#and I thought this would be the funniest way to explain it

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

A needlessly self-indulgent Tim and Steph role swap AU. Sort of.

"There's definitely something hinky going on here," Barbara told Jason. She was down in the cave for the night rather than across town in her Clocktower; Alfred had requested her presence for dinner earlier that night. He'd requested Jason's, too, and having Barb around to sweeten the pot had almost tempted him. There had been genuine regret in his voice when he declined.

Her red hair wasn't bright under the lights near the Batcomputer, not exactly, but it was vibrant, and the screens flashed over her glasses in an intimidating show of blankness. What the rest of them needed kevlar and voice modulators to achieve, Oracle needed only sheer presence. Jason fucking loved her.

"Told you," he grunted. His helmet was tucked under his arm, domino already tossed aside for the night. He stepped up next to her, dropping a hand to squeeze her shoulder briefly, and he could feel the smug satisfaction rolling off of her as she deliberately didn't glance over towards Bruce, who was hunched over grappling gun repairs at the main table and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't jealous of their easy comaradarie.

Up on the screen in front of them were two pictures--the young, pale face of the private-investigator-in-training who'd been bugging the shit out of the Red Hood for the last few nights, hounding him about help on a case, and the neutrally attractive, mid-fifties PI who was supposedly responsible for the kid. Newspaper clippings, police files, birth certificates, and a copy of both the PI's investigator's license and the intern's training contract surrounded the pictures.

"The kid's barely old enough to be out of high school," Jason said, darkly. "I dunno what the fuck this guy is thinking letting him run around unsupervised."

Unsupervised, and with a fucking attitude. The kid clearly didn't have a very high opinion of the Red Hood, despite his uncompromising assertions that whatever he was working on was going to require his assistance, and still, somehow, he couldn't seem to catch the hint that Jason wasn't interested.

(Actually, that wasn't quite true. Jason knew the kid had caught the hint. He just didn't seem inclined to let the hint stop him, and he was both annoyingly sneaky and frighteningly good at guessing where Jason was going to pop up each night. It was fucking annoying.)

Barbara hummed neutrally, rather pointedly not saying anything about the number of teenagers they'd had running solo around the Gotham underworld over the years, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's just the tip of the iceberg," she informed him, and she sounded much more interested now than she had when Jason had initially asked her to dig up information on the PI firm.

She flicked quickly through several police reports, her green eyes sharp as she studied them. "First of all, the kid seems to be pretty much the only one doing any real leg work for Red Bird Investigators. Draper's the one who handles digital communications with the police, and he's handled the press whenever their cases get enough attention to require it, but every time Red Bird shows up in an actual police report, it always seems to be Drake that they've run into."

Barbara paused rather than compete with the roar of a motorcycle as Batgirl came racing into the cave after her patrol, and she dropped a hand to the wheel of her chair so she could turn slightly, fixing a critical eye on her protegé.

Stephanie was rolling her eyes even as she pushed back the cowl. "Not a scratch on me," she yelled, hand cupped around her mouth, and flatly ignored the disapproving look that Bruce shot her. She'd been even more of an independent operator than either of the Robins that had proceeded her, and Jason knew it rankled for Bruce that she submitted so much more willingly to Barb's authority than his own.

"Just some nasty bruises then," Barbara said sardonically, voice pitched only a little louder than normal. The cave was quiet enough that that was all it took; Stephanie definitely heard her, but all she did was grin. It involved a lot of teeth.

Jason liked Stephanie, a lot. It was easier with her than it was with Dick or Bruce or even Barb, without any baggage between them from his previous life--despite the fact that there was plenty of baggage from this one. Luckily, Stephanie seemed to have decided against holding a grudge over his murder attempt at about the same moment as she'd fought through broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder to bash his face in with one of the steel chairs in the Titans' dining room.

They'd both laid there panting for a moment, Jason's vision swimming with the nastiest concussion he'd ever received, and called something of a truce. It was the last time he'd made the mistake of thinking Stephanie Brown was any less of a threat just because she'd lost a grip on her bo staff.

Jason shot her a lazy, two-fingered wave, and Stephanie fluttered her fingers back as she headed for the lockers. She was wasting no time, halfway to the door and already shedding her armor to reveal a sweat-soaked white tank top and a Green Arrow sports bra.

Bruce looked even more sour than he had a minute ago. Stephanie's reflection in the locker room door, just before she yanked it open, was bright with mischief.

Jason shook his head, trying not to look as amused as he felt, and turned back to the screen. "Okay, so Draper's... what? Riding his intern's coattails? Seems like a risky gamble to put a private investigation firm in the hands of a twelve year old."

"Drake's twenty," Barbara informed him.

"No fucking way," Jason said, flatly. Twelve was a joke, obviously, but--

"His identity, I can confirm," Barbara said, a delicate stress on the first word, and Jason's attention sharpened. So did Bruce's, over in Jason's periphery. Jason could tell by the sudden tension in his shoulders, even if his hands didn't falter as they fiddled with the retraction mechanism of the grappling gun.

"Mind your own business, old man," Jason shot over his shoulder, and Bruce just grunted.

Barbara turned fully back to the Batcomputer, and her long fingers flew across the keyboard as she pulled up a bunch of seemingly unimportant bits of paperwork. "Whoever put Draper's identity together did a good job. They covered their bases--school records, hospital records, employment records, even a social media presence, and all of it pretty convincingly done."

"Unless you're Oracle," Jason said.

Barb's lips twitched. "Unless you're me," she agreed. "Draper's identity would pass muster for most every legal entity that went poking around, but there's some small evidence of it all being faked."

"Is Red Bird some kind of front?" Jason asked, frowning. His eyes flicked over all of the records Barbara had pulled up, more for the sake of having something to do as his mind churned than out of the expectation of spotting something in just a few seconds that Barbara hadn't already seen. "Money laundering, maybe a blackmail operation?"

"I'm not sure yet," Barbara admitted. "Their hourly rates as a firm are shockingly low; it's pulling a lot of attention from your end of the city, attracting the kinds of clients who can't usually afford to hire a private investigator, and they seem to be doing good work. Tracking down missing kids, recovering stolen items, turning evidence over to the cops-- notably only to reputable ones-- when they turn up anything especially nasty or organized." She rolled her eyes. "Not to mention catching plenty of cheating husbands. But that can pretty much all be attributed to Drake; whatever else his boss may be caught up in, I'm confident he's not aware of it.

"I haven't done a deep dive yet. Right now," Barb said, as Batgirl reemerged from the locker room in a pair of sweats, chugging a bottle of water as she took the stairs two at a time up to the platform where Jason and Barbara were talking, "all I can tell you with certainty is that Alvin Draper isn't who he says he is."

Stephanie choked on her water, the bottle crashing to the floor as she spluttered and pounded on her own chest. "Did you just say Alvin Draper?" she managed to grind out, those dark blue eyes of hers wide with surprise, and Jason snapped around to look at her.

So did Barbara and Bruce.

"You know him?" Jason asked sharply.

Stephanie was staring up at the screen, her eyes darting over the information Barbara had pulled up, and then she made a strangled noise. For a second, Jason thought she was choking again--

Except then she was laughing so hard that she had to drop to a crouch, one hand on the railing to keep herself from tipping over completely when her foot slipped in the puddle of water still leaking from her bottle.

"Oh my god," she wheezed. "This is--Oh my god. I can't believe him--"

"Stephanie, if you wouldn't mind sharing the joke, please," Barbara said, a warning note in her voice, and Stephanie hiccuped, wiping tears off of her face.

"Yeah," she managed after a moment, pulling herself to her feet and breaking off in another choked off laugh. "Yeah, you could say I'm a little familiar with--yeah." She snickered, swiping at her cheeks again. "Uh, so, Tim Drake's the annoying creep who's been bothering you the last couple of nights, huh?" she asked Jason. Her voice sounded like Christmas, Hanukkah, and her birthday had all come at once.

"You know Drake, too?" Barbara asked. Her expression was flinty. "You never mentioned anything about working with any PIs."

Stephanie subsumed another giggling fit, talking more to herself than to them. "I should've fucking--oh my god, I should've known it was him as soon as Jason said he was a bit of a stalker." She took a deep breath, managing to get her voice more or less back to normal, and gestured dismissively at Babs. "I've mentioned him, just not by name. A lot falls under the category of 'trusted contacts.'" She wiped her eyes again, calming down even further. "Red Bird isn't some kind of criminal front," she promised. "And Alvin Draper is just-- well, okay, Tim is--"

She seemed suddenly cagey, her chin turning as if to glance over her shoulder at Bruce before she aborted the motion. "Okay," she said, and it was that casual, placating tone of voice that all of the Robins had perfected at one time or another. The "Really, Batsy, it's not that big of a deal" voice. Jason had never actually heard her use it before--by the time he'd reentered the scene, Stephanie wasn't the least bit shy about flaunting her disregard for Bruce's opinions.

"Okay, if I hadn't been caught so off guard I totally would not have handled this conversation this way," Stephanie told Barbara. "If I'm going to be honest, I did not intend to ever have this conversation. Tim would have given me away at my theoretical future wedding without a single one of you having any idea how we even knew each other. He'd probably have done it wearing a stupid wig and calling himself Maurice."

Barbara raised an eyebrow. Bruce was no longer pretending to be focused on anything else, a frown line etched firmly across his forehead.

Jason had no idea where this was going.

"Absolutely no chance you can just take my word for it and drop your suspicions about Red Bird?" Stephanie asked hopefully.

"Not in the fucking slightest," Jason told her.

Stephanie pressed her palms together and leaned her fingers against her lips for a moment, thinking, and then she dropped them, still far too casual to actually be casual. "I should set the stage for a second, because none of what I'm about to say is going to make sense if I just dive into it," she admitted, hands on her hips. "Jason, you know what what everyone-- what Bruce, specifically-- says about my reputation as Robin, right?"

"Ferocious," Jason said immediately. "Clever. Scrappy. Compassionate."

A smile twitched at the corners of Stephanie's eyes, but she told him, dryly, "Actually, the word I was thinking of was 'insubordinate.'"

Barbara rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, suddenly looking exhausted. Bruce, in the background, looked vaguely like he wanted to argue, but didn't actually have much of an argument to make.

"I mean, I've always been the master of back talk to the B-man," Stephanie said, and her expression-- her tone-- was somewhere between pride and guilt. "And I frequently ignored any and all instructions to keep my nose out of certain cases, unless I was given really, really thorough and convincing reasons why I should leave them alone. So yeah, my time as Robin was characterized by a lot of flaunting the rules."

She took a breath. "But the thing is that even with all of that," she said delicately, "Bruce does not actually know even a third of what I got up to as Robin."

Bruce finally spoke up. "I know more than you think I do," he said, with just a hint of amusement in his tone. "You found a lot of counsel in Barbara, thinking it was behind my back. She handled plenty of mishaps for you, but she certainly didn't keep as many of your secrets as you might have hoped. I didn't mind, since you were confiding in someone."

"Sorry, kid," Barb said.

"Yeah," Stephanie said impatiently, "I know Babs was ratting on me. I knew it then, too. Which is why I leaned on the fact that you all saw me as just a little bit silly when it came to boys, and I fed Oracle a number of thrillingly believable lies about sneaking around on patrol to make out with Boyfriend, without ever mentioning that Boyfriend was also a detective savant with a corkboard conspiracy map of the city and a freakazoid obsession with stalking mobsters and crime lords with his insanely expensive long distance night vision camera."

Jason blinked.

Bruce said, "What."

Stephanie shrugged. "I mean, we did also do a lot of making out, it was just usually on top of a rooftop across the street from some dudes whose noses I was about to break. Which, before you say anything about endangering civilians, I did all the muscle work; I never let Boyfriend anywhere near the fighting, even though he's been taking a bunch of martial arts lessons since middle school.

"And," she added sharply, cutting off Bruce's response, "before you say anything about endangering myself, I'd like you to remember that it's only been two weeks since the Ex-Robins Union collectively negotiated for amnesty regarding cases that occured during our days in the pixie boots, and if you break the terms of the contract in under a month then the Extreme Penalty Subclause is activated and Dick, Jay, and I get to decide on our response. Suggestions have included an official Titans Gotham team and the Outlaws getting open season on the Joker."

Stephanie and Jason high-fived as Bruce's mouth slowly shut.

"I told you that signing that contract without reading it was a bad idea," Barbara sighed. "Dick was being way too nonchalant about the whole thing."

Stephanie turned back to Jason and Barbara and waved a hand at the Batcomputer. "This is relevant because Tim Drake is Boyfriend, if this room full of detectives hadn't already made that leap," she told them. "Alvin Draper's one of his favorite aliases. He did not tell me about this because he knows how much fun I am going to make of him, but I know how that batshit little brain of his works, and that guy--" She jerked her chin at the alleged picture of Alvin Draper-- "is definitely an actor Boyfriend hired to pretend to be his boss. Hacking the New Jersey PI database and issuing himself a license is easy enough, but convincing anyone he's actually old enough to be in possession of it is literally impossible with that baby face of his." Stephanie mimed squinching his cheeks together.

"Which, for the record, fucking classic Boyfriend move, right here," she added, grinning. "He once hired a fake uncle to be his legal guardian when his parents died and he was too young for the judge to consider emancipating him."

Jason had no idea what was going on in Bruce or Barb's brains because they both appeared to be blue screening a bit, but all he could think was that it was official: Stephanie was hands down Jason's favorite Bat.

"You hid a whole ass vigilante from Batman for like six years," he said wonderingly.

