#and so dumb but I didn’t realize I would be able to transfer all my ps4 games to it seamlessly (again by this I mean in the 100+ hours

[bpfandomcollective]

On a whim today I bought a ps5 just so I don’t have to wait a second longer to play Horizon: Burning Shores.

[ch3rryfunk]

Do you perchance have any headcanons for Luis? No one writes for him, and as much as I love Leon, I love my sassy ladies man Luis even more 😭❤️

i LOVE you for requesting this. Hell yes, I love my sassy man so so much.

Crushing on Luis Sera headcannons

☆*:.｡.

★ First things first, let’s elaborate on the type of man he is. He’s a romantic one, that’s for sure. He loves flirty one-liners and sappy quotes.

★ Being flirty and a self-proclaimed “ladies’ man” doesn’t mean he won’t be loyal, he is MORE than loyal if that’s possible. He’s the definition of a true gentleman.

★ Luis is well-experienced, he’s been in a few relationships, but most of them ended badly. Mainly because of his involvement with Umbrella and lack of quality time. His job consumed his life.

★ That being said:

★ You met when you got assigned to his team, both of you were researching the same parasite, so you had to transfer to his laboratory.

★ Anyway, as soon as he saw you, he internally fell to his knees.

★ He wasn’t going to tell you that, though. #proudman

★ Luis had never met someone who matched his energy so well, who ACTUALLY flirted back and cracked jokes at inappropriate times. He was so fond of you.

★ “So, you come here often?” He asked with a dumb smirk.

★ “Oh yeah, all the time. I just LOVE operating on disgusting parasites. Y’know what? I think I was born to do this. Right here, at your laboratory. It’s heaven.”

★ “Can’t help it, cariño. I’m one good lookin’ angel. So are you though, so are you.”

★ He loved your dry humor and your ability to sound so deadpan while cracking the most hilarious jokes.

★ You loved spending time with him, especially when you weren’t researching plagues and stuff you thought was gross. He was actually fascinating.

★ You were intrigued at first, but then you were full-on crushing on him.

★ You weren’t going to tell him that, though.

★ But yes, the more you got to know him, the closer you wanted to be. You started taking note of his likes and dislikes.

★ He liked smoking. Loved, even. And being the clingiest man you had ever met.

★ He disliked getting told to shut up and getting called “doctor”. He wasn’t a doctor, but a biologist. Yet, you liked annoying him with that title.

★ The moment he realized he was in love was when both of you went on a coffee break, and you pulled out a cigarette. It surprised him, he swore you didn’t smoke.

★ “Ay, you smoke too?”

★ “Nah, bought them just for you, Dr. Sera.”

★ The fact that you carried cigarettes for him (because he always managed to forget or lose his) almost sent him into oblivion. He felt like he was going to cry his heart out and fall to his knees once again.

★ Since you gave him cigarettes (all the time) he wanted to do something for you too, and you just happened to love books. So, he was committed to finding out what your favorite book was.

★ It was Don Quixote.

★ Oh god, was it life-changing for him. He had read the book before, being one of his favorites since it reminded him of his childhood. He decided to re-read it just for you. He wanted to be able to talk about all sorts of stuff, especially stuff you liked.

★ But maybe it got a little out of hand because he would NOT stop referencing the book every chance he got. You found it rather funny. And they say romance is dead.

★ Luis did numerous things to get your attention, he was a master at multitasking. He had you on his mind even when he was busy working with plagas. Which wasn’t very pleasant actually.

★ The closer you both became, the flirtier you both got. You started calling him handsome, and he called you “Mi amor”

★ It was a mutual inside joke at this point, but both of you wanted it to be very much real and not just some jest.

★ One time, you called him handsome too many times in a day. He couldn’t stop smiling.

★ “Keep calling me handsome, and I’ll start believing you got a little crush on me.” He said.

★ “Yeah, well, keep calling me mi amor and I might just kiss you.” You replied.

★ That caught him off guard but it shut him up, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it, maybe if he thought about it long enough you’d read his mind and kiss him. After all, Luis was head over heels for you, as you were for him.

★ As your research came to an end, Luis knew he was losing time. He needed to ask you out or at least tell you how he felt, but he was never really the best at confessing his feelings, even in past relationships. He’d never felt this way about someone, you were so different, it had to be different with you. He desperately needed to be with you.

★ “Guess this is where we part ways, handsome.” You told him when you finished packing your stuff, you were being transferred back to your laboratory soon.

★ “Don’t go, corazón. Let’s uh, let’s elope.” He joked, earning a sweet laugh from you. He would sure miss your laugh. “We make a good team.”

★ Everything he said made your heart skip a beat. You wished you could’ve stayed longer, but your boss was too demanding. Not only that, but Luis didn’t want you to go. He felt so happy when you were around, and he wished he had met you earlier.

★ But in the end, he swallowed his pride and asked you out right there. Now or never was his motto, he needed to be true to himself for once. “Know what cariño? I’ve been thinking and maybe we should-”

★ “Yes cariño, I’ll go on a date with you. But first I need to turn this in. See you later, guapo.” He was flabbergasted, took him a few minutes to process what had just happened. It was safe to say he left his laboratory with the biggest smile ever and more swooned than he already was.

☆*:.｡.

sorry i took so long omg anyway hope u like it!! I love him sooo much im gonna start writing more luis content 😭 i also hope more people start writing for him!! Pls!!

[rotating-hyperfixations]

Not to bring up politics on my fandom blog, but I gotta let out somewhere so I’m yelling into the void on tumblr so bear with me.

I truly think the U.S needs to go back to teaching civics in schools at a higher level then they currently are; because the amount of people who seemingly can’t grasp how elections and general politics run is astounding. Like, I totally get being frustrated with the state of American politics and the amount of corruption and private equity in what’s supposed be a public entity, but yall are really starting to test my patience when it comes to election season. Because yall are being dumb with this whole “don’t vote for Biden”/vote third period campaign you’re trying to put out there.

Unfortunately America is a two party system and a lot of people fall somewhere within the political spectrum. And generally throughout history, even if you didn’t agree with a candidate you vote for the one that more aligns with your values in the hopes that you can get them to change their opinion on important matters through congress and the senate (aka state reps). However in the last three election cycles a lot of people have become one policy voters (meaning one issue makes or breaks who they’ll vote for) and now we’re on the brink of rolling back a centuries worth of progress because a bunch of far right christofacists were able to come into power by people not voting. And rather then recognize that we are legitimately headed down a very dangerous path if Trump gets elected for a second term; people have just decided to not vote or mobilize a third party candidate. Both of which unfortunately just leads to a Trump victory because republicans are far more likely to vote as a party than democrats.

While think that at some point a real effort has to be made to try and get some more younger and progressive politicians in power, the year on election is not the time to start. and that is simply because America at this point it not capable of coming to together to recognize anyone who is not a democrat or a republican and it’s not a change you can implement at the national level immediately. For these changes to occur people need to start showing up at non Presidential elections and voting progressive and third party candidates locally, so it gets on the radar and they start to take it seriously and adopt that ideology within their own parties. However, yelling on the internet that you’re not going to vote with seemingly no alternative plan isn’t going to do anything. Not to mention no politician is ever going to cater to every base within a party, it’s simply not feasible. I’m sure that there are moderates who disagree with certain aspects of Bidens politics, but they understand that Biden is a far better alternative to Trump.

And ultimately that’s what all of this boils down to, the Trump of it all. If Biden was facing back Republicans of old like Mitt Romney or John McCain, I’d say sure not voting and making a statement on the democrats not accurately representing your beliefs will make you not vote for them would be ok. Unfortunately a second term of Trump is going to have far more reaching implications than I think people realize, and don’t realize how serious it is. Out side of the fact that Trump has basically already demonstrated that if he can, he won’t peacefully transfer power to whoever succeeds him. But he will roll back a ton of civil liberties and probably do irreparable damage to certain parts of the country and branches of government. Like do you really want to get an even more conservative Supreme Court or for things like abortion bans to become national law. And I know that people think that’s fear mongering or that they don’t care about the damage it does to their community, which is fine and all I suppose. But there are a ton of kids who are powerless in this matter who don’t get a say, who may not feel the same way and saying “you don’t care” even as a minority group is still an insanely privilege take and a very short term thinking.

And finally, if you’re not voting for Biden because of his handling of the Hamas Israel war, allowing Trump into office is not going to help anyone over there. Because Trump and republicans have already stated that they are pretty much on the side of Israel and are going to probably aid them even in more in bombing the shit out of Gaza. So if that’s the hill your will to die on, don’t dilute yourself into thinking that not voting for Biden will do anything to help anyone or desecrate the situation because Trump will make it far worse and then America will be complicit and all the activism in the world won’t help.

[rantbunyey]

A little bit of a rocky week. Emotionally and mentally exhausted. It’s tough dealing with depression, but that’s not really news to anyone. I do have people who look out for me, I know this, but it doesn’t keep me from feeling alone.

The last thing I want to do is come off as a lonely person who clings on to others just because I’m lonely. That’s honestly far from the case. People who know me know that I wear my heart on a sleeve, and bare my soul even when I shouldn’t.

There’s often a lot of frustration for me. I feel like I spend a lot of time looking after other people, but I can count on one hand the number of times a month someone actually asks me how I’m doing, beyond as a simple greeting. Truth is, I’m not okay most of the time, but people rarely want to hear that either. Sometimes I just need a hug, but those are far and in between. I just feel so lost and empty sometimes. I don’t expect any one person to fix that, but I do think that having people I care about tends to help me focus my goals and find purpose.

I’m suddenly thinking back to an old teacher of mine who took his own life. I know he was lonely and didn’t have people to care, but I recall talking into the void to him. I wished him the best in the next life, and told myself that I could never do that to the people in my life. A few years ago, a good friend also took their own life. That was so difficult, and I didn’t know how to process it. I just felt empty. Another of my close friends told me that they felt alone in it, because I didn’t seem to care the same. It hurt me a lot, because people in my life are my sole motivation some days. I just… don’t process grief the same ways as others I suppose. It’s beyond just being sad. I was so drained that I couldn’t express sadness, anger, anything. But to others it looked like I didn’t care, at least not until I could cry again. That other close friend of mine is now also consumed with depression over various things. They’ve talked about not wanting to be alive anymore, and it hurt me so much more than I was able to express. I know the chance of them doing something dumb is low, but I can’t help but worry. If I lost this friend, I don’t know how I would carry on. This is one of the most important people in my life and the thought of being without them scares me.

I know that humans adapt. If I lost everything today, could I survive? Sure. But I’d continue being empty. Even more empty. It scares me.

I’ve been meeting with a therapist every few weeks to talk things through. I don’t know if it’s helping. I just rant a bit like I do here, then my time is up. I do like that therapist though. I was just finally getting comfortable with her but…

She’s transferring me to someone else. She’s going on leave, and says that if things don’t work out with the new therapist she can take me back when she returns. Still, it’s set up as a permanent move. I know it’s not meant to be personal, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit abandoned. I have major abandonment issues, I’ve come to realize. Which is almost funny, because well…

제가 좋아하는 여자가 있습니다. I’ve talked about her, but I also know that she… has some commitment issues. Perfect match, ammirite?

I’m bouncing back and forth. Some days I am prepared for the worst. Other days I’m optimistic. Other days, I just… don’t have the ability to process or look forward to anything. I’m looking forward to seeing her. I intend to tell her how I feel, even if it’s casually letting her know. As I said before, I don’t think there’s any way that she doesn’t know already, but I’ve never actually told her. I know I need to be ready to get turned down. In fact, I expect it even if the feelings are mutual. I just… don’t know what to do after that. It leaves me wondering if I just shouldn’t say anything at all, but I know myself. If I don’t say anything, I’ll regret it and it will absolutely consume me. So it may hurt if I get turned down, but… it’s better to know I suppose. I feel like I’m too old for this. Too old to have someone make me feel this happy, and to worry that I’ll be heartbroken the next moment. I know that I tend to fall for people who are almost out of reach, but I’m stubborn. I like her so much, and I don’t find myself being remotely interested in anyone else in comparison. So this could absolutely break me.

But I already feel broken a lot of the time. People say I’m not broken, just need to work on a few things. I’m losing sight of what that means though. Life is hard. I know others have certain things worse, but I almost forget what it’s like to be happy sometimes. I know people don’t care as much as I do sometimes because they’re not insane lol, but I give it my all when it comes to emotions. I need to protect myself, I know. But… I dunno. I’m excited to see her. But I’m scared. But I have to do this.

