chest of drawers. “Yeah, for a while, right?”

I blink. Of all the reactions, I hadn’t expected that. “What?”

He tilts his head. “Wait, this happened recently?”

“Uh, yeah,” I huff, a little put out that he’s been thinking I’ve been secretly with Haldir and just hadn’t said anything about it. “What made you think it happened earlier?”

Alex shrugs, throwing his hands in his pockets. “Well, I don’t know, it was just kinda obvious something was there. I assumed the two of you acted on it around the time we got to Imladris and have just been trying to keep it a secret or something.”

“Wha—um,” I sputter, completely floored. “We’ve been avoiding each other for three months,” I defend, suddenly self-conscious of my apparently obvious feelings.

“Yeah,” Alex shrugs again, hauling a bag filled with books onto his bed. “I thought that was part of it — pretend to avoid each other to quiet the rumors, but then meet up when no one was paying attention.”

“Rumors,” I squeak, not liking the sound of that.

“Well, I didn’t hear any,” he corrects, noticing my panic. “I just, you know — the two of you seemed to click. I figured other people noticed it, too.”

He’s not wrong about that, I think, remembering Lavandil’s excitement and, before he changed his mind due to my mortality, Rumil’s.

Alex speaks again, the slightest shift in his tone. “I also figured that, well, your attachment to him is what was making you want to stay here and not work so hard to get home. Because, honestly Cosima, I can’t wrap my head around any other reason that would be strong enough to keep you away from your own world.”

“Oh. Right.” I look down at my hands, guilt buzzing in my stomach.

“But now that it’s official, I’m guessing you’ve decided?” Alex comes to stand in front of me, arms crossed in front of his chest. He doesn’t look angry, like I thought he would, just resigned.

I sigh, hating the disappointment I know I’m causing him. “Yes. I will help you figure out how to get home if you still want that, but I—I’m staying here.”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “And when I get home, what should I tell your family?”

I suck in a sharp breath. Ouch. I drop my hands to my sides, pleading with him. “Can we just—not? Please? I don’t remember them, Alex, I don’t even know if they exist, aside from nonna, who passed away five years ago. And here…well…” I sigh, mind drifting to Haldir and Lavandil and Rumil and Orophin and Baranor, and even Glorfindel. “My family—the family I chose—they’re all in Arda.”

Alex nods slowly, regarding me thoughtfully. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

I try to ease the hurt. I don’t want him to be sad. “But I’ll keep helping you, I promise. If there’s a way home, we’ll find it.”

He sighs and then smiles, though it looks tired. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right. Thanks, Cosi.” He steps forward and pulls me into a hug, the action surprising me. Blinking against the shock, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him tight. “I suck at showing it, but I am happy for you, you know,” he whispers, squeezing my shoulders.

He releases me then, and I smile up at him. “Thank you.”

{***}

After my unexpected conversation with Alex, it’s time to find Lavandil.

It’s not difficult.

Her high-pitched giggle catches me on the way to lunch, her hands whirling me around into a wall of curls. She surprises me by grabbing me in the briefest of hugs, then pulls away, gripping me tightly by the shoulders.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Orophin told me last night — he’s upset of course, but he does acknowledge that he’s never seen Haldir as happy as he is when he’s with you! And I honestly think Orophin just needs time. Bottom line, he wants Haldir to be happy and loved, and you’re doing just that. But okay, now that that’s out of the way, you must tell me everything.”

I laugh, trying to catch up with her enthusiasm and rapid-fire words. I pull her to the side of the hallway, closer to the stone wall. People are, of course, bound to find out as the week goes on, but I’d rather not shout the details of what I consider to be my most cherished moment. In a hushed voice, I recount the night Haldir and I decided to go for it, Lavandil squealing and grinning through the whole thing.

“That is so sweet,” she gushes, eyes bright. “Who knew Haldir had such a way with words!”

“I know, right,” I agree, pleased to finally be able to talk about this with one of my best friends. “And kissing him?” I place a hand over my heart in a mock swoon, earning me a delighted laugh. “I could do that forever.” But then I bite my lip, not sure how she’ll react to what I’m going to tell her next. “He uh—spent the night last night.”

Lavandil’s eyes blow wide. “Did you—”

“No.” I hurry to clear that up. “But, I mean…it’s difficult not to want to…” I sigh, feeling much better upon seeing her understanding nod. She gets it. “How do you and Orophin manage? For eight years?”

She grins somewhat bashfully. “Well, it does help that we don’t see each other very often. And a lot of times, we have to stop ourself before we end up getting married without a second thought. But it all just comes down to us acknowledging the reality of our situation — we don’t want to get married and live apart, but neither of us was ready to give up our homes, families, or careers, not until recently, so we had to wait to take that step. It was a decision we were both okay with for a while. But now…” She shrugs, her smile softens and a faraway look enters her eye. “That time is over. He’s staying here with me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.”

I smile at her, happy for my friend. “Do you…” I tread carefully, not sure how much more I can ask without intruding, “think you’ll get married then?”

“Oh, for sure,” she grins, crossing her arms over her chest. “And soon. All our reasons not to have conveniently been taken care of.”

I take her hand in mine and give it a quick squeeze. “I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me, too, she jokes, winking cheekily. We laugh, and then she dissolves back into her interrogation of me. Dutifully, I answer each and every one.

{***}

When it’s dark outside, Haldir knocks on my door. In his hand, he carries a dark brown bag that makes a suspicious clanging sound with every step he takes. I eye it warily. He smiles, bringing the palm of my hand to his mouth for a kiss. “I’m sorry it’s so late. The drills ran long.”

I shrug, pulling him farther into my room and shutting the door behind him. “Don’t worry about it. I was with Lavandil until about an hour ago, anyway.”

He looks at me, a note of hesitation in his eyes. “And how did that go?”

“Better than expected,” I laugh in relief. “She’s very happy for us and says Orophin shows signs of feeling better. I talked to Alex too — can you believe it, he thought we’ve been together for months!”

At this, Haldir raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. “What would give him that impression? We avoided each other for almost the entire time we’ve been in Imladris.”

“That’s what I said!” I hold up a hand to stop him. “But I’m actually not going to talk to you any more until you open that bag. I need to decide if I’m going to be mad at you or not.”

He grins broadly, setting the bag gently on the ground. “I don’t know why you would be mad when all I’ve done is bring you a present.” Haldir reaches inside and draws out silver chainmail.

“Well, take it back,” I grumble, having correctly guessed the contents of the bag. I cross my arms over my chest.

“See?” Haldir smiles, straightening with the chainmail in hand. “It’s not as bad as you thought. It can even be worn under your clothes if you like.”

I grimace, taking a step forward and running a hand over the cool metal. Experimentally, I gather the bottom of the piece and hold it in both of my hands. It’s heavy. I look up at Haldir, unimpressed. “There’s no way this is comfortable.”

He shrugs. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, I’d rather have you uncomfortable and alive than comfortable and dead.” He steps forward, presses a kiss to my temple, then walks past me to lay the chainmail over my table.

I sigh. He’s just trying to keep me safe. “Alright, fine,” I acquiesce, following him further into my room. I step in front of him, trying to will my annoyance away. “Thank you for doing that.”

He smiles softly, though there’s a hint of humor in his eyes as he knows the effort I’m putting into making my tone polite. “You are very welcome. Now — go stand in the center of the room. I want to go over a few more techniques before we pause training to travel. And tomorrow, we’ll practice with the chainmail.”

I groan.

{***}

Haldir stays with me for the remaining two nights in Imladris. It’s very convenient — not only do I love having him with me, but it gives him and Rumil some much-needed space.

Over the course of our remaining days, we only had a few things on our to-do list: Inform Baranor of the development in our relationship — he didn’t seem surprised, just like he was making a very conscious effort to appear happy for us—prepare the horses, and pack our belongings and adequate provisions for the journey. On the morning of our departure, we’re set to meet at the bridge that marks the entrance to the city. Haldir leaves me while it’s still dark, kissing me while I’m half asleep and telling me goodbye. He went to ensure the horses were ready and ‘tie up a couple of loose ends,’ as he put it.

Despite the desire to sleep in, I rise with the sun, knowing we don’t have long before we leave. When I spot the chainmail laid over my table, I begrudgingly pull it on under my clothes, knowing Haldir will just send me back to get it if I don’t. It’s heavier than I want it to be, but he’s right — if we were attacked, it would provide an additional measure of protection. I don’t have to tell him that, though. Once I’m dressed, all that’s left to do is say my goodbyes and get on the horse.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

Lavandil meets me at my door. Wordlessly, she shoulders one of my bags and walks with me to the front of the estate. We step onto the lush grass, which still glints with the morning dew. Soon, autumn will creep in and the green of Imladris will turn into brilliant reds, golds, and oranges—or so my friends tell me. I hope that I will get to see it one day.

At the start of the bridge waits the rest of my company. I notice Haldir off to the side with both Orophin and Rumil. Unlike his brothers, Rumil doesn’t look up or wish us good morning. That stings—bad—but at least he’s talking to his brothers.

I search for Alex and, with a note of surprise, find him behind the horses, speaking with Elrond. I raise an eyebrow, but don’t investigate. If Alex wants to tell me about their conversation, he can.

Lavandil and I approach Faervel, who whinnies in recognition. Since Orophin is staying in Imladris, his horse is as well. Horses are apparently quite fond of their owners, so we agreed not to hurt any of them by pulling them away from their home and taking them back to Lothlórien. That means Alex still rides with Baranor and I will ride with Haldir — for now. Maybe if Rumil ends up forgiving me, I can ride Roch at some point.

I loop my bag into the straps on the edge of the saddle, securing it in place. Lavandil does the same with my other bag, tying it on Faervel’s back.

Someone behind me clears their throat, and both Lavandil and I turn around.

Elrond smiles in greeting, inclining his head. “Lavandil, would you mind if I had a moment alone with Cosima?”

“Of course,” she smiles, waving at me as she hurries off to join Orophin. This isn’t goodbye, I remind myself. I’ll catch her again before I leave.

Elrond pats Faervel on the head. “Cosima, I wish you safe travels.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Promise me,” he continues, voice turning serious, “that when you arrive in Lothlórien, you will speak to Lady Galadriel without delay. I believe she can help you and Alexander.”

I agree readily. Elrond has been so kind and helpful, of course I’ll do as he asks.

“Good.” He nods. “And, well…” he sighs, sadness entering his ageless eyes. “I pray to the Valar that you will have a happy, fulfilling life.”

Despite the well-wish, grief collects in his features and I suck in a breath, remembering exactly who his daughter is and who she loves.

I open my mouth to say — what? That I’m sorry? That I wish it were someone else? What can I say to an ellon whose daughter will die for the same reason Haldir will?  

I close my mouth.

Because no, there is nothing to say.

Elrond inclines his head in understanding and steps back, bidding a final farewell to us all before returning to his estate.

Rumil, Baranor, and Alex mount their horses.

It seems there is no more time to waste. Lavandil comes to stand in front of me, sniffling. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Tears enter my own eyes and I bite my lip, desperately not wanting them to escape and betray how sad I feel.

“The shop won’t be the same without you,” she whispers. Then, in a movement so fast I barely register the change, she flings her arms around my shoulders, drawing me in for a brief, tight hug. “Be happy.”

I pull back, smiling despite my sadness. “You too. Write to me?”

“Of course.” She gives me a watery laugh and tosses her curls over her shoulder. “Who else can we complain about them to?” She jerks a thumb in the direction of Haldir and Orophin, who put on identical expressions of affronted disbelief, and I break into actual laughter.

But when our laughter fades, Lavandil falls back, stepping out of the way of the horses and into Orophin’s outstretched arms.

Haldir walks up next to me. He crouches, ready to help me on the horse and, before I can look at the sadness on Lavandil’s face and burst into tears of my own, I put my boot in his hand, allowing myself to swing onto Faervel’s back. In the next moment, Haldir lands in front of me, taking the reins in his hands.

“Now what are all these tears about?”

I jump, startled by the loud, unexpected voice.

None other than Glorfindel, followed by four armored members of Imaldris’s guard, gallop down the path.

My golden friend sidles his horse next to Faervel, winking at me. “Good news, my dear lady, we shall not be parted so soon! Your commander—or should I say lover, now—” both Haldir and I make a face at the term, “asked for an escort through the mountain pass. My troops and I are happy to oblige.”

Haldir nods to him, serious despite Glorfindel’s exuberance. “Thank you for coming.”

Glorfindel smiles, returning Haldir’s nod. “Of course, mellon nîn.” He calls out a command and our company, much larger now, moves forward. I allow myself one final wave to Orophin and Lavandil, as well as a last glance at this shining city that had just begun to feel like home.

Before I know it, we have crossed the terrifying bridge and left the safety of Imladris behind.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day <3 And to everyone who responded to the last chapter: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, THANK YOU!!!!!

|next chapter - to be posted|

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Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows 

[caranfindel]

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: The Clause in the Will

I never planned to write a Ransom story. And then @eurynome827 posted her 2K Celebration and the opening to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was one of the prompts. I’m a whore for anything Pride and Prejudice... and my brain automatically connected the quote with Ransom. And would not let go.

To make an already complicated drabble even harder... I decided to write it with each section being exactly 100 words. It was both a blessing (this story could have SNOWBALLED quickly) and a curse (if you’ve written a 100 word drabble, you get it).

But it’s finished and I love how it turned out! And I was quite proud of myself for the very-Eury way I ended it.

So to @eurynome827​ congrats again on 2,000 followers!

Title: The Clause in the Will

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some language, some minor violence/threats, suggestive

Note: This is AU and it uses the characters from Knives Out but doesn’t follow the story.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.” Ransom Drysdale muttered as he wadded up another of his late grandfather's marriage-related quote notecards. They were hidden everywhere.

It had been nearly a year since his grandfather, the famed author Harlan Thrombey, had passed away, leaving Ransom as the head of Blood Like Wine Publishing. A role that he had spent the last twenty years being groomed for.

Ransom had worked his way through the ranks of the company following college and had been prepared when the time had come.

Well, prepared for everything except his grandfather's cluttered office.

At least the houses weren't his problem.

-- -- -- --

You’d started at BLW Publishing as an marketing intern after college and you’d climbed your way to the vice president of that department in the twelve years that had followed.

You loved every single part of your job.

Or at least you had until Mr. “Call Me Ransom” Drysdale had taken over the running of the company.

