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kookidough · 1 year ago
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analysing vance hopper because he lives in my head 24/7 !
tw for like. literally everything the black phone covers!!!!!!
also there's some special effects gore rather far down in the post idk just i feel like i should warn you just in case
okay so before anyones like "but bee!!!! he only had 6 minutes of screen time in a 102 minute long movie!!!!! he was only on screen for 5.8% of the movie!!!!!" and to that i say i Know it was a real tragedy so a lot of this will be built on personal interpretation and subtext and stuff said behind the scenes and whatnot
so firstly i wanna rot about what his childhood/upbringing might've been like..... i havent quite decided on something definitive but i think we can take one look at his character and realise that is glaringly obvious he had a bad childhood, in one interview the actor that plays him (brady hepner) says "the background i had set up for vance is that the reason he was the way he was is his home life was fairly difficult, you know maybe his dad was either not there for him or he wasn't supportive, maybe he was fairly abusive, and so that creates a hair trigger sense of rage in vance" hair trigger meaning his patience is literally as thin as a strand of hair it does Not take a lot for him to snap
there more to it after that which i'll get into soon but yea thats the gist of it it's clear he had absent/neglectful/abusive parents and that would certainly contribute to why he's so angry all the time, maybe acting so explosive was the only way to get his parents' attention, either good or bad, so he just internalised that. obviously rage and anger issues like vance's lead to violence (not in all cases but in his case it does) and i think a neglectful and abusive upbringing would obviously expose him to more violence than a normal childhood would, therefore normalising it and desensitising him to it, whether he's seeing it play out in his own home and/or on television or something like that (because i doubt his parents would be the kind to monitor what content he's viewing)
i feel like he has little control over his life and that only adds to his anger, which in his case leads to a fight when his buttons are pushed too many times. i think he probably takes great pride in being the toughest in town and whatnot and winning fights and being perceived as strong and scary is good to him and helps him regain control/power, something he doesnt have at home. the rest of the quote from the interview i mentioned earlier states "this pinball machine could have been the only thing that he has in his heart that's like, good, like 'holy cow i did this, i set the score,' so when someone comes along and messes it up for him, it takes away the only thing that he has. i think that that's when he switches to a 'now you're gonna pay for that'"
similar to what i said about fighting, the pinball machine and his high score is something he has control over and its an important part of his reputation/image like. hes literally pinball vance ! and the whole thing about that high score being the "only thing he has in his heart that's good" implies that hes. well. pretty shit at everything else, which is pretty much canon if you remember that gwen said vance was held back twice in school. makes me think that while he's not the brightest in school he's certainly street smart
moving onto ermmmmm him getting kidnapped era because im sure youre wondering "well bee if he's so street smart then why did he get kidnapped" so may i raise two theories (this is. literally all i got and its not even concrete, me and my friend gray (@staggersz) tried to figure out how this could even happen and this is the most plausible thing we've got. so shoutout to him real quick he has had to deal with me being unnormal about vance for like a year and a half thanks king couldnt have done all this without my rotting buddy)
so either he got taken by surprise (most likely option) or vance's trust was gained first via getting given quarters at the pinball machine and small talk and shit like that but this is unlikely because i feel like it'd take a loooooong time for someone like vance to trust a some random stranger adult man when he clearly has issues with trusting and respecting people older than him and people with authority (e.g. cops, his parents, or school officials) so yea being taken by surprise would probably be the most realistic option, i always see people on tiktok being like "how did the grabber kidnap vance hes so strong!!!!" dude its a 15 year old boy against like. a 45 year old man who's already claimed two lives its really not gonna be a fair fight here
before i get into the next part i wanna quickly address a theory i absolutely Hate and it is so easily disproven and that is the theory that vance is the grabber's son or is related to him in some other way and i see it Far too often on tiktok and i HATE it. from what ive seen this all stems from his dream sequence where he kicks open the fence to albert's house and, presumably, goes inside after being dropped off by the police after the grab n go fight. idk if some people just straight up didnt realise this but clearly in real life he is going to his Own House??? in the dream it's only albert's house because this is how he chooses to show gwen the house she's trying to find her brother in, the house that he himself was killed in??? i hate the theory i hate it sm
the dream sequence itself is interesting though as the ghosts seem to only be able to conjure up what theyve seen in real life (like how bruce can picture the outside of the house and show that to gwen but the house number is all flipped and not right beause he doesnt know it) so vance being able to picture the house and the number and the gate and every detail would imply that hes seen it before, but im going to explain that away as either he got out once before like with finney's failed escape attempt, or the house is most likely on the route he walks to school or the grab n go or something and he hasnt actually been there prior to being kidnapped
mini rant over now onto being kidnapped i guess, so i used the missing posters to try and estimate a timeline of how long each ghost boy would've been in the basement for (although the missing posters are notoriously unreliable for details such as looks/height/age/etc, the dates seem to all line up). so we know the order is griffin, billy, vance, bruce, robin, finney, right?? if we use the poster date then billy was taken on may 4th, 1976, a month and two days after griffin was taken (april 2nd 1976). vance was taken on september 23rd 1977, almost a full year later (stay with me im going somewhere with this), and after that bruce was taken on july 18th 1978, again almost a full year later
its established in the movie that the grabber stalks his victims before he takes them (canon because we literally see the van watching finney and gwen as they walk home from school early on in the movie) but we dont know how long he does this for since griffin/billy and robin/finney were taken such short distances apart and then the others were taken such long distances apart, also it's possible he could stalk his next victim while the previous one is still alive, etc etc lots of confusing factors, but if i've done the maths right then the absolute maximum time vance could've spent down there is 9 months and 25 days, or 298 days, so erm . let that sink in !
howeverrrr in the movie gwen states that vance went missing "last spring" and september is definitely not in spring, meaning he could've been down there for a year or even longer. an explanation or excuse i could think of for the movie and the missing poster saying different things (other than the missing posters being known for some areas being wildly inaccurate) is that maybe he was taken in spring but wasnt labelled as officially missing until september, when he was properly linked to griffin and billy's similar disappearances and the mysterious grabber? i can imagine it'd be very easy for law enforcement, especially in the 70s, to dismiss someone like vance as a runaway until they get solid evidence that he was taken. idk though thats just my personal excuse / angsty headcanon for the difference in information
not sure what exactly killed him but we do hear from vance himself that "he took his time with me" so it was probably blood loss from a variety of injuries, if we look at him in his ghost scenes we can see his hair is absolutely covered in blood which indicates head injury, he clearly has a broken nose and bruising around his eyes as a result of it, he has these deep cuts on his abdomen area (apologies for the image quality but i believe they're like. sfx pieces you would wear under clothing)
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and he also has just like. minor bruising (like the fingerprints on his arm) and other random blood splatters on his face and neck (assuming the blood down his neck comes from wherever he was bleeding on his head) so Yeah overall very unpleasant way to die obviously
okay now the part thats actually in the movie and it only took me 13 paragraphs to get here: vance as a ghost!! first thing i wanna point out is appearance wise i just want to say that when he's a ghost he's missing his choker and that fact Pains me. anyway personality-wise i feel like being violently murdered has, understandably, kicked his rage up to like. the highest level it could possibly go. he's insanely snarky and downright rude to finney on the phone, showing no empathy to the fact that finney is literally in the exact situation he was in
i feel like the whole "this is the nightmare end of your pathetic little life" and "if you knew what you had coming, you'd be fucking terrified" thing is definitely to scare finney on purpose and to get him to do something, vance might as well have just told him he's never going home cuz thats how it came across LMAOO, it is startling though because vance is clearly speaking from experience, that he was literally fucking terrified, and he is warning finney in his own weird way
the thing i think sets vance apart from the other ghosts is that while he does help finney, he does it for a different reason than they do. the other ghosts want finney to escape, to get out, to be free, to live, but personally i dont think vance cares about that. the only thing he wants is for albert shaw to be dead, for someone to seek vengeance, to do what vance couldn't. vance doesn't care if it's bruce or robin or finney or whatever boy could've come after that, he doesnt care as long as that man gets what he deserves after what he put vance through, and i see this through the scene at the end of vance's call where finney thanks him for his help and vance says, and i quote, "helping you? this isn't about you, fuck him! and apologies for being repetitive but to me it just literally proves that to vance, this isnt about finney or his escape, its just about revenge
we dont get to find out what happens to the ghosts once the credits have rolled, and i dont think we quite know enough about tbp's version of ghosts to guess what theyre up to, but i have a few theories :3 maybe theyre no longer bound to those two houses and they can now go anywhere they want in town? or maybe since their shared goal of stopping albert has been achieved, the ghosts can finally pass on to whatever is waiting for them next. i dont think vance would be content to pass on that quickly or easily as anger lingers, but i hope he'd be able to let go of it eventually, and hey we might find out in the sequel. i pray it mentions him cuz i will just die if it doesnt
sometimes, ok thats a lie, frequently i think about an au where he survived or escaped or whatever but ohhhh boy this post is already a train wreck so that au would deserve its own essay of a post :3 if u actually genuinely read this far then Wtf thanks for reading the ramblings of an absolute madman, only pure delusion could get like 20 paragraphs about a guy with 6 minutes screentime but hey thats how i roll, thanks again to my pal gray for letting me rot and thank u to my other pal ana for also enduring all this rot
hope u enjoyed my interpretation of vance hopper im going to crawl in a hole now and probably brainrot some more, thanks again for ur time :3
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themintman · 7 months ago
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Some Dan and Trayaurus doodles caUSE ITS DANS BIRTHDAY!!!! WOOOO 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
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andypantsx3 · 8 months ago
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IF YOU LET ME : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind... CONTENT: Prince Shouto, AFAB fem reader, identity reveal, class differences, slight gender fuckery, historical sexism, implications of past sexual threats, vaguely Heian-era historical Japanese setting, deep historical inaccuracy, SFW (2.2k) NOTES: This was a barely-edited unplanned little thought demon I had to exorcise lol, thank you for being patient with me. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.
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Your breast bindings were missing.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You flipped your sleeping mat again, clawing through your blankets frantically, hoping you’d somehow missed them the first time. But only the tatami floor stared back up at you—strands of woven rice straw pale and bare.
You muttered a curse under your breath—you’d definitely forgotten to extract your bindings from where you’d shucked off yesterday’s robes, forgotten to squirrel them away before sinking into bed. And now they’d been whisked away by a palace maid to be laundered. Or worse, discovered.
Your eyes darted through your small sleeping chamber frantically, seeking a solution. You were already late for Prince Shouto’s first lesson of the day, and you needed all the time you could get with him today. You’d promised the Minister of Rites that you’d have a word with the prince, to try to persuade Shouto to accept the wife he was so persistently putting his advisors off on.
You were, after all, the prince’s closest confidant—his personal secretary and calligraphy tutor, an unthreatening eunuch from the lower classes with whom Shouto was clearly most at ease. And at least most of that was true—you did have Prince Shouto’s trust, friendship, and respect, as much as a member of the imperial family could bestow on a commoner, anyway.
If he was going to listen to anyone on the subject of taking a wife—at the very least one concubine, if not his future empress—it would be his trusted friend the eunuch.
There was just one very important detail that everyone, even His Highness, was mistaken about on that account.
One blasted detail that could get you killed at best were anyone to figure it out.
Your eyes fell back to your blankets, and you immediately grabbed two fistfuls, yanking as hard as you could until you felt the fabric give, the rip and tear echoing in the small space of your sleeping chamber. You kept ripping until a strip came free, a little smaller than what you usually had to work with.
But you were not about to complain, not at a time like this.
You flung the strip down to scrabble with the tie of your underrobe, unknotting it with fumbling fingers. You were just about to fling it off of you when there was a careful knock against the screen of your door.
You didn’t manage to stifle your reflexive scream, stumbling through a half-executed turn towards the door. The screen was suddenly thrown back with alarming force, Prince Shouto’s figure filling the doorway.
You yanked your shirt closed again, panicking, as you caught sight of the concern on his handsome face. You barely registered the other details, mind tripping over excuses, unable to appreciate the way his shoulders looked all the broader in his sokutai the way you normally did.
“Are you well?” Shouto demanded, his normally soft tone a little ragged. You watched his mismatched eyes dart quickly around your chambers, as if seeking a threat, only to drop back to you when there was none.
“Your Highness,” you said, lost for anything else.
“I heard—there was a scream,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching the tiniest bit.
He always looked his most beautiful when he was confused, you thought, focusing hard on a particular problem. Not that a common woman had any business thinking anything about the crown prince, never mind a woman masquerading as a man. But it was hard to ignore a face that beautiful, the way his gaze sharpened with focus, full mouth pursing as he thought through a problem.
He looked like that now as his gaze darted over you. And then suddenly his eyes dipped to your collarbone, and his features went perfectly, horribly still.
An elegant hand reached back, and he immediately drew the screen closed behind him, eyes never leaving you as he took another step into the room.
You stumbled back, almost tripping over your bedding. You did not dare to turn towards him or away, scuttling sideways instead like a nervous crab.
“Your Highness,” you began again, heart shooting into your mouth when Shouto’s long fingers tangled in your undershirt.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening. You gripped your shirt closed as hard as you could against the tug of his fingers. “Did something happen?”
“N-nothing,” you stammered, not liking the way it made him clearly more suspicious. “I was just changing.”
But Shouto’s beautiful, cursed eyes dipped to your bedding, where the torn strip lay across your blankets in plain sight. You could almost see the calculation as his eyes widened the tiniest fraction, and his grip tightened on your robes. Of course he’d seen it, and of course it looked like a wound dressing you’d just been about to apply.
He took another step closer, too close, until you could feel the heat of him through your sleeve, smell the sweet blend of dried herbs the servants kept his clothing stored with.
You tried to twist out of Shouto’s grip without rucking up your shirt, but his hold was too strong.
“Let me see,” he ordered in his soft, low tone. Your heartbeat kicked up higher, hammering in your chest so hard it could have broken a rib.
It was a death sentence to ignore an order from a member of the imperial family. It was also a death sentence to reveal what you’d been these many years. You hoped Prince Shouto, something of a friend to you, would let you off lightly for ignoring him.
“Please, Your Highness,” you said, clinging even harder to the closure of your shirt. “I will be ready in just a moment, I am simply running late. I beg your forgiveness.”
But if there was one thing about the crown prince, it was that he was stubborn, bullheaded when it came to the ideas and goals he took seriously. And he had always made it clear he took your friendship seriously.
That perfect mouth shifted into a frown. “I order you to let me see,” he said, his tone still soft but firm. “You will let me.”
You froze under his hands, muscles locking up in panic. Shouto was still between you and the door, and your chambers were not wide enough for you to slip around him without him being able to easily catch you. He was also, unfortunately, extremely quick with sharp reflexes honed by years of swordsmanship. There would be no escaping this situation.
Fuck. Fuck, you were out of ideas.
“Hold still,” Shouto commanded gently, long fingers prying your stiff ones away from the shirt ties. You watched his face in mute panic, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal and disgust, but unable to look away as he prised your robes aside. Shame heated your cheeks.
Shouto’s long eyelashes dipped, before his gaze froze on your chest. For a second, he went as stiff as you. Then he was yanking your robes closed again, a watercolor of pink washing across the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones.
His eyes darted back to yours, his expression perfectly still though his face was flushed. “You never told me,” he said accusingly.
The right thing to do in this situation was to go to your knees in a kowtow and beg for his mercy, but Shouto still had a grip on your robes and did not look like he meant to let go. You ducked your head in as much of a bow as you could manage, your face warm. “Your Highness, I have no excuse. I have betrayed you.”
When you had concocted this scheme, you had wanted to put yourself beyond the reach of a local official back in your home village. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive, and as a common woman, you had no recourse. You could only escape into a place where his rule was circumvented by a superior one, where no man would think to have an interest in you.
You had not intended to become Prince Shouto’s tutor, had not anticipated the true risk of your gambit until it was already too late. But you would still rather die than be returned into the hands of your village’s preceptor.
If this is how it ended…
“I have compromised you,” Shouto’s voice startled you out of your memories.
You glanced up at him, befuddled.
Shouto’s fingers twisted in your robes. “Just now, and—all the many times we have been alone until now. I did not know.”
Honor and compromise were the least of your concerns right now, and would matter even less in the event of your death. You did not know where the prince meant to go with this.
“Your Highness, you were not expected to know,” you said, shame coiling in your belly. You would make the same choices you had made over again, if given the chance, but you had never meant to betray Shouto. You had genuinely liked him, and you would regret losing the chance to be by his side in the years to come.
Shouto’s eyes flicked over you in some kind of assessment. He lifted one hand from your shirt, gasping your scholar’s cap and tugging it free from your hair. You felt his fingers tangle so very gently in the strands of your hair, seeking out the ties and pins.
Your own eyes traced over him as he did, drinking in the firm planes of his chest in his sokutai, the dark blue a beautiful contrast with his pale skin. You heard pins dropping to the ground beside you, as Shouto rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers. He seemed to be evaluating you in a new light, relearning your appearance though a clearer lens.
Disgust and betrayal were not evident in how delicately he was handling you. You did not know what this meant.
“They will put you to death if they know,” Shouto said, eyes slowly moving from the hair between his fingers to your face again. “You cannot hide like this forever.”
You did not know what other choice was to be had. If Shouto did not plan to put you to death himself, then what other choice did you have than to go on pretending?
Shouto’s gaze dropped to your mouth and you realized you’d spoken the thought aloud.