[celamoon]

are requests open? because imagine saiki with a dumb childhood friend (to lovers? 👀) who's just a little too naive. she's caught him using his powers before and just went oh, and he's pretty sure her brain didn't even process what he was doing. and she attracts so many boys but she's just clueless so now saiki has to shoo them away from her <3

Anon your brain is astronomically huge I’m in love with this concept.

To clear things up though I do take requests (suggestions) but I won’t always write them since some make me go bRR and others don't really speak to me so it depends on what it is. (also because I'm not technically a writing blog pfft)

You wrote the reader as a she so I’m going to use female pronouns for this one. I hope I did your request justice!

Warnings: none, just fluff

Saiki was absolutely terrified when you first walked in on him using his powers in second grade. I mean it wasn’t like Akechi didn’t figure it out, but you straight up walked in on Saiki while he blew the classroom to pieces. He was about to erase your memory of the incident before you had tilted your head cutely with a pout. 

“Did someone break in?” You rushed off to grab the first aid kit to try and help the others.

Kusuo read your thoughts to see if you suspected that he was a psychic and the only thing he got from your thoughts were 'oh, I guess Akechi was right in some way'

Saiki had watched you put a bandaid on the wounds and secretly helped you heal the others. No one believed you when you said the classroom was blown up the next day, I mean it was like someone reversed time on it! Nothing was scattered or anything else of the sort!

Saiki also transferred away that time. You were kinda sad, you wanted to befriend the kid who was standing in the middle of the room after the supposedly ‘break in’.  You were pleased when you moved shortly after with your parent’s job. So you ended up at Saiki’s school again.

That was a while ago though, both of you have grown by now. You had followed Saiki around each time he moved, you were convinced that was the universe telling you to become best friends with him. (It wasn’t, you’d later on find out that Saiki had used mind control so you could follow each school he went to).

“Kuu!” Saiki looks away from the passing car and nods at you. 

Both of you were in your second year of high school now. Saiki hadn’t changed much other than the glasses and growth spurt. You on the other hand? You had grown impressively. You were prettier, taller, and for some odd reason the universe blessed you with an ideal body. This meant trouble.

“Did you wait long?” You close the gate to your place as Saiki shook his head.

‘Same as always,’

“Ah, alright then,” You hum. “Anything new happen?”

‘I literally saw you less than ten hours ago Y/n.’

“So? Lots of things can happen in ten hours! For all we know you could’ve travelled to Kyoto and back!” You grinned. Saiki glared your way before continuing to walk.

“You’re so boring now Kuu-chan,” You grumble. Saiki chooses to ignore your words as he watches Nendou and the others join the two of you. Soon enough, you guys are at school.

“Ah, another letter,” You slip out your shoes to change into and set the letter into your bookbag. You head over to your desk and pull it out from the bag.

“Who is it from this time?” Kaidou looks at the letter on the desk and you hum.

“I think… ah it says someone wants to meet up with me on the rooftop,” you read.

‘Good grief, I thought you made it clear that you weren’t interested last time’ Saiki peers over your shoulder, caging you in, and you jump slightly.

“I mean it wouldn’t hurt actually going…”

“Y/n’s getting a boyfriend?” Yumehara joins your group at the shoe lockers and you shake your head.

“Someone wrote me a letter saying they want to meet up,” You show her the letter and the girl inwardly sighs. ‘How come Y/n-chan was able to pull people so easily and I couldn’t even find a good boy to date!’

‘That’s because you’re too obsessive’ Saiki reminds inwardly.

“You’re going?”

“Don’t worry! I, the jet black wings, can accompany you to meet up with whoever this is!” Kaidou offers.

“I’ll come with Nendou if you don’t want anything creepy to happen,” Kuboyasu smiles.

“A-ah it’s alright! I’ll just bring Kuu with me,” You smile.

“You sure?” 

“Mhm!” You grin. “I’ll be fine with Kuu,”

Speaking honestly, you’re quite nervous. You had gotten letters before, but none of them actually asked you to meet up. Most of them could be read, and then Saiki would offer you to toss them out in some way. Your favourite was when he used his pyrokinesis to burn it in his hand, he was always helping you reject people.

“Offu,”

“Good morning Teruhashi offu!” 

“Good morning everyone!” Teruhashi smiles, flowers bloomed in the room because of that.

“Good morning Teruhashi-san!” You grinned as she walked over. 

“Good morning Y/n-chan! Oh is that a letter?” Teruhashi notices the envelope in your hands. ‘Why did she get a letter? Is she being confessed to? Ugh! No calm down Teruhashi, you’re a pretty perfect girl. You don’t need to be jealous, it’s just one letter’

“Yeah… It tells me to meet up with them at the roof,” You mumble. “Teruhashi-san how do you turn people down?”

“A-ah?”

“You’re always being confessed to right? How do you do it?” Your eyes glimmer and Saiki grimaces. Out of all the people you admire, you decide to admire Teruhashi. It wasn’t like she was rude, but it was more like she was fake.

“A-ah well…” Teruhashi panics inwardly as she looks for an answer. ‘I mean none of these high school boys can match up to me. Sure Saiki-san makes me feel different but seriously he doesn’t even have an income of 40 million yen… what do I tell her?!’

“It’s ok if you’re not too sure either Teruhashi-san,” You smile. “Sometimes we reject people so naturally that we don’t even realize it,”

“A-ah yea… sorry it’s just I don’t get confessed to that much…”

“Ah right!” You grin. “You’re better than everyone here so it would make sense that no one dares to approach you!”

“H-hUH? That’s not true!” Teruhashi flushes red at your compliment and you smile.

The rest of the school day passes as usual, and soon the final bell rings. You pack your bags and wander to the roof to meet up with the supposed secret admirer. Saiki walks beside you, ready to kill someone if you asked. 

“Uh you can stay here, I’ll call you if he tries anything,” You open the door to the roof and Saiki is forced to use clairvoyance on you.

“H-Hi! Y/n-san, uh I’m Hito-kun from class 2… will you go out with me?” The boy bows and you’re thrown off guard.

“Ah, Hito-kun there’s a bit of an issue, uh I already have a crush on someone…” You half lie. Sure you thought Saiki was cute, but he was off limits since you know, best friend things.

“A-ah? Is it Saiki-san? I’m sorry! I thought you thought of him as a friend so I took the chance-“

“I-It’s ok! Kuu’s my best friend, it’s just I’m suspicious that he’s aromatic so uh-“ Saiki slams the door to the roof open and you panic. You forgot he was there. The boy who was previously confessing to you flushes red and rushes off with an apology.

“Kuu! I- uh, you heard nothing…?”

‘Y/n.’

“I know you aren’t interested in me or anything but like feelings work like that you know? Ugh I just ruined our friendship didn’t I…” You shrink onto the floor and Saiki walks up to you, crouching down to meet you eye to eye.

‘Y/n.’

“What…” you mumble.

‘I… I’m not too sure what I feel around you, but I think I like you too,’

“Nice joke Kusuo, sure made me feel so much better,” you grumble, looking away. “I may be dumb but I’m not that dumb,”

‘I’m not joking,’ Saiki forces you to meet his gaze. “I like you too.”

You pause when he actually speaks. 

‘Did I kill you?’

“Kuu you can’t just say that and not expect me to break down!” You shove your face into your knees and Saiki smiles.

‘I’ll keep reminding you until you’re convinced, and I’ll take care of you until you know.’

“Then I’ll stick by you until this endless loop ends,” You smile, holding up your pinky.

You two sealed a promise that day.

[skellebonez]

Who Do I Go To? (Monkie Kid Fanfic)

I totally did not accidentally post this early before I edited it or added everything from my wip file... no... but anon, you gave me so much FREEDOM with this that I just went absolutely off the rails. This is not only set in a post S3 scenario where everyone survives and most of the villains have some kind of at least semi-redemption (except LBD, rip), this does feature a crackship or two of mine (you can read the tags to see the ships before you read)! Sun Wukong also has all of his immortality and some of his powers, I am writing this with the idea that he transferred most of them to MK and some of that was permanent once LBD was defeated and MK got his own back.

So... what if Sun Wukong did start communicating with the others in S3... but still has been bottling up his emotions about the past for so long he doesn’t feel he can talk to anyone because of their shared experiences? And what happens when that guilt and grief finally has someone willing to listen?

“What are you doing here, Si-SUN Wukong?” The Demon Bull King asked slowly, stumbling over his usual insult for the one once so close to him. They still weren’t close, and it was doubtful they would ever be as long as the sworn brothers they once were, but they were no longer at each other’s throats anymore.

That didn’t change how bizarre it was to see The Great Sage Equal To Heaven just... sitting outside his new home with no warning.

“DBK!” Wukong exclaimed, more startled than the larger demon was expecting as he jumped up and turned and if he didn’t look like he’d been hit with a truck metaphorically DBK didn’t know how to describe the way his fur stood on end and the redness in the other’s eyes. “I. UH. Was. Just stopping by to say hi!”

“No you weren’t,” DBK said, face falling into a deadpan glower. “You don’t do that. Even after 500 years I know you don’t.”

“I can start!” Wukong defended, crossing his arms and looking away with a wide teeth showing smile.

Too wide.

Even after everything that happened between them, from Red Boy to what happened when he needed his wife’s fan to sealing him in the mountain and everything that transpired with the Little Thief, he recognized that unhappy nervous smile.

“You can,” DBK said with a nod, gesturing to the smaller being. “You can also be here for a reason. Like what I heard you muttering to yourself behind the door.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” The Monkey King announced as he turned to walk away before a large hand, with shocking gentleness for the one attached to it, wrapped around his shoulders.

“If you need to talk-”

“No, haha, I most certainly have no need for that!”

“-you know we’ve already made peace. I-”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Wukong insisted, struggling only a little before freeing himself from the other’s grip with an even wider nervous smile.

“-am willing to listen.”

“Don’t have to!”

“Are you at least talking to anyone?”

Neither of them said anything, The Demon Bull King staring down at The Monkey King with both frustrated annoyance and genuine concern in his expression.

The former he could deal with, but the later was so new again that...

Sun Wukong panicked.

“.... OKEY BYE!” He yelled, jumping and allowing his cloud to catch him and take him off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOREVER SUN WUKONG!"

"I HID FROM THE WORLD FOR 500 YEARS AND I TURNED OUT JUST FINE, I THINK I'LL MANAGE!"

“He turned out fine, he says,” Princess Iron Fan called from behind her husband as she emerged from their home. “So fine that it took him losing his invincibility and his successor nearly being killed for him to admit he needed help.”

DBK grunted, nodding in agreement at her words.

“He needs more, still, my dear. Even I can see that.”

“Let’s call in some reinforcements then, darling. I think there are two people who may be able to get through to him.”

~

Sun Wukong sat on the beach of Mount Huaguo’s island home, clearly trying not to think about what had just transpired.

“Hey.”

“How did you even know to look for me here?” Sun Wukong asked, not nearly as startled this time. He’d heard the footsteps coming for a long time, the other apparently wanting to make his presence known.

“Bull King called Pigsy’s asking for MK. MK called me since he’s working. I remembered where you like to sulk. Hence: I’m here.”

Wukong groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. “I shouldn’t have even left the house today.”

“But you left,” Macaque said with a shrug, watching the other stew in his frustration at himself. “And you went to see DBK... and I guess Princess Iron Fan too? But you ran off. Why?”

“I can’t check up on an old friend turned enemy turned less enemy to ‘not exactly friend but we’re not trying to kill each other’ without being questioned?” Wukong grumbled into his arms.

“Not when you make him sound as worried as he did when he talked to MK,” Macaque continued, voice becoming more tense. “You didn’t go to apologize or explain anything, I was there when all that went down. So... did you finally go to talk about everything e-”

“No.” The word was said with such coldness that Macaque knew it was put on. It wasn’t out of malice but something else, something more worried and fearful. “No. I can’t talk to him about... I told him everything that explained what happened. I apologized. I don’t need to talk more.”

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to to just talking about, you know... how you’re doing," Macaque said with a concerned frown. It almost felt odd on his face. Almost. He was still getting used to the whole "not being mortal eternal enemies and now being friends and kinda sorta caring about each other again" thing. "I know it's been centuries and all and you're out of practice but like... it's been centuries."

