#but even i will get Sad And Weird if i go weeks without some significant social interaction

[grimrester]

as someone who has to actively practice socializing as a skill, i get so genuinely irritated with people online who wont interact with people irl bc its hard and treat it like its a funny personality quirk and not, like, a serious mental health problem. like im really sorry youve atrophied your social skills (ive been there!) but it does not make you interesting or cute and its absolutely a factor in why you feel miserable all the time. and the only way to get better is to do it anyway even though it is awful and awkward and humiliating

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Hello could you do more fics about ballister head injury?(love your worke❤️)

THIS RESPAWNED IN MY DRAFTS HOLY SHIT

I'm so glad you love my work thank you so much for this ask 🩷 sorry it took so long but as I had said in another post, my Tumblr ate it for breakfast and it was disappeared from my askbox and drafts. But it reappeared!!! Please enjoy your very late drabble request <3

Cw: seizures, brain injury

Ballister leaned against Ambrosius, closing his eyes. “You sleepy, Bal?”

“Mhm.” Ballister rubbed his eyes. “I couldn't get to sleep last night. Kept having headaches and weird dreams.”

“That's no good, babe. Try to take it easy today. Do you think it's your head?”

“He just said it was his head, duh.” Nimona cut in. She'd been back for the past couple months, and she and Ambrosius were still getting used to each other. Ballister chuckled. “It's probably fine.” Ambrosius made a worried face.

Eight months ago, when Ballister was on the run, he'd suffered considerable head trauma, several times, one after another after another. The whole thing left Ballister with considerable brain damage in the frontal and temporal lobes especially. It was especially significant in the first few weeks after everything happened, when he was often unsteady on his feet, spoke with slurred speech, struggled with short term memory, understanding rapid or unclear speech, and extreme emotional outbursts where he would be extremely afraid, sad, angry, or happy without apparent cause. He'd also started having seizures at that time. Ambrosius learned to deal with them, but he always hoped each one would be Ballister's last. The doctor said they'd stop eventually, but they never knew when eventually would come.

Thankfully, since then, his brain had healed tremendously. Still, Ambrosius couldn't help but worry when Ballister had anything going on with his head.

“Alright, well, just be careful, okay? Don't strain yourself.” He kissed Ballister's cheek.

Nimona cackled. “Come on, Nemesis. I don't think the boss is gonna let some dumb headache slow him down! He's not made of glass, you know. He's ten percent solid steel and a hundred percent badass!”

“My arm makes up five percent of my weight, Nimona, also it's made of titanium.” Ballister smiled at her.

“See? Even cooler.” She returned to what she was doing and Ambrosius sighed. Maybe he was being a little overly anxious.

But as the day went on, Ballister seemed off. Foggy, distracted, a little bit uncharacteristically emotional or snippy sometimes. Even Nimona noticed, Ambrosius could see the puzzlement in her face even if she said nothing. It all came to a head later that day, they were at a park and they were noticed by members of the public, who started their usual barrage, asking frankly triggering questions and requesting photographs and signatures.

Ambrosius was used to all that, but while Ballister was somewhat accustomed to it, it always stressed him out. Ambrosius managed to fish his lover and Nimona away from the paparazzi and back to the safety of their vehicle.

“You guys alright?” Ambrosius started it up, flying through the airways. Ballister didn't answer, he glanced over. “Bal?”

His lover looked distant, blinking fast, looking around in a haze. “Do you, lemon?”

“What?” Oh shit. “Nimona, take his arm off!” Ambrosius began landing the vehicle in a safe place.

“What?” She looked quizzically from the backseat.

“Now! He's having a seizure, the prosthetic is wired to his nerves and muscle, the electrical signals can make it go nuts!”

Ballister knew a seizure was coming when he tasted lemon out of nowhere. They needed to get it together quickly, he was already having trouble speaking.

