#and react normally to normal things like a normal guy!

[missmadella]

"How they react when they get called by their full Name" // Tokyo Revengers

Charakters: Mikey, Sanzu, Kokonoi, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Ran, Rindou, Izana

Synopsis: There’s one thing every Tokyo Rev boy knows: when you drop their full name — first and last — they’ve seriously screwed up. It could be a forgotten date, a stolen dessert, a jealous outburst, or just plain stupidity, but once that name leaves your lips? Oh, they feel it.

CW: Light cursing, jealousy/possessiveness, mild violence (slaps, fights), flirty teasing,emotional tension

Mikey (Manjiro Sano):

The sun was beginning to dip behind the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over the Musashi Shrine. The old Toman gang had gathered there, much like they always did, lounging on the steps and chatting about their plans for the next big move. Mikey stood at the forefront, his jacket casually draped over his shoulders as he began to talk about the upcoming fight with another gang. Draken, always close behind him, kept an eye on the rest of the group, ensuring no one got too rowdy.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted as he noticed movement near the shrine stairs. At first, he couldn’t make out who it was — the person was still too far away. But when a loud, clear “MANJIRO SANO” echoed across the quiet shrine, he knew exactly who it was.

The whole group froze.

Heads turned in unison, eyes wide as they realized it was none other than Mikey’s girlfriend — and she was not happy.

Draken’s eyes flicked to Mikey, who had stopped mid-sentence, his smirk fading into something more cautious. You walked through the crowd of Toman members, your steps deliberate and filled with an icy determination. The guys instinctively parted to make room, stepping aside like a wave in front of you.

“Mikey, what the hell...” Mitsuya, one of the vice-captains, started to speak, but the instant your angry glare landed on him, he went silent. His words died in his throat, and he wisely shut up, not wanting to get between you and whatever had set you off.

Everyone knew who Mikey’s “wife” was — that teasing nickname for you when you and Mikey went official. And normally, you were the sweetest girl anyone could meet. The kind of girl they'd run into on a late-night walk down the city, smiling and saying hello to everyone. But the guys also knew that when you were angry, nobody wanted to be near you. You didn’t need to use your fists to make your point. Your words were sharp enough to cut through anything.

And in that moment, every single one of them could tell that Mikey had messed up big time. Especially when you called him by his full name.

You reached the stairs where Mikey stood, the air around you heavy with the tension that had suddenly gripped the whole shrine. You didn’t shout — you didn’t need to. Your cold gaze alone sent a wave of fear through him. With barely a whisper, you spoke. “Where is my dorayaki that was on my counter this morning?”

The moment you asked, Mikey’s face paled slightly, and his usual confident demeanor cracked, just enough for Draken to notice the shift. He watched as Mikey's eyes darted around, his lips twitching, unsure of how to respond.

“Baby… I don’t… know what you’re talking about,” Mikey said, his voice a little shakier than usual — nothing loud enough for the others to catch, but Draken saw it. Mikey was genuinely scared.

Your gaze never wavered. Your face remained hard, and you took a step closer, your eyes locked on his. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

The silence in the air was thick, and even the usual chatter between the Toman members had died down, everyone sensing that this was no ordinary disagreement. Mikey swallowed hard, his confident smirk gone. “Baby…”

The way you stood there — unmoving, your voice cold, your anger barely contained — made Mikey’s insides twist. The entire shrine had become a pressure cooker, and it felt like you were the only one in control.

He hesitated, then took a step closer, moving down a single stair. His eyes never left yours, but you stood firm, arms crossed tightly in front of your chest. “I’m sorry, baby,” Mikey said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t know those were yours.” He took another step toward you, trying to ease the tension, his usual carefree attitude replaced with a hint of concern.

Big mistake.

Without warning, you lunged forward, grabbing his ear in a swift motion. “How dare you eat my sweets?” you hissed, your grip firm enough to make him wince. “I’d been looking forward to that all day, Manjiro.”

His face contorted in pain, but it was the way you were looking at him — that cold, steely gaze — that made him feel the full force of your anger. He knew he’d messed up, and now he was paying the price.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Mikey groaned, wincing under your tight grip. “I swear, they were making fun of me, telling me I should eat them. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. I’ll never do it again.”

But you weren’t having any of it. The pain in his ear intensified as you squeezed harder. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again.”

Finally, with a final, sharp tug, you let go of his ear. It was red, and Mikey winced as he rubbed it, his eyes still apologetic. But before you could even begin to walk away, Mikey quickly grabbed your wrist, holding you in place.

You shot him a glare, making it clear with a look that he needed to think very carefully about what he was doing next. “Let go of me,” you muttered, your voice low but threatening.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Mikey murmured, his voice softening as he pulled you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You closed your eyes at the sensation, your body relaxing just a little bit as your frustration started to melt away. A heavy sigh left your lips as you opened your eyes, staring at him again. “You better make it up to me, or you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Ouch,” Draken heard Chifuyu mutter under his breath, a small laugh following. The tension in the air had slightly lifted, but it was clear Mikey wasn’t off the hook yet.

“I won’t do it again,” Mikey promised, his voice soft and sincere. His grip on your wrist loosened as his hand moved gently to your face. “But please… don’t call me by my first name again. I’m sorry, baby.”

Before you could say anything, Mikey leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips. It was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the anger that had flared moments ago. You kissed him back, your hand moving to the side of his face, your thumb gently caressing his cheek.

“If you ever do this again,” you warned, pulling back slightly but keeping your hand on his face, “I will be your worst nightmare.”

Mikey smirked, his usual cocky confidence returning — just a little bit — as he leaned down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was brief but meaningful, and when you pulled away, you dropped onto the last step of the shrine, sitting down with a sigh.

Mikey removed his jacket, draping it over your shoulders with a small, playful smile. “Alright, I’m gonna finish the meeting now. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

With that, Mikey turned back to the group, his usual carefree attitude settling back into place, but he kept a soft smile on his face, knowing he’d narrowly escaped a much worse fate.

___________________________________________________________________________

Sanzu Haruchiyo:

The Bonten boardroom was thick with tension — dark suits, whispered strategies, and Mikey’s dead-eyed stare at the head of the table.

Sanzu leaned back in his seat, legs kicked up on the polished wood, twirling a butterfly knife in his fingers like the meeting was background noise. Casual, cocky — typical.

That is, until the doors slammed open with a force that made Koko flinch and Rindou instinctively reach for his gun.

Every head turned.

And there you were.

Hair wind-blown, heels echoing like gunshots, expression locked in one single mood: rage.

You didn’t even glance at the others — your eyes zeroed in on one person only.

"Haruchiyo. Sanzu."

His knife stilled mid-spin.

He blinked. Tilted his head.

“Ohhh?” he drawled, an unstable grin curling onto his lips. “Full name… in front of my coworkers? What’d I do this time, doll?”

You marched right up to him and — crack.

The slap rang out, sharp and echoing. The room went dead silent. Even Mikey raised an eyebrow.

Sanzu didn’t move. Just slowly turned his head back toward you, a red mark blooming on his cheek — and a completely unhinged smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

That did not help.

“Don’t you dare,” you growled, eyes blazing. “You forgot. You forgot our anniversary, Haruchiyo. You left me sitting alone at a reservation you made, looking like an idiot. You’ve done a lot of reckless shit, but this—this is what I don’t forgive.”

Sanzu opened his mouth to joke again, but one look at your face — how your voice wavered just slightly at the end — and something actually clicked.

He stood slowly, grin slipping into something more serious. His usual cockiness twisted with confusion and guilt.

“I—shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t forget, I just—no. No, I did forget.”

You scoffed, turned on your heel.

“I’m done. Don’t worry — you’ll have time to spin your knife and play gangster without having to think about me ever again.”

You were almost to the door when Mikey spoke — quietly, but with weight.

“Sanzu.”

He froze.

“If you don’t fix this in the next ten minutes, don’t come back to the table.”

Everyone else stayed silent. They knew what that meant.

Sanzu blinked at his boss, then at you. He dragged a hand down his face. Then he was moving — fast.

You didn’t make it to the elevator.

A hand caught your wrist, not rough but firm.

“Wait,” he said, and for once, his voice wasn’t teasing. It was low. Serious. “I messed up. I know I did. You wanna break my nose next? Fine. You want a real apology? Give me tonight. Just tonight. I’ll fix it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I should walk out.”

“But you haven’t,” he said softly, tugging you closer, his other hand cradling the side of your face — right where your anger had turned his cheek red. “Which means I’ve still got a chance.”

You didn’t answer.

He leaned closer.

“Let me take you somewhere. Right now. Fuck the meeting. Mikey already said I’m screwed either way.”

You bit your lip. Still furious. Still hurt.

But his eyes — sharp, wild, pleading — were locked on yours like nothing else in the world mattered.

“…One chance,” you muttered.

“That’s all I need.”

And with that, he dragged you out by the hand — past a stunned Bonten, past Mikey’s amused smirk — ready to blow more money than sense fixing the night he should’ve never forgotten.

___________________________________________________________________________

Kokonoi Hajime:

Your afternoon was peaceful — warm tea, a half-read book, and your favorite playlist humming in the background.

Then your phone buzzed.

One alert. Then two. Then three.

“Transaction approved: ¥1,850,000 – Interior Luxury Aquatics.” “Your Bonten BlackCard was used at ‘KoiWorld Tokyo’.” “Estimated delivery scheduled for this evening.”

You stared at your phone, blinking slowly like it might explain itself.

It did not.

Instead, it showed a picture of a koi pond with custom underwater lighting, soundproof filtration, and a caption that read:

“Perfect centerpiece for a modern bathroom space.”

You stood up so fast your tea nearly spilled.

And you marched straight into the living room, already yelling.

“Hajime Kokonoi!”

He was lounging like royalty — silk pajama pants, socks mismatched (as always), hair perfectly in place even though he’d clearly done nothing all day. The TV was on but muted, and he was scrolling through his tablet like a man deep in international finance — or TikTok, it was hard to tell with him.

At the sound of his full name, he froze.

Then looked up, slow and cautious. “...Was it something I bought? Or something I said while half-asleep? Be honest. I need context before I defend myself.”

You held up your phone like a prosecutor presenting evidence. “A koi pond, Hajime?”

He tilted his head. “Ah. The koi pond.”

“Oh, there are others?”

“No. Not yet. But imagine the possibilities.”

You gave him a look that could set fire to expensive wallpaper. “In the guest bathroom?”

“Listen, listen, I thought it through. It’s the smallest bathroom, right? So guests don’t spend too long in there scrolling through TikTok. But if you give them a calming aquatic feature to look at while they—”

“—you’re describing bathroom fish therapy right now.”

“Exactly! You get it!” He beamed like he’d invented sliced bread. “It’s innovation, babe.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We agreed — no more extravagant impulse buys without telling each other. You promised after the rotating crystal gin shelf.”

“But that one was sick. Admit it.”

“It plays Beyoncé when it opens.”

“Luxury,” he said, dead serious.

You paced the room, already imagining poor houseguests slipping on wet tiles while koi fish stared them down in judgment. “This isn’t about fish, Hajime. This is about you not listening. Again. You can’t fix a boring bathroom by throwing seven fish in it and hoping for ambiance.”

He rose from the couch, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I hear you. Maybe it was a little… extra.”

“A little?”

“They gave me a discount if I named one of the koi after myself.”

You stared. “You’re putting a fish in a bathroom and naming it Hajime?”

“Well, I was... but I’ll rename him if it’ll help my case. What about... ‘I’m sorry’?”

You were trying so hard not to laugh, and he knew it. He stepped closer, slipping his arms around your waist as your resolve crumbled slightly.