"I just... can't, Macaque," Wukong rebutted as he refused to lift his head from his arms. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Don't."

The single word stayed in their air between them, heavy and hard and meaning more than the immortal would ever admit to.

"Come on, there has to be a reason," Macaque insisted as he sat down beside the other immortal. When no response came he sighed, tail flicking absently and flipping over some of the rocks on the beach as they sat in silence for few minutes. "You know... I started talking to someone."

"What?" Wukong turned his head, just enough to look at the other monkey from the corner of his eye.

“Sandy’s a good listener,” Macaque continued, falling back down to lay flat on his back and gaze up at the clouds. He remembered that Wukong felt better, sometimes, when you looked away when talked to. Didn’t know why, but he remembered. “Not exactly the kind of therapy he thinks I need, but he lends me his cats and he lets me talk and sometimes asks if I want advice. Sometimes I say yes, but when I say no he understands. Sometimes I just want to rant at that one little one eyed cat he has and she listened to... I think. She’s a cat so I wouldn’t know. He thinks I should see someone more experienced, an expert. Maybe he’s right, I dunno, but this helps enough for now.

“... who are you and what have you done with the Six-Eared Macaque?” Wukong asked with a soft glower, one that was clearly in jest from the tiny smile the other could see.

“Same Macaque,” the other said with a laugh, sitting back up with a theatrical flourish. “Just realized that talking to someone isn’t as dumb or useless as I made it out to be in my head. A lot of the stuff I thought about alone wasn’t exactly the best. Or healthiest. But now I can get that out there and sometimes it makes Sandy look like he ate a whole lime which probably means it’s good it’s not in my head anymore.”

“You ramble a lot,” Wukong said with a chuckle, tail swishing softly beside him before nudging against Macaque’s. He tensed before it slowly wrapped around the other’s. “It feels odd, having you try to cheer me up again after... everything.”

“Bad odd or good odd?”

“Good.”

“That’s.... good,” Macaque said, squeezing Wukong’s tail with his own. “Feels odd for me too. Like I’m out of practice too. But it’s good odd...” The two sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company before he continued. “I do think you should talk to someone. Anyone.”

“I don’t know who, though. Every time I try I just... clam up and run away. I’ve put so much on MK already,” Wukong said, tail squeezing around Macaque’s loosely in return. “And Pigsy and Sandy... After all that came out, that Sandy is Sha Wujing and Pigsy is Zhu Bajie’s reincarnation... I just... I can’t talk to them either, even though Pigsy doesn’t remember anything at all. And you... DBK... everyone... who do I go to that knows enough about me to know what they’re in for but I won’t have those memories floating around in the back of my head toward making me run away?”

“Well, you could have Sandy help you get a therapist. Prepare them in advance. Or, if you’re not ready for that, you could talk to Tang?” Macaque suggested with a shrug. “He listens to me when I’m not talking to Sandy... but that’s probably because we’re dating, that’s what it is now instead of courting, right? So he kinda has to I think? Pigsy and MK talk to him too but with me I think it’s different.”

"I don't think that's how it works," Wukong said with a half hearted chuckle as he finally raised his head all the way. "Besides, I've known Tang longer."

"By like 3 months."

"3 months more is still enough to know that if he doesn't want to listen to you he won't. The man knows how to make a speedy exit."

"Guess that's one more thing that sets him apart from his great-great-great-great-great-whatever uncle," Macaque admitted with a shrug and a chuckle of his own. He squeezed his tail around Wukong's, smile softening when he felt it being returned.

“Feels... weird though,” Wukong said with a shrug. “The two of them looking so much alike.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Macaque rebutted. “He’s Tang Sanzang’s great-whatever nephew 5 times removed or whatever and he looks like him. Other than that? He knows pretty much all of your history. He’s mostly out of the hero worship zone but he still respects you a lot. Aside from everything that happened with LBD and MK you two have the least history out of everyone so maybe whatever’s in your head making you clam up might not stop you. And it couldn't hurt to try. It’s not therapy, it’s just talking about something that’s bothering you. Worst that can happen is you get nervous and fumble and he takes the opportunity to ask you 40 questions about the times you were almost incinerated by a baby."

"That was one time!"

~

“Uh,” Tang started, staring out the open door with wide eyes at the being before him. “Hi. I didn’t exactly expect to you see today.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be here today,” Wukong said awkwardly, nervous smile taking over his face as his tone became far too jovial for what he was about to ask. “Macaque sent me to... talk to you. About me?” His smile drooped bit by bit as he said these words, slowly starting to lose his determination to go through with this. “Oh second thought, maybe I should-”

"No," Tang said, reaching out to put a hand on the immortal's shoulder. It was nothing, really, not to someone as strong as he was. Not when he could brush it off and walk away. Go home. Just sit on his couch and watch Monkey King The Animated Series again and just think about how no one deserved to be saddled with his problems anymore. But Wukong didn't. "Whatever it is, we’re going to talk about this now. I know I’m not trained like Sandy is, but I know how to listen. And if you need someone to listen to you, I can. You wouldn't have come here to talk if you didn't."

“... ok...” Sun Wukong said, letting Tang wrap his arm around his back and guide him inside his shared home with Pigsy and Macaque.

It was... odd. Being inside this place for the first time. He’d been outside of the door more than once, invited in as well. But never inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tang said, stopping his guidance once they reached the sofa. “I’m no Sandy, but I was making myself some tea and it is a batch of his own anyway. I’ll grab us some snacks too.”

“Snacks would be great,” Wukong admitted, watching the other disappear into the house’s kitchen before he sighed and gripped his thrashing tail and muttered to himself. “What am I doing..? I shouldn’t put all this on Tang... I should have gone with Macaque’s first suggestion, I’m-”

“Do you prefer lychee or persimmon?” Tang asked suddenly, startling the immortal for the second time that day. “We’re out of peach bao, but MK’s been making them out of lots of fruits and we have so many that I was planning on eating them myself.”

The scholar returned, faster than expected, with a full tray in hand. Teapot, two tea cups, and a steamer box that presumably held the buns he was asking about.

“Uh... persimmon,” Wukong answered, and he watched as Tang poured each of them a cup of tea and removed some clearly fresh (or at least made some time earlier in the day and freshly steamed), pieces of fruit laden bao to put on a plate for his guest before taking a seat in a chair across from him. “You were... getting lunch?”

Tang shrugged, laughing as he took a bite of one of his own. “Just wanted a snack. But,” He smiled, gesturing to the Monkey King. “We’re not here to talk about snacks. What’s on your mind?”

“Awfully forward start.”

“I try to be forward with the people I consider my friends.”

“... You consider me... a friend?” Wukong asked slowly, turning the bao over in his hands. It was well made, perfect he would say. You’d think MK would have been making them all his life, not that he’d learned how to on the drone ship while on the run from an evil super demon bent on erasing his mentor from the world.

“After everything we went through, how could I not?” Tang said, putting his food down to sip his tea and then putting that down as well and looking at him seriously. “You’re here because it’s the anniversary of the day you sealed away the Demon Bull King, aren’t you?”

The bao in his hands wasn’t perfect anymore. Instead the red lychee inside dripped from his claws from where they punctured it in surprise.

“How did you-?”

“My specialty study is your history after all,” Tang said, smile returning with a sad tint. “I’ve known the date for years but I felt it was something to keep to myself. For some reason. Now with you and DBK back I think that was a good choice. It feels too personal to have out in the open for everyone to make a spectacle of.”

“Is it selfish of me to be thankful for that?” Wukong muttered, gently placing the bao on the plate to lick his claws clean.

“I don’t think so,” Tang answered.

“I feel selfish though,” he continued, not managing to take note of how Tang sat up straighter and turned more toward him. “I went to DBK’s to... I don’t know. I wanted to apologize again? But I already did and he accepted it and it feels selfish to want to again. Then I just. I froze.”

“Why?” Tang asked, scooting closer.

“It felt wrong.”

“Because you would make him feel awkward?”

“NO!” Wukong groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just. I feel...” He took in a shaky breath, claws digging into his skin slightly.

“Don’t,” Tang’s voice came soft and closer than Wukong expected, as did the hands on his own slowly pulling his claws away from his face. “Don’t hurt yourself. And don’t bottle it up. I’ll listen to you. No matter what it is. It’s not selfish, feeling things isn’t selfish.”

“I miss it,” Wukong breathed out, shaky and choppy as his throat tightened as the words started to pour out of him. “I miss him. How things used to be between us and Iron Fan. I miss that I never got to meet Red Son when he was Red Boy. I miss Beng and Ba and Ma and Liu and how things used to be. I miss Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing even though they’re here. I miss my Tang Sanzang. I’d been alone for 500 years and I missed so much and I did that to myself and it’s selfish to miss like that...”

He didn’t realize his cheeks were wet until his hands had been let go and one of Tang’s rubbed a cloth against them. Tang cupped his cheeks softly before wrapping his arms around him and tucking the Monkey King’s head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“No... no it’s not. You’re allowed to miss things, Sun Wukong. Just like anyone else.”

Sun Wukong started to feel better.

He didn’t know why that was what did it, but the dam broke. It broke and his tears came pouring out as he hugged the man who reminded him so much of his Master. He didn’t know if anything he said in the mean time made any sense, if he was just blubbering and finally letting himself mourn what he’d lost and never had, but Tang didn’t ever chastise him. He let him weep and hold him and for the first time in years...

~

“Oh!” Princess Iron Fan startled as she opened the door to see who had knocked, finding herself face to face at sunset with one Great Sage. “You’ve returned.”

“Are you and DBK free?” Sun Wukong asked, smile no longer too wide. “I... kinda just wanna talk with you for a bit.”

“Well... I think that would be lovely.”

[marvelslut16]

Idiots in love

Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader 

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way. 

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death. 

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!

My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!

“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years. 

You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.

You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.

“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon. 

“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”

The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you. 

“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”

“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”

You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.  

“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”

“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”

Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did. 

“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.

“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast. 

“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you. 

Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt. 

“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”

“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room. 

You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like. 

“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice. 

“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking. 

“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”

“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”

“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”

Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.

“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs. 

Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs. 

After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two. 

“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases. 

“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly. 

“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen. 

“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”

“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”

“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.

The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus. 

Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw. 

“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur. 

There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her. 

“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you. 

“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes. 

“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.

“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black. 

The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.

“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair. 

“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection. 

“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky. 

“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.

“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.

“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night. 

“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”

“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”

“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”

“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”

Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed. 

A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams. 

“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress. 

“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”

“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”

“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room. 

--

“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill. 

Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it. 

The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.

A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips. 

“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”

“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”

“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name. 

“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”

With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.

Part 2

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​

[dumbikawa]

Being Stressed About Exams & HQ Boys Comforting You

GN!Reader | Comfort/Fluff | Warnings: stressed reader

Characters: Atsumu, Oikawa

A/n: This is extremely self-indulgent as school has been kicking my butt and the future post-graduation is very terrifying lol

ATSUMU

You stare at the computer in front of you, the text you’re supposed to read for class beginning to swim together as your eyes fill with tears. Everything is happening too fast and you feel completely unprepared to take any of it on. What if you spent all of this time and money on schooling only to fail so close to the end? What if you finally do finish, but then can’t find a job in your field? Should you have studied something else? The questions become more exhausting and constant the closer it gets to exams. 

Small droplets roll off your cheeks and begin to pool on your keyboard. You haphazardly wipe them away before powering off the computer and tucking it back in your bag. Out of sight, out of mind, you figure. It’s not like there’s any use in trying to finish it tonight when you can already feel another wave of stress induced tears coming on. Those have also become a regular thing.

You click the volume button on your phone so that the sounds of music fill the room before leaning back in the desk chair, testing the limits of how far you can recline before gravity takes over. Atsumu had made this study playlist for you when he first noticed how stressed you were. It contained a mixture of your favorite songs, his favorite songs, and a few ‘motivational’ songs he pulled from his work-out playlists. It was a bit of a weird Frankenstein mash up with the large variety of genres, but it quickly became one of your studying must haves.

Over the sound of the music, you couldn’t hear the shower click off and the door to the bathroom swinging open. When Atsumu steps out, he sees you sitting where he’d left you, although, in a more dangerous position than you’d been in before as he notices the way the desk char teeters back and forth. His attention is quickly caught by the music choice, though, recognizing one of the songs playing as a favorite of his he added to the playlist he made for you a couple weeks ago. A smile breaks through his face as he hurriedly jumps into a pair of sweatpants before approaching your quiet figure.