Quickly Nimona reached forward and disconnected the arm, and not a moment too soon. Ballister’s face twisted and his head began to jerk, along with his right leg, a rhythmic back and forth motion. Once Ambrosius was safely parked, he grabbed the blanket from the back seat and cushioned Ballister's head, and started a timer on his phone. A car was not the ideal place for this to happen, he wasn't completely sure of the protocol. Ballister was at least buckled, so he couldn't collapse into the dashboard. “It's okay, Bal.” He whispered softly. Everything will be okay.”

Nimona's eyes were wide with terror. After sixty-two seconds, Ballister went still, his eyes blearily gazing in front of him, foggy. Ambrosius stroked his hair. “It's over, love. It's over. You're okay.”

Nimona swallowed. “What happened to him?”

Ambrosius exited the vehicle and came around to open Ballister's door so he could more closely check up on him. He unbuckled him and helped him out of the car, supporting most of his weight. “Nimona, let me lay him in the back, he needs to lay on his side.”

Nimona moved out of the way. “What happened to him?”

Once Ballister was laid safely in a recovery position, Ambrosius sat beside the car and stroked his hair. “He had a seizure.”

“A seizure? I thought you had to be born with those. I've never seen him do this before.”

“He hit his head, a lot, after–” Ambrosius swallowed. “After what I did to him. It all added up, and left enough damage that this happens sometimes. Eventually it's supposed to go away, but we have no idea when. He's okay, he just won't be able to talk for a few minutes. Will you sit back here with him? Just make sure he's breathing okay, and try to comfort him while I drive home. Sometimes he gets a little emotional. You can give his arm back, too.” He swallowed. He wanted to comfort Ballister, but he needed to get them home safely. Ballister could recover better at home.

Nimona didn't seem to know what to do, but for once, she didn't argue. Ambrosius drove home hearing her speak softer than he ever had, in a reassuring voice.

When they got home, they managed to assist Ballister inside. He could now understand speech and get out a word here and there, but he was mostly disoriented and exhausted. Once Ambrosius checked that his breathing was normal, and he didn't have any severe bites in his mouth, he tucked him into their bed and let him rest, setting a timer to wake him up and check on him.

Nimona looked gaunt, she paced the living room.

“Aren't you a thousand years old? I thought you'd be used to things like seizures. This wasn't a bad one, thankfully. He's okay, you don't have to worry.” Ambrosius was a hypocrite. He was extremely worried.

She shook her head. “Not that, I mean, I've seen them before, they're normal, I've known thousands of people– but I didn't realize— I didn't realize someone could hurt their head so easily.” She whispered.

“What do you mean?”

She swallowed. “He got hit in the face with a rock when the Institute blew up. And I dragged him home. And I didn't even try to make sure he didn't hit his head! He was getting smacked into curbs left and right and– and I thought it was funny!” She rubbed her face. “I haven't been close with a human in so long, I forgot how fragile they were, how even something like that– it's partially my fault, don't you get it? I was careless and he hit his head and now he's suffering because of me.”

Ambrosius swallowed. Ballister told him about how Nimona said he'd hit his head on the curb when she took him home, and yes, it had contributed to several in a series of head injuries. He sat on the couch. “Nimona, it's not your fault. I knew about that. The doctor said the concussions hadn't helped, but most of the damage was from the debris, from Todd beating him up, and from when he fell through the stadium floor. It's just– how it is.”

Nimona sat on the couch beside him and sniffed. “You don't understand. I forgot how easily humans can be hurt. How easily they can die.”

“Oh…” Ambrosius looked down. “Well, for what it's worth, I don't think he'd be here at all if it wasn't for you. Humans are weak, but Ballister is strong. He's kind, resilient, and forgiving– I know that better than anyone. He's gonna be fine. Don't beat yourself up.”

Nimona sniffed and smiled at him. “Thanks, nemesis.”

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Cowboy Jen, i adore your blog and appreciate your thoughtful answers.

Im a young adult lesbian and recently went through a break up. It was my first love, we were together for a long time and lived together. Although I know it was for the best, and im so much happier and healthier in lots of ways, there is a lot of very bad and weird feelings and i cant stop thinking of her. I cant stop thinking of the potential relationship of what could have been, and what we both deserved from each other. And thinking about how i could now give it to her if 1.) she understood and wasnt so angry and mad and 2.) she tried to heal and change her unhealthy behaviors. I know these r not likely.