“Babe,” he said softly, brushing a kiss against your temple, “I’ll cancel the installation if it really bothers you. Or I’ll move it to the terrace. Or build the koi a private spa in the guest bedroom. Whatever you want.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“But I’m cute,” he added with a wink.

You sighed. “If I ever see you spending seven figures on fish again, I’m calling you Hajime in front of Mikey. In front of everyone.”

He gasped. “That’s cold.”

“Even colder than koi water.”

“Okay, now that was hot. Use that in bed later.”

You smacked his arm, but you were laughing now. And he was grinning like a man who knew exactly how to get away with murder (and koi ponds).

___________________________________________________________________________

Mitsuya Takashi:

It was a quiet evening in the Mitsuya household. The living room was glowing warm with fairy lights, soft music hummed from the record player, and the faint scent of freshly brewed tea drifted from the kitchen.

You were sitting on the couch, waiting.

Waiting… and waiting.

The lasagna you had lovingly made was slowly getting cold, the table set with care — candles, folded napkins, even that dumb little place card he always laughed about that said “Takashi ”.

But he was late.

Not just ten-minutes-late.

We’re talking an hour and twenty-seven minutes late, and he hadn’t even texted.

You were just about to wrap the food up in cling wrap out of pure spite when the front door clicked open.

You didn’t even look up when you heard the soft, familiar thud of his boots being kicked off.

“Baaabe, I’m home—”

“Takashi Mitsuya.”

The way you said it — calm, measured, yet dangerously poised — made him freeze in the doorway, jacket half-off one arm.

He blinked. “...Oh. Wow. The full name.”

You finally turned around.

He looked guilty as hell.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “Forgot?”

You crossed your arms.

Mitsuya walked slowly into the room, holding up both hands like you were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. “Okay, in my defense—”

“You promised,” you said, voice soft but stern. “You literally promised you'd be home on time. And I didn’t even burn the lasagna this time.”

He winced. “I know. I know. Toman meeting ran late, then I got caught up helping Hakkai fix a shirt for his date, and then I couldn’t find my phone in all the fabric and—yeah, okay, I’m gonna stop talking.”

You stared for a moment longer before turning away, muttering, “It’s fine. I should’ve expected it. You’re the one who’s always taking care of everyone.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then:

“...Is this the part where you scold me more? Or kiss me?”

You blinked, turning slowly.

Mitsuya was grinning now — boyish and warm, clearly testing the waters, but sincere under it all. “Because you only ever call me Takashi Mitsuya when it’s one of those.”

You tried not to smile. Tried.

“Depends. Do you think you deserve a kiss right now?”

He walked right up to you, slipping his arms around your waist and leaning his forehead against yours.

“I deserve a chance to earn one,” he said softly.

You exhaled a little laugh, eyes half-lidded. “You always say the right thing.”

“I sew for a living, baby. I know how to thread things carefully.”

“Gross.”

“You love it.”

You did. So much it hurt sometimes.

You leaned up and kissed him — just once — before whispering near his ear, “You’re heating up that lasagna yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh — and dishes too.”

He groaned dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “You really know how to punish a man.”

“You forgot our dinner date. I’m letting you off easy.”

“I know. And I’m grateful.” He paused, pulling back with a soft smile. “But don’t stop calling me by my full name. It sounds really hot when you’re mad.”

You rolled your eyes and walked away — but not before tossing back a teasing, “Takashi Mitsuya, you’re impossible.”

His grin was full of love.

And this time, he didn't miss dinner.

__________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

You had left the apartment for thirty minutes.

Just thirty.

Enough time to grab your package from the post office, pick up snacks, and come back to what was supposed to be a chill movie night.

What you came back to instead... was chaos.

There was flour. Everywhere.

The cat — who looked like it had fought in the Great Pastry War — bolted past you with a string of dough wrapped around its leg. The TV was paused on a baking tutorial. The counters were stacked with bowls, some with batter, one suspiciously empty, and—

Oh no.

“CHIFUYU MATSUNO.”

A loud bang echoed from the kitchen.

You stormed in, and there he was: wide-eyed, mid-mixer, flour smudged on his cheek, apron crooked, and a cake that had clearly imploded in the oven behind him.

He blinked. “Okay, so—”

“Don’t you ‘okay, so’ me.”

“Before you get mad—”

“I left you alone for half an hour. I asked you to boil pasta. Not—what is this? A Great British Bake-Off rejection arc?”

He pointed to the collapsed cake like it betrayed him personally. “That was supposed to be a surprise! I was trying to make that caramel lava thing you said looked good—”

“By summoning Satan into the batter?”

He scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “...It did make a weird noise.”

You stared, exasperated beyond words. “And the cat?”

“Okay, the cat part wasn’t me. Technically. I dropped the cream. She jumped in.”

“Chifuyu, she looks like a haunted marshmallow.”

He stepped forward, laughing nervously, reaching out to brush flour off your jacket like that would somehow make up for it. “But babe... I did it for you.”

“You did arson in my kitchen for me?”

“Not arson! It’s creative expression!”

“You lit an oven mitt on fire!”

“Small fire. Controlled. Kinda.” His eyes sparkled with that grin that made you weak in the knees and homicidal at the same time. “But I mean... you’re not that mad, right?”

You raised your brows.

He smirked. “Because you called me Chifuyu Matsuno. Which you only do when you’re two seconds from either throwing me out the window or kissing me.”

“Guess which one I’m leaning toward.”

He leaned in, pressing a quick floury kiss to your cheek. “Kiss, obviously. You can’t resist me when I’m covered in catastrophe.”

You sighed, letting your forehead rest against his. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know. Now help me clean this up and I’ll order your favorite ramen. Double miso, no mushrooms.”

“Fine. But you’re on cat-cleanup duty.”

Chifuyu looked over at the flour-coated feline, now trying to eat a whisk.

“...I deserve that.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Kazutora Hanemiya:

You hadn’t meant to yell.

You hadn’t even meant to cry.

But when Kazutora walked in that night — shoulders slumped, knuckles red, hoodie pulled low to hide the bruising on his jaw — something inside you snapped.

He hadn’t answered your calls. Not one.

Hours of silence.

And then he just showed up, like he hadn’t disappeared again. Like he didn’t know what that kind of silence did to someone who loved him.

You stood there in the dim light of the apartment, arms crossed tightly, trying to hold yourself together as the door clicked shut behind him.

And then it happened.

“Kazutora Hanemiya.”

He flinched. Visibly.

The sound of his full name — sharp, deliberate, and full of everything you were holding back — cut through the room like a knife.

He didn’t look up at first. Didn’t meet your eyes.

“You didn’t call. You didn’t text. I thought—” You swallowed hard. “I thought something happened.”

He dropped his bag wordlessly by the door.

“I told you,” you said, quieter now, voice thick, “I told you the last time — I can’t go through that kind of fear again. Not from you. Not when I—”

He finally looked up.

And god, his eyes were tired.

Not physically — but in that way Kazutora always got when his mind spiraled too fast for him to grab onto anything stable. That distant, fragile expression that said I don't know how to stay, even when I want to.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he murmured. “I lost control again. And I just... I didn’t want to ruin the one good thing I have.”

You blinked away tears. “So your solution was to disappear? Do you know what that does to me?”

He took a shaky step forward, hands half-raised like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you.

“I’m not used to someone worrying about me,” he said, broken-soft. “Not like you do.”

You finally let out a breath that felt like it had been sitting in your chest for hours. “Then get used to it, Kazutora. Because I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to stop running like I’m going to disappear the second you mess up.”

He stared at you like you were the only solid thing in a world that always shifted beneath his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just... I get scared.”

You stepped toward him, gently placing your hand on his bruised cheek. “So do I. Every time you shut down like this.”

“I’ll try,” he breathed. “For you.”

You nodded, eyes softening. “And stop flinching when I say your full name. I only do it when I need you to listen.”

“I hear you,” he said, eyes closing as he leaned into your palm. “I hear you now.”

And in that quiet room, he finally let himself fall — not into chaos, not into guilt — but into you.

And for once, he didn’t run.

_________________________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

The night had started out like any other, with Ran’s usual charm and swagger as he wrapped you in his arms and promised to make it home on time. He even kissed you goodbye with that mischievous grin that made your heart race.

But now, here you were — standing alone in the dimly lit apartment, the cool silence pressing down on you as the hours ticked by.

Your patience had worn thin.

You had trusted him, even though you knew how unpredictable things could get when his brother, Rindou, was involved. You trusted that he would be there when he said he would.

But as the clock struck midnight, that familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach — the feeling that Ran wasn’t coming home.

Not again.

You were done being patient. Done waiting for a man who promised the world and never quite delivered. And so, with a heavy sigh, you grabbed your coat and stormed out the door.

You didn’t know where you were going, but you knew you needed answers.

When you arrived at the underground club, where you knew Ran usually wound up after a Toman meeting, the last thing you expected to see was him sitting in a corner booth — alone. His head was tilted back, staring up at the ceiling as if the world didn’t matter.

Your heart skipped a beat, and every step toward him felt like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You were angry. You were hurt. But mostly, you were tired.

As soon as you reached the booth, Ran’s eyes flicked toward you, and for a brief moment, you could see the shock on his face. His perfect smile faltered.

“Y/N?” His voice was low, and there was something about the way he said your name — like it was the first time he was seeing you in forever. But you didn’t want to hear his soft tone anymore.

“Ran Haitani,” you said, your voice cutting through the thick air like a blade. The use of his full name — not the teasing “Ran” or the quiet “baby” you usually called him — hit him harder than any punch.

His brows furrowed, and he stood up slowly. “Babe... what’s wrong?”

You glared at him, taking a step closer, voice shaking with both fury and raw emotion. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong, Ran? You’re what’s wrong.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the force of your words physically struck him.

“I don’t know why I keep letting you hurt me,” you continued, your voice rising in volume. “You make promises, and then you break them. You show up late, and when you finally do, you expect me to just forget that you were never here. You expect me to wait around like everything is fine.”

Ran’s eyes softened, and he reached out to you, but you pulled back before he could touch you. His hand froze in mid-air, a silent apology hanging between you.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a near-whisper, but there was still so much fire in it. “You think you’re the only one with a past full of mistakes, don’t you? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be scared of falling — to be scared that I’m not enough, or that you’ll just leave like everyone else?”

He closed the space between you, finally taking your hands in his with an urgency that made your heart skip. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you. But I do.”

His confession was raw, too much to take in at once, and for a moment, you couldn’t even breathe.

“I try. I really do. But when I get caught up in all the shit — with Rindou, with Toman... with everything I’ve built around myself — I forget what matters most. You. You matter the most.”

You didn’t know if you should believe him. You didn’t know if you could let him back in without getting hurt again.

“Don’t shut me out, Y/N,” Ran whispered, voice hoarse, hands tightening around yours. “Not again. I can’t lose you.”

The tension in the room thickened, but then Ran did something you didn’t expect. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His breath was warm against your neck, his heart pounding against your chest.

“Please... don’t leave me.” His voice cracked, and you felt it deep in your soul.

You didn’t push him away. You didn’t pull back.

Because despite everything, you didn’t want to lose him either.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound between you the quiet thrum of his heartbeat, his arms keeping you close as if you might slip away if he didn’t hold you tight enough.

And then, with his forehead resting against yours, he murmured softly, “I know I messed up. But I swear, Y/N, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m yours.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling the breath you’d been holding. “You better. Because I won’t be here forever if you keep doing this to me.”

Ran’s lips gently pressed to your forehead, his voice full of sincerity. “I know. And I won’t give you a reason to walk away again. I’ll make it right, I promise.”