He had spent his years at the company floating between departments, to learn everything he could. Which meant the two of you had worked together multiple times.

But he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons. And knew exactly what buttons to push when.

-- -- -- --

"You told me months ago that the marriage clause wasn't legally binding," Ransom fumed. "And now you're telling me it is?!"

His lawyers avoided his gaze.

"Get out!" Ransom shouted and they scurried out.

He had seven days to find a wife and marry her.

If he didn't, he lost the company.

It was just like his grandfather to pull a stunt like this. Even from the grave.

He should just let his prick of an uncle have the company. Just to prove a point.

But he knew he couldn't.

His uncle would ruin everything.

Ransom wouldn't let that happen.

-- -- -- --

"You're not the pizza guy," you said, opening your front door to find Ransom standing on the other side with a bouquet of roses and your pizza.

"Met him in the elevator. Can I come in?"

Stepping aside, you let him in. Only noticing as he passed that his normal confident aura was missing.

"What's wrong?"

He explained everything while the two of you ate pizza.

"Walt would destroy everything," you commiserated.

"Exactly."

Then he pulled out a ring box.

"Will you marry me and help me save the company we both love from ruin?"

How could you say no?

-- -- -- --

"I got married."

Ransom had chosen a public setting to share his news in hopes that his uncle wouldn't make a scene.

The fact that it was day six of his seven day window was pure coincidence.

Glancing at his wife, he found her staring across the table at his uncle, who, Ransom soon saw, was nearly purple with rage.

"This can't be legal!" his uncle shouted over the congratulations from the others. "It should have been mine! All of it!"

Then Walt pushed his chair back and stormed out of the private dining room, his wife and son following.

-- -- -- --

Logically, you knew marrying Ransom would mean moving into his house, but you'd thought you'd have more time.

But with his uncle looking for any reason to question the legitimacy of the marriage, you and Ransom agreed it had to happen now.

The two of you packed up your apartment and then had everything you were keeping moved to his house.

To his credit, Ransom made as much room for your stuff in the common areas of the house as possible, wanting you to feel at home.

But the only place that truly felt that way was your private bedroom.

-- -- -- --

Ransom sat in the hall with Walt as their lawyers met with a judge behind closed doors following another of Walter's attempts to fight the will.

"I’ve heard rumors," Walt said, his tone was nonchalant, but it was laced with venom. "About how your wife became v-"

Ransom had his hand around his uncle's throat before Walt could make another sound.

"That is my wife," he growled. "You will not say one more fucking thing about her or I will sue you for libel. Do you understand me?"

Walt let out a squeak of acknowledgement and Ransom let him go.

-- -- -- --

You'd known Ransom for years.

But after living with him for a few weeks, you realized you hadn't really known him at all.

Work Ransom demanded the respect and attention owed to the boss.

Home Ransom was softer and wore faded blue jeans instead of three piece suits.

He liked spending Saturday mornings at the market and he loved to cook.

And boy could he cook!

The one on one time with him at home had given you a whole new appreciation for your husband.

He opened up to you about things you were sure he'd never told anyone else.

-- -- -- --

Ball buster.

That's how he'd described her the first time he had worked with her on a project.

It was the reason he had recommended her for the vice president role when it had opened up.

Kind. Funny. Caring. Passionate. 

Those were the words that came to mind now when he thought of her.

She was the type of woman who could tell a dirty joke one minute and then have a serious conversation about his upbringing.

He'd been hesitant to include her at first, but their Saturday morning shopping trips were quickly becoming his favorite activity of the week.

-- -- -- --

You loved Ransom.

It hit you like a ton of bricks as you sat in the middle of a meeting at work, a month later.

You were supposed to be paying attention, but your eyes kept going across the table to where Ransom sat.

You couldn't explain how you knew, you just did.

When had it happened? You didn't know that either.

All you knew was that he was handsome and he was all yours.

At least on paper.

The joy faded from you as you remembered the two of you were roommates. Nothing more.

You wished that could change.

-- -- -- --

Ransom didn't know when it happened, but he realized one Saturday morning, a few months in, that he was in love with his wife.

He hadn't planned to fall in love with her. He'd envisioned them being married for a few years, to solidify his role at the publishing company, and then divorcing as quietly as they had married.

Being in love complicated things.

It made him think about her happiness above his own.

Was she happy with him?

If she wasn't, was he prepared to walk away from her and the company to ensure her happiness?

Yes, he decided.

-- -- -- --

"We need to talk," he said, setting a manilla envelope on the kitchen counter.

"What's that?"

"Annulment papers."

"What?!" you asked in complete disbelief.

"I love you," he confessed. "If you're not happy, I'm -"

"I love you, too," you cut him off, joy filling your heart.

Moving around the island, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss.

"An annulment would have cost you everything," you said.

"Your happiness means more to me," he said. "Even if it meant giving everything to Walt."

"The company is yours," you told him. "Forever."

"Ours."

-- -- -- --

"Are you coming in?"

She stood in the doorway to what had been his bedroom.

After their declaration of love, he'd properly courted her.

Taking her out on dates. Sending her flowers just because.

They'd kissed a lot and had made it to all the bases, as they say, except home.

That was the plan tonight, she'd told him.

They'd gone out for dinner and then she'd asked him to take her home.

Home to their home.

To their bedroom.

Her eyes met his as she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Letting it fall to the floor.

[blackbat05]

Hope

Jimmy Woo x Reader 

A/N: I think if I’m stressed I just end up writing more as a source of comfort. Anyways, I have finally achieved my promise of writing a new character! I really love Jimmy Woo especially after his appearance in WandaVision y’all (please, he deserves more love). Again, I had an idea in my head and I just went along with it - the reader is basically living alone and with the blip, her mental health just takes another hit. Jimmy is there to support her and to also give her news that brings a little bit of hope to the reader. Not sure how it turned out but would appreciate if you gave a like or comment if you wish! Enjoy! 

Genre: PG 13 

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, struggling with mental health after the blip (this is pretty interesting and I would like to explore more if possible), two idiots having a crush on each other? 

‘Another late night?’ A cup of coffee is placed on your table. You look up to see that it belongs to your long-time friend and colleague from the FBI, Jimmy Woo.

‘Yeah,’ you groaned as you tried stretching your back against the chair. ‘Helped Agent Cortez from the DEA to chase down a few leads back in Detroit. I just got back at two in the morning,’ stifling a yawn. ‘What about you?’ You attempt to prolong the conversation. It was always nice seeing Jimmy to start the day right. Let’s just say that over the years, you developed feelings for this charming man.

‘Been the same old thing, board wants us to keep tabs on Maximoff,’ referring to the Scarlet Witch. You couldn’t help but to feel sorry for the former Avenger who was probably on the run now after causing the Westview anomaly. Glancing around the office, you realized there were more people starting to stream in. Not the best place for a private conversation. Standing up, you pointed upwards, asking him silently if he wanted to talk on the rooftop instead.

Your insides couldn’t have been more thankful for the warm brown liquid that trickled down your esophagus. Feeling a bit more awake, you decided to be more active. ‘Do they know that Captain Rambeau let Wanda go?’

He shakes his head, ‘Monica told the board by the time she got to where Wanda was supposed to be, she was gone,’ he looks at you, waiting for your reaction. ‘I know what you’re thinking but-’

‘Hey, I’m not Hayward. Anyone with two pairs of eyes and functioning brain would know that Wanda is not the villain that SWORD made her to be. I don’t know her but somehow I feel…’ You trailed off, not being able to find the right words.

You heard a lot about the sorceress through Jimmy’s nightly calls with you when he was in Westview. Just how could someone go for so long being so alone? His last call before storming into Westview was… impactful.

‘So you going to arrest her?’

There was a bout of silence before Jimmy gave a sigh, ‘To be honest, I don’t know. Monica’s in there right now so I trust her. But Wanda’s probably not going to stay in the States if she walks free. He tells you to give him a moment as he shouts in the distance to someone - a fellow FBI agent. ‘Hey, I got to go.’

‘Be careful.’

You cup your hands around the coffee, gazing into the distance. Like the FBI office, people were starting their day too. The day started to become brighter as the skies were tinted with navy blue specks. How long has it been since you were living here alone in Washington?

Jimmy tries not to intrude into your thoughts but as a friend who had knew you for over a decade, he wasn’t dumb. You were probably thinking about your family, a thousand of miles away from America. He remembers you bursting into his house after graduation, not caring about your tear-stricken face. Apparently your family wanted to move back to your homeland back in Madripoor.

But you were just starting out your career here, preparing to go to the police academy and all. It was your dream - hell, it was what you wanted. You felt pride serving people and helping others. People called you basic and naïve for having those thoughts, but it was that desire that kept you going till now.

Then the blip happened. As Jimmy sees the people below his apartment block vanishing into dust, the first person he thinks is to call you. It just kept going back to voicemail.

You’re in your new apartment that the Global Repatriation Council managed to arrange for you. It was a cozy two room apartment located on the fifth floor. You should have been thankful and you were, but just like how the lights were all switched off, you were spiraling into a vast land of meaningless thoughts.

Everyone had moved on without you. The moment you were dusted back into your old apartment back in Jersey, you immediately called your family to receive the biggest shock of your life. Your younger brother was caught in a shootout between the Vladivostok mafia and the local gangs at Club Azimut. What in the name of gods was he even doing there anyway?

‘I think it’s best not to come home for a while Y/N, your father-’

‘Thinks that it’s my fault,’ you finished the sentence for your mother. I couldn’t blame them. You were essentially a cop. Which made your brother a target especially in shit holes like Madripoor. Of course, your father was pissed beyond repair - B/N died and you caused it.

‘It’s ok mom, I get it. Take care of yourself ok?’ Before she could say another word, you hung up. The room was overwhelming the lone figure with its silence. Maybe that’s why you found yourself bursting into tears.

Jimmy walks to your apartment door, two bags of Chinese takeout in one hand. He slows down when he hears the muffled sobs. The door to your place was ajar. Pushing it carefully, he walks past the entrance to see your dazed figure leaning against the wall, unpacked boxes surrounding you. You don’t even notice that someone had entered your house.

‘What am I supposed to do Jimmy?’ It felt like your heart was stretched into every single direction every time you spoke a word. You couldn’t stop yourself from trembling. 

Jimmy puts the bags aside on the dining table, taking a seat beside you. He doesn’t say a word and the only sound that could be heard within your apartment was the honking of cars eagerly awaiting to get back home to their families. Reaching for the television control, he switches it on to a documentary channel, letting you lean on him. 

You realized that you had floated into a world of your own thoughts, leaving Jimmy standing beside you on the rooftop. ‘I’m sorry Jimmy, got carried away.’ 

He shakes his head as he continues to sip his coffee. That was what made Jimmy so comfortable to be around with. But you knew that as your best friend, you weren’t going to short change him - he had given you the time and space that you needed. 

‘Talking about Wanda just makes me think about Madripoor,’ you started, unsure of how to continue. ‘It’ll be eleven, twelve years of me living alone.’ You didn’t even bother to count anymore, what good would it do? ‘I dedicate nearly half my life to the force, believing that it was the right choice,’ you said, ‘but I lost the people around me instead. I just don’t know how long I can continue with all this,’ you waved around, referring to the late nights, the long stake outs and the dangerous situations that you were constantly tossed in. Sure, you were lucky to have good colleagues who made sure you didn’t get a bullet in the back but none of them were remotely close enough to share your emotional struggles that only increased since you were snapped back. 

Maybe except for Jimmy. 

He waits for you to go on but you seem to have finished. This was a good time to bring up what he had in mind that would probably kill two birds with one stone. 

‘The FBI does have ways of traumatizing their own in the most unexpected ways, but we can never really escape from it can we? Every time we put one demon down, more takes its place. I’ve been there,’ he pause, recollecting his own thoughts. ‘Facing these monsters can be scary but - I guess what I’m really trying to say is that you don’t have to do this alone Y/N.’ His heart skips a beat. He has to continue, there was no turning back. 

‘Monica’s going to be away for a while,’ he adds on, ‘Avenger stuff. Probably off-world. And Darcy, well... who knows where she’ll be?’ 

You waited patiently for him to get his point across. 

‘Director Fury knows about this but he wants an extra pair of eyes on the ground to watch Wanda’s movements. I can’t do it alone so I recommended you.’ 

Your brain cell freezes, trying to process the past few minutes. So you were potentially going from investigating drug cartels to assessing an Avenger level threat? And with Jimmy who knows you at the back of his head as your partner? The top of your mouth twitched upwards. 

‘I’m sorry if it was so unexpected. But seeing you like this, I thought you could use an energy booster.’ Jimmy had no idea where was this surging amount of confidence coming from. He imagines Darcy’s voice ringing in his head. Go get her tiger! 

‘Energy booster?’ You played along, teasing him at his choice of words. ‘I’m not sure if potentially being mind controlled by the Scarlet Witch would bring energy to me but I’m grateful.’ 

‘I’m hurt Y/N,’ he places his free hand over his chest in mock horror. ‘Here I was thinking that working with me everyday would bring some light into your life.’ Jimmy abruptly halts his sentence. What the hell were you thinking? 

Suddenly your coffee cup was very interesting to look at. You always had a crush on Jimmy but let’s face it - work romances never end up good. You didn’t want to jeopardize the friendship you had slowly build up with him for what - fifteen years?

A voice inside your head knocks some senses into you. Come on Y/N, he’s been with you through thick and thin! He knows everything about you, hell he even knows how you eat! Life’s not going to wait for anyone. So just take the leap of faith. It’s Jimmy here we’re talking about.

Just as Jimmy was dead sure that you were about to reject his offer, he meets your eyes that is now full of confidence. ‘Well if Director Fury thinks highly of me, I can’t say no right?’

Who cared about controlling one’s facial expressions, Jimmy was the happiest man in the FBI building. Phone beeping in his pocket, he checks the message. ‘Ah shoot, I got to go. SWORD’s demanding another meeting again. But I’ll catch up with you later? Maybe for dinner at the ramen place two blocks down?’ 

You tried not to get ahead of yourself but it was hard not to. ‘Sure, sounds like a plan.’ 

As you see his retreating figure, you couldn’t help but to think that maybe, just maybe, hope was not too far away. 

Finishing the last of your coffee, you threw your cup into the bin. Agent Cortez had just sent you a text as well - it was time to finish your last bit of the job before a whole new beginning. 