“There is one other way to put you beyond the reach of the court,” he said slowly.
You felt your eyebrows raise in question. “I cannot think of it, Your Highness.”
Shouto absently curled the strand of your hair about his fingers, the little crease between his perfect eyebrows appearing again. He looked the way he did when he played games with his strategy tutor, or when he was thinking hard on a new sword form.
“The ministers wish for me to take a wife,” Shouto said softly. “My household is mine to manage alone.”
Outside the laws of the court, he meant. A strange flutter went through you, heat spotting your cheeks again. Shouto’s presence before you was suddenly magnified a hundred fold, and you became singularly aware of the breadth and height of him, the heat of him almost against you.
“You do not want a wife,” you said, well aware of the many years he’d spent bullheadedly resisting the idea.
“I do not want any the ministers have selected for me,” Shouto corrected.
Your whole body felt flushed again. He meant he was amenable to you.
You had never let yourself think it but he was more than amenable to you as well.
“I would keep you safe,” he promised.
You almost slumped to the floor in relief, only Shouto’s grip on you keeping you upright. You would not die. You would not be returned to your village. You would, through all of this, it seemed, keep Shouto’s friendship.
“I know you would,” you said.
Shouto understood your acceptance. Slowly his fingers untwined themselves from your hair, and he drew your robes more firmly around you. Your body burned hot, still, stomach fluttering under his renewed brand of regard.
“I will arrange it quickly,” Shouto said. “You must stay here. I will send someone for you.”
You nodded.
Shouto looked regretful as he stepped back from you. “We will do it properly, later,” he said. “I will pay my respects to your family.”
You waved a hand frantically, shocked by the idea of the future emperor making his bows in your family’s rundown hut. It was not as though you would be his first-ranked wife or empress! He did not need to pay any respects to the family of a concubine out of a common family!
“There is no need,” you insisted, but Shouto was already turning towards the door. You could see by the set of his shoulders this was another thing he meant to be stubborn about.
“I will honor my first and only wife,” he said, turning to pin you with that heterochromatic gaze.
Your mouth dropped open in shock, but you had no time to reply before he was sliding the door closed behind him again, leaving you alone with the sudden weight of the statement. It had all happened so quickly, you had never expected that Shouto meant what he did.
You wondered what it meant that Shouto had made such a promise so readily, when he had known the truth about you for only minutes.
And you wondered if, like your original entry into the palace, you were getting yourself into something far beyond what you initially understood.
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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago
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we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 11.9k warnings: heavy second base action (no tops, dry humping) but no smut, swearing, drinking but it’s legal summary: their friends think that if there’s tension between new roomates (y/n) and yuuta, then they should just act on it.  more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommate!au, childhood friends, unrequited(?) love
part one: “face it, you want it, you crave it” ___
Having Yuuta as a roommate was never all that weird for (y/n).  Things sort of just worked out that way, and honestly she was so relieved that she didn’t have to scramble to find a stranger to split the rent with- or face homelessness- that she hadn’t really given it much thought until a few days after he’d moved all of his things in and had settled into their now shared space.
On paper, he was the perfect candidate after all.  They’d been friends for years, having known each other since childhood it was easy to trust him in her space.  He already spent so much time in her dorm when she still lived on campus that having him in her living space didn’t seem like it’d be that much different anyways.  Not to mention she knew him to be tidy and a pretty good cook, so as long as he was able to supply half the rent every month, she was content.
The day he’d moved in she’d been so happy that she’d hardly focused at all on helping him unpack.  Most of her time was spent dancing around to the moving playlist she’d made, and she insisted they jam out while they- he- unpacked his things in the empty room adjacent to hers.  When she wasn’t dancing, she was rambling on about how delighted she was that he agreed to move in with her.  Looking back it was probably a little much, but Yuuta wasn’t overwhelmed by her excitement in the slightest.
As soon as she’d mentioned being on the hunt for a roommate he hadn’t thought twice about offering himself.  They both just so happened to decide to move off campus to find cheaper, and steadier housing.  The market wasn’t all that great so living alone wouldn’t have been possible even if either of them had interest in the roach infested studios in the area.  Even the two bedroom apartment they shared was rather tiny, the living space and kitchen was essentially all one room, and there was only one bathroom, but they made it work.  It was still more affordable than living on campus, and that’s all they cared about.
For the first two weeks it had been fun, even.  It felt like a sleepover with their best friend, but every night.  They spent most nights in cozy pajamas curled up on the couch sharing their favorite movies and swapping snacks.  (y/n) couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, and she was happy to tell him so every chance she got.
Yuuta couldn’t believe how lucky he was to get to spend all his free time with her.  No longer did he have to coordinate around both of their schedules in order to have quality time with his favorite person.  If she had to study for the evening and couldn’t hang out, he’d happily sit on her bed scrolling on his phone or reading.  When their friends were free they’d come over unannounced, because either (y/n) or Yuuta were bound to be around to hang out with.
It was just so easy, it almost felt like a dream.  The beginning of having their own space as young adults to do with as they please.  
Yuuta bought a fish tank for their living room, a whole ten gallon aquarium for a pretty betta fish that (y/n) helped him pick out.  They spoiled it with plants and cool rocks for decoration.  They took turns feeding him every three days, and regularly sat in front of his tank to admire him.  If one of them weren’t present, the other would spam their phone with photos and videos of it swimming around, doing next to nothing, with captions full of hearts and emojis to swoon for their pet.
(y/n) spent her freedom a little differently.  
At first it was decorating her new room with a maximalist aesthetic.  Posters, tapestries, string lights, and any strange pretty thing she’d taken a liking to covered her walls so thick that most of it began to overlap.  It could be overstimulating to some- as Maki had remarked when she first visited the place- but she loved it that way.  It took her a full three days to collage a whole wall full of her favorite photos.  Ones from childhood, some from grade school, most from her most recent experiences and adventures through college.  If she were to pull out her phone and snap a photo to make a proper memory of the day, it was likely getting printed out the next day and taped up to the wall.  Soon, those too began to pile up and overlap, but again, she loved it that way.  Even Yuuta began to take pictures for her, printing them out when he found the time and sticking them to the fridge to surprise her.
Once the project that was her room had been tackled and she was satisfied with the home she’d made for herself, her desire for freedom took the form of heavy drinking.  It might have been concerning, Yuuta certainly panicked a little bit when he’d come home from a late study group session and find her dancing around the kitchen with her favorite handle in her clutch and the belting of her favorite song echoing in the small space.  Eventually her time of drinking alone proved to be just a phase, one too many hangovers having taught her a lesson on time and place for drinking hard alcohol straight.  But he did come to learn that she was quite comfortable as a social drinker.  So if the Zen’in twins and Toge were coming over, it wasn’t odd to find a drink in her hand.  At least she started taking his advice and ending the night with a full glass of water and an ibuprofen.
All in all, living together hadn’t been too strange of a milestone for them.  It was fun, it was easy, and they really couldn’t have asked for more out of a roommate.  Being best friends was an added perk that just made it all the more smooth.
Until recently. ___
“I’m tellin’ you,” 
(y/n) huffed as she pulled the straw from her mouth as she spoke.  A signature vodka cranberry mixed to perfection after months of honing the skill of a perfect pour.  Her movements are a little delayed and awkward as she leaned back into the kitchen counter, her elbows coming to rest on it to hold herself up as she leaned her head back dramatically.  Maki, who had only been semi listening to the girl’s ranting, remained silent as she raised a brow at the display.
“I think he’s doin’ it on purpose” (y/n) finished with a mumble.
It was difficult to hear her over the game of mariokart that Yuuta and Toge were currently playing in the living room- they got quite competitive when it came to that game in particular- but Maki caught enough of it to understand where she was going.
She looked over at her sister with only mild interest in her expression.  Mai touched her fingertips to her mouth as she chuckled to herself, finding the situation far more amusing than Maki.
The situation began as simple as this: In order to save time in the mornings when both (y/n) and Yuuta had class, they’d been working on a bathroom schedule in order to optimize their time.  For example, (y/n) had started doing her hair and makeup at a mirror in her room, where she’d sit on the floor and go through her skin care routine, and any other beautification and styling she’d felt inclined to for the day.  That helped a lot with cutting back on hogging the shared bathroom.
Yuuta’s idea of helping to cut back on time, is to go back to his room directly after a shower to dry his hair and get dressed for the day.  It was a great idea in theory, and would definitely save an extra five to ten minutes.
However twice now (y/n) had run into him in the short hall from the bathroom to his room.  She shouldn’t have been so flustered.  Realistically, she wasn’t seeing anything she hadn’t seen before.  There had been plenty of times she’d seen him without a shirt.  In the backyard of the home she’d grown up in they’d often set up a sprinkler to run through.  In high school they’d gotten their volunteer hours in through lifeguarding together.  In their freshman year of college they’d gone to just about every frat party, bonfire, and beach day that was thrown, just to be able to say they had taken on the party scene in their younger years.  Seeing Yuuta shirtless was nothing new.
But twice now she’d practically run into him, with nothing but a towel held around his waist, damp hair sticking to his forehead and falling around his eyes, pale skin still littered with droplets of water, and had he started working out-? 
Even thinking about it now she felt her face heating up.  She shouldn’t have committed that image to memory- but it happened twice already so it couldn’t have been more than her mind staying sharp, right? 
“If he’s doing it on purpose,” Mai’s voice had (y/n) snapping her head up as she crash landed back in reality.  Her blush was obvious to the twins, but she hoped to play it off as the alcohol in her system.
Certainly not the thoughts that had started littering her mind, thoughts that you just don’t have about a best friend and roommate.
“Then why don’t you just do something about it?” Mai finished with a small smile on her face that suggests she has quite a few ideas in mind on how she could fix this problem.
(y/n’s) eyes widen, and she brings her drink back to her lips to ease her racing heart and spiraling thoughts.
“Like what?” She mumbles, as if there was a chance the guys could possibly hear their conversation.
Nothing could compete with the sound effect of a blue shell incoming, and Toge’s defeated screeches.
Maki scoffs before laughing, finally finding entertainment in this whole ordeal (y/n) had gotten herself so worked up about.  The last ten minutes of their girl talk in the kitchen had been for nothing, it seemed, if she wasn’t going to act on her obvious infatuation.
“Just bone?” She suggests with a small laugh.
(y/n) swears her eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets, and what was meant to be a small sip of her drink turned into a gulp as she sucked a little too harshly on her straw.
“Maki,” Mai hisses, smacking her sister’s arm, before turning back to (y/n).  “She’s not wrong though, that would definitely solve everything” 
“I can’t do that!” (y/n) squeaks.  “I just- it’ll pass, it’s just a little crush, right? That’s normal, right?” 
She looks between the twins for confirmation, validation in her silly feelings that were bound to pass with time.  Mai winces.  Maki rolls her eyes.  This wasn’t looking promising.  But perhaps they were just too eager to set up their friends and see some drama to unfold, so (y/n) decides that their advice might be a bit on the biased side.
“Just test the waters a little first,” Maki suggests, shooting Mai a look as she tries to telepathically tell her to reel it in.  “Dip your toes in a little.  No harm in that, right?”
“You live together, how have you not experimented a little already?” Mai mumbles, her brows furrowing together as her eyes glaze over, as though trying to process how it could be possible.  The calculations simply weren’t adding up.
(y/n) gnaws on the inside of her cheek, and her fingers begin to tap on her glass.
“I guess…” She says, but her uncertainty is obvious.  “Well… how much is a little?” 
The twins burst into laughter, and they’re looking at each other like there’s an inside joke she’s not in on, and (y/n) pouts at them for teasing her in their silent twin way.  This wasn’t the first time, she should be used to feeling like an odd man out when it came to hanging out with these two, but they were her last hope for guidance, so she took what she could.
For now, she determined that Maki and Mai weren’t going to be of much help as they snickered and muttered to one another.  (y/n) couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but she gathered enough to realize they were slights against her, and she had enough of the bordering-on-friendly fire.
“I’m playing mariokart” She huffs, strutting out of the kitchen space and across the floor to the living room.  In this small apartment it was an open floor so the couch was only ten feet away, but it was far enough that she couldn’t hear their laughter anymore, and for now that was enough.
Yuuta and Toge were sitting on the sofa, both heavily concentrating on the competitive game.  Their wrists are flicking the switch controllers with precise movements as they steer, but when it comes to using items and drifting, their fingers are smashing buttons viciously.  As she rounds the sofa she eyes the screen, seeing that the pair are battling it out for first place, with Yuuta currently claiming the spot.
That is, until (y/n) plops onto the cushioned armrest right beside him, and he glances up at her out of habit.  The two seconds that he takes to smile up at her- even though she’s watching the screen- is all Toge needs to creep up Yuuta’s character and throw a green shell directly at his kart.
The remote tingles in his hands with a familiar vibration, his character having taken a hit.  Yuuta’s head swivels back to the screen, as he desperately tries to make a comeback, but two other characters have already passed him, and now he’s in fourth place.
“What the hell!?” He groans as he realizes his demise is inevitable.  It was the third lap of the game, and Toge’s Yoshi was about to cross the finish line.  “That was so uncool!” 
Toge’s cackling to himself, proud of his sneaky attack.  He had a feeling it would work, all he needed was the perfect distraction.  And nothing distracted Yuuta like (y/n).
As Yoshi crosses the finish line, Yuuta drops his controller to his lap with a defeated huff.  He leans back into the sofa, head hitting the cushion as he glares at the screen displaying Yoshi’s victory dance, before he turns to (y/n), who gives him a sympathetic smile, before offering her drink to him.
“That was a dirty move,” She sides with him- typical, Toge rolls his eyes at the two of them, which goes unnoticed- “You’ll get him next time” 
Yuuta takes the glass from her hand, sipping from the straw experimentally.  There had been a period of time where her drinks were so strong he was about ready to cut her off from alcohol altogether.  When a perfect mixture of vodka and cranberry juice hits his tongue, he’s pleasantly surprised that it’s not too bitter.  His eyes light up at her before he swallows.  She giggles at the obvious reaction.
“Yeah yeah” She mutters before he could even say anything.  He didn’t have to for her to understand exactly what he was thinking.
Yuuta chuckles at her, before scooting over on the sofa, closer to Toge, so that there was some space for her to sit next to him.
“You want in?” He asks, holding his controller out to her.
She squeezes awkwardly into the small space, her legs still hanging over the armrest, and her back almost completely pressed into his side.  Toge had shifted completely to one side of the couch, giving Yuuta more than enough space to also move so that (y/n) could sit properly.  But neither of them seem to notice the blonde boy’s silent offer.  Or, if they did, they didn’t pay any mind to it.
(y/n) takes the controller with a grin and a nod, and Toge starts up the next round.  Yuuta had chosen Rosalina as his character, a favorite between them that they often fought over so much she was usually off limits when the two of them played.
Despite having a delayed start because Yuuta had finished the last race somewhere in the middle of the lineup, (y/n) makes a good comeback for the both of them.  He cheers for her, leaning forward in his seat again as though he were still focused on the game for his own win.  (y/n) remained in a relaxed position slumped back against him, her fingers moving with swift ease over the controller.
She giggled at the way Yuuta was on the edge of his seat, literally, sipping down the rest of her drink as he watched her play.  He threw out advice when she picked up items, and winced for her when she took a hit.
“Use that! Throw it! Throw it at-!” 
“Yuuta you’re being a backseat driver” (y/n) said calmly, keeping the red shell in her inventory despite his demands.  
Toge barks out a laugh, still coasting in first place without much competition from the computers.  But (y/n) was quickly gaining on him, drifting and gliding past the other spots with ease, and Yuuta began to realize her strategy.  With a knowing grin on his face he leans back into the couch again, and puts his faith in her abilities.
She kicked his ass most of the time when they played one on one anyways.
Soon enough she was in second place and Yoshi was in sight.  Yuuta’s hand happily tapped at her shoulder, giddy with his excitement.  Toge had gone eerily silent as he put all of his focus in remaining in first.  But his efforts were wasted, without an item to defend himself, (y/n) was able to take him out with one blow, stealing first place for herself and crossing the finish line on the final lap shortly after.
She raised her arms victoriously, but even more excited than her was Yuuta, who bragged in Toge’s face before wrapping his arms around his roommate and congratulating her on her win.  She laughed, her head falling back on his shoulder as she laughed at his antics.
He beamed at her, and even though it was silly, there was no doubt in her mind that his pride in her was anything but authentic.  Yuuta was just like that.  He celebrated even the most minor of conquests.
Toge tossed the controller onto the coffee table with a string of curses muttered under his breath.
“Good timing,” Maki calls, dangling her keys in her hand and catching their attention.  “Are you crashing here or are you leaving with us?” 
(y/n) lifts her head up from Yuuta’s shoulder, peeking over the back of the couch at the twins who suddenly had their shoes on.  She gives them a pout.
“Leaving so soon?” 
“We’ve been here for eight hours” Mai giggles.
“It’s one in the morning you maniac” Maki rolls her eyes.
“You could just spend the night,” (y/n) offers, her features brightening up at the idea.  “Sleepover-!” 
“No,” Maki shakes her head firmly, despite Mai’s excited expression at the idea.  “We have class in the morning, we’ll do it another time, okay?” 
(y/n) nods, satisfied with that answer.
Toge shuffles off the couch, giving a bitter congratulations to the winning pair of mariokart, although he made it clear to Yuuta that he only won because (y/n) took over.