I guess what I am looking for is reassurance that this will pass. My life is wonderful but the loss is so profound. i cant imagine going through life with just more losses like this piling up.

I would love some validation that it is okay that i am still thinking of her, its only been a few months but i want time to grieve, while society tells me to move on. I feel guilty and weak for still caring, but at the same time it only feels right to grieve such a significant relationship that took up a big part of your heart and soul.

Again i reaallly appreciate that you give such care on here, like many young lesbians i dont have older women in my life to tell me that they have been through what i have and offer recognition and advice. I hope you have a wonderful week

Something my older lesbians friends have been fabulous about is showing me that things pass, love, hard times, friendships and pain. When something is fresh and feels over whelming, especially when it is the first time or you were completely unprepared to deal with it feels like a weight so heavy you want to crumble under it and you don't see a way out.

I offer you comfort as an older lesbian, that it all passes and life will get better. There is no time limit and it is okay to grieve but it is really important that you take control of that time. Don't let it become such a place of comfort that you let the sadness set the plan for your future.

I can tell you from experience that loss of love, even when you know with every fiber it was time for it to be over, is scary, hard, and makes you rethink every word, action and even your self worth. The “what ifs” can take over in your head and your heart. 

It is very important to give yourself and her space and time. Don’t force “let’s be freinds” or even seek further closure or answers. There might not be any answers and there might never be. Closure is something you give yourself. You know in your logical brain it was right and the breakup is a firm end. You can move on and do for you without question. 

My first girlfriend and I were together 7 years. I loved her and she loved me but we were not each others end all be all of love. We were a good fit for the time. Young, energetic in sex, activism and even in building a future. The future was just shorter than we could know. When she asked to break up because she had met someone else she wanted to explore time with I was grateful she did not betray me and was honest. After a wave of anger and fear I realized I was not as heart broken as I thought i would, or should be. 

We had spend the better part of our 20′s together and had a wonderful time but with the 30′s approaching we both had different goals and we had changed. At first we tried to be friends mostly because we shared dozens of mutual friends. Eventually we gave each other space, not making friends chose but bowing out here and there when the other was present at gatherings. Over the years we healed, and now, we work together and I love her and her friendship is amazing. And I know we are both thankful almost daily we didn’t stay together. Her wife is amazing and my life is wild and fulfilling. 

I have stayed in relationships too long, I have had a sort of odd love, FWB, fling, I have loved more deeply and strongly than I ever thought I could just since I hit 50. (I am 54). The ending of each relationship, good, bad, romantic or friendship is the first step into exploring something that could be better, stronger or just different. Life in love is a series of finding out what makes you happy and feel loved. Some people find it in the first, other take some trial and error. 

I promise, you will move on from this pain. Gain space and perspective with time as you move forward. It is okay to hurt and miss her and the good things. Just let that become a part of your learning not how you define your future relationship. 

Big Elder Lesbian hugs from me. You will be okay. 

[survey--s]

600.

Who gives the best advice? I don't really ask people for advice - because my experience is that they then get pissed off when you don't take it.

Is there any band out there that you like every song by them? No.

What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you? I can't think of anything in particular right now.

Have you ever smoked? Yeah, I smoked for a bit during my year abroad.

Does your favorite uncle have any children? He does. Two grown up daughters who now have kids of their own.

Have you ever been in a lighthouse? Yes.

Name one of your psycho exes? Chris.

Why were they a psycho ex? Well, he was a compulsive liar and refused to admit to several of his children. We broke up and it's come to light there are even more.

Do you still talk to your first crush? No.

Where would you like to travel? I'd love to go back to Canada and Italy, and in terms of new countries - New Zealand, Iceland, Japan and the Seychelles.

Are you shy about singing in front of people? Not really, but I definitely can't sing in tune lol.

Do you know anyone who always makes themselves out to be the victim? Yeah, I went to university with someone like that. It was exhausting.

Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? Yes.