And in that moment, with all the weight of his past and yours hanging in the air, you allowed yourself to believe him.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

It was supposed to be a calm, easy evening. You and Rindou had been planning a low-key night, just the two of you. No Bonten meetings. No wild distractions. Just takeout and a movie.

But as usual, things never went according to plan when Rindou was involved.

The door slammed open. There he was — looking like a mess.

You had barely taken a bite of your food before your phone buzzed with an unknown number.

“Where are you?” it read. “Don't wait up for me.”

That was it.

You hadn’t seen him for hours, and now he was texting you this?

By the time he came back home, you were already on edge. You had done your best to keep cool, but when Rindou walked in with a smug grin on his face, late as usual, you had had enough.

You didn’t even look up from the couch. You were too busy staring at your phone, pretending you weren’t fuming.

“What, no welcome home kiss?” Rindou teased, swaggering into the living room. He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and cracked his neck. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

And that was when it happened.

“Rindou Haitani.”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and you instantly saw the flicker of shock in his eyes. He froze, his playful smirk faltering as he processed your tone.

He blinked. “Full name now? Damn, I really messed up this time, huh?”

You stood up, your body trembling with barely contained anger. “You disappear for hours, and when you finally show up, you think you can just—” You threw your hands up in the air. “You think you can just act like it’s nothing? Like I’m just supposed to keep waiting around while you do whatever the hell you want?”

Rindou chuckled nervously, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze now. “Hey, come on, don’t be like that. I was busy, okay? Things came up.”

“Busy?” You scoffed, taking a step closer to him. “You’re always busy, Rindou. With meetings, with Bonten, with whatever the hell else you’re involved in! You never have time for me anymore.”

The grin on his face faltered for a second, but it was quickly replaced by an almost defiant look. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to treat me like I’m nothing when I’ve been nothing but patient with you. I’m tired of being the afterthought, Rindou.”

And that was when it clicked for him. The words you had said, the weight in your voice — it was real.

But instead of apologizing, instead of stepping back, Rindou did something that took you completely off guard.

He reached out and yanked you toward him, pinning you against his chest. The surprise left your lips, but you didn’t have time to react before he kissed you.

It was a kiss full of desperation — lips crashing into yours as if he was trying to prove something. His hands were urgent, tugging at your shirt like he couldn’t quite get close enough.

You pushed against his chest, trying to break free, but the more you struggled, the tighter he held you. “Rindou, get off me—”

“No,” he muttered, his voice low, his grip on your waist firm. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

And it hit you like a wave. He wasn’t doing this out of arrogance — he was doing it because he didn’t know any other way to fix things.

Finally, you stopped fighting. The anger drained from your body, replaced with something softer — but still, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

You pulled away slightly, breathless. “You can’t keep doing this, Rindou. You can’t just waltz in here and think everything’s fine.”

He rested his forehead against yours, his fingers lightly brushing through your hair. “I know. I know. I’m an idiot, okay? I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just a ‘sorry’? After everything?”

He smirked. “Well, it’s a start.”

A small laugh escaped you despite yourself. “You really are something else.”

But before you could fully process the situation, he had you pinned again, this time with a playful grin.

“You really know how to make a guy work for it,” Rindou teased, his voice now back to its usual teasing tone.

You sighed, shaking your head, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he leaned in, kissing your forehead lightly, “you’re still not getting rid of me.”

“Damn right,” you muttered, “But don’t think this is over. You’re going to have to earn back my trust.”

Rindou’s eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint, but underneath it, you could see the sincerity — for once, he wasn’t just playing games. He was all in, even if he was chaotic about it.

“Fine,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms. “But I’ll make sure to do it in the most dramatic way possible.”

“Of course you will.”

And despite everything — the mess, the chaos, the late nights — you couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real between you two. Even if it was a little messy.

_________________________________________________________________________

Izana Kurokawa:

You were fuming. It wasn't anything big, but it was the little things that piled up, and today, Izana had done one too many. He’d left his dirty clothes everywhere, again. His shoes were in the living room, and the smell of his cologne still lingered in the hallway like he thought he was some sort of royalty. You had tried to be patient, but something snapped when you saw his jacket just thrown over the back of the couch, taking up space where you wanted to sit.

"Izana Kurokawa!" you exclaimed, hands on your hips as you marched into the living room.

Izana was lounging on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing. He didn’t even glance up when you said his full name—just continued scrolling on his phone with his signature lazy grin.

You crossed your arms tighter, glaring at him. "Do you have to leave your stuff everywhere? How many times do I have to tell you?"

He finally looked up, unfazed. “Mmm… I think you’ve told me about three times already,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “But you know, I just can’t help it. I like to make myself comfortable.”

That was the moment it became clear to you that he was teasing you. Your irritation deepened. “Comfortable? I swear, you think everything should revolve around you!”

You could feel yourself getting worked up, but instead of saying anything else, you turned your back and started picking up his things, throwing them in his direction.

Izana sat up, suddenly intrigued. His eyes narrowed playfully as he watched you continue your mini-rampage. “You look cute when you're angry, you know that?”

That did it. You whirled around to face him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Izana Kurokawa, you better—”

But before you could finish, Izana was up in a flash, crossing the space between you in an instant. With a grin that could melt anyone's heart, he cupped your face gently, pulling you in for a kiss.

It was slow at first, a quiet moment that silenced your angry thoughts, his lips warm against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as the tension in your body melted away, and for a second, all you could feel was his touch.

You pulled away slightly, breathing a little heavier, and without thinking, you snapped, “You can’t just kiss your way out of everything, you know.”

Izana ignored you completely, smiling wider as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you back in for another kiss, this one deeper, making you forget the very reason you were mad in the first place.

When he pulled away, you were slightly breathless, your frustration evaporating into a faint smile despite yourself.

He leaned his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes with that familiar playful glint. “I can and will kiss my way out of anything,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But hey, I’ll pick up my stuff, okay? No need to get so worked up over my shoes.”

You blinked at him, trying to hold onto your frustration, but it was like trying to keep sand in your hands. “Izana...”

He kissed you once more, interrupting your half-hearted protest. “Shh, it’s fine, babe. Don’t worry about it. I’ll even go get your favorite snack later, just to make up for it.”

You sighed, trying not to smile as you pushed against his chest, though there was no real strength behind it. “You really know how to get out of trouble, don’t you?”

Izana grinned and gave you another quick kiss on the lips, his hand resting on the small of your back. “What can I say? It’s a gift. Now… let’s go get those snacks I promised. You’ll forget all about my shoes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. As much as you tried to stay annoyed, Izana had that effect on you. He knew how to turn even the most frustrating moments into something playful and lighthearted.

[kxsagi]

“𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐯𝐬. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬”

a/n: def suggestive, but these are headcanons of the boys as your husband reacting to your interview where the interviewer asks: “how’s your bedroom life with your husband?” and you respond amused, but making it clear that you won’t say anything because you know how out of hand your fandom can get it and your response only fuels the fire

kind of a continuation to this post

for my beautiful @mihyas-dieehefrau 🤍

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael

isagi yoichi

his interview starts off normal. real professional. smooth. and then the host smirks and goes: “so… your wife kind of obliterated the internet yesterday. care to comment on her ‘no moaning edits’ statement?” 

isagi literally chokes on air. 

he panics, face turning red immediately. like violently red. the crowd laughs, but he just squeaks out, “i-i mean! she’s not wrong?! i have seen those edits and i-it’s weird!” 

cue the giant screen behind him turning on to show a very sus fan edit with the song one of the girls by the weeknd and you and isagi's voices in AI sounding very... explicit.

he buries his face in his hands and goes, “please stop showing those. my mom watches these interviews.” 

the host asks if he’s jealous of the edits and isagi quickly goes, “of course not, she’s my wife. i already won!” 

then realizes what he said and turns even redder. 

still gets tagged in tens of thousands of new edits after this. and yes, he watches them secretly. with the volume low. just in case. 

itoshi rin

he walks into the interview calm as hell. usual poker face. the host tries to warm him up with soccer questions first. 

then they ask, “your wife said she won’t give us any bedroom tea because of fandom edits. but hypothetically, if she did, would you be mad?” 

rin blinks slowly and replies with zero hesitation: “she’s right. you people are insane.” 

the audience laughs nervously, and rin leans forward like he’s about to physically fight the camera, “you edited my voice onto a video where i was barking. barking.” 

gets visibly annoyed when they bring up the ‘daddy’ tiktok. you can see him restraining himself from throwing his mic. 

when asked if he watches the edits, he mutters, “... sometimes.” 

a fan yells “IS IT BECAUSE YOU’RE OBSESSED WITH HER?” and he answers with zero shame, “obviously.” 

the fandom eats it up. there’s now a new audio going viral: “obviously.” – rin itoshi, the whipped husband. 

itoshi sae

this man sits down like he owns the whole damn show. the host brings up your interview, expecting a subtle reaction. 

instead, sae smiles lazily and goes, “mm. she’s cute, isn’t she?” 

the crowd screams. people faint. someone proposes to him from row two (they get rejected). 

when asked about the “no moaning edits” line, he smirks. and says with a straight face: “funny thing is… some of those edits are accurate.” 

CHAOS. the audience erupts. the host spills their drink. the internet melts. 

sae just sips water and says, “you know, if you guys spent less time editing and more time working, you could afford therapy.” 

watches every edit. rates them. has a secret folder for the ones where you look too good. shows them to you in bed like, “look how obsessed they are. i win.” 

kaiser michael

struts into the interview like a runway model. already smiling. already knowing what’s coming. 

they bring up your “i know what y’all are capable of” comment and kaiser grins. 

“oh yeah, i knew what i was signing up for. she’s insane, and i love her for it.” 

when the host shows a fan edit with audio of kaiser growling “mine” and you edited into a telenovela scene, he laughs. 

“honestly? 10/10. good lighting. she looks hot. as always.” 

crowd starts chanting “HUSBAND GOALS!” and he eats it up. 

interviewer: “do you get jealous of her fans?” 

kaiser: “what, the ones who call her ‘mother’? no. i call her wife. stay mad.” 

he definitely has burner accounts. defends you in comment sections. threatens people politely. likes and reposts every good edit. 

ends the interview with: “keep making those edits. just remember, no matter how good they are, she still goes home with me and to me.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[lostwysteria]

(Part 14! Not much to say rn. ily all so much, tho!)

Masterlist

Ling finagled a grocery run out of Nice. A solo grocery run. Somehow. 

He checked his bag of holding and made sure the card for household expenses was in there. He had the lanyard with his Hero Tower Pass and Hero ID around his neck and was ready to go. Wreck was sitting on Nice to stop him from trying to go along anyway. 

…

Ling had to stop from reacting as he spotted the classmate he saved four years before. He was standing next to E-Soul at Mei-jie’s desk. He just walked on by and smiled to himself. Hopefully those two got their act together.

Shang Chao had always been a bit of a hopeless, pining, romantic.

…

Shang Chao did a double take. It couldn't have been? Could it? 

“Hey, was that who I think it was, A-Cheng?” He quietly asked his companion for all things.

Mei-jie answered first.

“That was, as of this morning the ranked 318 hero, Homemaker. He’s Nice’s personal assistant.” she informed them. “He is also living with Nice.” 

That was all Shang Chao and Yang Cheng needed to hear. They rushed outside, trying to catch up, but Lin Ling was nowhere to be seen.

…

It was a few hours later and Ling was wt a cafe getting a light lunch.

A vaguely familiar person entered and after ordering, waved at him. “Hi. I’m Bai Yuzhou. From around Hero Tower.” he said after sitting at the table next to Ling’s.

“Oh! I remember you. I’m Homemaker.” He remembered to use his hero name as his introduction.

“I know. I am surprised to see you alone. You normally have someone with you. It must be cool being the personal assistant to a top 20 hero.” Bai Yuzhou said with an easy grin.

