#and a rude gesture for Zero

[rthko]

If you're on Twitter at all (rookie mistake), you've probably seen a video of a TikTok user filming herself at a baseball game and some women behind her snickering, name calling, and making rude gestures. It's uncomfortable to watch, and I agree those reactions were uncalled for, but the next step was for other TikTok users to apparently dox these women and expose their full names and jobs. If you have any moral fiber whatsoever you know that is infinitely more cruel than whatever they were doing in the video. You witnessed rude behavior in strangers online. Okay. Now ask yourself if that's worth getting someone fired over. Ask yourself if that's worth making someone become homeless over. Ask yourself if that's worth someone committing suicide over. Maybe those women just didn't want to be filmed and made into "content" against their will, and seeing how this has all played out maybe they had good reason. We have zero context.

I am already seeing defenses of this doxing, saying "if they didn't want to face consequences, maybe they shouldn't have been bullies!" "Cancel culture isn't real." We have quickly witnessed the latter phrase evolve from "bigoted or abusive behavior in powerful figures must be condemned, and our condemnation of, say, JK Rowling doesn't change the fact that she's still a billionaire" to "any and all cruel and sadistic behavior is justified so long as we can classify ourselves as essentially good and our enemies as essentially bad." We have dropped all pretenses of "speaking truth to power," as social media evolved the definition of "a platform" from wealthy public figures to having any kind of online presence to being in the background of someone's TikTok because you happened to attend a baseball game. We can meme about "cancel culture" or insist it's not real til we're blue in the face, but there is a tendency online, whatever you want to call it, that only knows how to punish and delineate between the morally righteous and the "problematic." That wholeheartedly endorses digital panopticism and inflicting class violence on someone as long as you use the right moral framing. And if you keep acting like this, don't be surprised when your "if you don't want to suffer consequences, don't be an asshole" reasoning is turned back at you.

[mrsstarkey1]

reunited - rafe cameron

SUMMARY: you get locked in a room with rafe after being kidnapped by singh

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS : sad rafe :( slight obx season 3 spoilers

A/N: check out my most recent rafe fic

It was when you were getting pushed, very harshly might you add, into a bedroom with the door getting locked behind you when you really regretted helping the pilot out of the plane. God damn empathetic instincts got you every time.

"Dinner in an hour. Better clean up," the guards voice sounded from the other side of the closed door.

"Fuck," you mumbled under your breath, leaning your head back against the wall. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you opened your eyes and scanned them around the room.

Your eyes locked onto the wardrobe in the corner of the room, 4 identical silk dresses hanging up on a bar. You walked over to it, grabbing the note on the first dress.

‘pick your size’

“Well, don’t mind if I do I guess,” you mumbled, shaking your head slightly. Your mind was all sorts of boggled right now. Why in the hell would someone kidnap you then give you a $500 dress to wear to a dinner? Nothing made sense. You knew this couldn’t be Ward, if it were him you wouldn’t even get a bed to sleep on.

You changed into your dress and made yourself look halfway decent for whatever sort of dinner you were about to be met with.

About an hour later, just as promised, the guard barged in the room. “Follow me,” he said sternly.

You walked down the stairs, through a hallway and the guard grabbed your arm and practically shoved you into a room. “Alright, what the fuck?” you let out, turning back toward the guard. “You can stop shoving me. I’ve been perfectly compliant, I mean where the fuck do you think i’m gonna go?” you lifted your arms up halfway, gesturing to the oversupply of guards in the house, “I mean at this point it’s just plain rude.”

The guard was dead silent, just glaring down at you. “Just proving my point there buddy,” you said quietly, turning back to face the inside of the room.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice said as soon as you turned around.

Your mouth parted slightly in pure shock, “Rafe.” You could not fucking believe it. Rafe Cameron in the flesh, after a month of zero contact. He could have been dead for all you knew.

The guard closed the door behind you, the click of the lock causing the both of you to become silent. You could only hear the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, and you were pretty sure you could here Rafe’s even from across the room.

“What are you doing here?” you breathed out, your voice coming out less strong than you intended. Your chest clenched, thinking of the possible reasons Rafe was standing in front of you, in the house you’d been taken to against your will.

Rafe met your eyes again, and this time you took the time to look at him. He looked different. His hair was buzzed, something that you never imagined can actually look good on a man, but Rafe Cameron shot that theory to hell.

“Me? What are you doing here?” Rafe said loudly, taking a step toward you.

“I wondered if you’re little reunion would cause sparks, you know,” a new voice said from the other side of the room. Yours and Rafe’s heads both turned toward the voice.

The man turned and walked toward the two of you, scratching his beard. “Who are you?” Rafe spoke up first, taking a couple steps to place himself beside you.

“Me? My name is Carlos Singh.” The man, Carlos, pointed at Rafe, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron. And you,” he pointed toward you, “Miss y/l/n, I apologize for the rough tactics used in bringing you here.” Rafe’s jaw clenched at Singhs words, and he took a slight sidestep so he was now standing in front of you. “But please, come. Sit down,” Singh gestured for you both to follow into the other room. “Come now, I don’t bite.”

You shared a short look with Rafe, before giving in and following the mysterious man. “Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe asked, and it was clear to you now that he was here willingly, but it still seemed like he was in the dark.

Singh poured himself a drink as he responded to Rafe, "yes, Mr. Cameron false pretenses. But the ends justify the means, I'm afraid. Sit down," he suggested, or more like demanded.

You sat down on the cushioned chair, and Rafe sat on the couch, a scoff escaping his lips.

"Why are we here?" you asked, getting quite impatient.

"Well, Mr. Cameron, Miss y/l/n, we share certain interests, you know. Objectives-"

"Is this not about the cross?" Rafe cut him off, likely just as frustrated as you. You glanced at him. The cross? Did Singh offer to buy it?

“It is. Tangentially, it is about the cross, but it's also about something much, much bigger than the cross," he strode over a painting on the wall. "By orders of magnitude, the completion of a grand quest." You glanced at Rafe to see if he was as confused as you were. He clearly was. "You see, the story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads. And when they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from, the soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold. El Dorado. And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know. They tried. Conquistadors, Knights, tribes, entire nations. All fighting each other in a race for the end of the rainbow. Thousands of lives laid on the pyre of gold fever. And it falls to me, you know. It falls to me to complete the task. To bring full circle the quest that has gone on for almost 500 years. Perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere, you know. And you two.. you two are going to play a part in that." It was silent for a moment, you and Rafe challenging each other to speak first. "What about you, Ms. y/l/n. Are you interested in history?"

"Nope," you said simply, offering a fake smile.

"I didn't listen to a word you said, okay? How much you gonna keep philosophizing?" Rafe chimed in.

Singh chuckled dryly, "you are direct, aren't you, Mr. Cameron?" Rafe stared back at Singh, not saying a word.

You leaned back in your chair, bored, quite frankly of this whole interaction. You just wanted to get back with the rest of your friends, well, not before getting some answers from Rafe about what the hell he's been up to. "Now what exactly do you need from me?"

"I've come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that will help me get what I want."

"Which is?"

"An old manuscript. A diary, actually."

You kept your facial expression the same, if not a little falsely confused as Rafe and Singh both stared at you, waiting for an response.

Rafe was the first to speak, no doubt sensing that you knew something, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You shook your head along with him, "I don't know anything about a diary," you said in your most believable tone.

"Then how did you know that the cross was on the Royal Merchant, hm?" Singh pressed, showing he clearly knew you weren't being truthful. But you weren't gonna give up your information to this random guy.

"Look, I wish I knew how to help you, really. But I don't," you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that, you know. Because unfortunately, I don't believe you."

You leaned forward slightly, "well, I don't know what to tell you. I don't have a diary, you know?" You mocked him, with a small grin playing at your lips. You heard Rafe stifle a laugh beside you.

Singh chuckled and shook his head, "listen, Ms. y/l/n, you and your friend here couldn't have found the cross without the diary."

"Well, I wouldn't say we're friends," you said with a sigh, leaning back in the chair again and crossing your legs, "I'm not really sure what we are exactly. It's actually quite a long sto-"

Rafe stood up, "this is ridiculous, I'm out. Come on y/n," he said, walking toward the door, not making it far when a guard stepped out in front of him.

"Do I look like a fool to you Mr. Cameron?" he stood up, walking toward him. Rafe simply shrugged. "You have the cross, she and her friends had the cross at one point. So one of you has the diary. And if you really don't know, then I suggest you convince your friend to tell me," he said, and Rafe made eye contact with you. You couldn't quite read the look in his eye. "Once I have the diary, you'll be free to leave."

Everyone stayed in the same position in silence for a couple moments, before Singh sighed, "alright then, follow me." He led the two of you to a bedroom upstairs, "enjoy the grounds during your stay. I must warn you, I'm not a man of infinite patience. You have one day," he moved back toward the door, "go to the window for a little demonstration, I think you'll like it, you know," he patted Rafe on the shoulder and left the room and a guard shut and locked the door.

Rafe banged on the door, "hey! you're just done talking?"

"Door's locked, Rafe," you said with a sigh, walking over to the window for this 'demonstration.'

You watched as Jimmy Portis was pulled from a truck by 3 guards. "Who the hell is that guy?" Rafe asked.

"Jimmy Portis. He was working for Singh, he brought me and everyone else here. But he was trying to help me," you said softly, watching the scene play out in front of you.

Singh turned to both of you and pulled out a gun, walking to where the guards were holding Jimmy. "Woah, woah, woah," Rafe muttered.

Within seconds, the gunshot had gone off. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you lost your balance a little, your shoulder bumping into Rafe's. He placed his hand on your waist out of instinct, steadying you. He took a breath before he turned to you, "this diary. Don't bullshit me, y/n, do you have it?" He asked you, looking into your eyes intently. He knew you couldn't lie to those eyes.

“No,” you said simply. “I don’t have it.

Rafe clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, “okay, do you know where it is.”

You mentally debated whether to tell Rafe the truth or not for a few moments, before finally sighing, “yes, alright. I know where it is,” you admitted, breaking eye contact and walking over to sit on the bed.

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed by this whole situation. “You’ve gotta tell him where it’s at.”

You scoffed, “no chance. We don’t know this guy’s intentions, Rafe. Whats he gonna do when he gets whatever it is that he’s going through all this to get to?”

“This guy will kill us y/n. I mean you saw what he just did,” Rafe said, walking over to you, towering over your body as he stood near the bed.

“You’re telling me that you care if I live or die, Rafe? Really? Because it sure as hell didn’t seem like you cared about me when you left and said nothing. All you care about is yourself, that’s become clear to me,” you said with a scoff, moving to stand up.

Rafe shook his head quickly, putting his hands on your knees lightly to keep you from getting up. He knelt down in front of you, “wait, wait,” he took a deep breath, locking eyes with you. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. You were almost positive that was the first time you’d heard Rafe Cameron say those words, and mean them. He had your attention, that was for sure. “I care about you, y/n. You have to know that, okay? I shouldn’t have left without talking to you, hell, I shouldn’t have left at all. This god damn cross, the gold, it’s all cost me so much. But the worst thing it’s cost me is you, y/n,” his voice cracked saying your name, and your heart clenched. “I don’t care that you’re running around with the pogues, and I don’t care that you know where this diary is, I just- I care about you. And now that you’re here in front of me, I never want to lose you.”

It was the the tears that were dwelling in his blue eyes that made you put your hands on his shoulders and slide down off of the bed and onto your knees with him. Rafes arms tightened around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. Rafe let out a shaky breath into the side of your head, and you tightened your arms around him, sinking into the hug.

You’d admit it, you were beyond pissed at Rafe for months. You couldn’t imagine a time where you wouldn’t be pissed at him. But now with him in your arms again, you couldn’t imagine not loving Rafe Cameron.

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe mumbled into your neck, "you shouldn't even forgive me," he said so quietly that you almost didn't hear him. Your eyebrows furrowed together when he stood up abruptly, nearly making you fall over. He ran his hands over his face as he paced back and forth by the window.

"Rafe, hey," you stood up, moving toward him.

"No, stay away. Back up Y/N!" Rafe said loudly and you jumped unwillingly at his raised voice, and you immediately regretted it. Rafe's face fell impossibly more distraught, and his eyes filled to the brim with tears, "no, no, no," he muttered to himself, turning away from you. He now had both of his hands on the sides of his head, fingertips pressing into his skin. "I'm so sorry, I- I scared you. I can't believe, oh my god," he mumbled to himself. "I'm dangerous y/n. I have these- these thoughts and impulses and I don't know how to control it. I'm trying though, I really am- I'm trying," his voice broke, worse than last time, and the tears finally trailed down his face.

You finally moved over to him, scared he was about to collapse to the ground. Rafe let you wrap your arms around him tightly, "I know you're trying, baby," you said into his shirt, your own eyes becoming watery. Rafe's sobs muffled against your shoulder and you could feel the hot tears on your skin through the shirt. "You're okay, Rafe. It's all okay," you spoke softly as you rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him.

You stayed in the embrace for a couple minutes, until Rafe's breathing steadied and he pulled away from you, keeping his hands on your sides. Your heart nearly broke at the sight of his face, inches from yours. His eyes were already bloodshot, and his face showed the clearest vision of broken you'd ever seen. You didn't realize how serious this had gotten until he was breaking down in front of you.

You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, training your eyes on his, "Rafe, I need you to listen to me, okay?" he nodded weakly, "I love you with everything in me. I'd lost sight of that for awhile, but seeing you today, I know that I love you. And I could never, ever be scared of you. I know what you've done, and I know what you've been through. I know you're scared of those thoughts in your head, and I get it. We're going to get through it together, Rafe. I'm with you, always," you said wholeheartedly, attempting to keep your voice steady.

Rafe's eyes scanned yours, searching for tells that you were speaking the truth. His lips twitched into a relieved small smile after a moment, "I love you," Rafe breathed out, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours.

You closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to his for the first time in months. You sunk into the kiss, only now realizing how much you'd missed the feeling. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only now mixed with love and a few stray tears from Rafe's cheeks.

You were the first to pull away, resting your forehead back on his, "now let's get the hell out of here."

---

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[miss-hyoko]

your "Privileged One" fic is so cute!! i can't help but think though, what if the childhood friend is physically affectionate? 🤔 (would they blush, LOL)

"We're sorry for the wait, dear customer. Your order of [Let Me Hug You!] gado-gado is now served. Tuck in and savor every flavor. If there's anything else we can assist you with, please feel free to reach out."

Let Me Hug You!

Character(s): Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus

Summary: His childhood friend is physically affectionate person

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, pure fluff, platonic but can be read as romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, childhood friends, cute relationship between childhood friends, a hint of him having a crush on you if you squint

Note: Yay~ another childhood friends trope to deliver. Thank you for the amazing request, anon. I hope you like this. If there are any typos or grammar errors, please don't hesitate to let me know.

1. Riddle Rosehearts

The first time you tried to be physically affectionate with Riddle when you both were kids, he was very startled to the point he straight-out jumped away from you like a scared cat. With eyes wide open, it took little Riddle at least a minute to process what had just happened. And when everything finally clicked, a deep blush crept up his cheeks, tinting them a vibrant shade of red. Then, just like a defenseless maiden on the verge of being violated, Riddle screamed loudly while accusing you of being rude.

Although his words sounded harsh, we all know Riddle didn't mean any of it. He just didn't know how to respond because this whole affection thing is quite new to him. Theoretically, he knows what affection is. But practically? He had never experienced it. At least, until you entered his life. It was kind of awkward at first, but over time, Riddle would eventually get used to being on the receiving end of your affection.

After the two of you were successfully accepted into NRC, away from Riddle's mother's strict tutelage, you became even more open with your affection towards Riddle. And although Riddle often scolded you about how you should behave appropriately as a student of NRC, he was secretly pleased by the fact that now he could finally relish himself in your affections without needing to worry about his mother's opinion.

However, no matter how much he liked being showered by your attention, Riddle was still a bit against you being affectionate with him in public. Though, as long as it wasn't too intimate to the point of attracting people's attention, he didn't mind a little act of affection, such as: holding hands, hugging, and a quick kiss on the cheek. If later anyone was stupid enough to mention how red his face was, then Riddle would directly get their head beheaded with zero hesitation.

Among the many gestures of affection you gave him, Riddle liked your temple massage the best. The way your hands move gently on his tight muscles while applying the right pressure never fails to make him relax both his body and mind, releasing the pent-up tension from his body. Enjoying your touch, Riddle sometimes unconsciously falls asleep during the massage session, showing how comfortable he could be with you around him.

2. Leona Kingscholar

Ever since he was little, Leona never liked the idea of having any form of contact with other people, especially ones that included direct touch. So, whenever you try to be affectionate with him, an annoyed frown will make its way to his forehead as he continuously moves to avoid your hug attack with incredible agility. Only after you're too tired to move would Leona finally stop avoiding you and tell you to stop acting affectionately with him since it greatly disgusts him.

Despite saying that, Leona ultimately caved in and allowed you to do whatever you wanted because his heart had a soft spot for you. He told himself many times that he only tolerated your touchy-feely behavior because you're his childhood friend. However, he later became overly accustomed to it to the point he would find it strange if you didn't come to give him affection annoy him, even if only for a day.

In school, many NRC students often saw you hanging out with Leona. No one knows whether you're sticking to him or he's sticking to you, but one thing's for sure; Leona didn't like being disturbed when he was together with you. Those who dared to approach would surely be treated like an enemy by him. With eyes glaring daggers at them, he silently mouthed the words 'fuck off' as a warning to not take another step forward.

Leona never gave a fuck about other people's opinions of him; thus, he doesn't really mind if you're being affectionate with him in public. And even if he did complain, you don't need to take it seriously since it was probably just him being his usual cranky self. Another possible reason may be because Leona's aware of the numerous pairs of eyes focusing on you two, and he doesn't want you to be the subject of negative gossip. Well, even if there are indeed some bad rumors about you, you don't have to worry since he'll take care of it for you. Such a good friend he is, eh?

It's already common knowledge around the school that Leona often used his childhood friend as his personal pillow, so it's not really a surprise to know that his favorite form of affection is cuddling with you while sleeping. The warmth emanating from your body seeps into Leona's skin, reassuring him that you're still by his side. All the while, your steady heartbeat continues to be a constant reminder of your presence.

3. Azul Ashengrotto

The moment you first attempted to express your affection towards Azul with a hug during your childhood, he instantly froze in his place; mouth hung agape and his face flushed a deep shade of red. Worriedly, you tried to touch him to bring him back to reality, but he let out a sudden scream and swiftly swam away to hide in his octopus pot.

Azul is not a stranger to affection, all thanks to his mother who likes to pamper him with kisses. Even so, receiving it from someone outside the family was a brand-new experience for him. Initially, he won't stop fidgeting whenever you try to give him affection. But soon enough, he learned to relax and even reciprocate it, albeit awkwardly. Azul may not openly show it, but he loves the affection you give him and he looks forward to it every day.

Upon enrolling at NRC, Azul, with a heavy heart, had to reduce the frequency of being affectionate with you since he had a professional image to maintain, much to both your and his dismay. He had grown accustomed to being showered with your affection, and now he must stop receiving it? Azul bawled his eyes out in his heart.

Fortunately for him, you still continue to give him your affections every day like usual. Although not as often as before, because you also considered the persona he had worked so hard to create, Azul is still happy to have his daily dose of affection. If other people were nearby, Azul's cheeks would be heating up from embarrassment and he lightly reprimanded you to compose yourself. But who will take his words seriously when he makes little to no effort to push you away.

Surprisingly, Azul's favorite form of affection was when you touch his cheek; smoothing it, pinching it gently, or squeezing it. He loved the way your hand felt against his skin—warm and reassuring. It made him feel special, like he was the only one in your world. And to top it off, you always cooed sweet nothings whenever you did it, which could make Azul feel a bit bashful. But… as long as it's you, Azul won't fight back.

4. Kalim Al Asim

Ever since you were little, you had a unique habit of tackle hugging Kalim every time you two met each other. At first, Kalim was taken by surprise, but then he would quickly reciprocate the hug with an even tighter embrace while bursting into hearty laughter. If it weren't for someone eventually intervening and separating the two of you, there's no doubt that you and Kalim won't end the hug anytime soon.

Being a naturally affectionate person himself, Kalim always welcomed your displays of affection with open arms. In fact, he wholeheartedly encouraged you to express your affection as frequently as you pleased because he's more than ready to receive it with arms open wide.Growing up, the intimacy between the two of you has not diminished even a bit. Instead, it increased to the point that people often misunderstood the relationship between you and Kalim. Kalim himself doesn't find anything unusual about his interactions with you. After all, you and he are best friends, so isn't it natural for you to love each other?

Whenever and wherever, Kalim had no reservations about displaying his affection for you in public. If you happen to pass each other in the hallway and countless eyes are watching, Kalim will still rush to give you a warna hug and a quick peck on the cheek. With a gleam in his eyes, he would then present his cheek to you, hoping you would reciprocate the gesture.

Out of the many affections you have given him, the one Kalim loves the most is your embrace. No matter how often you hug him, Kalim will never get tired of it. Wrapping his two arms around your body, Kalim basks himself in the warmth and comfort of your embrace. For him, there existed no greater place than the sanctuary of your loving arms.

5. Vil Schoenheit

Besides the rosy hues that grace his cheeks, little Vil doesn't show any excessive reactions whenever you're physically affectionate with him. He simply reprimanded you for startling him and then telling you to let him know in advance so he won't be caught off guard next time. All in all, he doesn't mind if you want to be physically affectionate with him.

When he was younger, Vil adorned himself with only the lightest touch of makeup, so he had no problem with you touching or even kissing his face. If it were anyone else, Vil would surely not grant them such privilege. But because you're his childhood friend, you're the only exception.

As he grew older and began to wear makeup more often, Vil started prohibiting you from casually touching him like before. Hugging and holding hands is still tolerable, but touching or kissing his face is only allowed when he's not wearing makeup. Don't misunderstand; Vil still cherishes all the affection you give him, yet his job as a public figure demands him to appear perfect at all times. But don't worry, he's still your Vil Schoenheit in private.

Being both a model and an actor means that Vil's every move is watched by the media and the public eye. Therefore, he strongly forbids you from being affectionate with him in public. He doesn't care if there are negative rumors that may tarnish his reputation; instead, he's more concerned about your life being disturbed by his fans.

When the day is almost over, Vil usually allows you to play with his hair for a while before he starts his nightly routine. He likes feeling your fingers running through his locks, gently caressing them with utmost care. Vil wants to let you know that he's not that fragile, but at the end of the day, he chooses to remain silent and enjoy the affection you give him with a faint smile.

6. Idia Shroud

Whenever you try to get physically affectionate with little Idia, there are always four possible reactions he can give: he might let out a loud shriek, reflexively dodge you, become a stuttering mess, or even do all three in succession.

Let's be real; Idia wasn't a big fan of physical contact with other people. But since it's you, someone he holds dear along with Ortho, he's willing to make a little exception. It took him a while to get used to your touch, but now, when you try to be affectionate with him, he will only get slightly startled with a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

During your time at NRC, you can't be all touchy-feely with Idia as often as before because he rarely shows up in person, opting to send his tablet to fulfill his stead. That's why, every time school is over, you head straight to his room and cling to him like a koala. Although a little flustered, Idia doesn't shy away from your touch; he just asks you to move a bit so he can continue playing his game.

Idia strongly dislikes being affectionate in front of many people and being the center of attention. He'd much rather enjoy your company and affection in the privacy of his room. Plus, being stared at by many people while receiving your affection would distract him from fully savoring the moment.

Idia often tells himself that he's not the biggest fan of physical affection and that he's just getting used to you being touchy-feely. But when you lean against his side, resting your head on his shoulder, Idia will unconsciously lean back on you, savoring the warmth of your presence. At that moment, time seems to slow down as he feels the gentle rhythm of your breath and the comforting weight of your head against him. A small, genuine smile forms on his lips, as if your touch has unlocked his hidden vulnerability and he finds solace in your presence.

7. Malleus Draconia

When you first give little Malleus a physical affection in the form of a hug, he is taken aback for a few seconds before a small smile adorns his slightly blushing face. Without hesitating, Malleus would take your hand into his and ask you to repeat what you just did earlier, eyes sparkling with excitement as he waited for you to hug him again.

Being the crown prince of the Briar Valley, Malleus was both respected and feared, causing others to maintain a cautious distance from him. In the big palace he called home, Malleus always felt lonely all by himself. So when you entered his gloomy life and gave him the affection he had always craved, Malleus couldn't help but become attached to you. As a young fae, he was quite clingy back then, often asking you to hold his hand, hug him, and occasionally requesting a kiss on his cheek.