Stephanie snorted. "Not a vigilante," she corrected dryly. "Boyfriend has no interest in dressing up in tights or kicking people's teeth in; he just likes detective work and hates cops. He mostly just does a lot of sitting on rooftops taking surveillance photos." She obviously couldn't resist adding, smugly, "But yeah, more or less. Cass couldn't even kiss Superboy without Bruce knowing about it, meanwhile I practically had Boyfriend hidden under my cape on every solo stakeout for a year straight, and no one ever noticed." She tapped a finger on the side of her nose, raising her eyebrows. "No small part of why I've refused to ever live in the Manor or the Clocktower."

"This is the first and only time I will ever acknowledge that the people who call you the greatest Robin have even a single leg to stand on," Jason told her.

She gave him a nod, lips twitching.

"That's probably why Boyfriend's being such a little bitch about working with you, by the way." Stephanie leaned back against the railing and crossed her arms over her chest. Her scars stood out, stark, over the bulge of her biceps. "You used to be his favorite Robin, but then you came back from the dead and tried to kill his ex. He took it pretty personal." She made scare quotes, rolling her eyes and pitching her voice up an octave mockingly. "'It's my responsibility to hold a grudge since you have no intentions of doing it yourself, Stephanie.'"

She shook her head, her tone suddenly serious as she added, "I couldn't begin to guess his motivations in trying to drag you of all people into one of his cases, but it's gotta be something important. I'd hear him out next time he approaches you."

"You trust him? Trust his judgement?" Jason knew she did, she'd pretty much just admitted that Drake was aware of her identity, but it still seemed prudent to ask.

"As implicitly as I trust Cass," Stephanie told him immediately.

High praise, Jason knew, but he could tell it wasn't all she had to say on the matter.

Stephanie was very still for a moment, her gaze flicking to meet Bruce's in the reflection of the metallic plating at the edge of the Batcomputer, and then she met Jason's once more. Her voice was quiet but steady as she told him, "You weren't here for it, but I know you know the gist of what happened during War Games, and that I've always been vague about how I got away from Black Mask. Nobody ever pushed because they thought it was just the trauma fogging my memory, and yeah, that's part of it, but keeping Boyfriend safe from the fallout was the other part. I didn't somehow manage to break myself out after Mask left me for dead; Tim tracked me down. He got me to Leslie."

Barbara sucked in a breath, sharp, through her nose. A muscle ticked in Stephanie's jaw. And Jason had never before seen that expression on Bruce's face when the subject of conversation had nothing to do with an explosion in Ethiopia.

Jason whistled, low and slow.

"So, yeah," Stephanie managed, a little stiff. "I trust him. He's an obsessive, scheming little weirdo as I'm sure you noticed, Jay, but it's all part of the charm. He's a brilliant detective, and he cares so much about everything. We've always make a good team; he's good at seeing the whole picture, I'm good at seeing the people in it." She grinned, wicked. "Plus, he taught me how to skateboard."

Barbara snorted at that, then immediately looked annoyed at herself, but Stephanie was already fist-pumping.

"I'm not gonna lie, despite my years long efforts to keep all of this a secret, I'm excited to finally talk about Boyfriend as something other than the abstract concept of my best friend who none of you except Cass were completely certain existed," she said cheerfully.

"Cassandra knew about this?" Bruce asked.

Jason was pretty certain that the threat of invoking the ERU contract was the only reason the Bat was managing to stay so calm. Collective bargaining worked, people.

"I have never successfully kept a secret from Cass in my life," Stephanie said, ruefully. "I'm fucked when she takes over Batman."

"And everyday of interacting with you pushes Bruce closer to that retirement," Barbara told her dryly. "I'm still processing this, Stephanie, so I'm not going to get on your case tonight, but you know that your union will not protect you from me. We will be having a conversation about what other secrets you've been keeping."

"Considering that your vigilante career began and ended entirely outside of--well, anyone's supervision, not sure you have a leg here, Barb," Jason pointed out.

"There's a reason I'm your protegé now," Stephanie said cheerfully, as her voice cracked on a yawn. "Anyway, I need to scoot. I can text you Tim's number if you want it, Jay."

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "Sure. I guess I'm probably never getting rid of him if even your annoying personality hasn't managed to drive him off sometime in the last six years."

Stephanie flipped him off, rolling her eyes, but she was laughing under breath as she leaned down to pick up her water bottle. "Oh," she said, far too casual once more, as she found some papertowels to use to dry up the puddle. "There is one more thing I should probably tell you guys about Tim."

"He's a vampire," Jason guessed, just as casual. He kept her in his periphery, sensing immediately that this was something that the Ex-Robins Union contract was not going to cover.

"Nope." She bundled up the dripping paper towels and walked over to toss them in the trash. The movement took her closer to the stairs up to the Manor.

Neither Bruce nor Babs had apparently gotten any better at recognizing the signs of a shifty Robin than they had been before the revelations of the last ten minutes, so it's up to Jason to abruptly dart between her and the stairs, cutting off her escape route.

"What do we need to know about Tim, Replacement?" he asked, pleasantly, as he loomed over her. Batgirl was a bad ass, undoubtedly, but Jason had three inches and at least fifty pounds of muscle on her. Plus, he was still in his body armor.

"Ah," Stephanie said, clapping her hands together, and Bruce finally seemed to clue in to the fact that he was really not going to like the next words that came out of her mouth.

"What did you do?" he asked flatly.

"I did not do anything," Stephanie fired back immediately. "It was Dick, actually, and the thing he did was a quadruple somersault that only three people in the world can do, or whatever. Notably," she said, thumb and forefinger pinched together as she took a step forward, away from Jason and away from the stairs, "Dick Grayson, of the Flying Graysons, can do that somersault. And, my, what did a nine-year-old Timothy Jackson Drake see on the news one morning, except Robin the Boy Wonder doing that exact same somersault."

"You're fucking kidding," Barbara said.

"Yeah," Steph said. "Tim knows the secret identities of literally every single vigilante in Gotham, even the ones not connected to us. It's a hobby of his."

And then she pivoted, the space she'd gained from that step forward giving her enough room to dive under Jason's arm and come up sprinting as she took the stairs three at a time.

now continued

[void-botanist]

Sheri: A Powerpoint Intro

It is here! A tiny bit of background: Sheri is sort of a companion to Triad, in the sense that it shows some of what happened to the other ex-heir to the Navaren throne, but it takes place after it (by at least 3 months). Also maybe someday I'll come up with a better title for it.

Anyway please enjoy this introduction to fantasy disaster gays.

[kyouka-supremacy]

bruh

[yuwuta]

*TEST DRIVE — YUUTA OKKOTSU

❝I WILL NEVER LEAVE BY YOUR SIDE, DON’T YOU KNOW YOU GOT A RIDE OR DIE

pairings. okkotsu/reader, uhhh implied maki/nobara and sort of itadori/fushiguro but that’s not so important for now

warnings, themes. non-curse/modern au, marriage of convenience au, i thought long and hard about who would fit this trope best and all i can say is that i didn’t really pick just one in the end, so if this spirals in a wedding/marriage playlist, you’ve been warned, um… sort of implied possessive behavior on yuuta’s end but it’s only teased for now :)

word count. 2.5k i can yap about him all day

playing. test drive/ariana grande, going crazy/exo, heart of glass/blondie, idea/taemin, tipsy/chloe x halle 

“I just heard the funniest joke from Inumaki,” Nobara says, welcoming herself into your apartment. You’re not surprised, and continue with your dessert preparations. Yuuji, to your left, spares her a wave, before going back to diligently preparing the vegetables. 

Maki is the only one to respond by turning slightly in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Nobara when she walks up to the island, “Since when do you think Toge is funny?” 

“Not usually,” Nobara admits, taking the neighboring open seat. She crosses her arms atop the counter, and squints at you, “But he surprised me this time.”

Your eyes fidget to Maki, who seems equally confused by Nobara’s unnerving stare, then to Yuuji, who appears none the wiser, because he happily chirps, “Well, I wanna hear it! Tell us, Kugisaki!”

“He said that it was soooo kind of you to share your anniversary date with Yuuta and have us all over for dinner,” Nobara drawls, “Then I got confused, of course—but then I thought, ‘Maybe they’re secretly together and I just didn’t know. Wouldn’t be a huge surprise.’”

You flinch at that, “What do you mean that wouldn’t be a huge sur—”

“This is the funniest part, though,” Nobara squints, “He said that you’re actually married, and he meant that today is your wedding anniversary. He was pretty convincing, though. He’s very committed to the bit—even challenged me to ask you at dinner, but I figured I’d straighten it out now,” she drawls, reaching over to steal a cucumber slice from Yuuji’s station, “You’re not actually married to Yuuta, right?”

You pause, for too long. Maki’s disbelief shifts from Nobara to you, morphing into a threatening glare that makes you chuckle nervously. Yuuji keeps turning his head between you and Nobara, waiting for one of you to crack. 

It’s not her. “Okay… define married,” you mumble.

Nobara all but jumps across the island, standing up and slamming her palms on the counter top. “What do you mean ‘define married’—there’s only one definition!” Yuuji frantically sweeps his preciously sliced vegetables out of her range. “You’re either married to Okkotsu or you’re not, which is it?” 

You pause again. Too long this time. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Maki says, “It’s true? Toge says that shit all the time, how he can ‘still hear wedding bells’ when you two are around. Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

“Wait, you’re married?” Yuuji quips, “Since when? You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“Okay, okay—enough!” you yell, taking a step back, “It’s… true, but it’s not what you think. Yuuta and I are legally married, but we’re not together together.”

Nobara reaches to flick you on the forehead, “What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means, we’re married on paper only,” you explain, strategically placing your knife in the sink, far out of Maki and Nobara’s reach. 

“Say more words,” Maki demands, “Now.” 

You sigh. Even Yuuji has paused his preparations, blinking at you with those big, wide eyes, and you know for sure there’s no way out of this now. 

“It happened four years ago. I—”

Despite being the one who asked you to say more, Maki is the first to cut you off, incredulous, “Four years? You’ve been married to that beanstalk for four years and neither one of you twigs thought to mention it?” 

“Maki, let her finish,” Yuuji pitches in for you, reaching a comforting hand out to your shoulder, “Maybe she was dying and needed Okkotsu-senpai to sign her insurance papers so the government didn’t sweep her away! I saw that in a K-Drama once,” he smiles proudly. Nobara pinches her face in disgust, immediately refuting and calling Yuuji an idiot for believing everything he sees on TV. 

“Honestly, that’s not too far off. I’m not dying—and neither is Yuuta,” you hastily correct the worried faces peering at you, “But he was sick as a kid, and long story short is something got fucked up with his insurance when his parents died. It wasn’t a big deal, at first, but it spiraled into a bunch of issues, the biggest being the threat of taking his parents’ house away from him.”

Nobara pulls back, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t Gojo just do something then? That idiot has more than enough money to spare for some petty hospital bill, even with twenty years of interest.” 

“He did,” you assure her, “But then the house became its own problem. His parents didn’t leave the deed in his name, and the community board tried to say that Yuuta had no assets and wasn’t a favored candidate for their neighborhood, even if he was their son.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Maki interjects. 

“Yeah, totally not fair,” Yuuji pouts, “That’s his dead parents’ house and they wanted him to prove himself?” 

“Pretty much,” you sigh, “Basically marriage is something that helped prove his eligibility… plus some doctored philanthropic donations on Gojo’s end, and letters of recommendation from Shoko and her co-workers.” 

Nobara tuts her bottom lip out. “I don’t know, I’m not buying it.” 

“No, it makes sense. I’m sure by now all his parents’ neighbors are a bunch of uptight, old heads who didn’t want some kid throwing parties nearby,” Maki argues, “But once they hear he’s a young, married, nurse with a side hustle in philanthropy, I’m sure those geezers welcomed him with open arms. Sounds like some shit my family would do, too.” 

Nobara hums, factoring in Maki’s evaluation. “Okay fine. Yuuta marries you, he gets his parents’ house back and probably commits insurance fraud too,” she settles, “But what about you?—You said this was mutually beneficial, so what did you get out of it?” 

You probably should talk to Yuuta about revealing all the details of your marriage to your friends, but you knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Yuuta’s parents’ death and the issues that came along with it weren’t a secret at the time, but your problems are something you kept private. It’s a miracle you’ve gone this long under the radar, and you know Nobara isn’t going anywhere with unanswered questions. 

“Permanent residency status,” you tell her, “Yuuta’s a citizen, so in marrying him, all my problems about finding a job in six weeks after graduation disappeared.” 

“But… you got a job?” Yuuji questions, head tilted. 

“Yeah, eventually, but I didn’t know I would, and it was either take that chance, or be forced to go back home, and my time was running out,” you reveal, twiddling your thumbs together, “Look, I would have said something at the time, but everyone had their own shit to deal with after graduation. I would have asked any one of you to marry me, but I knew Yuuta was the only one with a reason to say yes.” 

The kitchen falls quiet as the news sits with your friends. Nobara and Maki’s stern disbelief slowly morphs into empathy, and Yuuji’s bright eyes grow steely with concentration as he pieces your story together. 

Then he springs up, “Wait, I totally would have married you, senpai!” 

You laugh, a lightness easing its way back into the room. “Thanks, Yuuji,” you lean to give him a kiss on the cheek, but you’re met with Nobara’s outstretched palm instead. 

“Nuh-uh. Just because I think this marriage is insane doesn’t mean that I condone adultery.” 

“It’s not adultery. I told you, Yuuta and I are married on paper only—he’s free to date and kiss whomever he pleases, and so am I,” You roll your eyes, pushing her hand away and giving Yuuji a kiss anyway, which he happily accepts, sticking his tongue out in mockery at Nobara.

Maki scoffs, “Are we sure that Yuuta knows that?” 

“Of course he knows that.”

“So then why hasn’t he dated anyone?” Maki presses, eyes lowering into a teasing glare. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Who Yuuta does or doesn’t date isn’t really my business.” 