They bid their friends goodbye, promising to meet up again at some point soon, knowing fully well they wouldn’t make a plan, and someone was bound to show up on their doorstep without invitation tomorrow or the next day.
And then it was just (y/n) and Yuuta.
She was still tucked under his arm, he was still drinking the remnants of the drink she’d made for herself but had conveniently forgotten about so he could have the last of it.
“Are you going to bed, too?” She asks him, and he chuckles at her desire for staying up late.
They’d always been opposites in that aspect.  
(y/n) was a night owl through and through, whether party mode was on or not.  She was most productive when the sun went down.  It wasn’t odd to find her studying or doing chores at odd hours of the night.  He’d actually had to tell her she couldn’t vacuum in the middle of the night, claiming she was going to make their neighbors complain.  But it was a treat for him to wake up and find the apartment spotless and organized.
Meanwhile Yuuta was an early to rise kind of guy.  He had a decent morning routine for himself that involved an alarm going off at eight in the morning every morning, and it wasn’t often he broke that routine.  He’d be up for a few hours before (y/n) would drag herself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast- which was usually waiting for her on the counter.
“It is the middle of the night now,” He tells her, before checking his phone.  “Actually it’s not technically night anymore, it’s Friday morning”
(y/n) frowned at him.  He chuckles again.
“Fine, fine” (y/n) starts to sit up, but doesn’t go too far.  She pulls her legs onto the cushion beneath her, and then turns to face him properly.
For some reason when she looks up at him again, she’s brought back to her conversation with the Zen’in twins, and she can’t help but wonder what they would have advised her to do if she’d stuck around for the rest of their conversation.  She wondered if Yuuta had ever experienced this dilemma, or if she was the only one creating the tension in the apartment.  She wondered if he even felt it.
“Som’thin’ on your mind?” Yuuta asks after a few beats of silence pass.  His eyebrows furrow in the slightest, and (y/n’s) expression eases into something calmer.  She must’ve been thinking too hard, she supposes.
“Not really, just had a weird talk with Maki and Mai” She tries to brush it off as not a big enough deal worth talking about, but for some reason, this seems to catch his interest.
“Oh yeah?” He muses curiously.  “Don’t tell me they want to move in-” 
“No!” (y/n) let out a burst of laughter as she shook her head.  “Where did that come from? Where would they even stay?” She asks, gesturing to the small space around them.  Yuuta laughs with her, shrugging his shoulders.
“My thoughts exactly,” He agrees quietly, as though they were keeping it a secret just between them.  “But everyone hangs out here all the time, I don’t want them getting any ideas,” He says, half seriously.  “This is our sweet deal,”
Yuuta laughs again, but this time when she laughs along with him it’s soft, almost unsure.  Her heart flutters in her chest at the sentiment he shares for having this place with her.  Even after all this time, she feels relief in waves of warmth when he voices his happiness here.
“What is it then?” He asks.  He leans back into the couch cushion, but keeps his eyes on hers.  She tilts her head and hums in question.  “Your weird talk,” He reminds her, “What was it about?” 
“Oh,” (y/n) drops her gaze from his, her face warming up at the idea of admitting to him what they’d been talking about.
I’ve just been thinking about you shirtless a lot lately, and sometimes I can’t sleep over it just doesn’t seem to be an appropriate thing to say to a long time best friend who she now lives with.
“They were just asking questions about what it’s like to live together” She settles on a half lie.  They had been curious about the living situation.  She didn’t necessarily have to disclose that Mai found it unthinkable that they were able to share a living space and not tear each other’s clothes off… right?
“For us to live together?” Yuuta raises a brow.  (y/n) tucks her hands into her lap and nods.  
She tries to get comfortable leaning her back against the arm rest, but everytime his gaze falls on her, it feels heavier than usual, and she struggles to sit still.  Her hands fiddle in her lap, she squirms in her seat, and she can only hold his eye contact for a minute at a time.  Did he always look at her like that? She wondered when she dared to meet those deep blue irises again.  Was it the few drinks he’d had that made them look darker? Or was she seeing things? 
“Why was that so interesting?” He asks.  “I mean, it’s been six months,” 
Again, her heart flutters at the thought of him knowing exactly how long they’d been living together.  Or maybe she was being stupid and he was just keeping track of the rent.
“What’s so interesting about now?” 
(y/n) shrugs, a small smile on her face that she can’t help.  “I don’t know” 
But he sees through the statement, especially with that smile on her face that tells him there was more she wasn’t telling him.  Curiosity gets the best of him, and he raises a brow at her.
“Well,” He ponders, “What were they so curious about?” 
(y/n) drags her bottom lip between her teeth as she narrows her eyes at him, proving that she could read him well, too, and she could tell that he was trying to pry even though she’d been repeatedly dismissing the subject.
“Nosy tonight,” She scolds him as she kicks her legs out to throw them over his, stretching the sore muscles from sitting on her feet for too long.  “Were you eavesdropping, Okkotsu?” 
“No,” He lets out a small laugh.  “Though now I wish I had been, since you’re being unusually cryptic about it” 
“Unusual?” She repeats the word in a drawl, tilting her head and pretending to think it over.  “I wouldn’t say unusual,” She argues softly.  “I don’t tell you everything” 
“Yes you do” Yuuta replies matter of factly, his expression doesn’t even flicker.  (y/n) blinks at him.
“No…” 
“Oh yeah? Tell me something you haven’t told me then” He challenges, his lips curling into a smile.
She huffs, and quickly tries to rack her brain for something she’d kept from him.  Secrets and embarrassing moments fly through her train of thought as she tries to latch onto a memory that she was sure she hadn’t shared with him.
Her eyes light up as she finally remembers something she’s sure he didn’t know.
“Oh!” She leans forward with eager anticipation to prove him wrong.  “Remember my first boyfriend? In middle school?”
Yuuta raised a brow, but nodded in confirmation.
“On our first date, he took me out-” 
“Mhm,” Yuuta hums, recalling the details of that date without much thought at all.  “Bowling” He said calmly.
“Right,” (y/n) chuckles, flustering a bit that he already seemed to remember the event as easily as she had.  “Well, at the end of the date, when we were waiting outside for his mom to pick us up, he’d asked if he could kiss me while we were alone, before she got there,” Her words are a little slurred, which she was quick to mentally blame on the few drinks she’d had.  “But I told him n-” 
“- you told him no because you ate chili fries while you were bowling and you didn’t want him to taste it and then he kissed you anyways and you slapped him on instinct and he was a little whiner about it and said you did taste like chili fries and you smacked him again” Yuuta filled in the rest of the story, his head rested back against the cushion again, as though he was bored just from retelling it.
(y/n) blinked, her lips parting into an ‘o’ shape as she realized maybe he did know everything about her already.  Should it have been obvious to her from his confidence on that matter? Probably.  Did she still feel a determination to find something, anything, that he didn’t know? Definitely.
At her lack of response, Yuuta rolled his head to the side, a lazy smirk tugging on his lips when he regarded her soft surprise.  Her eyes narrow in the slightest at him, playful mockery of his know-it-all attitude.
“Well, then,” (y/n) scoffed as she took on a refreshed attitude when it came to rubbing in his face that she knew something he didn’t.  “I suppose you already knew that the twins were curious about how you and I seem to manage living together without some kind of netflix-romcom-level sexual tension” 
The teasing tone in her voice and eager gleam in her eye seem to disappear as soon as the words come out and she realizes what she’s just said.  In slow motion, and as her face falls into one of regret, she realizes two things.
One, that by addressing the sexual tension, whether it existed or not, it instantly thickened in the air.  All at once she’s aware of it.  Suddenly the weight of her legs in his lap is so heavy she feels a desire to curl up into him completely.  Yuuta has one arm draped over the back of the couch cushions in her direction, his hand hangs loosely just in front of her shoulder.  If she were to lean forward in the slightest movement, his fingers would graze her sweater.  His other hand lays on her knee, and sporadically he taps his index finger against it.  Sometimes she thinks he’s playing a familiar beat that’s been stuck in his head, too, but then he pauses and she loses track of figuring out what song that is.  Even her breathing is suddenly manual, and she’s afraid if she sucks in a breath too sharp, he’ll question it.  So she takes slow, shallow breaths, barely filling her lungs with oxygen.  Was that why she was getting so dizzy? 
Two, now that she’s admitted what her and the twins had been talking about earlier, (y/n) fears that she’ll have to confess that the reason they were talking about the sexual tension was because she’d created the sexual tension- and yet she had gone to them to blame him for it.
Yuuta blinks, his brows furrowing at first, as though to process the information, but he just as quickly relaxed his face and pursed his lips, giving her a small nod.
(y/n) doesn’t dare utter a word.  Instinct claws up her throat and begs her to take it back, make a joke and apologize to smooth it over and hopefully they’d never mention it again.  The words die before she can utter them.  She remains frozen beside him, focused on his every microexpression, hoping to figure out what he was thinking before he voiced it.
“I see,” He says, a small smile gracing his features that has her relaxing just a little bit.
Yuuta can feel her weight shifting as she sinks further into the couch cushion.  He could sense her nerves from a mile away, so he spoke carefully, hoping not to spook her into retreating early.
Comfortingly, his hand smooths over her knee, long fingers grazing her thigh from the short caress.
“I don’t think I would’ve guessed that,” He admits with a chuckle through his nose.  His eyes flicker over to hers, watching her closely.  Her cheeks are pink, and her gaze shifts between his eyes at a faster rate than usual.  She’s still anxious.  “But I can’t say I’m surprised” 
Her lips twitch with a curious emotion Yuuta can’t read as well as before.  Her brows pinch and then relax.  She’s reading him, he thinks.  His mind is a little hazy from the few drinks he’s had, so he might be seeing things that aren’t there, but he’s equally intrigued by the conversation.
“You don’t think it’s weird?” She asks.  Her voice is quiet, but he doesn’t mistake it for uncertainty.  In fact, he can tell just how genuinely interested she is in obtaining his thoughts.  Just as he is, she’s on the edge of her seat, and only pushing further to see where this new line of thought would lead them both.  “Living together, I mean” She clarifies, unnecessarily.
The pad of his finger taps against her knee, once, and then twice.  His lips purse and she watches the movement with her breath hitched in her throat.  The room was getting hot from the thickening tension that she’d created.  It was almost uncomfortable, her body screamed for her to get up from this couch, pull herself from where she was half draped over his lap and put as much distance between them while she still could.  She was approaching a line between them that she’d never even tiptoed across before, and she wasn’t sure what lied on the other side, but god, she was just dying to find out.
“Weird? Not in the slightest” Yuuta murmurs honestly.  She can tell from the way his eyes lock onto hers that he does mean it, and relief flooded her.  Before it came back in the form of excitement, and now her skin was buzzing everywhere that their bodies were touching.
“You’re not just saying that?” She double checks, leaning forward off of the arm rest to study him up close.  
They were already close enough, but there was a quiet desire in the back of her mind longing to push closer, until she could make out the individual swirls of blue in his irises.  Her lips curve into a soft, lovely smile as she admires him, and Yuuta fights the way his own breath chokes up in his throat.
“You really don’t think it’s weird we’ve never…” She trails off, her head shaking in a small movement, just enough to make a few stray hairs fall into her eyes.  “I dunno, like, even kissed or anything?” 
His eyes grow rounder at the question, widening just a little bit, but enough for her to notice.  She knew such a blunt question would make him nervous, Yuuta always grew nervous at any sort of romantic prospect.  He’d been that way since they were kids.  If he had a crush on someone it was obvious, but as soon as (y/n) would press about it, he’d get red in the face and begin to stutter.  It had always been cute, if not a little silly.  But now it had her curious as to why.  They’d been friends for so long, and even now that they were older, it was like his initial response to such questioning would make him shut down.
‘You could bring girls here, you know,’ She’d told him once, shortly after they’d settled into the apartment.  ‘I could even leave for the night.  Stay with the twins, or somethin.  That way it’s not weird’ 
He’d laughed, and given her a puzzled look, like the mere idea was ridiculous, like he didn’t even understand what she was suggesting.  The pink in his cheeks told her he knew fully well what she was saying.  She’d returned the confused look at the time.  ‘Don’t you want to bring girls here?’ She’d asked point blank.
‘N-no, well, maybe,’ His response was immediate but he had no clue what he was saying.  ‘I just haven’t thought about it’ He’d said instead.
She’d teased him for it, but dropped the subject.  It might’ve been entertaining to watch him squirm, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.  So she’d simply reminded him that it was alright with her.  Followed by, ‘I mean, you wouldn’t mind if I brought someone here, would you?’ 
He’d stared at her for a minute, his answer not as instantaneous as the last.  His heart lurched to his throat, or perhaps it had been bile, and he found himself biting down on his tongue to keep from speaking too quickly.  His expression hadn’t flickered even for a moment, remaining neutral as she stared at him, awaiting his response.
Yuuta hadn’t said a word.  He simply shook his head, and then left the conversation completely by returning to his studies, hoping that giving his attention back to his textbook would drop the topic.  It had worked, she’d moved on right away, and it hadn’t been brought up since.
Neither one of them had brought a visitor to the apartment, besides their friends who frequented regularly.  There were no dates, no lovers, no visitors of the night snuck in, or even mentioned.  Pondering it now, Yuuta supposes there were very few things she didn’t tell him.  Then again, he didn’t exactly have an interest in knowing those things.  In fact, the mere idea of it had bile rising in his throat.
Yuuta arched a brow at her, silently questioning her train of thought.  Since that conversation early on in their roommate-ship, (y/n) rarely brought up this sort of topic.  Occasionally she had a date, but nothing seemed to last longer than a couple of weeks, and she didn’t talk much about those events in detail.  Always beginning with a simple ‘I have a date tonight’ and later followed up with ‘it didn’t work out’ and a shrug as she’d cozy up to him on this very sofa.  Yuuta never met any of the people she’d go out with.  (y/n) never offered him to.  They left it that way, unspoken, and simple.
Well, it wasn’t all that simple at all.  The nights she’d spend out of the house on these mystery dates Yuuta found himself sitting frozen and staring off into space, letting time lapse slowly as he waited for her return.  A part of him hoped no one ever lingered at the door, so he wouldn’t have to see who it was she spent her time with, who it was that was her type.  
But another part of him, the part that he tried to bury deep down, longed to look one of these men in the eyes, just once.  He wouldn’t even say anything, he was sure he wouldn’t need to.  If he could get one good look at them, he was sure he could make it clear just how undeserving of her time they were.  Because at the end of the day, she had him, and she had him in every way that mattered.  Since they were children, he’d been there, showing her what true love really looked like, felt like.  He was there for every important event and milestone.  He was here now, sharing a living space with her.  And he’d be there for everything that came next.  Because he cared about her.  Because he loved her.
And when she had him the way that she did, wrapped around a perfectly manicured finger, how could anyone else be remotely deserving of her? 
The gears in Yuuta’s mind are operating as fast as they can, spinning and whirring as he tries to decipher where exactly she’s going with this.  But the alcohol in his system has him under a haze, and he realizes he has yet to give her an answer to her question.
He clears his throat, and his lips twitch into an amused smile as he locks eyes with her.
“Is kissing the true evaluation of roommates?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that has her blushing and rolling her eyes at him.  
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as the back of her hand smacks into his shoulder, the action soft, as though she were trying to be gentle with him, as though he were fragile, even with his broad shoulders and lean muscle built into his body.
He can’t help but tease again, for the sole purpose of seeing her continue to fluster before him.  The idea of making her forget how to behave around him after all this time has his heart skipping a beat, and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes.
“What exactly are the Zen’ins feeding you, hm?” He asks, and she struggles to look him in the eye now.
“I wasn’t trying to suggest- they just- they got in my head…” She huffs defeatedly, her bottom lip sticking outwards in a small pout.  Yuuta’s eyes catch the plump pink skin, and they linger there for a moment longer than they should’ve before meeting her gaze again.  Her eyes have noticeably widened, proving he’d been caught, but he doesn’t feel as much anxiety about it as he should have.
“So what,” He speaks curiously.  “Are you asking me to kiss you?”
A small laugh escapes her, a tinkly little sound that is exhaled with the breath she’d been holding.  Yuuta’s lips quirk upwards at the nervous response, his excitement getting the best of him the longer he watches her shift her gaze and fluster.  Why this had been on her mind, he didn’t quite understand, but in their current predicament, he didn’t care too much to peel it back layer by layer.
“I didn’t-” (y/n) starts to shake her head, but her uncertainty overcomes her and she tries to switch gears.  “I don’t know… I guess they made me sort of… curious” She admits bashfully.  Her eyes focus on her fiddling hands in her lap before turning the question onto him.  “Is that weird?” Her voice is quiet again.  “Have you ever… I dunno… thought about it?” 
The hand that he had resting before her shoulder reached out then, fingertips barely grazing along the soft material of her cable knit sweater.  His gaze followed the motion as his fingers twitched and moved further on their own accord, stopping at the hem of the neckline, just before skin could touch skin.  He looks back at her, surprised to find her attention locked on him again.
All of the fucking time, his brain is so loud it almost overpowers the heartbeat pouding in his ears.  I don’t think I’ve ever truly stopped thinking about you.
“I suppose you’ve got me thinking about it now” Is what he says, quiet and smooth, although the blush on his cheeks betrays him and makes him appear a little softer than he was going for.  (y/n’s) lips twitch into a smile nonetheless, relieved again that he hadn’t made a fool out of her for admitting such a thing.