“It is! So what do you do at the Tower?”

“I am general operations. I do just mundane officework.

The two chatted for a while before parting ways.

…

X smiled to himself. Lin ling was a truly interesting person.

…

As soon as Lin Ling entered the apartment he was being checked for anything wrong by Nice. He was fussing and fretting like crazy. 

“Calm down! Give the poor guy some space. He needs alone time, too.” Wreck pulled Nice away from the poor harassed man. 

“I was just worried!” Nice defended himself with a hiss.

“He’s fine, kitten” Wreck growled a little at the end.

Ling felt his face heat a bit. Shit. They were both unfairly attractive.

He rushed to the kitchen and started putting away the groceries. He waved the two away when they tried helping. He had a system. He’d already, with Nice’s permission, rearranged the kitchen to suit his needs. His arrangement had actually settled Nice’s OCD! 

The hero had been overjoyed at that. Honestly, his OCD hadn't been as bad lately. Much to the white haired man’s joy.

He was relieved that Nice was happier. An honest spark of life was back in his once dead eyes. They shone more than they had for a while now. It made his instincts as Homemaker purr in satisfaction. He was doing a good job taking care of his charges. 

Wreck seemed happy, too. Soon there would be a Thread connecting him to Homemaker as well. Three(!) whole permanent wards. The most he’d ever had was five. His parents and three classmates he’d spent the most time with. He placed a hand over the scar on his side. His parents had died the day after he’d been hurt. Car accident. The Threads connecting his classmates to him had snapped from not seeing them afterwards. He’d had to transfer to a cheaper college after. 

Losing all five connections in less than half a year had been so painful. That gad been the worst year of his life. He’d never fully recovered.

He wondered how Xia Qing was doing these days?

[greyskyflowers]

Bucky is very capable, and we know that, but I want to see more of him not being capable.

When he gets really hurt, freaked out over something because Bucky actually being terrified about Hydra getting their hands on him again is my favorite or sleep deprived or whatever.

He just can't quite get things to click right.

He knows he needs to eat and that he should eat in the kitchen, but he ends up under the kitchen table eating dry rice.

Usually staring blankly at the floor or wall and just shoving handfuls in his mouth because he needs to eat, right? Right... yes, that sounds right.

Or he gets on his bed, or on his little floor makeshift bed but he doesn't get under any blankets.

He always forgets that he can be under them. He has blankets now, multiple.

Or he gets in the shower but he keeps all his clothes on and then just sits in the water.

Because clean is good, and this is clean.

Like, it's close. So close... but just not quite right.

And when he's himself, rested and safe, and Bucky, it's easy to remember all that.

So no one worries about it too much because, honestly, the guy is still doing amazing for everything he's been through, and even normal people do weird stuff when they're tired or anxious or whatever.

So they just try to nudge him in the right direction. Kind of like you would a kid. Not so much questions or direct orders but somewhere around firm suggestions.

"Hey Bucky, how about I make you something to eat."

"I grabbed another blanket for you so you don't have to get up."

"Alright, I'm going to turn the water off now. I've got a towel for you."

And he isn't reverting back to the winter soldier. He's just in the odd place between then, there, and here.

So he doesn't react violently. He usually just looks at them with big eyes like he forget there's other people around and that they're talking to him.

He doesn't talk a lot during those times, works through it in his head like he would when he would when they first got him back, eyes darting back and forth like he's trying to flip through his memories for something, but he usually relents to them.

Hesitantly, cautiously, but he gives them the box. Or let's them cover him with blankets. Or help him out of the shower.

And it's other things when he's in that mindset of exhaustion, scared, anxious, etc that aren't quite as harmless.

When he's bleeding and he looks at it like he's startled the blood is coming from him.

Like he doesn't remember that he's a person, and people bleed.

Or when he grabs something too hot or cold and doesn't let go until they take it from him. Skin sticking to it, wet and bleeding.

He looks surprised at that too.

Or when he doesn't sleep, awakeawakeawake until he's stumbling into things and falling, and he doesn't usually talk when he's at that point, but sometimes he mumbles or starts talking in other languages. Usually sounding confused or anxious, scared.

They always manage to catch him when he finally goes down for the count. He had only hit the ground the first time because they weren't prepared, but he hasn't hit it since.

AJ and Cass make blanket forts around wherever Bucky decides to make himself small - under a desk or table, in the closet, etc.

He's not a threat to them like that, and they all know it.

He just watches them like he's not sure what they're doing or if they're real. One on either side of him as they bring in a laptop to watch a movie, and usually Sam ends up in there with them. Wrapped around Bucky because he's a tight ball of stress and careful gentle kind always helps him slowly relax until he's fallen asleep, body and mind exhausted.

And he wakes up with Bucky tucked under his chin, cold nose on his throat, and a hand clinging to his shirt.

The thunderbolts are great at adapting to the odd like it's completely normal. Sometimes, they're the only things around/left to hold each other together.

So climbing into a shower fully clothed to sit with another fully clothed individual in freezing/burning water isn't a big deal. They can always dry off later.

Always having quick and easy meals to give to which ever one of them is too exhausted to cook or is so in their head that they've forgot food is something they need or can't find the motivation to do anything that would keep them going another day isn't a big deal.

Always making sure spare blankets and hoodies are stashed around the building isn't a big deal.

Keeping tabs on each other and where they all got hit during whatever the latest fight was and following up isn't a big deal.

It's easy to want to take care of people who care for you. It's easy to want them to be safe and warm, to feel comfortable and full, loved and cared for.

And Bucky is somehow simultaneously kind of like a weird, distant, older brother who has his shit together and the worst adjusted out of all of them.

[dazaih]

wingman - luke skywalker x reader

you can find previous chapters here

chapter eleven -> the invitation

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: luke is drunk, weed, discussions of consent

a/n: sorry this took so long i’ve been finishing finals and i’m also in the process of moving!

You were stunned into silence. Han immediately dropped Luke’s keys, having been caught even more off guard than you had. When he bent over to pick the keys up, his cigarettes tumbled out of his breast pocket and onto the floor. He looked torn between whether or not he should pick them up, his eyes wide.

“Han?” Leia exclaimed, standing from her seat. She was in her pajamas, her wet hair braided down her shoulder.

“Um,” Han said, gracelessly gathering his cigarettes as Anakin Skywalker stared daggers into him from across the room, “Right. I’m not breaking and entering.”

That was probably the worst thing he could’ve said. You sighed, and Luke rolled his eyes, pushing past Han as he stumbled inside. Padme stood immediately and pulled him into a hug, Luke squirming a little in her surprisingly strong grip. Anakin stood too, but his skeptical gaze lingered on Han as he pulled his son into a sideways hug.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Luke asked, hiccuping a little.

“We wanted to come congratulate you on your nomination,” she explained, gesturing towards the counter, “Ben made you a cake.”

Luke’s eyes lit up immediately, and he pulled away from his parents to make his way to the counter. He clumsily grabbed a cake slicer from a kitchen drawer and cut into the treat, taking a rather sizable slice and plopping it onto a plate. He moved impressively quickly for someone as drunk as he was, and he was shoving a fork full of cake into his mouth in no time. He sighed happily, meeting your gaze as he did so, and had the audacity to wink at you. You tried not to react, given the presence of his parents, and you wanted to scold him.

“That man is a fucking wizard in the kitchen,” Luke announced, his mouth full of food, “And I haven’t won the award. It’s just a nomination.”

“You’re going to win,” Anakin said then, finally taking his eyes off of your roommate. Han visibly relaxed.

“Don’t say that,” Luke replied, frowning, “I might not. There’s a guy from the East Coast who has crazy stats right now. Even if we beat them in nationals, he’s gonna give me trouble.”

“That’s why we’re celebrating now,” Padme explained softly, “Even if you don’t win, we’re still proud of you. Being nominated is a huge deal, sweetie.”

“But then everyone’s gonna be disappointed if I lose,” he mumbled, taking another bite of his cake.

“Why are you here?” Leia asked, suddenly toe to toe with Han, “You smell horrible, by the way. Like cigarettes.”

“So I’ve been told,” he grumbled, not about to test Anakin’s patience when it came to being hateful to the man’s daughter.

“I was kidnapped,” Luke explained, and Anakin’s eyes immediately fell on your roommate again. You could’ve sworn Han was starting to break a sweat.

“That’s such a horrible description of what happened,” Han griped, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his composure.

“Biggs told us that Luke was reaching the point where you’d normally intervene and drag him home,” you told Leia, trying to diffuse the tension in the room, “So Han dragged him home.”

“And it was completely unnecessary,” Luke added, chewing his cake and nodding in agreement with himself, “I was gonna leave anyway.”

“Sure you were, kid. Three different people were hangin’ off of you when I reached you, and a fourth was pouring gin into your mouth,” Han managed to say, having calmed down a little as the focus shifted to Luke’s inebriation.

“Must’ve been getting pretty wild for Biggs to intervene,” Leia mused, and you thought you saw the semblance of a smile tugging at her lips as she stared at Han.

“I didn’t even wanna be there,” Luke huffed, grabbing a gallon of milk from the fridge and a glass, “So I would’ve left at some point.”

“Yeah? After how many more drinks?” Han snorted, his usual personality seeping through as he rolled his eyes, so caught up in defending himself that he seemed to be forgetting that the Skywalker parents were in the room, “I already told you that Her Royal Highness would beat my ass if I let your shit-brained friends drag you to that Marie girl’s house, and you don’t ever stand up for yourself.”

“How would you know?” Luke asked, suddenly grinning, “Unless Leia told you. Because you’re hanging out! And you’re in love!”

“What?” Anakin snapped, glaring at your roommate again.

Han nearly fell to his knees, his mouth hanging wide open as his face turned beet red. He floundered for a moment, but could find nothing at all to say, so he just stood, dumbfounded.

“You are fucked up,” Leia sighed, though she was blushing a little, “Thanks for bringing him home.”

“No problem,” you replied, reaching for Han’s hand as you moved to lead him out the door, “Well, we don’t wanna intrude, so we’ll be leaving now. Nice meeting you both in person.”

“What?” Luke pouted, looking at you with sad blue eyes that he was certainly exaggerating in an effort to get what he wanted, “But you just got here. Stay for a little while. We can order food, and I’ll pay as a thanks for getting me home safe and sound, okay?”

“Yeah,” Anakin agreed, voice low as he continued assessing Han, “You should stay. We’ll pay.”

Your mission to get Han out of there had failed, and you had to admit that you were also a little unsure of how to interact with celebrities who also happened to be the parents of the man you were falling in love with. And said man was known to deliberately try to embarrass you by flirting with you in public. And he was drunker than you’d ever seen him. And Han was being absolutely useless in helping you make this less of an awkward situation.

“We really don’t wanna be in the way. You guys came all the way out here to spend time with your kids,” you tried again, but you knew you’d been defeated when Padme spoke.

“Nonsense,” she said sweetly, waving her hand dismissively, “We’d love to treat you to dinner. Especially after all you kids have been through this semester.”

Han’s face paled.

“They know about that?” he whispered to you, and you nodded.

“I told you. FaceTime.”

“Fuck.”

“Isn’t that good news, Leia?” Luke teased, leaning over the counter to taunt his sister. Clearly agitated, she walked around the island, angrily filled his glass with water, put the milk back in the fridge, and grabbed his wrist.

“Luke’s going to take a shower,” she said calmly to all of you, “And he’s going to drink this water. And he’s going to sober up. And he’s going to calm the fuck down and stop being a pain in the ass to everyone here.”