As he comes up behind you, though, he notices a slight glisten upon your cheeks and a few fresh tears that tumble from your closed eyes. His upturned lips quickly sink as worry floods through him. Exams had been taking a toll on you, it wasn’t hard to tell, but he would never get used to seeing you cry.

“Baby,” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “What can I do for ya? Food? Cuddles? Cry it out?” You nod, resting the chair back on the ground and practically launching yourself into his arms.

Atsumu catches you with ease, his strong arms holding you against his chest. His hand rubs up and down your spine, sending shivers racing down you back, but there's no ulterior motive to his gentle touches. He continues the soft touches as he guides you to the bed, only letting you go for a second before allowing you to bury yourself in his side again.

“What if I can’t do it?” you whisper, trailing your fingers across Atsumu's toned chest. “I’ve studied for so long, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if--What if I don’t actually know anything and I crash and burn and--”

Atsumu shushes you gently, placing a few comforting kisses to your forehead. He notices your breathing beginning to grow heavier as your anxiety takes over. There's a few moments of silence as you try to match your breathing to his, the two of you taking slow, deep breaths in sync.

“The future might be unsure and stressful, but I know you’re going to do your best and make it work. All you can do is continue to work towards your goals and handle everything as it comes. Not to mention, I’m always going to be here to remind you of how strong you are even if you don’t see it.”

A new wave of tears begins as his words echo through your ears. You bury your face in his chest as your arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to pull yourself as close to him as you physically can be. Somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear and a part of you wonders if he’s ever repeated those sentiments to himself when things felt unsure.

He continues to whisper reassurances as you fully relax against him, your tears finally beginning to dry up. You lift your head and offer him a weak smile.

“Thanks for letting me cry on your abs,” you sniffle, allowing yourself to truly laugh.

Atsumu feels lighter as he watches you smile and joke, hopefully being able to forget about the more stressful parts of life for a while as he holds you close. There’s been countless times where you eased his worries about the future, so he’s just happy that he can return the favor and create a safe space where you’re allowed to simply be.

OIKAWA

The cup in your hand is warm and comforting as you trudge towards your bedroom, a sense of dread washing over you as soon as your eyes land upon the laptop you left sitting open on the bed. With finals coming up, you thought it would be a good idea to transfer the notes you had written down during lectures onto your computer, figuring it would make them easier to access and that the process of going back through the information would be a good way to ensure you remember the material.

What you didn’t realize, however, is how absolutely time consuming and exhausting it was going to be. Your neck hurts from constantly looking back and forth between the paper and computer screen, your back hurts because somewhere along the way you abandoned any semblance of healthy posture and decided to go full cave gremlin in the way you hunched over your work, and instead of absorbing the information for a second time it seemed as if your brain had completely abandoned you and gone on autopilot. Shoving the computer off the bed and taking a nap feels like the best course of action right now, but you know if you stop now there’s no way you’re going to want to finish later.

Begrudgingly, you settle back onto the bed and take a large swig of coffee before stretching your fingers and placing them back on the keyboard. It couldn’t take that much longer right? All you have to do is push through and get it done.

And, for the next few hours, that’s what you do. You jump back in where you left off and race through the next few, gruelingly long chapters. The daylight outside quickly dwindles away until you’re forced to turn on the bedside lamp when you realize the sun has sunk far below the horizon and is beginning to cast bizarre shadows around the room. It was no bother, though, because you’re so close to being done. The issue is that neither your brain nor your body could keep up anymore.

Your fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, typing made up words that have you constantly backspacing and starting sentences over again for a third of even a fourth time. The breaking point comes when you go to take a sip of your now cold coffee and look back at the screen after attempting to type an entire paragraph from your notes in one go. Little did you know your finger placement was off, yet again, and the entire paragraph is an unreadable mess that even spell check doesn’t want to touch.

The tears that sting your eyes make you feel stupid. It was entirely too dumb to cry over something as superficial as misspellings that could be easily fixed and cold coffee. But once the tears start they won’t stop. Suddenly, you’re not crying over the notes or even school work in general. You’re crying about the crushing weight of change that's soon to come once you finish with classes and how impossible everything has begun to feel.

You’re too exhausted to focus on anything anymore, letting the hot tears run down your cheeks freely, which is why you don’t hear the rushed footsteps of your boyfriend who could hear your hiccuping breaths from down the hall. 

He doesn’t say anything when he sees you curled up on the bed, your face buried in your arms. Oikawa sits on the ground closest to you and lays his head near yours as he begins to run his slender fingers through your hair. It doesn't take a psychic to tell you've been stressed with the quickly approaching exams, and from the collection of notes littered all around to the half closed computer the dots practically connect themselves.

The slight dip on the bed near your head alerts you to his presence, but you don't move. His hands guiding themselves over your scalp is quick to relax your body, but your mind feels like it's about to burst any moment as the thoughts continue to race.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers against your temple, planting soft kisses after every word, “and you deserve to take a break. Remember when you used to have to tell me that all the time?" The feeling of his quiet laughter against your skin makes you smile, along with the memories of simpler times before either of you had barely begun to grasp how harsh the world could be.

"I picked up dinner for us, it was an apology for coming home late," he admits, kissing the top of your head. "But let's go heat it up and you can either tell me everything you're worried about or we can try to forget all about it for now and watch a movie. I'd really like it if you talked about it eventually, though. I know I'm not going to be able to fix it all, but that doesn't mean I can't try."

You turn your head to the side, exposing your tear stained cheeks that are quickly wiped away by Oikawa's calloused thumbs.

"I will," you say, voice heavy. "For now could you just hold me?" There isn't a second of hesitation as Oikawa slips his arms beneath your figure and presses you tightly against him.

"Movie it is," he announces, laying you on the couch with the remotes so that you could put on whatever you want. Your brain would never stop the constant anxious thoughts, but losing yourself in those chocolate brown eyes made it easy to imagine a future where it all works out somehow. Little do you know, Oikawa sees the same thing reflected in your eyes as he wonders about the right time, perhaps a couple years from now when you've both settled down in your careers, when he can finally buy that ring he's been looking at.

[fallindomino]

how i would have changed s2 of hsmtmts

obvious disclaimer but im not a screenwriter or anyth so im not claiming what i want is best, this is just for fun lololol

okay so first of all nini would still have dropped out of yac but she wouldn’t have gone back to east, she would have transferred to north bc she was too ashamed to tell anyone she left at first and maybe she still wants to explore who she is away from ricky and the others

nini could join north’s batb and this way maybe we could have some playful rivalry with lily and nini and more scenes with antoine shdhdjdj also it could have been a great opportunity to flesh out lily’s character so those scenes where she reaches out to ricky and her confession at the end of the season actually make sense lol

speaking of ricky ,,, i think he should have left the play at some point hear me out. he only joined in the first place because of nini and barely wanted to do it at all once he realized he wasn’t gonna be able to perform with her. he could have joined crew and been a manager with natalie or smth considering he rlly does see the theater gang as a second family. also this would leave so much room for ej and ricky development and bants since ej joined the av club and began to pursue film. they could have some convos where idk ricky asks ej how he figured out what he wanted to do after duke didn’t work out and ricky could actually develop some interests that arent the play or nini ,,, maybe fucking art club i mean he did p good on that centerpiece for carlos’ quinceañera.

with ricky not being the beast anymore i think seb should take his place that would be soooo good. and since seb isn’t chip anymore carlos won’t make those snide comments about chip being a small unimportant role and we can just cut that whole fight bc it was dumb and bad. we could still have seb being insecure that carlos is only dating him bc there aren’t really any other gay guys at school. in a heartbeat is great and i did like ricky being supportive in the background it was kinda funny too idk dhdjdjfj

ooh i almost forgot abt rini ahshdj okay so i still think they should break up. but in my version there’s no ricky pulling an ej 1.0 and deleting comments off of nini’s insta, cause with ricky in art club and nini at north trying to figure out what she wants i think one of them would realize that they’re going in different directions and only got back tgt because they made each other feel safe cause what they had was familiar. this could be triggered by ricky mentioning smth abt nini at yac and then nini breaks down and tells him that she dropped out and is at north and doesn’t know where she’s going. and then they can both realize they aren’t good for each other rn and have a less tragic mutual break up.

honestly i really liked the scene of nini taking charge after miss jenn freaked out cause with the character detail of nini giving every person in the cast of productions she’s in a thank you note she just seems really like someone who is suited to lifting others up. this could still be explored at north, maybe she could help lily through her issues that were briefly implied in ep 11 and nini realizes she wants to be a drama teacher and encourage kids to go off book and put themselves into their acting, something she couldn’t have at yac.

okay now ej ,,, so like i said in ricky’s section, more bants between them cause i feel like friendships kinda fell by the wayside due to all the relationships so more friendship !!!! also the scene where ej tells his dad he’s not going to duke shouldn’t have been an ending scene, it should have been fleshed out with his dad pushing back saying how he pulled all these strings to get him in and ej saying he doesn’t wanna go if his own hard work couldn’t get him there. and also more scenes of ej doing av club things !!! and realizing he rlly likes film and wants to do it OMG IT WOULD BE SO COOL IF HE BROKE THE FOURTH WALL AND ASKED THE DOCUMENTARY CREW ABT THE FILM INDUSTRY god i would love that. the only scene we rlly got of ej doing film things was at the quinceañera which made me kinda sad. uhhh also i just wanted to specifically mention how ej got mr mazzara that job at cal tech bc it really showed how he wanted to be there for people not just for gina, who he had a crush on, but for mr mazzara who supported him outside of romance, so i wanna keep that for sure.

gina !!! okay so i mostly liked her arc in this season, the only changes i would make would be to flesh it out a teeny bit (god this hypothetical s2 would have to be like 22 eps at least shdjdjdjfj) anyways besides ashlyn singing home to get gina to stay i think there should be a scene where they actually talk in her room abt how gina feels safer when shes on the run (second chance reference ilysm) hhhh and also a scene of her and carlos actually working out compromises for their choreo cause i liked that bit of development too and fleshing that out would make gina an even better foil for lily, who felt a need to hog the spotlight like gina used to. with gina’s own arc fleshed out her character would feel more whole independently from romance and portwell would be even more rewarding than it is in the current s2. the only thing i would really change abt portwell is that they would kiss !!! in the finale but thats bc im biased.

ashlyn should have gotten a more fleshed out storyline about being insecure about not being a good enough belle or the typical belle. there were some throwaway lines when north did their typical dramatics but the only two real scenes that showed it were when ash talked to big red about it and when she was telling nini she wanted to do a run in “home” bc lily did it. ashlyn should get more screen time where she has to grapple with the reasons she doesn’t feel good enough and big red can still support her but also gina too bc i would like more roommate besties interaction.

kourtney could still date howie, that harry potter shit was cute but there needs to be smth else for kourtney’s arc. idk she’s still into fashion so maybe she could be out here trying to create her own line or smth? this doesn’t have to be resolved in s2 like making a wholeass line takes time and she could work on it into a potential s3. kourtney just didnt get much outside of howie and the stuff at the beginning of the season where she said nini inspired her to be independent and that's why she got a job was just dropped?? so i think that fashion could fill that for her if she’s still dating howie cause like having her whole arc just be the pizza place kinda overlaps w big red’s mini arc abt how he wasn’t settling for hospitality, its what he wants to do with his life.

ik what ur thinking. anna, even if you added more episodes, where would u find the room to add all these plotlines?? well first we cut (most of) the seblos fight, so thats some time saved. honestly most of the time that we r going to gain is going to be from cutting ms jenn’s time. things like ms jenn’s and nini’s car ride would get cut, but mostly all of ms jenn’s romances would get cut down. considering she’s the teacher and isn’t actually a character with an arc how does she have THREE love interests this season?? like all of the weird tension between her and zack can be cut, like just some short scenes of them being competitive can stay. all of the stuff with ricky’s dad can go bye bye we don’t need it. i did like her w mr mazzara so most of that can stay i just didn’t like how he said he would give up cal tech for her, ew no that would be gone.

the MENKIES !!!! this is the last thing im gonna address cause in a perfect world every character would get a long fleshed out arc but then the season would be waaay too long and also im mostly trying to work within material the show gave so this is mostly made up of “realistic” deviations from what actually happened. lol idk what that even means it just makes sense to me. but anyways!! uhhh bro idk i thought them dropping the menkies was funny but it also made the finale really BAD lmao. in this finale, seb is the beast, east still had to deal w the fact that they’re underfunded compared to north but no one is injured, lily is less of a poorly written character and maybe ppl are even rooting for her, and wow i just realized i never actually said what role i think nini should have in north’s show. OOH she could be student director instead of lily cause lily both being in the play while also directing was weird considering omg i just checked and according to her wiki page shes a FRESHMAN?? and they let her be student director? lol hell nah. okay so with all that in mind ,,, the menkies should have been the season cliffhanger instead of portwell. east and north should both be nominated, both schools perform at the menkies, and then the award winner is about to be announced and THATS when it cuts to natalie and the end of the season.

one, this actually gives more tension for a summer s3 as we would be waiting to see the consequences of whichever school won. also i bet people would be wondering if nini’s gonna be transferring back to east or staying at north. people would also prob wonder if ej would be getting the scholarship if east won and what that would mean for his interest in film.

lmao that got longggg and idk if anyone’s even gonna read this but it was fun to do :D

[blazichu]

#catch me rattling on about GG pt 2 for paragraphs

Please continue when you can. I love your reading your analysis!