When she leans closer to him, his fingers finally graze against the side of her neck, and he wastes no time in sliding his large hand around the nape of her neck, not quite pulling her any closer than she’d already brought herself, but the presence of his hand is firm, making sure she won’t distance herself too soon.
“Do you want to?” She asks, her eyes lighting up with an excitement he’d sparked as soon as he’d validated her curiosities.  Her voice holds the silly eagerness of a girl much younger than she is.  A schoolgirl with a crush, Yuuta thinks to himself as he eyes her bright eyes and slowly growing grin.
The hand on her knee flexes with anticipation, giving her leg a slight squeeze.  He wants to say all the right things, he wants to do all the right things, because jesus christ this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Yuuta could not afford to waste even a second of it.  He wanted to commit it all to memory, her soft voice, the smell of her perfume, the curve of her lips, the stars in her eyes- there was so much of her to take in, and not nearly enough time for him to adore it all properly.  With hooded eyes he studied every feature as best he could, wishing he could slow down time, or even freeze it altogether.
“Yeah,” He mumbles, and the word drawls out of his mouth in a long sigh as his eyes move between hers and her lips with a longing she’d never seen on him before.
If she didn’t know any better, (y/n) might have thought that look was desperation.
“Yeah, I want to,” He repeats a little louder, and he moves closer to her then, invading her space and clouding all of her senses with him.
His eyes, dark from how blown out his pupils had grown, his low almost raspy voice, the lingering remains of his musky cologne, the way his tongue barely poked out of his mouth to wet his lips- her heartbeat was racing, and her hand trembled as she reached out to place it against his collarbone.  Her touch was feather light, almost experimental despite having touched him on plenty of occasions before, just never quite like this.
Her long lashes flickered quickly as she too struggled with where to look.  When their gaze caught in passing, Yuuta gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze, silently instructing her to hold his stare.
“You’re sure?” He asks softly, and she almost laughs at how thoughtful the question is.  How thoughtful he is.  But she doesn’t.  Instead, she gives him a sweet smile and a shrug of her shoulders.
“It’s just a kiss, right?” She murmurs, blissfully unaware of just how worked up Yuuta’s gotten himself over the prospect of just a kiss.  
He doesn’t wait for further confirmation.  He simply draws her closer by the back of her neck.  Her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her chin forward in the most miniscule of movements, and yet he can read her anticipation with ease.
Her breath hitches in her throat, and Yuuta’s closing the rest of the distance as his lips touch hers.
For half a second they’re both frozen, paralyzed by the sudden fear that there was no taking this back, there was no going back from this.  (y/n’s) blood ran cold in that brief moment, worried that Yuuta also realized this was a grave mistake.
But then his mouth moves over hers.  His warm lips catch hers with a soft yet determined kiss, and she gives into every temptation that consumes her.
Her hand presses into his chest a little harder, before her fingers are curling into the soft cotton of his tee shirt.  Her other hand falls against his shoulder when he tugs her closer in a moment of thoughtless desire.  Yuuta pulls her by her knee, sliding her closer until her legs drape completely across his, the curve of her ass flush with his thigh.  As soon as he does it he panics again that he’s made a mistake and taken this experiment of a kiss too far, but she responds so eagerly, with a quiet hum against his mouth and her hand curling around his neck as she deepens their kiss.
For a kiss on a whim between friends, (y/n) kisses him with the fervor of a woman starved, and Yuuta internally struggles on where the boundary between them currently lies.  His hand twitches on her thigh, squeezing the plush of her leg and aching to move, to explore the rest of her warm and inviting body, to touch her everywhere he could reach.  He has to hold her a little tighter just to fight the urge.
(y/n) is less worried about taking strides across the gray area of a boundary between them.  The hand on his neck slides into his hair, scratching at his scalp before her fingers tangle into the dark tresses.  She gives it a small tug, and his lips part against hers as he gasps, before chuckling quietly at her curiosity.  He feels her smile against him before she’s pressing closer again.  Her tongue darts over his swollen bottom lip, and she gives him no time to react to the hot and wet sensation before she’s capturing his lips again.
Yuuta wasn’t sure what he should’ve predicted when they’d drunkenly admitted to sharing a curiosity for kissing one another, but he hadn’t expected this.  Her hands have a tight hold on him, on his shirt and in his hair, and her sweet, cranberry flavored lips feel relentless as she slots them into his again and again.  He supposes he’s treating this little experiment the same, meeting each of her kisses with the same amount of heated excitement.  He tries not to think about when he’s supposed to stop, when he’s supposed to pull away and say ‘well that answers that.  Goodnight!’.  So for now he pretends that moment won’t come.
On the other hand, (y/n) knows she should stop.  She knows she should pull away from his addictive lips and release her shackles from him before she gets carried away.
But she’s already too far gone, isn’t she?
Shakily, she releases his shirt, and her hand blindly maps across his shoulder, then down his arm.  Her touch is light but the tips of her fingers burn across his skin.  His muscles are taut, and she wonders if he’s flexing to be impressive or if he’s filled with so much anticipation he’s fighting the urge to go further.  When her hand reaches his it stills, and she presses her palm into the back of his hand where it lies on her leg.
A shudder escapes her and she pants softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss as she grabs his hand a little tighter, and moves it.
Yuuta breaks away instantly, wide eyes meeting hers and an apology on the tip of his tongue.  But before she can pull his hand away from her, he realizes she’s holding it to place it somewhere else, not to pull it away.
She blinks her eyes open lazily as she sits up further, curving one of her legs across his lap, setting her knee down beside his hip.  Yuuta follows her movements in a daze, his hooded eyes flitting across her body as he watches her straddle his lap and settle back into him carefully.  She’s slow, agonizingly slow, giving him ample time to halt her, to say the word that he was done and his curiosity had been satiated.
He doesn’t.
Her hand pushes his again, guiding it up to her waist, and then down over her hip.
“This okay?” She mumbles, and his gaze moves from where she’s still lowering his hand.  He tilts his head back as he looks up at her, and the look in his eyes has her melting right in his lap.  Her free hand spreads out over his chest, fingers stretching as far as she can reach to feel as much of his heated skin through his tee shirt as she could.
He looks at her with his pupils so blown they almost eat up every last splash of blue in his irises.  His lips are swollen and parted as he takes in quiet, heavy breaths.  He nods at her lazily, drunkenly, and she wonders if it’s from the alcohol or from her.
When she pushes his hand under her ass, she doesn’t have to guide him any further.  He squeezes into the supple flesh right away.  She giggles quietly before his other hand is pulling her into him again and smashing her lips against his.
They’re much closer now, it had taken little to no effort for him to pull her into his chest, and their hips collided at the sudden movement.
All she thinks about as she tangles her hands in his hair and parts her lips for his tongue to lazily explore her mouth are those couple of times she’s caught him in a towel fresh out of the shower.  How she’d scurried into her room and tried to ease her mind of the dark thoughts he’d made blossom.  She thinks about how there hadn’t been anything to quite satisfy those thoughts.  Ignoring them did nothing, acting on them in the safety of her room and her hand down her panties made them worse, and even now she feels tortured by the image, making her ache for more, more, more.  Nothing was quite enough.
His teeth sink into her bottom lip and she whimpers, her brows pinching as her hips stutter against her will.  She feels as though she should apologize for grinding on him so shamelessly, she could feel what this makeout session was doing to him after all, but he doesn’t seem to want an apology.  His hands grip her hips and he pulls her down again, dragging her slowly over the growing hardness in his pants with a low groan.
The guttural sound reverberating from his chest only spurs her on, and she complies with the rhythm he sets on her hips, slow and painful.  Their kiss breaks as she lets out a few soft pants, but she never fully catches her breath as she grinds into him.
She can’t help but peek her eyes open at him, falling in love with the way his eyes are screwed shut and his lips are parted as small moans fall from his mouth.  The sight makes something spark send a jolt of pleasure down her tummy and to her core.  She knew she should’ve given him a quick peck of the lips and called it a night, because she’s not sure she could muster the strength to stop where she so desperately wanted this to go.
As though annoyed that she’d stopped kissing him for too long, Yuuta pulls her in again, his hand curling around the back of her neck as his lips plant hot kisses down her throat.  A high pitched gasp escapes her as his mouth drags along her skin between each kiss, and her hands are curled into his long hair again.  Her hips stutter in their pace, but he has no issue with grabbing them tighter and guiding them back through his favorite rhythm.
His mouth lingers at what little of her collarbones are exposed, leaving wetter kisses there as he appreciates them as fully as he could, before traveling up the side of her neck.  His teeth barely graze the sensitive skin, and he’s dying to mark up every inch of her, but he restrains himself from doing so, instead compromising for lingering nips and gentle sucks against her skin.
“So fucking beautiful,” He praises in a husky murmur, biting down on a particularly sensitive spot just under her jaw.  He’s rewarded with a sudden rut of her hips and a pretty little moan as she angles her head further back to expose more of her neck to him.  He soothes the spot with a painfully slow drag of his tongue before kissing it sweetly.  “So perfect, so perfect f’me” 
The praise sends her into a dizzy spell so strong she’s not sure she’s still on earth with him.  This must be another universe, maybe heaven, maybe a dream.  Her fingers fall from his hair, tugging at the collar of his shirt with an irritated whine.
When she tugs a few more times and he doesn’t get the hint, she throws her hands against his chest defeatedly.
“Yuu” She whines, and the sound of his name has his dick twitching in his pants, which he’s certain she could feel.  His face flushes with embarrassment, but she just as quickly grinds into him with a roll of her hips.
He hums questioningly against the side of her neck, before tilting his head and kissing his way to the other side to give it attention too.  She sighs, half irritated, half pleasured, as he sweeps her hair to the other shoulder with one brush of his hand.  (y/n) continues to paw at his shirt, bunching up as much material at his shoulders as she could, her desperate attempts were weak, barely exposing the skin of his abdomen.  When he still didn’t comply with her unspoken desire, she opted to reach for the skin that she could get her hands on.
Yuuta’s abs tensed and he shuddered as her fingers ghosted over the exposed skin.  At first she barely trailed her fingertips over the muscle, but watching him twitch and shiver had her eager to slide her hands up his stomach, eagerly mapping their way up his chest, and pushing the rest of his shirt upwards on their mission.
His face is completely red as he watches her heavy gaze admiring his body.  He wants to laugh and remind her that she’s seen him without a shirt many times before now, and he’s never seen her look at him like this, but her eyes are darkened with lust and his voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, when the hem of his tee shirt is bunched up at his chest, he leans forward off the couch cushion, and takes his hands off of her hips so he could grab his shirt from the back, lifting it over his head in one quick yank.  (y/n) watches with her lip between her teeth as his hair falls back in his face, and he’s left shirtless before her.
The idea of slowing this down now is far from either of their minds.  She hums with appreciation as her hands smooth along his collarbones, fingers drawing loopy shapes into his skin as they travel down his chest, slowly exploring the skin she’d been fantasizing about for weeks now.  His blush runs down his neck and stops just short of his collarbones, and (y/n) admires every inch of it.
Eventually her stare is too intense and Yuuta begins to stir, wrapping his hands around her hips once more to pull her against his chest before his lips meet hers.  It’s a slow kiss at first, and her tongue brushes over his in a way that almost feels sweet.  He could still taste the vodka and cranberry juice in her mouth, and he swears it's enough to get him buzzed.  But as his hands climbed her hips and dipped below the hem of her sweater, she picked up her pace, and he could feel quick puffs of air from her nse hitting his cheek.
She’s getting worked up again, and he’s eager to see just how far he could push her before she gives in completely.
He pulls her in close enough that her hands dart back into his hair, gripping at the back of his head tight enough that he couldn’t tear his lips from hers if he wanted to.  Not that he’d want to, with how drunkenly she’s sucking at his lower lip and whimpering into his mouth with every roll of her hips.
Learning she’s so vocal when she’s turned on was a mistake on Yuuta’s part.  Because now all he longed to do was find all the right things that made her tick and do it more.  Every strained whine and whimper was music to his ears, wordless praise that he was doing something right, and he’d be damned before he found every spot that had her making those sweet noises for him.
Calloused hands roam over her abdomen, feeling it dip as she inhales sharply, and smirking against her mouth when he reaches higher, skimming the hem of her bra.
Unlike him, she wastes no time at all.  Leaning back from their kiss abruptly, and grabbing her oversized sweater from the bottom and pulling it over her head with great urgency.  Yuuta’s eyes fall to her chest instantly, wide and eager as they take in the simple red bra and how pretty the color makes her tits look.  The thin lace on the edges complimenting the swell of her chest so beautifully he hopes he commits this image to memory.
Now it’s her turn to fluster and blush while he unabashedly stares.  And she could tease him, remind him that he’s seen her in a bikini, that this was the same amount of skin he’s been gifted to see before, but she finds herself growing bashful under his heavy gaze.  She can feel the way his eyes take a mental picture of her before he finally leans forward to enjoy the exposed skin further.
“Fuck,” He mumbles, lips brushing over her clavicle before kissing downwards, between the valley of her breasts.  “You really are s’fucking beautiful, y’know that?” His words are slurred as his hands roam up her sides and hesitate just before reaching her chest.  “Can I touch you, pretty girl?” 
The praise and pet name swirl in her mind in a sweet haze that gets her high.  She gives a soft mhm and a nod of her head before his hands gently cup over her chest, squeezing with a surprising softness into the warm flesh.  Yuuta continues to kiss along the exposed skin he could reach, her collarbones, the swell of her tits, her shoulders, his lips dragged over every inch, making sure to disperse his attention diligently.  
“So beautiful,” He sings praises between each kiss, noticing the way it has her squirming in his lap.  “So perfect, every part of you” 
He grabs her hands by the wrists, pulling them up to his shoulders, until her fingers twitch and reach for his hair again.  Her hips roll over his with a quiet moan.  He lifts his head at the noise, a lazy smirk on his lips as he gazes up at her.  She furrows her brows at him as she moves her hips again, trying to get more friction between them.
His hands squeeze her tits simultaneously, before his left thumb drags over the thin material covering them, finding her hardened nipple with ease and rolling over it teasingly.
“Yuuta,” She sighs, tilting her head at him as her gaze drags slowly down his body, the desire in her eyes obvious.  
It made the room thick with sexual tension, and they both only grew hotter in temperature the longer this was dragged out.  When her eyes met his again it was undeniable what she was thinking.  Her every want and desire was clear solely from her eyes focused on his, and how her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him close to her face, but not quite kissing him.
His hands slid up her chest, fingertips prodding at the lacy cups of her bra until it gave way and he could slide his hands over the soft skin beneath.  Her bottom lip quivers with what she wants to say next.
“Yuu, I-” 
A sharp rap of a fist against their door has them jolting back to reality with a harsh swivel of both heads turning towards the sound.  Without thought Yuuta’s hands fall to her waist and he pulls her into him, instinctively covering her barely exposed body if someone was to let themselves into the apartment.  But the door doesn’t move, and the knocking persists.
“What the- it’s two in the morning,” (y/n) mumbles with a brow furrowed in confusion.  “Who could-?” 
The pair lock eyes as realization floods over them at the same time.  Oh.
“Shit” Yuuta curses, and (y/n) quickly scurries off of his lap as she begins searching for their discarded articles of clothing.  
Yuuta’s faster, tossing her a shirt and pulling one on for himself as he gets up off the couch and quickly heads for the door.  He glances down at his pants with a wince, trying to adjust the obvious hard on, but to no use.  He tugs as far as he can at the hem of his sweater to cover it.  It’s a half decent job, and as he approaches the door he hopes it’s enough to hide it.  He gives (y/n) a quick look to make sure she was decent.
She’s still sitting on the couch, her head peeking over the cushions curiously as he goes to open the door.  Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are flushed, both obvious giveaways to what she’s been up to for the last fifteen minutes.  Yuuta’s sure he doesn’t look any better, and his hands rush to his head to smooth his hair down before he finally grabs the door knob and swings it open.
“What?” He greets Toge with more annoyance than usual, and the blonde on the other side of the door raises a brow at the tone.
Lavender eyes sweep over Yuuta’s flushed face and messy hair.  He points into the apartment, vaguely towards the living room.  Yuuta steps aside, letting his friend in for whatever it was he’d forgotten.
Toge gives (y/n) a friendly smile and waves as he strides into the living room.  She returns the smile with weak lips.
Their visitor grabs a hoodie off of the arm chair to the left of the couch, something neither (y/n) or Yuuta had noticed left behind.  He shrugs it on and stuffs his hands into the cozy fleece-lined pocket with a satisfied smile before waving goodbye to (y/n) and walking out of the room just as quickly.
“Sorry I didn’t notice it sooner,” Yuuta says sheepishly as Toge passes.  “I could’ve brought it to you tomorrow” 
Toge waves a dismissive hand, before twirling his finger around and shrugging.  He must’ve still been in the area, Yuuta realizes.
He’s about to step out the door and leave without a catch, but he hesitates just as he steps over the threshold, his eyes doing a double take as he notes the dark green cable knit sweater Yuuta’s wearing.
His eyes linger on the article of clothing, brows pinching with familiarity, before he lifts his gaze to Yuuta’s, who’s also suddenly aware of the shirt he was wearing.