The NRC students, no matter how frequently they witnessed it, forever found themselves astounded when they caught sight of you randomly giving the legendary Malleus Draconia a surprise hug from behind. What made it even more remarkable was that Malleus himself didn't display any sign of displeasure. On the contrary, a gentle smile graced his lips as he playfully pinched your nose, revealing his enjoyment of your endearing acts. It was evident that he welcomed your playful gestures and had no intention of putting an end to them.

If you choose to shower Malleus with affection in the presence of others, rest assured that he will not harbor any anger or annoyance. Instead, a light chuckle would escape his lips as he let you do as you please. By demonstrating your affection for one another, Malleus believes it lets people know that you and him have a very good relationship that was built on a strong foundation of trust and affection.

It's not wrong to say that Malleus enjoys holding hands with you wherever you both go, but if he had to choose, Malleus prefers it more when you play with his hands. Whether it's comparing the size of your hands, tracing the lines on his palm, or simply interlocking your fingers together. Through these seemingly simple gestures, Malleus discovers an unparalleled sense of happiness. Each touch, each moment of connection, carries a profound significance for him, serving as a testament to the depth of your bond together.

[bellaxgiornata]

Break the Tension [Chapter Three: "The Fire"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k

[Full summary and series chapter list can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi-public sex, light angst

a/n: It has been SO LONG since this one had an update, but here you all finally go! This one might give y'all whiplash. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @mattkinsella @danzer8705 @pazii @paracosmic-murdock @xxdrixx @haydensith @mixedfandomthings @lilbanas @dorothleah

Swirling the beer inside the bottle in your hand, you had been overly aware of Matt’s focus on you from across the manor’s back patio this entire evening. It didn’t matter that he was blind and his gaze was covered by those dark glasses of his, you could tell every time he’d zeroed in on you whenever you’d spoken among the group you'd sat with that evening. It was like he couldn’t resist the sound of your voice, drawn to it every time you opened your mouth. But you’d caught the way his lips had always thinned out along his face at the sound of it, as if it irritated him that he couldn't stop being so aware of your presence even though he hadn’t been among the group you’d been talking to at the time.

You’d admittedly been enjoying his reaction to you for the past hour as you’d sat drinking down your beer and getting warm by the fire. Though recently Marci had come over and introduced you to a woman by the name of Karen, a beautiful blonde who apparently worked with Matt and Foggy as a lawyer and partner herself at their law firm. The pair of them had taken a seat near you, and as the conversation flowed between the three of you–Karen apparently very curious and interested in the fact that you’d also gone to law school at Columbia with her close friends and firm partners–you’d noticed the group you’d been sitting with had quickly broke off. Eventually Matt and Foggy had found their way over to the three of you and joined in on the reminiscing, but it hadn’t failed your notice the way Matt would jump in, still occasionally shooting off rude comments to you whenever he could.

“So how does it feel,” Karen asked, gesturing her almost empty wine glass at you after you’d once again rebuffed one of Matt’s rude comments, “to be one of the few women immune to Matthew Murdock's charm? Because I’ve seen countless women fall prey to it, even opposing counsel on cases. But you seem…surprisingly unaffected. And I’ve never actually seen him be so blatantly hostile before.”

Matt scowled in his chair but remained silent, instead focusing on twirling the beer bottle he held between his hands. At least it wasn’t going unnoticed that he was being a jerk.

“It’s easy to ignore,” you told her, drawing your bottle up to your lips for another drink, “when he doesn't actually have any charm.”

Beside you, Marci sputtered on the sip of wine she'd just taken as you took a drink from your bottle. She coughed lightly into a hand as next to her, Foggy’s eyes grew double their size and  flew over towards Matt in shock. Across the little circle you'd all made, Matt openly scoffed in response. His hands stopped twirling the beer bottle, instead visibly gripping the neck of it in irritation. On your other side, Karen threw a hand over her mouth, attempting to stifle the amused giggle that slipped out of her at your response. 

“The only reason she says that,” Matt countered, tone bitter, “is because I’ve never actually used it on her.”

Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the bottle back to your lap. Your eyes narrowed in irritation at his red lenses and that faint smirk on his lips. As you sat there focused on Matt, you could feel Marci, Foggy, and Karen suddenly sucking in a collective breath, but you paid them no further attention. Instead, you were busy recalling the advances Matt had made on you not that long ago this evening. Clearly he was trying to save face, considering the revelation you’d recently had when he’d barged into your room and tried to sleep with you after the rehearsal dinner.

“Oh really?” you asked. “You sure about that? Sure you've never tried to charm me, Murdock?”

“Yeah, I am,” he replied stiffly. “Though I’m guessing part of your anger towards me comes from the fact that I never flirted with you in college. I guess someone’s just disappointed they were always passed over.”

A humorless laugh slipped out of you immediately, the sound drawing a deep frown to Matt’s mouth. 

“Passed over?” you asked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

By now, Foggy, Marci, and Karen were sitting with rapt attention, their eyes darting back and forth between the pair of you like they were watching a tennis match. But your focus was solely on Matt and the challenge he was once again drawing you into. You weren't just going to sit there and take his insults quietly. 

“You tried to sleep with almost every single young woman you came across on Columbia’s campus, Murdock,” you continued, hoping he could at least feel the glare you were shooting him. “You were nothing but an absolute asshole to me for the duration of our time at law school together. If anything, I was thrilled to avoid the walking health hazard that threw himself at everything with tits and focus on my studies instead.” You shot him a dark smile, drawing your beer back up to your lips. “You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are, I can assure you of that.”

Matt’s lips pursed, his grip somehow tightening on his beer bottle even further. It looked like he would shatter it if he held it any tighter. You noticed a muscle beginning to twitch in his cheek and one of your brows rose in triumph onto your forehead. Because you knew that he thought you’d be some sort of easy lay this weekend, and he was most certainly going to be proven very wrong. If he wanted you–especially if he was going to continue to be an ass–he was going to have to beg you for whatever it was that he wanted. And you'd certainly enjoy the sight of that.

“Whoa…” Foggy breathed out from the other side of Marci. “It’s been years since I’ve seen another woman speak like that to Matt. I forgot it was possible for women to not fall at his feet...” He shook his head, the look of awe washing off his face immediately. “I mean I know you two have always had… issues with each other, but to see that you really are still immune to his cocky smiles and witty replies is truly still a sight to behold. Especially because I’ve witnessed him charm the pants off many, many women over the years.”

You huffed out a laugh, glancing down at your almost finished drink. “And somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” you muttered. “Still a fuck boy even after graduation. What a shock.”

“Fuck boy?” Matt asked in distaste, his lip curling up into a sneer. “I’m far from that, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes before turning towards Karen. She shot you a tentative smile, brushing some blonde hair behind her ear.

“You started off as an office manager for their firm before becoming a lawyer, right?” you asked her.

“Uh, well, yes,” she answered hesitantly.

“And did Murdock ever try to charm you while you were working for him?” you asked her. “Ever flirt with you? Take you out?”

Her blue eyes darted towards Matt briefly before they landed back on you, her lip catching nervously between her teeth. By the look on her face you already knew the answer to your question. 

“Well, we dated briefly,” she admitted. “But things didn’t really end up working out.”

Your head spun back towards Matt, a smug smile on your face. “You tried to sleep with your own office manager, Murdock. My point stands. You’ve always been a fuck boy. Apparently becoming an adult never changed that.”

“And apparently you’re still a bit of a bitter bitch,” Matt snapped in return. 

Marci’s hands flew out in the space between the small circle of chairs you were all sitting in, effectively cutting you both off as the tension palpably began to grow. Your teeth grit together in irritation, anger burning inside of you. He'd never stooped so low before as to call you a bitch, even if admittedly you'd made some low blows yourself this evening. 

“Okay, I think it’s time for a topic change before someone starts throwing drinks at the other,” Marci said with a nervous laugh. “Let's not forget that we're all here for a happy occasion this weekend.”

“You’re right, I'm sorry,” you apologized, rising to your feet. “I think I’ll head to bed now anyway. Seems like a good time.”

Across the circle the five of you had made, Matt abruptly rose from his chair, too. Your eyes fell back on him, your teeth still grinding back and forth together in annoyance. You just wanted to get away from him already.

For a moment he didn't say anything, just stood there awkwardly across from you, one hand repeatedly readjusting the grip he now had on his cane almost as if he was nervous. The gesture had your eyes narrowing at him suspiciously.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Matt finally said, voice tense. “Maybe that's what we both need. Some rest. Do you mind helping me back to my room since it's beside yours?”

Both of your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead in shock at the absolute audacity of him asking you to walk him to his room after he'd just called you a bitch. Even Marci, Foggy, and Karen looked baffled beyond belief as they sat there openly gaping at Matt. 

But that's when you realized the bridal party and members of Foggy and Marci’s family that were sitting nearby had glanced up from their conversations at Matt's request, listening in because both of you standing had caught their attention. If you refused him, you'd look like an asshole in front of everyone. 

The fucking jerk had done that on purpose .

“You want me to walk you back to your room?” you asked through gritted teeth. “Is that what you just asked me?”

“Yes,” he replied with a curt nod. “I'm still fairly unfamiliar with my surroundings here.”

Of course he was going to play up the fact that he needed assistance. What a Matthew Murdock thing to do–one of his tried and true methods back in college.

“Fine,” you grudgingly ground out between your teeth.

You'd barely stepped around your chair before Matt held up a hand, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead behind his glasses. 

“Do you mind escorting me?” he asked. “Makes it easier for me to navigate in a new place. And I'd rather not end up with a black eye because I ran into something and ruin tomorrow's photos for Marci and Fog.”

Your hands curled into fists momentarily at your sides. “Fucking Murdock,” you cursed under your breath. 

“Uh, Matt, buddy,” Foggy said quickly, rising from his own chair before you could answer, “maybe I should just walk you back–”

“That's alright, Fog,” Matt replied casually, shooting his friend a little smile. “I'd hate to take you away from the evening, and since she is already going the same way…”

“It's fine,” you assured Foggy bitterly.

Foggy’s shoulders dropped as he slowly sank back down into his seat. He didn't look remotely convinced that this was a good idea, and honestly, you knew it wasn't going to be, either. More time alone with Matt would only result in more animosity between you and him, but at least in a few days you’d never have to see him again. 

You'd just have to keep reminding yourself that for the rest of the weekend.

Making your way around the circle of chairs and over towards Matt, you reluctantly grabbed the wrist of his outstretched arm before guiding his hand to the crook of your elbow just as you'd always seen Foggy do before. Of course you'd never actually walked with Matt anywhere before yourself, so you didn't exactly know what guiding him truly entailed, but part of you almost didn't care if you saw him trip at this point. 

Wordlessly you began to maneuver the pair of you around the group of chairs, noticing the nervous smile of reassurance that Marci sent you before you turned and headed back towards the building. You carefully led the pair of you around a few more groups of people chatting and drinking before finally reaching the double doors that led back inside to the manor’s foyer. Pulling them open, you guided Matt into the building with you, but once the doors had closed behind you, you realized what a truly horrible idea this was. 

Now you were alone with him. Again.

Making a straight line across the foyer towards the hallway where your rooms were located, you tried to set a brisk pace. Internally you prayed he'd just keep his damn mouth shut for the duration of this walk together, not wanting to hear another word from him today. You didn't feel like continuing the argument you'd both somehow found yourselves in outside because Marci was right, this was her weekend. You didn't want to ruin it.

But of course, this was Matthew Murdock and he just had to fucking open his mouth again.

“About earlier, I–”

“How about we don't talk?” you rudely suggested, abruptly cutting him short. “I think it's better that way.”

A beat of silence passed as your heels clacked loudly along the floor. You heard Matt clear his throat beside you, and then to your great annoyance, he stupidly opened his mouth again. 

“Well I was actually trying to apologize,” he began in irritation. “If you'd just not interrupt me for a single second, you'd have realized that.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at him as the pair of you entered the hallway where your rooms were located. His hand tightened its hold around your inner arm and you desperately hoped you could actually make it all the way to the end of the hall without stabbing him with one of your heels. 

“Sure you were,” you muttered. 

“I was,” he countered. “Calling you a bitch was out of line and rude. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just, sometimes you–you drive me fucking crazy .”

A bitter laugh fell out of you instantly. You couldn't believe the gall of this guy. First he's rude to you, then he tries to sleep with you, later he calls you a bitch, then proceeds to apologize while simultaneously blaming you for him throwing out the insult in the first place.

“Anyone ever tell you that you're shit at apologies, Murdock?” you told him, eyes focused straight ahead on your room at the end of the hallway. “Because you are.”

“No, that's–that's not what I meant,” he stammered in frustration. 

Before you knew what was happening, Matt had tugged your arm sharply, pulling you to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Your heels slipped slightly along the floor at the unexpected and abrupt halt he’d drawn you to. If it wasn't for the firm grip Matt still had on your inner arm, you’d probably have tripped and fallen on your ass. 

You'd barely blinked before he'd spun you on the spot, walking you backwards until your back bumped against the hallway wall. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of you at the impact. You stared up at him in shock and confusion as the elegant wallpaper behind you scratched against the backs of your bare legs.

“Murdock, what the hell are you doing?” you demanded.

Matt released your arm, his hand coming to land against the wall beside your shoulder instead. His other hand was leaning his cane along the wall on your other side, and then that hand too landed flat against the wall beside your hip. It took you a moment to realize that he had caged you in between his arms just before he leaned in towards you. There was an almost pained look on his face as it hovered just inches before yours, the sight of which was only further confusing you.

Your breath immediately came in short at the unexpected closeness of him to you, your own heart thudding heavily in your throat. Half of you wanted to knee him in the balls for whatever he was up to and continue your way on to your room alone, but the other half of you was curious to see how this would play out. Grudgingly you had to admit that he was obnoxiously attractive and you almost wouldn't mind if he finally admitted that he wanted you. Because maybe if he begged you right here and now–just openly admitted in some way that you were right for once–you'd actually take him back to your room and see if he really was a great lay. With the way the buttons were straining on his shirt now, stretched apart just enough to reveal a bit of toned skin beneath it, and the way his stubble accentuated the sharp lines of his cheekbones, you couldn't deny that you were finding yourself turned on.

But you refused to be the one to admit it first.

“You're right, I was being an asshole,” he confessed.

Your mouth fell open in shock immediately. He had never admitted that to you before. Not once had he ever accepted the blame for his actions. What the hell was happening right now?

“I'm sorry,” he added. “Really. You aren't a bitch. I just–just can't seem to help myself around you. You always get so easily angry and riled up with me, and then you make such irritatingly good comebacks like no one else I know that it's like…the comments just come out of me before I can stop them. But this is our friends’ big wedding weekend and…I'll try my best to control myself. To behave.”

Swallowing hard, your focus shifted down to his lips. You figured it had to have been the alcohol in your system making you suddenly want to know what they felt like on yours. It had to be the alcohol that had a heat building inside of you when you watched them move again as he continued to speak.

“So what do you say?” he asked, voice dropping down to a sultry rumble. “Truce?”

Your hands were twisting the hem of your dress, your gaze still lingering along his lips. You'd never truly noticed just how soft they looked before. Or that they were such a pleasant shade of pink.

“I just want to enjoy my weekend,” you answered him, annoyed at how breathless you suddenly sounded. “Celebrate my friends’ wedding. So if you can–can play nice for a few days, then so can I.”

Matt took a step forward towards you, closing the already miniscule bit of space between the pair of your bodies. Your back pressed further against the wall behind you as your hands released your dress, flying forward almost involuntarily and landing flat on his chest. Whether to push him away or just because you wanted to touch him, you honestly couldn't say. But your index finger had somehow landed on a bit of warm skin poking out between the strained buttons of his dress shirt. Now you couldn’t focus on anything else besides how warm and smooth his skin felt in that small little patch. You were suddenly aware of just how solid he was beneath your hands, too. Far more muscular than he even appeared beneath his snug suit coat and dress shirt. 

Your teeth ground tight together as you tried to focus on your breathing, but Matt’s hand slid across the wall and lightly landed on your hip. The heat of his palm settled so resolutely there had a shiver running up your spine. Eyes darting back up towards his face, you’d noticed his lips had parted just a fraction, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“You smell so good,” he whispered.

Legs beginning to feel weak in your heels, you were practically letting the wall hold you steady now. Struggling to take a full breath, you replied, “Well that’s the–” you paused, clearing your throat and hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your voice had quivered. “That’s sort of the purpose of perfume,” you finished lamely.

He began to lean in closer towards you, bringing lips so close to yours that you could feel each passing exhale from his mouth brush over your own. You had no idea what had come over you–though you figured it had something to do with the fact that he’d apologized and called for a truce–but you weren’t pushing him away. You didn’t want to.

Which surprised even yourself.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured. “Tell me no.”

As the tip of his nose faintly brushed against yours, you weren’t sure whether he was asking you to tell him no or giving you the option to. But either way, your mouth couldn’t form a single word. Instead, your fingers dug into his chest, bracing yourself for something– anything at this point. It felt like there was a fire gradually beginning to build beneath every inch of your skin now. You’d never felt anything like it before, but you wanted more .

Slowly–almost painfully so–Matt closed the remaining distance between your mouths. The touch of his lips against yours was barely there, only that of a simple, hesitant peck. He pulled back a fraction, a deep, rumbling noise vibrating in his chest. Your fingers suddenly curled into his dress shirt, drawing him closer to you as your mind could only focus on one thought: you wanted to kiss him.

Matt’s hand on your hip gripped tighter as he pressed you further back into the wall. Then without further warning he dove forward, slamming his mouth to yours like he’d been waiting far too long for this very moment. His other hand was suddenly at your neck, holding you firmly in place before him as his lips connected with yours over and over in such a heated passion that you couldn’t catch a single breath.  

As if they were moving on their own, your hands slid their way up his chest, one of them grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss while the other wound its way into his dark hair. You gripped a fistful of the strands tight between your fingers, your mouth desperately trying to match the feverish pace Matt’s was setting as a lightheadedness washed over you. 

Before you could register he’d moved, his lips were making a trail of kisses down the length of your jaw and towards your neck. Your head fell back against the wall as your grip on him only tightened, your eyes closing in sheer ecstasy. You couldn’t believe how good he was with just his mouth and you fought the moan that was beginning to build in the back of your throat.

His hand on your hip slid its way down, pausing on the bare skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. Seconds later you felt him bury his nose into your neck, inhaling softly as he dragged it along the length of your skin, his stubble pleasantly scratching against you as he moved. An almost inaudible whimper left him just before his hips pressed forward firmly into your own. You could feel his growing arousal pressing against your thigh now, both of your hands fisting handfuls of his hair as his lips hovered at your neck.

Then that traitorous moan finally loosed itself from inside of you, slipping past your lips when he gently nipped a sensitive spot along your neck. The sound was sinful in the otherwise silent hallway, and somehow that only made it seem louder. With something like a growl, Matt’s mouth moved further downward just before his lips latched onto your exposed collarbone, sucking on the patch of skin. You hissed out a noise of pleasure between your teeth in response just before his tongue began to run along the length of it.

But when his hand slowly began to slide further up beneath your dress, his hips sensually grinding his erection into your thigh in a way that felt far too fucking good, your eyes abruptly flew open. Sense suddenly came flooding back to you as your breath caught in your throat. 

Because you were in the goddamn hallway with Matthew fucking Murdock kissing you.

“Stop,” you gasped out.

At the sound of your voice, Matt immediately froze. His lips released your skin and his hand paused its movement, his fingertips a matter of inches from your panties. You were painfully aware of the faint wet patch that had begun to form, something almost like embarrassment flooding you. Thankfully his hand hadn't made its way near enough to notice, something you were grateful for.

Disentangling your hands from his hair, they landed firmly on his shoulders. You gave him a determined, solid push against them and he stepped back, his hands returning easily to his sides. Though you noticed the way his chest was heaving and how disheveled his hair looked. His lips were damp with saliva and his face was flushed as he gazed back at you, dark brows knitted together in a mixture of what looked like concern and confusion. 

And you could plainly see the bulge still present in his dress pants, which only had your teeth biting down onto your lip. Because you had so easily turned him on, too. 

“I–I told you I wouldn't be some easy fuck,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “Not like all those other women you’ve been with. That's–that's not me, Murdock. I’m not them.”

For a second it almost looked like he’d winced before he opened his mouth.

“Sweetheart, you're–”

You held up a hand, more vigorously shaking your head. “No, don't call me that,” you warned him, still painfully aware of how your blood was burning at the sight of him like this before you. “If you want me you're going to–to have to admit it,” you told him, trying hard to catch your breath. “Admit that you want me, Murdock. That you’ve always wanted me. Without that, things aren’t going any further than…this.”

You pushed yourself off of the wall, aware he was still standing there staring at you in shock and confusion. You skirted around him, no longer trusting yourself to walk him to his room after that heated and unexpected kiss.

“Your room is just about fifteen more feet down the hall and on your right,” you called over your shoulder. “I'm sure you can find your way there from here.”

Picking up your pace, you hurried down the rest of the hallway to your room as well. You just wanted to get away from this confusing moment. Because Matthew Murdock shouldn't have been able to make you feel quite like that. Not nearly as easily as he had. Not after everything you’d endured with him in college and how rude he’d been to you earlier.

It had to have been the alcohol mixed with his apology. That was all it was. Because you refused to believe that you couldn't control yourself around Matthew Murdock–that you might actually want him, too.

[ab4eva]

‘Ain’t That Loving You Baby’

Summary: Reader is out of sorts all day - grumpy, petulant, rude and just plain bitchy. Elvis takes it upon himself to set her straight.

Warnings: NFSW 18+, spanking, non-con spanking, established relationship, time period related ideas about marriage/relationships, copious use of pet names, use of the term “daddy”, fingering, aftercare, fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note: Y’all, sometimes inspiration for a fic strikes in the most unexpected of ways, as with this one. I know this isn’t everyone’s cuppa, so if I’ve tagged you and you aren’t into it, apologies and please just keep right on scrolling. Now please enjoy one of my top Elvis fantasies that I will write in as many different ways as humanly possible until the day I die.

Word count: 3.6k

-

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it - why you were so out of sorts today. One minute you were close to tears, feeling sensitive and tender if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way or seemed the least bit careless with you. The next minute you were blowing up at some poor member of the Memphis Mafia, Vernon or even Elvis himself. You were grumpy, combative, and just generally in a very bad mood. It was as if a black cloud were hanging over your head, following your every step, raining on your own personal parade just to piss you off. The worst part was you knew you were being a brat but you were powerless to stop it. You felt itchy and irritated, on edge from the moment you stepped out the front doors of Graceland that morning to run your errands.

It didn’t help that when you returned, Elvis and the boys were lounging in the living room, making a right mess of things - beer bottles littering every surface, ash trays full to the brim with cigar ash, dirty plates covering the floor - it looked like a literal bomb had gone off. You’d just cleaned the entire house yesterday from top to bottom. Elvis had begged you to hire a housekeeper after you’d gotten married, but you were old fashioned, you saw it as the wife’s job to keep a clean house. And so you did…until all of these beastly men came and messed it up again. You surveyed the mess, a look of displeasure coloring your pretty face, your hands clenched into tight fists. Your heart pounded as you dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm and tried very hard not to scream.

“Oh hey Y/N,” Red said lazily, the first of them to notice you standing in the doorway. “These cookies are damn delicious.” Your eyes zeroed in on his hand and you saw he held one of your freshly baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, the ones you’d painstakingly made dozens of last night. They were meant for the cookie exchange your book club was having tomorrow. Your eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the men in the living room, all of them perched here and there on the furniture or the floor… and all of them with cookies in their hands. The big platter heaped with cookies you had carefully placed on top of the fridge now sat almost empty in the middle of the coffee table. Your eyes found Elvis’s as you inhaled sharply and gave him a look that could kill. He had the good grace to look abashed as he quickly dropped the cookie he was holding, standing up slowly from where he sat on the couch as he moved towards you, holding both hands in front of him in a gesture meant to placate you but it only enraged you further.

“Now baby, we didn’t mean to eat all these here cookies, but you know they’re my favorite and I-I-I couldn’t resist. And I had to share with the guys, otherwise what kind of host would I be?” His blue eyes were sparkling with something close to amusement and his voice dripped honey, soft and low, soothing. He knew the look you were giving him, knew he had to tread carefully.