Nobara pulls at her hair, “Yes it is. You’re his wife.” 

“His contractual wife,” you correct. 

“Contractual?” 

“Wait—have Yuuta and Toge not totally kissed on several drunk, or am I the only one who saw that?” Yuuji interjects.

“No, that was you and Fushiguro,” Nobara says, “And nobody cares about you two right now.” 

You put a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, “I care about you, Yuuji. Please, tell us about your drunk escapades with our dear Megumi.” 

“Save it, Itadori,” Maki cuts in, crushing Yuuji’s bright demeanor, “You and Yuuta are way more pathetic. Keep talking.” 

“Since when do you even like to gossip?” 

“Since she met me,” Nobara gleams, proudly, “Now, keep going.” 

You give Yuuji an apologetic glance before continuing, “I just mean that by the end of this year, Yuuta and I can get amicably divorced without raising any suspicion. Our marriage can’t be contested as a sham, I’ll be eligible for citizenship and housing on my own, and all will be well.” 

It’s quiet again, for a moment. You bite your lip in anticipation. Ultimately, you knew that none of your friends would judge you and Yuuta for what you did, but it wasn’t exactly normal to marry your friends for legal benefits, and then hide your marital status from almost everyone you knew. Still, this conversation was going about as well as it could, until Maki starts laughing. 

Her laughter starts off quiet, then grows gradually, until it becomes concerning. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Maki actually laugh before—a few amused grunts, and occasional drunk giggles, yes, but full-on, blown laughter is a first. It’s scary, and as you glance at Nobara and Yuuji, you’re clearly not the only one worried. 

“You actually believe that he doesn’t feel anything for you—that’s rich,” she says through laughter, clutching her stomach, “God help you if you think you can just divorce him. You two are so fucked, you deserve each other.”

“Wait, speaking of rich, did you sign a prenup? Isn’t Yuuta totally loaded now that he’s a nurse and related to Gojo—I also don’t think that you’ll be able to divorce him that easily, but if you kill him, you could be an instant millionaire,” Nobara reasons. 

“That’s so shallow!” Yuuji exclaims, “Also, I’m a nurse, and I wouldn’t say I’m loaded.” 

“That’s because you’re not cute like Yuuta,” Nobara mocks, “If you were, then you’d make the big bucks.” 

“I’m cute!” Yuuji cries, turning to you, “I’m cute, right?” 

You reach to pat his head, “Yes, Yuuji, you’re very cute. And perfectly well off enough. Yuuta works inhumane hours for his money, don’t be like him.” 

“Itadori, you make, like, quadruple what the average person makes,” Maki reminds him, “You just spend it all just as quickly.” 

Nobara scoffs, “Which he can afford to do because he’s a nepotism baby.” 

“You just said I was poor and ugly, and now I’m a nepotism baby? Pick a story, Kugisaki!”

“I don’t have to pick shit. Nanami-san sponsors your entire life, and enables your bad spending habits,” she huffs, “Yuuta’s a nepotism nurse, too. In fact, you both make me sick.” 

“Okay, then by that logic Fushiguro is also a nepotism baby!”

“Well, duh. He’s, like, the poster child for nepotism babies all around the world.” 

You drown out Nobara and Yuuji’s argument, mulling over Maki’s words instead. Did she mean to imply that Yuuta would make your divorce difficult on purpose?—you don’t see why; Yuuta doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body, and it wouldn’t serve him any purpose. You didn’t sign a prenup, but you would never argue ownership over any of his assets, and you know that Yuuta knows that; he’d already given you so much, you would never try to take anything from him. 

In fact, getting divorced would only open more doors for him. You don’t know if Yuuta hasn’t dated in the past four years out of some lingering loyalty to your marriage, but if that was the case, then you don’t want to stand in his way for any longer than necessary, and you especially don’t want him to grow to resent you for it. He would no longer be unnecessarily bound to you; he’d be free, legally, to carry on with his life—you would be the only one indebted to him for his boundless kindness. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought much of your divorce throughout your marriage. You knew that after five years, you could get divorced without consequence, but you hadn’t pictured how that would go. The thought of it somehow messing with your relationship to Yuuta, and your mutual friendships makes your head hurt. Maybe you should have married Yuuji instead. 

“Are you kidding, Yuuta would have mauled him,” Nobara chuckles, “Plus he would have lost his childhood home.” You blink. Guess you said that last part out loud. 

Her words spark more bickering between her and Itadori, and this time you turn to Maki. It was evident that she was just as much in the dark as anybody else about your secret marriage, but, still, it seemed like she knew something that you didn’t. 

“Maki, does... you said I think that Yuuta doesn’t feel anything—then what does he feel?” 

Maki blinks, then shakes her head, “You clearly don’t know who you married. That’s for you and your husband to work out.” She continues, this time that same wicked laughter is back, “Just know that whatever your plan for divorce was, it’s not going to be that easy. Yuuta is stupid, clearly, but he’s not that dumb. At least, I hope not.” 

You pout, shoulders slumping. That was about the most cryptic and least comforting response a person could give, but you shouldn’t have expected more from Maki. Luckily, Yuuji moves to give your shoulders a comforting rub, forgoing Nobara’s exclamations of him being a homewrecking harlot. 

At this point, you can’t tell if their arguing or your overthinking is causing your headache. Maybe you should cancel this group dinner all together; there’s no way you and Yuuta won’t be the topic of conversation all night, and you’re not exactly looking forward to pairing Maki’s mystic messages with Toge’s public humiliation, unless you start consuming liquor now. 

Deciding that’s the best plan of action, you turn to your cupboards to reach for a bottle of wine, pawning off popping the cork to Maki when your phone buzzes, catching your attention. 

It’s a text from Yuuta, similar to one you’ve received on this day every day, for the past four years, with something a little extra tacked on this year. 

from: yuuta 🌟 — happy anniversary (and i’m not just saying that because the feds are watching) (＾∇＾) — cheers to us, and many more! 🖤

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: The Ones who got away.

A fic based off results for Funniest reason Bruce knew Danny

Bruce Wayne can still clearly remember the day he first met Daniel Fenton. It was while the two were at Gotham Acadamy, when Bruce was still steaming with rage and plans of vengence.

Daniel—or Danny to his friends—had moved to Gotham midway through Danny's sophomore year from a small town in Illinois.

Bruce was a year younger but was the only one around when Danny stumbled into the main office trying to find his classes. Apparently, the student assigned to give him a tour had only bothered passing along his schedule and letting him lose.

Bruce was supposed to be waiting for Alfred to pick him up (he thinks it was because he got into a fight or maybe someone tried to make fun of his parents? Bruce wasn't too sure) but figured walking the older boy to class was so much more enjoyable, especially with how cagy Danny seemed to be.

As they walked, Bruce could tell Danny came from a lower-class family. He may have been wearing Gotham Acadamy's uniform, but the fit was wrong. The cloth that made up his blazer pulled around his shoulders tightly and ended too far down his forearm. His pants were too long for his legs and held in place by a very determined belt. His shoes lacked the everyday shine and were scruffy from the mud.

None of that was overly obvious but to a school full of Gotham elities they could catch it at first glance. Bruce pointed it out, asking if he had gotten them from the donated box.

He hadn't meant it as an insult. Bruce was genuinely curious, but Danny took it as such. Before he could even blink, Danny had rounded on him and snared in his face.

"You got a problem with that!?"

"No," Bruce answered promptly, stunned by Danny's glowing eyes. He could have sworn they were glowing. A strage emotion started to grow in his chest as Danny crowed him more against the wall.

He would later describe the feeling as "mesmerizing:;" Bruce could not take his eyes off Danny's. "I was just curious."

Danny's eyes seemed to glow even more, casting Bruce's face in an emerald green shine. Or at least that's how Bruce remembered it. Maybe his memories of the encounter were not as reliable as one would hope.

For a moment, Bruce thought Danny would punch him. He hoped he would. Bruce had been so angry as a child after his parents' murders that he would gladly get into any fights at school. He liked it. It made his terrible, horrible thoughts stop when he gave into the rage and the violence.

But Danny didn't do that. Instead the older boy had lean back, closed his eyes and breath a few times though his nose. Then in a very obviously restained voice grunted out "Telling someone that thier clothes looked like it came from a donation box is not okay"

"Why?"

"Ancients, dude. It's rude."

"Why?"

Then, to Bruce's teenage shock, Danny was willing to spend almost an hour with him, explaining why people reacted the way they did to his words. Not even Alfred had been that patient with Bruce. It was the first time someone didn't make him feel terrible for not understanding the human thought process.

(Later when mental health awareness became more spoken about Bruce would learn he was not broken. He was just different. That was years away from this however)

After that, Danny found his class and made a fast friend willing to show him the rest of the way. It should have been their last interaction, and officially it was, but Bruce could not stop thinking of Daniel Fenton with his glowing eyes and strange restraint rage.

Bruce remembered that he got into fewer fights around that time. Alfred was overjoyed. He refrained from telling the aged butler that it was not because he had outgrown his urge for combat but because he was too busy sprinting as fast as he could across the campus between classes in hopes of catching a glimpse of Danny. They were in different years, classes, and lunch times and ran through different circles.

The two rarely crossed paths.

But that didn't stop Bruce from wanting to see him. He just wanted to see if the glowing eyes were real or just a trick of his young—and smitten—mind.

This was long before Batman, which means Bruce wasn't as sneaky as he thought. In fact, by the end of Danny's second month at Gotham the older boy had developed a sense of Bruce's lurking.

Danny could pick him out in a crowd no matter where he was. It would have been thrilling if the rest of the student body hadn't noticed.

Danny being from a poor family, only attending Gotham Acadamy through scholarship, singled him out. Bruce Wayne- the school madman- following him around only made things worse for Danny.

Before long bullies rounded around the transfer, and while things rarely got physical it didn't mean that they made things easy for Danny. He gain a school nickname, whispered between laughter and mocks when the teachers' backs were turn.

Freaky Fenton.

Danny obviously thought Bruce had something to do with this; after false rumors of Bruce being the one to start that horrid nickname, whatever goodwill the older boy held for him soured. Bruce tried so hard to explain that it wasn't him, but rumors spiraled faster than he could keep up and soon Danny hated the very sight of him.

Danny would respond with harsh hisses whenever he tried to approach the boy. It was a bit shocking to hear such a sound come out of a boy so pretty—and pretty he was. By the time they graduated, Danny had left the Academy as " best-looking."

It was the kind of sound Bruce would find in a snake or a feral cat. He quickly backed away, unsure why that sound made his heart race. Danny took it as a surefire way to get rid of Bruce.

Over the following three years, he would be subjected to Danny's hissing. The bullying that Danny suffered through eventually stopped when people grew bored, and when Danny hit a later puberty that made almost everyone choke on their spit.

Bruce was sad that he could only see the other from far away. He eventually had to move on, aware that it would never happen between them. Danny graduated and returned to Amity Park, Illinois, vanishing from Bruce's life.

That's when Bruce met Harvey Dent. The two grew to be fast friends and shared a desire to better Gotham. They became fast friends at their college orientation after noticing they were each wearing a "just donated" sticker for the blood drivethat same morning.

Bruce and Harvey were inseparable, where one was, and the other was not too far away. Life was full of comfortable company, able to get excited about things without having to wear a mask and exploring the world to all the wonderful new horizans Harvey showed him.

His friend believed in wonder and spontaneous adventure that blended well with Bruce's careful planning and weariness. Eventually, they even moved into the same dorm because they practically already did with how often they spent the night in each other's place.

They went through their basics, cheered when they got accepted into law and medical school, and spent every holiday at each other's hips. Harvey was the first person Bruce told he may be attracted to boys (even before Alfred), and Bruce was the only one who knew why Harvey woke up in a cold sweat, a scream in the back of his throat, and the wild, untrusting looks he gave alcoholics.

Harvey was the light to Bruce's darkness. Unsurprisingly, he gave in to the urge to hold that light one night and leaned over to press his lips against Harvey's. His friend had sighed against his lips and pressed back, muttering about wanting to do so since the first time he saw Bruce.

When this happened, the public wasn't the most accepting, so Bruce and Harvey kept their romance confined in their dorm, but it was the happiest he ever felt. Harvey, because a love affair of this kind could ruin any chances he had to crawl out of the hole his dysfunctional family put him in, and Bruce's status would plummet if the newspapers ever caught wind, making his company lose thousands.

They both agreed it was better to be friends with benefits. A secret.

Harvey was almost worth delaying his training and not becoming Batman. Almost.

Bruce's mission, however, could not be stopped, and with a heavy heart, he dropped out of medical school and ended the secret with Harvey. Two hearts broke that day, Bruce's for leaving and Harvey's for not asking him to stay.

His training took him out of the USA, but he would fly back between masters to check up on Alfred and Harvey. Life went on, and Harvey continued to awe his classmates with his sharp mind and top grades. Alfred kept Wayne Manor in order, waiting for him, and Bruce studied everything he could get his hands on in preparation for Gotham's justice.

Then he met the Al Ghuls, and all his visits were gone. Thankfully, he was allowed to send and receive letters once a month. According to his postcards, his friend had gotten a new roommate—one who was just as kind and as great a friend to Harvey.

Bruce had no right, but a part of him ached that Harvey may have found a new secret—someone to curl against with the radio playing softly in the background, someone who would enjoy Harvey's amazing cooking.

Then he realized that it was for the best. He wished them well.

When his training ended two years later, Harvey was in his final year at Law school. He still lived with that same roommate, and so Bruce figured he might as well stop for a visit.

Batman was set to debut that weekend. He wanted one last hurrah before he sold his soul to the city.

His heart fell to his knees when Daniel Fenton opened the door to Harvey's dorm with a smile. Apparently, he had returned from Amity and was also seeking a law degree.