Crazy, but at least you had Jimmy. 

A/N: Still trying to work on my endings! HAHAHA~ but I really hope that somehow it brings a little comfort? I think I’m just writing (or trying to at least) comfort stuff to just have an outlet. If you have read up till here, thank you! Wherever you are, stay safe and healthy! If you need to talk, I think my inbox is open? I did set it to receive stuff so feel free! I’ll get back to you as soon as I can if you do! Lots of love~ 

P.S. IS FINALLY FRIDAY AND OCTOBER! Omg I want to join in the fun on Kinktober but 2 problems: 

1. I can’t do the obvious without being cringey (smut writers y’all the MVP) 

2. I only end my placement on the 2nd last week of October so I can’t do it like everyday TT or at least like frequently 

[littledrummeraussie]

It’s still the 20th in my timezone so I wanted to give my request a try: 😍 - it’s so cliche but I’d like to read smth. With being roommates with Ashton (maybe the reader also works in the music industry like his real roommate) and the reader slowly realises that they are in love with him.

1. Ashton overstimulating youu🤤🍭 but like not as a punishment more as a “exploring” and like al the praise he would give uuuu🤤🔥 

2. Ash using a shower head on you?🔥🔥🔥 or maybe he holds ur legs open with his own legs and uses a vibrator to overstimulate you🤤🤤🤤🔥 

3. @ashtondaddy90  Congratulations! You deserve all the followers you got. Your fanfic are all amazing 🍭 with dom! Ashton

When I asked where should we go next with the 1K Celebration prompts Blanca @notinthesameguey simply said that we should combine them. So this is entierly her fault. Thank you Blanca.

I didn’t exactly follow the prompts, but I hope you will still enjoy Ashton and his roommate having feelings for each other, resolving the tension with some naughty sex in the end.

1K celebration masterlist

- - - - -

“Rise and shine!”

“Fuck off,” you laughed into your pillow, burrowing under the blankets as Ashton opened the curtains in your bedroom. “It’s too early for your bullshit.”

“It’s 9 AM and you’ve already missed breakfast,” he climbed over your bed, tugging the sheets down before taking the pillow out of your hands. “No pillow fights, you know I’m right.”

“Didn’t plan on it,” you chuckled and Ashton lovingly rolled his eyes, already knowing that you definitely thought about hitting him with your pillow.

“Coffee’s waiting for you downstairs,” he leaned over and combed the hair back from your face before kissing your cheek. “I need to run some errands, do you need anything?”

“5 more minutes of sleep,” you closed your eyes, giving a light push to his shoulder to give you more space.

“You’re unbelievable,” he huffed with a laugh before scooting off the bed. “Why do I even let you live here?”

“Because I pay rent, not like Calum,” you gave him a sleepy wink, and Ashton laughed again, clicking his tongue.

“True. Alright, call me if you need anything.”

“A new roommate!”

*

It all happened after your previous roommate got a boyfriend for herself and you quickly needed to find a place when they’ve decided to move out and into their new shared home. Ashton’s offer came in the form of a surprise call while you were packing up your stuff. The two of you previously worked on a few small projects and he told you that he had a spare room you could use as long as you needed it. He even helped you transport all your things across town and made you feel right at home in his own house.

You’ve spent the evening catching up on the last few months as you ate takeout and drank cool ciders, setting some ground rules for your new living conditions. Ashton pressed a kiss on the top of your head before he went to bed, making your face heat up. You’ve told yourself that the feeling will pass; after all it was just a friendly gesture from him – he was your new roommate, nothing more.

The first few weeks were spent working out how the two of you could actually live together without being in each other’s space all the time, but you both found that you didn’t mind the other’s presence while you were working. It was way much simpler than you’ve thought it would be, and by the next month you were already working on another project together in your spare time. You’ve felt a strange domestic bliss settle over the two of you as you’ve cooked dinner and washed the dishes, talking about ideas while you ran errands or when you’ve watched TV before bedtime. Ashton seemed like the perfect boyfriend material and you needed to tell yourself to keep your thoughts PG when it came to him. You didn’t want to wake up one morning to awkward conversations about your night activities.

This thought lasted until you started to realize how comfortable the two of you became with each other. Ashton didn’t mind taking off his shirt during the day if it got too hot for him, and most mornings you’ve found him in the kitchen only in his boxers, tan skin and muscles all on display as he made coffee. His smile was always bright and flirty, and on many occasions you felt your panties slightly sticking to your skin by the time you’ve finished your breakfast. He let you borrow his hoodies, still warm from his body with his scent lingering on the fabric, and you felt dizzy whenever you’ve thought about burying your nose in his neck just to really feel him. You slowly started to realize that you had it bad for Ashton – and that you couldn’t help yourself, even if you’ve tried your hardest.

*

It happened during one of those nights when Ash was out with the guys and you spent the majority of your time alone, sipping on a glass of wine and enjoying a hot bath. You were a bit tipsy as you found your way back to your room, ready to turn in for the night and have a long sleep before he woke you up again at the crack of dawn. As you passed Ashton’s bedroom you stopped – the door was left ajar and you peeked inside with a giggle. You’ve been in there plenty of times before, but there was something exciting about looking inside while he wasn’t there. You caught sight of a discarded black shirt on the floor and you had a feeling Ashton kicked it under the bed in a hurry as he was getting ready.

A blush crawled up your neck at the thought of stealing it, and before you knew it you slipped inside, reaching down and bringing the shirt up to your nose, inhaling his citrusy scent that mixed with the smell of sweat and the fabric softener he used. You hugged it to your chest as you made your way back to your room, locking the door before letting the towel fall on the floor, and in seconds you pulled the shirt over your head, pretending it was an actual hug from Ashton. You lay back against the pillows as you buried your nose in the collar of the shirt, a small moan leaving your lips as you clenched your thighs together, a familiar throbbing taking over you. God, you wanted him so bad.

Your nipples hardened under the fabric as you thought about all those times he ran around the house only in his sweatpants, shirt forgotten next to his drum kit after practice, water drops clinging to his skin before running down on his back, soaking the towel riding low on his hips. A hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips teasing your slit as you thought about Ashton’s fingers drumming on the counter or brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, his touch always soft and careful, and more than anything you wished you could feel that touch on your skin right now. You imagined what those long fingers could do to you, all the places they could reach to make you see stars, and you threw your head back as you slowly eased a finger inside.

In your fantasy hazel eyes stared up at you as Ashton slowly moved his finger in and out, a grin pulling at his full lips as he told you how beautiful you looked. Before you knew it a second finger joined the first to stretch you, and you whined as you thought about Ashton doing the same to you, preparing you for his cock. Your other hand slipped down to rub your clit, pretending it was his lips and tongue chasing you towards your pleasure. You let your sounds spill out of you, moans and whines mixed with words begging for something more as you let your fingers bring you to your next orgasm, already working towards the third, not caring about how sensitive you were.

*

What you didn’t know was how the door opened downstairs, Ashton quietly locking it, not wanting to wake you as he figured you’ve already gone to bed. He toed off his shoes and made his way up the stairs, but stopped when he heard moans from behind your door. Ashton held his breath as he listened to the sounds, face hot and cock stirring in his pants as he realized what you were doing. He wished your door was open just a crack.

Maybe he should have been ashamed as he let his fingers curl around the hard-on straining against his jeans but he couldn’t help himself. He’s been doing his best to keep you out of those kinds of thoughts, even though the final image crossing his mind before coming was always one of you. Ashton didn’t want to ruin your friendship and your current living arrangements, but he felt like you’ve put a spell on him all those years ago when you two started working together. He wished that he could figure you out, to find out if the thoughts and feelings he had towards you would be reciprocated if he ever had the courage to just come clean about them.

And God knows he tried to gauge your reaction after the first few weeks you’ve spent together as roommates. There was a reason he forgot to put on clothes in the morning, pattering around the kitchen only in his boxers as you came down for coffee. He was always careful with your conversations, using certain words and themes that would tell him if you would be open for something more between the two of you. Ashton felt a spark of hope whenever he caught you in one of his shirts or hoodies, or those times you fell asleep with your head in his lap – there was something in the air, he was sure about that. You were way too comfortable with each other just to be friends. He just needed to be sure it wasn’t just unresolved sexual tension, but maybe something deeper.

His pants were already hanging open, rubbing his cock through his boxers as he listened to your moans and whimpers, tightening his fist around himself every time he heard you riding out your next orgasm. He was rock hard and leaking precum, soaking the fabric of his boxers as he quickened his pace, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep his own sounds at bay. This was the first time Ashton really let himself think about you like that – naked and writhing on your bed, fingers curling around his biceps or into his hair as he kissed and sucked your neck, leaving his marks on your skin as he took you hard and fast. He wished he could be the one drawing those sounds out of you, making your thighs shake and your body tremble as he made you come again and again.

A high-pitched moan echoed around the house and it took only a few more strokes for Ashton to reach his own orgasm, his sounds muffled by a hand over his mouth. With his back against the wall he gave himself a few seconds to catch his breath before scrambling back to his room. His face felt hot, hair sticking to his forehead as he shrugged off his shirt and jeans, his boxers a mess from his pleasure. He wiped himself before throwing his clothes into the hamper, crawling under his sheets as he tried to wrap his mind around what just happened. Ashton was ready to feel shame, to feel like he had violated your privacy which was one of the ground rules between the two of you – but he only felt the wild thumping of his heart and the pleasure still buzzing through him.

It might have been the first time he heard you through the walls – but it wasn’t the last.

*

From that point on it felt like a game that none of you wanted to really acknowledge you were playing. Some days it was you wearing only a shirt and a short with no underwear on as you’ve made breakfast, wanting to know if the sight would make Ashton finally tick. Other times it was him leaving the bathroom door open just a crack as he took a shower in the morning, his voice dangerously close to a moan while humming to himself. It was flirty remarks with double meanings, sentences cut short as they would give away too much, and touches that lingered on too long on knees and shoulders. It was Ashton leaving his shirts all over the place that you would pick up later and steal to sleep in them, always making sure to put them in the hamper before he caught you. Whenever you thought he was already asleep you’ve let your mind and hands wander, not knowing how he listened to your pleasure as he tried his hardest not to go over to your room and take you right then and there. Both of you wanted the same thing – you were just scared to take the necessary steps, not wanting to face the possibility that maybe you have misunderstood something.

*

Ashton’s been acting strange for weeks, and you started to feel like you may have done something that made him close himself in his office, spending hours on his phone and leaving the house for long periods of time. Then another thought crossed your mind, one that made you want to move out of the house immediately. If Ashton found someone for himself then you didn’t want things to be awkward for any of you – you’ve already spent a good chunk of your year living with him, maybe it was time to finally find your next home somewhere else where you wouldn’t be a third wheel. Again.

But before you could approach him with the question you were dragged away for a quick road trip by your friends, and at least for two days you were able to forget about your feelings and thoughts that all circled around him. The house seemed dark and empty when they’ve dropped you off at home, and you almost asked your girls to let you crash at one of their places as you were sure Ashton was out and most definitely with his mysterious new girlfriend, but they’ve already left the scene, making you look for your keys to enter the house.

What you didn’t expect was the lights turning on the moment you’ve stepped inside, familiar faces cheering and shouting ‘happy birthday’ at you as Ashton tackled you from his place next to the door, hugging you as he bellowed ‘surprise!’, making the both of you giggle. You quickly found out that he’s been organizing your party for weeks now, going out of his way to make it perfect, calling up all of your friends and looking for volunteers to help him get you out of the house until everything was prepared. By the time your road trip team arrived back to the house you were already changed out of your travel clothes, sipping on a glass of champagne and hugging Ashton, thanking him again and again for the amazing surprise.

His smile was wide, eyes sparkling as he pulled you to his chest to dance with him, and for a moment you’ve wished the two of you would be alone so you could kiss him senseless, properly thanking him for all the work he has done. You let your head rest on his shoulder, getting lost in his scent and how he held you, and he pressed a kiss on your temple before announcing that it was time for some birthday cake. You ended up with frosting all over your face, smearing some of it on Ashton and Calum’s cheek before continuing the party which lasted well past midnight.

Ashton wrapped his arm around your waist as he helped you upstairs, both of your tipsy giggles echoing around the house. Most of your friends have already left, but a few were passed out on the couch and fast asleep in the armchairs. He made sure you were put into bed safe and sound, wishing you a happy birthday once again as he closed the door behind himself. Ash stopped before going to his room, thinking about how he wanted to kiss you goodnight, how he wanted to press his lips against yours as one last present for your special day. He shook his head, telling himself that he needed to be sober before making decisions like this, and went to his room to sleep of his drunken haze – confessions can wait a few more hours.

*

Your eyes opened as you felt the mattress dip next to you, expecting to see Ashton with a cup of coffee, but only finding one of your guy friends asking if you wanted him to stick around and help you clean up after yesterday’s birthday party. You gave him a smile, telling him that he can definitely go home; you and Ashton will deal with the rest once you have woken up. He gave you a hug before leaving your room and in a minute you’ve heard the front door closing, signalling his departure.

You peeled yourself out of bed, throwing on an oversized shirt as you made your way downstairs, ready to see what needed to be done. The first step was definitely coffee, and as you waited for it you started to clean up the plastic cups and plates, collecting and throwing them into a bag. A song from last night got stuck in your head, something you have danced to with Ashton, and you bit your lip as you thought of his warm body wrapped up with yours. You hummed to yourself as you reached for two mugs, deciding that you will be the one bringing coffee for Ashton this morning – and who knows, maybe he will invite you to join him in his bed.

“What, is he gone already?”

Ashton’s gruff voice took you by surprise, and you spun around to face him, unsure of what he’s referring to. He was leaning against the wall, hair sleep mussed and arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you over.

“I don’t follow,” you shook your head, suddenly feeling small under his stare, and he just huffed.

“Right, cause Greg didn’t just leave your room this morning,” he rolled his eyes, voice full of venom as he spit the name out. “Stop playing around.”

“Well, if you need to know, then yes,” you crossed your arms as well, mirroring him. “He did come in before he left. What, am I not allowed to have friends over, especially ones you have invited? And anyway, are you spying on me?”

“Guess you got what you’ve craved? Did he finally fuck you?” he took a step forward, now towering above you. “I remember you telling me you had a crush on him.”