What’s your favorite movie battle scene? The battle for Helms Deep is pretty good so far as battles go.

Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? No - I've never been to any wedding that wasn't my own.

What’s the population of your hometown? The town I grew up in is about 15k. My current town is about 7k.

What’s the most difficult experience you and a significant other have gone through together? I don't really know, to be honest. Looking back most of my relationships were just filled with pretty mundane dramas.

What’s something you have zero tolerance for? Animal abuse.

When's the last time you said you were sorry? Earlier today when I trod on the cat.

Would you like living on the coast? I love living by the coast. The only disadvantage is the strong wind/storms in the autumn.

Honestly, do you enjoy arguing? No.

Which theory do you wish but perhaps not believe was true about afterlife? I don't really believe anything happens after we die. I kind of think heaven would be cool, though, but without the religious aspect.

Are you scared of losing the person you like to someone else? No. I have no concerns in that respect, he's a very decent person with decent morals.

Do you have a hard time making decisions? I'm weird in that I can make huge, life-changing decisions in seconds, but I really struggle with minor decisions like where to eat or what outfit to wear lol.

If there was a large spider in your room, would you stay in the room? NOPE.

What’s your favorite kind of meat? (vegan/vegetarian options count!) Steak or bacon, or fried chicken.

Have you ever been mistaken for staff at a store you were just visiting? No.

What’s the coolest or most memorable animal you’ve ever seen at a zoo? White lions and tigers are pretty incredible, even though they're mostly inbred these days which is sad. I also remember seeing dolphins at an aquarium in Italy but it just made me sad. It was a mum and calf in this tiny tank and they just swam in circles constantly.

Do you share a bedroom with anybody? My husband and the dog, lol.

What video game have you played the most hours of? If you don’t know, just make a rough guess. Overall probably the Sims as I played it constantly as a kid.

Who will you see within the next week? Mike, my parents and I have no idea who else. I'm hoping to catch up with Susie at some point and I'll probably see my in-laws too.

Do your parents live in their hometown(s)? No - they live on the opposite side of the world from where they were born, lol.

Have you ever modeled before? No.

If offered $1 million, would you do a reality show of your life? No. I value my privacy too much for that.

Who owns the computer you are on? Me.

What’s your best friend’s favorite color? I'm not sure he really has a favourite colour.

What color was your senior prom dress? Red.

How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2014? Just the one.

Northernmost state you’ve been to: I've never been to America.

Think you’ll live to be 100? Who knows. Both sides of my family are pretty long-lived and healthy so I guess it's possible.

Which YouTuber do you feel like you could be friends with easily? I don't watch any YouTubers.

Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? My dad.

If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I honestly have no idea lol

What's something you used to believe in that you don't anymore? Nothing in particular is coming to mind.

What's something you believe everyone should have? A home.

What's the first thing you do once you get home from a trip? Say hi to all the animals, and then go and take a pee.

Do you listen to podcasts? Which ones? No, I genuinely don't get the appeal.

What was the last heavy thing you lifted? The cat.

Do you have an anchor tattoo? No.

Are your hands unsteady? No.

Do you think you’re pretty? I think I'm normal looking.

Who do you know that wears the most makeup? I don't really know anyone who wears tons of make-up. I live in a very outdoorsy area so most people don't wear much (if any).

Are you anyone’s first love? Apparently so.

Has anyone ever told you they were in love with you? Yes.

How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Nothing. My sex life is nobody else's business but mine (and my partners).

[skruffie]

long sad navel-gazing under the cut, various abuse TWs go here, I think long-timer followers already know the drill

I know exactly what was happening in this photo. A couple days ago I kind of alluded to a thing that happened 10 years ago and this was about a week later when I was incredibly depressed. Not only did Thing happen but the entire weekend including the day immediately after I was listening to the lovely sounds of my parents screaming at each other and slamming doors, etc etc. I was trying to navigate all of that.

This was taken when I was working in the gallery on campus. The exhibit we had was about boat building. 2012 is right in the middle of what I’ve just started calling my “lost years” because there was a lot of traumatic shit happening basically from 2011-early 2014 that I thought was due to the One Big Traumatic Thing but actually was just a maelstrom of one thing after another.