He was Harvey's new Secret. It was easy to tell with the way they danced around each other, and what was worse was that Danny didn't recognize him until Harvey had yanked him inside with a cheer of his name.

"What a small word" Danny laughed. "Can't believe you know my high school Not-Bully"

"Daniel, I never-" Bruce starts, knowing Harvey's eyes have narrowed. He has never been one for bullies.

"I know," Danny cuts him off with a small apologetic smile. "I know that now, Bruce. I'm sorry I was a dick to you in high school. I should have verified where those stupid rumors came from, but school was tough."

"Yeah, poor Bruce always puts his foot in his mouth." Harvey laughs, punching his arm. For a moment, it feels like no time has passed, but then Harvey pulls away to wrap an arm around Fenton's waist.

Danny's eyes widened in shock, but Harvey calmed him down by explaining that Bruce was like them. Blue eyes- blue, weren't they green in Bruce's memories?- warmed and dinner is served.

Dinner is great—so great that Bruce comes back the next day and the next and the next, and then he suddenly spends far too much time at their dorm.

He can't help it; Bruce Wayne was never known for having self-control. But like walking around with broken bones from his nighttime activities, he learns to grind his teeth and bear through the pain.

Harvey and Danny will buy a house together in the meantime.

[unstable-samurai]

The Shy Nerdy Best Friend is Actually Pretty Cool... and Hot

Minnie x Male Reader

one-shot

tags: friends to lovers, fluff, Confession, babying, drunk reader, penetration, blowjob, cumshot...

You don't remember much from that night. One of the few alcohol-induced blackouts you've had in your life, with fragmented memories blurred like a distant dream, some real, others not. Vague, like the first memory of your childhood, but not as special. Based on what Minnie said, you were brought to her house by some of your "friends" after drinking all you could at a stupid party you didn't even want to go to. The idea was for Minnie to take care of you, 'cause, in the condition you were in, staying alone at home was risky and, well, none of your "friends" - and these were their words - would act like your "mother"...

except for her...

The doorbell rang around 09:30 PM.

She answered the door with curious astonishment, probably having been asleep when this hurricane of voices hit her door.

"He's all yours!" said one of your friends, pushing you towards Minnie.

"HEY, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?!" she asked alarmed. "... What happened to him...?"

"He's drunker than the devil. We brought him here for you to keep an eye on him," said the other friend, the one who drove to Minnie's house.

"Me?!"

"Of course. We're not his mom to take care of the guy." They looked at each other and laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world. "You've done this before, right?"

"No. Last time he was sick. I don't know how to take care of a drunk person!" she tried to explain while using all her strength to keep you upright.

The problem was that you weighed almost twice as much as she did.

"Great. It's practically the same thing!"

"We're going back to the party! Tell him to call us tomorrow. See you later, babe!" he said, ironically, of course.

"Hey... are you okay?" Minnie asked you.

"Your hair is all messy," you said, messing up her hair even more.

"I was napping on the couch. And you're a complete mess. But let's get inside, you weigh more than a bull!"

You put your arm around Minnie and dragged yourself into the house with her. She helped you sit on the couch; your head was spinning and everything seemed terribly distant. When you looked at Minnie, she seemed to be staring at you, but you weren't sure. In your state, even her action figures seemed to be watching you.

"I think I'm bothering you. I am, aren't I?" you asked. "I can go home. I can walk just fine."

You made a motion to get up.

"Sit down, idiot!" she said, pushing you back onto the couch. "It's okay. I'm just worried about you. Did you take any drugs?"

"Hmm, I don't think so," you replied, terribly sincere.

She brought you a glass of water. While you were drinking, she asked:

"I tried to talk to you several times today. I called and texted you. I thought we were going to marathon that stupid Hobbit trilogy.”

"Looks like I had better plans," you replied sarcastically.

"Uh-huh, it seems so..."

"Can I lay my head on your lap? I want you."

You didn't notice, but she blushed.

"Alright, I guess."

You laid your head on her lap and closed your eyes. Minnie started to gently stroke your hair.

"You should stop going to those parties. There's nothing good about them. And your friends always abandon you at the end of them."

"I wished you were there with me," you confessed.

"You know I don't like parties. And if I went, your friends would probably just laugh at me if I were there."

"That's true. It's really true. Damn, it's a damn truth... I think I drank to try to forget about you a little." You revealed suddenly. "I was feeling bad for breaking my promise to you."

"Why didn't you want to come?"

"I've been a little irritated with you lately."

"Why? What did I do?! I'm sorry! ... But what did I do?"

You laughed like an idiot.

"Your way, your tastes, your clothes, your voice, your smell irritate me... man, the list is long."

She immediately stopped stroking your hair.

"Oh... got it."

"All of that irritates me because I... because I love all those things about you and I can't admit it. It irritates me that you're perfect... in a good way. Sorry. "You hugged her around the waist, hiding your face in Minnie's belly, who stood paralyzed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"You're so good to me while I treat you terribly. I wish I were a better guy." You commented, sounding like an embarrassed confession.

"No, no! You treat me so well! You're so sweet to me."

"No... it's just... when I'm with my friends, they make jokes about you and say I hang out with you just to get easy sex or whatever... The problem is I never raise my voice to defend you, I just sulk or change the subject like a damn coward. No one should talk about you like that... Damn, I think I'm going to vomit!"

"Ew! Don't vomit on me!”

You stumbled to your feet and Minnie guided you to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the toilet in time, avoiding vomiting all over her bathroom.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

You waited for the sound of the toilet flushing to pass, then replied, "You could have held my hair while I was puking. Where are your manners?"

She chuckled and sat against the bathroom wall.

"You're such an idiot, you know."

"Do you still want to watch The Hobbit trilogy?"

"It's already too late, and besides, in your state, you wouldn't be able to focus on staring at a wall for 1 minute."

"I guess you're right."

"Hey, seriously, you should stop hanging out with those guys. They're not your real friends."

"I just hang out with them, you know, so I'm not alone."

"You have me."

You silently observed Minnie for too long, making her start to feel uncomfortable. You tried to think of something good to say to her, something that would make her feel better, because, well, after revealing that those guys were mocking her behind her back, it was the least you could do.

"Is that Tweety?" you asked, pointing to her blouse.

"Yep! Do you like it?"

"It looks like you. The glasses and all. It's pretty cute. Do you think I could get a Tweety shirt?"

"Finding a male Tweety shirt for you will be tough."

"No problem. I'll definitely look better in that baby tee than you, no offense. By the way, is Tweety male or female?"

"Tweety is male!"

"Ah, I never noticed."

"Hey, I was serious when I said you have me. You like me, right? We're friends?"

"Minnie you are my best friend, please."

"Then it doesn't make sense you to hang out with people who are constantly mocking me. Now that you've said that, I won't accept you continuing to be friends with them and me at the same time!" she protested.

"Hmm... Okay. That's fair. I'll kill all of them for you."

"I'm serious. You're going to have to choose between me or them."

"I choose you. You, Minnie."

You clumsily crawled over and hugged her, squeezing her small body against yours, which was one of your favorite feelings.

"Okay, okay. I get it! But I don't think this is the most hygienic place for us to hug." Minnie helped you to your feet. "Go take a shower and see if you can get rid of that vomit breath.”

“If I do everything right, do I get a kiss?”

“No way! You’re drunk. In the morning, I want you saying all this to me again. If it’s really true, then tomorrow will be a very special day for me…”

“I love you, Minnie,” you whispered, looking into her eyes. “I want to be your man so badly. It even makes me feel like crying when I think about it.”

She playfully tapped your chest and pushed you away, giggling nervously.

“I love you too. I really do,” she said with a shy smile. “I’ll get some clothes you left here for you to wear. Please don’t slip in the bathroom because I won’t have the strength to lift you.”

"I'm not an idiot to slip in the bathroom."

"But you can act like one sometimes." she said, before closing the door.

"Do you want to play Mortal Kombat?" you asked Minnie as she dried her hair with the hairdryer in her room.

"WHAT?!"

"I asked if you want to play Mortal Kombat!" You said, now louder. "This darn hairdryer sounds like a jet engine!"

She turned it off.

“If I beat you while sober, imagine drunk as you are now. No, you need to eat. Soup will be good for you."

"Cup Noodles, that's it!"

"No! Real soup. Light and with vegetables. I actually ordered some."

"Ah," you grumbled disheartened. "I've lost my appetite."

"But you're going to eat!"

"Fine, fine! If you insist... Hey, is that a Smurf on the table?"

"My goodness, you look so lost when you're drunk. Like your brain has shrunk," Minnie said casually, trying to hide a laugh. "That's a Squirtle. And you're the one who gave it to me as a gift."

"This is actually quite offensive on your part. I'm sharper than most drunks."

"Aw, don't be offended." She pinched your cheeks like a baby. Minnie was definitely taking advantage of the fact that you were drunk.

And in a way, you thought she was entitled to it.

Once again in her lap, you ended up discovering that night that this was your favorite place. Warm and protected from any harm. And even intoxicated, sparks of lucidity allowed you to see through the smoke that hovered over your mind. No, better than that, it allowed you to feel the security that Minnie had when she was by your side, singing "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles to you. And singing was something she didn't do around anyone; insecurity and shyness prevented her from doing so. In this way, she hid one of her greatest talents because she sang in an angelic manner, extremely comfortable with her own voice, sounding good without any instrument to accompany her. The fact was that if it weren't for the headache, you would have been sure you were in a sublime dream.

"That was the best lullaby I've ever heard," you murmured.

"I thought you were already asleep."

"Sing more."

"No, that's enough. You need to sleep."

"I want to hear you sing every night," you said, and Minnie laughed because you wore a silly, goofy smile. Apparently, your facial expressions weren't entirely under control.

"I hope I can sing to you every night. Just for you." Minnie slid her finger slowly across your nose, watching you with an enigmatic expression. She took advantage of the fact that your eyes were closed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh-huh... sure," you mumbled.

"Have you always been ashamed of me? Regardless of your answer, it won't matter because you're drunk."

You immediately stood up from her lap, feeling dizzy and alarmed, but rational enough to say:

"I want you to meet my parents, Minnie. Um, I was planning to tell you tomorrow, after you agreed to be my girlfriend. So consider this a little spoiler. I want to hold your hand and have the right to call you 'mine.'"

"Do you swear?" she asked, her lips trembling.

"Yes. All this time, the girl of my dreams has been right by my side, and I ignored it. My face is red with embarrassment now. From tomorrow onward, I'll make it up to you, and if you give me a chance, I'll make you feel special every day. Just as you deserve."

"Besides bad jokes and terrible taste in movies, you're also quite good at romance. God, I wish I could kiss you right now..."

"Okay, so I'll do it in your place. Excuse me, I'm going to kiss your forehead," you said, leaning closer to her.

Amid giggles, she asked: "What are you doing?"

"If you'll allow me..." You lifted Minnie's bangs as if checking her temperature and then planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

"You're such a goof, my goodness."

"And I'm also crazy about you."

"Let's hope these things still hold true tomorrow," she remarked, and you saw her eyes sparkle for you. "I want to believe..."

"Wait, was that an X-Files refer-?"

"Yep!" In fact, she said it by chance. "You're definitely sharper than most drunks."

“I told you, I told you!”, you exclaimed like a child.

The bedroom curtain wasn't fully closed, so a beam of light at 8:30 AM came through the window and hit your eyes, warming your skin until it became unbearable, and you opened your eyes to the whitish view of Minnie's room. Your vision returned to normal as your mind assimilated the facts. How the hell did I get here? And why am I in Minnie's bed? Oh, and It was strange for you to be in her room because when you slept at Minnie's house, you usually slept on the couch. It was hard to recap the events of the previous night, but they came to your mind in the following way:

I went to the party.

I was sad because of confusing feelings.

I drank.

I drank.

I drank.

I drank a lot.

Some of my "buddies" took me to Minnie's house.

She took care of me. Again.

Hmm, yeah, things probably happened this way or a similar version of it.

You looked at the clothes you were wearing. It definitely wasn't that stupid Zelda shirt you wore to the party.

Holy crap. Could it be that Minnie helped me change my clothes?

You felt completely embarrassed and afraid to find out what happened the previous night.

‘Don’t be an idiot and face it like a man.’

Words from your father when the two of you talked earlier that month about your internal conflict over admitting your romantic feelings for a particular girl. He didn't care about most of your problems, but this one irritated him. Your ridiculous concern about others' opinions on your life, your girl, who you should date... And staying silent in the face of offensive comments about your friend... He almost threw that beer in your face. If you don’t confess your feelings to this girl, then another man will, and then it will be too late. And I don't want you here ruining my Sunday afternoon because of your stupidity. He didn’t know how to say things without sounding like a retired army colonel, but you thought you deserved to hear those words in that exact tone. The time had come to put your old man's advice into practice. You quietly left the room and went to the bathroom to wash your face. From the noise, Minnie was in the kitchen cooking something. It wasn’t in your plans to confess your feelings to her with a horrendous hangover face, but damn it, you hoped she loved you for what you had inside: guts and true feelings for her.

When you got to the breakfast table in the kitchen, there was a plate of scrambled eggs, a cup of coffee, and warm toast waiting for you. Minnie was wearing an adorable overall and a gentle smile was on her face. You loved this morning view and wished it could be like this every morning.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?" she asked, sitting at the table.

"I slept well," you said timidly.

"Come on, eat your breakfast." She insisted, and you joined her at the table.

"And you? Did you sleep well? You know I could have slept on the couch."

"Nah, you needed a real rest. Besides, the couch isn't that bad."

"Sorry for ruining your night."

"I saved you yesterday, you'll save me tomorrow," she said cheerfully. "Are you feeling okay?"