“Geez, Ash, what is up with you?” you looked at him in disbelief. “That was years ago, why would you bring that up now? And God no! No, he just came to ask if he could help me clean up.”

“Well, then where is he?” he quirked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like he’s into the whole housework thing.”

“I’ve told him we can clean up just fine. You and I. Didn’t want him to get under our feet.”

“Yes, but did he get under something else?” Ashton’s fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, eyes on fire as he tugged you closer. “Maybe he did clean you up…”

“Okay, stop that right now,” you pushed Ashton away, annoyed with his nonsense. “I don’t know what kind of weird stuff you’re talking about or why is this sudden interest in my sex life, and definitely don’t understand this… possessive jealous act. Coffee’s on the counter. Find me when you’ve cooled down.”

You’ve stepped around Ashton, ready to go back upstairs and curl up in your room, trying to make sense of his unexpected mood swings and strange words but you were suddenly pulled back by your shirt and before you knew it you were pushed up against the wall, Ashton pinning you there with his body.

“Stop,” he breathed heavily, fingers curling around your wrists before pulling them above your head. “You stay right here.”

“Or what?” you tilted your head up, looking into his eyes. “You revoke my roommate card?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” he shook his head before quickly licking his lips. “But I might make you pay your rent in a different way…”

“Fuck it, I’m done with this,” you huffed as you tugged your hands free from his grasp just to curl your fingers around his jaw, pulling him close and crashing your lips together.

Ashton moaned in your mouth, arms sliding around your waist to pull you closer to him, hands resting on the top of your ass. After months of letting the tension build between the two of you it finally broke, and you let yourself curl into Ashton’s embrace as his tongue licked against your lips, pushing it in to kiss you deeper. You were up on your tiptoes as your hands slid down to his shoulders and over his bare chest, tickling his sides before settling on the sweatpants riding low on his hips, fingertips pushing under the fabric. He chuckled against your lips before taking your wrists again and pulling them back between your bodies.

“Cute,” his tone was playful, voice just above a whisper. “But I have other ideas.”

Before you could ask him what he meant Ashton has already turned you around, pushing you up against the wall again, his body melting against your back. A moan slipped out of you as you felt his hardening cock on your ass, his lips skimming on the back of your neck, teeth lightly nibbling on your skin. He pressed a kiss against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

“You sound even more beautiful like this. Not muffled by doors and walls and the hallway.”

“Ash–” his name got stuck in your throat when you felt your skin turn hot as you realized what he was talking about. “Fuck!”

“You want me to do that? Fuck you like I’ve wanted to for months?” he rutted his cock against your ass, and you’ve tried to push back to feel more of him.

“Yes! Please Ashton, just… please… wanted you for so long,” you practically begged him to take you right then and there, and you heard him groan against your neck.

One of his hands slid up your chest to cup your breast over your shirt while the other stroked over your inner thigh, palm curling against your heat. Your panties were already soaked and Ashton let out a satisfied hum as he pushed his fingers under the fabric, drawing slow, soft circles around your clit.

“Do your fingers feel this good?” he nipped at your ear, and you shook your head while trying to move your hips to get more friction. “You sure seemed to like them… sometimes it felt like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours…”

“Been thinking about you… how your fingers would feel inside me…” you licked your lips, hands slipping against the wall as you moved back against him. “How you would feel inside me…”

“Why don’t we find out?” his hand tugged your panties to the side, middle finger running through your wet folds until it circled around your entrance, slowly pushing inside. “Better than your own?”

“I can take much more,” you let out a giggle which immediately turned into a moan as Ashton quickly pushed in another finger. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Let’s see how much more you can take, pretty girl.”

His fingers started moving in and out of you, quickly finding that sweet spot inside you that made your legs shake and your breaths hitching. His name on your lips mixed with moans and whimpers and fucks as his thumb dragged against your clit, never missing a beat as he pleasured you. One of your hands reached for his, and he interlocked your fingers, holding you close to his body with both of your arms around your middle. Your head was thrown back against his chest, his lips kissing your forehead and murmuring praises as he worked you toward an orgasm.

“Wanna see you cum for me,” Ashton picked up the pace of his fingers and you felt the unmistakable clenching of your walls around them. “Show me how you look when you think of me, baby. Cum on my fingers like you’ve imagined.”

“Ashton, fuck! I’m close…” you whined against his neck, and you felt his thumb rub your clit even harder. “Ash–”

In that moment you’ve chocked on your next moan, your whole body trembling against his as pleasure filled you from head to the tip of your toes. His fingers didn’t let up their work as you clenched around them, making you see stars as another smaller shock ran through your body. You leaned against the wall to collect yourself, moaning as you felt Ashton move right behind you, his fingers still deep in your pussy, slowing down their pace but never pulling out.

“Sensitive…” you whimpered when he swiped his thumb over your swollen clit, your hand reaching for his between your legs to make him pull out.

“Oh no, I wasn’t done with you yet…” he pushed your hand back against the wall with his free one, still lightly stroking in and out of you.

“Fuck, I can’t…” you whined between moans, and he clicked his tongue before kissing your ear, hot words whispered against your skin.

“You seemed to like having multiple orgasms during your play times,” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth before kissing your jaw. “So this is for all those times I’ve heard you getting off in your room and not being able to do anything about it.”

And with that his fingers picked up the pace again, rubbing and stroking and fucking you, not caring how sensitive you were from your previous orgasm. Your vision blurred, toes curling against the tiles as you felt the next rush of pleasure shaking your body, making Ashton push his cock even more against you while letting you ride out your climax on his fingers.

Your ears were ringing, breasts heaving as you’ve tried to catch your breath while Ashton slowly eased his fingers out of you, holding onto your hips to keep you upright. He pressed a kiss against your neck, tugging on the collar of the shirt to feel more of your skin, teeth lightly biting you, leaving the smallest of marks on your shoulder before he turned you around, making you lean back against the wall. You gave him the smallest of pouts and he chuckled, pressing his lips against yours, softly kissing you while your fingers curled into his hair at the nape of his neck, and his into the side of your panties, tugging them down your legs. Before you knew it he was already on his knees, pushing your shirt up to kiss your stomach, making his way down.

“You can’t be fucking serious…” you clutched at his hair as he pressed his lips lower, nose nudging at your bellybutton.

“Don’t say you didn’t think about me like this,” he looked up at you, hazel eyes sparking with mischief as he licked between your folds, tongue slowly swirling around your clit.

“More times than I could tell,” you tugged on his dark hair, not sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

Ashton hummed as he licked you again, fingers running down your thigh before his fingers curled around the back of your knee, pulling your leg over his shoulder. He dived back in, lips and tongue licking and sucking at your pussy, practically making out with it as you moaned and trashed above him. He switched between long strokes and teasing circles around your hole, lips closing around your clit as his fingers slipped back inside you. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and you pulled on his hair as he brought you to your third orgasm. You felt your thighs shake as he put your leg back on the floor, and he quickly stood up to wrap you in his arms, not wanting you to fall over.

“You’re killing me,” you panted against his neck as Ashton squeezed your hips, suddenly picking you up and making his way towards the living room.

“And I’m still not done with you. You’ve been a tease for months, it’s time to give you what you really deserve,” in seconds he pushed you down on the couch, climbing over you before crashing his lips against yours.

There was nothing slow or soft about his moves now, he was a man on a mission as he tugged off your shirt, lips closing around your nipple while he thumbed the other, making them harder and even more sensitive than before. You would have pressed your thighs together if he wasn’t between them, so instead you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer like that. A chuckle left his lips as he pulled back, kneeling up on the couch and looking over your body. Heat crawled up your neck under his gaze, your body on fire, your mind hazy, the only thing you were sure about was that you wanted Ashton right now.

He must have felt the same about you as he quickly got up to kick off his sweatpants, his cock hard and curling against his stomach as he climbed back over you, letting you wrap your hand around his length as he kissed you again. You moaned into each other’s mouths, clearly done with your teasing now, and just wanting to feel what it was like when you let your feelings take over. Ashton pulled your legs back around his waist, elbows resting next to your head as his fingers curled into your hair, knocking his forehead against yours. His eyes were dark and full of something you haven’t seen before, but you found that you wanted to see it again and again. You tilted your head up, brushing your lips against his while guiding his cock against your hole, sighing as he finally pushed in.

Ashton took you with one smooth thrust, his groans filling your ears as he felt your heat wrap around him. He rested his hips against yours only for a second before he started moving, lips latching onto your neck to suck a mark into your skin.

“Fuck, Ash, I won’t last…” you whimpered as his cock hit your sweet spot again and again, your fingers leaving small crescent marks on his biceps as you held onto him.

“Cum again, baby,” he pushed his lips against yours, hips quickly snapping into you. “Cum again and make me cum with you. Show me what I’ve been missing by not fucking you sooner.”

His words triggered your orgasm, your whines muffled against his shoulder as you shook under him, your walls clenching around his cock like you wanted him to stay in you forever. Ashton groaned as he pounded into you a few more times, then suddenly his body tensed above you, his cock buried deep inside your pussy as his cum filled you up. He pressed chaste kisses on your cheek and lips before pulling out of you and you whined at the loss of his body heat. He shushed you, his voice sweet as he told you he will be back in a second, and then you’ve lost sight of him.

You were pretty sure you have blacked out for some time from the intense orgasms you just had because the next thing you knew was Ashton in his sweatpants, a washcloth in his hand as he softly cleaned you up. He helped you back in your shirt, rubbing his nose against yours as he said something about how you have to be careful before standing up. You clearly didn’t listen to him because the next time he came back you were already lying on the floor, giggling about how clumsy you are. Ashton shook his head before kneeling down next to you, reaching for a pillow to put it under your head, and when he was done, he crawled over you, slowly resting his body against yours, his head on your breasts.

“This was… something…” you let your fingers run through his hair, and he nodded, burrowing closer to you.

“Y/N?” he slowly looked up at you, eyes back to their soft hazel colour, and you felt your heart beating just a little quicker than before.

“Yeah?” you bit your lip, suddenly unsure of what Ashton’s next words would be.

“I guess I do need to ask you to stop being my roommate,” he pushed himself up and over you, resting his weight on his arms next to your head.

“I– uhm… I mean, of course, it’s your house and…” you started babbling, but Ashton quickly shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips.

“No, God no!” he leaned forward to press his lips against yours, silencing you with a kiss. “Silly girl. No, I want you to move out of the guest bedroom and into mine. Can’t have you moaning my name across the hallway when you could do it in my bed instead.”

“Ashton Irwin, you’re the most terrible roommate ever,” you huffed out a laugh, your cheeks hot from your blush and his kiss. “You really want me to…”

“Yes. A 100% yes. I would have offered months ago, but I… guess I wasn’t sure about where we stood…” he confessed, knocking his forehead against yours while he rubbed your nose with his. “Didn’t want to ruin our friendship because I started to have feelings for you.”

“Better late than never, I guess,” you cupped his face in your palms, thumbs rubbing his cheeks lovingly. “Did you really get jealous of Greg?”

“God, he ticked me off, didn’t he?” he moaned, face heating up from the memory. “I saw him leaving your room, but didn’t remember seeing him going in, and then you were only wearing a shirt and those panties and I just… I had this thought last night how I want to finally kiss you and tell you how I feel, and then he was there and I’ve thought…”

“There’s only you, Ash,” now it was your turn to press your lips against his. “Don’t need anyone else when I have the best roommate/creative partner/body pillow/shirt supplier/chef/party planner/possible boyfriend all in one package.”

“Would definitely love to be the boyfriend,” he chuckled, fingers tangling into your hair.

“Guess I could upgrade my roommate membership to girlfriend too?” you quirked an eyebrow at him and Ashton started giggling, nuzzling close again.

“For you it’s entirely free, sweetheart.”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @ashtondaddy90 @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 7 』

· Oct. 1st → Fly! ·

Characters: (teams) Karasuno, Nekoma, Fukurodani, Aoba Johsai, Shiratorizawa, (indiv.) Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Aone Takanobu

Prompts: A. free choice!

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), Among Us (video game), PG, fluff, crack, video games, video game violence/death, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020

A/N: Among Us is a bit of a hot meme at the moment (great game. Go and play it/watch other people play it if you can. Get a feel for the game if you somehow haven't already.) So I thought, 'Hey, why not?' I mean, I do need to heal my heart after my Day 6 post, so...

What an amazing week it's been! Well done, everyone! All of my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts are SFW, but there's a little treasure trove of NSFW on my blog, too. Please peruse to your heart's content. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

Haikyuu boys / playing Among Us

☆ Karasuno ☆

Literally the loudest games you'll ever witness

You know that grainy, electronic crackle that happens when everybody yells on Discord at the same time? Yeah. That

Kageyama can't lie for shit. It's so obvious when he's lying that it's a genuine miracle if he doesn't immediately get ejected

And he stands in all the wrong places when he's faking doing his tasks 😭😭

But he sounds super suspicious when he's telling the truth, too 😅

Noya and Tanaka buddy up no matter what, and go around trying to clear or murder people together

They also end up fuelling each other's incorrect assumptions

Asahi is way too timid to murder anyone right away, so if nobody dies in the first two rounds, you know it's him or someone trying to frame him...

Daichi is the host and tries to keep order in the lobby...tries someone help him

Hinata: Guys, please stop swearing! Natsu is watching me play!! waahhh 🙈 so cute 😇

Hinata always has to be orange. Don't touch his orange

Ennoshita is the king of self-reporting and getting away with it it just be like that

Kageyama goes around called 'Milk' 🥛

Tsukki tries to big-brain the shit out of it 🤣

He's also hella manipulative as an imposter and refuses to kill Yamaguchi 😭

Suga likes to take out the oxygen/recator and lie in wait for the people who come to fix it he will giggle adorably when it ends up working, which sounds kinda pshyco, ngl 😂

But totally screams at his screen when someone he suspected sneaks up on him and kills him

Yamaguchi low-key prefers the mini games to the actual game 😭😭

And Yachi loves being pink and wearing the little flower in her hair ngl, she nearly fainted the first time she got killed

She doesn't play with them often because it's so loud 😬

☆ Nekoma ☆

Kenma streams the gaming sessions on Twitch, and now they kind of have a cult following 🤷‍♀️

These fans be thirsting hard, too like us

Check out my smut headcanons, y'all 🙌

Kuroo is the closest to a genius player you're ever going to see

He does his tasks fairly efficiently, he's good at remembering layouts and people's movements, he calculates the timings of his kills with terrifying accuracy, defends himself pretty well, whether he's lying or not, can gaslight the entire lobby into sussing an innocent person, and pieces together other people's lies with surprising ease

Do not cross Kuroo. He's scary at this game. He's not the Scheming Captain for nothing, y'all

Lev is the kind of person to vent right in front of someone by accident, which is so awkward, but so funny 😂

The entire team must wear the bear ears hat. Yes, that is a rule

It's the closest to cat ears they have right now....