Before he can stop himself, Yuuta’s head is swiveling to where (y/n) was still watching them both from the couch.  She’s sporting a tee shirt too loose on her frame to be hers.  Toge follows Yuuta’s gaze, his eyes widening with realization.
“Anyways!” Yuuta clears his throat as he turns back to Toge with a grin so forced his cheeks hurt.  “I’ll see you later?” 
Toge opens his mouth, a grin of his own forming and a small laugh coming from his throat, but before anything could be said, Yuuta was ushering him through the rest of the doorway, already trying to shut the door in his face.
“Yeah, later, goodnight, Toge!” 
The door closes a little harsher than he meant it to, the frame shaking as the latch clicks into place.  Yuuta locks it just as quickly, before groaning and hitting his head against the wood.  It felt like his heart was beating in his throat.  He worried he might throw up from the anxiety coursing through his veins.
“That was close,” (y/n) says quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.  
He’s too anxious to look at her.  He squeezes his eyes shut and stays put against the door.  Distantly, he remembers his dick is still hard.
He can hear (y/n) stirring, getting up from the couch and padding closer to him.  She pauses just before she reaches him.
“Do you think he noticed the shirts?” She asks quietly.
Yuuta sighs, finally lifting his head from the door only to throw it back and stare at the ceiling.  He doesn’t want to see how worried he’s sure his expression looks.  He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea about the regret pooling in his stomach.
“Probably” He admits in a quiet groan.
(y/n) shuts her eyes as she winces, covering her face with her hands.
The tension in the room is no longer due to sexual desire overtaking their inhibitions.  It was awkward.  Painfully awkward.
“I feel so stupid,” She mumbles into her hands.
Yuuta’s head snaps towards her, taking in the shame in her body language.  His heart sinks towards his stomach.  Had they made a massive mistake? (y/n) drags her hands down her face before looking up at him, her brows drawn together with a knot of worry between them.  Had he made a massive mistake? 
“I am so- I’m so sorry,” She tells him weakly.  “I shouldn’t have- that was- I was-” 
She can’t even finish a thought, much less an explanation on how ridiculously impulsive and embarrassing that was.  Her face is growing pale and she feels sick to her stomach.  She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined one of the greatest friendships she’s ever had over a silly conversation with the Zen’in twins about a silly crush.  She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined the perfect living situation with the perfect roommate over a crush that probably would've gone away on it’s own had she just handled it maturely.
“It’s okay-” He starts to say, trying to find the right way to explain to her that he wasn’t upset in the slightest about what happened between them.  He’d only been embarrassed about practically getting caught.  He knew their friends well, and he was sure that Toge wasn’t the only one to notice the swap of shirts.  Surely Maki and Mai had already been given an earful about the whole ordeal.
Before he can say anything else, (y/n’s) cutting him off.
“I should go to bed,” Her voice is too soft to overpower his, but he shuts up as soon as she speaks.  “I’m… I’m really sorry, Yuuta,” 
His eyebrows furrow as he takes in her sad, apologetic eyes.  She really meant it.  She really felt guilt over what had happened.  His stomach twists with disturbance, and fear.
“Please forgive me, I… I hope you can forget about… that” 
Forget? No…
But she’s turning away from him, running her hands through her hair in a stressful manner as she quickly darts for her room.  Yuuta’s left standing at their door, wide eyed and open mouthed in his shock.
Did that all really just happen? 
His palm comes up to cover his mouth, the realization settling into his bones and making his blood run cold.
God, it did, it really did.
He’s slow as he puts the switch remotes back on the console to charge, before turning off all the lights and going to his own room.  He unzips his pants and kicks them off somewhere in his room before crawling into bed, not bothering to change into something proper to sleep in, or take off the sweater he’d accidentally stolen.  He lays on his back, eyes focused on the blank ceiling of his bedroom as he replays it all over and over in his mind.
(y/n) also sits awake in her bedroom.  But she’s far from frozen.  She repeatedly kicks the covers off herself before tugging them back on, undecided on if she was hot or cold.  She’d abandoned her pants and laid awake in Yuuta’s tee shirt, the scent of his cologne and something else that was distinctly him still clinging to the fabric.  Tears welled in her eyes as she curled in on herself, hugging her pillow to her chest in a desperate attempt to seek comfort.
Neither one of them gets much sleep. ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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cassidyafton · 5 months ago
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EARLY WARNING SIGNS OF GHOSTLY POSSESSION: CHAPTER 1
Summary: Freddy's crash in December wasn't an isolated incident.
Chapter summary: Freddy's technicians find a disturbing file in his system after a sudden system overload causes him to crash.
Chapter content warnings: Allusions to gore and child death
The trouble began in March- if you asked Anna Kwento, at least.
Truth be told, Anna didn’t care for her job too much. Not little enough to neglect making sure it was done right, but little enough to be deathly bored whenever she didn’t have a (generally uninteresting, as a rule of thumb) operation to supervise.
The glorified Roombas they called S.T.A.F.F bots weren’t working as optimally as the company had hoped, though, which meant that Anna was scheduled and called in regularly to supervise… everything. In general.
It was not the most entertaining use of her time.
So, as she did during most of her shifts, she sat and absently scrolled through her Twitter feed, absently taking in the garbage on her page and her surroundings both at once. She half paid attention as a little girl, about six to nine, approached her, but paid her no mind, assuming she’d get along on her way soon enough.
She didn’t.
Anna put her phone away.
“Hey, kiddo! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex.” Anna smiled as much as she could as she crouched down to the level of the little girl- who, now that Anna had a better look, appeared just about 7 or 8 years old. “What’s your name?”
A simple script- a confused or lost child approaches her. She smiles, welcomes them, and asks their name. Not overbearing, but not intimidatingly cold.
When they say their name, she parrots it back to them, says something nice, and asks if they need help to make them feel welcome and able to trust her to help them.
“M-Molly,” The girl managed, twisting and intertwining her fingers anxiously.
“It’s great to meet you, Molly!” Anna replied, taking in the kid’s appearance. She was dressed in a blue dress with a red tulle outer skirt and black shoes, and her blonde hair was pulled into pigtails, sporting orange streaks at each side of her bangs. “You look lovely today. Do you need something?”
“Not me.”
Anna’s smile fell. “Pardon?”
“I don’t need anything. It’s Freddy. There’s a problem with him.”
“A… a problem?” Anna echoed, frowning.
Molly nodded. “A problem,” She repeated. “He’s being scary.”
Anna felt the blood drain from her face.
“…Scary how?”
Molly swallowed, balling her fists around her fancy skirt, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “He’s not moving right. He’s just standing and making weird noises and breathing kinda scary.”
Her breath hitched.
“Freddy doesn’t breathe, Molly,” Anna said in an attempt to be reassuring. “He’s just a robot. There’s no reason to be afraid.”
“But he’s being scary,” Molly whimpered, looking ready to burst into tears. “He’s not supposed to be moving and talking like that!”
“H-hey, it’s okay!” Anna said quickly. “These things happen sometimes. Here, I can go take a look- I’m supposed to check up on everything in a minute anyway. Why don’t you come with me?”
Molly sniffled, then nodded, trailing behind Anna as they walked.
“Have you been here before, Molly?” Anna asked, trying to keep Molly happy so she didn’t make a scene.
Molly shook her head. “I’m on spring break at school now. Mama took Jack, Laney and I as a special day.”
“That’s great. Have you guys been having fun?”
“Jack and Laney think this place is silly. But I like it.”
“Well, I’m glad you do. I’m sure your friends will warm up to it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course! I mean, you think this place is cool, don’t you? What’s your favorite part?”
“Freddy.”
Anna grimaced. “…What about a second favorite? Any other characters, parts of the restaurant? The arcade? Maybe the play area or the raceway?”
“I don’t like any of the other characters as much as Freddy,” Molly complained.
“Not even a second favorite?”
Molly hummed, seeming to consider the idea. “Roxy! She’s all super cool with her raceway and everything! Is her keyboard real?”
“Of course,” Anna lied, knowing her boss would have her head for breaking the illusion to a child. “How else would she play it?”
“Mhm! Jack says it’s a fake, but I think he’s just lying to make it seem dumb.”
Molly smiled proudly, and Anna let herself relax a bit, feeling that she’d managed to handle the situation well enough.
At least, until they approached Rockstar Row, and Anna became aware of the chatter of a crowd of children who seemed to be crowding around Freddy.
So much for not making a scene.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Go ahead and play with your friends now, okay?”
Molly nodded and hurried away, clearly still disconcerted by what she’d seen.
The crowd of children all crammed together, faces pressed against the glass opening to Freddy’s green room, barely parted for Anna to pass through, leaving her to struggle and worm her way to the front.
Just like Molly had said, Freddy was still, just twitching, his shoulders sort of rising and falling like something trying to breathe, and Anna could hear strange noises, muffled by the glass wall.
She felt sick.
“Okay, everyone!” She called once she’d finally forced her way up. “Freddy’s having a bit of a bad day. Everything’s fine, but we’re going to need some space to handle it. If anyone knows what happened, let me know, and then hurry along so I can call one of our technicians to take a look, okay?”
She heard a sudden clank from inside, and glanced out of the corner of her eye-
Was Freddy… looking at her?
“Come on now, kids, we’ve gotta check up on Freddy, okay?”
Finally, the children began to disperse, leaving behind only three- two younger, and one who appeared about fourteen, dressed in all black with black and blonde hair.
“Do you three know if anything happened?” Anna prompted. “Did anyone do something? Was anything weird happening?”
“I saw it from the outside, if that helps at all,” The girl chimed in.
“Honey?”
She looked down at the little boy who’d called for her attention.
“If you’re gonna be talking to her, can we go?”
“No,” Honey said simply. “This place is too big. You can stay in this hall, but if I catch you leaving your mom’ll have my head.”
“But no other kids our age have to be followed around like this!”
“No other kids your age have a track record of getting lost half as long as yours,” Honey scolded. “You’re staying here until I finish.”
The boys grumbled and trudged off disappointedly.
“Don’t go trying to leave because you think I won’t see,” She called after them, then redirected to Anna. “I’m so sorry about that. You know how kids can be.”
Anna nodded in understanding.
“My name’s Honey Fitzgerald. I saw when he malfunctioned, so I’ll do my best to help. Let’s see…
I guess I didn’t really see what happened before it, but I heard this really nasty sound, like microphone feedback. When I looked over to check, the lights inside were flickering, and the ones in his eyes were, too. On top of that, he was moving weirdly, and making weird sounds beyond the feedback noise- like he was trying to breathe.”
“But you don’t know why?”
“Um… no. I mean… the light flickered over the Bonnie sign and went out after it started. Maybe the lights are going wrong and it triggered an audio glitch? I’m not too big on computers, sorry.”
Anna hesitated, mulling over the thought.
Finally, she nodded. “I’ll pass that along. Thanks.”
Honey nodded and headed off to find the boys she seemed to be accompanying.
Now that the area was empty, Anna turned around and looked at Freddy once again.
He was staring at her, no doubt about it.
And…
Even though the animatronics were bolted down in their green rooms to prevent any accidents, one of his legs was off the bolts, and he was standing differently.
With shaky hands, Anna reached for her walkie-talkie.
“Can I get Raha Salib to Rockstar Row? I’ve got a problem.”
-
“Okay, okay. Run the story by me one last time?”
“Freddy was bolted down in his green room, and there were kids in there. But then he just stated glitching. The girl I talked to didn’t know why. She said he just started moving weirdly, making sounds like microphone feedback and breathing, and the lights started flickering. It freaked a bunch of kids out, and I had to tell them it was totally normal.”
“Which is why we shut the curtain and locked the door for his room instead of putting up the out of order sign,” Raha finished, relatching Freddy’s face. She wiped her forehead of the small sweat droplets forming and readjusted her purple hijab.
“I guess I was hoping it is just something small.”
“It is,” She said finally. “Something is taking up too much RAM. That explains the movement and audio malfunction- it was trying to clear up space by shutting down programs, and it looked like it freaked out.”
“Should I call in someone else?”
Raha nodded. “I’m more of a physical technology person than a computer programs one.”
Anna nodded, slipping her walkie-talkie from her belt loop again.
“Can we get Nora down in Parts and Service?”
Static crackled on the other end for a moment, then Nora’s voice came through the staticky speaker.
“What do you need?”
“We’ve got a RAM issue with Freddy, causing audio, movement and eyelight glitches. We need you to work through it if you’re free.”
“Don’t you have Raha down there?”
“She isn’t authorized.”
An audible sigh coughed its way through the speaker.
“On my way right now.”
Almost as soon as Nora turned off the receiver, Anna heard the elevator rumbling, then it dinged as the doors open and Nora stepped out.
Anna smiled. Nora may have been constantly annoyed with the entire job, but she did her best to get things done, even if it was just to stay on top of the stress, making her among the more reliable of Anna’s coworkers.
She sighed again, clearly annoyed, as she grabbed an extension cable to connect Freddy to the computer outside the protective area for maintenance.
“An, do me a favor and open up his stomach hatch.”
Anna nodded, slipping her fingers into the crack and prying it open.
“You can head out, Raha. I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks.”
The door opened as Nora entered, and Raha and Anna stepped out.
Nora emerged a moment later and scanned the computer.
“Okay. We’ve got a glitch that caused him to copy an mp3 file and turn it into an mp4, which started running and took up too much space, I think…”
She frowned. “But the ‘happy birthday’ mp3 is only 20 seconds.”
“And how long is the video?”
Nora hesitated, running the mouse over the video file.
“Oh, damn. No wonder he’s having storage issues. It’s almost twenty minutes! Something is definitely screwed up with the computer.”
Nora clicked to delete the file, then entered the protective area.
“If my suspicions are correct,” Nora explained, “It’ll convert another mp3 into a video when I turn it on. It’ll probably cause another crash, but at least I’ll know the source of the…”
“Nora?”
“What?” Nora sighed.
“The video file just reuploaded.”
“…What??”
Anna pointed to the computer, and Nora hurried out.
“It’s the same ‘happy birthday’ mp4 again,” Anna continued. “We might just have to delete both files and reset the system.”
Nora groaned. “I swear to God, these stupid ‘personality’ chips are the worst fucking thing. Couldn’t they just perform the way they do onstage and have that be enough? An, do me a favor and delete the mp4. I don’t want to screw with the mp3 yet.”
“I’m not authorized either.”
“Do it anyway,” Nora retorted, clearly growing increasingly frustrated. “I’ll have your back if you get in trouble for it.”
“Fine.”
As Anna clicked to delete the video, Nora pressed and held Freddy’s power button, forcing him to shut down.
The computer went black, and in the silence, Anna suddenly became aware of the buzzing of the dim lights, and just how much of the large, dark and musty room she had her back turned to.
A chill ran down her spine, and she tried to will herself not to listen to the quiet rustling and skittering behind her.
She gritted her teeth.
Stop it, Anna.
Nora sighed, brushed her fingers through her side-shaved black hair, and pressed the power button.
And Anna couldn’t help the scream that escaped her as both Freddy and the computer sprang to life, letting out an awful noise. Freddy lurched forward, hitting the floor with an ear-splitting crash, and Nora jumped back, barely avoiding getting crushed.
“Holy shit!” Nora cried. “Holy shit!”
Nora was trembling when she exited the area, and for a moment, Anna saw what had happened.
Freddy was on his hands and knees on the ground, his shoulders heaving intensely like he was trying to breathe, complete with those weird wheezing sounds that had been reported. The echoing sound of Freddy hitting the ground with all his might escaped as the door opened.
Freddy was trembling. He looked horrified, his face twisted into the most unexplainable expression, one that should have not been even possible- eyes too wide, eyebrows too twisted, mouth pulled into a grimace too real. He stared blankly in what seemed to be horror, and it was only as Anna tried to take in his expression more that she realized his eyes were completely white.
But a dark fluid was building up in them, dripping down onto the floor below.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” She admitted. “I don’t know what could possibly be causing this!!”
“Can we at least try to get him back to a functional state?”
“I don’t fucking know!!” Nora barked. “Look at that! What do you expect me to do?!”
“Shit, I- I don’t know…!”
“I need to have him out for now. If he reacts to an emergency restart like this-”
“Isn’t there anything else we can do?”
“Look, I’ll work overtime tonight and everything-”
“Nono, I’m just worried you’ll have the manager down your throat-”
“Y’know what, Kwento?! FUCK that asshole!!” Nora shouted suddenly. “FUCK him, I can’t stand this! Impossible tasks on even worse time limits to keep the ‘children’ happy, I can’t deal with it! If that dumb son of a bitch wants to haul his own sorry ass down here and fix it himself in the next ten minutes before the kids start getting impatient instead of putting it all on me, I’ll fucking welcome it.”
Anna hesitated, and the two stood in tense silence.
“I can have him presentable before the day’s end, and that’s it. He won’t be even close to functional until I can have some more time to look at it.”
-
“Is Freddy okay?”
Anna heard the question before she processed what she was seeing- almost fifteen kids were crowded around the door to Freddy’s room, and Anna had to push a few away from the door so they couldn’t try to sneak in.
“Freddy is…”
She hesitated.
“Freddy is fine. He’s just not feeling too well. We’ll have him back before the end of the day, but it might be a while before you guys can play with him again.”
“Aw, what?”
The kids groaned and complained, as though expecting her to relent.
One of the kids, however, said nothing, until everyone had stopped whining.
Once they did, he spoke up.
He spoke so quickly, as though he was trying to avoid attention, that it took Anna a moment to process his question.