Apparently I'm incapable of looking over one half of Good Genes without doing the other, so I guess we get a double feature tonight:

Part 1:

I am, of course, contractually obligated to point out my favorite line from the cold open: "My friend Donatello is one of the gentlest souls I've met, with one of the finest minds I've ever known." It seems especially relevant since, later on, Stockman reduces Don to "The smart one"

One thing I noticed this run through is that Leo's speech is slightly different than usual this arc. My favorite is his response to "It's only a matter of time before [Don] is lost forever"; his tone changes dramatically between the two halves of his line, "That's not gonna happen" and "We can't let that happen." The first is his usual 'decisive leader' voice, but the second has this kind of worried warble to it. It's great, and Sinterniklaas gets an A+

Of course there's the breakfast sequence. I don't really have much that hasn't already been said about it, but there's something sweet and sad about how Mike says that he "Just wanted to give him some food". It's just so little, a basic need that he's trying to fill because he cares, and it goes so wrong so fast.

My fourth point is kiiiinda weird and a stretch, but I've always loved the way Outbreak (as an arc) sets up so many bits and pieces that pay off specifically in AiTS/GG. It's usually stuff Don's been working on-- like the trapper gear, the tunnel to April's, or Stockman's helicopter. It's just neat, kind of setting up how indispensable Don's presence really is if he's able to help without being mentally present.

Anyway, right back to Leo and line delivery. The other part of this is that he keeps hesitating and grasping for the right words when it comes to what happened to Don. He refuses to put a name to it when he tells everyone that the helicopter was the last thing Don was working on, "[...] before... Before."

There's also "Don got infected. He's been transformed into... into a monster."

This is something I've definitely written about before, but idk if I ever posted it. Don's behavior after arriving at Area 51 is remarkably intelligent. He's able to use the guards' taser sticks against one another to get free, take out Leatherhead while he has the element of surprise (notable in that Leatherhead was the biggest threat/the one to subdue him in AiTS), turns on Stockman (who was responsible for the transfer in the first place), uses the glass from the containment unit as a shield, and actively prevents Splinter from doing whatever mind thing he did earlier. It's a far cry from lashing out and snapping wildly, and I've always thought it was interesting.

And the tranquilizer scene. Honestly, I find it kind of hard to watch, but I do like the way Leo kneels down next to Don after he's knocked out.

Part 2

I'm gonna talk about cold opens again, because I just realized that this episode essentially begins and ends with the same message: "It's an impossible mission, but what can we do? Our brother is sick, and there's nothing we won't do to save him."

So. The really cool thing about Good Genes Part 2 is how much it directly highlights the lack of Don's presence without actually saying as much. Raph splits off to handle the technology (albeit in an explosive manner) and is seen hauling the duffelbag around. Leo has the headset and is coordinating with April throughout the mission. Which leads me to...

One of the major set pieces in this episode is a callback: the obstacle hallway, Mystic chamber and elevator from Return to New York. I don't think it was an intentional connection, but part of their plan involves repurposing a mech suit to use against the Foot, which is exactly what Don did with Stockman's robotic body in Return. This bulletpoint is 100% me finding meaning where there probably wasn't any, but still.

This one's slightly off topic, but I've said before that I thought it was a dumb decision to have Leo confirm to Karai that the rest of his family was alive and well at the end of Prodigal Son-- this episode is 99% of why I think it was a missed opportunity. Iirc, Karai doesn't appear between then and now, so this would be the first indication she'd have that anyone survived her assault-- and all the boys are here except Don. I just think there's a lot of potential there.

At one point, as Karai calls the Elite into the fray, Leo tells Mikey to take the Heart of Tengu and run-- that he'd hold them off. 'Them' being the Elite; he's about to face the Elite by himself to ensure that this works out. Just try to tell me that's not a statement and a half.

Idk why, but "Get in get out, right? It's not about Karai, right?" always stuck with me.

It's interesting how the episode also calls back to the old intro sequence, where April's piloting a helicopter and Don's jumping onto the rope ladder hanging down from it. Not much to say here, but it's neat.

I'm really bad at making out overlapping voices (and can't make sense of Mikey's line here at all), but after Leatherhead catches Don, you can hear Raph ask him how he's feeling, and Leo say "It's so good to see you again"

I mentioned Raph helping Don to the helicopter in the tags of that last post, but I'm also going to point out that Leo, who is supposed to be flying the helicopter at the end of the episode, is emphatically not watching where he's going.

And, of course, the big one: "I hope you guys didn't go through too much trouble for me."/"Nah!"

In addition to the first point for this episode-- the implication that NO trouble would have been too much-- there's the fact that, when nobody answers for a bit, you can see Don's expression fall. It's that fact that makes me love Mikey's reaction so much-- the way he grins back and tries to sooth that worry down.

Idk how much of this was really analysis, Anon, but I did promise to rattle on for paragraphs, and had a good time doing it. I hope you get some entertainment out of this ;)

[lalainajanes]

For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.

Masks Off

When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.

And exhausted.

She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.

It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.

The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.

She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.

Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.

She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.

She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.

She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.

There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but  Caroline knows he must be working on something big.

Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.

The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.

It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.

She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.

She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.

She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?

Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.

She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.

As does another person.

Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.

She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.

There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.

When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.

She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”

It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.

But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.

The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”

Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.

Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”

She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”

Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.

Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.

“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.

The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.

Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.

Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.

She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.

Well, crap.

If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.

Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”

“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”

She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.

She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.

Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.

* * * * *

Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.

She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.

Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.

She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.

Which is not ideal.

Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”

Damn it.

Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.

She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.

Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.

“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”

The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”

Caroline can admit that’s fair.

“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”

No one even cracks a smile.

“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”

No response.

Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”

Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”

Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.

The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.

“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”

Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”

She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.

Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”

Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”

Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.

It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.

Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.

A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.

Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.

He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”

He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”

He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.

“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”

She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”

His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”

His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.

He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.

Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”

The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.

* * * * *

Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.

She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.

The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”

Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.

She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.

There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.

The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.

And promptly drops her wine class.

The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.

Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.

She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.

Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”

She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.

Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.

* * * * *

Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.

Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.

Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.

But she’s getting ahead of herself.

Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.

She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”

Which answers one of her most pressing questions.

Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”

Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”

He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”

She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.

Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.

She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”

Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.

Caroline refuses to find it endearing.

At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.

[dogbearinggifts]

What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever. 

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

[moral-turpitudes]

Little White Lies:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Unsupportive/Jealous Family Members, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, etc.

Word Count: 4,266

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader 

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. (this was such a fun request, I hope I did it justice lol)

Summary: From dealing with unsupportive and envious family members, to being caught in a lie, Y/N is forced to face her family and confront her feelings about her boss, all thanks to a wedding invitation.

“What do you mean you’re working as a secretary? I put in a perfectly good recommendation for you last month at the hospital!” Y/N’s father yelled as she made her way into the living room of her parents house. The old walls poorly concealing their loud arguing.

“Did you stop and think about how maybe I don’t want to follow in you and Margaret’s footsteps? I thought you’d at least be happy I’ve found something I like! But no, it’s not good enough for you aye? Nothing I do ever is...” Y/N yelled back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“Let’s face it, you and mum both like Margaret better because she has a “respectable job” as a doctor just like you. You pushed her off to the best schools, and only approve of her boyfriend because he’s a classy businessman.” She said lighting a cigarette.

“See? You’re already picking up bad habits Y/N. We just want the best for you.” Her mother said, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and throwing it into the fireplace as her father looked to the ground with his arms folded.

“A secretary job is respectable. I keep the company from crashing down half the time.” She said.

“And what company is that? One where they shove you in a dark room to type papers all day?” Her mother scoffed back.

“Shelby Company Limited. It’s quite nice actually.” She said with a smirk.

“Isn’t that where the Peaky Blinders run the streets? I bet you’re dating one of them for christ’s sake!” Her father yelled, turning away from his daughter in disgust.

“What if I am?” She asked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

“Who is it? I’ll get you transferred out in no time. No daughter of mine is working as a damn secretary in fucking Small Heath.” He said.

“Thomas Shelby.” She said, his name escaping her lips before she could think about what she’d done.

Her father tensed up at his name. His face paling in complexion as he sat down, his wife eyeing him with concern.

“The Thomas Shelby?” He asked, more quietly than before as if he was being watched.

“Mhmm. What is there a problem?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“No...are you sure it’s him? He practically owns half of Birmingham. Although his reputation is not something I’m fond of...I guess if you legally work for him that’s...respectable.” He said, his tone softer and more accepting than earlier. 

“Right, so now that I’m dating an infamous businessman, I’m more respectable as a secretary? Why the sudden change? I’m doing quite well on my own with this job.” She said as she observed his rigid body language. He hesitated to speak, remembering when the two older Shelby’s came in half-alive after being shot up by a rival gang.

“Well, given his reputation and my practice, I may have had a few run-ins with him at the hospital. It’s common knowledge not to get in their way but I did. I made him and his bastard of an older brother stay a week to heal after saving their asses.” He said, an annoyed look on his face.

“He threatened your father Y/N. We couldn’t even tell the coppers. But...please don’t get too proud over your position there darling. Your words could come back to you and he could find someone else by sundown.” Her mother said with a nice tone, trying but failing to take the sting out of her words.

She’d always been jealous it seemed. Seeing her daughters getting to achieve things that she couldn’t. Being led to a life of homemaking and hosting parties for her wealthy doctor of a husband. They never amassed the wealth like the Shelby family had, but they were able to afford a decent sized house in London, if that was any indication of her family’s status.

After a long, tense silence, she decided to leave. Saying a quick and frustrated goodbye to her parents before heading back to Small Heath. Her heart racing at the realization that she just openly told her parents she was dating her boss. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it were true, but alas it was nothing but a white lie. She had always been quiet on the subject despite them getting along well. Polly could see a connection, which she’d mentioned to her over tea various times, but she always shrugged it off. And now she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to tell him the truth.

As a few weeks passed, she continued with her clerical duties. Filing papers and reporting things to Thomas as usual. Until she got a call from home once again, requesting her presence immediately.

“Why do you all need me here anyway? I could be working right now.” Y/N said, impatiently tapping her foot on the lavish rug lining the hardwood floors of the living room.

“We wanted to give you this.” Her father said, flicking an envelope at her that she barely had time to catch.

The envelope was a light green color - her older sister Margaret’s favorite - with an intricately written invitation inside.

“Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/L/N,

We cordially invite you to attend the union of Matthew Reynolds and Margaret Y/L/N. Formal attire will be expected at both the ceremony and reception.”

Her eyes grew wide at the invitation as she realized her parents must’ve told her sister about Thomas. Knowing nothing she did was ever kept private, unfortunately. But in that moment she knew she messed up, thinking about how she’d have to tell them it was all a lie. That she wasn’t dating the infamous gang leader. A feeling of panic and embarrassment washed over her as she realized the gravity of the situation.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her mother said.

“Y-yeah. Wasn’t expecting Margaret to invite me, let alone um...Thomas to her wedding. Are you all attending?” She asked nervously.