Kenma is pretty quiet when he's playing. He doesn't normally play online games, but his streams took off on Twitch, sooo~

Kenma also has radar ears and can somehow detect when people are lying, but waits until he has proof to accuse them he smart 🤓

☆ Fukurodani ☆

'Whoever Talks the Loudest is Right' mentality 😂

And Bokuto will defend himself at the volume of an air raid siren

Akaashi stays as quiet as possible so he doesn't give anything away

When Bokuto starts sussing people, it turns into something out of Ace Attorney like, chill tf out, man 😂

But his guesses are normally completely wrong

Akaashi sets good parameters for the games, because he's sensible

If Bokuto is given the chance to host the lobby....he will set one task each, put everyone at 4x speed, give the imposter zero cooldown time, and sit back and watch the chaos

Whenever somebody doesn't have an absolutely airtight alibi–

Bokuto: That's hella sus, bro

Lots of childish nicknames, because...well, they're all mentally six years old

Except Akaashi, who has a higher mental age than all of them combined

Let me just say that when Bokuto and Kuroo play together, shit gets so funny

When one of them is an imposter, they will literally vent in front of the other one and trust them not to out them 😂😂

☆ Aoba Johsai ☆

Iwa-chan can always tell when Oikawa is lying, and constantly calls him out on it

Iwa: That's his lying voice. Shitty-kawa is lying. He's the imposter. Vote him off

Oikawa: IWAAA-CHAAAN D:<

Because Iwa's right about Oikawa when he is the imposter, it makes it easy to frame him when it's actually Iwa who's the imposter

And no-one believes Tooru 😭😭

Kyoutani has no chill as an imposter

He just murders everyone on sight, right in front of people, too

Kindaichi tends to accuse people with very little evidence, but his instincts are weirdly accurate

Oikawa gets killed almost immediately every game, so if he isn't dead two emergency meetings in, he's 100% an imposter 😭😭

He then goes around as a salty ghost when he's killed off, mumbling to himself about injustice as he refuses to do his tasks and watches the people who voted him off get murdered one by one

Not that anyone's holding a grudge 🙄😂

Oikawa refuses to be purple and always kills whoever is purple first because it reminds him of Ushijima 😭😭

☆ Shiratorizawa ☆

Ushijima refuses to play if he can't be purple give it back. N O W

And it takes him a long time to get used to the game and the rules

'Why are the lights off? What are these tasks? Why is that one flashing at me? Where is med bay? Why can I use this vent? What's this big, red button for?' etc.

You get the idea. Toshi = big noob

He doesn't really understand the concept of lying, either...

He keeps forgetting to mute himself and ends up saying some very incriminating stuff over the mic which has everyone in literal tears from laughter

Tendou is a sneaky S.O.B, using those vents like a pro and gaslighting perfectly innocent people he's a little bloodthirsty, too 🤫

And his initial guesses about who's the imposter are almost always 100% correct Guess Monster, y'all

Goshiki goes around trying to clear people by watching them doing their tasks, especially Ushijima

But then he gets called suspicious for hanging around people too much

The first time an emergency meeting was ever called, Ushijima literally asked "Why is my name in red?" much to everyone's amusement

Everyone's scared of Ushijima when he follows them, but it normally turns out that he just doesn't know where he's going

Shirabu tends to lose his shit when people start accusing him and he's innocent, and will never EVER trust a word that comes out of Goshiki's mouth

Speaking of, Goshiki and Shirabu – boy, do they bicker like eight year-olds, wasting entire voting rounds just arguing with each other 🙄😭

So everyone else decides to vote off one, and then the other at the next meeting 😭😭

Misc.

☆ The Miya twins ☆

Atsumu puts 100% trust in Osamu not to kill him, even if he is the imposter

How could he? He's his brother. His twin. His other half. They share a unique bond–

And then he screams in betrayal when Osamu slaughters him mercilessly 😂😂

Osamu is unaffected by the sudden outburst from his brother's room

Put them together as an imposter duo, though, and you're in for some trouble

They often win by executing a perfect double kill

And they're both pretty good at lying, but Osamu will not hesitate to throw Atsumu under the bus and vote him off if he's being too suspicious or the lobby has turned against him 😂

Ah, the bond of brotherhood 😂

☆ Aone Takanobu ☆

Aone doesn't talk very much

But when he does, his voice is so low and even that nobody ever suspects he's the imposter

I'm thinking like Corpse Husband, if you've seen him playing with Pewds and the gang

It doesn't really occur to people that he could be lying. He seems so trustworthy and honest

Finds it very hard to blame anyone else, though

Is fairly decent as doing his tasks as a crewmate, but it takes him a long time to remember the layouts of the ships

Almost never gets voted off the ship

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 4

previous | next

series masterlist

sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 4.2k

chapter rating | PG-13

warnings | none

a/n | IM SO SORRY this is late 😔😔 skldjflkj i was trying to get this out for namjoon’s bday butttt i failed HAHAH sighz life just threw consecutive curveballs my way ok but here we go!!!! part foouuuurrrr

If you thought things between you and Namjoon would be awkward, well, they were. Undeniably and unbearably awkward. The silence stretched long between you without Hoseok to fill the space. Maybe you should have reserved some topics of idle chatter instead of expending them all during last night’s dinner. Maybe you should have asked Namjoon to come over after Hoseok’s dance class. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to hang out at all.

Wistful regretting will get you nowhere. You know that. But you indulge in it all the same, stirring your straw and watching the ice cubes in your latte swirl and clink against the sides of the glass. Pointedly keeping your eyes trained on your half-full cup and off the man seated at your shared table in the cafe, his fingers thrumming nervously on said table, you feel a twinge of guilt. How long will you let this silence drag on?

It’s not for the lack of trying. You’re trying. You really are. And you know that Namjoon is too. Small talk just seems to evade you. And deeper issues are off the table, for now at least. Not until you’re sure that he’s not going to abruptly drop out of your life again. Although you’ve agreed to give him a second chance at friendship, the emotional shields were still difficult to lower.

Flicking your eyes to your watch for the thousandth time that afternoon, the unease only gnaws at you further when you realize that the minute hand has scarcely ticked forward by two minutes. Forty more minutes to go. It feels like it’ll be a lifetime before Hoseok is done.

As Hoseok’s weekend trip came to an end, you wondered if the hangouts with Namjoon would experience a similar fate.

But then again, it’s not Hoseok whose friendship he was looking to rebuild. That had never ended. It was just yours. So should you really have been surprised when he invited you out for lunch midweek when Hoseok was miles away back home and away from the city?

You had to give him credit. When he said that he would do anything he could to attempt to make reconciliation happen, the guy had really meant it.

The first couple of lunches together - lunches that you dragged yourself to because you had agreed to give him a second chance - were a total cringefest.

Namjoon was the one who pushed through it with unwavering perseverance. And that was what spurred you to continue trying.

It’s not like you don’t enjoy his company. You do. It’s hard not to, really. Not when his dimpled smile and rounded pleading eyes are as disarming as they are. Namjoon has always been a good listener, always making you feel valued for your ideas no matter the frivolity, but lately he’s picked up this habit of bending down to your height, tipping his chin down just so so he can peer up at you with the most puppy dog look ever and you just- you can’t handle it.

It’s devastating. It’s irresistible. It’s a bulldozer through all the walls you’ve put up over the years, smashing them to rubble in a matter of weeks.

And so the lunches you used to drag yourself to became lunches to be anticipated. The text conversations that began in stiff formality soon gave way to a barrage of emojis and typos left uncorrected, and you find your walls gradually giving way too. The two of you had always shared an easy chemistry, something that hasn’t faded with the years and unaffected by the breakup.

The breakup was the one thing that still remained taboo.

Well if he hadn’t wanted to speak about it in the time leading up to your breakup back then, why would he want to talk about it now?

You know you’ve chosen to forgive him. But the residual bitterness still sits much like the dredges at the bottom of your daily morning cup of coffee. Unprovoked, it would be fine. It lies dormant so long as nothing shakes it up.

And you’re not going to shake it up. Because you’re over Namjoon.

“Ke- ketchup?!” Namjoon sputters, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I know it’s been five years, but damn…”

“What?” Your tone is defensive, but your facial expression is irrefutably sheepish as you drag a fry through the offensive red condiment you’d just squeezed onto your plate.

“What ever happened to the vendetta against ketchup?” he asks, still gaping at sight of you consuming the very thing you’d once condemned as unworthy of being ingested.

You shrug and answer simply, “Lots of things can change in five years.”

It was just meant to be a passing comment, nothing more. But Namjoon seems to take in the sight of you afresh, then nods emphatically.

“That, it can.”

The noise that escapes you is tiny, hopefully indiscernible, as he places an elbow on the table, suddenly leaning forward with his chin in hand, hovering over his half-eaten club sandwich. Determinedly refraining from shifting a little in your seat under his scrutinizing gaze, the words of protest sit heavy on your tongue as you keep a tight grip on them much in the same stubborn manner. You will not break. You’re over him.

“You’ve changed,” he says, gaze still roving over you. It’s not an accusation in the slightest, but more of an observation. “And it’s not just the ketchup.”

“Thank god. If the only character growth I’ve made in the past five years is learning to consume ketchup, then that’d be a real problem.”

He laughs - the staccato hah odd but familiar - and reclines back, elbow propped casually against the back of the chair now.

“But for real,” he says, gesturing with his sandwich-filled hand, the crumbs go flying all over the table. He takes a pause as he stuffs the entirety of it in his mouth, his cheeks bulging with the too-big-mouthful. It’s amazing how he doesn’t choke, but he manages, gulping it down so he can continue. “It’s like you’re more comfortable in your own skin now somehow.”

“Hm,” you ponder between your own bites of your burger, “what do you mean by that?”

“You just seem more sure of who you are lately.”

You purse your lips at that. After the breakup, you finally stopped chasing Joon’s shadow and embarked on your own journey of self-discovery. But you can’t tell him that.

“Maybe,” you offer instead. “I could say the same about you. About having changed, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you emphasize, jabbing towards him with a fry. “It feels like -” same fry still in hand, you tap it against your lip as you think through your words, then point it at him again as it comes to you - “like you’re finally letting the words out. You’ve always had this really deep inner world - god knows how many times I’ve lost you mid-conversation to your daydreaming - but now you actually verbalize it.”

The poor fry that’s been waved all around as you gesticulated your thoughts finally gets popped into your mouth. “And it’s nice. It’s nice having a peek into the landscapes of your mind.”

“Maybe it comes with publishing,” he jokes, but his eyes shine with unsaid appreciation at your words.

Your heartbeat stutters a little at the sight of it, but you ignore it. Because you’re over him.

You’re over him. You’re over him, you’re over him, you’re over him.

That’s what you remind yourself, smacking your cheeks as if the sting of it would resonate the words into your stupid brain and make. it. stick.

Sighing out to yourself in the bathroom, you ready yourself to return to the living room. To return to Namjoon.

Yes, it’s pathetic, but you’re hiding in the bathroom away from Namjoon.

Steeling your nerves, you twist the lock and pad your way trepidly back to the sofa where Namjoon sits.

Feigning normalcy, you take a seat next to him and tap away at your phone for a distraction.

Underneath you, the cushions shift and jostle you lightly with the shift in Namjoon’s weight as he scoots closer to you. His warmth bleeds into you where his thigh presses against yours. At least he’s got his pants back on.

“____.”

You look up at him.

“Are you really ok?” His eyes are full of emotion - concern, repentance, sincerity - as they search yours.

“It’s fine, Joon.”

It’s not.

Maybe you were being too naive when you thought you could just be friends. That whatever existed between you two before all this would never get in the way. That the same memories that plague you don’t similarly affect Namjoon.

It had all been going well before this came in like a bucket of cold water dousing you in shock from head to toe.

Namjoon sat in your bed, blankets pooled around his waist to conceal his bottom half. His pantsless bottom half. Not that it took particular prominence in your mind, you dismiss, as you focus on pulling the thread through.

It seems Namjoon’s reputation as the god of destruction lives on. And neither his pants nor his ego are safe from it. What began as an afternoon of dorky fun, attempting to reproduce Hoseok’s latest choreography video (and poorly), peaked into hilarity when Namjoon’s pants spontaneously decided they would have no more of what can barely be termed as dancing. With a sharp ripping noise, his pants seam tore straight down the middle.

The way his eyes shot wide, his hands flying to shield his crotch, had you doubling over in laughter till your sides hurt and you had to gasp to catch your breath between peals of laughter. He whined for you to stop, but it only made it all that much funnier.

The occasional giggle still escaped you, but eventually you calmed down enough to offer to patch it up for him, brandishing the sewing kit you retrieved from the depths of your closet.

And that’s how he ended up hiding under the covers while you mended the rip in his berms.

A chuckle - this time not your own - breaks your concentration.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Hey.” You elbow him lightly. “Share the joke.”

He bites his lip as he considers it for a second. Prodding him once more, it makes him relent.

“I mean, I imagined being undressed in your bed again, but I definitely didn’t think it would be like this.”

Oh.

Oh.

It registers somewhere in the back of your mind that it is pretty funny. But your laugh sounds hollow, even in your ears. Dropping your gaze back to your stitching, to the sewing that you’ve completed, but you repeat the stitch on the same spot a couple more times. It’s unnecessary, but it’s all you have to hold on to right now in the midst of your shock.

But you can only do this for so long before it reveals itself for the irrationality it is. Knotting it up and snipping the thread hastily, you pass the article of clothing back to Namjoon as you rise from where you were perched on the edge of the bed, the action taking him by surprise.

“Here, I’ll give you some privacy to put them back on. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

You’re speeding off before he can get a single word in.

“____,” the sound of your name pulls you out of your thoughts. His hand is warm where it grasps your arm, shaking you gently. He’s doing his head ducking thing again, stooped to your level so his eyes can bore straight into yours. “I crossed a line, didn’t I?”