“Yeah, what IS wrong with him?” Another kid chimed in.
“We…”
Well, she couldn’t say they didn’t know, not if she didn’t want to make this a bigger problem than it needed to be to the kids.
“We think he’s caught a bug that’s overloading his system a little bit,” She said finally.
A few more voices piped up from the crowd.
“A bug? Is he sick?”
“No, it’s a computer term, idiot.”
“Hey,” Anna scolded. “Don’t talk to each other that way. You could think of it as getting sick. There’s something in him that’s making his body do things it shouldn’t. That’s like getting sick, right?”
“See? I was right!”
“No you weren’t, dumbass! She said that to make you feel better!”
“Hey!” Anna repeated. “That is enough. You do not speak to others that way!”
The kid blushed, clearly embarrassed at being called out.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not the one to be apologizing to,” She responded. “Does anyone have any more questions?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Is Freddy turning evil?”
“What? No!”
“My brother said that the animatronics used to be evil!” The little Molly girl added in. “He said they were haunted and they killed people!”
“Well, he was lying. They’re not evil, and they’re not…”
Freddy had been breathing. Really breathing. He wasn’t just moving erratically, it was with a purpose. And those sounds were coming straight from him, not a speaker or a computer, but him.
And those eyes…
“And they’re not haunted,” She finished firmly. “I promise you, everything is okay.”
-
Damn it.
The one thing Nora Pacheco hated more than her job itself was the stress it put on her. She was overworked with ridiculous expectations, and always had so much on her shoulders. Her manager was useless, her bosses were painfully demanding, and the job itself was so intense, she rarely had a second to breathe.
…Really, she didn’t hate anything more than her job.
And yet, here she was, working overtime at almost midnight to fix this stupid bot.
What kind of glitch even was this? It converted an mp3 to a video file, multiplied the size by nearly sixty, and then started running the file unprompted, leading to an overload and partially shutting down the system.
…Leading to him managing to step off his bolts, and breathe, and overflow and spill that weird black fluid…
Was he being hacked?
Scanning through the files for any other signs of any issues with the mp3 and audio play commands.
But the longer she looked and the less she found, the more it began to look like the ‘happy birthday’ mp4 was completely unrelated to the audio file.
And the preview image in the computer wasn’t the simple black or white background Nora would have expected.
It appeared to be… a person. A child, at that.
An image of a child hue-shifted to red.
Stomach twisting, Nora clicked on the video.
It was blood. Not a color shift, it was blood. Blood and brain matter.
The child was dead.
Unable to tear her eyes away from the kid, she barely processed the shaking hands of an older boy at the corners of the screen. The rest of the older boy was off-camera, but she saw his hands. They trembled and rattled like Nora had never seen, and she could hear a voice that must have been his breathing heavily and sniffling, trying not to sob aloud.
A small cry slipped from him, and Nora’s face fell in horror as he took his hands around the child’s face, first gently holding his freckled cheeks, then digging through his curly hair like he was going to try to fix the breakage.
And then he did.
As the boy let out a sob, Nora heard a split second of the nauseating noise that sounded when his hands were pushed into the child’s injured head, and then-
An error tone rang.
Access to this file was not authorized by your administrator.
Clasping her hands around her mouth, Nora leaned forward, trying desperately not to puke.
She didn’t know what she’d just seen; she didn’t even know how to comprehend it.
Was it a threat? A stupid hoax? Maybe just a scene from some horror movie?
She needed to make sense of this. She needed to understand it. She needed to fix it. She needed help.
She needed to go home.
Freddy blinked, turning to her with an almost saddened expression.
“Alright, Freddy,” She managed, trying to hold back her fear. “What is that? What’s going on?”
She didn’t expect him to answer, of course. She was just trying to keep herself from giving in to her terror. Maybe talking would help her through it, for some reason.
Freddy wasn’t even supposed to be able to answer. She was just running test commands on him. He wasn’t able to hear, process or respond to anything.
But he did.
He cocked his head, and twisted his plastic facial plate. His eyebrows turned upward, his mouth shut tight, and his eyelids turned in, making him look almost hurt.
And he spoke with a voice deeper and raspier than normal.
“I… am not… me.”
-
“Alright, we got a creepy idle mode malfunction from a RAM overload, responding like he’s in idle mode in test mode, fluid leakage, audio glitches, and a video hacked into his system?”
“Not hacked,” Nora corrected. “It was from our network.”
Mark Cho, the tall man who had now taken Nora’s place at the computer, shrugged. “It could’ve been a hack anyway. If they got onto the network first, the video would have been sourced from the same place as all his other files.”
“Fine. Then yes, you’ve got all of it. He said ‘I am not me’ when I asked aloud what was going on. I guess he was trying to cycle through his responses and ended up with that. I think the problem is that video, but…” Nora shuddered.
Mark glanced over at her.
“But every time we try to delete it… it just… uploads again,” She finished. “My… my hypothesis was that it was some sort of glitch converting the mp3 file to a video, but… that video was not his birthday protocol. I don’t know what it was, but…”
“From what you told me, it sounds like it came from a horror movie,” Mark suggested.
“Mark, it was twenty minutes! What movie would have a quarter of its runtime dedicated to that?!”
“Final Destination?”
“You’re not funny, Mark.”
“What about Saw?”
“Cut it out.”
Mark snickered. “Sorry.”
“Right,” Nora sighed. “For the record, I’m not saying I think it was a real kid dying. I just… it’s seriously horrific. And I didn’t see nearly the whole thing. I’m telling you, if it was a hacker, that’s the smallest problem. I can’t for the life of me figure out where they found that footage.”
“Do you think it’s a ghost?”
Nora hesitated. That was about the last thing she’d been expecting to hear, but-
No.
“Cut the crap, Mark.”
“I’m being serious.”
“No, you’re not, you dick.”
“I’m dead serious. It could’ve been a message. It reminds me of that old story of the bite of 1983? They could be trying to stir up crap from the past.”
“Mark, you asshole, that’s not a ghost.”
“Sure it is.”
Nora groaned. As kind as Mark could be, he was also a smartass, and he refused to just speak straight most of the time. He always insisted on joking instead of telling it like it was, and Nora could barely stand it.
“Okay, say it is this ‘ghost’ of yours. How do we get it to stop? Whoever wants to remind everyone of this weird ‘null’ past, how do we get them to cut it out?”
Finally seeming to take it seriously, Mark frowned. “Not sure.”
“I guess we could isolate the file and clear the commands making it take up so much space,” Nora suggested. “Will that keep the ‘ghost’ at bay?”
“I mean…” Mark shrugged. “It’s worth a try. If we can clear that extra data, we can probably get him back in working order.”
“Didn’t answer my question.”
Mark grinned, and Nora rolled her eyes.
But his smile faded.
“Nora, the video deleted just fine once it was in a different folder. Did you not try that?”
“Look, I tried to delete it and it just fucking reuploaded,” Nora shot back. “I don’t know what was going on, but it wasn’t deleting, okay?”
Mark frowned. “It’s fine now.”
“Okay, well it wasn’t last night! None of it makes sense… I’m not making this up, Mark. I’m not crazy.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
“I’m serious, I’m not!!”
“I know!” Mark raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I can handle the rest of this. I don’t think you’re crazy, you just need a break.”
Nora sighed.
She knew Mark was right, but admitting that would feel like, ironically, admitting she was losing her mind.
But she knew she wasn’t.
She knew what she’d seen.
“I am not me.”
She knew this was real.
“Fine, I’ll take a damn break,” She said finally. “But if you come out of this thinking I’m insane, I’m quitting.”
Mark rolled his eyes.
Nora glanced at Freddy again.
Even though she hadn’t moved, he turned and stared back.
…His face didn’t look quite right.
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kayluh1915 · 1 year ago
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psssst, disclaimer…
@swiftllama: *texts me with no context* EVERY BTS THEY GET GAYER AND GAYER
Me after watching said BTS:
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It's Ianthony moment breakdown time, BBY!
I know I've been gone for a while but I've really been going through it, y'all. I want to post more from here on out, but I can't make any promises. Executive disfunction and ADHD paralysis sssuuuccckkkkssss.
Anyways, back to our regularly scheduled screamings!
Also, this is from a members only video. If you can, please support Ian and Anthony directly. I do not share content outside of small Ianthony moments like these.
The noise that came out of my mouth was not human in anyway, shape, or form! Anthony has carried Ian like this before, but it was before his departure. Back then they were really stiff and awkward with each other since their friendship was strained, as they have mentioned several times. Now they're super close and don't give a flying fuck and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!
Sam has been keeping me up to date with everything and I just can't believe the timeline we're in. Everything else might be shit, but at least Ian and Anthony are back together and give us moments like these on the weekly! 😭They keep me sane.
ANYWAYS, I made some gifs of the moment because AHHHH and I'm going to break down the little moments that made my fandom heart flutter
Let's get to it!
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Right off the bat, Ian very minorly freaks out when Anthony picks him up and immediately grips Anthony's arm. Logically, I know that anyone would grab onto the closest thing on instinct in this situation... but my Ianthony brain is screaming: "AWWW! ANTHONY MAKES HIM FEEL SAFE!!!!!!!"
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Okay, my logic brain is calming down now because this gif just confirmed that Ian not only trusts Anthony whole heartedly but also FEELS SAFE! As soon as Anthony reassures him that he won't let him fall Ian relaxes and starts to let go of the death grip he has on Anthony's arm near the end of the gif.
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Another demonstration of how much Ian trusts Anthony. He doesn't even flinch when he lifts him up and even has that face he makes that screams: "yeah yeah, we know Mr. Buff." after Anthony comments on how easy it is for him to hold Ian.
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DUDE! The way Ian just goes limp after Anthony once again lets him know that he's got him. IT'S SO FUCKING CUTE and, again, is proof of how much he trusts him. He knows Anthony won't drop him and just decides to relax for a second, putting his full weight on Anthony's shoulders. I CANNOT! It's so intimate!!! Ian probably also took notes from Rhett's "I'm Dead" move he pulls on Link which I find hilarious.
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Okay, this is my favorite one of this whole gifset. The way Anthony looks back at Ian to make sure he's still comfortable and then smiling to someone about it!?!? BRING AMBERLAMPS! MY HEART HAS STOPPED!
Damn, I needed these two in my life so badly right now. The fact that they pulled THIS SHIT just makes it so much better. I know they've said and done things more damning within the past few months, but I enjoy more intimate moments like these. Yeah, it's for a bit, but it shows just how much Anthony cares for Ian and how much Ian trusts him.
Lord have mercy, I need a nap after all of that. 😮‍💨
168 notes · View notes
monstrouslyobsessed · 10 months ago
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life updates and then some
oh dear, i've been gone for quite a long while, huh? i'm so, so sorry and i really, REALLY do appreciate all of your concerns and sweet messages! it's heartwarming to know that my works are still being loved even in my absence. yall deserves some explanations so ima get right in it.
mild cw ahead: bizarre financial abuse (?), depression, and nongraphic medical concerns.
these past few months were pretty rough, especially with the financial aspects, personal matters, and my health, both mental and physical, had been going downspiral to the point that my writing had become complete nonexistent and that i lowkey hated every word i put down. i won't get into too much of details, but the short of it, an estranged family member (and trust when i say they are estranged for very good reasons) pulled a fast one via some kind of legal fraud (???), which hurts my financial situation and impacted my ability to pay bills. im still a huge wtaf over it, i won't lie, but it is something getting sorted out atm via official and legal means (fun times to be had!!!). im incredibly lucky to be living with a very understanding person though who also got very angry on my behalf so don't worry about my current living situation.
health wise, doctors found something wrong with one of my organs but they couldn't determine the issue. since then, life had been a struggle.
with my health was the first thing to start for me, it's nothing fatal or too life altering, fairly mild imo (so say i with stupidly high pain tolerance, apparently), but it's kind of something i need to keep aware of with my consumption. but boy tis was not fun living with discomforts with my own body for a while. rest just fell into places afterward, unfortunately, but that's how the life go--you'll always have your ups and downs, just cherish the present while you can.
anyway, i can't promise i'll be posting regularly again given my situation(s), not as on a semi-frequent schedule, which absolutely does make me sad because i really do love making monsterfucker contents, not just for myself but for you lovely readers as well. hopefully i'll be back sooner than later. that said…
i do have a super overdue commission i'm going to post very soon! just got one last scene to get through (it's currently at 8.1k words....!) and get it edited and make it pretty--and bam! it'll be done and posted. so do look forward to that, at least.
heck, i'll leave yall with this teaser line at the start of the final scene!
“Let us give them quite a show, hm?”
just gonna...get through pron writing lmao <3 yet again, thank you all so very much for caring and i really do miss you and your kind words. please take care of yourselves, lovelies!
in the meantime, i'm going to clean out my blog a bit and i'll try to reply some of your asks later too. if you have anything random, asking for advice, or anything related to my ocs or my aus, ask away. my inbox is always open for yall <3
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twinkleomorashi · 8 months ago
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Fic update most likely coming tonight btw. More lesbian camping sex for now but trust we will be back to our regularly scheduled piss content very soon. Big plans ahead.
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alterchaos · 9 months ago
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Hey everyone! I come back with a pretty interesting update.
With the new and absolutely INSANE Sonic x Shadow Generations trailer released today, I've decided to make a tough call I've been sitting on for a while. Until the game releases and I play it, the following Alter Chaos stories will now be put on hiatus:
Sonic Adventure 2 (Ark Chronicles)
Sonic Heroes (Hero's Purpose)
Shadow the Hedgehog (Shadow Saga)
I don't plan on doing this for every new game, but there is WAAAAY too much lore-wise that is tying in and I need to see what this is all about before I write myself into a corner and miss out. Also, I may go back and write new drafts/variants of certain chapters depending on what is revealed. Who knows. This may all be for nothing, or maybe it'll be a fresh and exciting direction for Shadow as a character. We'll just have to wait and see.
In the meantime, I plan to put more time and attention on the end of Alter Earth and Metarex Sagas while also continuing to write ahead. I will also be updating the tumblr layout to feature a sort of "table of contents" and proper links to each saga as well as putting the chapters in order. My hope is that this will help all of you navigate who wish to piece together the story, theorize, etc. I also plan to write extra chapters for the Seven Rings Saga to create a more cohesive story as well as re-write the finale to include more crucial and hidden details (trust me, they matter). Hopefully this will bring me to October and I'll have an updated plot, but if not, expect us to properly dive into all the Moonbeast Saga has to offer with regularly scheduled updates. I personally can't wait!
That's all! I will see you soon with more server updates...
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artisthoi · 2 months ago
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sorry for lonely posting chat trust we will get back to our regularly scheduled content soon
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brandeliermediaworks · 5 months ago
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Social Media Posting Strategies: Why Consistency is the Secret Sauce of Success
Social Media Posting Strategies: Why Consistency is the Secret Sauce of Success
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Imagine this: You walk into your favorite coffee shop, but today, instead of coffee, they’re selling socks. Tomorrow, it’s cupcakes. Next week? Yoga mats. Confused yet? That’s what happens when your social media presence lacks consistency. Don’t worry, though—Brandelier Media Works is here to keep your strategy as steady as your caffeine addiction. 
Let’s spill the (social media) tea on why being consistent is cooler than the latest Instagram dance trend. 
 
Social Media Posting Strategies : Why Consistency Matters (Spoiler Alert: It’s a Big Deal) 
Consistency isn’t just about showing up—it’s about showing up like the MVP you are. Here’s why it matters: 
Brand Recognition 101: Ever seen a meme and instantly thought, That’s so [insert brand here]? That’s the magic of consistent posting. Keep showing up, and soon people will know your vibe better than their favorite sitcom catchphrase. 
Algorithm Love Letters: Social media platforms have one true love: active users. Post regularly, and they’ll treat you like royalty, giving your content a prime spot in feeds. Skipping posts? That’s like ghosting your crush—not cute. 
Trust Issues? Not Here: Social media posting strategies, When you consistently post valuable content, your audience starts trusting you. It's like being that friend who always remembers birthdays—not the one who vanishes when the group bill arrives. 
SEO Glow-Up: Regular posting doesn’t just charm your followers; it also woos search engines. Pinterest and YouTube might just send you virtual roses (or better rankings). 
Slow and Steady Wins the Growth: Forget overnight fame—consistency is like planting a garden. Water it daily (aka post regularly), and you’ll reap a lush following that doesn’t wilt under pressure. 
 
The Struggle Is Real (But Fixable) 
We get it—being consistent can feel like running a marathon in flip-flops. Brands often face: 
Content Fatigue: You’ve already posted cute cats, motivational quotes, and throwbacks. Now what? 
Time Crunches: Between meetings, emails, and trying to figure out what Gen Z slang means, who has time to post? 
Strategy? What’s That?: Randomly posting isn’t a plan—it’s chaos with emojis. 
Good news: Brandelier Media Works has a cape (and a plan). 
 
How Brandelier Keeps It Consistent (and Cool) 
Social media posting strategies at Brandelier, we make consistency look effortless. Think of us as your brand’s personal trainers—keeping you on track without all the yelling. Here’s our secret recipe: 
Content Calendars That Slay: We whip up custom calendars so your posts are as organized as your best friend’s wedding Pinterest board. 
Analytics Nerds Unite: We geek out over numbers to figure out what your audience loves, from cat memes to CEO selfies. 