“Well of course! We can’t miss our best daughters wedding day.” Her mother said, not knowing how her words cut into Y/N.

“You’re loved as well. Your mother didn’t mean that. No one would dare disrespect a woman associated with Thomas Shelby. Right dear?” He said, hastily reassuring his daughter and looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh darling I didn’t mean it like that. We love both of you. I’m sorry...I’ll do better I promise.” She said giving her daughter a light hug.

“Please do. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Y/N said harshly, leaving the house in a hurry as she clutched the green envelope in her hand.

A week had passed since she’d set the invitation on her desk at work. The paper easily seen from anyone near her desk as not many envelopes were that color. It cost too much to make them given the financial troubles of the past few years, but of course her sister could afford it.

It was midnight though when Thomas walked by her desk out of habit, the lamp still on while Y/N had left for the night. The faint yellow glow illuminating the envelope as he raised an eyebrow at it. He quickly picked it up, reading the intricate handwriting on the letter inside as he noticed his name next to hers.

The next morning, Y/N walked to her desk to see that the invitation was missing. Her stomach doing flips as she wondered where it had gone.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Thomas said as he leaned against the doorframe, his tailored suit catching her off-guard for a moment as she glanced at the man her heart ached after. Polly giving her a questionable glance and a small, knowing smirk as she walked reluctantly into his office.

He knew. He knew about the letter and she was dumb enough to leave it there last night. Dumb enough to lie to her parents. Dumb enough to harbor any feelings for the man who certainly wouldn’t admit any himself.

“Y/N...” He said, his low voice ripping her from her racing thoughts as she stood by the door.

“Y-yeah sorry. Busy morning. What do you need Tommy?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her hands.

“I need to discuss something with you. Please sit.” He said, walking over to his plethora of whiskey glasses and filling two of them with the brown liquid he loved so much. If anything, he’d probably marry a bottle of whiskey if he could.

“What is it you want to discuss?” Y/N asked, sipping from her glass as it burned its way down her throat.

“I found this on your desk. I know it wasn’t my business to go taking things, but I couldn’t help but notice my name was mentioned with yours...so now...it is my business.” He said, observing how she grew uncomfortable under his gaze, drinking more as she shifted in her seat.

“It’s a long story.” She said blankly while setting the glass down, wanting to flee out the door never to come back.

“And for once I have the time.” He said leaning backing in his chair and lighting one of his many cigarettes.

Y/N sighed and relaxed back into her seat, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of the best way to explain it to him.

“Alright...so my family is a bit backwards as you know. And happen to just adore my older sister Margaret. They funded her schooling, attended her graduations and awards ceremonies, and they uh...like that she’s dating - I mean - engaged to a businessman now. He’s what they consider successful.”

“Successful aye? What...they don’t think some razor-gang from Birmingham is successful?” He asked.

“No.” She answered, looking out the window as she continued.

“Anyway, when I visited them, they started saying things about the company and how my job wasn’t respectable. I tried to shut them down but um, my father accused me of dating one of ya, like it was a disgrace to the family. So I panicked and said that I wasn’t dating just any of them, I was dating you.” She said, looking down at the nearly empty glass in her trembling hands.

“What’d he say to that aye?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his usually stoic face.

“Oh his whole demeanor changed. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. He um...said he knew of you. Said he treated you and Arthur for a week after a bad night on the job.” She said, nervous he’d go after her father.

“Aye I remember him. A bit mouthy that one.” He said.

“You threatened him though. Why?” She asked, her nervousness turning to a bit of anger at the thought of him harming her parents, even if they weren’t the best.

“They wanted to report it to the coppers. And as you know now, we don’t deal too kindly with snitches. So I had to threaten him. To keep the peace.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke towards her.

“I wouldn’t say peace. Fear would be a better word.” She said, sipping the last of her whiskey.

“It’s worked out for me so far.” He said.

“Yes it has Tommy...but I have one question.” She said.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you wanting to go to this bullshit wedding or not?” She asked bluntly, hoping her interrogation would be over soon.

“That depends. Are you going? You don’t seem too fond of your family.” He said.

“I’m only going out of love.” She said.

“Well in that case, I am too.” He said, jotting down the address to the ceremony on his calendar with a star on the day, his heart racing despite his cold exterior. He’d harbored feelings for her too, and Polly could see it, often questioning him when Y/N would leave for the night, but he always blew her off due to peaky business.

“Wait...you actually want to go to such a horrid thing...with me?” She asked.

“And pass up a date with my favorite secretary? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, a small smirk hinting at his lips which seemed almost out-of-place.

“Date? Are you sure this isn’t some small business deal? You aren’t just agreeing for money or to pity me?” She asked.

“No Y/N...I’m agreeing because I like you. Always have...just never had the time to tell you till now. Now go back to your work before Polly gets even more suspicious.” He said, admitting his feelings like it was nothing as she stood there dumbfounded.

“R-right.” She said sheepishly as she made her way back to her desk, a small smile on her face as Polly watched her. Knowing something had finally gone down between them.

A week into their newfound relationship, the day had finally come and Thomas escorted her inside the wedding chapel, her black dress complimenting his suit nicely. Her mother scoffing as she sat near her, wondering why the hell she’d wear a black dress to a wedding.

“You know black is for funerals...didn’t I teach you anything?” She asked quietly to where only Y/N could hear.

“I’m just marking the death of any peace that was left between this family. I know you both will start hounding me with questions in no time now that Margaret’s spoken for.” She said quietly, staring into her mother’s cold eyes. There’s always been a tension between them, but it seemed even a joyous occasion such as this couldn’t cut it.

“You alright love?” He asked, holding her hand in his as she stared blankly at the alter, waiting for the ceremony to start.

“It’s just my mother. She can’t put aside our differences for one fucking day.” She said quietly. Her mother leaning over to insert herself into the conversation.

“It’s nice meeting you Mr. Shelby. You’re more than welcome to sit with us at the reception.” Her mother said as she watched her daughter talk to the infamous blinder.

“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N, we’d love to. Right Y/N?” He asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Love is one word for it I suppose.” She said, her jaw tensing as she saw her father approaching their seats.

“Glad to see you again Mr. Shelby, given this time it’s under better circumstances.” He said, shaking his hand firmly.

“Indeed it is Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and sticking it between his lips.

Her father soon resigned himself from the tense situation by sitting near his wife, who was eyeing the dashing blinder who smoked where he pleased.

“Can you believe she’s dating him? They look like they’ve only just started.” She whispered to her husband.

“If I have to accept him for professional reasons, you can accept him for our daughter. Enough with the snide remarks. Our lives might as well be at stake if he were to hear us...his threat still stands.” He said, knowing that his youngest daughter and her mother always had a tense relationship since her birth. It wasn’t particularly successful, only saving them in the knick of time from complications. Little did he know he was more so the heart of the family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

“They’re talking about me I know it.” Y/N said, fidgeting with her hands as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Margaret taking more than her sweet time getting ready.

“Let them talk then. It can only hurt you if you let it.” He said.

“Now, she better be dressed to the nines because this is the longest I’ve ever waited for a wedding ceremony.” He added, seeing a smirk forming on her face.

“Oh just you wait.” She said jokingly. The music catching everyone’s attention as they all looked on, and surely enough she was dressed to the nines, the whole tailoring industry probably coming together to complete the lavish gown.

“What is this the royal fucking wedding?” She asked, hearing him chuckle quietly under his breath.

As Margaret neared the altar with her father handing her off with a kiss on the cheek, she took a look at her fiancé and then turned toward Y/N, giving her a small smirk that made her stomach churn.

“What was that for?” Thomas whispered quietly, noticing the interaction.

“She’s rubbing salt in an old wound. She’s as bad as my mother.” She said, flicking her off silently. Thomas quickly placed his hand over hers to stop her from escalating the already tense situation. Her mother giving her a scolding look that she ignored, her blood boiling with the fact she was flaunting her status in front of her.

It seemed like forever before the vows ended, the tired crowd clapping and dispersing after the couple ran happily out the door of the church and to the nearby reception. With Y/N and Thomas lagging behind, not wanting to enter the horrendous venue.

“We can leave the reception early if you’d like. Maybe go somewhere more entertaining.” He suggested as they watched the couple parade around the room. Her sister quickly bringing her husband over to where they were standing.

“Y/N, love I’m happy you made it! We were scared you weren’t going to show.” She said giving her younger sister a careful hug as not to disturb her dress.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister...I can’t exactly avoid you forever.” She said a small smile on her lips.

“You never told me you snagged such a......man. Where did you two meet?” She asked, shaking Thomas’ hand as her husband did the same. Margaret wary of the cold stare he gave her and Matthew.

“At work.” Y/N said shortly, not appreciating her attitude.

“Look at that, my baby sister finally has a job. What is it? A teacher? a factory worker? a nurse perhaps?” Margaret asked.

“A secretary.” Y/N said, staring the bride down the best she could hoping her gaze could silence her before she made a show of it all.

“A secretary? Hmm. Well that’s good I guess. Just be careful though, those secretaries have to sleep their way to the top you know.” She said. Y/N’s face burning as she turned away from Thomas, wanting to run out and never look back.

Thomas cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of her back as she tensed her jaw, reluctantly turning back to her snake of a sister.

“How would you know? Is that how you got to your position?” She snapped back, the anger rising in her chest. She wished she could have captured her sisters expression in a photograph, her words finally cutting into her like she wanted.

“I assure you she isn’t doing anything of the sort. In fact, she’s an integral part of the company already. But if I were you I wouldn’t say too much else.” Thomas said, a dark tone to his voice as he kept a level head between the sibling rivalry that was happening by the second.

“Oh and who are you to threaten me? What’s this company you speak of? My parents never mentioned it.” She said, her husband whispering in her ear that they had to go. The poor man hated the situation just as much as Y/N.

“That was probably to protect you Margaret. You see...you’ve always been a bit reckless with new information. So I doubt you knew what father got himself into.” Y/N said.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, grabbing a glass of expensive champagne as the server walked by.

“He got in my way...and no one gets in Thomas Shelby’s way. It cost me some of my men. So, like I said, if I were you...I wouldn’t say much else.” He threatened again, her fiancé swallowing hard as he led his flustered wife away to mingle with the other guests.

“Why can’t you both get along?” Her father asked, walking over to the pair.

“I’ve done my part with both her and mum. But...I’m not staying where I’m not valued. I love you all but, we have to go. Send Margaret and Matthew our....warmest regards, yeah?” She asked taking Thomas’ hand and leading him out the door. Her father stood there with a tense look on his face, knowing his family had gotten themselves on bad terms with the Shelby’s once again.

With frantic footsteps she walked to the car, tears flooding down her face as she got in herself, not bothering to wait for him to open the door.

“You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you.” She said wiping her tears away as he started the car.

“Yeah.” He said, lighting a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t much for accepting thanks, at least since the war.

“Are they like that all time?” He asked after a long pause.

“Mhmm. Now you see why I don’t see them unless I have to. They just remind me of everything I’m not.” She said, looking out the window at the evening sky.

“That I do. I’ll be sending them something later, don’t worry.” He said.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her stomach dropping as she pictured him killing her family.

“You’re not going to kill them are you?” She asked.

“No...they’re not worth my time. At least not now anyway. And besides...I wouldn’t want to hurt you more than they already have.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips.

“Tommy look, I know my father got in your way on a mission and I know he made you stay longer than you wanted to...but you can’t blame him for doing his job. He was trying to help. He may not be the best, although he’s far nicer than my mother and sister, so if anything, please spare him at least. That’s all I ask.” She said.

“Like I said, they’re not worth my time now, love. If they continue bashing you and my family for how we do business I’ll let you know first alright? But I can’t let them off without a warning, so I’ll send them a letter alright?” He said.

“Well it better be good then. That’s the last I want to hear of this feud. I can deliver it to them if it will help...to make a point at least.” She said.

“Take this then, it won’t be good.” He said giving her a handgun from his jacket.

“I’m not shooting my family Tommy!” She said loudly as they approached the Garrison.

“It’s not for them. It’s for you. They’re not the nicest people and I want you safe. Especially since you work for us now. If they hurt one of us they hurt all of us alright? I know that’s not what you want to hear but it’s how this business works. Now...let’s go have some fun aye.” He said, helping her out of the car and into the bar that was teeming with people from the shop.

“Oi! How’d the wedding go? You’re both home early.” Arthur asked, handing them both a glass of whiskey.