With that, she dragged him down the hallway. He just smiled as she did so and went willingly, giving you a flirtatious wave as he left. You could hear them bicker between themselves in the hallway as she shoved clean clothes in his hands and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Is he usually like this?” Padme asked, sounding concerned but looking thoroughly entertained.

“No,” you answered shyly, “A ton of people were buying him drinks. He’s normally not this far gone.”

“I was worried,” she admitted, relaxing a little, “I just wanted to make sure you guys weren’t regularly having to take care of him.”

“We don’t,” you replied, nervous under her gaze despite how kind she was being.

“Seems like Leia does,” Anakin mused, looking down the hallway as his daughter returned.

“You’ve spoiled him,” she said, pointing at you. Your eyes widened.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” she teased, pouring you a glass of water, “He thinks he can get away with being annoying when you’re here because you’ll stick up for him. Like you did the other day on the couch.”

“I only said something then because Han was being annoying,” you protested, hands on your hips.

“Shut up,” Han hissed, his face still red. Padme smiled at the interaction, but Anakin’s face was impossible to read. Han was definitely sweating.

His situation didn’t improve when Leia stood in front of him again, pushing a glass of water into his hand. He stared down at her like she was from another world, his eyes wide and posture uncharacteristically tense.

“You alright?” you heard her ask him quietly. His expression softened a little, but he still remained tightly wound.

“Wasn’t expecting your celebrity parents to be here. That’s all,” he mumbled. She touched his arm lightly, likely meant to be reassuring, but you saw him blush a little.

“Don’t worry about that,” she whispered, “You don’t care what anyone else thinks anyway, right? This isn’t any different. They’re just regular people.”

“It’s not the celebrity part,” he murmured, looking away from her, “It’s that they’re your parents.”

Her eyes widened a little and her cheeks reddened.

“Well, that’s stupid,” she said quietly, staring at her feet.

How much longer would they keep up with this until they finally started dating?

Padme called your name then, and beckoned you over. She asked you a few questions about your wrist, how you were doing, and some other general small talk.

“Is she seeing him?” Anakin asked you suddenly, still watching Han like a hawk.

“Um, not yet, but they definitely like each other. He’s my roommate,” you explained, not knowing what else to say other than the truth.

“Oh,” Anakin said, “He’s the one who was in the hospital, right?”

“That’s him,” you murmured.

“Is his ear pierced?”

“Ani,” Padme interjected, placing a hand on his knee, “Don’t interrogate his poor roommate. He brought Luke home. And Leia can hold her own. See? She seems to be the one calling the shots.”

You turned to see Han still tense as Leia casually touched his arm, his wide eyes darting to yours with a look of desperation. He avoided Anakin’s stare quite deliberately, which made the older man chuckle.

“Good,” Anakin said, somewhat satisfied by Han’s anxieties, “And who’s Marie? Is that Luke’s girlfriend?”

“Ani,” Padme chided again, “I’m sorry. He’s a little protective of the kids. Marie’s the cheerleader, honey. We’ve seen her before at his games.”

You didn’t remember that Marie was a cheerleader, but you supposed that made sense. Padme knowing who she was did sting a little though.

“I don’t know who that is,” Anakin scoffed, and you felt kind of vindicated by that, “But she better not be anything like his other girlfriends.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, your curiosity reaching its limits, but Luke stepped back into the room before you could. His hair was damp and he wore long pajama pants, fuzzy blue socks on his feet.

“Do you feel any better?” Padme asked, motioning for him to come over while Han and Leia talked.

“I feel clean,” he replied happily, “But I still couldn’t drive a car.”

“We weren’t gonna make you drive anywhere,” you told him, and he smiled widely at your presence.

“I was worried you guys would sneak out while I was showering,” he confessed, cheeks rosy from his alcohol consumption.

“Leia has Han trapped,” you explained, pointing to the couple standing next to the island, “And your parents were asking me about him.”

“Not your parents,” Padme chimed in, rolling her eyes, “Your father.”

“Am I crazy to ask if the guy with cigarettes pouring out of his pockets has a good head on his shoulders?” he argued, slightly exasperated.

“What? I love Han,” Luke said defensively, smiling, “He’s so cool. And he doesn’t care what other people think of him. I wish I could be more like that.”

The admission made your heart clench, and you wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that he didn’t need to change.

“Not in an asshole way,” you added nervously, “He means well. He’s just a little unconventional.”

Anakin’s eyebrow was raised, but he said nothing else about Han.

“I’m sure he’s a nice boy,” Padme told Anakin, giving you a reassuring smile, “And what about you, Luke?”

“I’m nice too,” he answered, nodding.

You giggled, hiding your smile behind your hand. Anakin rolled his eyes.

“No, honey. I’m asking if you’re seeing anyone right now.”

“Oh!” he replied, eyes darting between you and his mother, “Um. Sort of?”

“Yes,” you heard Leia yell from the kitchen, “Your turn in the hot seat, Luke.”

“Is it the cheerleader?” she asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Who?”

Luke not immediately knowing who she was talking about made you feel relieved.

“Marie,” she said, “Han mentioned that you were invited to Marie’s house. Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” Luke answered quickly, brows furrowed in bewilderment, “Absolutely not. My friends want me to date her, but I’m not going to. Ever.”

“Is she that bad?” Anakin snorted, failing to hide his amusement.

“Yes,” Leia said, walking towards the living room to join you all, Han reluctantly in tow.

“She’s a nice girl,” Luke sighed, looking conflicted, “But she’s persistent.”

“She’s obsessive,” Leia corrected, hands on her hips, “Dad, she’s one of those people.”

“I see,” Anakin replied, “Tell her to fuck off then, Luke.”

“Anakin,” Padme groaned, “Don’t be rude in front of their guests.”

“What do you mean by those people?” Luke asked, narrowing his eyes at his sister.

“People take advantage of your kindness, Luke. Dad and I talk about it all the time. You should be mean. Like me.”

Han snorted and Anakin regarded him with something other than contempt for once. You tried not to laugh.

“You’re not mean, Leia,” Luke argued, “You just don’t take shit from anyone. You’re like Han.”

“No, Han’s mean,” she said dismissively.

“Hey.”

“I’m just saying,” she replied, slapping Han on the shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be light, but he hissed in pain anyway.

“Leia, be nice to him,” Padme chided.

“You don’t have to be nice to him, Leia,” Anakin deadpanned

“Okay!” Luke interrupted, “Can we order food or not?”

Anakin and Leia relented and finally the conversation shifted to what you all would get to eat. With the Skywalkers all arguing over their dinner options, Han had begun hiding behind you again, trying to keep himself out of Anakin’s line of sight. You had never seen him act so skittish before.

Luke convinced everyone to order Chinese food, and Han volunteered to pick it up, far too eager to flee from the house and catch his breath away from the Skywalkers for a bit. You offered to go with him (which Luke protested) in order to give the family some time to themselves. The two of you practically sprinted out the door, not fully relaxing until you had taken the elevator and fled the lobby. Finally, when your shoes hit the sidewalk, you felt like you could breathe again.

He pulled out a cigarette in record time, lighting it quickly as he began walking into the city.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” he huffed, the cigarette hanging from his lips serving to muffle his voice a little, “I can barely handle two Skywalkers. I can’t do four.”

“Padme is nice,” you replied, shrugging.

“No, she’s got Luke’s shit-eating grin. Seems nice at first but she’s up to something. That whole family is nuts.”

Neither of you bothered to acknowledge what had really rattled you about seeing them all together: that they were a complete, functional, and happy family. Han never mentioned his parents, but you knew that he’d moved out before he even turned 18 and had turned to transporting drugs as a result of having no support from his relatives. Your own parents were pretty disinterested in your life, and hearing that Luke’s parents, who were incredibly busy and working all over the country, had made time to congratulate him for a nomination made your heart ache. You were happy for him, but you just weren’t familiar with the kind of dynamics that were at play in their apartment right now.

You and Han didn’t have to say any of this out loud, because both of you already knew. He passed his cigarette to you and, uncharacteristically, you took a drag. Meeting the Skywalkers was a special occasion, you supposed.

“They cuss in front of their parents,” he said as you neared your destination, “And I think the dad is gonna kill me.”

“They seem to have a pretty relaxed relationship with them, yes,” you agreed, giggling quietly, “I think he’s just under the impression that you’re trying to seduce his daughter.”

“Why does everyone keep sayin’ that?” he groaned, pushing the door to the restaurant open and holding it for you, “It’s the other way around, actually.”

“She’s trying to seduce you?” you asked, surprised by his willingness to talk about his situation with Leia. Perhaps it was a combination of the stress and whiskey, but he seemed a little more open to discussing it at the moment.

“Yeah, I dunno,” he mumbled, sounding a bit distant, “I mean, I can’t tell. She acts like she might be interested every now and then, but she still argues with me all the time, and I’m pretty sure she’s got a thing with that guitarist.”

“Luke thinks she likes you,” you said suddenly, not wanting him to feel insecure and talk himself out of his progressing relationship, “I think so too.”

“Luke thinks that?” he asked, eyes wide. You couldn’t immediately respond, as you were giving the cashier your order number. You stood next to the counter as you waited for them to finish preparing your food.

“Han,” you sighed, crossing your arms, “The night we watched The Shining. Luke pulled me outside to tell me that he thinks Leia likes you.”

Han blinked, and you momentarily wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

“Don’t fuck with me,” he finally said, looking a little uneasy.

“I wouldn’t lie about that.”

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably as he looked at his feet.

“If that’s true,” he began quietly, “Then she’ll get over it. I’m not exactly her type, y’know. She just wants to rebel against the social pressures of being a young woman in a powerful family. That’s all it is.”

“I told you to stop making assumptions about how she feels. It’s not fair to either of you.”

“What about you and Luke, then?”

“That’s different.”

“How? ‘Cause only one of them left our house covered in hickeys, and it wasn’t Leia.”

You couldn’t tell him about your plot to get the two of them together now, especially without consulting Luke first, so you had no choice but to bite your tongue.

They finally called your order, and you and Han split the bags as you walked back out towards their apartment again.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, staring at you as you pursed your lips together to stop yourself from lashing out at him, “Get your shit together before worrying about mine, alright kid?”

His words were harsh but his tone was soft, and taking his stunt with Lando earlier into account, you knew that he just wanted you to be happy. You sighed, and you sulked a little until you got back to their apartment. Even when you opened the door, you and Han probably seemed a little out of it, both of you emotionally exhausted by the night’s activities.

Luke appeared at the door as soon as you opened it, taking the bag from your hand and urging you to sit down while he fixed you a plate. You were in no position to argue, your stomach growling.

You had never been to a family dinner before. When you and Han took your seats at the dining room table, you were reminded of this fact.

You were surprised by how smoothly things were going as they did their best to include you in all of their conversations.

“So,” Anakin began, staring at you and Han, “You guys just met this semester, right?”

“Um, yeah,” you replied awkwardly, looking to Han for help, “Han and Leia got assigned to work on a project together, and we all kind of got along pretty well, so. Yeah.”

“They bought us pizza,” Luke added, smiling, “They have a third roommate, too. He’s really nice. You guys would like him a lot.”

“He’ll have to join us next time,” Padme said offhandedly, smiling.

Next time. What was next time? Why would there be a next time? Because they approved of Han and Leia’s blossoming relationship, and assumed that you’d be around by extension? Because they thought you were all just platonic friends?

“Well, I don’t think they were planning on hanging around, or else I would’ve made them drag him along.“

“Speaking of next time,” Padme continued, as if she had read your mind, “The semester is picking up, and Luke’s soccer season will be coming to an end soon. We wanted to do something special to celebrate.”

“We don’t need to,” Luke protested weakly, blushing. He was adorable.

“Of course we do,” Anakin scoffed, adding, “We’re already planning to go to the beach when Leia finishes her term as president, but that’s not until next semester.”