“No, no.” You shake your head, and you fake a smile as you huff out an exhale. “It was a good joke, Joon.”

“But it made you uncomfortable.” His eyes never leave yours. “I made you uncomfortable.”

You don’t answer. What were you supposed to say?

“I’m really sorry, ____. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine, Joon. It’s fine.”

It’s not. It’s really not.

But it has to be. Because you’re over him.

It’d occurred to you once that the fates had a sense of humor, and now you’re quickly realizing that tormenting you is their favorite brand of humor.

It should be great that Namjoon blended into your friend group with little to no problem.

Ever since the first time you invited him over for lunch in the museum’s cafe - something that was meant to be a one-off, a compromise so you wouldn’t have to cancel your lunch appointment with Namjoon while also accommodating the deluge of urgent work that had cropped up without warning - his visits, both to the museum and its cafe, had become much more frequent. When asked about it, he’d explained that the artwork in the galleries became a great source of inspiration for his own work.

But you know the real reason. He’s lonely.

The city may be bustling with people, but it’s still a lonely place. At least with your job, you have regular coworkers you meet every day and have formed friendships with. But for Namjoon, being a novelist may grant him the luxury of flexibility in his work environment, but it also denies him the company of regular coworkers. His ready availability, no matter whether it was for morning coffee runs or lunch appointments or after-work dinner or drinks, made it easy to piece together that his way of life before this was quite a solitary one.

So it should fill you with selfless joy that your close friends have taken to him well.

In reality, a selfish jealousy simmers in the pit of your gut.

Watching as Yeri feeds Namjoon a piece of cupcake, your stomach turns at the blatant attempts at flirting. Unable to stand the sight, your gaze drops swiftly to the cupcake in your own hand. Chomping into it, you grind your teeth with a force that’s entirely unnecessary for such a moist cupcake.

You have no right to be upset with Yeri. Honestly, she’d done her due diligence. You’re the one to blame.

Having recognized Namjoon from the lecture, and noticing the number of times he’d walked you to work after your occasional morning coffee run, it wasn’t long before Yeri marched you to the pantry, arm hooked in yours. She steered you away from prying ears and towards where Soo-eun sat, waiting.

Yeri plucks the coffee cup out of your hand, ignoring your sputtered protests, and places it firmly on the counter with a solid thud, hot liquid sloshing about in the cup and rendering the poor barista’s efforts at latte art a complete waste.

“I’m sick of waiting for you to spill to us about your boyfriend, ____, so I’m taking things into my own hands! It’s been weeks. We need the juicy details!”

Soo-eun, who had been brewing her own cup of tea, nodded as she stuck her tea bag into her mug. “I have to admit, I’ve been waiting too.”

“Guys,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal. “It’s not like that. He’s just a really old friend.”

Well. It’s half true. They don’t need the messy details, you decide, as you recount how you met Namjoon all those years ago. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re over him.

“Nooo,” Yeri whines, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “I thought something juicy was finally happening in your life, ____.”

Oh, if only she knew.

Jealousy bubbles up like an emotional acid reflux that you desperately try to keep down. With every flirtatious touch, you have to remind yourself that you’d never explicitly communicated that Namjoon was off-limits. Because he’s not.

You can’t lay a claim on him because he’s not yours. Not anymore.

But as you grapple with the jealousy that threatens to boil over, you’re forced to wonder - maybe you’re not that over him.

You put a finger to your lips, shushing your friends, then beckon them forward. Shooting them a thumbs-up, they return ones of their own.

Your knocks rap sharply on the wooden door. Heavy footsteps approach the door and the three of you ready yourselves.

The door cracks open and Namjoon peeks out, messy-haired and shirt all rumpled.

“____, wha-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!” your trio hollers more than sings.

As the song - if the cacophony can even be called that - carries on without care for neither the time (midnight) nor the neighbors (probably highly annoyed), Yeri shoves the cake into Namjoon’s unsuspecting hands, clearly unaware of his klutzy nature, and the cake very nearly ends up in a heap of strawberries and cream on the ground. But your hand shoots out to catch it, rebalancing the weight of it quickly, well-practiced after the years of growing up around Namjoon. The reflex action doesn’t go unnoticed by him and his lips quirk upwards as Soo-eun snaps a party hat - glittery and obnoxious just like the ones donning each one of your own heads - to Namjoon's head, hiding his bed hair.

"... happy birthday to yoooouuuu," the song drags out into a dissonant finale.

Namjoon's smile has always been captivating, but it's even more so with his features illuminated by the soft orange glow of the candlelight. The tenderness so evident in his eyes pulls you in, irresistible and unrelenting. And though the urge to avert your gaze usually plagues you inanely, it seems to have been entirely overrode by this strange new fixation on the sight of his dewy-eyed expression.

“Thank you so much,” he says, and the sincerity in his words isn’t diminished even with the way he half-whispers it out.

Quiet affection settles like a gentle hum in your heart. Before this, the exhaustion from the day had been eating at you, your eyes strained and dry from the unforgiving glare of your screen at work, your bones heavy with lethargy and craving nothing more than the plush welcoming hug of your mattress. But now, seeing him alight in jubilation, it’s enough that you feel the tiredness recede.

“But please.” He hurriedly jabs a thumb back to his apartment twice. “My neighbors’ hate for me is probably increasing at an exponential rate the longer we stand here.”

“Screw them!” Yeri whispers sharply, the irony of it lost on her. “Blow out your candles first, Joonie.”

Joonie.

Just a single word, but it yanks you right out of the pleasantry you’d been floating along in. Jealousy pulls you under, suddenly irrationally possessive over the simple nickname as you drown in the ebbing waves of the nasty emotion.

Turning back to Namjoon, you plaster on a polite smile. “Yeah, make a wish first.”

Looking between the three of you, it registers that none of you are going to be making any moves to enter his place until he submits to your bidding. Better to just you guys what you want. Relenting, the candles get extinguished in two puffs, and your cheers - hushed this time - fill the hallway.

“Alright!” Yeri claps her hands together, breaking out of a whisper with her exclamation. “Time to check out Namjoon’s abode!”

In typical devil-may-care Yeri fashion, she pushes past Namjoon and walks freely into the place, making herself comfortable. Used to her antics by now, Soo-eun laughs a little, but follows her lead, grabbing the cake from Namjoon on her way in.

“I’ll get this sliced.”

Your eyes trail after Soo-eun as she enters the apartment. When you turn back to Namjoon, you find him looking at you. There it is again, that look. It’s a look that you don’t want - don’t dare - to decipher, but it’s a look that seems to linger whenever he thinks you won’t notice.

You’ve noticed it for weeks now.

In feigned nonchalance, you brush past Namjoon to make a beeline for his couch. After the number of times you’ve hung out at each other’s places, Namjoon’s apartment is like a second home to you now.

“How’d you know I’d be home?” His voice is echoey where it carries over from the doorway as you plop yourself into the leather seat, letting your body get swallowed up in comfort. The front door clicks shut and Namjoon joins you in the living room soon after.

“Face it, Joonie,” Yeri calls from where she’s inspecting his bookshelf. “We’re your only friends in this city.”

“Ouch.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But touche.”

Slices of cake get distributed, courtesy of Soo-eun, and the couch gets crowded as all four of you squeeze onto the tiny thing that was definitely meant to seat two. But there’s no complaints. Not when there’s cake.

Squished between Namjoon and Soo-eun, your bodies pressed up side by side, you’re not sure if you’re imagining it when you feel Namjoon stiffen up momentarily, then hesitantly relax and lean into you. The feel of him is indulgently familiar, and you wonder if it’s the same for him.

The room settles into a contented quiet for a while. Clearly, consuming the dessert takes priority over conversation.

It’s Soo-eun who starts up the conversation again. “Didn’t you go to college here, Namjoon?” she asks. “Did you not keep in contact with anyone?”

You watch carefully as Namjoon fiddles with his fork as he clears his throat. “How do I put this?” he begins, the silver of the fork gleaming distractingly with the way it catches the light under his fidgeting. “I guess, I, um, wasn’t in the best space in college to be making friends.”

“Well,” Yeri interjects before the mood can dampen further, placing a hand on Namjoon’s thigh, “that’s fine, because you have us now!”

Namjoon eyes the hand on his thigh, but says nothing. Jealousy threatens to consume you. Teetering on the brink and frankly unsure which way it would swing, you jump up from the couch.

“I’m kind of thirsty from all the dessert.” It’s a blatant lie. You’ve only had two bites. “I’ll get water for everyone.”

Extricating yourself from the situation, you march into the kitchen. Concentrating on locating the drinking glasses helps to get your mind off of what just happened and the jealousy seeps away.

The drawer where most of Namjoon keeps most of his utensils opens to reveal three glasses. Looking around for a fourth, you finally spy one sitting on a high shelf to the left of the sink.

Rising onto your tiptoes to reach for the glass, you stubbornly maintain that you can reach it if you just stretch that last inch, but a tanned arm grabs it before you can.

The clink of the glass on the counter is barely audible with the way your ears feel like they’re completely stuffed up with cotton. The warmth emanating from the figure behind you causes warmth of your own to rise in your cheeks.

You whirl around.

“I could have gotten that,” you say, trying but failing to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “I didn’t need your help.”

“You seem a little off. Are you okay?” Namjoon asks, his brown eyes scanning you. Testament to the decades of friendship you two shared, of course he would know something was wrong.

“Sorry for being a party-pooper on your birthday, Joon. I’m just tired,” you say with a sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

His hand raises, as if meaning to touch you, but stills for a moment before it drops back to his side.

“I understand. Thank you, ____. You didn’t have to do all this for me, y’know. You should have just gone home to rest.”

“But I wanted to,” the admittance comes slipping out. You frown a little as you look him in the eye. “How did you celebrate your birthday last year, Namjoon?”

His jaw, slacked in surprise, fidgets as he formulates a response. Finally, he huffs out a sad laugh. “I didn’t.”

The hollow loneliness pangs through you and even if it’s only secondhand, it’s still enough that it wraps around and constricts your heart, the emotion welling up tightly in your chest.

Against all better judgment, against the boundary lines you’d carefully drawn up, against the promise of just friends, nothing more, you reach for Namjoon’s hand. As your thumb skims over his knuckles, you marvel at how familiar the sensation of his skin under yours feels, even after all this time.

The way he watches the tender strokes of your thumb - that same lingering look you didn’t want to confront - confirms your earlier thought. The indulgent familiarity of each other’s touch is one that is shared.

“Has it been really lonely?” you ask, compassion leaking through the crack in your voice.

The pause is answer enough. And you expected it. What you didn’t expect, though, was his reply, “I have you now.”

The sheer amount of cherishment in his eyes plunges you into an abyss you can’t fathom ever emerging from.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as you lean in close, catching the way his eyes widen in your peripheral vision.

“Happy birthday, Namjoon,” you whisper into his ear. And, fuck it, you snip the final cord of self-discipline, untethered and free-falling into the dizzying swirl of emotions as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You’re definitely not over him.

[crazy4dragons]

Just Friends

A fluffy fic about the events after Everything Will Be Okay. Like Heaven AU. Rating: PG-13 (language, sex mention, but overall they’re still pretty wholesome here!).

“Hey, Astrid? Astrid?”

Astrid awoke to Hiccup gently nudging her side with his elbow and whispering her name. “Mmm,” she groaned, pulling the blanket over her face.

“You told me to wake you up so you could take a shower before bed.”

“Fine,” sighed the blonde, breaking free from Hiccup’s warm cuddle and climbing off the mattress. She pulled her toothbrush and a small bottle of conditioner from her bag. “I didn’t bring shampoo. Is it okay to steal some of yours?”

“Of course.”

“And if you also happen to have an extra razor so I can shave my legs, that would be great.”

“Clean razors are in the drawer under my sink. Just throw it out when you’re done.”

“Do you have shaving cream, too?”

“You’re just taking everything, aren’t you, Astrid?” he teased. Changing his tone, he added, “Yes, I have shaving cream. And towels are in my closet, before you ask.”

“Got it.” Astrid opened Hiccup’s closet and pulled a large, fluffy towel from the top shelf. “I’ll see you later, then.” With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Astrid loved taking showers at Hiccup’s place. The Haddocks owned one of the largest homes in the town, which meant that Hiccup was lucky enough to have a bedroom the perfect size for a queen bed and a walk-in closet, and a connected bathroom large enough for both a walk-in shower and a huge jacuzzi tub. Once her teeth were brushed and the warm heat lamps were turned on, Astrid dug around for Hiccup’s razors and shaving cream. Upon finding them, she walked to the shower before changing her mind and filling the bath instead. Finding bubbles that she’d left behind from a previous sleepover, she poured them into the warm water and laid her towel directly beneath the heat lamps so it would be toasty when she was finished. Lastly, she turned on the jacuzzi jets, stripped down, and with a sigh of contentment, sank into the bath.

After washing her hair, lathering up, and taking care of her shaving, Astrid hugged her knees to her chest and allowed her mind to wander as the still-warm bubbly water lapped at her neck.

“Astrid, are you almost done?” called Hiccup. “I really need to pee.”

The blonde snapped back to reality. “I’m in the bath, but it’s fine to come in.” Hiccup’s bathroom had a divider between the toilet and sink and the bathing area that could be pulled shut if needed. Not to mention, between the bubbles and her legs, she was decently concealed.

A few moments later, Astrid heard the door open, and Hiccup limped in on his crutches. “You okay? You look sad.” Hiccup frowned.

“I’m just thinking,” she said, resting her chin on her knees and combing the water with her fingers.

“About what?” Hiccup closed the divider.

“Just stuff.” She sighed. “My AP exam, my date on Friday, wondering if you’ll be okay when I go home tomorrow.”

“Of course I’ll be okay.” After he was decent, he opened the diver again. “Also, if you wanna talk about anything, you know where to find me. Or you can just keep hiding out in my bathtub.”

“I’m not hiding out. I’m soaking.” Astrid let out a contented sigh. “You know I like a good bath.”

“I don’t know how you do it. Baths take too long. I don’t get why my parents gave me the room with the big tub.”

“Because you live here. It doesn’t make sense to waste your bedroom as a guest suite.”