“Elvis…baby,” you said in a dangerous and mocking whisper, “those cookies were for my book club.” You spat the words out through gritted teeth, barely containing your rage. The thing is, you were usually so easygoing, so even-keeled, the very definition of hospitable to guests in your home. Normally, this wouldn’t even phase you. But today? It made you so angry you could barely speak. Poor Jerry had the unfortunate thought at that moment to try and smooth the situation over by offering to clean up the mess they’d made only to have you snap at him (“Don’t bother! None of you had the bright idea to even think before turning my living room into a pigsty!”) as you stomped out of the room.

Things didn’t end there as your rampage continued for the rest of the day, cutting down anyone and anything daring to cross your path. Vernon made the mistake of asking you about a shopping bill for some new dresses you purchased last week, innocently wanting to know the total so he could add it to the monthly expense account. You almost wrung his neck - the sheer audacity of the man! The Colonel came sweeping in cheerily in the late afternoon, trying to pull one of his old carney tricks on you, thinking it would lighten your mood. It had the opposite effect and you told him off so completely that even Elvis had to chuckle at it with a bemused smile. But the final straw came that evening, as you and Elvis sat peacefully (for his part, at least) in the living room, quietly reading after a rather tense dinner. You made some snide, off the cuff remark aimed at the way your husband’s business was being run and in an instant, you knew you’d stepped over the line, pushed Elvis past the limit of what he’s willing to take.

As soon as the words fly out of your mouth you wish you could pull them back in, gather the broken pieces of them and keep them inside. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying to his face, realizing your mistake too late, realizing your bad mood has landed you here, in uncharted territory. Only once before had you taken things too far - two weeks after your wedding - Elvis had stormed out of the house in a barely suppressed rage only to return the next morning, acting as if nothing had even happened. You see his body still and his blue eyes widen in surprise before they darken, anger and annoyance flashing across his face before being replaced with a look of willful determination. You know that look, it’s the one he gets when he has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, won’t let go until he gets what he wants. Your heart speeds up in your chest, pounding almost painfully, you feel a little lightheaded and your mouth goes dry. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth to apologize, to take back the words you’ve already said, anything at all to stop this train from hurtling off the cliff. “Elvis, I-,” the words start to tumble from your mouth in a rush before he cuts you off angrily.

“That’s enough!” he yells, his voice booming loud and firm, your ears ringing with the force of it. “Now listen here, girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but that’s. Enough.” His voice is now dangerously low as he punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in your direction, his gold rings glittering wildly in the soft light of the room. He stands abruptly and strides towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you there. You struggle against him, beating his solid chest with your closed fists like a child, not wanting to be held.

“Lemme go…let me go!” you practically scream in his face. Something inside you refuses to be comforted in this moment, you feel as if he’s suffocating you. You don’t want him to touch you, don’t want him near you. And yet, it’s all you want, to be here, in his arms. His deliciously musky scent fills your nostrils as he presses your head into his shirt in an attempt to calm you. His chest is heaving with restrained emotion and his wiry chest hairs tickle your nose through his unbuttoned collar. Confusion swirls in your brain, you’re too upset to sort through the emotions that have been tormenting you all day as you thrash against him. His lip curls up in an annoyed smirk as he grabs your flailing fists, pinning them to your side as his jaw clenches, his strong arms vise-like as he clutches you tightly to his chest.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me why ya got a bee in your britches, darlin. Why ya been a goddamn brat all goddamn day… or I’m gonna make ya tell me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. His eyes search yours and his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to keep you in check as you still struggle against him. You can see the vein in his neck, the one that drives you wild, popping out - which means he’s excited or angry - or both.

“I’d like to see you try,” you spit at him scornfully, your bright eyes challenging him, your lip turning up into a slight sneer as you wriggle some more.

“Don’t test me, little one. I think someone needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the one to give it to ya.” He squeezes you tighter in his arms as you squirm, still trying to break free, and suddenly you’re having a little trouble breathing. You stop moving for a moment and his grip loosens just a little as you gulp in a breath of air. “As your husband, it’s my job to set you right when you’re misbehaving. So I’m gonna ask ya again, darlin - why are ya so outta sorts today?”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s just a bad day. You remember waking up and feeling fine, maybe a little tired. Elvis was already gone, his side of the bed cold and empty. He’d been distracted with contract negotiations when you found him in the kitchen, already eating breakfast. Without you. You had wanted to tell him a story about something that happened yesterday that made you think of him. But just as you were about to he was up and out for a meeting, without ever kissing you good morning. Or goodbye. All of these little things, you suddenly realize, subconsciously added up to you feeling neglected and uncared for by him. They had curled inside your belly without you knowing, sending sad thoughts to your brain all day long. You bite your lip as it all comes rushing in and you feel yourself close to tears.

You can’t tell him these things. They’re all too silly, too small, too insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. You just stare at him, your chest heaving, your eyes silently pleading with him to understand as a tear slips down your cheek unbidden. He softens for a moment, a dozen different thoughts flashing across his readable face. He gently wipes your tear with his thumb and presses a kiss to your cheek where it fell. Then he nods once, as if making up his mind about something. He releases you, grabbing your wrist again, practically dragging you over to the big, comfy chair at the edge of the living room. You go rather willingly, unsure of what his plan is. His other hand settles on the back of your neck, gently, as he starts to push you down over the back of the chair. You suddenly understand that something you have no control over is about to happen and you start to fight him again. But he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist as he keeps pushing your head down until you are bent almost in two over the back of the chair. If his iron grip on you didn’t entirely prevent you from moving, his strong, lean body standing behind you and pressing you into the chair does.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you down.” His voice in your ear is breathy, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Don’t think I won’t, honey. You’ve been ornery all day and you don’t get a say in what happens now, ya hear me? Just remember, this is for your own good. And I love you.” You stop moving, knowing he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to see this through. He releases his grip on you and steps to the side, his left arm settling heavily across your back to hold you down as he rucks your short dress up around your hips. You feel him run a hand across your round ass, cupping it and squeezing softly. You hear what can only be described as a delighted breath escaping his lips behind you, the soft huff of a chuckle, his ribcage expanding against your arm as he breathes deeply. The pressure as he grips your ass gets harder and harder before he suddenly stops and his cool fingers toy with the edge of your panties around your waist before he unceremoniously yanks them down to your ankles.

“Last chance, baby,” he says through gritted teeth, his tone stern as he pins you to the chair. You start to squirm again, panic rising in your chest. He’s about to spank you. He…he’s never done that before. Not even for fun. Your body starts to tremble and you shake your head, refusing to speak. You feel him raise his right hand and a ghost of a breeze whispers across your bare bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, your heart banging painfully in your chest, preparing as best you know how. You haven’t been spanked since you were a little girl and there’s something wrong, and slightly exciting, about it.

He delivers the first slap to your bottom with a firm, open palm, the impact of it echoing throughout the living room, the only other noise that can be heard is the ticking of a clock, your gasp and Elvis’s heavy breathing. You inhale sharply at the sting of it, but it isn’t as terrible as you were expecting and it dissipates quickly. You let out the breath you’d been holding, if this is all it is you can handle it. All is quiet and still behind you, and you wonder if that’s it…until you feel him lean down to speak in your ear again.

“That was just a warm up, little girl, ain’t gonna go that easy on ya for the rest of ‘em,” he murmurs, and you hear the love in his stern voice as you try and process what he’s saying. The rest of them? That was going easy? You start to wiggle, trying to break free once again and realize the whimpering noise filling the room is coming from your mouth. Before you can get too worked up he swats you again, twice in quick succession, a little harder than before.

“Ow!” you yell, incensed by your situation, kicking your feet a little. “That hurt!” You spit out through gritted teeth, angry now. “Elvis Aaron Presley, you let me go this instant!” Your demands are met with an amused laugh, and you let out a frustrated growl, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp.

“I see I haven’t sorted you out yet, honey. Still got some of that brattiness left in ya that needs to be broken. Your choice, little girl.” Elvis lets a small laugh slip, his eyes on your body as he slowly and deliberately brings his hand down on your ass again. It’s strong and forceful, but not cruel. It leaves you breathless, speechless. Finally the stinging has permeated your skin and refuses to leave. It’s starting to be uncomfortable and you can tell that if he doesn’t quit soon you’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.

“You’ve been petulant, rude, acting like a damn child all day. And that’s not the woman I know and love, the woman I married. No wife of mine is gonna act that like that and get away with it - not to my friends, not to my father, and especially not to me. Do you understand?” His hand gently cups you as he lectures, rubbing softly over what must be your quickly reddening ass. You hiss and grip the the pillow in front of you. “Answer me, girl. Do you understand?”

You’re not done pouting…if he thinks he can break you, sort you out, punish you - let him try. You stay willfully silent, refusing to speak. You hear him sigh as he removes his hand from you and you brace yourself for another round.

“Have it your way, darlin’…I’m gonna give you six more and if you’re still in a state, then we’re gonna have to have a serious talk, you and me," Elvis says, suddenly quiet and solemn and your heart drops in your chest. Maybe this isn’t some game he’s playing? You didn’t realize it was as important as he’s now letting on. You know you were a total bitch today and you do regret your words and actions… You cry out as he spanks you again without warning, his palm landing with more force than he’s given you so far. He continues and the spanking is relentless, but there's also something almost hypnotic about it. It feels like his hand is on your skin forever, but before you know it, it's almost over. And unexpectedly you realize the last couple of swats have sent lightening straight to your core, your nipples are tight buds rubbing deliciously against the coarse fabric of the chair through your thin dress and you’re surprised to feel slickness gathering on your thighs. You don’t know when your cries turned to breathy moans but he stops abruptly as he hears you, still two spankings left to give.

You’re breathing heavily, still clutching the decorative pillow adorning the chair as you clench around nothing, surprising yourself and Elvis as an obscene squelching noise echoes across the now quiet living room. You let out a breathless laugh, flushing a deep red, thankful he can’t see the embarrassment written across your face. You feel Elvis laughing silently as well, quiet little snorts as he tries and fails to keep from giggling.

“Well now, this is a development I wasn’t expecting,” he murmurs in your ear, leaning over you, his warm breath floating across your cheek. You turn your face towards his, your glassy eyes trying to focus on him as you blink slowly. “Now that it seems I’ve sorted you out, what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t also take care of my baby?” His right hand squeezes your bottom lightly as his left arm finally releases you and his hand slips underneath your hips, his long, cool fingers gently sliding up your soaking folds. Your breath hitches at his touch, letting out a whimper as he reaches your aching clit, circling it deftly with calloused fingers, once, twice, before dipping two of them into your wet heat.

“Goddamn, mama, so needy for me? Maybe I oughta spank ya more often,” he says breathlessly, his voice taut with desire. You know your husband well - it’s the way he sounds when his cock is hard and straining against his pants, aching to be set free. He’s probably already starting to leak, you think dimly, and the thought has you fluttering around him.

“Oh…” you manage to breathe out as he starts to pump his fingers into you agonizingly slow, his thumb finding your clit and applying light pressure. You rock your hips, already so close to the edge you can almost taste it. His right hand smacks your ass hard and you jolt forward, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his punishing hand on your backside has you starting to whine, unable to stop. He speeds up the movement of his hand, curling his digits just so into that sensitive and spongy part of you just as he delivers the final slap to your ass that has you clenching tightly around his fingers nestled inside you, coming harder than you have in a while, your high-pitched whine turning silent as you stop breathing for a moment. He groans above you and you feel him shaking slightly as he bends over your body - you know it’s taking everything in him to hold it together. After a few moments, he slowly releases you, helping you stand and your legs immediately buckle underneath you. Elvis grabs you under your arms to try and keep you from falling but you’re both so weak with spent energy and desire - yours fulfilled, his aching - that you both tumble to the ground in a heap.

"There. All sorted out, sweetheart?" Elvis smiles down at you as your head rests against his shoulder, his arm encircling your waist. His voice is rough but tender as he smoothes the hair back from your face. "How did daddy do?" he asks, a smirk pulling his lush lips up into a lopsided grin. You blink dazedly, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Daddy?” you finally say, rolling the unfamiliar word around on your tongue. “Hmm, I could get used to that, I think.” You smile softly as your hand reaches up to cup his face, your thumb brushing the scratchy stubble across his jaw as your eyes turn serious. “I am sorry, Elvis. For all of it,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“Shh, little one, I know,” he says, kissing your forehead softly and pulling you closer into himself, cradling you on his chest as your hand nestles in his chest hair, right above his heart that beats only for you.

And at book club the next day, when you’re settled on a mountain of pillows, no one even bats an eye.

-

Tags - I don’t have a general tag list so I’m just tagging some lovies who have enjoyed my previous fics: @jelliedonut @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @butlersxbirdy @missmaywemeetagain @headfullofpresley @powerofelvis @notstefaniepresley @amydarcimarie @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @sillybookmarks @melancholicbutterflies @thatbanditqueen @eliseinmemphis @godlypresley @ccab @richardslady121 @rjmartin11 @claire-elvisgirl @literally-just-elvis-fics

[frostbitebakery]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I got tagged by @marbled-polecat and @cacodaemonia 💜

I GOT THIS (don’t look at me like that I really got this jeez)

Day 5:

“What the ever loving fuck was that,” Bly screeches and gestures at Obi-Wan. “What the ever loving fuck is that?”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Cody says and crosses his arms. “He saved your life.” He turns to the admittedly eerie white eyes, the small black pupils steady on Bly with obvious curiosity. “Was that another Sithspawn?”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to speak. No sound comes out. He nods slowly, vertebrae cracking only minimally.

“I thought the backwards decaying was done, mostly,” Wolffe asks, and white eyes roll in amused frustration.

“Mostly,” Cody says.

“Can we go back to the point I cannot stress enough,” Bly shrills. “What the fuck?”

Obi-Wan gentles his features into a kind and understanding look that, Cody thinks, works a million times better now that he’s not actively looking like a medieval sci-fi Walking Dead extra.

Bly takes a step back. “You stay right there, buddy.” His eyes flicker to the weapon Obi-Wan had turned off immediately after chopping up the Sithspawn monster as graceful as a prima ballerina at a bar brawl. The whole thing will visit Cody’s dreams many a time, he can tell already.

“Unless you explain how your laser sword works then you may come closer. But just one step,” Bly hurries to add.

Wolffe groans and slumps against one of the work benches in Bly’s garage. “You’re such a nerd.”

“Genius scientist.”

“Which is exactly why we came here,” Cody says loudly before their bickering reaches unbearable levels.

Obi-Wan takes another, deliberate step forward and holds out the hilt. “Careful,” he croaks out. While on the outside he’s mostly looking not-dead, apparently all the inside stuff takes a bit longer to fully reform after however long Obi-Wan had been dead in his— world. Dimension. Alternative universe?

Bly takes the sword with an excited giggle and kicks Wolffe away from the counter. “Came here for what?” he asks while strapping on goggles. “I can’t cut this in half, can I?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head with a small smile. “Please… don’t.”

“Don’t make the zombie talk for another few days,” Wolffe says, ever the doctor, and hops on the opposite work table. “The healing after the resurrection takes longer than I had anticipated.”

Bly stills.

Cody watches warily as Bly slowly turns around and zeroes in on Cody.

“What did you do, Codes.”

Cody would feel affronted if it weren’t for his track record. It’s not like he means to stumble into the shit he finds himself stumbling into. He says as much.

Bly slowly blinks at him. “Admittedly, zombies with laser swords are really fucking cool. But what the fuck, Cody?”

No pressure tagging goes to: @adiduck @meebles @omaano @razzbberry @bluemaskedkarma @merlyn-bane

[scarletskiesinthepaths]

Levi, Emotional Expression, and Social Interaction

I've seen different posts on Levi lately across different platforms that claim he is a cruel or mean person, which are fundamental misunderstandings of his character. I sort of see the problem as people mistaking Levi's emotional expressions (or lack thereof) as indicative of malicious intent or rude behavior. As such, I wanted to discuss how Levi's history and trauma have shaped how he expresses himself and relates to others. Once one has an understanding of that, it becomes evident that Levi's expressions should not be used to judge his intentions or feelings.

I wrote another post on how Levi fully meets the criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) on my main blog, and that diagnosis is important for understanding Levi as a character, as he's someone who's been largely affected by his trauma. To further expand on that post, we're going to discuss both Levi's affect and his ways of socially interacting with others, using concepts such as social modeling and self-monitoring.

What is Emotional Affect?

Affect, in psychology, refers to a patient's expression of emotion. Expression of emotion encompasses facial expressions, gestures, body language, tone of voice, etc. Mood, on the other hand, refers to the internal state of a patient's emotions sustained over a period of time. Affect helps us interpret a person's mood; however, there are such situations where affect can be considered inappropriate—that is, the person's affect is not entirely congruent (i.e., consistent) with the person's present mood and/or situation. A classic example of inappropriate affect would be laughing at a funeral, as that is incongruent with the context of the situation. Another example—a patient who is smiling and laughing after being involuntarily committed is considered to have an inappropriately euphoric affect.

Affect can be described across multiple dimensions, but the two most typically used are the quality of affect and the range of affect. Quality of affect is typically categorized as either euthymic (normal), dysthymic (depression, anxiety, guilt), or euphoric (an abnormally elevated sense of well-being, such as in mania). The range of affect can be labeled as labile, broad, restricted, blunted, or flat. Broad is considered the normal range of affect.

For the purposes of conciseness, we're going to focus on blunted and flat affects, as those are the range of affects that are best suited to describing Levi. Flat affect is when there is no variation in the patient's emotional expressions, regardless of their mood and situation. Blunted affect is similar, but it is a bit less severe—it means minimal variation. Practically, what do these mean?

Levi's Affect

When Kenny first finds Levi as a child, Levi is in a severe state of neglect; he is dying of starvation, he is wearing rags, his hair is unkempt, and he is sitting in the same room as his mother's decaying corpse. A typical child in this developmental range would be in extreme distress: crying, expressing fear, pleading for help, etc. However, Levi shows no such displays of emotions; he does not cry, he does not move, and he barely speaks. In fact, there is absolutely zero emotional expression, and there is no indicator he is upset about his situation (even as it is clear he must be). This is flat affect. Even in the short montage we see after Kenny has taken Levi under his "care", Levi never once shows variation in his emotional expression—no anger, no laugher, nothing.

Once Levi is an adult during the present timeline in the series, Levi exceedingly rarely displays his emotions. He often speaks in monotone, minimally varying the tone or volume of his voice—never yelling as well, even when angry. His smiles are so rare that it's a notable moment when he does smile (such as when Historia punched him at end of the "Royal Government" arc), and he never cries even after significant personal losses (except his one tear at the end of the series). His affect as an adult ranges from flat to blunted. This is significant too because we do know that his mood does vary, as it's clear from his verbal and body language the toll that different events take on him, and he does also display a sense of humor across the series. Again, though, his emotional expression does little to reflect how he's feeling.

What Causes Flat Affect?

To give a quick list of the most common causes:

Schizophrenia and other psychotic-spectrum disorders

Brain damage, such as from organic brain pathology or a traumatic brain injury

Neurodevelopmental disorders, such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD)

Severe psychological trauma, typically resulting in post-traumatic stress disorder

Major Depressive Disorder (MDD)

I will say outright that there is no evidence Levi suffers from schizophrenia, and thus, that is unlikely to be the cause of his flat/blunted affect, especially given the onset of Levi's flat affect and the exceeding rarity of childhood-onset schizophrenia. Similar reasoning applies to brain damage, so both of those can be excluded from the differential.

I do believe Levi meets the criteria for MDD in adulthood; however, that would be more so a comorbidity of his existing PTSD. Levi looked to be around 4-6 years of age at the start of Kenny's flashbacks, and MDD in that age group is quite uncommon, even when accounting for childhood-onset and adolescent-onset depression.

This leaves us with both severe psychological trauma and ASD as the two most likely causes of Levi's flat affect as a child and through adulthood. ASD can be a valid interpretation of Levi's significantly reduced affect display during childhood, as well as his consistent social difficulties throughout all of canon. Based on criteria laid out by the latest edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR), Levi can be seen as having ASD (which I'll likely make a future post on). However, the presence of severe psychological trauma confounds this diagnosis. Despite this confounding diagnosis, it is still possible he has both PTSD and ASD.

Regardless, the most likely explanation for Levi's range of affect remains severe psychological trauma. In a child that young, something had to have gone extremely wrong in his early upbringing for his significantly reduced affect display. An entire separate post can be written on this topic, but Levi demonstrates clear signs of an insecure attachment style by the time he's discovered by Kenny; this indicates that Kuchel, despite having loved Levi, was simply unable to properly care for him, and this resulted in deep and ingrained psychological trauma that affected Levi's ability to socially relate and interact with others for the rest of his life. I intend on going into more detail in a separate post, but Levi's attachment style is likely insecure-avoidant or insecure-disorganized.

Observational Learning and Social Modeling

Albert Bandura's social learning theory posits that children learn through a combination of traditional behaviorist processes (classical and operant conditioning), cognitive processes, in addition to observation and modeling. In reference to Levi, observational learning is the most salient aspect of this theory.

In simple terms, observational learning refers to the way children observe the people around them. Individuals observed are referred to as models. Models can include, but are not limited to, parents/caregivers, TV characters, school teachers, and friends within a peer group. Basically, children pay attention to these models and encode their behavior into their memory. At a later time, this behavior is then imitated. This is referred to as "social modeling".

Who were Levi's models? Kuchel, Kuchel's patrons at the brothel she worked at, Kenny, and others who lived in or frequented the Underground City.

Given Kuchel's circumstances and the danger of human trafficking in the Underground, it is likely she taught Levi to avoid interacting with anyone in order to ensure his safety. Kuchel's patrons, in all likelihood, abused her and Levi was most assuredly witness to this abuse or the effects of it in some way. Then, Kenny—Levi's most significant parental figure—was a prominent serial killer who displayed and actively taught Levi violence.

All of this points to Levi never having had the opportunity to learn proper social interaction. In fact, he was actively taught inappropriate and unhealthy ways to socially interact. Not only was Levi's emotional development stunted and severely impacted as shown through his lack of affect, but his ability to socially interact and relate to others was inhibited due to both his insecure attachment and the absence of appropriate social models. How does this manifest in Levi?

Self-Monitoring

Self-monitoring is the degree to which people monitor and adjust their self-presentations when interacting with others and across different social contexts. Whether someone is a high or low self monitor can be affected by their natural personality, their experiences growing up, and/or their neuropsychobiology.

High self monitors tend to be actively aware of the social image they are projecting, and they will be adept at responding to social cues. They will also vary the image they project dependent upon who they are interacting with and what the social circumstances are. They have greater concern over situational appropriateness, and they are often perceived as more friendly and pleasant by others.

In contrast, low self monitors tend to exhibit emotional expressiveness and social responses more congruent with their internal states regardless of social context. That is, they do not adjust their beliefs, attitudes, and dispositions to be more socially acceptable. As such, they are often perceived as rude, socially awkward, and/or unaware of others' social needs.

Levi is a low self monitor. Regardless of who he is interacting with or what the situation is, he consistently maintains the same attitudes and beliefs; he is always honest and says what he's feeling. He never adjusts his social tone, even when it would make him more appeasing to others. Throughout the series, he's often referred to as rude, socially awkward, a lunatic, etc. for his inability to self-monitor. This is a likely a result of the aforementioned psychological trauma, his lack of appropriate social models, his innate introverted nature, and his potential ASD.

Summary

My goal with this post was to explain how Levi's trauma and experiences growing up have formed the way he expresses himself and interacts with others. Levi never sets out to be seen as rude, unkind, or cruel. In fact, I'd say he is by far the kindest and most compassionate character in all of Attack on Titan. However, because of his social disposition, he is consistently misperceived by both characters in the series, as well as readers/viewers. Levi, through a combination of his innate nature and the environment in which he grew up, simply lacks the social skills and affinity for social interaction to properly explain himself and come across as more palatable to others.

Note: I am a doctor of psychology student, so much of this information has been informed by my schooling.

[jessmaybank]

heyyy! congrats on 1k that's hugeee!!!

i wanted to request playlist roulette with the song telephone by vacations!!! (any character you want but for me it's such a jj-coded song!!!)

Navigation & 1k celebration

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x fem! Reader

word count: 1.4k

Summary: JJ gets jealous. Friends to lovers.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, implications of sex.

AN: Thank you🫶🏼 this is not my best work and it’s unedited but I hope you like it! This song is 100% Maybank-coded.

Fall into the night

As I gaze into you

Her figure demanded JJ’s attention as soon as she entered the room, her legs exposed as she waltzed through the house in a pink dress - one which happened to be JJ’s favourite. The dress was held up by two flimsy straps tied into bows on her shoulder; one flick of his fingers and it would fall off. He was determined to make that happen tonight.