"My head hurts a bit, but just being conscious is a relief... By the way, you didn't change my clothes, did you?"

She put her hand to her mouth in a mock expression of shock.

"Oh my God! How do you remember this?"

"Oh, man! Fuck!"

"Just kidding! You changed yourself like a big boy!" she revealed, laughing at your reaction.

"Thank God!"

After breakfast, you helped her wash the dishes and clear the table. There was a moment of rest when you both went to the living room, the glorious morning light shining renewed, somehow lifting your spirits and giving you a bit of courage.

"Listen, Minnie, I'm not sure what I said or did yesterday. I have a feeling I might have dropped a bomb on you because I noticed you seemed a bit off during breakfast."

"I'm just a little anxious."

"I need to tell you that I've been in love with you for a while. And I've been feeling bad for not treating you the way you truly deserve. You might say it's no big deal, but to me, it is. It's something that causes me anguish, and now I want to change that if you'll give me a chance." You held Minnie’s hands, her eyes reflecting the hope in her heart, your actions feeling right and natural, without shame or hesitation in saying: "I love you, Minnie."

"I love you too. I think I've loved you since that day we shared an umbrella while walking back from the movies. You and I walking together in silence, our shoulders occasionally touching, and the rain falling around us... Oh, and you looked so handsome that day.”

"Minnie... Can I kiss you?"

You and Minnie started kissing on the couch, desire and emotion burning uncontrollably between you. Your lips met with a mix of nervousness and passion, the first kiss an electric shock that coursed through your body. She was the girl of your life, there was no doubt anymore. The reciprocity was a wet and intense response, a kiss with your tongues intertwining as you both had secretly longed for. Her hands began to explore your body, sliding over your muscles with a provocative softness. "I've wanted this for so long," she whispered against your lips, her voice laden with desire. The room seemed to heat up with the energy emanating from you, also radiant with the morning sun, the birds singing outside, and the tension between you dissolving as you surrendered to the moment. Your bodies moved closer and closer, the excitement growing with each touch and sigh.

As the kisses heated up, the intensity increased, and you lost your balance, falling off the couch in a tangle of bodies. "Oh, wait, my glasses!" Minnie exclaimed, and you gently took off her glasses and placed them on the couch. "You still look handsome, even slightly blurry," she said.

On the floor, your hands were eager, sliding over Minnie's body as you pulled down one of her overall straps, revealing the warm, soft skin beneath. With a quick movement, you removed the other strap, leaving her in just her striped top and bra. Minnie let out a low moan as she felt your firm hands lift her top, slowly exposing her small breasts covered by the bra. You pulled the bra straps down, freeing her breasts, and immediately began to play with them, sucking and squeezing them with a mix of softness and firmness. "Oh, yes, keep going," she murmured, her eyes closed and head thrown back, deliberately feeling the heat of your mouth against her skin. Her sighs filled the room, each touch and moan intensifying the excitement. Her skin was soft and fragrant, and the sensation of her nipples hardening under your tongue was very, very good.

After dedicating yourself to Minnie's breasts, you slid your lips down her abdomen, pulling her overall down a bit more. Your tongue traced a slow, teasing path, exploring the sensitive skin of her belly. "You're so hot, Minnie," you murmured between kisses, your voice full of desire for her. Minnie moaned softly, her hips moving involuntarily as you continued to adore her. "Lick me more, please," she whispered, her face flushed with excitement. Your lips and tongue explored every inch of her belly, each touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. The combination of gentle kisses and sensual licks made Minnie gasp with pleasure, her body arching with each new stimulus. "Mmmm, I love it when you do that," she moaned, her voice sweeter than ever.

You took off your stupid Zelda shirt (hoping Minnie hadn't focused too much on it). When it came time to take off your underwear, Minnie took charge, deftly pulling it off and tossing it aside without hesitation. She looked at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes before wrapping her lips around your cock. "I always knew you had a big cock; I could see how it bulged in some of the pants you wore," she revealed. Somehow, Minnie's sudden confidence made her even sexier, and your arousal ridiculously uncontrollable. The warm, wet sensation of her mouth around you was overwhelming, each movement of her tongue making your whole body tremble with pleasure. The sounds of sucking and Minnie's muffled moans filled the living room, a rhythm so pleasurable to hear. Watching her alternate between gentle and intense movements, driven by such devotion, was... beautiful, an erotic work of art for your eyes. Her lovely lips wrapped around your cock with such need, her hands caressing your thighs with so much care and love, Minnie's eyes never leaving yours. Her hair was loose, the perfect invitation to grab it and thrust your cock against Minnie's throat, helping to make it even wetter.

Minnie begged you to fuck her, feeling increasingly aroused. You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the couch as she finished taking off her clothes.

"Is this your first time?" you asked.

"No. I actually used to see a guy back in college; we had sex a few times, but he was terrible... You're suprised?"

“Oh, no. Maybe a little. Bu- Hmm, well, do you happen to have a condom?"

"I'm the last person who would have condoms at home," she said with a silly laugh. “But I think from now on this will change.”

The moment you were sharing became more intense and intimate, and Minnie, feeling increasingly aroused, noticed how wet her pussy was. She decided to heighten the sensation, rubbing your cock between her pussy lips, moaning softly with each movement. "My god, I'm so wet for you," she whispered, her voice full of lust. Minnie began to slap your cock against her pussy, each hit making her moan louder. "Look how my little pussy is dripping, babe..." she teased, her eyes fixed on yours, full of desire. You couldn't resist; you grabbed your cock and started slapping it against Minnie's pussy. "Oh, yes... hit it hard..." "Fuck, this feels so good, Minnie." The contact between you increased the sexual tension, Minnie's moans becoming louder and more frequent. "My pussy is begging for you, babe," she said between sighs and moans. The friction between your bodies made the desire grow almost unbearably, leaving her even more excited and ready for the next step: Minnie finally slid your cock inside her, letting out a deep moan of pleasure. "Oh, yes, this is so good," she exclaimed, starting to ride you with rhythmic movements. The sensation of being inside her was indescribable, each pulse of excitement increasing your pleasure. Minnie moved with an intensity that made your whole body vibrate, her moans blending with yours. "You make me feel so good," she murmured, Minnie's hands resting on your chest as she rode faster and faster. Her petite body over yours, consumed by genuine passion for you and your cock.

The atmosphere between you reached its peak as Minnie continued riding you with fervor, her movements becoming more frantic as the climax approached. "I'm gonna cum... oh, I'm gonna cum so hard," she screamed, her eyes closed and her face contorted with pleasure. You could feel the heat and wetness around your cock as she rode faster and faster, her body trembling with excitement. "Yeah, come on, come for me, baby!" you said, panting, and with a final scream of pleasure, Minnie finally came, her body shaking violently as she fell apart on top of you. Sweat dripped from your bodies, your heavy breathing a testament to the intensity of the moment. She relaxed on you, completely spent, her eyes meeting yours with a satisfied and exhausted look, the glow of pleasure still reflecting in her pupils. The connection between you proved to be real; if the declarations, looks, and gestures weren't conclusive enough before, now every sigh and touch reaffirmed the intensity of the shared experience that only two people in love can feel.

But

Despite Minnie's intense orgasm, you still hadn't cum. Realizing this, Minnie smiled mischievously and murmured, "I'm going to make you cum now." She lifted herself for a moment, only to sit back down on your cock, her body still trembling with residual pleasure. Minnie began to grind intensely, her movements desperate and full of fervor. Your moans interspersed with your panting breath, your eyes closed, completely sedated by the sensation and the imminent explosion, still focused on not coming inside her. A lethal adrenaline rush. "Cum for me... please, cum for me," she begged, her voice broken by desire and urgency. "Oh, fuck, oh god! I don't know how much longer I can hold on, babe..." Minnie said, her words and the movements of her hips creating an irresistible mix of pleasure and pressure.

Then, the intensity of Minnie's movements, combined with her words, pushed you to the edge. Feeling the climax approaching, you announced, "I'm gonna cum, Minnie,"

Fuck…Her eyes shining with excitement… She got off you and begged: "Cum on my face... I want all your cum on my face." You quickly got up, your body trembling with anticipation. Minnie knelt in front of you, looking up at you with a gaze full of expectation and desire. With a final grunt, you stroked your cock rapidly and ejaculated onto her, the hot, pulsing jets covering her face. Minnie closed her eyes, moaning as she felt every drop, a smile of pure satisfaction forming on her lips, blending her shyness, naughtiness, and cuteness.

The room was filled with the smell of sex and sweat, the atmosphere still vibrating with the energy of the intense connection you shared. Minnie, still on her knees, wiped a drop of cum from the corner of her mouth, her expression one of deep and exhausted satisfaction.

With a loving gesture, you placed Minnie's glasses back on her face, your fingers sliding gently across her skin. "You don't know how beautiful you are now,” you whispered.

Your eyes met, sparks of desire still dancing between them. With a soft smile, you pulled her close and kissed her passionately. Your lips met in a final act of surrender to the intense passion that had consumed you both, the salty taste of your cum mixing sweetly and intimately between you...

And a couple of little yellow birds on the windowsill were silent witnesses to the newly blossomed passion.

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 3.8k

♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.

♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.

♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!

No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.

The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.

Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.

It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.

Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.

Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.

──

"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.

"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.

"Not really-"

"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.

A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.

You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.

"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.

He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"

"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.

She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"

"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"

"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."

"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.

"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."

"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"

"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.

As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.

Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.

She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."

"Whoa, he's tall."

"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.

He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.

Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."

He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"

As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.

In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.

Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.

"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.

"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.

As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.

You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.

"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.

Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."

Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.

You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.

"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.

"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.

"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.

In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.

And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.

You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?

"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."

"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.

"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.

You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."

The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.

"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."

The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.

"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.

Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.

"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.

The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.

As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"

With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.

He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.

"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."

You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.

"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."

"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.

"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."

Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.

For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.

His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"

The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.

You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.

But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."

And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."

Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"

Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.

"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."

He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.

With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.

"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."

Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"

You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"

You answered it, "Hey, Brie."

"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."

You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."

"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."

"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."

"Love you."

She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."

"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.

"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.

You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.

As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sweetcandyhigh]

Sending the randomest shit to a pre-relationship Megumi would be the funniest thing. I mean this would before he even realized he had feelings or that you had feelings for him. The poor guy was clueless. And you thought it was hilarious.

Let’s start this off by saying you and Megumi were close, but so were all of you guys, it was a tight nit circle. But Megumi was just different than the rest. So you spent a lot of time together, and texting when you couldn’t be.

So one night you guys as well as Itadori and Nobara were sitting in Megumi’s dorm (the cleanest), just lounging have some random ass conversations. And a few minutes later Megumi was picking up his phone, seeing a message from you. With a raised brow he looked at the simple blue heart emoji you sent, with the most weirded out face you had ever seen him make. Which in turn caused you to burst out laughing getting a few looks from the other two.

Another encounter of this was when you were training. A lax a daisy school day, sparring with each other and some of the 2nd years. And Megumi looked stunning, sweaty and running his hands through his hair every few seconds had you salivating. This garnered another one of your unfiltered texts, and while you knew what you could and couldn’t get away with, you always teetered on that line.

So a “God Damn” text was sent his way. Course he didn’t see that until a few seconds later where he pulled up the bottom half of his uniform top up to wick away the sweat from his face. His eyes went wide as he gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read, a giggle fallin from your lips.

This had happened so many times Megumi decided to enlist Itadori’s help, confused as to what you were getting at. “Itadori,” his calm voice called out, maybe one of the only times he said his name without being irritated with his fellow classmate. The pink-haired teen’s ears perked up, “Yeah Fushiguro?” He called looking up only for a phone to be shoved in his face. Megumi wasn’t good at asking for help and this was the closest it was gonna get, “Read.”

As Itadori’s eyes filtered over the messages a smirk resonated on his face, “I don’t know man, seems like she’s into ya,” he said with a way too toothy grin. Megumi’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “Not possible,” he huffed out causing Itadori to snicker, “I’m telling you dude that’s what it is.”

And from that day on Megumi was a little too aware of everything you did around him, the dots connecting in his head. But how did he feel about this? He had no clue, absolutely none.

That’s when he went to Nobara, once again someone he wouldn’t normally go to. “Nobara?” He called out the same way he did Itadori’s name, and her ears perking up the same way. “Oh?” She said with a soft snicker, causing Megumi to roll his eyes. Once the situation was explained Nobara’s brow never stopped being raised, “So?” She grumbled eliciting a groan from Megumi, “How am I supposed to feel?”

She shook her head, a tsk coming from her mouth, “Now cmon on Megumi, you’d be passing up a great chance with em.” His brows raised before shaking his head, “That’s not what I’m asking.” Nobara was now the one groaning, “Look, I can’t tell you how you feel, but I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

And let’s just say Megumi was even more confused when he left that conversation, and it didn’t help when he bumped into you. His face was beet red, one of the only time you had seen him like that. “Everything ok Gumi?” His heart fluttered as he nodded, words caught in his throat. “Wanna hang out?” You tilted your head, his heart fluttered once more as he nodded. You smiled, happy he was gonna hang out with you, and his heart fluttered once more.

Let’s just say Megumi never thought he’d be the guy to be in a relationship. He wouldn’t be the guy to want someone. And never did he ever think he’d be the first to confess. Yet here he was muttering the words out, the same calm and collected voice now just a little more shaky.

And while you were flabbergasted of course you accepted, cause you felt exactly the same.

[rninies]

✮ silly love

౨ৎ scaramouche x reader. fluff, gn!reader, scara's a tease here lol, modern!au — wc: 647

notes. scara fic for my bday :3

“so, what's going on between you and scaramouche recently? you guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden.” one of your friends suddenly asks and you choked on the french fry you were eating, quickly drinking some water.