“Well, if this was a guest suite, it would be all yours. A big bed, a walk-in closet, a jacuzzi tub.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want it all to myself. I like sharing with you.” She played with the bubbles. “I mean, right now you’re kind of disturbing my bath,” she teased. “But most of the time…”

Hiccup grinned. “Alright. I’ll let you be. But I miss you in bed. I just finished a whole second episode of Vikings. And my mom brought up cookies.” He hobbled towards the door.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there in a few,” Astrid called after him. “Wait, Hiccup, can you hand me my towel? It’s on the counter under the heat lamp.”

“You’re gonna make your crippled friend get you your towel?” he laughed, turning around. After passing the towel to Astrid, he headed for the exit again.

“Best friend ever!” shouted the blonde.

“Yeah, yeah, just finish your bath.” He swung the door closed behind him and hobbled back to his bed.

Once he was gone, Astrid spent a few minutes convincing herself to get out of the bath before standing up and stepping out. After squeezing out her hair, she bundled up in her towel and shuffled into the bedroom. “I’m gonna shut your door,” she said, pushing Hiccup’s bedroom door closed to ensure privacy. As she pulled her hairbrush from her bag, a shiver ran down her spine. “Damn, it’s cold in here.” She sat on the edge of his bed and began brushing through her damp locks.

“You know I like my room a little chilly to sleep. Chilly with a lot of blankets.”

“Yeah, but cold, wet, and almost naked isn’t a fun combination.” She tugged her towel tighter around her.

“Nobody told you to come out here naked,” laughed Hiccup.

“My pajamas are in my bag,” she argued, still running the brush through her hair. Once all the knots were out, she braided it with chilly fingers and tied off the end with an elastic she had on her wrist.

“That’s your own fault.”

“Okay, when I’m sitting here freezing to death is not the time for jokes.” Shivering, she slid off the mattress, pulled a clean pair of underwear from her bag, and slipped it on under her towel before grabbing her pajama pants and stepping into Hiccup’s closet to find one of his hoodies.

“Hurry up and get some clothes on, then. And while you’re at it, can you pass me some sweats?”

Astrid tossed Hiccup a pair of sweatpants before pulling the closet door shut and quickly dressing. By the time she was finished, he was in his sweats.

“You are cold. You’re shaking.” Hiccup wrapped her in a tight hug as she crawled into bed.

“I’ll be toasty in a minute.” She snuggled against his chest. “Can you hand me a cookie?”

Hiccup handed Astrid a cookie from the plate beside his bed. “So, apart from parading around naked in my cold bedroom, did you enjoy your bath?”

“I was not parading around naked!” argued Astrid as she bit into her cookie. “I was in a towel.”

“Alright, fine. Almost naked.” He loosened his hold on her.

“Stop teasing,” she groaned, pulling the covers to her chin and closing her eyes. “Can you pass me my phone?”

Hiccup picked up Astrid’s phone and held it just out of reach from her.

“Hey!” scolded Astrid, pinning down his arm and prying the item from his hand as he playfully tried to push her off of him.

“Why don’t you ever let me win at a wrestling match?” Hiccup asked, wrapping her in a tight hug and nuzzling her hair.

Before she could reply, a knock sounded at the door.

“Yeah?” answered Hiccup.

“Ye know the rules, son. Ye got to keep yer door open when yer lass is over,” Stoick called. He twisted the knob. “I’m too young for grandbabies.”

“Dad,” groaned Hiccup. “We’re just friends.”

“If you insist.” Stoick moved over to Hiccup and ruffled his hair. “Well, goodnight, son. Yell if ye need anything. And remember—yer door stays open.”

“Goodnight, Dad.” Once Stoick left, Hiccup turned to Astrid. “My dad is convinced we’re a couple.”

“Why would he think that?”

Hiccup shrugged. “I don’t know. But he had the talk with me a few weeks ago. After I forgot to leave the door open that one night, apparently he came to the very wrong conclusion that we were doing stuff together.”

“So does he think we’re a couple, or does he think we’re fuck buddies?”

“He thinks we’re a couple because I’m always texting you and we got each other Valentine’s Day gifts this year. He thinks we’re having sex because my door was closed all night.” His cheeks reddened.

Astrid set an alarm on her phone and rested it beside her on the mattress. “To be fair, leaving your door closed all night when you know you’re supposed to keep it open is lowkey suspicious.”

“What? You’re siding with my dad?” Pretending to be angry, he turned his back to her.

“Sorry, Hiccup,” she laughed, spooning him from behind.

“Mmm-hmm, sure you’re sorry,” he teased.

“Love you.”

“Sure you do.”

“Love you,” Astrid said again, this time squeezing her friend in a tight hug.

“Fine,” sighed Hiccup. “Love you, too. Even if you side with my dad.”

[bunnyywritings]

dino to the rescue

Tsukishima Kei x gn!reader

[a/n: I am obsessed with dinosaurs and with salty boi Tsukki so....yeah😖 I made this on zero sleep at like 5am. Enjoy! Also, there is no doubt in my mind that Tsukki calls his s/o stupid nicknames like pumpkin and sweetheart when they’re alone together -yours truly, bunnyy-`ღ´- ps this gif is super pretty, not to simp on the main or anything but I busted the phattest uwu ]

It had been a rough week. Not that he’d like to admit it but, it really, really sucked. First he had actually gotten a pretty bad score on an exam that he studied so hard for, he had not been able to see you at all either. Going to separate schools had really taken its toll on the both of you. And his blocks during practice were certainly not at the level he had liked them to be. Akiteru and Yamaguchi had been the ones that had sent you a text on Friday night to ask you if you knew what was going on.

After learning that you also had no idea what was going on, Akiteru had sent you a brief overview of what had happened. Kei had gotten home and shut himself in his room, not even coming out to have dinner until all the dishes were cleaned and the leftovers were wrapped up.

So, you had taken it upon yourself to cheer up your boyfriend. It was the least you could do after he had done the same for you countless times. You woke up bright and early on Saturday morning. Donning your most comfortable clothing and sneakers, you head off to the store to pick up a few things before heading to the Tsukishima household.

You knocked a couple of times, before it opened and there stood Akiteru in his practice clothing.

“Oh! Hey (y/n)! Come in.” He let you in and pulled you into a hug, one that you happily returned before slipping off your shoes. “Mom is out running errands so she shouldn’t be back for a while and I’ve got morning practice.” He groaned, obviously disliking that he had to be active at 8am.

“Is Kei awake?” You asked as you peered down the hall and at his door.

“No.” He sighed. “He usually is but, I guess he’s been sulking or something.” He fished his phone from his pocket and looked at, eyes widening as he rushed to put on his shoes. “Now I’ve gotta go. No funny business okay? Keep it PG.” he flicked your forehead playfully.

“What about PG-13?”

“Don’t push it.” He chuckled before ultimately making his way out.

You made your way into the kitchen, placing the half-strawberry shortcake you had bought earlier. You wanted to make him some breakfast. Something simple. There was some left over rice in the rice cooker so you started to re-heat it. Making your way to the stove, you started to cook. Grilling some fish and vegetables and placing them over the steaming bowl of rice. You also made some hot green tea with a bit of ginger. You went ahead and served yourself a serving too since you had yet to eat that morning.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voiced Kei spoke up from some ways behind you. You turned to greet him but once seeing the state he was in, the ends of your mouth twitched downward. He was still barely waking up but the skin around his eyes was red with irritation and puffy. You knew that wasn’t from sleep. His hair was sticking up a bit and he was still in his sweat pants and a karasuno pullover. You could tell that he had been crying, his glasses obstructing your view made it hard to tell whether it was from last night or this morning.

“Surprise?” You were unsure on how to approach the situation, the statement just left your lips in a panic.

“What are you doing here?” He asked while making his way towards you, his hand scratching his belly.

“Well...honestly? Teru and Tadashi both messaged me and said that you were acting strange. Upset, really. So I wanted to do something.” You approached him, wrapping your arms loosely around his torso. “I know we haven’t seen each other at all this week, and I really missed you.” He gulped, knowing that the second he looked down into your puppy eyes, he’d confess everything. “I just wanted to come cheer you up! Since you always do it for me.” His resilience broke and he looked into your wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes glazed over and he tugged off his glassed and tossed them onto the table before wrapping his arms around you and stuffing his face into the side of your neck. Your hold got tighter when you realized his shoulders were shaking and his tears wet the collar of your t-shirt. Biting your bottom lip harshly, you willed yourself to keep your own tears at bay. Seeing him this vulnerable wasn’t new but it was the fact that he was hurting is what made you hurt too.

“What happened, Kei?” The way you spoke his name so tenderly didn’t help his tears subside.

“First, I failed my damn Chem test.”

“The one you almost killed yourself studying for?” He hummed against you as a confirmation, he didn’t seem like he was going to let up anytime soon.

“And my blocks were terrible every single day this week, while Hinata had absolutely no problem with anything.” You were aware of his inferiority complex with the orange-haired ball of energy that you met once. “I also lost my freaking headphones at school and I cracked my phone screen during practice...and-and I couldn’t even see you because you had your own club activities and-” he took a deep breath, still hugging you close to him. “Tch. Can you believe this? I probably sound like such a whiner.” He let go of you and turned away, wiping his tears furiously before taking another deep breath and turning to you.

“Kei, it’s okay to be upset when you’ve had a rough week. That’s normal.” He slipped his glasses on. “It’s just me and you here, you don’t need to act like Mr. cool guy. I already know you’re a big nerd. You can’t fool me anymore.” You grinned as that roused a chuckle from him.

“Thank you pumpkin, I really appreciate you coming over. I really missed you.” He leaned down and gave you a proper kiss before you both sat and enjoyed the breakfast that you made.

An hour or two later, you were both cuddling in his bed while devouring that half of a shortcake that you got. He picked a strawberry from the top of the cake, scooping up some cream and holding it up to your mouth. Blushing a fierce pink, you opened your mouth and closed your eyes but once you bit down there was the ‘click’ of your teeth and his chuckles but no strawberry.

“Tsukki!” You pouted, he snorted a laugh. “If you’re mean to me, I won’t give you the other thing I got you.” He’d would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. So he held the strawberry to your mouth, small smile growing on his lips as you took a bite, humming in delight at the sweetness.

“Good choice. I’ll be right back!” You had ran out of the room before zooming back in, hands held behind her back before you presented it to him. It was a small  bag. With a raised eyebrow, he took it and looked inside. He reached in and brought out the gift. “A watch?” He asked, brows pinched together.

“Kind of.” He watched as you reached into your pocket and showed him one that was identical to the one in the box. “I know it’s super cheesy but when you tap your watch, mine will vibrate and vice versa.” As you explained he slipped on the already charged watched and tapped it. You gasped in surprise when the watch gave a little ‘hum.’

Tsukishima read the back of the box. one tap= i’m thinking about you, two taps= thank you, and lastly, three taps= i love you. His heart swelled with happiness, not that his face showed it much.

“I know it’s not your thing but-” He cut you off, tapping the watch twice and gauging your reaction. As long as it made you happy, he’d keep it

Whispered sweet nothings, soft cuddles, and tender kisses were shared before you went back home. Quickly grabbing your laptop and searching for the exact same headphones that Kei had lost plus a little something else. You ended up using all your allowance money to get that and the next day shipping but it was worth it. You triple checked to make sure you put down his address before confirming the order.

The next day, you got an email saying that the package was delivered. So you waited. What you hadn’t expected was for your watch to buzz twice before your phone rang. Answering the facetime call, you grinned. Seeing him with the headphones over his head but an un-amused expression on his face made it hard to hold in laughter.

“(Y/n) what is this?” He held up a little teal triceratops plushie.

“His name is dino, he’s going to be there to save you when you have a bad day and I can’t hug you.” His eyes widened and a blush spread on his cheeks.

“Oh...right.” You almost fell off of your bed in sheer happiness as he casually hugged it to his chest.

“Thank you, (y/n). Really. You made my crap week better.” There was a pause when your wrist buzzed three times.

“I love you too, kei.”

“What’s the point of the watch then? If you’re still saying stuff like that out loud.” But he definitely didn’t mind.

He loved you with the entirety of his string bean head-ass. And you loved him too.

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 6.5

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 1,500~  Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: depression, physical and emotional abuse, implied past sexual abuse/exploitation, violence

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: This chapter is an additional section written from Yoongi’s POV. It contains quite a bit of triggering content (I kept it as PG as possible.) If this stuff is gonna upset you then PLEASE just skip this. You won’t miss any huge story points and I totally get it.

Yoongi didn’t really know where he was going when he ran out of the apartment, he just knew he couldn’t be there. Suddenly every inch of your shared home hurt to look at; the memory of every kind word or affectionate look had a gloomy cast over it. The realizations hit him like bullets to the chest. Every time you’d shared something with him had simply been charity. Every sweet bit of praise you’d given was an act of pity. Every time he touched you, you’d been uncomfortable. 

How could he have been so stupid? He felt humiliated and ridiculous for reading too much into the situation. How could you ever want someone like him? He was just someone’s throw-away. Pathetic. Broken. Dirty. Worthless. The words played on repeat in his head and with each loop he sank further into himself, into the pit of self-loathing you’d barely managed to pull him out of. How could he ever face you again like this?

He sat on a bench and pulled out his phone. There were 12 missed calls and 19 messages from you already, and as he looked Jimin called. He set his phone face down on the bench next to him, leaned his head back, and looked up at the sky. How could he feel so awful on such a beautiful day? Just another reminder that the world didn’t care about him; no one did, really. And why would they?

“Kitty?” A man’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, the familiar voice making his blood run cold. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Yoongi lifted his head to find Kwon Hyunjoong standing before him. His voice dripped with honey, but Yoongi knew all too well the venom that lay just beneath the surface. He didn’t say anything, just dropped his eyes to the feet of the man before him.

“Nothing to say? You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, kitty. Your clients miss you. And me, I’ve been lost without my favorite toy.” Hyunjoong stepped forward and placed a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. Far from a friendly gesture, his fingers dug into Yoongi’s flesh so hard that if he didn’t have the protection of his jacket Hyunjoon’s nails would’ve broken the skin. Yoongi winced, but didn’t dare pull away.

“Did your latest whore get bored already? Women can be so fickle with their pets, you know.”

“She isn’t-” Yoongi started to protest but stopped himself when the hand gripping his shoulder moved to his neck, grabbing a handful of hair in the process.

“Look what she’s done to you,” Hyunjoong said, observing Yoongi’s hair. “I told you to keep your hair dark. Dying it like this is so… tacky.” He gestured with the hand full of hair, tugging it painfully. “But I guess you were always cheap by nature, huh?”