She fiddled with her fingers as she met his gaze from across the room. His blue orbs were sparkling with something she couldn’t quite place. He watched as her line of vision shifted to empty seat beside him, and he had to bite his tongue to suppress a smile. The blonde patted the empty space next to him with zero hesitation.

The rest of the party seemed insufficient to him as she began walking towards him, her dainty figure looking delectable as he shamelessly let his eyes roam around her body.

She pretended not to notice his stare as she took a seat beside JJ on the couch. His aftershave invaded her senses as he turned to face her, an intense look laying behind his eyes that made her feel hazy.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” She says, fiddling with her rings in order to avoid his gaze. Usually, she was a confident girl. But JJ just knew how to turn her into a nervous wreck, and she hated it.

JJ took notice of her flustered state, ashamed of the fact he fucking loved to see her squirm. “Is that why you won’t look at me?” He says, a teasing tone in his voice as he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers dangerously close to her shoulder.

Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to face him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness as she took note of the crooked smile which graced his features. He was so beautiful.

“Happy now?” She questions, fluttering her eyelashes innocently at him. That depends if your coming home with me tonight, he thought, but he bit his tongue. They were just supposed to be friends after all.

He didn’t even need to respond, his eyes said everything she needed to know. His fingers inched closer to her shoulder, and she almost gasped when he started fiddling with the straps of her dress, mouth agape as she drowns in his blue orbs. He was suddenly thankful they were in a room full of people, otherwise he wouldn’t of been able to stop himself from tearing the flimsy material straight off her.

She bit her lip as his fingers traced circles on her shoulder, her smooth skin burning his insides. It was a simple gesture of affection, but it drove her absolutely insane, and it dawned on her then that this man could absolutely ruin her if he wanted to.

And my god, did he want to.

I wish I could live without you

But you're a part of me

JJ’s jaw clenched as he sat on the couch of the chateau, taking a swig of his beer to try and calm himself down. She turned up about 20 minutes ago, but unlike all the other times, she wasn’t alone. It felt like all of the air was sucked out of his body the moment they walked through the door. He just couldn’t fathom the fact that she was here with someone else.

He didn’t recognise the guy, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It wasn’t him.

His blood ran cold as he watched them, her sweet smile leaving a sickly taste in his mouth as she giggled at something the guy said. He once thought those smiles were reserved for him, and him only.

He felt disposable in that moment, like a piece of obsolete machinery that no longer needed to be used. These emotions weren’t unfamiliar to JJ, thanks to his dysfunctional mess of a family. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

It was like a part of him was ripped out, a wound that only she could heal. But he couldn’t even blame her, they were only friends after all.

John B sat next to JJ on the couch, his smile fading as he observes the emotional wreck that was his best friend. John B followed the shaggy blondes line of vision, and his jaw almost dropped as he saw what he was so focused on. He had never seen JJ so distracted by a girl before.

“Never took you for a simp” John B says to him, snapping JJ out of his trance. It was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, but John B knew he evidently failed when JJ scoffed.

“Funny” he responds dryly, finding solace in fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. John B knew then that this wasn’t some silly crush, it was more than that.

The brunette had a quizzical look on his face as he came up with a plan, and he wasted no time in putting it into action.

“Y/N!” John B shouts, gesturing for her to come over, and JJ’s stomach dropped when she turned to them, their eyes meeting briefly.

“John B what the fu-“

“Just trust me” is all he says. And although he trusted John B with his life, he had zero faith in him when it came to this.

JJ stared at nothing as she walked over to them, avoiding her gaze as she stopped in front of them. Her perfume invaded his senses, and it took everything in him to stay still, to not drag her into his bedroom and show her that’s where she belongs. With him.

“Hey guys” she says, a bright smile on her glossy lips. John B smiled, but her eyebrows furrowed as she trailed her eyes to JJ. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

“Who’s that?” John B says, gesturing across the room to the guy she was with. He was already talking to another girl, and she couldn’t help but sigh.

“Family friend. My mum forced me to bring him here tonight, but he seems more interested in finding someone to swap saliva with then engage in conversation” she says, and they all watch as he starts making out with some girl.

“So you’re not…” John B trails off, leaving her to fill in the blanks. Her eyes widened at the implication.

“Ew. No way, he’s way too kook for me” she says, her face contorting with disgust as she considers the possibility.

“Really?” John B says rhetorically, his features bright as the corners of his lips turn upward into a shit-eating grin, turning his head to face JJ.

John B winced slightly as JJ kicked him in the shin. The blonde had never felt so stupid than he did in that moment.

“Okay, someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” She says, eyes tinged with confusion as she studies her friends faces.

“Can’t. Need a refill” John B starts, getting up from his seat on the worn out couch.

“I’m sure JJ will fill you in” he says, patting his best friend on the back before retreating to the kitchen.

He felt defeated as she took John B’s seat, eyes glued to his fingers as if he wanted to make sure they were still there.

“How the tables have turned” she says, a nonchalant expression gracing her features.

“What?” He mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Now your the one who won’t look at me”

That grabbed his attention then. His features immediately softened as he met her gaze, and suddenly he could breathe again. It was if that one look had melted away all his pain. All of his anger. All of his frustration.

“How could I not look at you?” He says, a certain intensity laying behind his blue eyes that sent a shiver straight down her spine. She had to suppress a gasp as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and her eyes fluttered shut for a second at the contact. It warmed his heart seeing her so flustered, so pure. “Your so fucking beautiful”

She could have died right then, and she would have been the happiest girl in the world. She came to the realisation then that she didn’t want to be touched by anyone else ever again. Only him.

It had always been him.

Wherever I go

You'll always be next to me

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[daiseukiis]

╰ ⋆ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ! ❞ ଓ.° ╮

FEAT. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ mikage reo

CONTENTS. fem!reader x mikage reo, profanity, mutual pinning, best friends to lovers, frustrating slow burn boo

SUMMARY. you and mikage reo go way back, since second year of jr high. yet who knew you'd fall for your one and only best friend.

W/C. 15.2k

A/N. good fuckin' tangina this is done. i didn't even expect it to take this damn long. here's to the ( possibily ) longest mikage reo oneshot in ur lives bc damn imma sleep now. im too tired to proofread u gais r on ur own omg. @17020 @adorlings @lov3nagi uhh who else ugh whatever goodnight at 6:30am

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “you’re pretty good.” the bustling sound of ‘high score!’ rings through your ears along with the sounds of loud gaming machines with the occasional ‘k.o!’ from a fighting game. your hues look directly at the ball which swishes through the net and the record of the machine changing from the bright led light of 48 to 62. the ball spins in your hand momentarily as you throw it once more despite the timer already ticking to zero— just for fun. “thanks, i’m actually on the basketball team.”

“no wonder, you beat the record.” periwinkle strands matching with his eyes look at the score you hit before directing his eyes to where yours was. the boy smiles, one which you easily reciprocate as you point at the blinking number 60 on his side of the basketball game. “you did pretty good yourself, you also beat the record on your machine.”

“what can i say?” the young boy shrugs his shoulders, making you chuckle at his easy going attitude— he surely did interest you lots. you pick up your school bag and blazer you had thrown to the ground upon arriving at your game, quickly putting on your belongings as you notice him also grab hold of his school bag, one which you recognize to also be in jr high.

“you’re cool, i’m yn.” you outstretch your hand to him with a smile. he takes your hand, showing you a smile of his own that made you want to melt on the spot. the sound of his voice brings you quickly back to reality, “i’m mikage reo.”

the more you soak in the features of this boy the more something in you just wanted to tell you to stay, even the warmth of reo’s hand was like calming a sea of uneasiness. there was something in his violet diamonds that allured you like a moth to a fire. but you knew you had no luxury to find the truth so easily.

“hate to be rude, but you’re kinda screaming rich boy.” you wanted to distract yourself from this bubbling interest, quickly pulling your hand away that had seemed to hold on for a bit too long on to his. your smile wavers slightly though not noticeable to the human eye. with a lighthearted joke, you continue your conversation with him. “and your name sounds like the—” 

“heir to the mikage corporation? yeah, that’s me.” your jaw almost drops at his response, staring at his handsome stature. you blink your lashes a couple of times, letting the new information click in until it finally processes properly. your gasp surprises reo, raising a brow at your sudden change of attitude once he revealed the truth about his background. “no way, you’re a rich boy and pretty boy?”

“i guess so? thanks, you’re pretty too.” reo didn’t know how to reply back to your words, in fact he found you odd. usually at this point, maybe people would suck up to him for connections, yet you didn’t. “you’re flattering, really.” you were… refreshing to him. the boy grins, changing his confusion that that of a more comfortable look. “let’s keep in touch, yeah?”

the way your eyes lit up at his question made him internally chuckle, he had to admit it, you’re cute. “i’d love to!” reo goes and reaches for his pocket, taking out his phone to gesture to you to exchange contacts. “do you have line?” 

you look slightly bewildered at his actions, staring at the line home screen to add contacts. “uhm, email or number works, is that okay?” you nervously look through your bag, lifting up your rather outdated flip phone at him. “i know, i really need a new phone but it’s a hand me down. hope you don’t mind.”

“i can get you a new one.” reo says so instantaneously that it catches you off guard. you blink your pretty lashes at the look of his raised brow, waiting for the answer. shock is instantly running through you as your face scrunches up, “what?”

“i’m serious, you’re my friend now and you seem like you’re struggling with that.” to say you were speechless was an understatement, he couldn’t be serious, right? though the look on his face is unwavering you start to think— he’s serious. “hold on! i appreciate the offer but that’s too much, seriously.” 

“here,” you quickly grab hold of his phone, quickly typing in your contact information to his number. you lift the device, creating a peace sign with your free hand as you click the button to create a contact photo for yourself. as you finish it up, you hand the phone back to reo before spinning on your heels out of the arcade. “text me later, alright? let’s meet up again, mikage! i gotta head to work!”

reo watches as your figure disappears from his view. he can’t help but smile to himself at your rather honest and odd antics, he was going to lie to himself that he tried to test you earlier if you were just going to use him for his money; and you didn’t disappoint. this encounter would forever be burned into his mind, for better or for worse.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “she’s pretty, think i could get her number?” a male classmate say out to his group mates, the female of the group letting out a small chuckle at him. “pfft, i thought you’d want a girl with more class?” the boy sends her a smirk, shrugging his shoulders. “hey, maybe she’ll let me be her sugar daddy? i got the money for it.”

‘what assholes.’ it’s not like reo didn’t want to be there, it was more or so he had no choice but to be with the other three students from his class. what did he expect though? he knew that they only chose him for his relations and connections, and for the fact that it wasn’t going to be the last instance like this to happen.

“oh, here she comes!” one of the other guys smacks their friend by the forearm, slightly pointing a finger towards the waiter discreetly. everyone but reo was whisper yelling their cheers to the male who had gotten his words ready in his mind to say. “get ready.”

“here are your orders—” this voice. immediately the boy turns his head to the side, eyes going into contact with your jewels. “yn?” there was a small pause in the air, your hand had reached out to place a drink down on the table. you felt a part of your locks drop from your shoulders due to the angle of you hovering over. “mikage?”

“you work here?” reo being surprised at your appearance was an understatement, and you seeing reo at the cafe you worked part-time at was also a pleasant discovery for you. after placing down the rest of the orders the table had gotten you prompted yourself up to a more relaxed position upright, a hand pushing back the lock of hair which fell earlier. “yeah, surprise to see you here!”

“that’s why you’re always so busy.” he jokes, jabbing at you since you did tell him that you had other plans and bailed out on him last week due to a sudden work shift. you can’t help but smile at him. “work and basketball, i’m a busy body myself.”

“clearly. just take rests too.” reo scoffs at you, knowing full well that your life revolved working shifts like a dog and playing ball after school with little to no social life left for you. rolling your eyes you can’t help but scoff back at his slightly nagging nature. “yeah, yeah, i heard you, mikage.” waving a hand out, you dismiss what he says. “anyways, i’ll be right back. i’ll bring that latte over for you.”

“yeah, go ahead.” without another word you nod your head at the other three, walking away from their table to go back to the front counter. just as you were out of ear shot all eyes direct themselves to reo with questions flying out their mouths. “yo! you know her?”

“we met at the arcade playing on the basketball machine.” one of the guys wraps an around reo’s shoulders as he grins at him. “cool, she plays sports too huh.” interested, the female soon asks her question as well; all surprised to see reo know the same girl their classmate was after. “what school does she go to?”

“i remember her telling me she went to teiko.” reo says, sighing a bit as he removes his classmate’s arm off his body. the other boy is astonished by the fact, “woah, that powerhouse? the kiseki no sedai are there!” “think she knows kise ryouta?” his girl classmate urgently asks, yet all these questions were tiring reo out. the two know of each other, and it was just around two weeks ago, it annoyed him a bit that rather than finishing what they came there for he was being interrogated. “dunno, ask her yourself.”

“alright, here’s your latte.” just when another question could be fired at reo, you had came and placed the last glass of the order down on the table. gods, did reo was good to see you come back so fast and save him from his classmates. “hey, i got a question for you.” you hum in response, looking at her after you put down the tissues and straws for them. “you’re from teiko, right? do you know kise ryouta?”

“ryouta? he’s a friend of mine, what about him?” though slightly odded out, this was once again a norm for you. “great! could you give me his number?” being on the basketball team of an infamous school really had its perks and cons, and seeing how you watched the girl search through her school bag to fish out her phone meant that it was going to be one of those days. 

“can’t do that.” she stops her actions and twists her brows towards your direction. “what, why?” you shrug your shoulders at her, blunt as possible since this scenario played so many times in your life already. “i don’t know you.” the small glare is evident on the girl’s features, “fujmoto tsukina, second year jr high. now you know me, will you give it to me now?”

“i don’t just give ryouta’s number to anyone.” you were quite surprised when something like this first happened, you’d thought some people would have common sense but clearly they were either shameless or pushy. the girl at the table pouts, crossing her arms and slumping back on to her seat. “ugh, fine.” was it another fangirl crushed? definitely.

reo had to admit that you were a charismatic character, seeing your ideals and beliefs showed what type of person you were in his eyes. you were so different than all the others around him that he can’t help but be attracted at the single thought of you. noticing the gaze reo had on you makes you beam a smile, one which felt so different to him compared to the ones you gave his classmates. “if there’s nothing else that you need, i’ll be going now.”

“wait, what about your number?”

‘he still asked for it.’ reo internally sighs to himself, glancing at you to see what your reaction would be to being asked that question. ‘what’s your answer, yn?’ your body pauses for a moment, though you stand up properly and send your customer service smile towards the boy. “you’re not my type.” and without another word you walk away from the table.

“damn! she shut you down bro!” reo is beyond baffled at what you said, starting to laugh at himself the moment you were out of ear shot. it was like the more you were around the more life felt so… lively. the rest of the group pout and huff at your words, yet reo was starting to take such an interest in you. “mikage, you sure you’re friends with her?”

“right! she’s so stingy!” the female of the group groans, remembering the interaction itself annoyed her. as soon as reo hears those words leave from her mouth he starts to frown, staring at her with furrowed brows and a dark look. “don’t talk about yn like that.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “you off your shift?” the look of shock on your face was almost priceless in reo’s books, a small chuckle erupting from his mouth as you stood there with wide eyes. after collecting yourself, you couldn’t help but also laugh with him— you knew you probably looked funny. “what’s this? you stalking me now?”

“i just thought i’d walk you home, it’s getting pretty dark.” he was right. the sun had already changed skies with the moon that barely illuminated both your bodies, yet with the help of the tokyo street lights were you able to see him there. reo did scare you, but regardless of that you found it comforting that it was him out of anyone else in the world. 

“aren’t you sweet.” the boy sends you a toothy grin, one you can’t help but send one back. gripping hold of your school bag you make your way towards his figure, leading him towards your home. “were those your friends?”

“you could say that.” reo flatly responds to you, thinking back to the group that he was with in the cafe. “we were working on a school project.” you nod your head remembering how they interacted towards each other. “i noticed. you didn’t seem too close with them.”

“yeah, sorry about that. i know they were being kinda rude to you.” he sighs as his right hand goes to rub the nape of his neck, to say that he was embarrassed and felt bad for you was an understatement. reo knew that to some extent you had to be professional due to the fact that a word from them could get you fired. you giggle at how he reacts, feeling his honesty which noticed that many privileged like him don’t usually have. “i appreciate your concern, mikage, but i’ve dealt with worse.”

“hey,” with that simple word the conversation resets to another, your giggling dialling down as you stop to listen to what he has to say. “what’s up?” “y’know, you can call me reo.” you blink in astonishment, seeing the look of seriousness on visual. it was as if he was in a board meeting for god’s sake! but then again, it has only been a few weeks since your last encounter with him and it was the second time you saw him in person was today. maybe he just rather be called by his first name?

“sure we aren’t going too fast?”

“what?”

“in this relationship.”

“huh—?!” the shocked look of wide eyes and a blush that hid under the darkness of the night sky is what causes you to burst out in laughter as you clutch your stomach. “i’m just kidding! don’t get your panties in a knot, pretty boy.” 

“you’re so unexpected.” it takes reo a second to recover from your joke, cheeks pouted out for a few moments. his head is a bit jumbled by what you said to him, who wouldn’t? he watches as you finish your laughing fit, wiping a tear of joy from your eyes after witnessing an award winning expression. “i get that a lot.”

“well, this is my apartment.” you point to the building right around the corner in a quiet neighbourhood, it had a modern look to it with a slightly old infrastructure. you lead him up the stairs to the second floor and stop at the very last door that had number fourteen on it. you go through your school bag to take out your keys. “did you want to come inside?”

“sure, if that’s alright with you.” since he was there and had time to spare he thought why not? it was you who invited him in the first place as well. “it’s no problem,” you nod your head and turn the doorknob for the place to open up. you take a step in and open the lights to the entrance of your cosy apartment, “a bit cramped so i hope you don’t mind. make yourself at home though.”

he answers with a hum, mumbling out ‘pardon for the intrusion’ before taking a step in your home. reo takes off his shoes and places it beside where you have left yours, noticing that there wasn’t many shoes on the rack. “do you live by yourself?”

“yeah, my parents are always abroad so it’s just me.” you casually throw your bag on your sofa as you make your way to your kitchen not even bothering to turn the lights on. it was already such an exhausting day for you. from basketball practice in the morning and a full shift having to deal with rather rude customers; yet you can’t really complain since you chose that sort of lifestyle.

“it’s probably not as big as your mansion, but here,” opening up your freezer you grab hold of a popsicle, taking out the wrapper and snapping it in half. “i know you just ate but share this with me.” reo looks at your hand as you make your way towards him, he gives a rather odded out expression as you direct the other half of the popsicle to him. you chuckle and urge him to take it, one which he hesitates to take. “thanks.”

you shot one of your signature smiles at him, though to reo your smile just made his heart skip a beat. with a smile that elegant he felt like he was dreaming. what was this feeling? the more he steps closer to you as you make your way towards such a small balcony, watching as you lean on the railings while the wind plays with your hair, hell, even the curtains started to dance along the night breeze. the way the moon shines down and blesses your skin was like looking at a goddess, and reo knew in this moment you were much more than just a simple girl he met at an arcade.

“from now on let’s stick together, reo.”

this was where mikage reo knew he found his treasure.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “oh look at these,” you stop by a stall on the way to the train station, a shop which sells charms of all sorts. your eyes land on a minimalistic phone charm which had a golden bell and a deep plum stone connected to it all with a white string. you point at the object catching your friend’s attention, “it’s so cute reo!”

the two of you were on the way to meet up with nagi at an arcade on a wonderful saturday afternoon, the sun shining on both your figures to warm up the skin on your bodies. nagi who was late as per usual was not yet there, and reo who had went to pick you up from your apartment earlier that day had suggested you might as well browse around and look at the things in tokyo.

“those are real amethyst.” the elderly shopkeeper states, smiling at the two of you to urge you closer to her booth. reo didn’t care much if it was real or not, but the way he watches your body looks at the charms with so much interest he couldn’t help himself. “we’ll take two.” “wha—” it wasn’t the first, and it will never be the last where reo would impulsively buy something just because you mentioned it, you love the thought, but it weighed down on your consciousness that in the long run he has spent a lot on you subconsciously.

“close your mouth yn, you’ll catch a fly.” reo lets out a chuckle, glancing at your flabbergasted expression with amusement. the boy fishes out his wallet to pay for two of the exact ones you had pointed out earlier. “why did you buy it?” you pout at the boy who soon hands you one of the charms, the two of you sitting down at the side to attach it to your phones.

“it looked nice.” though he won’t say it verbally that it was because you like it, he genuinely thought that the charms you saw were beautiful pieces. he pops his phone case off, wrapping the small section of string through the holes intended for the charm to go in “besides, these are best friend charms for the both of us.”

“that’s a first.” mirroring reo’s actions, you stop when he places his hand to you for him to wrap the charm himself for you. though reluctant, you gave your phone to him, a smartphone which he forced you to take two years ago saying that it’ll ‘help’ him contact you better. you knew he was bullshitting and was just giving you excuses to receive the phone.

“i can give it to nagi if you don’t want it.” he gives you a side eye, taking the charm and halting his movements from putting it on your phone case. you gasp at him, obviously offended to why he would suggest that. “don’t you dare!”

you lunge forward at reo, but due to that guy’s superior physique he stretches his arm faster than you could grab the charm from him. one hand landing on the other side of reo’s body and your other hand outstretched to the sky, yet even with your efforts you couldn’t reach the charm. lady luck really wasn’t on your side today, leaning a bit too fast caused your momentum to throw yourself on reo, and the boy securingly wraps his arm around your waist so you wouldn’t tumble and fall.

if you let out a breath now, reo would for sure feel the graze of your lips moving ever so slightly on his. both hues stare so deeply at the other, faces centimetres away with noses touching each other as light as a feather falling. it was cliché, and the both of you knew that. yet you can’t help this feeling of attraction to your best friend, it was like your heart was beating in sync with his. 

as reo lets go of your waist you sit up just as fast as you look away from him, hands laying on your lap with your cheeks turn into a pink blaze. you manage to croak out a measly, “i’m sorry” to him where he just nods at you. the both of you didn’t know how long you were in that position, but was enough to make your hearts go in a frenzy. the sa

words cannot describe such a feeling of catharsis that threatens to escape through the heart— was it really worth the risk?

“just don’t get upset yn.” he wasn’t too sure if you were alright with the silence, but reo knew for a fact it didn’t sit well with him at all. as a sigh came out from his mouth, he tried to ignore the fact that the tips of his ears were burning a bright red colour. with that one comment alone you reset back to your conversation. “you threatened to give our friendship charms to him!”

“thought you didn’t want it.” the boy flat out states something from earlier, but you roll your eyes at him, finally looking at the face that mocks you teasingly. “i do though!” you grab hold of your phone case once more, hand out for the charm as this time he finally obliges and has it to you. reo watches as your slender fingers work with the string to put it into your case. you finish by putting your case back on your phone

“because look, we’re matching.” you take reo’s phone from his lap and hold the two devices side by side to show him. lo’ and behold the two charms matching with both your phones. your grin doesn’t fail to make the boy’s feel some type of way. just the way you smile at him is enough to question why you weren’t in his arms.

“wherever i am, you’ll always have a piece of me with you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “when do you plan on telling yn we’re going to this blue lock?” nagi mumbled, eyes focusing on his phone as he tries to win a fighting game. him and reo recently finished school club activities, walking back to their respective places. nagi momentarily moves his eyes to glance at reo who shows the look of distraught on his face. “i was going to visit her today after work to let her know we were going.”

“she’s not gonna be happy.” reo’s white-haired friend stated, a groan leaving the said male’s lips just thinking about how upset you’d be when you hear the entirety of what the project is about. “i know.”

“well i’ll leave you to do that, i’m going home.” nagi had no interest in your guys’ quarrel, especially knowing since he’d felt the terror of ln yn before. so this was an off limits final boss that he had no magic armour to participate in. reo shoots a semi-small glare, knowing as much as nagi that the situation was less than optimal but is undeniably unavoidable. “thanks for the support.”

“no problem. i’m tired, so tell yn i said hi.” he gives reo a thumbs up as a sign of good luck against the final boss, waving his hand right after he had done the same. “yeah, i’ll see you nagi.” the second year heaves in a small breath, walking towards where you worked. the automatic doors open once they notice his presence, and there you were.

his plum hues land on your figure that had been helping with a customer over the counter, your signature customer service smile so bright as you hand the bag of goods to the person. reo wasn’t going to deny it, as many times he had seen you in uniform for work, your beauty never ceases to blow him away. be it at work or just a bare face, he knows you made him feel such a warmth in his stomach. 