Let’s observe the details in this photo. The hat I believe was crocheted by an ex friend of mine and unfortunately it wasn’t stretchy so I didn’t wear it too often. The nail polish I remember specifically was a shiny, shimmery teal that I painted to distract myself from the weekend-long argument my parents were having. Looking at this, I can remember very clearly something happening on the night of October 12th, shaking the entire drive home, waking up to the sounds of yelling and continuing to just shake and shake and shake uncontrollably for almost a couple days straight. I painted my nails to try to give myself some kind of soothing distraction. The constant trembling... very odd side effect of PTSD. I don’t get it much anymore thankfully but sometimes still when I’m under significant stress it’ll come back and simultaneously I feel more sensitive to cold. Hence the sweater in the photo.

The sweater I’m wearing here wasn’t even mine.

I’m sitting here trying to remind myself of that old quote of like “your story is yours to tell and if people don’t like it they should have treated you better” but this version of me from 10 years ago is still in my head. They still want to believe that maybe there was something just inherently weird about who they are as a person to warrant what was happening. Everything else was so fucked that a week before this photo they were like “wow, that sure was something that just happened and I am not going to deal with that right now!” and so they didn’t, for years. There’s not a clean way to talk about it, so fuck it. I had a therapist a few years ago that when I told her about the friend I had (who owned this sweater I’m wearing in the picture) she said it was akin to the beginnings of a domestic violence situation. Last year I made an account on this site and compared a few years of memories with this “friend” through their Mosaic Threat Assessment System to see how badly I was abused and what the odds are that it would have escalated further and I scored 6/10 or 152/200. Some stuff I couldn’t answer because we weren’t romantically involved but the scoring thankfully knows that some stuff is just not going to be relevant.

My scoring indicates not just a situation that can escalate but one that already did. I know this now, cognitively, but you know how little resources there are for people who’ve been abused by friends? Ten Years Ago Bek doesn’t know how to talk about it and present day Bek is tired of thinking about it.

Part of why returning to college has been a challenge for me is not just because of the money, but because it triggers me. Once I paid a visit to the campus for the opening of their pride center because I still have friends among the staff and I tried to sit in the gallery for a poetry reading. I literally could not sit in there for longer than a few seconds without feeling like I was about to scream. I have had to purposely acclimate myself into going into specific buildings or specific places over and over again to re-wire new memories and remember that I’m not in 2012 and that my abuser is not there anymore. I don’t have to be afraid of running into her at the gallery or in the bathroom or at club events because it’s not happening anymore. I haven’t spoken to her in eight years. Even calling her that here, now--an abuser and not a former friend--makes me feel weird. That’s the insidious nature of abuse. Sorry, not sorry, but you don’t get to publicly humiliate me and assault me and then expect that I am going to stay quiet for the entire rest of my life. The version of me in this photo can’t see the future and where we ended up now but I know that healing them means that maybe I should venture to talk about this more often.

[leviathism]

May I request the brothers with a romance repulsed Aro!MC who gets uncomfortable with things relating to romance?

gender neutral reader - wasn’t quite sure what to do with this one but i hope you still liked it!

The Devildom media is obsessed with your relationship with Lucifer. They froth at the mouth over it, always scrambling to try and find information on whether it’s platonic or romantic or sexual or, or, or—

It gets to the point that every time you two so much as look at each other in public they use it as evidence to prove you are romantically involved. You and Lucifer both have to make public statements that you were friends and JUST friends.

It’s sad because Lucifer used to take you to dinner all the time to get away from the chaos in the HO, but now those outings are rare and far in between. You two still spend time together privately, away from prying eyes, of course.

Mammon hadn’t thought too much of it when he had told the people interviewing him for the Majolish Magazine that you and him were dating. It would make the ratings go high and make more money in his pockets. And when you two inevitably ‘broke up.’

But when he had gotten home a week later to you standing in the doorway with a crunched up magazine in your hands, he knew he had made a mistake.