Yoongi’s muscles practically vibrated with the instinct to flee, but years of conditioning told him things would only be worse if he tried. 

“I guess it’s time for you to come home, kitty. She doesn’t want you anymore. But I’m sure I can find some use for you.” Hyunjoong gripped the back of Yoongi’s collar and pulled him to his feet, dragging him toward the open car door. A voice in Yoongi’s head—a voice that sounded very much like you—screamed at him to run. But his whole body felt numb, as if he was watching this whole situation on a TV screen. So he didn’t fight. He didn’t fight when Hyunjoong pushed him into the back seat of the black sedan, or when Hyunjoong climbed in behind him. And he didn’t try to escape when the man behind the wheel drove away.

The Eclipse Club was on the south side of town, in a seedy area known by most for its bustling night-life. Those familiar with the area knew what really happened there. The neighborhood was a den of hybrid trafficking and exploitation. From the escort services, to the strip clubs, to the fight rings and illegal auctions, the hybrids that ended up there were at the end of the line. Few hybrids ever truly escaped the life the south side created for them. 

As they pulled up under the familiar neon sign of the club, Yoongi doubted he’d ever leave again. He’d lucked his way into freedom and safety once, and it was unlikely he’d get another chance. The two men in the front of the car led him down the alley and to the side entrance, Hyunjoong followed at a leisurely pace. They shoved him through the door and Yoongi caught the twisted, almost childlike delight in Hyunjoong’s eyes as he planned what was to come. Even before they crossed the threshold Yoongi knew where they were headed. They wove between wait staff, bartenders, and hybrid dancers in their signature barely-there uniforms. Several familiar faces looked at him with wide eyes, recognizing him. 

“Su-” a girl with rounded black ears barely stopped herself from calling out his name, or at least the name the club had given him. All his friends' eyes were full of pity even as they tried to avert their gaze. Finally, they arrived at a heavy metal door. Hyunjoong stepped forward, unlocking it to reveal a set of concrete stairs. He gestured for Yoongi and the guards to enter first. Yoongi’s feet refused to move, so the guards ended up half dragging, half carrying him down the steps. 

At the bottom Hyunjoong unlocked another door, and stepped into a large, nearly empty, room. The walls were made of cinder block, bare fluorescent bulbs illuminated the space, and the concrete floor had drains in it so the room could be cleaned with the hose coiled in the far corner. Yoongi trembled as they pulled him to the center of the room. Hyunjoong gave the guards a nod, looking vaguely amused. They tugged at his jacket and Yoongi cooperated, knowing they’d just tear the garments away by force if he didn’t. His stomach lurched in revulsion as Hyunjoong watched. The chill of the room sank through to his bones as he stood in his boxers. There were chains bolted at various increments around the floor and one of the men shackled his ankle with them. The guards stepped away as Hyunjoong approached.

“Kitty, you’ve really let yourself go,” the man purred, running an appraising hand over Yoongi’s stomach. In his time with you he’d managed to gain back a decent amount of the weight he lacked. His ribs no longer showed so starkly through his skin, and he even had a little bit of extra fat over his tummy. Hyunjoong pinched at the flesh and tutted disapprovingly. One of the guards circled to Yoongi’s back and as Hyunjoong nodded at the guard Yoongi braced himself for the blow. The lash bit into his skin and tore at the scar tissue he’d built over years of abuse.

“Look how fat you’ve gotten. Did she like that? Really, kitty? Did she want a kitty or a pig?” Hyunjoong prodded at Yoongi’s stomach again before throwing a punch that knocked the wind out of him and brought him to his knees. Another nod, another blow. He already felt drops of blood springing from the lines the lash carved in his back and thighs. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you, kitty? You have to stay pretty for me so I can play nice. You know I can play nice when you earn it.” Hyunjoong cooed softly, as if he was offering some great mercy, not just another form of torture. The man raised a hand and the guard continued, delivering strike after strike until Yoongi was curled on the ground, breaths coming so painfully he heaved.

Hyunjoong crouched in front of him, grabbing his chin and yanking it up so their faces were less than an inch apart. “Why’d you do this to yourself? If you’d just been a good boy we wouldn’t be here. You know I don’t enjoy this any more than you do.” Even as he said it a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He looked Yoongi’s face over appraisingly, then glanced at the long scars and fresh wounds marring the pale skin of his back. 

“You really are so pretty, kitty. I’ll enjoy having you back. That is of course, if you’re going to be good. You will be good now, won’t you, kitty?” Yoongi averted his eyes even as Hyunjoong’s hand forced him to remain face-to-face with him. Hyunjoong’s grip tightened when Yoongi didn’t respond. “You’ll be good, right?” His breath reeked of cigarette smoke and traces of alcohol and Yoongi nearly gagged. But he held it back and instead nodded obediently.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” Hyunjoong said with a laugh. He ran a hand through Yoongi’s hair as he stood, only to give it a vicious yank that knocked Yoongi back on his heels.

“Twenty more, then bring him to my office. We have some catching up to do,” he said, already walking away. Yoongi held his breath for the next couple of strokes until the soundproof door closed behind Hyunjoong. Only then did he allow himself to scream.

[chipsfics]

Part 1 - Introduction/Invitation

Part one of my currently-unnamed Inanimate Insanity fanfiction :)! Feat. Tissues and Yinyang. Some shipping but not a whole lot ;)

Rated: PG (A few heavy themes)

Hope you enjoy and much more to come !! :D

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Unlike Tissues, Yinyang knew he was going to be eliminated. Yin did, at least. He figured after a certain amount of time, the viewers just saw him as... Annoying. He had used up his entertainment value- Inanimate Insanity had packaged and squeezed dry his "quirks" of any and all comedy until they were just problems again. He was sure his other half knew elimination was at least a possibility- He was probably too preoccupied with his own thoughts, which sometimes blended together with Yin's. A lot of... "Everyone here hates me," and "I hate everyone here." Seemed like the situation was stressing them both out.

Weeks later, After they were all freed from the closet, Yinyang watched the episode where he was eliminated. Yinyang cried, not because he lost, but something kind of got tangled in his brain watching the way he acted. He was grinding his teeth watching the playback, Yang holding back tears and Yin letting them flow freely. If only, if only, if only. Needless to say, he didn't really remember a lot about what happened cooped up in that tiny closet. He mostly hid in the corner and tried not to grind his teeth down to his gums. Tissues, on the other hand, barely knew what was going on. One place to another, off a plane, rushing from iceberg to dodgeball court, grass field to bleachers- Next thing he knew he sneezed himself through a portal and ended up cooped up in a closet. Once the dizzy feeling cleared and he ended up face down, alone, in an empty closet with a locked door- One thing was abundantly clear: He lost. As usual. When another contestant stepped through the portal, the relief he felt was overwhelming- and as the closet filled up with eliminated contestants, the sense of relief he felt was replaced by self loathing and shame- Everyone else pretty much all hated him. As usual.

When they finally got a breath of fresh air, space to move around, personal rooms and even a breakfast juice bar- After everyone who came in contact with him was thoroughly sprayed down by Soap, nobody hated him anymore. They just didn't talk to him. Although, when he walked in the hallway, Soap would follow a safe distance behind him and clean where he last stepped with disinfectant. That didn't really help his self-esteem.

One quiet afternoon, everyone was still trying to settle into their new (but much nicer) living situations, Tissues got paired with the roommate who hated him the most. One Trophy horseplay, who was the one who stomped his face in more than a couple times while stuck in the closet. Of course, due to the technological advancements of melife, Mephone brought him back immediately after he got the death notification- bzz-ding, Tissues died again, to Trophy's frustration. Living with Trophy, he tried to keep all of his stuff in one corner- And he was kind of being shoved over by Trophy's ever-growing collection of sports equipment. Apparently he had nowhere to put it except for cluttering up their shared bedroom. He didn't have much things anyway- and he spent most of his time in the front game room. Tissues, Yinyang, and a few wanderers in and out every day in that same room, that same dinky game system, the same 4 outdated platforming games. He didn't remember the names of those old things, and he wasn't great at them anyway- It'd surprise you, but he didn't have the best hand-eye-coordination. 

Yinyang was also bad at them. He'd argue and curse and throw the controller and tug at the wires, Tissues would follow slowly behind him in co-op play. It was fun to play with someone who had the same skill level as he did, and it seemed like Yinyang had mellowed out a little from his appearance on the show- Having a bit more freedom and alone time seemed to make Yang calm down and Yin become cheerier and more friendly. If Tissues could say one Inanimate Insanity contestant was his friend- It was Yinyang. They had something big and terrifying in common- They were both freaks. The unlovable tend to find a way to love each other.

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Yaaaawn. Tissues stretched and looked at the clock- 11:30, about 3 hours earlier than when he usually woke up. He wiped the drool off his face, got up and feverishly brushed his teeth. He realized the breakfast bar was still open for another 30 minutes- More like 25 now that he'd dragged himself out of bed. OJ wasn't the world's most attentive hotel owner, but the breakfast bar seemed like something he was passionate about. There were rumors that he refilled the cereal dispensers by himself and doesn't let anyone else do it. Soap always threw a fit when someone else did the chores for her, although she seemed to have a quiet respect for OJ's breakfast bar. Tissues took the elevator down- He didn't trust himself to go down the stairs because of his vertigo. Lo and behold, someone else bumped into his hand reaching for the down arrow. It was Yinyang! 

"O-oh, go ahead, you first," Tissues said bashfully. 

"No, you first!" Yin chirped. "I assume we're both going down?" 

"Yeah, I'm gonna try and catch the last wave of breakfast, guyse. I'm not usually up this... SNIFF. Early," Tissues said, and jammed his finger into the down button, which started to glow a faint yellow.

"Wait, is the free breakfast thing still open?" Yinyang said, "The one where you can make waffles with the little do-it-yourself waffle iron?" 

"Is that what that is? I thought it was just a weird smoothie dispenser. I thought the stuff that came out of it tasted like waffle batter," He sniffed.

Yinyang laughed. Tissues would have been peeved, but it didn't seem like Yinyang was laughing AT him. That, or just the fact that his laugh was crisp and clear as a ringing bell. Tissues didn't think he heard him genuinely laugh a whole ton of times. It was nice. 

As they waited for the elevator to come up, Tissues noticed one of Yinyang's eyes blinking and drooping. Yang's side seemed to be sleepier than Yin's- His body lagging to one side until he had to jerk back into a standing position. Was it possible for one half to fall asleep and the other half to stay awake? DING. Tissues' train of thoughts was interrupted by the elevator door sliding open. They stepped in, and for the entire ride down Tissues fought as hard as he could not to sneeze- In a closed place like an elevator, that could be very annoying. More annoying than usual. The elevator ride was mostly silent and awkward- It seemed that Yang almost tried to fight on what button to press, but he was too tired and hungry to cause any trouble this early. It was a Saturday after all, the slowest days in the hotel, and once they made it downstairs to the breakfast bar, there didn't seem to be many contestants looking for something to eat so late. Tissues grabbed a paper plate and put a blueberry muffin on it, and got a small paper cup of orange juice. He noticed Yin and Yang were having some sort of quiet argument about what to get for a drink. Tissues couldn't help but overhear-

"Coffee." Yang spoke in a harsh whisper. "Not today, Water." Yin replied. "Coffee." "Juice, then." "Ok, Fine." "Apple juice." "I want orange." "Not today. Apple Juice feels more..." "Pure?" "Yeah." "Bull." "Let's just get our food, I'm too tired to argue." "..." "..." "Me too." 

Tissues seemed distracted, until Yinyang moved down the line and bumped him further down. He looked away, face flushed, and moved to the couch, flicking on the TV- He felt like he had just intruded on Yinyang's privacy, but Yinyang didn't seem to care. He'd grabbed apple juice and a pastry of some kind, filled with cream cheese. Yinyang and Tissues ate together, Tissues sitting on the carpet and Yinyang on the couch close by, both staring at the gameshow program that was playing on TV- something that aired often, it was starting to get old. That and the fact that the episodes are hard to tell apart. Same host every time, same backdrop, same formula. Because of this, Tissues' mind couldn't help but wander, and so did his eyes. Yinyang was focused intently on the tv, one hand, Yin's, tapping the sides of the paper cup and the other, Yang's, lifting the pastry to his mouth and taking a bite. They seemed to have figured out a good way to eat without arguing. 

"So," Tissues said, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" Yin said politely. 

"Can i sit next to you guyse?" Tissues asked. Yinyang looked a bit puzzled.

"Sure. Why not?" Yinyang said, "Just try not to get any of your germs on me." Yang grumbled. Yin pinched his arm. "Don't be rude," Yang growled, but once Tissues got up and hopped up onto the couch cushion next to him, Yang seemed to have forgotten about it. Tissues was so short he had to put in a lot of effort to get onto the couch- It was almost comical. Because of that, he preferred to sit on the ground. People seemed to prefer him down there anyway. It was kind of nice, up there, though, and honestly the only thing he felt different was... More comfortable, and taller. It was nice. He hadn't even noticed the TV program changing from the game show to an ad break- some kind of infomercial on chairs. 

"Sooo.... Do you want to go and check out the pool today? I've heard that there's like, complimentary towels. I haven't actually been there yet," Tissues said.

"Are you... asking us to hang out with you?" Yinyang said curiously. 

"Well sure," Tissues smiled. "We're friends, right?"

"Umm..." Yinyang's face flushed a bright red. "Of course!" Yin chimed. 

"Whatever." Yang added, clenching his jaw and slightly baring his sharp teeth.

"I just didn't wanna show up alone. Can you swim?" He asked. Yinyang looked away.

"Not really," He said, embarrassed. "It takes a lot of coordination, and Yin hates listening." Yang said aggresively. Yin glared at his other half. 

"Ohhh thats cool. I can't either," Tissues replied. "I was just planning on sitting by the side. Maybe putting my feet in- Its just nice to have like... uhh. SNIFF. Change of scenery... I like the chlorine smell." 

"Well that sounds nice!" Yinyang said. "But we need to go back to our room first, Right?" Yang sounded like he was directing the question less towards Tissues and more towards Yin. 

"Oh. Well that's ok. I'm here all day," Tissues said, pulling his mouth into a goofy half-smile. Yinyang finished off his apple juice and got up, silently turned and smiled towards Tissues, and walked away. Tissues wondered what he was thinking about. 

~~~~