“reo! just give me a second, i gotta have to clock out.” it took him a moment to realize you were already standing in front of his figure with the smile that causes his stomach to go through twists and turns. reo nods his head, smiling back at you. “take your time.” he watches as you wave your hand out, bidding you a short ‘bye!’ before you grab hold of your water bottle and head to the staff room to change.

reo walks out the store, waiting by the entrance of the building as he continues to check through his social media to see what the world was up to— not much interested him really. despite having his phone in his hand, the thought of your sad look that may grace such visuals made his heart crack just a bit. why did it hurt like this?

“alright, i’m all done! thanks for waiting for me.” your voice breaks him out of his train of thought, eyes scanning your once work uniform now in your school attire. reo nods his head to show you that he heard you, a smile to greet your figure as you take your position beside him.

the walk home seemed… awkward on your end. it was unusual for reo to seem tense around you, and he knew that you knew he was hiding what was on his mind. with an expression that shows reo’s slightly furrowed brows and droopy eyes, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was distracted.

“hey, i gotta tell you something.” you flinch at his sudden words, much to your surprise he was the first to break the silence. your mouth was already open, yet he beat you to it— perhaps knowing how awkward he was making this. “what’s up?”

“me and nagi got accepted to this blue lock to train for football.” a small gasp leaves your lips, a grin spreading from ear to ear. immediately your first response was to jump hug him ( one which you gained a habit from nagi ). a loud giggle runs through reo’s ears, his body slightly leaning forward due to your leap on him. “that’s great! you guys are aiming to be the best in the world!”

“here’s the thing,” reo starts as he sucks a breath in, his tone was far from happy which causes you to raise your brows at his rather negative reaction. “i don’t know how long i’ll be gone.” your movements stop as your arms remove itself from around reo’s neck, much to his dismay. you regain your posture, standing up straight to face him, the smile on your face slowly drops at the news. “you’re leaving?”

“just temporarily.” it hurt reo to see this look on your face, it burns his heart knowing the smile falters from such a face like yours. you couldn’t lie to him even if you told you weren’t happy with his decision, but who were you to stop him from his dreams? it’s a hard pill to swallow, but you never wanted to get in the way of him and his future so you can’t help but put on a smile, “don’t make me wait too long.”

“and then what? are you gonna leave me?” he didn’t really want to hear the answer, even if he was praying to the gods that keep you from answering it. reality was always inevitable in many ways than one, and that included you.

“of course not.” to reo, your smile was as angelic as the day he met you. the wind plays with the locks of your hair, causing you to lift your hand up and put the strands behind your ear. reo can’t deny it, just your existence alone made his heart beat out of his chest— winning the world cup was almost a side quest to him in that moment. 

“i’ll just miss you too much.”

and that’s how mikage reo knew he had fallen in love with you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “hey, yn’s working right now right?” reo notices that nagi had been texting you, or so they were notifications from three hours ago. the white haired boy nods his head at him, showing the chat which just consisted of you and nagi talking about how work was ever so busy on your end. “hmm, yeah, said she got a full shift.”

“you know when it ends?” reo quickly scans the text messages that nagi was willing to show him, but the boy shrugs his shoulders after trying to recall what you had texted earlier that morning. “beats me… you text her.”

“woah, hold up.” multiple blue lock players freeze on the spot when they hear their conversation, stopping whatever they were doing and stare at the two boys who only hum in confusion. “‘she’?” another presses on, moving towards nagi and reo while a few others follow suit. the lot of them were in shibuya having a break from training, and were hanging out until the topic of you disrupted the flow of things. 

“who’s yn?” the first to ask is isagi, just as interested as everyone to hear your name being casually dropped in a conversation with nagi. to him it was the first to see reo be interested in something other than the said boy, so he couldn’t help himself but be curious. chigiri gapes at reo a bit, “is she your girlfriend or something?”

“she’s my best friend!” reo yells out rather too defensively which makes many of them question his feelings for you. the boys snicker, not even bothering to respond back as the smirks and evil grins some of them had only made the lilac haired footballer to lift a fist up along with his middle finger.

“i thought i was your best friend?” nagi was nowhere near offended, in fact he didn’t mind at all since he knew how reo looked at you. before the rich boy could answer back nagi heaves a sigh and leans his head on the table, “well, it don’t matter anyways… you want yn to be your girlfriend.”

“don’t just say shit like that, nagi!” reo screams out, making nagi only close his eyes, lips pursing into an ‘x’ like shape as he takes both of his index fingers and plugs it into his ears; mumbling things along the line that he was being too loud.

“oh, now we gotta meet ‘er!” the black haired boy; karasu gets up from his seat which causes a chain reaction where the other boys who are equally invested in figuring out this mystery girl that reo and nagi are talking about. reo panics a bit as he also stands up when they do, trying to stop their advances. “she’s working right now!”

“who cares.” otoya shoots at him, holding reo’s right forearm and urges him to get a move along. seeing how reo almost fell, karasu quickly grabs his left forearm to drag him forward as well. the boy gave a smug grin, joining in on the teasing, “i’m sure you’re dying to see her!”

“alright! let go of me!” reo is now struggling to even keep you to himself, and he knew for a fact that these guys were not gonna let you go after carelessly mentioning you. the boy stretches his arms out in an attempt to get out of the two’s grasp, which they did. 

reo can hear multiple other players asking nagi to lead the way, as well as asking who you were. when he looks up from groaning and struggling free, he could already see half of them walking away from his figure. “yay! to yn-chan!” reo could not catch a break, easily when bachira threw himself on the said boy’s back. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “oh yn, you’re always helpful as usual.” you chuckle at the elderly woman in front of you, giving her the change she has from the purchase. with two hands you hand the receipt to her, giving a courteous bow. “thanks so much, tanaka-san. i’ll follow up next week to see how that cream is doing for you!”

“such a sweet child, tell that mikage friend of yours hello for me!” tanaka swipes her hand down in a slow motion, flustered to hear such kind words coming from you. she gives you a sweet smile before giving a wave and heading out towards the exit of the store. “not too sure when i’ll be seeing him, but i’ll let him know.”

“she’s yn?”

“holy shit.”

“she’s so glamorous!” 

“ya girlfriend’s a hottie.”

“like i said, yn isn’t my girlfriend.” his words are stern and sharp, almost malice dripping out from his tone of voice. reo is irritated at this point, throughout the entire walk to get to your workplace they had been non-stop asking questions about you that he would have rather they have not asked, and answered questions he had not wanted to answer. at this point he’s convinced that they’re doing this to annoy him.

“she’s not your girlfriend, so can i make her mine?” 

“back off!” otoya face drops from a bright up to an irritated look. his phone was already out to ask for your number. though that was what caught the group’s attention, but how both reo and nagi had shut them down at the same time. “woah, even nagi’s agreeing!”

“reo?” your eyes connect with the said male’s lavender gems, ones which held the warmth and comfort you always looked for. your eyes widen at the sight of him standing just a few feet away from you, were you dreaming? your body freezes what it was doing watching as he starts to make his way to where you were, until he stands right in front of being.

“i’m back, yn.” 

the way your eyes brighten, hiding the glistening sea that almost escapes your hues shows the feelings of sadness she had been suppressing. in a quick motion you wrap your arms around him into an embrace, the feeling of joy overwhelming you that you’d even discard the professionalism you were supposed to have. but in this moment you wanted no other but to feel his warmth back in your arms.

the action catches reo off guard, not knowing that you’d even react this way after not seeing him for a couple weeks. the tips of his ears flush that pink, arms hesitantly wrapping around you in a slightly awkward manner. this wasn’t the first that you two have hugged, but this type it felt different.

“i can’t believe you’re here! i saw the game!” pulling away a bit too soon than reo had wanted, you take a step back to quickly fix your attire. to you, this was one of the moments you had dreamed of for the last few weeks. yet to reo, he was quickly shutting down any sort of snickering remarks he was quietly hearing from his blue lock mates. though the mention of the game catches his attention, “you were at the stadium?”

“i worked a shift… but i was watching it on my phone.” you playfully stick a tongue out with your peace sign, sending an animated wink his way which seemed to have caused reo to sigh in defeat at your antics, once again.

“hi yn.” a familiar white haired boy steps into your field of view. the sight of him made your body excited just remembering the moves the two of them did during the game— in fact you never saw nagi be that motivated for anything in his life! “nagi! you guys looked so cool!” the boy nods his head, a small smile creeping up his lips. “thanks.”

“are these your teammates?” you point to a rather large group of boys that was currently occupying a good chunk of your section. almost all of them were identifiable thanks to the close ups and names that popped during the game, yet seeing them in person did kinda make you feel nervous. reo notices the shift in your body language, he steps a foot closer to your body and puts a hand of your shoulder to ease you up. “yeah, from blue lock. we were hanging out and passing by when we heard you were on shift.”

“it’s nice to meet you, yn.” the first to greet you was a certain male that you were very familiar with— in fact, he was quite popular outside of blue lock already. mouth gapes open to see the brunette male and his signature glasses moving forward to you with a bow. “oh my gosh, you’re really yukimiya kenyu!”

“you’re a fan?” maybe yukimiya should’ve expected this; he knew he was popular with the ladies due to his modelling career outside of football, and the shocked and rather excited expression you gave when he called out to you really showed. he just wished reo would stop giving him that stink eye that he saw from the side of his peripheral vision, though it seems like you didn’t even notice your best friend was doing that. “kinda, my friends have a huge crush on you so like i just hear about you lots.”

“right. rie and rosie.” reo watches as the two of you interact with each other, the annoyance getting to him as he clicks his tongue at how excited you are to meet his teammates. a frown slightly drooping by his lips and hands by the sides of his hips as he watches you fish out your phone, “think we can get a selfie together? they’ll totally get jealous!”

“yeah, that’s no problem.” he knew he had no right to have this feeling, especially since the two of you weren’t really in a relationship but there was just something in him that made his eye twitch seeing you get so close to yukimiya, holding up your signature peace to take a selfie with the model. 

a quick ‘thank you’ and bow is given to yukimiya by you as he bows back before you direct your attention once more to the group of boys. “thanks for dropping by, let’s catch up later? i still got about half an hour left till i’m off.”

“ya wanna come hang out with us after?” karasu questions as he takes a step forward before nudging his head as a gesture to include everyone. just as you were about to decline their offer due to the fact that you were still on the clock, you felt bad for having them just wait around the store. “i’ll wait for you.” closing your mouth you look at reo who nods his head, which is very reassuring to you. a breath of defeat goes out, smiling at him you look back to the group of boys. “if that’s the case, i’d love to.”

“yn!” subconsciously you straighten your back and turn on your heels to the owner of the voice, “yes!” your manager makes his way towards where you are, looking at you, the boys behind and then back at your figure with a brow raised up. “what’s with that crowd? friends of yours?”

“yea, they’re blue lock—” your voice easily drowns over your manager’s deep one, shutting your lips tight as he waves his hand to ignore whatever you had to say to him. he sighs, not wanting to waste any time than he has to. “listen, suzuki called in sick today. i’m gonna need you to work till eight tonight.”

“but that’s overtime for me… i have plans today sir.” you wanted to give it a shot, and you knew that it was hard to convince your manager for anything but this was important to you. “we’re short staffed, you got no choice yn.” 

“sure then.” you sigh in disappointment as you nod your head. “and stop talking to your friends if they’re not gonna buy anything, you got lots to do and hourly quotas to reach.” with that your manager waves you off and leaves you be for now.

“ugh, fat pig.” you groan as your smile drops from your face, sticking your tongue out at your manager before turning around to the group of boys who were as equally as bummed out as you. arms cross over the other in an ‘x’ and you shake your head, “sorry guys, yn is cancelled for tonight.”

“hey, he’s obviously overworkin’ ya.” karasu states out while many of them look amongst themselves. chigiri suddenly starts getting worried for you and your health, stepping forward with his thoughts. “isn’t that like… illegal?” 

“what can i do? besides, i guess i am behind on rent so i need the money.” you shrug it off like another typical saturday. this wasn’t the first time you had to do this against your will, and this job was your only source of income so you had no choice but to actually stay.

“you don’t go to the same school as reo and nagi?” pulling a deadpan expression on whatever isagi says, your thumb pointing at the said two. with a more or so condescending tone you say, “you’re asking too much. my brokeass could never attend some high-class super expensive preppy school like these guys.” 

“yn, why don’t you just quit.” reo suggests but you scrunch your nose and purse your lips together, “easier said than done.”

“how much do you get paid an hour?” you hum, thinking in your head about it. “like ¥1000 per hour… on top of commission maybe i hit like ¥210,000 a month?” you try to do the quick calculations in your head, thinking how your usual monthly income looks like. reo pulls a look, softly facepalming once he hears the numbers come out of your lips, with any other purchases  you had to do on top of rent. “and rent is ¥150,000. if you told me you were behind on rent you should've told me.”

“you haven't texted me in like weeks!” pointing an accusing finger at reo, you start to remember how you were indirectly being ignored ever since he entered this blue lock ( all which comes back to you only after the excitement of seeing him again disappears ). “in fact, you didn’t tell me you were gonna be gone for that long!”

“i got preoccupied, alright? calm down yn.” reo brings his hands up in defence as you get closer to him, leaning backwards a bit due to your close proximity. many of the blue lock players chuckle and snicker at the sight of you two having a quarrel. karasu snickers, “uh-oh, yer girlfriend’s mad at ya.”

“y-you told them i was your girlfriend?” you’re taken aback by karasu’s words, really blessing the gods that you applied that blush make up today for work or else they would’ve noticed how such a pink dances across your cheeks. reo on the other hand had that exactly happen to him, more or so embarrassed that they kept insisting that the two of you were a couple. “no, i didn’t!”

“if that’s the case, i’m otoya eita. can i get your number?” you weren’t quite sure how he quickly got in front of you, touching the tips of your fingers so gently with his phone out on his other hand. you were impressed— but you were also at a lost for words in a weirded out way. you stare at his hand that touches yours for a few seconds, not really knowing how to respond to him. “yn…?”

“cut it out.” reo is glaring daggers at otoya, but he isn’t the slightest bit afraid at the purplette boy’s words whatsoever. “what, she’s not your girlfriend. that means i can take her on a date.”

“you’re not yn’s type.”

“how would you know yn’s type?”

“yn’s type is someone with money and is a complete ikemen.” 

nagi blurts rather easily, causing your face to dance with pink. “don’t call me out like that!” the rest of the boys watch as you shake nagi by his shoulders in a rather aggressive way. they’re silent, but they knew exactly who fit that description perfectly. ‘ah… so she basically likes reo.’

“yn, just quit your job already.” reo pinches his nose bridge, trying to stop the possible migraine that might come flying into his head the more he stays here and listen to this bullshit. you scoff and cross your arms at him with an incredulous look, urging him to continue with his plan. “then what?”

“work for me.” the silence is a bit too loud for everyone when reo blurts out those words. a piece of your hair falls on to your face, “what?”

“work as a maid at my place?” reo’s response was more of a question rather than an answer, one you weren’t expecting like the rest of the group. with the look of bewilderment on your face, you open your mouth, nothing coming out only for you to close it shut once more not knowing how to respond to reo.

“oh~ ain’t that kinky?” karasu chuckles at reo’s suggestion for your new occupation, one which you have no comment on for. many others nod their head and agree. hell, even nagi has something to say about it too. “i didn’t know you had those kinds of fantasies, reo.”

“shut up! or be my assistant, just quit this job yn. i can treat you better than that scum.” reo was most likely losing braincells the more he hung out with these guys, ignoring how pink his cheeks flare up for a second. this is when you finally have something to say, chuckling at reo’s cute reaction to everyone’s comments. “as much as i’d love to do just that, i can’t rely on you all the time.”

‘i wish you did.’ 

“i’ll pay you twice what you make in a month.” he sighs and twists his brows, thinking of ways just to get you to leave. you ponder on that for a bit, it was a really enticing deal though your dignity to always have reo save your ass stops you from it. you give a smile, one that hides how exhausted and painful it’s been. “thanks for the offer though, reo.”

“are you sure? he’s giving you a pretty good offer.” yukimiya urges you to take the deal knowing full well that that type of salary is above the average amount a regular worker earns. shaking your head off the concerned looks you were getting from them, your smile ever gets wider. “yeah, i think i’ll try to manage.”

“if that’s what you want, yn. i’ll always be here for you.” if he can’t change your mind, he’ll just have to live with it not wanting to pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with. though he reminds you that you’re not alone anymore. ‘she’s always so damn stubborn. she knows i can easily fix her problems but she never asks for help.’

“i appreciate it reo.” your smile looks sad to him, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by the human analyzer karasu. he coughs, breaking the sentimental aura around the all of you to get a move along— he felt bad, but he knew pity was the last thing you’d want from anyone. “we should probably get going, sorry for bothering you at work.”

“no, it’s fine! i’m happy to meet you guys!” you reassure them that they weren’t bothering you with reo moving to talk to you. just as the rest of the group had bid their goodbyes to you, they start to walk away.

“let’s meet up sometime this week, alright?” reo suggests, trying to make up for today’s rather unfortunate turn of events. a small laugh comes out, with your hand pushing a lock of your hair behind the ear.“i’d love that.”

“yn, get to work.” your manager’s voice is heard loud and clear in your ears, but the footsteps of mikage reo walking away from you overshadows it. though the sting of your heart to see reo with a rather disappointed expression, waving his hand and walking away from you. it was as if he was leaving you behind…

“no…” when you think about it now, did you really want to waste your youth stuck working over forty hours a week in a management that doesn’t even care for your well-being, trying to make a day’s ends meet? “what did you just say?” your manager is baffled, urging you to repeat those words again so he can hear you loud and clear.

“i said no. i don’t want to work overtime, you can't keep me here!” spinning your heels to face him full of determination, you indeed were fed up with this place. “you perverted manager!”

“why you—! then you’re fired! get out before i call security!” he screams loud and clear for even customers to hear, a vein popping by the top of his forehead. even if he towers over you, shouts and let his anger out on you, there was no shred of fear that runs through your body. you tilt your head slightly to the side and smile, “fine with me.”

“yeah~! yn-chan in her bad bitch era!” bachira cheers you on, clapping and hollering while a few others of the group whistle and make remarks about your rather boss girl moves ( all which are very proud of you ). “you tell ‘em!”

despite the glare your now former manager was bestowing on you, you felt the weight of a million burdens fall off your shoulders. your chest that felt tight to the core loosens, maybe this job really was taking your youth away without you knowing? hands take off the name tag that used to be pinned at the corner of your left shirt and placing it down on the counter. you walk away from him and towards reo that stood with a rather proud look on his face.

“reo, does that offer still stand?”

“for you, always.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “where’s everyone else?” you exit from the building, looking for a certain group of football players that you would have thought would make a commotion. though reo was the only one you saw, not like you minded. in fact, you preferred it this way. your voice causes reo to look up from his phone in the same spot he would always wait for you to finish your shift. the messages he was getting from the group telling their whereabouts were. 

“told them to just hit the arcade and we’ll catch up with them.” he says as he scans your body while you move in front of him. the more reo looks at you the more he sees that nothing had changed at all, you were still in your uniform and the only difference about your appearance now is that you were holding your bag. the boy raises a brow, slightly offsetted at the turn of events. “you didn’t change?”

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere after work.” you deadpan while shaking your head. this motion was enough for reo to get the jest of it, knowing full well with what you meant as a small ‘oh’ comes out from him. reo points with his thumb behind him towards the whole of shibuya. “then let’s just buy some new clothes.”

“i’m broke,” you scoff, baffled at his sudden declaration. this wasn’t a first that he suggested things like this, in fact; you should’ve been used to it by now! a hand manages to be placed on the side of your hips, the other lazily pointing a finger at yourself. “how do you expect me to buy clothes?”

“the least i could do for not texting you back.” reo brings his hand out to yours, that smirk of his making you succumb to his antics once more. this man is one-tracked, you knew if he wants something he’ll definitely get it one way or another. though reluctant and even opposing his idea, you hand him your bag to carry as the both of you start to walk towards the shopping district of shibuya. “fine. but don’t spend too much on me, i feel bad.”

“what do you have to feel bad for?” he blinks his periwinkle hues thrice, glancing towards your figure from the corner of your eyes. the two of you continue to cross the infamous shibuya crosswalking, moving closer to you so neither of you could get separated from the crowd. you pout, looking at a different direction away from his gaze. “you’re my best friend, i feel like i’m using your money.”

‘right, best friend.’ those words stung, especially since it came from the same lips he always wanted to kiss so badly. he didn’t mind if he said it since he didn’t want to risk losing you, but when it’s you who says those words it would make his stomach churn. “let’s go to this store.” reo grabs hold of your wrist, dragging you to the store that had caught his attention.

‘that’s pretty.’ the moment reo had let go of you, you had already started booking it to the nearest outfit that caught your eye. he can’t help but smile at how you immediately started getting happy at all the amazing outfits you could pull off with just that one shirt you were looking at. “does anything catch your attention?”

“wait, this place is kinda pricey…” your eyes are ready to pop out of your sockets when you see the multiple zeros at the end of the number on the price tag, contemplating if you should even let reo buy anything from here for you.

“just let me spoil you, princess.”

“if you insist, my prince charming.”

when it came to free stuff, reo realized quickly it was easy to convince you on three things; food, clothes and anime. in fact, he had bought you an airfryer for your birthday once and the fact that you didn’t stop posting and raving about your airfryer on your instagram for a good three months made him think you just haven’t started to feel alive yet. 

“what do you think?” opening the curtains of the dressing room you stood there with all your glory on the platform with reo just waiting for you to come out on one of the sofas. you wore a rather oversized sweater with a linear pattern to it coloured in white, blue and maroon. a pair of blue baggy jeans to finish off your simple look for today’s outing.

“you look beautiful.” even if you didn’t ask, reo would have said it already. especially since you had let him agree to even pick out the clothing he couldn’t help but stare at awe. the look of infatuation in reo’s eyes makes you want to melt, “t-thanks.”

“let’s get outta here?” a hand goes out to you, and you gladly accept as you eagerly want to go see the others and get to know the people reo had spent his days with. your phone vibrates in your back pocket, so you reach out to it and see that it’s an email from your former manager. you click on the attachment, and there it shows your contract with the company nulled. “oh, i just got the termination letter from my manager.” 

“you really made a flashy exit, huh?” the both of you can’t help but laugh at what you did back there, even you still don’t believe you did that. “yeah, to be honest i was so fed up working with him and trying to keep up with the hours…”

“let’s just sue him for breaking youth labour laws and wrongful termination.” why didn’t you think of that? you have yet to turn seventeen and he had already made you go overtime, which was against the law in the first place ( thanks to reo even reminding you ). “you’re a genius!”

multiple bags soon fill up the counter, one employee folding clothes to put in the bag as another scans them. they were like woodswork, going at a swift and quick paste. though you and reo waiting at the counter confuses you since the two of you were the only customers in the store. you point at the ever growing line up of bags, “wait, whose are those?”

“they’re for you.” reo says so nonchalantly you could break down by just looking at the total of all of them. especially since reo gives you such an innocent smile that hides the intent of spoiling you like spare change. “we only agreed to have you buy my outfit today, not an entire closet.” you pout at him but he looks away, “just accept my gift.”

“won’t change your mind even if i said please?” you inch closer to the boy, giving him your best selling puppy dog eyes to see if he would budge if you were to act this cute. “nah.” the same ones he gave a side eye too before inserting his card in, a few button presses and the transaction goes through.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “woah, what took ya guys s‘long?” karasu is the first to notice the two of you walking towards the bowling lane that was assigned to the group. many others turn their heads to anticipate the both of you who wave back at them. a specific heterochromia captain, oliver is amused at the sight of you, “who’s the girl?”

“oh god— almost everyone from the game is here.” you recognize many faces, seeing how half of them were on the opposing team of the football game you had watched. the look of excitement to be able to meet such talented players is shown all over your face. “yeah, we’re bowling with them.”

“wanna join us, yn-chan?” bachira is waving his arm nice and big, urging you to come to their side of the bowling lane. your eyes light up at the invitation, “can i?!” “‘course ya can! be on our team.” karasu gestures you to come over to them and you move your feet to make your way to their group. “don’t mind if i do then!”

“she your girlfriend?” oliver walks over to reo who gives a dissatisfied look, out of everyone he didn’t expect the other team to also be interested in you. “she’s not.” he flat out says, but the look on oliver’s face shows that he’s amused by reo’s reaction. “doesn’t seem that way.”

“what’s in the bag?” yukimiya approaches reo with otoya in tow, everyone’s eyes now looking down at the paper bag that reo had been holding ever since arriving with him. “yn’s uniform.”