“what?”

“you heard me.” your friend gives you a knowing smile. “what’s going on between you and scaramouche? last i heard, he hates talking with people and now he’s all sweet and cute with you.”

your face turns red. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. besides, he’s opening up to more people! it’s not just me he’s talking with.”

your friend hums. “mm, then why is he walking this way with a scowl on his face?”

“what-?” you turned your head and they were right. scaramouche is indeed walking here with a scowl on his face. “scara? what’s wrong-”

“i thought you promised we were going to eat lunch together.” scaramouche cuts you off swiftly, sitting down next to you and placing his tray on the table. your friends could only watch in amusement as you tried to find an excuse to calm scaramouche down.

“w-well, i couldn’t find you when class ended! i didn’t want to sit alone like a loser waiting for you to come.” you said with a nervous laugh at the end. “besides, aren’t you bored eating with me every single day?”

“who said i would get bored of you?” scaramouche replies, grabbing a french fry and eats it. he looks at you with a confused look on his face. “why would i get bored of you?”

“you’re saying that as if you have a crush on me.” you let out a laugh, doubling over, smacking your hand on the table as if you said the funniest thing in the world. when you don’t hear a snarky remark from scaramouche, you stop laughing. your friends whispered to each other and quietly left the table, leaving you and scaramouche alone. “you-”

“i’m going to need you to stop for one second because i just find it so incredibly rude that you think i’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass.” scaramouche glares at you, obviously upset. “are you a brick? because you’re dense as fuck.”

your mouth hangs open, still clearly shocked from the sudden confession. “you- what?! when did you start having a crush on me?”

“do i have to explain in detail why i’m in love with you?” he asks, pushing his tray forward. he places his elbow on the table, his hand supporting his head. “well? are you just going to continue to gape at me or are you going to say anything else?” you instantly snap back into reality, clearing your throat.

“ahem,” you fiddled with your thumbs, nervous. “i thought you were the type to not fall in love with anyone.” you avoided eye contact, looking at everything except scaramouche.

scaramouche raises his eyebrows, obviously amused by your nervousness. “what, am i not allowed to have feelings? am i just a puppet to you?”

“okay who said-” you lift your head only to bump your nose against scaramouche’s. you stopped what you were saying, eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s lips slowly turns into a smile and he eventually lets out a laugh, quickly snapping you back to reality. “stop distracting me!”

“what do you mean?” scaramouche asks in a teasing tone. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. me? distracting you? doesn't sound like me at all!”

“haha fuck you.” you glared at scaramouche, picking up your tray, preparing to leave. “i’m leaving. have fun eating alone.”

“wha-” scaramouche quickly gets up, following you. “hey you haven’t replied whether you like me back or not!”

you turned back, giving him a cheeky smile. “you think?” you winked and turned your back to him, not giving scaramouche a chance to reply.

he scoffs. “this brat.”

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Concussed

Request: do you think you could do some type of situation with luke where he has to clean a cut on your forehead or something? like that cute awkward moment 😭 (i hope this makes sense)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: blood mention

A/N: Plsssss I miss him sm, enjoy!!

Every single day, you fought actual, literal bad guys for a living. The worst of the worst�� the kind local police needed help handling. You drew your weapon more than you could keep track of and chased unsubs down the street at least once a month. 

And yet, it was the bird feeder that did you in. 

To be fair– you figured technically, it was the ladder that you were standing on in a feeble attempt to hang the bird feeder that was the real culprit. But as you sat in the grass with a bruised ass and ego, you figured the details weren’t really that important. 

Once the initial shock from the whole ordeal wore off, you slowly started to stand up– emphasis on the slowly. Because it became inherently clear as soon as you tried to move that you’d been hit in the head harder than you initially thought. 

“Fuck,” you hissed as soon as your fingers grazed the sensitive spot on your forehead. When you pulled your hand away, you were horrified to see the thick, crimson liquid coating your fingers. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you winced, bracing your hands on your knees while you stood the rest of the way up. 

“You try to do something nice… like feed the fucking birds, and look what happens,” you muttered to the universe. “You fall on your ass and get concussed by a goddamn bird feeder.”

A concussion would definitely help explain the absurd amount of talking you were doing to absolutely nobody. 

With what little dignity you had left (which was practically zero) you picked up the smashed bird feeder from the ground and trudged across the lawn towards the open garage door. After setting it down near the overflowing trash bin, you dragged your feet the rest of the way inside. 

You made it about two feet before you heard a knock coming from the front door.

Frowning, you wondered who the hell would be knocking at your door at 11 o’clock on a Sunday morning. Your curiosity made you forget all about your almost-certain concussion, as you slid across the kitchen towards where the knocking continued. Because you weren’t a total idiot (bird feeder to the forehead aside) you peaked through the curtains cautiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of your visitor. Everything inside of you loosened the moment you laid eyes on Luke– the newest member of your team and your neighbor only four houses down (which you’d learned from a brief conversation with him only days ago). 

He was dressed in a plain, gray T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his muscular calves on full display. You watched for only a moment longer, trying to control the butterflies suddenly flying rampant through your stomach. Luke had only been a part of the team for a couple weeks, but you were already learning that he had this sort of effect on you. Something about his smile– or the way he laughed, or the way he told the funniest jokes, and always knew what to say when someone was having a tough day– or the way he so obviously cared about the people you helped and was always so empathetic… Come to think about it, you adored just about everything about Luke. 

Before he could catch you gawking over him through the window like an absolute lunatic, you snapped the blinds closed and made your way to the front door. As soon as you swung it open, you were faced with arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met. 

“Luke, hi!” you greeted happily.

But his face went from excited to horrified to angry in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N, what the hell?

His beautiful, warm eyes went dark as they swept over the length of you. And that was the moment you remembered what you currently looked like–

With all the excitement of seeing Luke, you had totally forgotten that you’d fallen off a ladder and mauled by a bird feeder only moments ago. 

His shock quickly turned to anger as he took a step forward, so that he was standing right in front of you. “Who did this?” he asked, his tone solid and protective. His hand hovered near your jaw but didn’t quite touch you. 

“What?” you shook your head, and winced as soon as you did. “No–”

“Y/N, who did this to you?” 

“No one–” you said quickly. “I mean– I did. Not on purpose–” you clarified. “I fell.”

“You fell?” he asked in disbelief, his tone softening just the slightest bit. 

You nodded. “I was trying to hang the bird feeder, but the ladder slipped on the leaves on the lawn. It was stupid–”

“Jesus,” Luke winced as his fingers ghosted along the edge of your jaw. You couldn’t help the sudden, sharp inhale through your lips the second that you felt his touch graze your skin. “I could’ve helped you with that, you know. Why didn’t you ask–”

“Because I didn’t think bird suet would be the death of me today,” you admitted feebly. You hoped the dirt and blood from your fall was at least hiding the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

A soft chuckle escaped Luke’s lips, but the look of concern remained. 

“That’s a pretty nasty cut,” he said. “Let me help you clean it up.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you waved him away. “You don’t have to do that–”

“Did you even notice that you had blood all over your collar?” he asked, nodding slightly. 

You look down quickly and groan as soon as you see that your beige pullover was stained in a dark shade of crimson. 

“I think you’re probably a little concussed,” he added. “At least let me make sure you’re not dealing with anything worse. I used to help the medic sometimes in the field. Plus– I brought homemade muffins.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the plastic container being raised in Luke’s other hand. “You brought baked goods?”

“Muffins– yes.”

A wave of emotions washed over you. You didn’t have the best dating history– there was the guy who kept you a secret from his entire family (wife that you had no idea about included), then there was the guy who would cancel all your dates to spend time playing video games with his friends. And how could you forget about the guy who would conveniently “forget” his wallet every time you went out. 

And now here you were– standing in front of a man you’d known for only a couple of weeks and he was bringing you homemade muffins. 

“I–” you stammered. “I don’t– I can’t–”

“Woah,” Luke said, taking another step forward. “Maybe you should sit down. I think you’re more concussed than we thought.”

You shook your head. “I’m not concussed. Or… I probably am. But I mean, I’m just shocked–” you admitted. “No one’s ever done something like this before.”

“You said pumpkin muffins reminded you of home– and then you said later that day that you were feeling homesick. So–” his voice trailed off. You thought you might have detected a hint of embarrassment in his tone. 

Your eyes widened even more. 

“This is making me sound way creepier than I am–” Luke stammered. “I just… I was baking anyway, and I had a can of pumpkin just lying around... I didn’t go out of my way or anything in a weird way…”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you said, meaning it. “Seriously, Luke. Thank you. I don’t… I don’t know how to repay you.”

“How about letting me help clean that cut up?” he asked, throwing you a cheeky grin. 

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile. “Fine,” you agreed, finally stepping back to let him inside. After closing the door, you turned to find him setting the plastic container down on the counter. 

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked. 

“Uh, under the sink in the bathroom,” you said, still convinced you hadn’t processed any of this yet. 

“And the bathroom is…” his voice trailed off. 

“Oh–” Luke looked so damn natural standing in your kitchen, you forgot he’d never actually been here before. “Down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Got it. Be right back.” With that, Luke was taking his uncharacteristically long strides down your hall before disappearing in the bathroom. 

For the first time since answering the door, you raised your hand and touched your temple. Wet liquid still coated your forehead, despite how much time had passed since the accident. Maybe it was a good thing you were agreeing to let Luke help. 

He was back in an instant, holding a damp washcloth and the small first aid kit you’d ordered online months ago, but hoping to never use. 

“In here,” he nodded towards the kitchen. “The lighting’s better.”

You nodded, realizing he really didn’t have to explain. You and your concussed brain would follow him just about anywhere. Your eyes really widened when he patted the counter, indicating that he wanted you to sit on it. 

You didn’t even question his logic though. Instead, you swiftly slipped onto the lip of the granite counter and waited aimlessly while Luke fished around your first aid kit for what he needed. You were level with him now, your gaze trailing down the length of his thick, muscular body. You studied the lines and curves of his skin better. You noticed every crease– every laugh line, every freckle. God, was he always this beautiful? 

Out of nowhere a smirk spread across his lips. “You’re staring.”

Blinking harshly, you tilted your head towards the ceiling, the bright light hitting your eyes and making you wince. “Fuck,” you grunted, dropping your head and squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Shit, you okay?” he asked carefully, dropping the kit to cup your cheek carefully. You felt the pressure on your neck ease as you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. 

Carefully you opened your eyes and nodded. “Yeah– just the light.”

“You’re definitely concussed,” he stated, eyes traveling from yours to the cut on your forehead. “Did you hurt anything else besides your forehead?”

“Is the gash not enough?” you asked dryly, missing the feeling of his touch the moment he moved his hand. 

Luke chuckled. “Oh, the gash is plenty. Just checking, though. Here–” you felt his touch against your face again. This time, his fingers grazed along your chin, tipping it slightly. “Can you lift just a bit for me?”

You nodded and moved your head in the direction he gestured. “'Atta girl,” he said, your stomach churning at his praise. You felt him press the washcloth to your temple gently, swiping up dried blood. As he neared the actual wound, you found yourself tensing up. But when you gripped the sleeve of his T-shirt, Luke didn’t even mention it. Instead he traced his thumb up and down your jaw soothingly and whispered reassurances. “I’m sorry, I know, I know–”

“It’s okay,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s my own stupid fault. Too bad you didn’t show up just a few minutes earlier, you might have actually gotten to see the show.”

“So remind me again how this happened– you fell off a ladder?”

“Well, sort of,” you explained. “I was trying to hang my bird feeder– on the tall branch. But the ladder slipped on the leaves, which I’ve been meaning to rake for weeks now… and when I fell the bird feeder sort of fell too… on my head.”

You dared to steal a glance towards Luke. The second you did, you noticed him biting back a smile. 

“You can laugh,” you said defeatedly. “It’s completely ridiculous. A little stupid, too.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, composing himself. 

“We took down a six foot unsub last week,” you reminded him. “Yet the bird feeder is what does me in.”

“Well… when you put it that way,” Luke smirked. 

“If anyone at work asks, you have to lie for me,” you pleaded. “Tell them it was something heroic.”

“I’ll tell them you saved a baby bird from a tree. Instead of letting it fall to its death, you broke the fall with your forehead.”

“That makes me sound so noble,” you laughed. 

“Get ready,” Luke warned as he dabbed some alcohol on a gauze pad. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trying to brace yourself, not even thinking as you moved to grip his bicep. 

“Squeeze as hard as you need,” he said softly. “Ready?” 

You weren’t. But you nodded anyway. 

The stinging sensation ripped through you, causing an onslaught of swear words to escape your lips. You gripped Luke’s arm desperately, your fingers digging into his skin. If you weren’t completely consumed by pain, you would’ve noticed how strong his muscles felt beneath your touch. 

“Almost done,” he murmured, dabbing a few more spots before finally setting down the gauze. “There. Breathe.”

You nodded, your eyes still snapped shut as you attempted to inhale and exhale.

“Good job,” he soothed. When you opened your eyes, your breath hitched when you noticed how close Luke’s face was to yours. 

His jaw tensed, shadows dancing across his face, and you immediately wished you could lean forward and just kiss that look of concern right off from his lips. Your eyes lingered on them for a beat too long– because you heard Luke clear his throat and tilt his head back. 

Embarrassed, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap. 

“Last step,” he said quietly, pulling a large bandaid and some antibiotic cream from the first aid kit. 

You nodded, shaking yourself out of the desire before holding your head up to give him better access to your cut. Carefully, Luke placed the cream and bandage over your cut. “There,” he murmured softly. 

His hand shifted on its own accord, fingers moving to brush loose strands of hair that had fallen into your face, before traveling down the length of your jaw, chin and neck. 