“Terrible. Tommy’s writing a letter tomorrow to put them on their toes.” She said.

“Did they say summin’ about ya?” He asked.

“Yes...and about the company.” Thomas added.

“I thought we told him last time that we’d blind him.” Arthur said, an angry look in his eyes.

“Aye we did. But that didn’t account for her mother and sister. They have a way with words don’t they love?” Thomas asked.

“Mhmm. I’m delivering it, maybe then they’ll take what they say more seriously next time.” She said.

“We can only hope.” Thomas said, snaking an arm around her waist as they spent the rest of the night at the Garrison before going to their respected homes, too worried about the mission to do anything else.

The next week, Thomas signed the end of the letter, his hand cramping from the amount of things he’d written. Wanting to make sure his threat came off clear as day.

“Here Tommy, put this in with it.” Y/N said, handing him a lone razor blade, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Just in case they want to make anymore remarks, they can do us a favor and blind themselves. Like you said, they’re not worth your time now.” She said with a small smirk.

He took a sip of his whiskey and pointed to her with a grin, ushering her to come over to him.

“I like how you think.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her lips ever so lightly. The feeling between them almost electric as they departed.

“I’ll go take care of this, you go on with your business.” She said, as he handed her the letter.

“You know how to shoot?” He asked.

“Mhmm. Been practicing with John.” She said with a smirk.

“Alright, love you.” He said, as he caught himself muttering those words out sooner than he wanted to. But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see her go, not without knowing she was safe.

She stood there for a moment, looking at him as a smile spread across her face.

“I love you too.” She said before walking out the door to drive to the dreaded house she grew up in. Hoping this letter would keep them at bay for once in her life. Knowing her only chance at freedom from her family’s binds were through the doors of the shop and in the arms of the man she loved.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

[sstardusty]

would it make purple?

haikyuu boys react to-

“my popsicle’s blue and yours is red so if we were to make out, would it make purple?”

context: you’re sitting on the top of the hill in a park with him having your popsicles

KARASUNO

daichi- “we are in public??” “Okay and??” he’d just laugh at you because you are adorable and give you a smooch on the forehead then your nose and then your lips :)

sugawara-“it probably would!” “sooo...” “oh you meant literally?” you would grab him by the collar and kiss him and he’d put his hands on your back and all cute and sweet until he flips y’all over. ;)

𝗔𝘀𝗮𝗵𝗶- *blows a fuse* “I-I-I DONT KNOW?!?!” you’d then have to calm him down because he is a flustered mess. note for future: don’t make any sudden comments about making out with asahi

𝗡𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗼𝘆𝗮- “it sure would!” then no hesitation he would start making out with you, hands on your waist your hands on his chest. i mean you aren’t complaining, it’s pretty hot.

𝗧𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗮- “I DONT KNOW BUT WE SHOULD TEST IT!” “right now?” “RIGHT NOW!” he’s literally on top of you before you can form a full thought. it’s safe to say you got your question answered.

𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮- “I WANT MY TONGUE TO BE PURPLE!! HOW DO WE DO IT!?” you’d then explain to him how to make out and he’d be a blushy little dork. you giggle at him and just give him a sweet smooch.

𝗞𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮- “you cant just ask things like that boke!” “what i was curious!?” he’s blushing profusely and shaking his head at you, but like let’s be real he wants to make purple just as much as you do.

𝗧𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮- “are you that stupid? The color has already stained our tongues, it wouldn’t just transfer over” he rolled his eyes with the slightest blush on his cheeks freaking tsun tsun.

𝗬𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗶- “oh! ah! i uh don’t know?? i-i-don’t think it would?” he would try his absolute best to change the topic but we all know he won’t be able to stop thinking about it.

𝖭𝖤𝖪𝖮𝖬𝖠-

𝗞𝘂𝗿𝗼𝗼- “oh ho ho? well we better put that to the test, shouldn’t we?” “maybe we should?” he’d pull you into his lap and have a VERY heated make out with you, not caring of anyone sees.

𝗬𝗮𝗸𝘂- “you are so dumb” “what?” he’d bonk you on the head then kiss your head,, who’s the blushing mess now?? ;)

𝗞𝗲𝗻𝗺𝗮- he would just lookup from his game at you, shake his head disappointedly then continue playing his game. he doesn’t have time for your shenanigans and kuroo’s.

𝗬𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗼- “uh maybe! we should like uh totally try that out! If you uh want to??” he’d be a nervous wreck but you wouldn’t care so you’d grab his face and give him a big SMOOCH he’s not too nervous anymore ;)

𝗟𝗲𝘃- “OOOH!! I WANNA TRY!” “OKAY!!” He grabs you with his lanky ass arms and give you a very sudden kiss like teeth clashing arms awkwardly around the other ya know.

𝗞𝗮𝗶- “if you want your tongue to be purple you can just have some of mine?” “oh okay thanks!” I KNOW HE DRINKS THAT RESPECT WOMEN JUICE!!! he’d just give you some of his and then your tongue would be purple and you’d be a happy (y/n).

𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖱𝖠𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖹𝖠𝖶𝖠

𝗨𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗺𝗮- “hmm i am not sure if that would work but i am willing to help you test that theory” he’s to serious for his own good. You’d grab his shoulders and pull him down to you and give him a deep kiss and as soon as he gets into it HES INTO IT.

𝗧𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘂- “ooOooOo that doesn’t sound very g rated!” “is that a yes or a no??” he’d crack a teasing grin then BOOM he’s got his arms on either side of your head caging you in. he looks down at you and surprisingly gives you a very soft and gentle kiss. I love him so

𝗦𝗲𝗺𝗶- “seriously?” “would it!?” “why would i care?” ah but he does care and he wants to make out with you but you will never catch him saying that

𝗚𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗶- “that would be cool if it did” “wanna see?” “Uhm-uh- yea!” Eager bb would grab your face gently and also give you a big SMOOCH

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗯𝘂- “and why would you do that?” “why not is the real question” he’d just scoff and brush it off.

AOBA JOHSIA

𝗢𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮-“are you trying to flirt?~” “no?? i’m trying to make my tongue purple” “well i just so happen to be the one who can make that happen~” you’d grab his chin, kiss him deeply then bite his lip, let’s just say he was very shocked you made the first move. he’s not complaining tho he’d think it’s hot.

𝗜𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘇𝘂𝗺𝗶- “i know what you’re trying to do” “and that is??” “you want to make out with me” “we’ll i mean-” “just get over here” “yes sir” he gets RIGHT to business. he pulls you onto his lap and brushes your hair out of your face and very slowly leans in until his lips are barely brushing against yours then very suddenly he closes the small gap uhm step on me?? right now? please?

𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮- “oh we’d better figure that out then babe” he’d then proceeded to grab you by the shoulders with the hottest biggest smirk on his face and head in TONGUE FIRST like damn someones excited. you can also step on me??

𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶- “come on” “what?” “come on were gonna go figure that out” he’d grab you by the hand and take you somewhere farther away from all the people to answer that question of yours ;) feel free to step on me as well.

𝗞𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼- “what did you just say!?” “whaaatt?? hmm? i didn’t— i didn’t say anything?” “tsk” he’d grab the back of your head and SHOVE HIS TONGUE DOWN YOUR THROAT LIKE WOAH NO NEED TO GET AGGRESSIVE.

𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗶- “no, I am not going to make out with you” “but purple!!” “no” this boy does NOT CARE. YOU ARE WASTING YOUR TIME WHEN THERE IS IWA.

FUKURODANI

𝗕𝗼𝗸𝘂𝘁𝗼- “HEY HEY HEY!! THATS A GOODD IDEA!!” he would then excitedly kiss you and I’d be actually really cute and sweet.

𝗔𝗸𝗮𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶- “(y/n)-san?” “yeah?” “i wouldn’t be opposed to trying that.” now this would be romantic you’d look into his eyes and he’d place his hand on the side of your face and lean in to kiss you.

OTHER

𝗧𝗲𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮- “are you-? OH HELL YEAH!” he pulls you on top of him (oh?) with his hands on your waist and eagerly makes out with you he is a human golden retriever

𝗔𝗼𝗻𝗲- *confused grunt* “like would our tongues turn purple?” “ah” you wouldn’t get any REAL response, you’d just continue to eat your popsicles, he’s too baby

𝗦𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗮- “you disgust me.” “i know” “i’m seriously disgusted” you’d just sigh knowing your tongue won’t be purple any time soon

That was a lot of fun to write!!! I hope you liked it ;)

Sorry if any are ooc!!

Realize how iwas is the longest >-<

COME GET YOUR MANS- @the-kool-aid-man-is-real @kuronekomama @deadontheinsidebut @janellion @anianimol @churochuu @kaminii

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

[izzabeean]

Chapter 9 : Anticipation

SUMMARY

Ushijima makes an appearance at your group outing, and you try to ignore his presence. But, of course, it’s easier said than done in this case.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,344

content : profanity, mild violence, depiction of injuries

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : Is the world so small that Y/N keeps running into Ushijima? Perhaps in this story, yes. This week has been a bit slow creatively for me, I don't feel my writing is the strongest in this chapter. But here we are, things are heating up and I'm happy to provide.

Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.

masterlist

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Everything feels so surreal as you lock eyes with Ushijima from across the table. He doesn’t smile or say anything, he just looks at you with his empty gaze like this is the first time meeting. Ever. Your heartbeat starts to thump faster conjuring up a lump in your throat that cannot be swallowed. Your breathing is shallow and your hands start to sweat as you dig your nails into your legs.

Why didn’t you turn around when your instincts told you to?

Why did you talk yourself into thinking this was a good idea?

However, for some reason, here you are. The sequence of events leading up to this point doesn’t make any sense. Even when you were dating, you wouldn’t run into him this much, so why now? Why all these dumb coincidences? There’s no room for you to heal when you keep seeing him like this.

“Hi,” you squeal, temporarily incapacitated by the confused looks from your other groupmates.

But your high pitch voice produces shockwaves through Oikawa’s system as you quickly introduce him and Iwaizumi to which Sara introduces Ushijima to all three of you. Then it becomes apparent that Ushijima hasn't said anything to Sara about you.

It’s sublime how quickly you push down the devastation bubbling at the surface and you wonder how it is even possible for you to force a smile in Sara’s direction. Clearing your throat you take a seat. Ushijima has stopped staring now and takes a swig of the chilled beer sitting in front of him. Your mouth feels dry from the nerves that are trying to drag your spirits down. If you were going to survive this torture, you’re most definitely not going to be sober. Grabbing the waiter's attention, you order yourself a beer as you feel yourself on the brink of a heart attack.

“You ok?” Oikawa mumbles knowing well that turning to your least favorite drink is a bad sign. It’s very clear to him this evening isn't going to go very well, seeing as you are already on edge from Ushijima’s surprise appearance.

“Mhm,” you hum shooting him a smile. “I’m fine. Totally chill.”

“You know, we can leave,” Oikawa whispers. “You’re not obligated to be here.”

And let him win? you think. I don’t think so.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie, biting your lip. It’s no time for you to concede, you just gotta ride this one out, show him how much better you’re doing without him. It’s the only thing to get back at him for everything so grossly unforgivable that he’s done.

The waiter returns with your drink placing it down in front of you. Nothing has looked so relieving and thirst-quenching before; the cold and crisp-looking glass filled to the top of light amber liquid with a dollop of airy foam. You pick it up and throw it back, chugging the heavy and sour alcohol. Then you think, maybe you shouldn’t have done that as you strike the glass down on the table. Licking your lips, you notice the startled looks everyone gives you at your uncharacteristic action.

“Should we order food,” Sara interrupts the weird tension which segues everyone back to talking amongst themselves.

Your stomach starts to swirl as you’ve come to realize that drinking that beer was probably the worst thing you could do while it’s empty. But as you study the menu, nothing seems to scream appetizing. Not when you can see in your peripheral Ushijima and Sara sharing a menu while discussing what they want to order. It makes you sick.

The restaurant is loud, but your thoughts are louder as you sit there wondering if anyone else can hear them. It hurts to see him here in front of you beside her. She most definitely doesn’t know about your history with Ushijima just by the way she’s acting around him. Sara doesn’t seem maniacal enough to do something so disrespectful to someone she barely knows. For god's sake, she invited you here. Why would she want you here if she knew? To rub it in that she’s Ushijima’s girlfriend. Doubtful.