“did you buy her clothes?”  the model asks, intrigued with how everything has been playing out today for you and reo. somehow, reo senses that he’s being picked on and his brow starts to twitch slightly. “i mean she just quit.”

“she quit just for you.”

“stop fuckin’ annoying me you guys.”

“yn’s up!” chigiri hollers after you when the name switches to yours on the tv screen. you stand up all excitingly after you put on your bowling shoes, the boys cheering your name as you look for a bowling ball that wouldn’t weigh too much when you throw it.

“i’m gonna strike this!” with a rather smug grin you cockly announce, quickly making your way towards the bowling lane you let go of the bowling ball from your fingers. you as well as everyone watch as all pins fall down in one full swipe. you jump up with your arms out wide, laughing out loud with everyone on your side as the tv reads ‘strike!’ 

“hell yeah! all hail yn-chan!” bachira screams all excited, jumping on your back along with nagi. you can’t lie that all of them were feeding your ego a bit too much. you go around giving high fives to them all congratulating you for your flawless strike.

“beat that. you shits are losing to a girl.” barou taunts the other group with a smug grin, one which touches you because you heard a few things about him and complimenting you almost even made you an egoist. you make your way towards barou, wide smile with hands up for a high five. though he scowled at you, he grumbled things along the lines of ‘it’s only ‘cuz you got a strike you deserve this’ before giving you the double high five you wanted.

“awe, look at ‘em bein’ some proud boyfriend.” karasu who bares his teasing smirk crosses his arms and looks at reo who had been admiring you from afar, watching you get excited with the players that he had grown close with. he loves how your smile just gets brighter the more he watches you, your laughter tuning out everything else from the rest of the world— or so it did until karasu opened his damn mouth. “shut the fuck up.”

“how long have you known reo?” isagi takes a seat beside you, easily taking an interest between you and reo’s relationship. you hum in response, quickly thinking about the first time you and reo had met. “it’s been three years now? we met second year of jr high at an arcade.” the boy’s eyes smile at his new found discovery, quietly applauding such a long time friendship that the two of you had. “woah, it’s been a while then! it’s weird, nagi and reo never mentioned you whatsoever.”

“because reo said if we mentioned yn there’s a possibility that you guys would hit on her.” nagi walks over to the two of you, finishing his turn to bowl. the young boy scratches the nape of his neck as he takes the seat on the other side of you. you didn’t mind, to be honest you saw it coming since you were kept a secret from the blue lock members which may have been for better. though, it might’ve been because nagi and reo cared too much to share you with the others and that thought made you giggle. “ah, and he was right, huh.”

“omg, are those the football players from tv?” you turn your head with a few others to spot a crowd of girls who had their phones out and talking to themselves, giggling to see so many boys in one area playing a game of bowling ( while also completely ignoring you there ). two boys, respectively otoya and sendou went up to them asking for their socials. “they’re so handsome!”

“could we take a picture together?” reo looks to his side as he comes into contact with a female, her face flushed and shy at his presence alone. you could tell she had a crush on the football player, seeing how her phone was out and the lockscreen was reo from the game they had. the boy pauses for a moment, before nodding his head and moving beside her. “sure.”

“what’s with the face?” chigiri who stands a few feet in front of you tries to hold in his laugh at how you had a deadpan expression, eyes slightly furrowed and watching at reo and the other girl’s interaction. isagi notices your change in aura, looking at where your eyes had directed and examines your face, you looked like you were trying to burn holes behind that girl’s back. “you look jealous.”

“i am not.” you snap back at the two of them, but their chuckles only cause you to lowly growl ( in a cute way ) at them. you knew they were teasing you, but were you really that damn obvious that you didn’t like how reo was talking to a bunch of fans? was it because you thought some of them even looked prettier than you? 

“i thought you liked reo.” nagi inserts himself into the conversation, overhearing it after he had took his turn throwing the bowling ball. the boy makes his way to sit on the other side of you, and out of everyone you didn’t really want nagi to know because you making him a third wheel was something you’d rather avoid. you wave your arms in front of your body, trying to justify your actions and what you said, “i-i do! he’s my best friend—”

“yn stop lying to yourself.” your white haired friend’s words are sharp, as if stabbing you and stopping you from spouting anymore excuses. it was like getting hit with nagi’s ult and immediately you were shut down. you whine in response to his words, elbows being placed on your lap and your chin laying on the palm of your hands.  chigiri and isagi nervously laugh since they didn’t know how else to react because they knew you had accepted the truth.

“just give it a chance, maybe he’ll like you back!” isagi is the first to try and cheer you up, trying to get you back to the positivity you were in before nagi had hit you with his negativity. chigiri nodding his head and seconding that opinion, trying to make you look at the bright side of things. 

“we’re not close enough to be having this conversation, isagi.”

your eyes lazily give isagi a side eye with an exasperated sigh, not even bothering to turn your head fully to acknowledge him. maybe he’s right, or maybe not. at this point you were probably coming to a dead end. the said boy bashfully scratches the nape of his neck, chuckling and agreeing to your words, “i guess you’re right.”

“yn! let’s exchange contacts!” bachira comes running back to you after his turn is up, phone in hand along with a large grin. you sit up properly and smile back at him before standing up and walking over to the table. “sure, bachira meguru right?” you spot your phone with many others that lay on the table, glancing back at bachira whole sends finger guns your way and a playful wink. “bingo~!”

the others also ask to exchange contacts with you, and you happily accept it before everyone huddles around your figure and bringing out their phones. you go to your contact profile, showing them your number so they can insert it into their profile. “that charm…” chigiri notices the bell and amethyst that hangs from your phone, and with him bringing it up the other two start to take notice of it.

“oh, this?” seeing how everyone was now looking at the charm you had attached, you bring it up into a better view after the trio had finished putting your number in. all three of them stare intently at him, yet your smile comes forth everytime you see this charm. “reo bought it for me a few months back.”

“i knew i saw it before!” isagi points at the charm in your hand, not really knowing what he means by that. the three football players then recall back to the u-20 game where reo had left his phone out, and everyone thought it was chigiri’s due to the slightly cutesy girly charm by the phone. bachira giggles, feeling all giddy just thinking about the two of you. “you two like to match, huh? it’s so cute!”

“you could say that?” why did you even say that? because you have absolutely no idea what they’re referring to. blinking your lashes thrice they just giggle at you, as if they didn’t even want to inform you in the first place.

“what’s not cute is when they flirt in front of my face sometimes.” nagi’s voice interrupts their giggling, you gasp dramatically at him. when you look at nagi he looks away, avoiding eye contact with you knowing you’re just going to lecture him.  “we do not do that in front of you!”

“so you two do flirt with each other!” bachira gives you a teasing grin with the other two, hand in front of him as if he was one of those gossip girls. he wiggles is brows at you, causing the peachy hues burn the tips of your ears and slapping him ( affectionately ) on the arm as an attempt to stop their teasing. “that’s not what i meant!”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “so what do you think about the guys from blue lock?” after the lot of you finished a day filled with fun activities, reo had offered to take you home, as per usual. you can’t help but give him a big grin. “they’re nice,” you think back to all the new memories and friends you made today, it was probably the most fun you had in years. yet what really made it special was the way reo smiled when he was with them. “you looked like you genuinely were enjoying yourself.”

“hey, that was back in jr high.” he retorts back making you laugh at him. you remember all those times he had study sessions at the old cafe you worked in, it was really a sight to see such a social bird still being picky to who he talks to. “when you hung out with the classmates you had, it was like there was a wall between you and them!”

“they were snobby, yn.” his matter-of-fact tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, which gives you a chance to tease him once more. you use your elbow and gently nudge his side, “oho? and i’m not?”

“‘course not! you’re literally one of the most precious people in my life.” the way reo had said those words struck your heart, it wasn’t the usual sarcastic one he would throw at you when you were teasing him, it felt more honest. your lips slowly curl into a smile, looking at the ground you walk to avoid eye contact with him. “i can say the same to you too, reo.”

“are you free tomorrow night?” breaking a string of silence after the previous topic, he glances down to you where you pull a questionable look towards him, not really knowing how to answer. “i mean, i quit my job? so, yeah, i am.”

“my parents are making me go to this party, i’m wondering if you want to go with me?” you ponder on the offer for a bit, humming in the process as you think about it. “i don’t have the facilities to pull off anything remotely close to all this rich stuff. what’s in it for me?”

“there’s free food.” 

“you should’ve started with that.” giving a rather dramatic hand gesture, you lightly tap his chest making him laugh at your antics. you smile at him, loving how such a joyous sound could emit from his lips. “food really is your love language, huh?”

“of course! growing up in the working class, you might not know my dear struggles.” you bring two fists up to your eyes as you pretend to cry and wipe your tears away, fake sobs here and there as you ramble on about minimum wage jobs and rude customers. reo blinks his lashes, slightly done with how you indicated that such hardships cannot be found in the day to day life of a rich boy. he rolls those lavender hues, “haha, very funny yn.”

“wait, do i wear a dress?” you immediately look up, the party suddenly sinking into your brain. if it was a social gathering that his parents was making him go, then wouldn’t that mean that it was going to be a formal party that included wearing decently expensive clothing that your paycheque could never handle? the thought of that makes your brain spiral, and reo easily saw the look of distress on your face despite the smile. “there’s one in the bag for you.”

“oh, so you were gonna bring me to the party from the very beginning?” sighing in relief you had dodged a financial bullet to the heart, though that makes you look at all the bags reo had been carrying for you all day. you’re reminded of how you went back to one of the train station lockers to get all the bags. “i knew you’d be free.”

“anyways, thanks for being there for me today.” as the two of you near your apartment door, you open up your home for the two of you to come in. “i’m happy to see you again.” reo places multiple bags near the entrance of your doorway before heading back out again. he gives you a sweet toothy grin, “anything for you.”

chuckling at him, you take a step out of your apartment towards reo. taking to heart what a certain striker had told you earlier, you took your chances. placing your lips on reo’s cheek makes your heart beat faster than the force of a football being kicked into the goal, eyes shut close as you make this quick. reo stands there in a blushing mess as he watches you retract back into your apartment and closing the door in front of him.

“goodnight, reo.” 

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “i’m nervous, i’ve never been to these things before.” when reo had guided you up some rather luxurious stairs, you knew instantly this was not a lifestyle you were used to. the feeling of your stomach wanting to flip inside out earlier has a whole new meaning to you now; one that involves trying to walk through this black evening gown and heels reo left at your apartment last night.

“don’t worry, you look beautiful.” the boy takes your hand in an attempt to soothe your worries away, his thumb ever so gently rubbing the back of your hand as he takes the lead and carefully helps you up the stairs to the entire mansion. you puff out your cheeks without fully soaking in what he just said, eyes looking at the staircase to watch where you were placing your foot so you wouldn’t trip up. you weakly groan at him, “i know, but that wasn’t my concern—”

“just wanted to let you know.” quickly reo takes hold of your hand and pulls you close to him, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close to his chest after you had successfully missed the last step of the stair. a rather defeated look plays on reo’s face when he sees how clumsy you were in the dress, noting to himself to probably not have given you feels nor a dress like that if he knew you were just going to place your face on the ground within the first thirty minutes of you wearing it.

“jeez, pretty boy.” as you try to keep up the farce that you weren’t embarrassed by how close you were to him, you look away for a bit, hand placing on to his chest to create some distance between the two of you. taking a step back, you start to rethink your life choices up from the moment you put the damn dress on to now.

after last night it was unfortunately normal between the two of you, much to your dismay. you had thought that if you at least made the first move reo would start to realize you liked him more than just a best friend. in fact, the ride in the limo was awkward for you, and up until now it still is because he has yet to mention last night to you. gods, this is not good for your heart.

“the food table is over there if you want to calm down.” reo knows exactly what was on your mind, especially since he was the reason you had the look of discomfort. he nudges his head to the side where your eyes track to; which was a long table of hand food for you to eat. instantly the clouds that flew in the sky of your mind is wiped away at the view of such delectables— some you’ve never have even seen before. “can i take some of it home?”

“knock yourself out.” though it was only for now, reo had successfully distracted you from your mind that was hung up on last night. you happily make your way to the food table with reo following behind, grabbing your phone and taking all sorts of videos and pictures of such high class food before getting a plate to eat all of it.

“i’ll be right back, alright?” reo is behind your body as he puts his hand by your waist, him being a bit too close for your comfort. you can’t bring yourself to look back at him when you start to stiffen up, for god’s sake you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck already.  “my father’s business partner is calling me over, stay here.”

“i’ll see you soon.” trying to hide the voice crack that emerges from your voice box, you knew reo had heard it. his hands stops lingering by your waist before nodding his head and walking away, then only then did you dare to look at him disappear into the crowd. you knew that if he stayed any longer your heart might go into cardiac arrest.

“odd to see your face here, waitress.” taking you out of your trance is a slender woman around your age, your eyes dart to look at her stoic look that was unphased. you pounce on the thought for a bit, trying to see in your little pretty head if you could remember who she was, but no no avail you say, “do i know you?”

“i— why—” she fumbles on her own words, lost for what to say as she’s taken aback by your blunt response. she lets out a groan, fingers pinching her nose bridge before running her hand through her brown locks. “it’s fujimoto tsukina.”

“ah.” you had just now remembered, she was the girl reo was with in the cafe a few years ago with you. you’ve only encountered her a few times but since you never really did go to reo’s preppy school often you weren’t familiar with the people he knew other than nagi. “if you’re going to ask for ryouta’s number again, i’m still not going to give it you.”

“oh shut the fuck up!” your deadpan expression frustrates her, hands balling into fists as she’s insulted thats all you remember her for— it was three years ago. you raise a brow at her actions when she finally cools down, regaining her composure with a slight cough to calm herself. “but i’m not surprised you’re here. i take it you’re still smooching off mikage.”

“what…?” there was something with the way she worded those words that made your lips drop down into a frown, eye brows starting to scrunch up. “don’t ‘what’ me.” fujimoto heaves a prolonged sigh from her nose, rolling her chocolate hues to mock you. “there’s a reason why no one is entertaining you here. you might dress the part but a lot of us can tell you’re not part of this high class society.”

“and that’s understandable, but that’s not the answer that i’m looking for.” quickly snapping back at her, your questions start to raise each moment she’s in your presence. “i’m not smooching off reo or whatever you want to call it.”

“really? it doesn’t look that way to me.” fujimoto gestures at your figure, rolling her eyes at you. “a chanel evening dress with a matching handbag, van cleef necklace with christian dior earrings and bracelets. you’re branded head to toe, commoner.”

you knew she was right, but you never asked for any of this. you bite your bottom lip trying to hold yourself back from trying to make a scene. “i didn’t ask for any of this, i’m just borrowing it—”

“oh cut the shit, yn.” she scoffs obnoxiously, looking to the side to change her scenery before glancing back at you. fujimoto cross her arms and confidently says, “we all know mikage reo can do better than a gold digger like you.” it takes a bit to process that information— that description in general. fujimoto can see from how your face twists that you were taken aback. you blink, “are you jealous?”

“of course not! you just need to learn your place!” her face turns red and puts the blush she applied to shame, causing you to verify your suspicions. you scrunch your face up in discomfort at the second thing she said as your patience starts to run thin. “i’ve barely talked to you in my entire life.”

“that’s a good thing because you don’t belong here.” fujimoto’s voice lowers down in an attempt to scare you. she moves towards your figure whilst opening her limited edition black birkin handbag. her eyes feast on the sight of cash bundled up in her small bag, grabbing hold of the stashes of ¥10,000 banded together. the girl aggressively grabs your hand and places the money in your palm without a second thought.

“don’t bother mikage reo anymore and get the hell out of my sight.” fujimoto tsukina had just bribed you to stay away from reo. her words holds malice and resentment towards you as she looks at you ask if you were in hindrance in her eyes. you look at the cash in your hand, it was probably enough to not work for the next five years. yet the way she started to walk away from you left a bad taste in your mouth.

“fuck you.” clicking your tongue in annoyance, you can’t help but let your frustrations out at the source of your negativity. fujimoto turns around angrily at how you had addressed her after she had just selflessly helped you out; as if charity. your eyes show the rage and raw emotions you’ve been bundling up since the beginning of this conversation.

“i’m not leaving reo because i’m in love with him.”

it was your turn to unplug the cord to fujimoto’s power trip, walking up to her whistle taking the bands off the money she gave you. just as you were at a good distance from her, you effortlessly threw all the cash she handed to her right back at her face. the look of anger bubbling up on the rich girl’s face from in between the paper that fell from above only causes you to smile ever so menacingly.

“take your money, bitch.”

the last yen bill falls to the ground along with the last shred of fujimoto’s dignity, her sense and social awareness thrown out the window with only the thought of slapping your face. she tramples through the money and raises a hand to bring down on you. “why you—”

“don’t fuckin’ touch my girlfriend.” 

you never expected that hand to come down on you, but what shocked you was reo’s interference— nevermind that, but what he said is what set your mind in a spiral. reo had grabbed fujimoto’s wrist and stopping her from touching you, and by the look on his face you can see her was furious at what was happening. hell, a crowd had even started to form just now, and were already whispering to each other.

“g-girlfriend?!” fujimoto chokes on her own words, she’s more shocked about reo’s words than his appearance in your twos’ argument. his grip letting go of her wrist when he notices that she wasn’t going to go through with her movements. he furrows his brows and gives her a look as he steps in between the two of you, “you got a problem with that?”

“she’s a good digger mikage!” fujimoto’s voice is over the top, her finger accusingly pointing to the girl behind reo ; you.

“yn is one of the most honest and hard working people i know, she’s anything but a gold digger.” he scowls at her words, flicking his wrist to slap her accusing finger out of his view. “don’t you ever bother us again.”

reo grabs hold of your hand and pulls you to exit the seen of gossiping rich people who had nothing else to do but bad mouth others. you try to pick up your pace to match with his as you grab the dress with your free hand so you wouldn’t trip again as the both of you make it outside where there was more privacy for the both of you. you’re speechless, baffled and… honoured? your thoughts are all jumbled and everywhere, yet your brain is still in hung up on one thing;

“since when did i become your girlfriend?” this is when you finally snap out of your daze, looking at reo who was checking if you had gotten hurt with your argument with fujimoto. instead of being shocked to hear that you suddenly have a boyfriend now, you rather tease him for it. your eyes raising a brow of curiosity.

“ever since you said you were in love with me.” reo heaves a long sigh whilst looking out towards the garden of the mansion. he had to admit, he was being way too bold back there, but he can’t shake the thought of you getting hurt either. he had just said whatever was the quickest way to get fujimoto to back off, and calling you his girlfriend was something he didn’t think through after hearing what you said.

“you heard that?” your eyes widen slightly, were you too loud? you were sure the crowd only started to form when you called fujimoto a bitch. you felt the blush creeping up to your cheeks, tinting it with a coral colour just realizing maybe you had gone overboard with your confrontation.

“yeah,” he flatly says, swallowing the lump of saliva that was stuck in his throat. reo starts to rub the nape of his neck, moving his feet to face you, but his head hangs low due to the fact that he lost all confidence to look you in the eyes, “i’m sorry if i’ve been making things awkward for you today—”

“just shut up and kiss me.” you grab hold of the velvety tie that hangs around his neck as you pull him towards your body. you close your eyes in embarrassment as your lips move to crash into his soft ones. reo’s eyes are wide at the sudden change of pace, but he can’t deny that he’s been wanting to kiss you for all these years.

his gaze softens before he too closes his eyes to melt into the kiss. reo’s left hand wraps around your waist while the other holds you by the side of your neck to pull you close to him as he kisses your lips right back. in that moment the both of you felt like everything was finally complete, the missing piece finding its rightful place within you. your stomach erupts like little fireworks, you wouldn’t have your first with anyone other than mikage reo, but let’s keep that a secret, shall we?

in that second reo wished that you were the only air he needed in his life as the two of you gently pull away, your foreheads leaning on each other while the small shaky breathes escape from both your lips. even as the silence engulfs you whole, your sweet soft laughter comes out.

“i love you, reo.”

“i love you too.” 

snuggling your nose against his he chuckles at your actions, pulling back to leave a chaste kiss on your forehead. “let’s get out of here.” the love and sincerity in his eyes is what makes your heart skip a beat and want to melt in his gaze, his gentle touch cuffing your cheeks makes you lean towards him. 

reo wasn’t going to lie to himself any longer, nor was he going to hide how much he loves you anymore. you are the same, and maybe you’d just have to thank isagi’s encouraging words.

“wait, just one more thing.” reo raises a questioning brow at you, though not answering he was curious to know what else you had wanted to go before your departure. sending him a rather mischievous grin, you slyly take one of the wine glass from a butler. making your way to fujimoto who had been ranting about her encounter with you to other guests that attended the party. many of the guest she was with starts to quiet down as they notice you approaching behind fujimoto, before you finally go ahead and tap her shoulder.

“what the fuck do you want—” her words are cut short when you throw the glass of wine at her face. many people gasp dramatically loud which attracts the attention of many people. raising the middle finger at her, you can’t help give her your award winning smile. “i’ve always wanted to do that.”

“that’s my girl.” reo looks at your direction in a fond way. unexpected? yes, but he wouldn’t trade you for anyone in the world. your goofy grin drowns the ear piercing shrek fujimoto lets out, making you scoff before running towards reo. grasping on to his hand intertwining with yours you urge him to run with you, which he gladly accepts. “now we can go!”

“mcdonalds?”

“you treating me?”

“i’ll treat you like my princess forever.”

bachira : guys !!!! yn texted me!!! isagi : what did she say? bachira : she said ty her and reo are tgtr now isagi : told her to take her shot otoyo : she could’ve been with me aryu : thats so SLAY of her <3 chigiri : nah yn is way too whipped for reo nagi : good for them yukimiya : i hope reo can stop sending me death threats abt yn now karasu : r none of yall gonna question why tf they’re in suits n dresses in a mcds

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

© daiseukiis 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

[wifetomegatron]

here's to peace ( and those who get in the way of it ) ( first aid / reader )

summary : first aid has dinner with your family for the first time. first contact au pairing : first aid (idw) / gn! reader fandom : transformers idw continuity, more than meets the eye rating : m for mature due to mentions of blood and cursing, generally safe for work (sfw!) warnings : human ignorance. mentions of blood. tags : rewatched the awkward family dinner scene in fleabag and i didn't realise how much i loved it. deeply inspired by that scene, if you're it familiar with it, go have a good laugh and see it. i tried to be funny. idk if it works though.

There's a moment when you were sure that the sinking, churning feeling in your stomach would actually rise and push bile out of your mouth. That the sudden awkwardness in the air, pulled taut by the prolonged silence, will snap and cause your eyes to roll back — fainting would be a great distraction to get you and your boyfriend out of this agonizing position: a formal dinner with your family. 

You've been putting it off for weeks, declining their calls and sneakily texting your sibling back with the brightness of the screen down to zero while First Aid dozes off next to you. Eventually, he confronted you about it —  of course , he would find out. Attentive, doting, First Aid, who would scrub the apartment spotless every Sunday until no speck of dust survived, would find out. The grenade was already in your hands, the pin in your mouth like an apricot seed — and nearly sparked an argument about how you were ashamed of him. You had to calm him down and explain that it wasn't him you were ashamed of. It was the fact that your family told everyone that you were  dating a car . ( " Unfortunately, I can't turn into anything at the moment.") And to think that it's been nearly a decade since first contact, and they still couldn't find anything wrong with calling him an android. To make matters worse, they were referring to the Samsung  tablet —

" Ahem."

You were pulled out of your thoughts, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze, trying to level his vocalizer even if he was sitting as stiff as a rock next to your father. 

" Thank you, for having me here."

And like a kid who threw a rock at a sleeping hive of bees, the table buzzed to life, unapologetic to the fact that they've been staring in stunned, shameless, silence ever since you both arrived in the restaurant — which was, you glanced at your watch, fifteen minutes ago.

" Are you sick, love?" Your stepmother asked him. First Aid looked in your direction, confused until she gestured ( fingers a little too close ) to his mask.

" Oh no... this is just how I...look like."

" Well you're not at the hospital anymore," She chuckled through her teeth, smile stiff and voice so chirpy they grate your ears, " You can, you know, take it off."

" No, it's fine" You interrupted, " It's not a big deal." 

The rest of the people were looking at the menu, brow knitted and deep in thought as if they weren't just choosing whether to get the lamb shank or the vegetarian option for the starters. Cowards.

" It's a bit rude to have the shades and the mask when you're inside." She insisted.

" It's ruder to impose stupid, ignorant customs onto others."