“Finishing a term isn’t an accomplishment,” Leia said, joining in on trying to remain humble.

“It’s what you’ve accomplished in that term that’s impressive,” Padme said, reaching forward and smoothing down some of the flyaways framing Leia’s face, “But anyway, we were wanting to stay with some family friends at our vacation home for your winter break. Ani will be taking a break from his press, and elections will have already taken place, so it seems like a pretty good time to go.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied politely, nodding as she spoke.

“Do you wanna come?” Luke asked in between bites.

You nearly choked, and Han actually did. Swallowing, you collected yourself.

“We talked about it while you guys were gone,” Leia said quietly, not meeting your eyes, “We’ve never invited anyone from school before. So.”

“We wouldn’t want to intrude—“

“You wouldn’t be!” Luke exclaimed, smiling brightly and still more than a little tipsy, “I mean, there’s no pressure. Sorry. I just really want you to come.”

You face flushed, and Han gave you a smug look.

“Han is invited too, of course,” Anakin added, eyeing your roommate. Han’s face immediately fell.

“And your other roommate,” Padme said sweetly.

“Yes! Bring Chewie,” Luke cheered.

“Like he said, there’s no pressure. But we’d really love to have you,” Leia said, smiling at you but avoiding Han’s gaze entirely.

“You can send us the dates and we’ll double check our schedules. We can check with Chewie too,” you decided to say, kicking Han’s foot under the table when he remained silent.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he agreed awkwardly, “We’ll check. Thanks for the invite.”

You relaxed a little when he managed to have decent manners, happy that, for now, Anakin wouldn’t jump across the table and murder him where he sat.

“Of course,” Padme smiled, “We were super excited when the kids suggested it. Like Leia said, they’ve never asked to invite any of their friends before. We’d love to have you.”

“You could meet Ben,” Luke added, smiling widely at you, “And Ahsoka. Dad, do you think Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru would—“

“Luke,” Leia cut him off, eyes wide.

“What? I bet the Organas are invited. Why is this different?”

A combative edge had reached his voice, and the atmosphere suddenly felt uncomfortably tense.

“We can talk about it later, sweetie,” Padme said, giving him a sympathetic smile. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m sure we will,” he replied, tone dripping in sarcasm.

“Luke,” Anakin said lowly, fixing him with a harsh glare, “Don’t have an attitude with your mother.”

You would be more offended on Luke’s behalf if it weren’t for the way that Anakin placed his hand on his wife’s knee under the table, giving her a small, reassuring smile. It was sweet.

“Sorry,” Luke murmured, and you watched his demeanor shift completely. You tried to catch his eye throughout the remainder of dinner as everyone else resumed talking as normal, but he kept his stare fixed on his plate. He pushed a few grains of rice around solemnly, and you frowned.

“Hey,” you said, nudging his foot under the table with yours. He looked up finally, his eyes sad.

“Hi,” he replied anyway, trying to offer you a smile.

“Is it time for dessert yet?” you asked, pretending to be more excited than you were. His eyes immediately lit up.

“Yes,” he said, his voice already a little lighter than before, “You have to try this cake. Ben’s an excellent baker.”

He stood then and gestured for you to follow him to the counter. You obeyed, though you felt a little awkward to suddenly rise from the table, but no one seemed to mind all that much. He lifted the Tupperware lid and presented you with a cake that was clearly homemade, but still pristine in its appearance. He grabbed two small plates from the cabinet then, and cut you a slice. You slowly cut into it with your fork and took a small bite, only for your eyes to widen at the delightful flavor flooding your senses. The cake practically melted on your tongue, and you immediately went back in for a second bite.

“Do you like it?” he asked hopefully.

“This is divine,” you said seriously, taking another bite, “You’ll have to tell this Ben guy that he’s unnaturally good at this. Holy shit.”

That was apparently the correct response, because Luke was practically beaming at you now. Padme made eye contact with you from across the kitchen, offering you a grateful smile. You blushed and avoided her gaze.

“You have good taste,” Luke said, staring at you with something akin to fondness, “Do you wanna stay the night?”

The abruptness of his offer caught you off guard, and you blinked at him for a second before managing to respond.

“Luke, you drank a lot tonight,” you told him softly, “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”

“You’re sweet,” he replied, smiling at you and making you blush, “But I wasn’t trying to get in your pants. I’m just saying that it’s late, and I’ve missed you, and I’d really love to spend more time with you tonight. I’ll even sleep on the couch—“

“I’m not making you do that,” you protested, “I’m not sure if we’ll spend the night, but we can at least stay for a while after your parents leave.”

He beamed at you again. After you tried to cheer him up a little more, he seemed to be in better spirits, and he carried the cake over to the table to share with everyone else. You all continued to talk amongst yourselves for a while longer, with Anakin occasionally trying to assess Han’s character and Padme hiding her smile behind her hand.

Overall, dinner was pleasant. You still felt awkward, sitting at a table with the boy you were infatuated with and his two celebrity parents, but they really did seem to be nice people. Finally, at about one in the morning, Padme announced that they should be heading out. To your surprise, she stood to hug you.

“It’s been so great meeting you in person,” she said, her embrace much tighter than you had anticipated. Anakin looked on fondly.

“Likewise,” you replied, “Thank you guys for dinner.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she assured you, and, to your further bewilderment, pulled Han into a hug.

Luke didn’t bother to stop himself from laughing at the other man, and even you had to admit that it was an amusing scene. Han awkwardly returned her embrace, patting her on the back uncomfortably. Anakin looked on with that same scrutinizing gaze, trying to gauge how Han would react. To his credit, your roommate was respectful enough to at least pretend to appreciate the gesture.

The two of you stood to the side as the Skywalkers doted on their children for a moment, Padme pressing kisses to both of their heads and Anakin affectionately messing up their hair.

“We love you,” Padme told them, “And we’ll be coming back in for your big game, Luke.”

“Keep a low profile,” he sighed, suddenly looking very tired, “The last time you guys came, I had to watch my classmates try to flirt with my dad. That’s not something anyone wants to see.”

“That’s not my fault,” Anakin argued, his tone sounding so similar to his son’s that you nearly laughed, “You should just play so well that they have no reason to pay attention to me.”

Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say that, Ani,” Padme scolded lightheartedly, “You might stress him out. We love you no matter how well you play, honey.”

“I always play well,” Luke huffed, crossing his arms.

Leia and Anakin looked at each other, and their faces made you think that they were about to bring up a situation that proved the contrary. Luke caught on to that too, and he was then inspired to usher his parents towards the door. Anakin laughed at his efforts.

“I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends,” he promised, grinning as he put on his coat.

“I will,” Leia teased, raising an eyebrow at her brother before turning to you, “Luke used to buy his uniform in the smallest size possible so he could show off, and this one time, during a game in his senior year of high school—“

“Mom,” Luke pleaded, cutting her off, “She only gets like this when he’s around. Separate them and save my reputation, please.”

Padme giggled and opened the door, gently pushing her husband outside and taking his arm.

“Behave,” Anakin said as he waved them goodbye, smiling as his wife leaned into his side a little.

“And get some sleep!” she added, “We love you.”

Despite their previous banter, the twins told their parents that they loved them too, and with that, the door closed.

Han visibly relaxed, letting out a loud sigh of relief as he slumped against the wall. Luke giggled at this, and Han noticed, eyes narrowing at the younger man.

“What?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to be so intimidated by him,” he quipped, grinning.

“Funny. And I didn’t expect you to be a mama’s boy, but here we are.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” he countered.

Han just scoffed, apparently not in the mood to actually challenge Luke on this, and just pulled a cigarette from his pocket, shrugging his jacket back on.

“Well, thanks for feedin’ us. We’ll get out of your hair now,” he said, ready to bolt out the door. You were ready to follow him—that is, until a still tipsy Luke fixed you with a stare so pitiful that you felt overwhelmed with guilt.

“You said you’d stay,” he all but pouted, looking at you with sad eyes.

You crumbled immediately, walking towards him and leaving Han standing in the doorway.

“Are you serious? All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at you and you’ll bend to his every whim?” he exclaimed, looking betrayed.

“That’s an overly dramatic reaction,” Leia snorted, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “We can split a joint if you stay. Maybe Luke will fall asleep long enough to let you all escape.”

Han contemplated this idea before begrudgingly shedding his jacket once more, stuffing his cigarette back in his pocket as he did so.

“Tryin’ to bribe me, sweetheart?”

She rolled her eyes and walked into the living room, Han trailing behind her as she headed towards the balcony. Surprisingly, Luke—and, by extension, you—followed them out. Han quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve never seen you smoke,” he said, and it almost sounded like a challenge. Leia already looked unimpressed, lighting the joint and taking the first hit.

“Because I get drug tested for soccer,” he replied, looking annoyed that Han had forgotten this information.

Leia passed the joint to Han, the man looking at Luke with an expression that was somewhere between smug and mocking.

“College sports take themselves too seriously. Nobody actually cares what the athletes do in their free time. They only care if you win.”

Luke stared for a moment, seemingly conflicted. He appeared to know that Han was baiting him, but at the same time, he wasn’t immune to it. Wordlessly, almost scowling, Luke snatched the joint out of Han’s hand, his expression defiant and his brow set in determination. Luke and Han were shaping up to be quite the pair. Han was a bad influence, and Luke was spiteful. You’d have to be careful about leaving the two of them alone for too long.

“I hope you’re ready to deal with the consequences of what you just did,” Leia mumbled, rolling her eyes when Luke took a hit of the joint.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Han asked, arms crossed. He made no effort to conceal his smirk at Luke’s subsequent coughing.

“Luke smokes once or twice a year. And he’s already drunk. He’ll probably fall asleep before we’re finished and you’ll have to carry him back inside.”

“I won’t fall asleep!” Luke protested through his coughing. His lungs were healthy, unlike Han’s, and he struggled to inhale the smoke. You shouldn’t have found it endearing, but you did.

“I’ll leave you out here if you do,” Han said hatefully, blowing smoke in the younger man’s face. Luke scrunched up his nose and scowled.

The four of you talked amongst yourselves for about twenty minutes before you noticed Luke falling silent, depending a little too heavily on the balcony railing to keep him upright. His lengthy day seemed to finally be catching up with him.

“Hey,” you got his attention, placing an arm on his shoulder to stabilize him a little, “Do you wanna go to bed?”

“I can stay awake,” he insisted, but his droopy eyelids and slumped shoulders indicated the opposite.

“You’ve had a long day. You should get some rest,” you assured him softly, rubbing his back. He melted into your touch.

“He’s trying to stay awake so he can spend time with you,” Leia teased, earning a snort from Han.

The idea that he was fighting sleep for the purpose of seeing you was endearing, sure, but you didn’t think there was any truth to it. You chuckled quietly to yourself, turning to face Luke as if to say, “Isn’t that ridiculous?” but you wee surprised to find him looking down, his blush visible to you even in the dim lighting on the balcony.

“Leia,” he practically pouted, brows knitted together.

“Don’t give me that. Serves you right for that shit you pulled in front of mom and dad earlier.”

She was likely referring to the comment he made about her being in love with Han.

“I was kidding. And I was drunk,” he murmured, a weak attempt to defend himself.

“Daddy dearest didn’t seem to think you were kidding,” Han huffed, staring out at the cityscape as he exhaled smoke.

“Well, it wasn’t personal. He was just on edge because Leia doesn’t talk to many men—“

“Luke,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What?” he replied, genuinely confused by her scowl. You giggled, and Luke leaned into your touch a bit more.

“Figured it was probably because I spilled cigarettes all over your floor within the first five seconds of meeting him,” Han grunted. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the implication that he and Leia were dating, but instead of addressing it, he simply redirected the conversation.