Maybe Oikawa was right all along about Ushijima not being how you perceived him to be. Maybe, just maybe you honestly, you were blinded the entire time. And now you were finally seeing him for who he truly is.

You were scared to admit it. That if you did, your year together means nothing when it still meant so much to you. But in this case, actions speak louder than words and most definitely Ushijima’s actions are very clear.

“I'm going to step out for a smoke. Do you need some fresh air?” Iwaizumi asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh,” you reply looking at Oikawa sitting beside you who's chatting with one of your group members. "No, I better not."

"Alright, I'll be right back," he says sliding out of his seat.

You try to hide your face behind the menu so no one talks to you and your plan almost succeeded except for the open opportunity it gave Sara to sit beside you. Your face pales as she leans in to rasp, "I'm glad you could make it."

"Yeah," you exclaim a bit put off by how close she is.

"I honestly thought you weren't going to show."

It's hard for you to not flash a bitter smile, but you force yourself to continue the conversation, "It took some convincing but bringing Oikawa and Iwaizumi helped."

The silence stretches between the two of you as Oikawa's laugh fills the air. You take a glimpse at him, noticing one of your group members flirting with him. You roll your eyes while looking back at Sara who is enthralled in his aura.

"He seems really nice,” she compliments. "How long have you two been together?"

"Hmm?" It takes you a moment to realize what she’s asking as you realize she's subtly gesturing to Oikawa. And when it clicks you are filled with laughter. “Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?”

The thought of you and Oikawa remotely appearing to look more than friends from an external perspective makes you nearly piss yourself.

"Oh, I just thought, you'd both make a cute couple," she corrects herself with puzzlement written across her face.

When you realize she’s being serious, you pause. “No, we’ve just been friends for a while.”

"Oooh," Sara taunts giving you a very mischievous look. "You know that saying, love is friendship set on fire."

"It's not like that," you nervously chuckle at her comment.

"Alright, I won't pry," she jokes. "But seriously, I'm happy you're here!"

She gets up from her seat and walks back over to sit next to Ushijima. Your feelings are honestly a bit mixed from that conversation. You really wanted to hate her, but she just seemed so genuine.

------

You’re a couple more drinks in and feel a bit of a buzz as Sara goes into grave detail as to why she transferred to the university now . But you can’t force yourself to listen. Your attention shifts to Ushijima smiling softly at the way Sara bubbles with warmth. It’s funny to think that someone else can make him smile like that besides you because you know how hard it is to do so. But it seems so effortless for Sara.

The memory of meeting Ushijima for the first time flashes in your head. To the time in the library where he reaches over your head to grab the book, you were trying to get on the top shelf. Now you can barely remember as the image of Sara takes your place to retrieve the book from Ushijima's hands. She's the new you.

You know you're overanalyzing every single movement Ushijima makes. From where his eyes linger to where his hands are placed, you cannot stop looking as you stay in suspense to what he will do next. You’re close to being consumed by the sudden urge to lash out or cry. It feels like he’s trying to push your buttons as he leans over toward Sara. You're waiting for him to kiss her. Waiting for it to break you. And it makes you sick.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your knee and turn to Iwaizumi who is looking down at you with a soft gaze. It’s odd but you somehow feel this tension between the two of you. You should have known better in that moment, but your mind feels a bit hazy from feeling vulnerable and also the alcohol.

“Is everything ok?”

You feel anticipation fill your chest and you swallow thickly seeing as this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. You look at his hand for a moment, at his long fingers gently grip the top of your knee. You immediately remind yourself of his words the other day, wondering if he intended to friendzone you like that.

You nod, smiling.

“Let me know when you want to leave,” Iwaizumi whispers squeezing your leg.

His face dips down slightly and you don’t know why you do it and don’t know how you had the courage to. But you’re so caught up in your internal frustrations, you don’t think before you act. You lean in closer to Iwaizumi and plant a kiss on his cheek uttering a thank you.

As you pull back, his eyes widen. It takes you a second to process exactly what you’ve done.

“Um, sorry,” you say to Iwaizumi, you need to get out of there before you die of embarrassment. Quickly you excuse yourself from the table as you rush to the bathroom and you can still feel Iwaizumi watching you.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

But you find the bathrooms have a long line up and turn a corner as you burst through a door to outside. The cool air hits you making it much easier to breathe. Finally, you’re by yourself. Screaming wouldn’t even be able to help you let out the confusion you feel. This was definitely something you didn’t want to have happened. But here you are regretting your capacity to understand a situation. Honestly, you were definitely feeling vulnerable. This entire evening you were caught off guard and something it makes you do weird things.

“Can we talk?

Turning around, you see Ushijima standing in front of you. He gazes down at you with his unreadable stare that makes you want to cry.

“No,” you say a little unnerved walking away from him. But you’re stopped by him grabbing your wrist, the same wrist the creep outside the club grabbed you with. Still a bit bruised and weak from his grip. You let out a yelp, “Let go of me!”

“Just let me explain,” he begs.

But you’re not listening as you try to wiggle your wrist away-- it’s not a tight hold, but it’s enough that it still hurts.

“Please, let me go,” you express firmly.

He stares at you for a moment and with a deep breath exhales letting go.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you yell, grabbing your wrist. “Moved on already, what the fuck is your problem?”

“It’s not--”

“No, let me finish. You’ve already done enough. I can’t believe you. You could’ve just told me you found someone else, instead, I see you with her all cute and cuddly and now I have to fucking work with her? This is such a--”

But as you’re about to continue your rant, you’re interrupted by a voice.

“What’s going on here?” Oikawa asks, noticing Ushijima standing before you. He studies your face filled with rage while you’re clutching your wrist. “Did you hurt her?”

“What?” Ushijima replies confused.

Then Oikawa’s eyes turn dark, a look you’ve never seen before. And you never imagined what comes next. He grabs a fist full of Ushijima’s shirt pulling him close enough that they were inches apart, barely touching noses. You had to stop them before it went too far but you couldn’t move your body.

“After all you’ve been through this is how you treat her?” Oikawa yells.

“You don’t even know the whole story,” Ushijima booms, forcibly removing Oikawa’s grip from his shirt causing Oikawa to make an aching face.

“I know enough to see that you’re a complete dick. But we both know, I’ve known that from the start,” Oikawa hisses. His eyes are fixed on Ushijima shooting him a scowl while your hand is clasped to your shirt.

“Stop it,” you say, but they both ignore you.

“I think you need to get your facts straight,” Ushijima says staying calm and collected while Oikawa explodes with rage.

“Why don't act more like a man,” Oikawa protests.

Then time moves so quick you couldn’t even see Oikawa raise his fist to hit Ushijima square in the face. Because not even seconds after Ushijima retaliates. You rush over forcing yourself between the two men before a fight breaks, pushing your hands against their chest yelling at them to stop. Ushijima is the first to back away as Oikawa stays resistant trying to push by you. But you take both your hands and press them against him as Ushijima exits back into the restaurant.

"Why are you trying to protect him?" Oikawa cries. You look up at Oikawa whose face is glistening in the moonlight as his cheek starts to swell. His dark eyes lock on you as yours start to glaze over.

"Are you stupid? He could've really hurt you," you wail, trying to hide the fact you're physically shaking.

And he sees it.

"Don't ever do that again," you barked.

Then he gives you his signature shit-eating grin, a look that is nowhere near appropriate from just getting punched in the face.

“Told you he’s a dick,” he smirks, walking towards the front of the restaurant. “Let’s go home.”

“What about Iwaizumi?”

“He’ll take care of things,” Oikawa mutters. “He’ll meet us at home. Let’s go before that blockhead comes back out.”

------

Oikawa called a cab to get back to his apartment, you felt a bit bad for leaving Iwaizumi behind. Especially since you kissed him then left.

Things seemed to grow incredibly awkward between you and Oikawa as he sat in the bathroom cleaning the cut on his cheek from Ushijima’s punch. You weren’t really sure what Oikawa was thinking, but you didn’t really want to ask.  As you gently press the cotton pad to his cheek, he squints his eyes while the burning sensation shocks him and exhales sharply through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mumble and he immediately forgives you with a smile.

He tries to pin his eyes to something that can distract the sting, but instead focuses his attention on the feel of your fingers against his skin. You’ve never been this close before and he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

He’s thankful for your patience with him. Most certainly did he think you were going to be pissed, but your reaction was far from what he expected as you kept silent for most of the trip home and even patching him up. Oikawa looks at you to see your frown had deepened. “Are you mad? You look mad.”

You scoff. “No, I’m just tired.” You’re caught off guard by his uncharacteristic concern and almost recoil with the question.

Oikawa sighs, “Your face is screwed up like you’re mad.”

“Tōru,” you scolded, crossing your arm across your chest. You choke on your words before answering, “I’m tired, not mad.”

Oikawa holds his breath and continues to look at you as you continue to make that sullen look. He doesn’t believe you. The sight of you with defeat in your expression makes his heart break. He notices your bruised wrist, still purple and blue, and imagines it probably hurts after Ushijima grabbed it. Then he wonders if he could have done something better to help you in that situation. Even that night back at the club still haunts him. If only he’d answered his phone when you needed him the most then maybe things would be different than now. He can’t stand it. He can't stand that Iwaizumi was there to help you instead. And he's not stupid, he knows you like Iwaizumi. He wasn't blind when he saw you kiss him at the restaurant. Oikawa didn’t know why, but something stirred him that he never realized before and it became very unsettling.

You lay the gauze over the wound and tape it down.

“How’s your hand?” you mumble, checking if the ice pack he’s holding to his fist has subsided any bruising your swelling. The bruising was already darker by the time you got to his apartment and it definitely terrified you.

“It’s fine,” he replies.

At this point, you’ve turned away and started to clean up. There isn’t a lot of blood, but enough to make shivers go down your spine as the image of Ushijima’s fist colliding with Oikawa’s face flashes through your head.

You feel your breathing heave as you try to collect yourself from breaking down in front of Oikawa. But something stops you. Instead of your usual hiding, you feel yourself let go and come undone. One small tear rolls down your cheek.

And then another. And then another. And then another. Until you can’t urge yourself to stop them anymore.

Oikawa freezes as he hears you sniffling. This time you don’t hide behind your wide smile. This time you’re actually crying and honestly he doesn’t know what to do. His intention wasn’t to make you cry, he wanted to protect you. And now he feels guilty for even putting you in this position.

“I’m sorry,” you pant, your voice broken by stifled breaths. “It’s all my fault you got hurt. I should’ve never gone to that stupid dinner.”

There’s this nagging feeling in his head pleading to comfort you. To hug you, to tell you it’s not your fault. His consciousness is screaming at him to do something to help as he watched you come undone in front of him. But why is he so afraid to?

“You were right, you’ve always been right,” you continue. “I’m so so sorry Tōru.”

You pause wiping the tears away that tracked down your face feeling awkward from exposing your vulnerable side to Oikawa. Tearing your eyes away from the first aid kit, you turn to look at Oikawa. There’s pity written all over his face. Your hands curl into fists.

It’s painfully tense as Oikawa attempts to muster up the courage to stand up to comfort you. He doesn’t want to regret his decision but he still hesitates, considering you’re now gazing at him.

“I-- I just,” you stutter, partially because you want to fill the awkward silence someway, and partially because you’re worried you’ve scared him. “I was scared…”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

Your heart feels like it’s in throbbing pain under Oikawa’s gaze.

His stomach clenches as you revert to silence.

Suddenly you hear the front door unlock and Iwaizumi call out that he's arrived. You feel your face burn up as you revert eye contact and lean on the counter to see Iwaizumi in the doorway of the bathroom.

“What the fuck happened,” he yells, visibly unamused that you both ditched him at a restaurant with people he didn’t know. You look at him with glazed eyes unable to utter a single word then that’s when he notices Oikawa’s appearance. “Shit.”

Oikawa’s face turns in a smirk. “You should have seen the other guy.”

“I did!” He protests. “Not even a scratch compared to you. You’re fucking stupid.”

"He hurt Y/N," Oikawa protest.

Iwaizumi's eyes widened looking towards you.

"He didn't hurt me," you reassure. "He just grabbed my bruised wrist."

Iwaizumi sighs, shaking his head. "You have to stop running off like that."

Oikawa watches the intimate interaction of indescribable energy or chemistry that lingers in the air between the two of you. He didn’t like it. Not even one bit.