You had to grit your teeth to get the words out. There was a brief pause, and you had to trace the seams on First Aid's arm to calm yourself, focusing on how the light bounced off his armor. And as if slinking back into her cave, retracting her claws, she swallowed the sour look on her face as it flickered back to a faux grin — nose scrunched and teeth bared.

 " Oh silly me. I do apologize."

First Aid let out a shy chuckle, " It's fine I understand —"

" I didn't mean to assume you had a mouth or eyes for that matter. Biology under all that...must be different."

Your stomach dropped. You could have sworn something lagged inside First Aid.   

" It's so lovely to have you here, darling! " Your sibling pans in your direction and smiles, trying to salvage the shattered pieces of the atmosphere, considering that your stepmom had  brutally  whacked a sledgehammer through it. The night is young. You were hopeful. You can count on them to say something reasonable —

" Considering your dating history, I just want to say that it's so refreshing to see you dating someone who's...not human! Diversity in relationships, after all, is the spice of life. Love wins."

Nevermind.

Your father cleared his throat — choked on his wine was more like it. Your sibling's partner talked over them before you could interfere: " Hear, hear! Humans are more compatible with your kind anyway. We're too emotional and fickle-minded. Dating metal must be a real upgrade from your previous relationships. They don't come with the messy, human baggage."

" That's a stereotype," You snapped, lowering your voice once a few heads turned to look, " So you're saying he's incapable of expressing his emotions? Because he's not human?" 

" Now you're just putting words into my mouth. I never said —"

" Do you need anything ?" The needy waitress interrupted, hovering around your table every ten minutes. You wiped your face with both hands. A cluster of arms flew to order drinks. The cutlery was noisy against the table. A headache formed in the back of your skull, and all you could do was anchor yourself to First Aid's palm as they massaged the small of your back. It was too much. The waitress called you twice and you lifted your head to order vodka, and then she gives you a pretty smile and accidentally asks First Aid wine or champagne.

Fuck. It was too late.

When he said no, your sibling-in-law and his disgusting, lazy excuse of a mouth were quick to joke, " What, you're not gonna offer the guy some oil?"

Immediately, at the same time, your father and First Aid placed a hand on your shoulder. Fingers and servos brushed against one another to calm you down, but it turned awkward, and your father pulled back a little too quickly, looking at the ceiling while First Aid crumbled like a wounded puppy. You want to reassure him that your old man's just socially constipated, but you feel the air rush past your lungs. The room felt hot. If there was an invisible camera, tucked away into the corner of the room, you would've stared at it for the crew to stop rolling. It's a shame that life isn't as simple. Or cheesy. And there wasn't a laughing track to wash away the discomfort suffocating everyone like waves bubbling into foam against the shore.

And that was how you ended up in the washroom scrubbing the bloodstain off your clothes. Water splashed all over the sink and onto the floors as you wiped the red pouring down your mouth, your chin, and even your neck. There was talking outside, and you held back tears, remembering the nervous phone call First Aid had with Ratchet in the evening before you had left the house. He told everyone. Your sweet, sweet boy had asked his CMO a week before about getting off early on Friday to meet your family. He told Velocity. He told Ambulon. Hell, Rodimus knew. And whether out of formality for being his previous captain or out of a severe case of 'never knowing when to mind his business', he had phoned your place and wished him luck. 

There was a knock.

" Can I come in? "

You slowly turn to your lover, nodding and finally bursting into tears. He hugged you tight, and you clenched your eyes shut, too ashamed to look at him. He was so gentle it was almost painful. Blood stained his shoulders. You know he's itching to wipe it off. Yet he stood still, steadying your shoulders with both hands. If he understood you less, you would've apologisedBut it was a wordless exchange between the two of you. Always. Only when you've stopped withering did First Aid speak.

" That went well."

You scoffed, " They're idiots."

" But you love them. And you should continue to have dinner with them. Meet them. Talk to them."

You frowned. You don't even know what's going on out there. But from the marks on First Aid's servo, he must have patched up the bleeding, bruised (hopefully not broken ) nose you had given your sibling-in-law. And knowing him, probably also helped ease your father back on his feet after you had accidentally knocked him down amid your little scuffle.

" I'll even go with."

You shook your head incredulously, " Why would you ever want to repeat this?"

" Because they apologized." His tone was soft, quiet almost as he stroked your hair, " And I'm sure, this won't happen again."

" Be realistic."

" At least it won't at least end like this. I know it."

Sometimes loving First Aid was like looking directly into the sun. You can't help but look away, eyes sore and heart bloated with hope. He pulled his mask down and kissed the discomfort away, and for a brief moment, you almost forgot that you still had people outside.

" If it makes you feel better, your stepmom apologized first."

" Really?" You pulled away from him to search his expression, mildly impressed, " And she didn't follow it up with anything?"

" Well, she did say life in the berth — erm, bed room, must be so interesting when you've got so many cables to choose from. She said it must've been a letdown for me to find out you've only got one port."

" Oh, fuck me."

[tracybirds]

John and 6 :)

Thank you!! Hope you enjoy my rambles and vague sense of a story lol <3 I decided to give John a go on the 2050s version of the "vomit comet". Note that I have not been to space, have limited experiences with extended freefall, and I'm banking on everyone else being in a similar position so that any nonsense I spew is easily overlooked lol

That being said, have an article because of course I did SOME research xD When they refer to "anorexia" in the symptoms, I'm like 90% sure they're meaning a general loss of appetite NOT anorexia nervosa.... that threw me for a loop at first.

Gentle Prompts - 6. "I've got you."

His chest heaved, the shot of adrenaline marking the start of his racing heart. He could faintly recall the feeling, running laps bent over and gasping with a stitch in his side, or maybe in a school gym running through the same calisthenics day in and day out with gritted teeth as he silently hated the man shouting at them all to reach a standard beyond their experience. There was some sort of specific technique to breathe, something he'd been taught to employ, but that all meant very little now that the air had rushed from his lungs.

There was oxygen of course, otherwise John knew he'd have passed out already, and since he remained endlessly, stubbornly conscious, there must be plenty of it.

It was a good start.

"Still with us, Johnny?" called Jeff.

He nodded, eyes firmly shut as the whooshing in his stomach settled into normal gravity, surrounded once more by the sensation of synthetic fabric on skin.

"You sure?" asked Scott. John didn't need to open his eyes to know his brother was grinning.

He gestured rudely in response, trying to focus on stopping the world from spinning. No longer was he being jostled about, bouncing off the force of the chair, the wall, the seatbelt.

"Gonna need a verbal confirmation before we make another run of it, John," said Jeff. John opened his eyes to meet his father's in the mirror.

"I'm fine," he said. "'S just disorientating."

Jeff nodded. "First taste of zero g always is."

That wasn't what I meant, John wanted to say, the heaviness in his limbs pulling him down and away from where he wanted to be, his inner balance thrown off kilter forever by experiencing something of which he'd always dreamed. "Can we go again?"

"Looping around and climbing," confirmed Scott. "Dad, I can go solo if you want to jump in the back."

"I'm sure you can," said Jeff mildly. "But you'll go solo on my instruction, not yours."

Scott flushed, his jaw jumping as he shut his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

John paid them no attention as he slipped out of his seatbelt, centring himself as they reached the crest of the manoeuvre. A swooping in his stomach, followed by his feet gently lifting off the floor, confirmed the freefall and he whooped, pushing back down as his hands found the roof.

"Return to standard in 5... 4... 3..."

John scrambled to grab hold of something as his father's countdown filled the aircraft, and the floor came rushing up to meet him.

"Ow," he said succinctly, a tangle of arms and legs.

Jeff hardly glanced back.

"You only have about twenty seconds."

"I know," grumbled John. "It just caught me off guard."

"We're coming around again, get ready."

It was his own personal high, John decided, that little thrill of adrenaline as he watched the floor fall away from him again and again. A bubble of laughter escaped him, limbs flailing as they instinctively tried to swim despite his training.

Nothing could have trained him for this.

His stomach twisted mid air and John fell forward, heedless of his father's countdown.

He crashed into the floor, curled tightly in on himself as the disparity between his senses finally caught up with his body.

"John!"

He hardly heard the instructions his father barked at his brother, the heaving sensation overpowering as he shuddered.

Strong, familiar arms gathered him from the floor, old murmuring comfort filling his ears.

"I thought I'd be the one in three," he whispered, feeling small and foolish. "I belong up there."

"The other two thirds don't belong up there any less," said Jeff quietly. "You did well for your first time. We were pushing it so Scott could practice just as much as you."

"Cruising at thirty-six thousand," said Scott. "You alright, back there, John?"

He tapped Jeff's hand twice for yes, not yet trusting himself to speak. He'd had motion sickness before, reading in the back of the car as a child, and he'd thought he'd be prepared. The nausea was all-encompassing, the dizziness making the world dip in and out of focus as he blinked back the pain from blood pounding behind his eyes.

Jeff chuckled.

"You look as miserable as I was on my first flight. Don't worry, Johnny, I've got you. We're going home."

[prompts from here - feel free to send one through!]

[shirshik72]

BiTomas week

Day 2. Injury/Sick day

Author's notes: the characters' images are taken from the classic games and supplemented with my headcannons. This is completely unrelated to "Mortal Kombat 1" (2023).

Content with young!Bitomas affects me addictively. Yes, it's a dependency. No, I won't fight with it.

In the heat of training, it is very important to remain vigilant and attentive, otherwise at some point your ice dagger, not at all in training manners, will cut the thigh of your closest comrade with a deep painful wound. And this could well have remained an empty warning for Kuai Liang if one day he had not been lucky enough to become a direct participant in such an unpleasant story.

— Ouch! — Smoke hisses, grabbing his hip with both hands and doubling over in pain.

— Crap! — Tundra only now realized what he had done. With a quick movement, he clung to Tomas, trying to assess his wound. —  Sorry, I'm a little...

— Everything is fine? — Bi Han’s rough voice calls from behind, unceremoniously interrupting the words of his younger brother.

Someone's hand rests on Kuai Liang's shoulder:

— Let me look, — Hydro asks politely, moving him slightly to the side.

Tundra doesn't resist, only taking a few steps back, getting closer to his older brother. Bi Han's intense gaze does not turn to him, but only silently studies Smoke. Hydro carefully sits the victim on the floor, examining his injury closely. With a quick gesture, he asks Bi Han for a first aid kit, which within a couple of moments ends up in the hands of the water mage. A couple of minutes pass in absolute silence, only thickened by Bi Han’s unfriendly attitude. Having bandaged the wound and stopped the bleeding, Hydro clicked busily, standing on both legs:

— You need to go to the first aid station.

— I don’t think it’s all that serious, — Tomas modestly resists, trying to get up, but only hisses from the pain piercing his thigh.

— You need to go to the first aid station, — the water mage insistently repeats, with a short gesture, lowering Smoke back to the floor. — I’m telling you this as a doctor’s son. Bi Han, will you take him to gaffer Chen?

— I’ll take it, — Kuai Liang interjects. — It’s my fault, it’s up to me to rake it.

— No, — Hydro remarks with a sly smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. With a subtle wink at Tundra, he continued. — Don’t take this as rudeness or underestimation of your abilities, but I’m not entirely sure that you won’t make things worse. The path to the first aid station is long, and you have to carry Smoke in your arms. Of course, I know that you are strong, but I am sure that Sub-Zero is much stronger.

— Okay, — Kuai Liang nodded in bewilderment. He definitely understood that his brother’s friend was up to something, but so far, he could not quite understand what exactly.

— Bi Han? — asks Hydro, to which he just silently picks up Tomas in his arms. — Make sure you don’t drop it, — he adds, grinning.

Sub-Zero no longer pays any attention to his friend's words. Trying to subdue his rapid heartbeat, he mentally thanks all the Elder gods for the fact that the mask perfectly hides his rosy cheeks from prying eyes. Approximately the same thoughts arise in Smoke’s head when he feels Bi Han’s grip on his body. Tundra and Hydro just silently follow the guys with their gazes right up to the exit from the dojo.

— Do you want to bring them together too? — Kuai Liang asks, looking sideways at the guy in bewilderment.

— Indeed it is, comrade.

***

Doctor Chen's hut stood far away on the outskirts of the Lin Kuei fortress. Far from the bustle of the world, the old man, whose age, according to rumors, had already crossed the mark of 100 years, valued the proximity of nature and fresh air too much to place his home in the heart of the fortress, near the dojo. However, he never kicked out visitors, especially when it came to youngsters.

When the doctor was sorting through the dried medicinal herbs he had collected in the mountains, Bi Han’s loud and unceremonious call was heard:

— Hip, — the ninja said briefly, walking deeper into the hut and closing the door behind him.

The deaf old man turned to the guys, pointing to the bed with a simple gesture:

— Here.

Sub-Zero carefully placed Smoke in the indicated place.

— Turn him on his side, — the doctor asked again, hastily changing his glasses. He examined Tomas for a short time, after which he muttered with an important click. — It turned out ugly...

— I can go? — Bi Han asked, trying to hide his anxiety behind his cold indifference.

— No, — the healer resists, sensing the true state of the ninja’s soul. — Please help the old man and your friend. Then you can go wherever you want.

― Okay, — Bi Han exhales heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. By chance he meets Smoke's gaze, but, like him, he hastens to look away, breathing unevenly.

In complete silence, gaffer Chen smears the wound with herbal ointment with some pungent and disgusting smell. Tomas bites his lip, trying not to hiss from the unpleasant sensations, but nothing escapes the doctor’s attentive eyes.

— Take his hand.

— For what?! — Bi Han and Tomas ask at the same time.

— Take it, — the old man insists, looking steadily at Sub-Zero.

Hesitating a little, he still carries out the elder’s order, justifying himself by saying that without this, gaffer Chen would not have continued the procedure. His heart began to beat faster and his breathing became stifled. Perhaps there was nothing outstanding in this touch, but it naturally turned Bi Han’s head, causing his cheeks to fill with a crimson flame.

— Take it tight, — Chen demands. — Take my word for it, he doesn’t bite.

Heeding the doctor’s demand and obeying the desire of his heart, Bi Han clasps Tomas’s palm with both hands, looking shyly at the floor. His heart seemed ready to jump out of his chest from the feelings that overwhelmed him.

Satisfied with the current situation, the doctor began his work, wisely conjuring over Smoke’s injury. Everything was used: decoctions, ointments, powders, sayings and spells. There was little pleasant in this process. Everything stung, smelled bad and was very bitter.

However, Bi Han's touch eliminated any discomfort. His cold, rough hands were more pleasant than the most delicate silk or lily petals. Tomas's heart beat hard from this innocent gesture, his cheeks flushed red, and his whole body trembled with a surge of euphoria. He no longer paid any attention to the healer’s actions, because only one question was circling in his head: “Does Bi Han feel the same?”

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. When their gazes crossed again, Smoke clearly saw in those charming blue-black eyes the same awe that he himself experienced. This time they looked at each other for a long time, almost continuously admiring the charming reciprocity.

— It’s done, — concluded gaffer Chen, pleased with the absence of whining and sobbing during his work. — His training is over for today. Take him home and then you can go to the four winds.

— Can he walk?

— Yes, but you had better insure him anyway.

— Thank you, gaffer Chen, — Smoke says, bowing low to the doctor.

— I’m always happy to help, — the old man grins good-naturedly, handing him some bottles and hastily giving him instructions on how to use all these infusions and ointments.

Having said goodbye to the doctor, they went outside.

— Lean yourself up, — Bi Han ordered briefly, offering his shoulder.

Tomas obediently hung on him, feeling his heart beat wildly again, when Sub-Zero pulled him close to him by waist. The ride home was also silent. However, both of their thoughts were occupied only with that long gaze, full of reverent reciprocity.

Bi Han, as instructed, accompanied Tomas all the way to the house and, having received the silent approval of the owner, even went inside. Frozen in the hallway, both understood perfectly well that it was time to say goodbye... But for some reason I didn’t want to leave so desperately.

With his eyes fixed on the floor, Bi Han frantically searched for an excuse to stay, while Tomas, similarly looking at the wooden boards, could not find an excuse to detain him. A long minute passed in deep silence.

— Stay, — Smoke asked, timidly touching his hand.

— I’ll stay, — Sub-Zero responded confidently, looking into the depths of his happy gray eyes.

Postscript: I am not an English-speaking person and this is my first experience in writing a literary text in a foreign language. I apologize in advance for all my mistakes in this text and ask you to point them out in the comments or personal messages. Thanks a lot in advance to everyone!

Thanks to @bitomas-week for organizing the event and awesome themes.

[alpacahat67]

Idia Shroud is Autistic-Coded; Here's Why

Hello! Happy Autism Awareness Month! In celebration, I will be posting a wholeeee load of autistic traits I have found in Idia. This is coming from a person who, while undiagnosed, is most likely autistic.

If you have any additions, please tell me in whatever way is most convenient (comments, reblogs, asks, dms... whatever.) This list will likely be evergrowing as more events, vignettes, and story content are added to TWST. Some of these may be a stretch but ya know.

This is organized by trait for your (and my) convenience. Begins under cut!

*Warning, I am not a medical professional. I'm just autistic and for a while got fixated on autism itself. Which is why I call myself autistic... I've been researching this shit for many years lol

We'll be starting with DSM-5 requirements in order to be diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. Then, we will move to common experiences (things that most autistic people experience, but aren't a tell-tale sign that you're autistic and aren't a requirement for a professional diagnosis.) Finally will be disorders that Idia shows symptoms of that tend to co-occur with ASD.

Numbered list will explain the traits Idia demonstrates. At the end, the diagnostic criteria specified will be stated in parentheses and quotation marks.

A) Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts...

Generally, Idia is seen to have trouble communicating with his peers if not behind a screen or while interacting with something he enjoys (such as talking about anime or playing a board game.) ("Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity, ranging, for example, from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back-and-forth conversation...")

Idia's way of expressing emotion is difficult to pin down. He will go from speaking very quietly (and stuttering usually) in a near-monotone voice with an "emotionless" expression to talking loudly, quickly, and with a HUGE smile on his face. We don't quite get to see how he responds to nonverbal communication or how he portrays it himself (probably because it doesn't come up, or because of live2d restrictions), but we do learn that he hates eye contact I believe in his Birthday Boy vignette when he claims to hate having to laugh and make eye contact with normies (masking right there buddy go to a doctor) ("Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction, ranging, for example, from poorly integrated verbal and nonverbal communication; to abnormalities in eye contact and body language or deficits in understanding and use of gestures; to a total lack of facial expressions and nonverbal communication.")

This is where it could kinda get stretchy, partially because I for the life of me am having trouble understanding A.3. BUT. Idia is often very blunt, to the point where he's straight up rude, especially in situations where that kind of attitude is... not very helpful. See the Phantom Bride event when he chastises the boys coming to rescue him for looking disheveled after fighting for their lives, which makes them not want to rescue him despite his life being on the line (I think Ace even goes off on him for this lol.) Furthermore, the only people amongst his peers that he will indulge are Azul, Ortho and (unknowingly, and only online) Lilia. The rest he has zero interest in, whether he despises or is scared of them. They're all normies. Finally, it's shown that throughout his life he has had very little if not zero friends in real life aside from Ortho. To be fair, I don't think there were many kids his age back home lol. ("Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships, ranging, for example, from difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts; to difficulties in sharing imaginative play or in making friends; to absence of interest in peers.")

Part one of an autism diagnosis down! Idia shows persistent deficits in each social and communication area specified through A.1-A.3. In order to be diagnosed, you also much show two out of four of restricted, repetitive behaviors specified through B.1-B.4 below.

B) Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities, as manifested by at least two of the following, currently or by history...

Due to live2d restrictions, we never exactly get to see Idia physically stim. (Well, I'd argue we get to see Floyd physically stim with his constant swaying back and forth, but not like they can flap their hands or anything.) This one's a stretch, but his form of verbal stimming could be the little sound effects he makes at times, mostly in book 6 actually. Specifically, his "DA DA DA DAAAAA" after explaining the plot of Star Rogue to the overblot victims in Styx as well as his "BOOM BADA BOOM BOOM BOOM! HAH!" after finishing Ortho in the flashback sequence. Other than that, the only other ideas I'd have for repetitive movements or sounds are headcanons. I don't know if I'd count this one. ("Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech")

This is another one I don't think we ever see in-game. I don't know... the things I could consider part of this criteria would better fit as sensory things~! Again I'm an Idia connoisseur but if you know anything about this please tell me I will update this one. ("Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior")

Idia is shown to have MULTIPLE very strong interests. Whether this might be a special interest or hyperfixation... it's hard to tell, but I can sure guess. The longest-running interest we see him show to have, originating from way back when Ortho was still alive, is Star Rogue. Because he seems to know nearly everything about the game and has also maintained the interest for a long time, I would consider this a special interest (along with engineering and technomancy, which he's said to have excelled in since a young age.) Idia does talk about certain specific animes and other games he enjoys, but not to the degree of Star Rogue (yes that's my basis here), so I don't know if that's a special interest or just a hyperfixation. It's the same situation with idol groups, particularly Premo (or Fates on the Edge). This isn't even it. That man is fandom trash and I love him. ("Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus")

Idia is shown on multiple occasions to have sensory issues. To the point where, similarly to his strong interests, I don't know if I know half of it. During the Phantom Bride event and his Union Birthday vignette, Idia complains about his neck feeling cold due to his hair being brushed behind his hair (PB) or up in a ponytail (UB). He also complains about his Phantom Bride suit AND his Birthday Boy suit being "stuffy", but that one could also be a stretch. In the Harveston event, Idia says that he only eats his apples canned or peeled, which I'd chop up to sensory issues once again. (Although, that one could also be under B.2) Idia constantly has his headphones around his neck to listen to music. A bit of a stretch, but they're also noise canceling, so there's a chance he uses them to avoid overstimulation. Finally, Idia states that he doesn't like fish because it's smelly and slimy. I get that Idia raw fish is texture hell. As far as I know, there's no point in which Idia under-reacts to sensory input (e.g. pain) or becomes very invested in it (like staring at a moving wheel.) ("Hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of the environment")

And there we have it. Autism diagnosis. Idia demonstrates persistent deficits in all three sections under A and at least two sections under B. BUT WAIT! We still have C-E!

C) Symptoms must be present in the early developmental period (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities, or may be masked by learned strategies in later life).

Really, the only point in which we see Idia demonstrate autistic traits in early life is his interest in Star Rogue. This is probably just because of how the storyline is. We actually don't know very much about Idia OR Ortho when they were young. However I would argue that Idia does mask because of the multiple times where he immediately just gets upset prior to talking to someone (something he probably hides during conversation). And ofc that one time he complains about talking to normies in his Birthday Boy vignette (? it could've be a voice line.)

D) Symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning.

Idia's symptoms in fact significantly impair his life. I think that alone is obvious enough. We see it every time that man's on screen.

E) These disturbances are not better explained by intellectual disability (intellectual developmental disorder) or global developmental delay...

Symptoms that Idia experiences could very well be explained by other mental disorders such as social anxiety, but these are not intellectual disabilities. Explaining away ASD for Idia falls into a trap many autistic people do in real life with medical professionals who just can't believe that their patient is autistic for one reason or another; these people will sometimes receive a dozen different diagnoses that all could be better explained by autism spectrum disorder. That's not very cool. Therefore, this does not apply.

Specifically, Idia would likely have ASD co-morbid with social anxiety and most likely clinical depression. (I HAVE done some minor research into Idia and bipolar disorder, but that's a situation for another day and far more of a stretch than ASD ever could be.)

DSM-5 requirements cleared! Next stage, common experiences.

This is another thing I will need help for because it's not like there's scholarly articles on "things a lot of autistic people experience but it's definitely not something a doctor will ask you about." So please share. This is the list that will never stop growing.

Abnormal posture (Crewel gets onto Idia for not standing up straight, he often is portrayed sitting in chairs with his knees to his chest, and he's seen doing "dino hands" or "T-Rex arms" in battle mode on occasion.)

Target of bullying (Many autistic people, especially autistic girls, tend to be bullied more often than their allistic peers. While not always to his face, people do tend to talk bad about Idia behind his back, Ortho even has a 'Don't Talk Shit About My Brother' beam for the bullies lol.)

More tone + social stuff... (Things that the DSM-5 thing didn't quite fit. In book 6 he jokes about torturing the overblots and when everyone's like 'dude wtf' he's like 'what it was a joke dumbass.' Could be written off as just an odd sense of humor, or it could be difficulty reading the room lol.)

A love for lists and organization. (When Idia speaks autonomously in your guest room, he mentions having things exactly where you need them and how it's 'convenience'. He also seems to have a knack for practicality. It's not too much of a stretch to say it ties into a need for organization.) (Idia has every NRC student organized into multiple tier lists on the R-SSR rating system like the in-game cards based on certain factors, such as most social.)