Creative Storytelling Magic: Consistency doesn’t mean copy-pasting the same post 100 times. We mix it up, keeping your audience hooked like the latest Netflix thriller. 
Automated Awesomeness: Scheduling tools? We’ve got ’em. Your posts will go live on time, even if you’re busy bingeing your favorite show. 
Engagement Gurus: We don’t just post and ghost. Our team chats with your followers like it’s a Friday night group text. 
Branding Goals: Fonts, colors, vibes—every post screams YOU. No accidental Comic Sans here. 
 
Social Media Posting Strategies : Pro Tips for Staying Consistent 
Whether you DIY or roll with Brandelier, here’s how to keep your posting game strong: 
Plan Ahead: Treat your social media like meal prep. Planning beats last-minute chaos every time. 
Batch It, Baby: Create a week’s worth of posts in one go. Then pat yourself on the back (or grab a coffee). 
Recycle Like a Pro: That blog you wrote? Break it into Instagram posts, tweets, or even a sassy TikTok. 
Use the Tech: Scheduling tools are your BFF. Post now, relax later. 
Set Chill Goals: Aim for a few solid posts a week instead of burning out faster than a cheap candle. 
 
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themorphine · 4 years ago
Text
The Picnic-Feysand Date <3
So happy to announce that me and @wintersouldier57 teamed up and wrote a feysand fic in celebration of both hitting 100 followers! Go say congrats to @wintersouldier57 SHES AMAZING
It had been a long few weeks for the high lord and lady of the night court. Between their regularly scheduled meetings and taking care of Nyx, things had been hard. They had scarcely found any time for themselves in the midst of it, hardly any to just be together, enjoying each other’s presence. When Feyre wasn’t at a meeting, Rhys was in the Illyrian mountains handling the armies with Cassian. When Rhys was home, Feyre was at the art studio. Their schedules never seemed to line up.
They often spoke mentally, providing each other as much comfort as they could in that capacity, but they soon found that even psychic communication had its limits when it came to comforting one another. Feyre missed the way his arms felt around her, the way he would whisper soothing words into her ear when things became too much to handle. She understood that they had their responsibilities to their court. They were high lord and lady, after all. Still, she was restless. She wanted nothing more than to feel his embrace, nothing more than to drown in a pool of the transcendent love he offered her.
There was a dull ache in her heart that she knew only he could alleviate. She longed for him. She had not known desperation so deep since her days before coming to Prythian. That desperation, that hunger, had burned, but never like this. It had seared from the inside out, but never straight from the heart. Not like this did. This killed slowly, she thought, deliberately. She felt as though she had been traipsing around Velaris with half a soul, never quite able to get comfortable anywhere she went.
She would see him today. For the first time in weeks, everything lined up. Cassian and Azriel had agreed to take Nyx off their hands for the day for what Cassian called “much-needed uncle time”. They would pick him up as soon as she returned home for the day.
She was a bit surprised that Cassian had not said anything, no teasing. She didn't say anything though, she did not want to give him any ideas. He probably does not want to lose any time with Nyx, she thought, and chuckled silently.
“What’s so funny my High Lady? Rhysie has some good jokes for once?” Rhysand must have heard that from wherever he was, because he responded in Feyre’s and Cassian’s head, At least my jokes don't have every female in all of Prythian running for the hills Cassian. Feyre laughed harder, Cassian chuckling as well.
“Well have fun you two, and be sure to be home at a respectable time, and PLEASE use a sound barrier, I do not want to have to explain what noises are being heard all over this cauldron-damned city to this little one.” He said in his most “mother hen” voice, and tickled a giggling Nyx in his arms. Feyre glared at him while he laughed, and Rhys must have said something in his head, for he laughed even harder.
“BYE CASSIAN” Feyre shouted, making a beeline to the door. She could still hear Cassian's laughter,
Once she was outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was a nice day, perfect for a walk in the park or a trip to the market squares. Perhaps she and Rhys could take a walk when he returned. She would love nothing more than to walk through Velaris hand in hand with her mate. She missed simple intimacies like that, little touches.
You look simply delectable in that dress, Feyre darling.
He had spoken into her mind. Could he see her? Where was he? She looked around but could not find him. Suddenly, there was a pressure underneath her knees, lifting her into the air. She yelped, surprised that he had picked her up.After the initial surprise, she spoke;
“You should have given me some warning, you prick.”
He chuckled, “Now what would be the fun in that Feyre Darling?”
She tried her best to look unaffected by the nickname, and replied “The fun would be that I wouldn't have to scream and not fall on my face for all of Velaris to see.”
He put on a face of mock hurt. “You really think I would drop you darling? I would never!”
She glared. “Based on what you did last time, I won't trust you for another 1000 years, 900 if your lucky.”
He laughed harder, burrowing his face in my neck, to try and silence it. Once he calmed he breathed in my neck, savouring her smell.
“If I could bottle your smell I would drink it every day.” He sighed, hugging Feyre tightly, as if she could disappear any moment. And to be honest based on how long they had been apart, they both felt as if they would disappear, but thank the cauldron they wouldn't.
Finally, after all this time, they were together. She smiled as she nuzzled closer to his chest. Through the bond, she could feel the pure happiness coursing through Rhys. Her grin widened as she felt the wind blazing past them.
She wondered where he might be taking her. They hadn’t discussed their plans beyond spending the day together. Wherever they were headed, though, Feyre knew she would love it. She would love it because he would be there with her. For the first time in a long while, she was home. An unyielding warmth welled up in her heart in the place of the ravenous longing she had been experiencing before. She was with Rhys now, and all was well, at least for the day.
She looked down and watched the vibrant landscape of Velaris fly by beneath them. She could easily fly herself, but she didn’t want to. At least for now, she wanted to be held by him. Judging by the way his arms were wrapped around her more tightly than usual, it was clear that he was enjoying it too. There was something about him holding her like that. It always gave her butterflies, no matter how long they had been together. Even with the centuries stretching out before them, she could be sure that that would never change. Not this, and not the way they felt for each other. She would always look at him as though he had hung the very stars that shone above Ramiel on the Night Court’s insignia, and he would always look to her and see his darling mate, his salvation.
They continued their flight. When he landed and sat her on her feet, she mourned the close contact. She took in their surroundings. They stood on a hill overlooking the city. From the vantage point, she could see it all. She saw the rainbow and the Sidra, twinking as it reflected the sun’s light. What she took the most note of, though, was the blanket laid out on the grass, a small basket sitting at its center.
A picnic.
Rhys had planned a picnic.
She didn’t realize it was possible to love him more than she already did.
He watched her intently, taking in the shift in her expression. He grinned widely. He loved seeing her like this, happy and content. For once, she looked her age. She looked like the 20 year-old girl she was, and without eyes that looked haunted or scared. Their duties could wait. Right now, as they stood on this hill, things were for once simple. The world was quiet, save for the slight breeze that occasionally brushed against their ears. They were happy. War and politics be damned.
“Happy, my love?”
She looked down to find that her hand was glowing. It seemed that her body was speaking for itself. Instead of answering, she took a few steps toward him, placing her shining palm on the side of his face, stroking his cheek. His violet eyes were alight with the spark of love. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t like things had been recently. It wasn’t the quick kiss of someone trying to make time between meetings or the kind of kiss she would give him as she passed him on the way to feed Nyx. The kiss they now shared was sweet, unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world to stand there and relish in what they were feeling.
After what felt like a millenia, he slowly pulled away from her, once again meeting her eyes.
“I’ve missed that,” he said.
“I’ve missed you,” Feyre replied, tears brimming in her eyes. But she was smiling, a broad, indestructible smile that made Rhys look at her in wonder
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Rhys motioned to the blanket.
“Let’s get more comfortable.”
They made their way over to the blanket and they sat next to one another. She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. With his other arm, he reached for the basket, producing several sandwiches and a container of what she assumed was some sort of stew. He sat the food in front of them before he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on her hair.
She knew she was likely still glowing. She didn’t need to look down to know. Rhys picked up one of the sandwiches and held it to her lips. She took a bite, savoring the taste. She quickly realized where she had tasted it before. It was one of the sandwiches from her favorite restaurant. She beamed. Her clever, loving mate had gone there and procured it for her, just to make her happy. She recalled a time when such a thing would have been an ordeal, a time when her former lover had refused to so much as let her leave the house. She wished more than anything that she could go back in time and tell that girl that this was waiting on the horizon, that such a love awaited her beyond all the turmoil.
He put a hand on her hair, lightly stroking it as he held up the sandwich once again for her. She took another bite, turning slightly.
“I can feed myself, you know,” she laughed.
“What kind of male would I be if I didn’t care for my lovely hardworking mate?”
She reached over, grabbing a sandwich and holding it up for him. They spent the rest of the picnic like that, feeding each other bits of food and staring into one another’s eyes. When they had finished their meal, Rhys put what remained back in the basket and pulled her closer, pushing her head down onto his lap as he continued to stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a while, him stroking her hair and occasionally leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had been going on for some time when he finally said, “I don’t know what I’ve done in this life to deserve this. To deserve you.”
She looked up at him. His eyes were tender.
“You do deserve this. You’ve done so much good in your life, Rhys. You deserve every bit of happiness.”
He smiled.
“You are my happiness,” he said, his voice shaky, pressing another kiss to her brow, “and I will spend the rest of this eternity showing you how much I treasure you, my love, my mate, my salvation.”
She looked into his eyes. She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss. No words in her vocabulary could accurately describe what she was feeling, the depth of her affection for the male in front of her. She hoped her face and the glow of her skin said enough. They seemed to, as a moment later he pulled her into a tight embrace.
“My Feyre,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “my light.”
“I love you,” she said. She had never meant anything more.
“I love you too,” he responded, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.
He continued trailing light kisses down the column of her throat, smiling into her neck as he heard her breath hitch slightly. He readjusted, laying her down on the blanket. Her face was flushed as he stared down at her. He knelt down on top of her, pressing a long kiss onto her collarbone.
“Now prepare yourself, darling,” he said, “I’m going to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”
She was not prepared.
Tag List:
@feysandandnyxsworld
@that-sociopathic-hufflepuff
@emikadreams
@highladysith
@cardansfae
@aelin-bitch-queen
tagging some ppl who wanted to be in my jealous rhysand fic just in case u wanna se thisss
@live-the-fangirl-life
@story-scribbler
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wintersouldier57 · 4 years ago
Text
The Picnic - Feysand
So @thebonecarver and I wrote this to celebrate hitting 100 followers a few days ago!! Thank you to everyone who has followed us! 😊
It had been a long few weeks for the high lord and lady of the night court. Between their regularly scheduled meetings and taking care of Nyx, things had been hard. They had scarcely found any time for themselves in the midst of it, hardly any to just be together, enjoying each other’s presence. When Feyre wasn’t at a meeting, Rhys was in the Illyrian mountains handling the armies with Cassian. When Rhys was home, Feyre was at the art studio. Their schedules never seemed to line up.
They often spoke mentally, providing each other as much comfort as they could in that capacity, but they soon found that even psychic communication had its limits when it came to comforting one another. Feyre missed the way his arms felt around her, the way he would whisper soothing words into her ear when things became too much to handle. She understood that they had their responsibilities to their court. They were high lord and lady, after all. Still, she was restless. She wanted nothing more than to feel his embrace, nothing more than to drown in a pool of the transcendent love he offered her.
There was a dull ache in her heart that she knew only he could alleviate. She longed for him. She had not known desperation so deep since her days before coming to Prythian. That desperation, that hunger, had burned, but never like this. It had seared from the inside out, but never straight from the heart. Not like this did. This killed slowly, she thought, deliberately. She felt as though she had been traipsing around Velaris with half a soul, never quite able to get comfortable anywhere she went.
She would see him today. For the first time in weeks, everything lined up. Cassian and Azriel had agreed to take Nyx off their hands for the day for what Cassian called “much-needed uncle time”. They would pick him up as soon as she returned home for the day.
She was a bit surprised that Cassian had not said anything, no teasing. She didn't say anything though, she did not want to give him any ideas. He probably does not want to lose any time with Nyx, she thought, and chuckled silently.
“What’s so funny my High Lady? Rhysie has some good jokes for once?” Rhysand must have heard that from wherever he was, because he responded in Feyre’s and Cassian’s head, At least my jokes don't have every female in all of Prythian running for the hills Cassian. Feyre laughed harder, Cassian chuckling as well.
“Well have fun you two, and be sure to be home at a respectable time, and PLEASE use a sound barrier, I do not want to have to explain what noises are being heard all over this cauldron-damned city to this little one.” He said in his most “mother hen” voice, and tickled a giggling Nyx in his arms. Feyre glared at him while he laughed, and Rhys must have said something in his head, for he laughed even harder.
“BYE CASSIAN” Feyre shouted, making a beeline to the door. She could still hear Cassian's laughter,
Once she was outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was a nice day, perfect for a walk in the park or a trip to the market squares. Perhaps she and Rhys could take a walk when he returned. She would love nothing more than to walk through Velaris hand in hand with her mate. She missed simple intimacies like that, little touches.
You look simply delectable in that dress, Feyre darling.
He had spoken into her mind. Could he see her? Where was he? She looked around but could not find him. Suddenly, there was a pressure underneath her knees, lifting her into the air. She yelped, surprised that he had picked her up.After the initial surprise, she spoke;
“You should have given me some warning, you prick.”
He chuckled, “Now what would be the fun in that Feyre Darling?”
She tried her best to look unaffected by the nickname, and replied “The fun would be that I wouldn't have to scream and not fall on my face for all of Velaris to see.”
He put on a face of mock hurt. “You really think I would drop you darling? I would never!”
She glared. “Based on what you did last time, I won't trust you for another 1000 years, 900 if your lucky.”
He laughed harder, burrowing his face in my neck, to try and silence it. Once he calmed he breathed in my neck, savouring her smell.
“If I could bottle your smell I would drink it every day.” He sighed, hugging Feyre tightly, as if she could disappear any moment. And to be honest based on how long they had been apart, they both felt as if they would disappear, but thank the cauldron they wouldn't.
Finally, after all this time, they were together. She smiled as she nuzzled closer to his chest. Through the bond, she could feel the pure happiness coursing through Rhys. Her grin widened as she felt the wind blazing past them.
She wondered where he might be taking her. They hadn’t discussed their plans beyond spending the day together. Wherever they were headed, though, Feyre knew she would love it. She would love it because he would be there with her. For the first time in a long while, she was home. An unyielding warmth welled up in her heart in the place of the ravenous longing she had been experiencing before. She was with Rhys now, and all was well, at least for the day.
She looked down and watched the vibrant landscape of Velaris fly by beneath them. She could easily fly herself, but she didn’t want to. At least for now, she wanted to be held by him. Judging by the way his arms were wrapped around her more tightly than usual, it was clear that he was enjoying it too. There was something about him holding her like that. It always gave her butterflies, no matter how long they had been together. Even with the centuries stretching out before them, she could be sure that that would never change. Not this, and not the way they felt for each other. She would always look at him as though he had hung the very stars that shone above Ramiel on the Night Court’s insignia, and he would always look to her and see his darling mate, his salvation.
They continued their flight. When he landed and sat her on her feet, she mourned the close contact. She took in their surroundings. They stood on a hill overlooking the city. From the vantage point, she could see it all. She saw the rainbow and the Sidra, twinking as it reflected the sun’s light. What she took the most note of, though, was the blanket laid out on the grass, a small basket sitting at its center.
A picnic.
Rhys had planned a picnic.
She didn’t realize it was possible to love him more than she already did.
He watched her intently, taking in the shift in her expression. He grinned widely. He loved seeing her like this, happy and content. For once, she looked her age. She looked like the 20 year-old girl she was, and without eyes that looked haunted or scared. Their duties could wait. Right now, as they stood on this hill, things were for once simple. The world was quiet, save for the slight breeze that occasionally brushed against their ears. They were happy. War and politics be damned.
“Happy, my love?”
She looked down to find that her hand was glowing. It seemed that her body was speaking for itself. Instead of answering, she took a few steps toward him, placing her shining palm on the side of his face, stroking his cheek. His violet eyes were alight with the spark of love. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t like things had been recently. It wasn’t the quick kiss of someone trying to make time between meetings or the kind of kiss she would give him as she passed him on the way to feed Nyx. The kiss they now shared was sweet, unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world to stand there and relish in what they were feeling.
After what felt like a millenia, he slowly pulled away from her, once again meeting her eyes.
“I’ve missed that,” he said.
“I’ve missed you,” Feyre replied, tears brimming in her eyes. But she was smiling, a broad, indestructible smile that made Rhys look at her in wonder
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Rhys motioned to the blanket.
“Let’s get more comfortable.”
They made their way over to the blanket and they sat next to one another. She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. With his other arm, he reached for the basket, producing several sandwiches and a container of what she assumed was some sort of stew. He sat the food in front of them before he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on her hair.
She knew she was likely still glowing. She didn’t need to look down to know. Rhys picked up one of the sandwiches and held it to her lips. She took a bite, savoring the taste. She quickly realized where she had tasted it before. It was one of the sandwiches from her favorite restaurant. She beamed. Her clever, loving mate had gone there and procured it for her, just to make her happy. She recalled a time when such a thing would have been an ordeal, a time when her former lover had refused to so much as let her leave the house. She wished more than anything that she could go back in time and tell that girl that this was waiting on the horizon, that such a love awaited her beyond all the turmoil.