God, he really was beautiful. 

Luke smirked. “Thanks.”

“What?” you whispered. 

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

Oh, shit. Had you really said that out loud? And was that the concussion speaking or just this intense, surreal intoxication you felt for Luke?

Involuntarily, you sucked in a breath, and then you did something you knew you wouldn’t have been brave enough to do unless you really were concussed– you leaned forward and pressed your mouth against Luke’s without a second thought. It was a soft brush at first, testing to see if he wanted to pull away. When he didn't, you slid forward on the counter and wound your arms around his neck. 

Luke’s other hand, the one that wasn’t cupping your face like he was afraid you’d break, landed on your hip. His fingers dug into your side as he pulled you closer to him. Your body fit against his like it was made for kissing him. 

Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, where you twisted your fingers amongst his curls. He moaned in approval, and you smiled into the kiss–  into him, and it was nearly devastating when he pulled away and didn't smile back. 

And then Luke was sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and taking a step back. “You’re concussed,” he said. “I’m sorry, this can’t happen– you’re… not in the right state of mind.”

Embarrassed, you slid off from the counter and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. “I’m sorry–” you stammered. “I didn’t realize you didn’t want to–”

Before you could slip past Luke– to run or hide or whatever the hell you could think to do– he shook his head and gently placed his hand on your hip, guiding you until your back collided with the counter. “I want to,” he said clearly, lowering his forehead so that it was pressed against yours. “God knows I’ve wanted to since the day I met you.”

It took a minute for his words to find meaning in your own brain. But as soon as they did, you looked up at him hopefully, your eyes widening. “Really?”

“Fuck, yes,” he rasped, his thumb wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized was falling. “Are you kidding me? I don’t just bring pumpkin muffins to anyone… That was my attempt at making a move.”

“Instead I got clocked with a bird feeder before throwing myself at you,” you groaned. You leaned forward and rested the non-injured side of your head against Luke’s chest. 

“If I didn’t think you had a pretty severe concussion, I would more than welcome you throwing yourself at me,” Luke assured you.

You scoffed. “The concussion may have given me the courage to throw myself at you, but I’ve been wanting to do it way longer.”

You felt his chuckle vibrate beneath you. “I’ll tell you what…” he began, his hand sprawling out against your back. “You still want me after you’re not concussed, and you won’t have to throw yourself at me ever again.”

A shiver ran down your spine– your body thrilled with the idea. “Deal.”

“In the meantime, how about I hangout here? Make sure no more bird feeders fall on your head.”

You smiled against his chest, unable to contain the feelings he elicited inside of you. “I’d like that,” you admitted. 

[pleaktale]

Please please- write a modern reader (spiderperson or not) explaining things like email, memes, and the internet. It is such a fun concept to me that Hobie is clueless on things like ai.

Personally, I see that as an oppurtunity to mess with him.

Anything you want! Drabble, headcannons. Just have fun if this tickles your fancy 🫶

I cackled with this one so much because I thought about all his reactions and that would be PRICELESS. Didn't enter much on the AI thing because we don't fw AI 🙅 Thank you for the request, lovie! Did a bit of both <3

Warnigs: none I guess?

Tags: Hobie x modern!gn!reader, headcanons

Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Hobie is a guy of techs, that is set in stone. But what does he know about memes? Spotify? What about watching videos in tiny screens?

He went to your world once. Guy was LOST in all the screened outdoors, cars moving by sustainable energy and without tires, the lack of humans in things such as supermarkets and pharmacies a little worrying to him;

Once you taught him how to open the door to your apartment, he asked you to dismantle that thing;

"What do ya mean this.. opens with your DNA!?" he asked with slumping shoulders, watching as you entered the apartment like it was just a normal occurrence. And it was.

Your laugh quieted down his mind a little. "It reads my irises through the capture, I already added yours also," you show him the screen of your phone, his name written in the 'allowed' list.

"When tha' happened!!?" Hobie scratched his head, watching over as you cackled your way to the couch.

Visiting each other's dimension was a regular thing, so seeing the old ass things in his world was kinda funny to you;

Sharing wired headphones with him was like living your great great grandparents lives, and watching his curious mind of a nerd in tech trying to figure out your bluetooth earbuds was perhaps the funniest thing in the world;

The first time he went in contact with the humor of your century, it was like explaining calculus to a toddler. But he got the hang of it;

Hobie is smart, that you can't deny. But watching him get used to touch screens was... curious, to say the least;

The first time you showed something AI-made to him, Hobie was taken aback just like you thought he would;

"Ya mean this hyper realistic video of the Eifell Tower burning until it's metals were curling 'n shit.. isn't real?" Hobie had squinted eyes at you.

"Basically, yeah," you replied with a sigh, "it's a little more in control now, we have tools to see if it's AI made or not, but I honestly wanted this gone."

"Bet a bunch of wankers had taken their shared advantage of that," Hobie sighed too, shaking his head in clear disagreement.

After that he always send you videos asking if they're real or not (you got him a phone so he could use TikTok, now it's like having your grandpa sending you skibidi toilet videos asking 'what the hell's this');

He absolutely loves the MP3 you gave him, it's such a tiny thing and still has all his songs plus your favorite ones, he likes to go patrolling with them;

You showed him spotify once, he called it a "damn trap of capitalism" for making you pay for songs that weren't even physical (he's not wrong though);

The concept of being formal over email didn't clicked to him;

"Write a letter, then!" Hobie pointed at the screen after reading your email you planned on sending over to Miguel.

"But that takes weeks to get somewhere, Hobie," you raised an eyebrow, looking at him while pressing the 'send' button. "See? Gone and in his email, if he's online he'll see it now."

"Online? Yeah, a'ight, whatever." His hands up in mock surrender got another set of laugh out of you.

I could go on for longer but maybe for a pt. 2 😅 I hope you enjoyed! Until next time <3

© pleaktale

[in-starlit-nights]

I thought it was cool that many Elriels are sharing the moment they fell in love with this ship, so I decided to share mine too!

I'm a casual reader; in fact, I barely read! It's hard for a book to hold my attention and interest for long, but SJM did it easily because I find ACOTAR's reading fun and comforting in a way I can't explain! She simply writes in a way that activates my hyperfocus, and every time I read, I want more and more!

The funniest thing is that I started reading ACOTAR because of Gwyn.

Yup.

Because of a fanart of Gwynriel.

I knew absolutely nothing about the story, but once, a fanart of Gwyn training with Az appeared on my TikTok and I thought it was cute and went to see more fanarts... Until I saw one where Gwyn was watching Azriel kiss Elain. I was super upset, thinking WHO IS THAT?? So I decided to read the book to find out more.

I started reading ACOTAR because of Gwyn, thinking she'd be present from the first books, given that there were so many fanarts. I ended up falling in love with Feyre, Rhys, all of the Night Court... And stopped wondering when Gwyn would show up to steal the scene and when THAT OTHER WOMAN would appear so I could hate her (LOL).

And then Elain arrived, with her sweet, yet mysterious and courageous, nature.

And then her way of looking at life with hope, her way of caring for others, captivated me.

And then the chemistry between her and Azriel began to emerge, and I became more and more involved with what seemed SO RIGHT.

He understood her, he saw her when no one else did. They completed each other. IT WAS SO OBVIOUS!

Just the idea of reading a story about freedom of choice, about forbidden love, about facing everything to be with the one you love, made me dream of many possibilities for the two of them.

Elain won me over when I didn't even wanted to know more about her. I found myself as in love as Azriel.

I can't wait to read the next book because I'm sure SJM will make me love Elain, Az and Elriel even more.

[asdfghjklmals]

BLAME GAME✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. daddy joke. WORD COUNT: 0.9k words. TAGS: boyfriend!gojo, satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi makes a small appearance.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend tries to play a prank on satoru, but he slips up and gets himself in trouble instead... AUTHOR'S NOTE: lol i saw a funny reel of this girl pranking her boyfriend and i got inspired. also used something from the jjk short stories. 😉 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“satoru gojo!” you bellowed from the bedroom.

you heard his feet promptly shuffling to your room as your white-haired boyfriend peaked his head through the bedroom door. you repeated his name again.

“satoru gojo!”

“uh? yeah? that's me...” he stared at you, concerned and confused, walking slowly to the foot of your king sized bed.

“come here.” you said with no emotion in your face, using your index finger to lure him towards you. it took all of you to not burst out laughing in his face. it was amusing to see the soft and bewildered look on his face. he was really such an attentive boyfriend who loved you silly and he was truly worried.

“why are you calling me by my—wait, you never use my government name. we go by babe, baby, sweet cheeks, honey, and sometimes daddy in this household!” he stomped his feet jokingly, trying not to laugh because he couldn’t tell if this was a dangerous situation and if he needed to tread lightly. your lips twitched as you also tried not to laugh either or your cover would be blown.

“satoru, honey.” you said more calmly, but with a hint of danger in your tone. god, you deserved an emmy award for your acting.

satoru was going through all the events that happened today in his head, trying to figure out what he did wrong along the way. “we went shopping today, i made you your morning coffee perfectly may i add, i took out the trash, megumi did the laundry, and i didn't leave my socks around the apartment… so why are you using my government name like that?!”

“what do you think it is?” you questioned him.

“i literally have no clue. you should be having a good sunday so far and i was enjoying my day until you used my full name instead of baby. i haven’t even done anything yet!” satoru defended himself, scratching the back of his head. he was out of back up plans, it was time to resort to an emergency measure. kisses. lots of kisses.

he swiftly made his way over to your side of the bed and sat down next to your side, he grinned at you and tried to sneak a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him just shy of your face. his lips hit your palm instead. “you know what you did.”

“babe, what did i do? just tell me and i promise i’ll make everything right again,” he whispered as he kissed your ear. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise as you shuddered. he stared at you with piercing azure eyes, his sunglasses sliding down his nose bridge.

“why are you whispering?” you started giggling.

satoru gojo was a smart and calculated man (most days), but today, he was really at a loss. “why are you laughing?” he demanded to know.

“i saw the funniest video of a girl doing this exact thing to her boyfriend and you had the same reaction as him.” you kept giggling after explaining. your bright smile made your green eyes disappear, crows feet wrinkle, and your pearly whites glisten.

as much as satoru could melt by watching you laugh, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “i really thought you were upset with me! you never use my full name unless i’m in trouble with you. i thought my ass was going to be sleeping on the couch tonight for sure. my neck already started to hurt thinking about it.” he dramatized as he massaged the back of his neck, but it wouldn’t be satoru gojo without the theatrics.

“i had to go through all the things in my head that would’ve upset you like not taking out the garbage, leaving my socks around the house, fighting with megumi, not putting down the toilet seat after peeing cause of that one time you fell in, not separating the white and dark laundry colors, or even when the kids and i were at the maid cafe last wee—”

and that’s when satoru gojo saw his life flash before his eyes. he covered his mouth quickly with his free hand, his eyes wide open in terror. you glared into his panicked blue eyes.

“satoru gojo! you went where?! and you took megumi too?!” this time, there was no acting in your tone.

EXTRA:

“come on, megumi, pick up the damn phone. don’t forget that i pay for your phone bill.” satoru gritted through his teeth. he had just received a 20 minute lecture on how megumi and yuji didn’t need to be in a maid cafe and that he didn’t have any business being there either. it was actually an honest accident that they ended up there. the kids followed him into the maid cafe where he was scoping out an abandoned building where some curses were lingering across the street. he wanted to use the building as his afternoon lesson with his students.

“what do you want?” the younger fushiguro picked up, annoyance in his tone of voice.

“well, that’s not a polite way of answering the phone that your guardian pays the cell phone bill for.” satoru quipped.

“it’s always something with you, gojo-sensei,” megumi sighed. 10 years of putting up with satoru gojo did that to people. megumi wondered how you dealt with him. you deserved a nobel peace prize in his eyes.

“well, (y/n) found out about the maid cafe,”

“and you’re in trouble with the boss. cool, i’ll see you at home la—”

“no, no. not just me, we are in trouble.”

“it was your stupid idea to go there! who the hell scopes out an abandoned building at a freakin’ maid cafe?” megumi couldn’t believe that he was being dragged into a punishment too. last time he got in trouble, you took away his kindle that you and satoru had gotten him for christmas last year.

the white haired sorcerer pulled a picture out from his wallet. it was a picture of megumi and yuji from the maid cafe. satoru cunningly suggested a scapegoat, “how do we somehow put the blame on yuji?”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[carlsangel]

CRUSH

carl grimes x adhd!dixon!fem!reader

(carl loves to hear about your hyper fixation.)

tags: fluff!

masterlist here!

(this takes place in season 4 at the prison!)

Growing up, you’d gotten interested in many things. You were really educated on a lot and your dad, Daryl honestly couldn’t keep up with it. He tried his best, since he’s a pretty quiet guy he’s a great listener. Although, sometimes you wished he’d give you some sort of feedback or maybe ask you questions about whatever it was you were telling him about.

Even after the turn he never really had time to talk about anything. He was always going on runs or he went out hunting. He was really important in the way the prison ran, so he was always busy. You always felt sort of anxious about it, you could never really talk or share your thoughts or explain the interests you loved. They were especially important now as most of your hyper fixations were what was getting you through it all.

You talked, and you talked a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that. But in a world that suddenly had gone quiet, it was hard for people to listen to you considering how adapted they’d become to the silence. You were like a burst of energy that most people weren’t exactly ready for quite yet.

Except for Carl.

He always thought you were the cutest and funniest ever, even when you were younger like at the quarry or the farm. There, you never really had freedom to be yourself because the adults would always tell you to hush and be quieter. That’s why at the prison, he loved to watch you be who you truly were. He’d seen you interact with the other kids at the prison and had gotten angry at them for brushing you off when you were excited about certain things and began to ramble. So, one day at the tables outside the prison, he did something not many people did.