“Well, that probably didn’t help,” Luke agreed sleepily, nodding in earnest. Throughout the entire interaction, he had somehow managed to sneak his way into your arms, and you may as well have been holding him at this point. Your heart melted at how hard he was trying to stay awake.

“You should go to sleep, Luke,” you told him seriously, brushing his bangs from his forehead in a move that only served to make him close his eyes once more.

“Wanna see you,” he argued weakly, leaning into your touch, “Never get to see you. I can sleep later.”

You couldn’t take much more of this.

“I can stay the night,” you offered, relenting easily.

“What the fuck?” Han squawked, throwing his hands up, “I know it’s common sense at this point, but I can’t get over how you immediately agree to do whatever he wants. You need to get a backbone, sweetheart.”

Luke opened his eyes a little, blinking as he tried to feign alertness.

“You really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, voice small as he blushed a little, “I don’t wanna force you to—“

“No,” you cut him off, caressing his cheek as you looked over his shoulder to glare at your roommate, “Han’s just being a dick. Don’t worry.”

“We told Chewie and Lando we’d smoke with them later,” he reminded you.

“You told them you’d smoke with them later. And it’s been hours since then.”

“Yeah, well, a pretty face isn’t gonna make me change my plans,” he snapped, passing the joint to Leia before pointedly walking inside to presumably call Chewie.

Luke watched him go through tired eyes, still blushing.

“I don’t wanna be a problem,” he told you, sounding a little sad.

“You’re never a problem. I wanna spend time with you, too,” you confessed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, “And Han’s just trying to make a point.”

“What’s his point, then?” Leia asked, brow raised as she took another drag.

You hesitated for a second, but with both twins staring at you curiously, you knew you wouldn’t be able to refrain from answering.

“That I’m more whipped for Luke than he is for you,” you muttered, avoiding their eyes. She snorted, but you knew she was likely blushing. Luke only giggled, the least embarrassed out of any of you.

“Aw,” he cooed, reminding you that he was high, “I’m definitely way more whipped for you, though. And Leia—“

“You’re pushing it tonight, Luke,” she warned, pointing at him with the joint in her fingers, “Take another hit of this so you’ll shut the fuck up.”

“Okay,” he agreed happily, leaning out of your grip a little to grab it before turning to you, adding, “Do you want any? Hey, you can take a hit first and then blow it into my mouth, and—“

Leia made a gagging sound behind you, and you quickly covered his mouth with your hand. You felt him smile against it.

“I already told you,” you reminded him gently, trying to ignore your own embarrassment, “We aren’t doing anything like that tonight. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? I thought you just meant fucking,” he replied, sounding genuinely surprised, “And I haven’t had anything to drink in hours. I’m sober.”

“You’ve been smoking now. You’re crossed.”

“It’s just kissing. We made out earlier—“

“Alright, I’m going inside,” Leia said. He ignored her.

“If you don’t want to do anything, that’s perfectly fine, but if it’s just because I’m inebriated—“

“It’s just because you’re inebriated,” you told him, kissing his forehead again. He looked appalled.

“But you walked me home. I crashed your plans tonight. The least I can do is—“

“Absolutely not. It’s not transactional. Ever.”

He stared at you for a second, blinking at you as you absentmindedly played with his hair. Finally, he gave you a soft smile, and he looked at you like you’d just hung the stars in the sky.

“Okay,” he agreed, surprising you by pulling you into a hug, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply that you saw it that way. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed if we didn’t do anything tonight—“

“I’m not disappointed. I’m just glad I get to see you. Let’s go to bed,” you told him, petting his hair as he hugged you. He pulled away then, smiling tiredly at you, and nodded.

“Wait. I need to clean my room first. It won’t take long,” he decided, and then he quickly ran back into the apartment. You chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched him go.

You followed, only to see Leia sitting on a bar stool and Han leaning against the counter, the two of them looking at you with an air of smugness.

“What’d Chewie say?” you asked, trying to shake their stares.

“That they started smokin’ as soon as we left. Never expected us to come back, apparently,” he grumbled, his cheeks a little pink as he recounted the conversation.

Leia hid a smile behind her hand before turning to you.

“Thanks for being decent,” she said seriously, piquing Han’s interest.

“This one? Decent?” he scoffed, planting a large hand on your head before messing up your hair. You slapped him away.

“Yes. More decent than you.”

“Can’t believe you agreed to stay the night,” he huffed, likely only pretending to be disappointed.

“You’re free to leave.”

“And leave you alone with him?” he asked, as if he really was your mother. You had to stifle a giggle.

“Yes. I’m grown, Han. And it’s Luke. And Leia is here.”

“What if you need me?” he challenged.

Han was protective, sure, but he definitely trusted Luke, at least to some extent.

“Again, I’m grown.”

Luke came trodding out of his room, looking a little disheveled.

“Leia, can you come look at it? I can’t tell if it’s clean enough,” he pleaded. He was definitely high, you realized.

“I don’t think anyone cares if your room is messy—“ she tried, but his wide eyes made her simply sigh in defeat as she walked down the hallway, “I’ll be back.”

With both twins gone, Han placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled you to the side. He looked stressed.

“What?” you asked, his demeanor making you nervous.

“We are not going on a fucking Skywalker family vacation,” he said seriously, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“It’ll probably be free.”

“We’re not going,” he repeated.

“Isn’t it kinda crazy that they want us to go though? And they’ve apparently never invited anyone from school before.”

“It’s because that kid is smitten with you,” he grunted, like it was inconvenient.

“Or it’s because Leia—“

“Don’t,” he snapped, pointing a finger in your face, “Don’t go around spewing bullshit like that. Luke’s already said enough tonight. Now her ex-military celebrity dad wants to kill me. Do you know how stressful this is for me?”

“It’s stressful for me too.”

“No,” he insisted, “They liked you. You’re a saint against the backdrop of whatever shitty partners he’s had before. I’m the guy who walked in reeking of pot and Marlboro Reds.”

“I thought you switched over to Golds?”

“I switched back,” he mumbled, and then shook his head, “That doesn’t matter—“

“I thought you were switching to Golds and only smoking three days a week.”

“Quit. You’re trying to change the subject.”

“You’ll need to stop smoking if we go on vacation with the Skywalkers—“

“We’re not doing that,” he hissed, scowling at you when he saw that you were grinning.

“Not doing what?”

You turned to see Luke standing in the kitchen again, head cocked at you as Leia approached behind him.

“Nothing. Han’s just being a dick,” you explained, smacking his finger away from your face. He glared at you.

“Han just doesn’t understand how this turned into a conversation about his smoking habits,” he sneered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh,” Luke hummed, seeming to think this over for a moment before replying, “Yeah, that’s pretty bad for you. Especially as much as you do it—“

“What the fuck?” he sighed. In a move that surprised you, Leia walked right up to him and slapped his shoulder. She was doing that a lot more recently.

“Come on. We can finish this joint,” she offered. He looked at her with something akin to fondness in his eyes, but he recovered quickly and plastered another frown on his face.

“Fine,” he murmured, and with that he and Leia walked back into the balcony, leaving you and Luke alone in the kitchen.

“Wanna sleep?” he asked, trying to keep his eyes open as he stared at you in his pajamas, “You can wear some of my clothes to bed, if you want. And I’ll stay in my side of the bed. It’s pretty big, so we don’t have to touch each other at all.”

You giggled, happy that he’d honored your request to stay friendly tonight. And you’d gladly wear his clothes to bed. You nodded, smiling at him as he led you into his room. He threw a shirt and a pair of pajama pants at you, and then covered his eyes with his hands. You giggled, changing quickly.

You briefly reflected on when you’d worn Leia’s pajamas the last time you were here. She’d given you an oversized, matching silk set before you had even realized that you’d needed something to sleep in. And she’d set the spare bedroom up for you.

Despite what Han said, she was a really nice girl. If they ever got over themselves, she’d be really good for him.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

You’d been so lost in thought that you had neglected to tell Luke that you were dressed. Again, you realized that he had apparently taken you very seriously when you said nothing sexual could happen between the two of you, his palms pressed probably a bit too harshly over his eyes. Cute.

“Yes,” you replied, trying not to laugh. When he removed his hands, he blinked for a moment, eyes readjusting as he stared at you in his clothes.

“You should wear my clothes more often,” he said seriously, eyes sparkling as he looked you over. You laughed and shook your head, crawling under the covers. His bedside lamp remained on, and he got into bed after you.

You took this time to take in his bedroom. It was larger than yours, but wasn’t as excessive as you’d expected. You were perhaps most surprised by the enormous shelf pressed against his wall, lined with books and knickknacks. His desk matched, a large, open textbook and several sheets of graph paper sitting on top of it. Next to them was one of those tiny Zen gardens that your high school guidance counselor used to have in her office. You smiled. It was so him.

He had a small stand in the corner that appeared to house his awards, though the bookshelf was still the most outstanding and put-together piece in the entire room. You made note of that, your eyes lingering on his array of model spaceships and Legos. A tall plant sat near the window, and a few smaller succulents were occupying random spaces in the rest of the room.

If you had to guess who this room belonged to, your money would go on a librarian or an incredibly introverted student—not one of the best collegiate athletes in the country.

“Stop judging my room,” he said, nudging you in the side.

“I’m not judging it,” you replied, smiling softly at him, “Just admiring.”

“Admiring,” he repeated, eyebrow raised.

“It’s cute!” you promised, and a faint blush decorated his cheeks.

“Whatever,” he grumbled sheepishly, eyes trailing over your frame before sighing and rolling over on his side, “You really do look good in my clothes.”

It was your turn to blush.

“Thanks for letting me borrow them,” you replied, unsure of how else to respond.

“Keep them,” he mumbled, voice muffled by his pillow, “I might lend you some more tomorrow.”

You laughed, mostly out of surprise, and relaxed further into the covers.

“Goodnight, Luke. Wake me up if you need me, okay?” you said softly, the mention of the inevitable nightmares to come left unspoken.

You knew he understood your meaning when a few seconds of silence followed.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Nothing else needed to be said. You hoped he knew how much you meant it—how much you longed to be there for him when he was forced out of slumber by whatever memories of his past were haunting him. You’d cradle him through as many nightmares as he wanted you to.

As his breathing began to slow and he surrendered to sleep, your mind wandered to Han. He had a point: if Luke, within reason, asked for something, you would ultimately oblige.

You weren’t sure what that could mean, but you hoped it was mutual.

[cloudcountry]

Ok it says requests closed but I was gonna ask: what about Ritsu is so compelling to you? I find him rather bland and want to hear what about him makes you feel safe and loved? Why is he your favorite? INFODUMP me write all your interest I am listening with excitement :3

oh youre so good, this doesnt count as a request at all!! i actually needed a few days to gather my thoughts and make this semi-coherent. i also consulted my six pages of notes about this guy. yes im normal about him. yes.

RITSU SHINJO. there are a lot of things to love methinks. he can definitely come across as someone who is rude or stuck up, and dont get me wrong i totally did NOT fuck w his ass when i first met him. but he changed my mind really quickly.

i really appreciate how he stands up for what he believes in. like his ambitious nature is what really endeared me to him at first. he stares down barrels of guns and is like "okay, but youre going to listen to what i have to say" and honestly??? i was in awe. hes such a brave person and even if it may seem a lil stupid or outrageous sometimes it always works out in the end somehow.

hes also really smart??? like OBVI but like hold on. there are 264 ARTICLES in the japanese penal code. TWO HUNDRED SIXTY FOUR. and he STILL knows more laws on TOP of that. has them MEMORIZED no less!! hes well versed in the arts and his vocabulary is extensive as well. he can speak MULTIPLE LANGUAGES, including german, french, and italian. literally WHAT THE FUCK. hes so impressive??? this is some rich people shit T0T

his lil quirks are super cute too, like how he only drinks black coffee and has six handkerchiefs so his opponents dont see him sweat, or how he spends time watching opera to unwind after the day's events. his handwriting isnt the neatest and he gets SO butthurt about it. hes so unflappable usually but when insulted? its like we get to see the actual ritsu. its silly bc if you compliment him on his SKILLS hes like "oh its natural, ofc i did xyz" but i want to see how he reacts to being told he looks good. or someone noticing if he did something different w his hair, or wore different accessories, or got a new pen. just . someone noticing the little things about HIM, too.