Easily startled. (Self-explanatory. HieEh.)

Preference for connection through interests. (Another reason why he is disconnected from those around him, aside from the whole trauma thing, and calls most other people "normies." They don't "get" his interests, so he has no interest in being friends with them.)

Difficulty with processing time. (Remember when he had apparently been working on Ortho's uhhh starsender gear? For like 12 hours straight?"

Relaxes through interacting with interests (In the vignette I referenced in 7, when Ortho tells him to take a break, he decides to play Star Rogue. Ortho meant to sleep.)

Putting off needs until one can not longer ignore them. (Idia often gets so engrossed in what he's doing that he forgets to do basic self-care tasks like eating.)

Infodumping. (Shown a lot in book 6. Namely with his like 2-3 minute long rant about Star Rogue. The rest, such as him rambling on and on about Styx, seems to be used so the audience knows what the HELL is happening. He does go on rants outside of this book tho.)

Gifted kid (Yeah he was called a "boy genius.")

This is not a complete list by any means, I could go on for DAYS.

On the topic of co-occurring disorders, the two most obvious disorders Idia clearly is dealing with are social anxiety and depression. Both of which are often co-morbid with ASD.

While social anxiety and ASD have a lot of overlap, they aren't the same thing, but often autism can contribute to the development of social anxiety through masking and the general difficulties in socializing that come with autism. Allistic people tend to react negatively in response to an autistic person doing something that the allistic person deems unorthodox. This reaction can often cause a lot of internal turmoil for the autistic person due to rejection-sensitive dysphoria. Furthermore, masking requires a high level of awareness of one's environment as well as the judgment of others. Thus, social anxiety can often develop.

While I don't know how exactly autism might affect depression as it does social anxiety, I do know that depression is VERY common in autistic adults. 5 in 10 adults with ASD have depression, and living in a world built for those who are neurotypical is hard for anyone who is neurodivergent, which definitely does not help. And it sure as hell has to make it worse for Idia of all people.

Additions made by others (tysm!): @hey-haven mentions in a reblog Idia's low empathy towards other people. I recommend heading over to their blog to check out what they said because they do make an amazing point and it's probably far better than anything I could explain (lol). But to paraphrase, they cite specifically Idia making fun of his classmates who just fought for their lives to rescue him during the Phantom Bride event and his attitude towards the overblot victims and their reactions to being essentially kidnapped during book 6, in which he seems to not really "get" why they're so upset. Generally, when it surrounds emotions that aren't his own, he's pretty oblivious. They also bring up his little "whee-hee-hee" laugh! It brings up an observation I've seen of autistic people (seemingly) laughing at "random" or generally inappropriate times because we tend to express laughter in a voiced manner (like laughing out loud because you find something genuinely funny) rather than an unvoiced manner (like the little exhale you do at a funny photo on your phone). Idia laughs a lot, I don't know if it's realistic to connect it to autism or if it's better explained by him just being a weird guy (which I love about him don't get me wrong lol.) Although the study about this was with specifically autistic and non-autistic children though... it's food for thought I guess.

And with that, my essay comes to a close. Again, happy Autism Awareness Month! Share some of your favorite autistic, canon or otherwise, characters and boost autistic creators! And remember to not support Autism Speaks :)

Thank you for listening.

-Alpaca (autistic Idia Shroud enthusiast)

P.S. this post is so long that it's making my PC lag LMAOOOO

[lilkrissmuffett]

Don't Let the Bedbug-Man Bite

(Part II)

Perfect Cell/Fem!Reader

NSFW. Approximately 3k words.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Read part I here!

Roused from the unconscious void just before day breaks, your sleeping form shudders awake from the touch of something warm and sticky-wet against your bare shoulder. Clawed fingers card through the knotted mess of your hair and brush it away from your eyes as they flutter open, only to be greeted by darkness. And yet, you have to admit it almost feels kind of…nice. To wake up in the arms of someone (or something) that wants you there.

Even if it happens to be a murderous bio-android with a severe god complex and almost zero empathy for good measure.

“Whuh…huh?”, you mutter groggily, yawning into your pillow as you again feel what must be the android’s surprisingly soft lips, this time suckling at the sensitive skin right beneath your ear. You can hear the faint, low rumble of his dark laughter as he pulls away, shooting upright in bed and abruptly dragging you with him in the process. Your head reels with whiplash, leaving you dizzy for a moment. But it takes another few seconds for you to realize Cell is holding you in his lap, powerful arms wrapped around your waist. He squeezes you like a well-loved stuffed animal and you swear you hear your ribs creaking. You grimace, knowing for a fact that he’s probably grinning like a fiend at the mere thought of the pain he’s causing you.

“Good morning, pet. Awake at last, I see! I hope you weren’t planning on slumbering the whole day away.”, he chides you gently, kissing his way up the nape of your neck until he’s resting his chin atop your head. You scowl and gesture to the digital alarm clock sitting on what used to be your father’s side of the bed. The numbers glow a garish shade of red in the darkened bedroom.

“Christ, gimme a break, will ya? It’s literally five in the morning and your stupid game doesn’t start ‘til like noon, soooo…can you NOT?”, you respond with a childish whine, hating the fact that this creature's uncanny mockeries of human affection can still melt you into a puddle, regardless of how convincing it sounds.

Cell doesn’t even glance at the clock. He doesn’t need to. Time is too much of an irrelevant, man-made concept for a perfect being like himself to be much bothered by it. He is, however, annoyed by your complaining. Releasing you from his arms, he levitates your body off the bed with a wave of his finger and flings you onto the floor. None too gently either.

You hit the polished hardwood and skid into the wall with a decidedly unladylike grunt, face-planting on the ground with your ass in the air briefly before toppling over on your side. “Owwww…What the hell was that for?!” And there you go, whining again. Cell responds by crossing his arms over his chest and clearing his throat. Loudly. Something that an artificial being should never have to do for any reason other than to demand attention. That’s when you realized you must’ve really rustled his jimmies with that rude remark.

“Ah-heh-hem. You will not address me in such a disrespectful manner again, human.", he scolds you firmly, though there remains a faint hint of amusement in the curve of his lips, "Know…your…place. And that is either by my side like the good girl I know you can be…” Quick as a flash and the buzz of bio-mechanical wings, Cell is now looming over you, his bright yellow boot nudging you over onto your belly and soundly planting itself right on top of your spine. The squeal of a hinge in need of oil undermines the current threat he poses…but not by much. That shit hurts.

“...OR crushed beneath my foot like the rest of this planet’s miserable vermin.”

Just then, it dawns on you, that overwhelming sense that something is missing. All of a sudden, you aren’t thinking about the irony of getting stepped on by an overgrown bug. Instead, you’re whipping your head around in a near state of panic, shaky hands frantically pawing at the floor. The stress causes your voice to rise sharply in pitch as your throat tightens, scratching at the lacquered hardwood finish before you raise your trembling hands to your face. Dry, brick-colored residue caught beneath your nails, smelling of copper, snaps you out of your momentary panic and you round on Cell (or try to, anyway) with a shrill accusation.

“Ummm…Where are they?? W-what did you do with- with my—”

“Hm? What are you talking about?” Cell’s deep, butter-smooth voice is cool and maddeningly calm. He senses your distress and slowly lifts his weight off of your back before crouching down next to your squirming form, one arm casually draped across his knees. His eyes are aglow with curiosity now that much of his earlier anger has dissipated.

“M-my mom!! And dad! And-and…the blood– there was…so much blood…”, you blurt out, dangerously close to tears as you instinctively curl yourself into the fetal position. The android observes this little tantrum with a jarringly stoic expression, in stark contrast to your anguish-contorted features. He peers down at you, unblinking, taking stock of the range of emotions on display and mentally logging them away for future reference. As super intelligent as Dr. Gero’s most perfect creation may be, Cell is not exactly perceptive when it comes to understanding, well…feelings. But to his credit, you find that he’s learning quite a lot from what you’ve been teaching him. Inadvertent as those lessons are.

“Aw, now, now...Come here.”, he finally offers, reaching down to hoist you up by your arm and help you to stand on your own two feet. You sway and wobble for an awkward second or two, but he supports you with strong, steady hands on your hips, drawing you in. You bury your face in his chest, wetting his shiny plate armor with your tears. But Cell doesn’t seem to mind. He may absolutely detest whining and complaining and just general bratty behavior, but crying is a unique and fascinating concept to a creature that cannot produce tears of their own. In fact, he normally takes every opportunity to encourage it, but this time he deigns to show a shred of sympathy towards you instead of actively exacerbating what turned on the waterworks in the first place. Tipping your chin up with one finger, he uses his thumb to gently wipe your cheeks dry, mindful not to mar your delicate skin with his sharp, black nails.

“Not to worry, dear. I took it upon myself to properly dispose of the corpses after our coupling in the wee hours of the morning. I rightly assumed it would be prudent to clean up the mess while you were fast asleep, lest I upset you and provoke more of those…irritating mouth-sounds.”

You can practically hear the way his upper lip curls in disgust on that last part, which is also what may have sent you over the edge into full-blown rage mode. Your whole body goes rigid, shoulders shaking as you attempt to angrily shove him away. Naturally, he doesn't budge at all; you may as well be a mouse trying to move a mountain...or more accurately, a sentient battle-tank.

“Those corpses…? That so-called ‘mess’ you cleaned…? Yeah, that was my family, you monster!”, you ground out through grit teeth as you plant your palms on Cell’s exo-skeletal chest-plates, trying in vain to wrestle yourself out of his clutches. Your fingers ball up into tight, white-knuckled fists and start pounding away, but the most you can do to make yourself feel even a smidge better is continue to verbally assault him.

“God DAMMIT, they fucking…raised me, they- they loved me, they took care of me my whole LIFE and you—”

“And I…do not?”

You pause, noticing that Cell is barely reacting to your impassioned blathering, much to your surprise. Merely sliding his hands up along your back, he lifts your shirt with his movements to better feel the warmth of your skin. He rubs in soothing circles, lightly tracing the shape of your spine as you dissolve into wordless, hiccuping sobs. What you don't see during your brief outburst, is your captor staring down at the top of your bowed head with a mix of mild confusion and…something else that might’ve been mistaken for genuine concern.

“There, there...surely my pet knows better than that. If I did not care for you, I could safely say that you would have already joined your dear parents at the bottom of the ravine not a mile behind this very domicile.”

Frozen still at Cell’s well-articulated, but frighteningly casual point, you try your best not to blow up all over again. Pissing off a ruthless death machine hell-bent on obliterating the entire human race would not be your smartest life decision.

But it might be the last.

“Now. Eyes up here, kitten.”, he commands, knowing that this particular pet-name has the ability to lower your defenses, rendering you even more vulnerable than usual. Crafty bastard. “I would like to see your face. Even when you are not smiling, I find that your appearance is quite visually engaging to look upon.”

“Pff- Wow, you suck at compliments.”, you pout, sniffling a bit as you reluctantly raise your eyes to meet his own. You absolutely can’t stand that Cell can tame your fury so quickly just by virtue of being himself. Pompous, self-important windbag that he is.

“Oh? Well, would it be more acceptable if I said that the sight of your physical form stimulates my pleasure receptors?”

“Uh...you’re getting warmer, I guess...” Unable to suppress a bittersweet smirk at just how clueless Cell can really be, you’re quick to notice that his reply is as predictably him as you’d expect.

“Am I really?”, he asks with a slight raise of a brow-ridge. “Hmm…that is a bit odd. Perhaps I should run a core temperature diagnostic and…”

“No, no, that’s not…wait a sec.”, you sigh in exasperation, shaking your head and pinching the bridge of your nose. “What I meant was that your second try at complimenting me was better. Kinda weird and awkward, but still. Not awful.”

Confusion gives way to a toothy smirk, fangs bared and magenta eyes gleaming with pride when he scoops you up as if you were nothing but a doll. Your feet dangle in the air helplessly while Cell looks you up and down. But before you can voice a single word of protest, he hugs you close and presses his lips to yours. Hungrily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was practically starving for you. It's no wonder, since you doubt that a seven-foot cicada man born in a mad scientist's laboratory could possibly have much experience in the ways of...l'amour.

“Ahh, my darling pet. I am glad to be able to please you with my words as well as the rest of my perfect form.”, he purrs between slow, deep kisses, slipping his long, violet-hued tongue into your mouth without warning, tangling with yours. He's aggressive, though you can tell that he's trying to show some semblance of restraint just by the way he doesn't try to smother you to death. But as he explores every ridge and crevice of your teeth and gums, it somehow feels even more disgustingly intimate than when you were riding his nasty hentai tentacles. Cell doesn’t kiss you like he wants to kiss you. He kisses you like he wants to absorb your very essence.  “However, I must admit I do enjoy this sort of activity. Quite a lot, in fact. You taste almost as delicious as you look…Almost.”

“Mmm…Cell, are you saying you think I’m, like…pretty?”, you manage to murmur against his mouth, unable to get used to the strangely chemical, yet faintly sweet taste of him, almost like licking a latex glove dusted with sugar.

This unusual show of candor earns you a low chuckle, humming like a revved engine motor at the back of his throat.

“Perhaps. Perhaps I am.” 

He mouths along the line of your jaw before settling on the side of your neck, latching onto the soft flesh as if to suck you dry. The hand that isn’t cradling the curve of your waist sneaks further south, helping itself to a handful of your ass as you wrap your legs around him. His chest rumbles with approval when you inevitably arch into his touch, savoring the power he wields over someone much smaller and weaker than he. 

“Heh…So needy~", he teases, pulling away from your kiss-bitten skin with a wet, suctioned pop. I can see that it does not take very much to arouse you, human. Even your scent strongly indicates that your womb is fertile. That you are primed and ready to, as you would so crassly put it…get fucked?” 

Aaaand there’s that trademark condescension again. Oh, how you’ve…not missed it at all. Still, you’re already a bit too turned on for his big, dumb mouth to kill the mood yet. Something about that vulgar word rolling off his tongue in that ridiculous pish-posh accent of his makes your thighs clench a little tighter around the solid pillar of muscle that is his waist. “Nngh– S-stop it…I’m supposed to be pissed at you, remember…?”, you grumble indignantly, looking the other way in red-faced shame as Cell leans in to playfully nip at your earlobe, tugging the studded piercing between his teeth.

“Pretty thing…Did I not tell you once before?”, he growls seductively, breath hot and moist and yet somehow weirdly sterile as it fans across your flesh. He wields every new word he learns from you like a weapon he doesn’t even need. “I can make you forget…everything.” Cell’s voice is hushed yet softly evil, his tone as tender as the touch of his claws teasing across the small of your bare back. He takes one of your hands in his, lifts it to his mouth as if to kiss it. But instead he goes for the thumping pulse point of your inner wrist, slowly tracing the visible veins with his tongue, causing you to wince uncomfortably and turn your face literally anywhere else until he finally lets go. The touch of this cold-hearted machine softens you like nothing else, his voice makes you shudder like you've just seen the ghost of a future long since passed.

Everything.

You cling to his muscular torso as the first rays of early morning sun begin to seep into the room. He’s the harbinger of the coming apocalypse and yet you somehow find safety in the hard shell of his embrace. Whether or not he plans to exterminate you once he's drained every drop of entertainment's worth from planet Earth is no longer a question, it's not like he can carry you off to the far reaches of space like in some inane fairy tale with a dark sci-fi twist. It is inevitable that Cell will emerge the victor in his silly, pointless little tournament and the world you know will be reduced to nothing but a cloud of stardust caught in the beat of his wings while he gracefully flies away without a backwards glance.

A wild thought strikes you out of the blue as you marvel at how truly terrifying Perfect Cell appears bathed in the light of dawn, towering and regal in his sharp-featured, otherworldly beauty. You can feel his gaze following yours as it roams from the tall peaks of his crown to the flawless, marble-white skin between his neck and shoulders. Why do you want to kiss it so badly?

How can such a threat sound so…sweet?

“I am the only exception, pet. I am all that remains.”, he finishes with unwavering conviction. Like his word is absolute. Perfect.

And the worst part is…you’re starting to believe it.

[astridthevalkyrie]

chand ko chakor dekhe, tujkho naseebo wala (the bird looks at the moon, a lucky one looks at you) | hawks x reader | chapter 2

“You’ve died twice? From clocks?” “I know you’re not blind to the rocks and debris flying literally everywhere! The world would be better off without you in it!” you scream at the villain. The machine is even louder as it breaks and jams into the ground. “Flying building pieces or something, I don’t know—one hit me yesterday. The first day I got knocked into a wall, and then I woke up hugging my body pillow. Same thing the next day. And the next, and the next. Did my number three pro hero partner save me? No, he let me get stuck in a fucking time loop!” Or, you’ll do a lot of things with infinite time on your hands, but falling in love with Keigo Takami isn’t one of them.

a/n: you know it's a good writing kick when i'm updating despite no one liking this but me LOL

warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns. FOUL language, reader curses so much, and just general rudeness, lots of death because reader is morbid, reader slutshames hawks

1

“So how many times have you told me?”

“Jesus, you must be allergic to asking original questions.”

Hawks levels you with an unimpressed look. “I’d say something about how I obviously wouldn’t remember my past self’s questions—”

“‘But you’ll probably make fun of me by repeating verbatim what I’m saying.’” You smirk at the pained look on his face that accompanies your air quotes. “Yeah. Now you’re going to try and think of an original, out of the box question to ask, which, if you can believe it or not, varies on how I move or what I say. I look right, you ask me what past you has said so far, but if I look left, you ask me about how I’ve been keeping myself entertained.”

After a long pause in which you think about how much you hate this fucking coffee, Hawks says, “You’re going to be a pain to talk to.”

“I’m a goddamn delight. You’re the one I’ve had to convince of this six whole times.”

“But you keep tellin’ me, sweetheart.” Ew. Ew. “Why is that?”

“I told you, you’re a constant everyday. Besides me dying.”

“You die—”

“Yes,” you sigh impatiently, “I never get through the day without dying. The longest I’ve gone is till 4 PM.” Gesture to the clock that you know is five minutes ahead. “So, one hour left to go! Yay me.”

Now you both only stare at each other, which is new, since Hawks can usually never shut the fuck up. There’s a question you want to ask, have wanted to ask for the past few days you’ve told him (with some breaks in between because come on, you’re not a walking Wikipedia page for fucking time loops and Hawks has no idea how to not be a pain) but you’re not going to because. Uh. Insecurity or some shit. 

Taking a long swig of his yucky strawberry bright pink dark-as-his-soul drink, freaky golden eyes observe you. You only darken your own gaze. What is this? A death match? Well, you’ve died several times and he’s still stuck at zero so. You know. He can suck your dick.

“Why don’t you ask me some questions?” he finally offers, and when you narrow your eyes, he grins cheerfully. “C’mon, songbird, you know you want to.”

“What’s the ratio of men you’ve been with versus women?”

“Four to nine. Challenge me next time.”

What a smug little shit. “Slut. How crazy do you think I am right now?”

“Not any more than normal.”

“How do you not sweat in that oversized jacket?”

“Bird stuff. And style takes priority over comfort.”

“Wild.” This is boring. Fucking boring, you’re bored, and you could die at any time. How boring does something have to be for you to not be nervous about death? Goddamn. 

You’re nearly beaming when a gunshot hits the ceiling, only for your happy mood to be replaced by a horrified one when a literal mini feather takes the robber out of the store and knocks him against a lamppost. What the fuck. What the fuck, dude.

The waitress who makes the least shitty coffee in the whole cafe has tears in her eyes. “Oh, thank you, Hawks! Thank you! I was so scared!”

“When?”

A fat tear catches on her lip as she quivers. “W-what?”

“When were you scared? He dealt with that in a second! The asshole didn’t even give you time to be scared!”

“I’m fast,” Hawks winks at her, stepping too close for your comfort. Slut. WHORE. “Oh my god,” he snaps his fingers in realization, “you knew that was going to happen. You’re a bad person.” For some reason, that thought is abso-fucking-lutely hilarious to him. “You were so about to let this store be robbed.”

“Um, no. For your FYI—”

“Redundant—”

“The same things don’t happen everyday. I mean that stupid fucking shit for brains asshole clock bitch always shows up, but the cafe has never been robbed before. That’s just the universe trying to kill me. Look.” You stomp out, waving away the waitress who seems too hesitant to tell you that you have to pay they can put you in jail give you a life sentence it won’t matter now innit and kneel down by the robber.

“Aha! One more bullet. This was my death instrument. But you interrupted.” 

SCARY shimmery golden eyes get closer closerthanhewastothewaitress until you’re knelt up against the same lamppost that gave Mr. Robber a concussion. “So I saved your life. Do I get a thank you kiss?”

“You get a choke on my balls, man. Also, you’re being, like. Really casual about this. Consistently. You’re telling me to try stuff and I’m trying the stuff, like I watched the Bill Murray movie and I gave myself a really good orgasm, and none of it worked, but if I didn’t know better I’d say you were living this with me.”

“Nah.” The corners of his lips quirk up genuinely. “I’m just trying to match whatever you’re giving me. You’re not panicking, so I’m not gonna be the one who tries to push you over the edge.”

“But I am panicking. Like, it’s whatever because I can’t stop it, but Hawks, I’m still...” You blink, looking at him, for the first time, with a defeated look. “Stuck.”

The pro catches your chin before it falls, forcing it up to meet his gaze. Ugly, lemon-colored eyes. Lips that at least four men and nine women have kissed. You wonder if Hawks is into degradation. He looks like he has a praise kink.

His hand encircles your wrist, he leans in, and then he blows a cherry on your cheek.

“Gross, dude, you’re gross!”

“Tell me everyday.” he replies cheerfully, “not that I’m gross.” You’re going to tell him exactly that everyday. Even when you’re not in a time loop. If you’re ever not in a time loop. “But about what’s happening. I’ll help get you unstuck no matter what.”

Why. You’re not gonna ask that. You’re just gonna accept the help that he owes you for not saving you the first day. And fuck that little butterfly-flutterfly shitstain feeling that’s usually reserved for your pussy that’s creeping up higher and twisting into knots in your stomach.

(The only time you’ve ever felt it with Hawks in the past was that one time he was fucking stuffing his gob with cheap street vendor fried chicken and when he swallowed he. Groaned. Out loud. All disgusting and unghhhh and shit.  And your womanly wiles liked it. The fuck.)

“Fine.” Your palm touches his cheek right as the robber comes to, taking the gun that you cleverly left at his side and blowing a hole in your head. 

—————————————————

You will not be telling Hawks you died while caressing his prickly bird face.

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In three days actuallynodaysatallhowSPOOKY, it’s 4 PM, and you and Hawks are at the top of the highest building in the city. 

“You never did ask.” Hawks looks and sounds like a villain, surrounded by so many feathers pointed outward. You feel like a civ too, in the middle of it all, standing helplessly. But you’re not scared of him. If you weren’t sure you could take him? Then maybe. Are you sure? Maybe. Whatever. You can work on that confidence todaymorrow.

“Ask what?” The way your hands are up as though you’re ready to fight invisible demons would you make you fucking cackle if it was anyone else.

“Why my questions are different depending on the way you turn.”

You release a heavy laugh, eyes darting around like a madwoman. What will it be? A comet? A criminal? The building itself crumbling? You’d think a person would know what to expect after…nineteen? twenty? however-many-the-fuck-days. “You shit. That’s why you’ve been telling me to ask you stuff each day. Clever little birdbrain.”

A fly barely gets into the fray before a crimson feather wraps around it and tosses it to the side. Hawks does many things, but taking chances when it comes to doing his job isn’t one of them, apparently. Not that this is his job. Or at least you didn’t ask for it to be if he’s making it his personal mission to ensure you live that’s on him and only him.

“So why?”

“Oh, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“What!? Why not?”

“Because now there’s at least one piece of info that you won’t know and can’t parrot to poor tomorrow me.” He grins, showing you his stupid pearly whites. “Sucks to suck.”

“Fuck you.” You flip him off. “I’ll just manipulate it out of you tomorrow.”

Hawks’ voice comes out in a song—only this bitch would somehow find a way to one-up you when you’re literally immortal. “No, you woooon’t, songbird. Oh, hey!” He holds up his phone. “4:01!”

“4:01?” Your eyes bulge.

“Four o fucking one!”

“4:01!” you shriek happily, throwing yourself into his arms. Hawks squeezes you tight, burying his face in your hair like you two are the parents of some graduating high school student who was also the class president as THOUGH your combined genes would ever create such a genius. 

Hawks is warm.

A plane fucking crashes into you. He’s miraculously spared.

Bitch.