He asked you your favorite book series.

You were ecstatic, even though you realize this may not an invitation to explain to him every bit of lore of the story, you were happy he’d even put in the effort to ask. You tried to stay as calm as possible. “It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events…it’s quite complicated…” You explain shyly, not having really opened up to him like that before. Sure you’d gone through a lot with him but you stayed quiet a lot of the time because of how discouraged you were by adults.

“Complicated? How so?” He questioned. Which is exactly what you wanted. Your eyes widen a bit but you try your best to stay calm so you don’t completely scare him off.

“Well how much do you wanna know, I mean it’s quite a lot it could take me hours to explain and I’d feel quite bad if you wanted like a quick synopsis and not an entire look on the lore and…” Your voice trails off when you realize you’d been rambling. He however was admiring you completely. He found you so refreshing. “I wanna hear everything.” He tells you. Again exactly what you wanted. Was he always so cute? Or is that something you’d just noticed?

“I guess I could start with the basic information, there’s three siblings right, theres Violet who’s the eldest sister and she’s an inventor, she always ties her hair up with this ribbon and that’s how you know she’s gonna make something good...” You continue to ramble and smile at little details you explain. “Then there’s the middle child, Klaus who’s a boy and he is very intelligent, he remembers basically anything ever told to him which I somewhat relate to considering I get really interested at certain things but anyway,” He giggles at you a bit, enjoying everything in front of him at the moment.

“They also have a little sister Sunny who’s just a baby but they understand everything she says and she has these teeth that are super sharp even though it’s just four but she could probably bite off a finger if she really wanted to.” His eyes widen a bit. “A finger? Wow…and only four teeth?” He inquired, very intrigued at what you’re saying.

You continue to talk to him a bit more, explaining a good amount of the plot to him and he listened intently. You’d stopped for dinner but continued to talk with him during. At some point, Daryl had to come and pry you away from him so you could actually go the hell to bed. Carl didn’t want you to go, you’d already gotten him invested and he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what happened next. He also wanted to just spend time with you.

“Cmon s’time for bed.” Daryl told you, you then turned to Carl and a small frown was displayed on his face. “We can talk again tomorrow morning…if you want.” He immediately nods. “Yes- yeah I’d love to.” Daryl looks between the both of you, knowing how much Carl had admired you. He also knew that if Carl was listening and wanting to know more, you’d also admire him just as much. You smile at him and nod. Daryl directs you in the way of the cells and he stays back to talk to Carl.

“You got somethin for my daughter?” He interrogated Carl for a moment. “W-what?” Daryl looks back at you to make sure you’re far enough before continuing. “Those books…she’s been dyin to talk to me about those since I found em for her. Haven’t had the time.” He explains. “No one else seems to want to hear about it. What’re you up to?” Carl tilts his head a bit. “I just wanted to know her favorite series…I suppose I enjoy hearing her talk.” He smiles.

So Daryl left him alone about it. He was glad to know you had someone to talk to while he was busy.

The next day at breakfast, you were eating while reading back at the benches. Once he gets his plate he walks over and sits across from you. His paper plate hit the table with a bit a thud and you notice, looking up from the book. “Oh…hey.” You look up at him and smile, he takes a moment to respond as he’s quite flustered to see your smile straight off the bat. “Hi…which one are you reading?” He points to your book.

“The twelfth book. I’m kinda sad about it though…” You give a small pout and he picks up a bit of bacon to take a bite. “Why, cause it’s gonna end?” He chews his food and waits for your reply. “That and I don’t have the last book.” You fold the page’s corner, sort of a way to mark your place. Carl takes note of that. He does however feel horrible that you’re missing the last book. “Oh really? I’m sorry…maybe we can make up our own ending. Once you explain the rest of it to me.” He does his best to cheer you up.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to solve your problem. Although he was too young to go out scavenging, his best friend wasn’t. So after breakfast where you explained the second book to him, on his way to do his chores he stopped Michonne on her way out of the gate. “Do you think maybe if it’s not to big a deal you could stop at the library? I’m looking for a book.” He explains, not quite mentioning you currently. “Is this for your new old ‘friend’?” She questions, somewhat teasingly. He rolls his eyes but nods. “Yes. She’s missing the last book. The thirteenth.”

“The last book? Tragic. I know the series, I overheard your guys’ chats yesterday.” She smiles.

So she left and you didn’t see Carl till later that night in the cell block after dinner. He stopped by your cell with a small bag in his hands. He pushed the curtain open to see you lying on your stomach atop your bed, on the final pages of the twelfth book. “Almost done?” He sort of startled you but you immediately smile once you realize it’s him.

“Mhm.” His visit was rather unusual, usually you’d just talk to him during the day but not before bed. You sit up and make room for him to come sit beside you. “I got something for you.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out a book, the thirteenth book. “‘The End?’ Really? How…I mean my dad’s been looking for it for me but-” You look up at him with a bright grin. You don’t really say anything before swiftly tackling him in a hug. He hugs you so tightly, all he wanted was to see you happy.

After pulling away from the hug, he reached back down into the back and pulled out a hook bookmark. It had a little arrow charm. Fitting for a Dixon to say the least.

“I mean…this makes sense.” You tell him, he laughs at your comment. “I just thought I’d have Michonne find you the last book. I’m quite invested in it myself. I love hearing you talk about it…I love hearing you talk.” He explains, sort of staring at you admiringly. You notice and look a tad skeptical, knowing there was something more appealing to him than just talking.

“I uh..I have a small crush on you…if that explains everything.” He admits, his face turning a light shade of pink.

You smile. “Yeah, I could tell.”

a/n: i thought this was quite fun to write, i love a series of unfortunate events muehehehe. anyway i hope this is what anon wanted, i did some good research for it to ensure it was okay :)) okay love u bye

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

[n3ptoonz]

can you write hdcs on sfw/NSFW for Smoke? Please 🥺

Y'ALL CANT GET ENOUGH OF THESE HUH 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

smoke hcs

nsfw under the cut; not explicit, includes reader, i went to yappersville and they knew me

SFW

he's well aware he looks significantly less intimidating without his mask so he wears it like everywhere. he rotates them too since he got a collection of unique ones that look intimidating (NERD)

growing up in the lin kuei i know for a fact kuai and bi han always pointed out that he's white LMFAOOOOO and cause he gets visibly red easily they never let him live it down

since we're on the topic, kuai was often joking but bi han would always use it in arguments. i can literally see him losing an argument to tomas and being like "shut up you're white" 😭😭 bet he said it in mandarin too

tomas is almost fluent in mandarin, i make the rules. he learned most from overhearing conversations but also madam bo too

the funniest of the three. before his family um...yeah- he loved making his siblings laugh and wore a badge of honor once he got kuai to laugh at a stupid joke he made in passing when they were teens

has a platonic crush on johnny. i will not explain further. (he would love to be in a movie)

in my head he's had long hair on multiple occasions but cuts it on random occasions cause he couldn't make up his mind, but around the time of preparing the fight in madam bo's restaurant he kept it short

NSFW

captain switch. i've seen so many different hcs and fics and have come to conclusion that he has the capability of being dominant because he has to be in order to survive you feel me, BUT!! wouldn't hesitate to give up control if asked

lowkey masochist. i say lowkey bc you notice how he reacts if you do something that would inflict pain. be it a louder moan or him asking you to do it again without stuttering this time

don't call me crazy but i genuinely think he'd be hung LOLLLL sweet boys always got it going on what can i say?! tomas serving mad girth and tonage today 🙂‍↕️👌🏾

when it comes to you he kinda...he can't help but have such perverted thoughts sometimes. now i don't think he's a baby who can't speak for himself but damn does he get reduced to one red faced brain cell if you catch him staring at your ass. he's thinking of all the ways he could discreetly have you bent over the counter you're standing in front of. esp if you two just sparred

tomas vrbada is an ass man i DIE ON THIS HILL. back shots, cowgirl, PRONE, you facing the wall, you name it. he loves the feeling of your ass in his hands it's like the mf has never seen cheeks a day in his life

when he's dominant it fluctuates between soft dom and feral beast. it mostly depends on what his day was like + how good you look that night. especially if you teased him all day. my goodness, it's twinkie central in this bitch

when he's submissive he completely trusts you and listens to everything you say. is down for a lot of things peg him and generally you ain't gotta do too much to convince him to do things you wanna. he's all ears and puppy eyes

[wanderersbell]

when he lets you wear his hat

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: dark humor (just in the beginning)

word count: 1168

a/n: i am a firm believer that scara loves dark humor yes i might be projecting but nobody can change my mind ( ˘ ³˘)♥ enjoy!

your unwavering patience is something you’ve always taken pride in. 

there have only been a few instances where you’ve lost your cool in the fleeting years of your life, always feeling a certain kind of superiority in situations where you can hold your own even if it would be reasonable to let go for a moment. 

but now, after weeks of nonstop backhanded comments and complaints from your traveling companion, it is through sheer willpower alone that you haven’t turned around and tried to bite his head off every time he opens his mouth. 

“you seriously can’t swim?” the wanderer asks from somewhere behind you. “didn’t you ever have fun as a kid?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and keep up your brisk pace while he snickers to himself like it truly is the funniest thing in the world. the unforgiving desert sun is hot against your back and the fine grains of sand that keep finding their way into your shoes feel like they’re rubbing your skin raw, leaving you sweaty and miserable. 

the one traveling with you doesn’t share these sentiments, hardly even taking notice to uncomfortable sensations anymore, and thus remains entirely unbothered, much to your annoyance. 

he almost seemed understanding at first, suggesting you take a dip in a nearby oasis to cool off before you overheat, but one insignificant mention of your swimming skills, or lack thereof, had turned into him making fun of you for it before you could even begin to regret bringing it up. 

the wanderer doesn’t relent even when you keep ignoring him. “surely it’s not because you’re afraid, right? what’s so scary about water?” 

“quit it.” you warn him sharply, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw begins to ache. of course, you’re already expecting him to do the opposite. 

“wait, don’t tell me.” he starts, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “nobody bothered to teach you? mom just too busy to make time for you?”

this has you freezing in your tracks, coming to a halt beside him, and before you can even process the thought going through your head-

“at least i actually had one.”

the silence that follows is deafening as you snap your head up to stare at him, his expression of shock mirroring your own. guilt starts twisting around in your stomach as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the joyous laughter that erupts out of your traveling companion the next second chases it away as he hunches over and cackles.  

“that was incredible,” he gasps out. 

you narrow your eyes at the sight but you can’t help the smile that starts tugging at your lips seeing him thrown into such a genuine fit of giggles, the sound melodic and tugging at your heartstrings. “why are you laughing?”

he lifts an arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead as he starts to calm down, leaving you with a bundle of conflicting emotions tangled together in your chest. 

“i never thought you had it in you.” he explains, sounding almost… proud? there’s an undeniable glow of satisfaction on his face, and it’s only then that you realize, this entire time, his goal was to get you to play along. 

“looks like you really can teach an old dog new tricks,” the wanderer shrugs, his usual shit-eating smirk returning to his lips. 

“i- wha?” you sputter incredulously. “haven’t you been around for centuries? and you’re calling me old?”

he makes a noncommittal sort of hum as you two start walking again. a comfortable silence falls over you both, the man beside you finally silent after getting what he wanted out of you. however, the heat isn’t any less forgiving than it was moments prior so your pace inevitably slows until you’re forced to stop and lean down to rest your hands on your knees, each inhale of hot air offering absolutely no relief. 

when he realizes you stopped walking and turns around to send you an unimpressed look it’s quickly replaced by poorly masked concern that shows in the furrow of his brows and the tight line of his lips. it’s only then that he remembers the bottle he watched you pack earlier that morning. 

“drink,” he says as he reaches into your bag and pulls out a full flask of water. you grab it from him gratefully and can’t help the sigh you release at the coolness of the liquid from being inside of a metal container. 

the wanderer watches you wordlessly as you twist the cap back on and turn to put it back in your bag, and the second you look away the feeling of something being placed on your head as well as suddenly being enveloped in the shade catches you by surprise. when you whip around to meet his gaze he avoids yours and walks a few steps ahead, arms crossed and hat mysteriously missing. 

when it clicks, your jaw drops a fraction and you reach up to slide your fingers along the gold metal leaves, finding them hot to the touch from the scorching sun. 

the wanderer never lets you touch his hat. not even as his trusted companion. every time you’ve tried in the past, he’s quick to step out of your way or slap your hand back whenever he sees you going for it. there’s a sparkle of joy in your eyes when he peeks out of the corner of his to take in your reaction and scoffs when he sees the awe on your face. 

“come on, let’s keep moving.” he huffs, tone sounding irritated. 

unused to the weight of the wide hat balanced on your head, you catch up to him on wobbly feet, one hand still holding onto the rim so it won’t tip off. how the wanderer manages to jump around and run without it sliding everywhere is beyond you, because it feels like it could fall off at any moment. 

this does not go unnoticed to the man next to you, but you’re too busy trying to stand straight and walk without tilting too much, so you’re not prepared for the gust of wind he flicks at you that tips the hat up and off, saved from falling to the ground only by his hand that shoots out to grab it and put it back the way it was before. 

“hey!” you pout indignantly, sending him a look of annoyance. when your meet eyes meet his, his vibrant indigo irises are swimming with mirthful contentment, and a small smile rests easily on his face. it’s not an expression you get see on him that often, but like always, it causes pitiful flutters in your chest. 

your frown softens despite yourself and you avert your gaze to the horizon where the sun hangs high in the sky, feeling thankful that you can just blame the flush staining your cheeks on the heat if he points it out. 

what a truly insufferable travel companion you have.