HE FUCKIN SUCKS AT GAMBLING I LOVE HIMMMM also memorized card game rules after learning he'd be sorted into sinostra. he has so much book smartness but when you put him in front of people he fumbles HARD. like its so cute but also i worry about that bc he needs friends and i want him to make friends but i fear he doesnt think he needs them. what he lacks socially he makes up for in random ass trivia that no one needs to know ever.

hes so PREPARED. this is one of the main things that makes me feel so safe around him actually because hes thought of everything. and yk he doesnt even think its that big of a deal. he exchanges the currency so sinostra can have an inn to stay in for the night, he records everything for jabberwock to make sure he understands exactly what he needs to do for the animals, he covers all of his bases and takes notes about everyones behavior just in case in comes in handy.

uses his stigma for fuckass shit like busting down doors and not getting hurt by a rickety bus ride. uses his book to whack people over the head. regularly goes to the mystery diner and ignores ren's complaints about how he sits his ass down foreverrrr. romeo calls him a greenhorn and he blabs about how he obviously isn't. taiga calls him a dumbass and he starts screeching like a baby bird. hes always trying to reign in taiga while also encouraging his bullshit. has obvious favoritism for mc. protects her whenever he can and worries over her safety when she almost fuckin DIES. acknowledges that shes weaker than him, because hes a ghoul and thats just how it is, and actively takes steps to NOT ONLY PROTECT HER HIMSELF, but build up her confidence TOO.

literally i am convinced the way ritsu sees love is making the people you love the absolute best version of themselves, because thats what his parents did for him. so he tries to teach you what he knows, he RELIES on you to keep tabs on romeo or taiga (that is HUGE actually, considering he berates ren for his attitude and doesnt really seem to be close enoough with the other ghouls to rely on them for anything.)

let me say that again, ritsu views mc as an equal because hes placing the captain/vice captain in her hands and telling her to keep an eye on them, he calls HER when he's trying to meet up with everyone, he's actively treating her like a business partner where they will BOTH BENEFIT in more ways than just the curse lifting and winning the laurel crown--

ARGHHHH I LVOE RITSU SHINJO SO MUCH. you are a trooper if u read all of this can i just say .

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVEEEE TALKING ABOUT HIM <3333

[askthehedgehogs]

For Sonic

I've always wondered, how did Mario react to your relationship? Other than Mighty & Ray, Mario has technically been the person who's known you longer than all of your friends. Sure, you guys were rivals, but I heard you guys are also the best of friends now.

Knowing him, I bet he was excited about it, though I have a feeling he might be sad that Sonic got hitched before he did (*cough* *cough* Mario Odyssey *cough* *cough*). I guess that's one more thing you beat Mario at www

For Shadow

What was it like knowing that Sonic has/had a rival he was more competitive with (for better or worse) than he was with your rivalry? Also, what do you think of Luigi? You guys seemed to be competitive during the olympics as well.

The funny thing about that rivalry is... it's all fake. All of it. The second the cameras go off and the fans look away, we're just two normal dudes out for a beer.

And yeah, he was happy for us! I dunno, maybe he's a little jealous that I got there first, but like, we're adults. Crazy for me to say this but it's not a race, y'know?

Regardless of how genuine their rival status was, I don't care if Sonic has other longstanding rivals. What we have is special.

........ But Luigi gets on my nerves.

[stifletower]

SHSISBSISHSJ guys I need to tell you ab several recent events with my bf (who does NOT know ab my fetish).

1. Last night we were cuddling watching a movie, me laying on his chest, and with a cautious and breathy voice he said to me “hey baby… I think I’m gonna sneeze and I don’t want to scare you…” and I looked up and his damn nostrils were flaring and he had that oh-so-sexy look on his face, and then he has the AUDACITY to be all like “oh wait maybe not” like BOO YOU WHORE! And as he’s trying to decide whether or not he’s about to sneeze I’m watching him probably too closely, he’s like “oh wait I don’t want to sneeze on you” and I’m all like “oh it’s ok baby I really don’t mind” and he’s like “come to think of it I guess that’s not the grossest bodily fluid we’ve exchanged” and I’m just like “hahah yeh🥲🫠” as I melt into a puddle. I reassured him again “I PROMISE I don’t mind AT ALL” (dude I can’t I’m so obvious) and then after all that teasing he didn’t sneeze lmfao

2. Another time he pulled one of his signature Dad Sneeze^TMs and I reacted somewhat normal, but then later I heard his breath get heavy and I instinctively turned my head towards him wayyy too eagerly (I like watching his expression when his eyes are closed lol). BUT IT WAS A FUCKING YAWN. So I turned back around, he questioned me and was like “wtf was that look for?” and I’m blushing and panicked and was like “huh what me? Oh you just made a noise, I was just turning around to see what was up” and he thought I was like mad at him and I realized this and felt bad bc I totally get how my lust and anger read quite similarly on my face. If only he’d connect the dots…

3. He’s also just been like, so damn sneezy recently. He doesn’t have fits but recently he’s had some awesome triples and even some build ups and like it’s hilarious he has no idea how sexy he is lol. And he’s always sniffling, and I’ve been playing caretaker a bit. Every time he sneezes I make a fuss and immediately kiss him, sometimes down his neck, I rly don’t do this on purpose but tbh I’m shocked he hasn’t realized yet bc like I’m such a creature of habit, it’s so obvious when I’m turned on. Maybe I’m slowly pav-loving him LOL. The other day he woke up all sniffly (he wakes up sneezy a LOT and it’s the bane of my existence bc we don’t have any time in the mornings) and I offered to get him some Benadryl and he let me (stupid of me I know but his allergies seem to get to him, even if I love them I care ab his health and comfort). I love doting on him when he’s like that, and he’s the biggest man-cold sufferer you’ve ever met too so you can just imagine flu season lol.

4. This morning he had a typically sneezy start and I was very *affected* and really didn’t want him to get up. I mused him how there were some things he does that he doesn’t even know make me crazy for him, and how they may be kinda weird. I expected him to ask what they were but he was just like “ok that’s cool as long as it works for you” and I said “maybe I’ll tell you one day” and I was HOPING he’d push but dammit he’s too respectful lol. Can’t be mad tho, like God Forbid he respect my boundaries lol

Anyways I know this has been just a ramble post but I had to yap about them somewhere, I have many more obs ofc and probably could share them in a more artsy way, despite my run-on sentences I do actually know how to write and consider myself a decent writer when I want to be. But if I don’t end up writing some fics maybe someone else will be inspired, who knows.

[endersdead]

white knuckling this bipolar episode trying to stay so cool and nice

[ciderjacks]

Also while I’m here does anyone else think about how his immediate thought was that the other party had died while fighting over gold (likely informed by his own past experiences) and then right after he says that Laios draws his sword, and you can see the horror in his eyes as he freezes up.

[kevma]

Kevin laughs, a tinge of awkwardness mostly because this conversation is all so normal that he's not quite sure how to react. It's the same thing that people have been trying to tell him for years, that no one cares about this sort of thing anymore, but now he's watching it play out in action. It would be almost anticlimactic if it wasn't such a relief. "Don't worry, if we're going off past behavior, I'm the asshole here," he admits sheepishly. There's no other way to describe the way he had ignored Jude's eyes in the hallways and kept him hidden like a dirty secret.

He finds himself sinking deeper into his seat next to Romy, letting the booze and night's energy carry him further into this rather peaceful moment despite the frenetic energy surrounding them. Even his stomach's betrayal can't ruin it.

He gets where she's coming from. It's easier to pour himself into other people instead of focusing on his own issues. At this point, Kevin's not sure if it's someone he's always been at heart or something he's been primed to be out of necessity, but he knows it's not something he can just turn off. "Just saying, sometimes we deserve good things too. I'll keep reminding you of it."

His leg is a little restless and he stretches it out, feeling his knee pop with a slight grimace. "All right, I better go find Jude before he gets himself into trouble. It was good to see you, and make sure that Jameson guy behaves. Otherwise, I'll come back and kick his ass."

Romy made a low, theatrical oooooh as Kev’s cheeks went pink, her grin brightening like someone had just handed her gossip and glitter in the same package. She didn’t press — not really — but the way her chin dipped and one brow arched? That was the universal sign for you better believe I’m filing this away for later. “Well,” she said, voice all velvet and feigned innocence, “if he’s the one who made you blush like that, I think I officially approve.” Then she leaned in conspiratorially, eyes flicking sideways like they shared some deeply scandalous secret. “Though I should warn you, if he breaks your heart, I will key his bike. Or his face. Whichever’s easier to reach.”

The nudge had her chuckling softly, and she tapped her glass against his with a quiet little clink, as if toasting to the moment. “Fair’s fair. If he’s allowed to get distracted by charming old friends, then I get to hoard you for at least a few minutes. Them’s the rules.”

When his stomach growled loud enough to warrant its own zip code, Romy looked down at it with mock horror. “Kev. Betrayed by your own body. I thought we had an agreement: if one of us was starving, the other would dramatically faint to distract the room.”

Then, when he said the soft thing — the real thing — her teasing softened into something quieter, gentler. Not gone, just tempered. She smiled at him, small and lopsided, like it wasn’t meant to be a big thing but still landed right in her chest. “Yeah, well,” she said, voice dropping just enough to feel more like truth than joke, “Sometimes spoiling people is the only thing keeping me from spontaneously combusting in public. Keeps the existential dread at bay."

[leatherbookmark]

Huh... just connected the dots between my soul-crushing shame and inability to imagine myself "carelessly having fun" without feeling a Heavy Judging Gaze That Thinks I'm Such A Funny Stupid Little Baby on myself and like... my parents finding it the funniest thing in the world, worth bringing up over and over despite my discomfort, that I used to bob funnily to the music as a toddler

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[akpaleyreblogs]

I love having roleplayed my way into putting a stupid fucked up love triangle into a game that didn't have one

[mei-yoi]

actually crashing out again

why is she this way with me if she’s straight

HELP HELP HELP

she kinda gave me hope bcs she said she questioned herself on being bi before soooooo

Currently going on a ‘not initiating any touch myself’ and ‘keeping myslef from looking at her too much’ run.

Im WAY too obvious and i dont want to lose our friendship

Trying to get rid of my feelings for now

[quaranmine]

random firewatch au detail that has basically no impact on the story unless you want to psychoanalyze fw!grian even further than i did as the author, but it's very intentional that i always refer to both of mumbo's parents but only grian's mom. did i give him daddy issues? i guess so, but not in a way where i really deeply examined the implications as meaningful to the story. it was just a detail i stuck with from the beginning as a way to keep fleshing out the story's background subtly. the idea behind grian's dual citizenship was always that he was born in america to an american dad and british mom, and that his mom moved back to the UK when he was very young since she wanted to be closer to her family. perhaps his dad didn't go with them? or perhaps his dad did, and then later they split and he went back to america? whatever the cause, grian never even mentions his dad in the story, and it wasn't because i intended him to be dead (because that would have come up in a story about grief) if you get me