He put a hand on her hair, lightly stroking it as he held up the sandwich once again for her. She took another bite, turning slightly.
“I can feed myself, you know,” she laughed.
“What kind of male would I be if I didn’t care for my lovely hardworking mate?”
She reached over, grabbing a sandwich and holding it up for him. They spent the rest of the picnic like that, feeding each other bits of food and staring into one another’s eyes. When they had finished their meal, Rhys put what remained back in the basket and pulled her closer, pushing her head down onto his lap as he continued to stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a while, him stroking her hair and occasionally leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had been going on for some time when he finally said, “I don’t know what I’ve done in this life to deserve this. To deserve you.”
She looked up at him. His eyes were tender.
“You do deserve this. You’ve done so much good in your life, Rhys. You deserve every bit of happiness.”
He smiled.
“You are my happiness,” he said, his voice shaky, pressing another kiss to her brow, “and I will spend the rest of this eternity showing you how much I treasure you, my love, my mate, my salvation.”
She looked into his eyes. She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss. No words in her vocabulary could accurately describe what she was feeling, the depth of her affection for the male in front of her. She hoped her face and the glow of her skin said enough. They seemed to, as a moment later he pulled her into a tight embrace.
“My Feyre,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “my light.”
“I love you,” she said. She had never meant anything more.
“I love you too,” he responded, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.
He continued trailing light kisses down the column of her throat, smiling into her neck as he heard her breath hitch slightly. He readjusted, laying her down on the blanket. Her face was flushed as he stared down at her. He knelt down on top of her, pressing a long kiss onto her collarbone.
“Now prepare yourself, darling,” he said, “I’m going to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”
She was not prepared.
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flying-nightwing · 5 years ago
Text
Damn Him
Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!
More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader
Word count: 4798
Warnings: None
Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought
You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.
Call me when you can - B.
Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.
"(Y/N), how are you?"
"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"
"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"
"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.
"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"
You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"
"As soon as you can"
"Aight, see ya"
You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.
You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.
You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.
"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"
"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"
"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"
"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"
You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.
"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.
"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"
You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"
"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"
"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"
"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"
"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.
"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"
He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"
"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.
Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.
"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"
"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"
"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"
"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"
Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"
"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"
"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"
Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"
"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.
"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"
This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.
"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"
"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.
You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.
"Yes?"
"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"
You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"
"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"
"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"
------
You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.
"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"
You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"
"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.
"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"
Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"
"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"
"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"
You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.
"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"
"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"
You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.
"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"
Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"
"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"
"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.
"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"
For once? Was he serious?
You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"
"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"
"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.
"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.
He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.
"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.
"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.
"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"
"Crystal clear" 
"Good. Let's go"
While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.
"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.
"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"
You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 
"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"
"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"
"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"
You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"
"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"
"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"
"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"
"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"
"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"
"I was just reminding you"
"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"
"Come on, that's not–"
He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.
"Trouble in paradise?"
You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.
"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"
You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.
"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"
"Aleka" You shook her hand.
"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”
You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"
"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"
Oh shit.
"It's B" You replied instantly.
"Bee?"
"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"
"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"
She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"
"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.
"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"
You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"
"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"
"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"
"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”
You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"
"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"
You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.
"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.
"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"
You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.
"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.
"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"
"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"
"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"
You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"
He pouted.
"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"
"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"
You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"
The bright grin returned.
"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.
"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.
"See, I told you"
This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.
"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.
"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"
They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.
"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.
"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"
Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.
"That would be absolutely lovely"
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fanfux · 5 years ago
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Group Projects with Monoma
A/N: It's been a minute, but I'm finally back! Currently writing in bullet point format until I get the motivation to write an ~actual~ piece. 
Monoma would not be able to Shut The Fuck Up about how /amazing/ your group is compared to the others. Doesn't matter who you are, or if he has to carry the entire assignment himself, that competitive spirit is strong in him. 
This doesn't mean he won't occasionally derail and go off-track, however. Work gets borind, draining or sometimes downright dull at times, and he will indulge for a short time. As soon as he realizes how much time has elapsed, though, it's back to the grinding wheel.
He'd be the type to either snag a study room or an empty classroom to get work done in. Work happens in dorm rooms only if the group is in dire straits or you've managed to befriend him and gain his trust.
Working with Monoma means you're gonna be going at full gas, no brakes, full speed ahead. His bubris does get the best of him, so you may find yourself feeling like you're being dragged by the pubes. His intentions are good, but he may forget not everyone's as driven or motivated as he is. 
He's the type to call you over Zoom or Discord (RIP Skype) to screenshare assignments at a scheduled time. He's not a hardass
Despite this, he's religious about self care. He had /one/ burnout, and vowed never again. He'll kick off a work session by toasting and chugging a quater litre of water. If you haven't eaten, drank or moved in a while, he'll be on you for that. You can't perform your best if you're not at you best.
Understands if you have stage fright, social anxiety or a stutter, and will help you work on those. He's the ultimate hype man. If you get through a reading without stuttering, he's piling on the praises, bragging about it to whoever will listen, commemorating it on his personal twitter acc, all of it. 
He may become more unhinged as the deadline approaches if it's a large project.  He's checking in on you every day, now making sure you're okay to put in the work. You're part of his team, and he's going for victory, even if it's only going to be personal.
A/N: Hey! you've made it here! I'm really sorry about my absence, and I can't confirm that i'll be updating regularly, but I'm definitely happy to be putting out content again, no matter how small. Hope you enjoyed!
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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago
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Love you to the Moon and to Saturn
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Summary: Caring is not an advantage. To Mycroft, this was a belief he found through the calculated logic that ruled his life. If was analytical and detached and certainly had nothing to do with Sherlock or the childhood neighbor. 
A/N: In a break from my regularly scheduled SVU writing, here’s a four part Folklore inspired Mycroft Holmes thing.
Please, picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted
“Mycroft, promise you’ll remember me here,” Ruth whispered, laying on the blanket beside where he sat with his legs before him. It was wholly undignified, but it was the clearing they spent their free time in the summer when Sherlock wasn’t there for them to watch over.
“Why here?” he asked, brow lifted as he watched her carefully weaving the bevy of flowers she’d picked. It had made their walk three times as long, but he was content to watch her as the sun shone on red curls and the yellow sundress flowed in the wind. Uncle Rudy wouldn’t approve of the way he was beginning to think of her. The neighbor girl in the summers who helped him watch over his precocious brother and never knew the sister that still haunted his nightmares. He was sixteen now, but the tension was not yet gone in the Holmes house. Ruth’s insistence on dragging him to the clearing always served as a reprieve.
“You don’t act so stuffy, so it’s where I’ll remember you. I want our memories to match when you go off to school in a couple years.” He might have taken offense if she weren’t right, something she must have known because she added, “It’s probably good one of us already acts politely. But I like seeing you when you don’t look so stressed.”
“I’m under no stress, Ruth.”
“You’re a good liar. But we’ve also spent four summers together now. You always play quite serious, but I’m learning to read you.”
There was no reason she needed to know what weighed so heavily on his shoulders. His parents had yet to realize the weight their pressure put on him. He’d been scolded for not watching Eurus more closely, not watching Sherlock and Victor as they played. Then, Uncle Rudy had decided two years before that fourteen was man enough to know the reality and partake in taking care of the family. 
Rudy would always claim he occupied a minor position in the British government, but whatever it was allowed him to put Eurus somewhere far, far away. In a few years, Mycroft would go to Oxford, study something that prepped him to join Rudy. When the time came, managing the secrets would be his job. He would minitor Eurus at Sherrinford, hide the secrets away from his parents, let them think their daughter dead and maintain the illusion she was. At least he would give her creature comforts, gifts on birthdays. 
Mycroft wouldn’t lose the humanity or kindness Rudy had. It took work to learn it, but it was carefully curated and hidden away, reserved for a select few, and Ruth was one of them. He didn’t want to tell Ruth all the darkness Rudy kept tucked away or the way he had to monitor Sherlock to ensure he didn’t remember Eurus or that redbeard wasn’t truly a dog.
“I am unknowable, Ruth,” he nearly hummed, allowing the corner of his mouth to lift. “But I promise to remember you dirtying a perfectly lovely dress in order to weave flowers into a wreath.”
“It’s a crown, Mycroft,” she said emphatically. “I bring blankets now so you won’t dirty your slacks.”
“What a kindness.”
“You used to be more like me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You act like a teacher. All serious and proper and wearing slacks and a sweater and a collared shirt to spend a day in the yard.”
“I’m just trying to act like an adult.”
“We’re not adults.” 
He wanted to tell her he wasn’t allowed to be a child anymore. That he wanted to go with her to get drunk at bonfires and snog and do all the things his peers did. But, between his intellect making most people simply unbearable, the jealousy he wouldn’t acknowledge when some lad talked to Ruth, and the fact that would mean risking something happening to his brother, he couldn’t. If Sherlock were hurt, his parents would blame him, as they did with Eurus, so Mycroft hovered over him. Luckily, he seemed to like the attention from his big brother, often snatching books he knew Mycroft had finished and devouring them to discuss them proudly in earshot of Mycroft.
“I suppose you’re correct. I still have no intention of going to one of those bonfires with you. Sherlock will be home soon. We ought to go back.”
“You’re not his parent.”
“I just enjoy his company.”
She squinted, placing her newly finished ring of flowers atop her head, and he smiled despite himself. It was probably good she made him take these breaks in the summers. Otherwise, he’d never take the time to breathe or feel the sun on his face or anything else. One day, he wouldn’t have the option. Caring wasn’t an advantage. That’s what Rudy kept telling him, but Mycroft couldn’t see how this could be anything but.
Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other… Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
“This isn’t tea, Ruth,” he said, distaste apparent as she set the pitcher before him. 
“It’s sweet tea, Mycroft. Just try it.”
“You were raised by Americans. This is a bastardization of tea. I won’t have it.”
“You take your tea with so much sugar, anyway. It’s hot out, and I wanted something that wouldn’t make me hotter. There’s mint in it. And sugar. Just try it. For me?”
Mycroft made a noise of dissatisfaction, taking the offered glass and sipping it. He didn’t want to admit it was bearable, but when he took another sip, he could see the look of pride on Ruth’s face. Expectantly, she crossed her arms, and he sighed as he realized she’d wait until he answered.
“It’s acceptable. Still a bastardization. Hot tea is perfectly lovely on a hot day.”
“I’ll take it. Especially given how easily you’re drinking it.”
“Impossible.”
“You love me,” she sang playfully, and he wanted to tell her he was becoming quite sure he did. She was who came to mind when he heard love described. Ruth was who he trusted, was comfortable around, and made him want to be less of a miserable pain. She was also beautiful and smart and interesting, not like everyone else he’d dubbed as goldfish as of late. It was infuriating. 
“To the moon and to saturn,” he said softly, mirroring the way she’d said the same thing affectionately to both him and his brother. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the patio swing, and he felt the tickle of Ruth’s braids before he felt her press a kiss to the top of his head. His heart pounded, and Mycroft was suddenly more aware of her closeness as he opened her eyes. The sound of Sherlock calling out to his audience of toys as he played echoed to them, but for once they were the background noise to his mind and all he could focus on was Ruth’s soft laugh as she watched his brother from her place beside him.
“To the moon and to saturn,” she smiled. “You’re my best friend, Mycroft.”
He didn’t like the word friend in that moment, but saying as much would mean admitting he was smitten with her. There was no way he could keep that from mummy and father. He wasn’t one for affection, but he let her rest her head upon his shoulder, a dignified hand pressing to her cheek before returning to his lap. 
“And you are mine, Ruth.”
“You mean that?”
“I do.”
“Thank you.” 
Ruth stayed against his side, only sitting up when Sherlock ran up clutching some piece of a broken gardening trow he seemed quite proud to have found. Ruth took it gladly, promising she’d try to think of a way to give it a handle again. In the fall and spring, it was always harder for him to keep up with his younger brother; mummy and father both taught at the university and found their time researching and writing indispensable so they could enjoy the winter break and summer. They said the boys would be fine on their own, but what they meant was Mycroft would be watching. It was better with Ruth, who genuinely seemed to enjoy helping to make Sherlock feel included. 
With Eurus gone and Victor dead, the ten year old only had his brother and their neighbor. He also had the same distance Mycroft remembered so well, the sea between himself and everyone else because their minds simply worked differently. People could be so boring, especially if they were unwilling to deal with the Holmes’ peculiarities. Everyone was so delicate, still learning who they were and building self esteem, that Sherlock and Mycroft with intelligence to rival the teachers and eccentricities abound didn’t know how to interact, especially given how long their mother had kept them home schooled. Victor had always understood his brother, and now he was gone. Ruth was the first close friend Mycroft had found, the only one where he didn’t have to calculate what his next move should be.
“Mycroft,” Sherlock asked, pulling on his brother’s sleeve. He was still all dark curls and blue eyes. It was still admiration on his face instead of the annoyance that would take its place ten years later. “Do we have any of the big wooden dowels left? Ruth says we could use them to make a handle!”
“We do,” he said softly, straightening the boy’s collar. “You’re quite lucky she’s always so willing to assist in your restorations. Her father does restorations for museums. I’ll fetch the dowels. You help Ruth set up your work station.”
I’ve been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why I think you should come live with me  And we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry
“Why are you hiding?” 
Mycroft looked up from his book, back against the wall of the attic. It was the first Christmas since he’d left for Oxford, and he was pleased to learn both families would spend it as they did their summers. If anything had been confirmed for him, it was that he was irrevocably in love with her. He’d now kissed and slept with a couple of people and each time he wondered how it would be if it were Ruth. 
Rudy had made it apparent that until he was needed at a job once he graduated, his summers were his, and he was pleased to know he had three summers with her before Eurus was his responsibility. Sherlock had been acting out since he left, and he had a feeling soon enough the boy would be his responsibility from afar.
“I’m not hiding,” he argued as she settled beside him. “What, no hello?”
“Hello, Mycroft. I missed you terribly.”
“I missed you too, Ruth.” 
“You never call me. We don’t get to run into each other when you’re at school. So we’ve got to put in effort.”
“I’ve nothing terribly interesting to say.”
“Call and bore me then, okay?”
“You require quite a lot of attention.” His tone was as playful as she’d ever heard, though to anyone else she was certain it sounded monotone. But, the corners of his mouth weren’t turned down, even if he did seem more exhausted than she’d ever seen him.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Mycroft.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I could hear your dad.” Mycroft sighed, placing his bookmark and setting the novel aside. His hands came to rest on his lap, fingers laced, and he just couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. “Was it about Sherlock?”
“He’s been acting out with regularity. Mummy and father think I should come back more. That he misses me. I do not know when they expect that I will be able to, but I’m going to make an effort to.”
“Mycroft, he’ll find something else to act out over. He’s only turning eleven. It’s a change he’ll have to get used to because one day, you’ll be prime minister or something and never have time for any of us.”
“Don’t wish that upon me.”
“Sometimes, I think something bad happened here. And that the energy gets to your dad. He isn’t like this in the city from what you tell me.”
“Are you implying ghosts make my father angry, Ruth?”
“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You should come stay with me. I’ll sneak you in through the window.”
“Your father would have me killed. He’d assume I had nefarious intent.”
“He left,” she muttered, picking at the loose thread of the rug. 
“Ruth-”
“I’m fine. He still visits me, and I visit him. It’s just so strange being here for Christmas without him. He met a woman at work…”
“How’s Catherine?”
“She’s taken it well. She stays out a lot. But she’s been home for the holiday since we came out here.”
“I am always here if you need to talk about it. You could have called me.”
“I know,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “Are you ready to run away from responsibility yet? I still think we could have a lovely roadside stand somewhere. A cottage.”
“You could always come to Oxford.”
“Maybe I will.”
“I’ll always have a place for you.”
“I’m just pleased I get to see you. It’s been too long. You’re my favorite person, you know?”
“And you’re mine.”
“No, Sherlock is,” she teased, nudging his side. “But that’s fair.”
“I love you.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He’d said it dozens of times, but always in response to her. There was something else behind it now as they hid away from their families. It felt comfortable. He felt at home now that she was here. Wasn’t that a sign? That he still felt unstable when surrounded by his parents and Sherlock, but a peace washed over him when Ruth’s head poked out from behind the attic door. 
“Mycroft-”
“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t.”
“I do.”
“What?”
“I said I do. I love you too, Mycroft Holmes.”
He didn’t know what to do now. Oxford was the first place someone had kissed him, a brunette boy at a party his roommate had held. There was also a woman, one much older than him, who he met at the library. Those had been simple enough because the weight of his feelings wasn’t attached. He’d worked so hard with Rudy to control them, to remember caring isn’t an advantage. It was acceptable to love his little brother; Rudy reminded him that would make everything easier. But loving Ruth? He’d always made their friendship an exception, but as he realized he had the opportunity to kiss her he took it. 
Long fingers cupped her jaw, and his heart soared as he realized she was looking to his lips. She leaned in before he could, hands going to his sides as she kissed him sweetly. Each kiss he’d had before had a purpose. It was hard and wanting and found the inexperienced Mycroft in a bed somewhere. Now, he could just hold his lips to hers like this forever, never progressing, and be happy. When they did separate, she buried her face into the crook of his neck, and his arms circled her waist as he savored the closeness. He could feel her heart pounding as his was. 
“I love you, Mycroft.”
“And I love you, Ruth.”
“Promise?”
“To the moon and to Saturn.”
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