He paid the company to issue a statement that they had mistakenly put your name instead of the person he really was dating. Goldie Moneybag became his new significant other when they sold the reprinted magazines.

Leviathan makes sure to warn you of the anime you two are watching that day. Some can be really romance focused and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Same goes with a game, especially if it’s some raunchy dating simulator. He hopes you’re fine with the pigeon one.

He’s fine to hang out with. He’s really glad to have you as a friend and never pushes you about dating or anything.

Satan makes sure you don’t have to watch any movies that would make you uncomfortable. Maybe you can watch romantic movies or maybe you can’t, but he still primarily watches genres or movies that don’t involve that for you.

Whenever you tell him you’re about to read a new book, he makes sure to tell you if it’s overly romantic if it doesn’t say so in the description.

It can almost feel like a punch in the stomach when you’re reading about two stupid idiots on their way to fight a dragon and suddenly they’re in a fake dating scenario. It’s weird. How can an author forget that important detail in the summary?

Asmodeus is probably the most touchy out of the brothers. It’s hard for him to get out of his habit of saying his more spicier lines along with giving you a quick squeeze but eventually he is able to reel himself in around you.

When before he saw you in formal attire, he would say a joke how he’d like to take you to dinner as his date and then to the bedroom, but nowadays he just smiles at you and says how good you look. He stops taking you as his date to parties and now takes you as his friend.

Beelzebub acts like a guard dog for you. Whenever a demon flirts with you when he’s around, he is sure to act like an oblivious barrier between you and the demon.

He always interrupts, stands in between you two, and finds a way for you and him to get away.

You and Belphegor cuddled often. Belphegor was always sleeping and cuddling was the best way to spend time with him. You also didn’t mind the free comfort he often gave you without him even realizing.

But he had taken it too far when he had looked at you expectantly after watching a romantic movie together and started to slowly lean in. You didn’t know if he truly meant it but you weren’t taking any chances.

After you avoiding him for what seemed like forever to him, he actually verbally apologized and stopped. He still cuddled with you but for the primary reason of sleeping and comfort, just as it had always been for you.

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[erensproudsimp]

Experiment

Hange Zoe x fem! reader Oneshot

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : Hange and you have been dating each other for quite some time. One day due to rain, you went over to Hange's and hehe hot stuff happens.

I've used they/them pronouns for Hange due to them being non-binary, hope y'all don't mind. :)

"HANGEEEE!" screaming down the hallway near the university laboratory, you entered said place joltily.

By this time all the science students were used you to coming by everyday while causing a ruckus to meet your significant other. You couldn't help yourself being always excited to see the only person who could make your day a million times better and today as usual you had something interesting to show them. Well, by interesting you meant something random you saw that day and just picked it up to give it to Hange. Never were they ever weird out by this as they were as eccentric as you.

"Look what I found today!" proudly bringing your hand close to their face to show them the red rock you saw in your yard.

"Heh, as usual my dear y/n, you never fail to fascinate me," they chuckled eyeing the objet closely.

"I shall add this wonderful rock to my series of collection of stuff you keep bringing to me everyday!" smilingly Hange took it.

This brought a faint blush on your cheeks as just the thought of Hange keeping the random stuff you bringing daily made you feel somewhat special.

" Sooo, what are you working on today?" you questioned them while looking at the equipment on the table.

"Ohohoho you don't know what I've just made!" they excitedly said dexterously arranging the mess to show you.

While they were enthusiastically explaining to you her recent invention, you couldn't help but stare at their jolliness. The way they made absolutely anything sound captivating just spellbound you. To describe it, it was like a meteor shower falling enlightening the night sky which you could gaze for hours, yeah, that's how Hange was.

"Hihi, that's awesome! I'm so proud of you!" you praised her happily.

"Hehe, I'm glad you appreciated my invention, after all I am your better half," haughtily they said which made you subconsciously smile.

Right at that moment a loud thunder was heard making you jump. Since morning it's been cloudy and you really hoped that it wouldn't rain in the evening as it would pose a problem for you to travel home by bus. The droplets were hitting hard against the window panes indicating it was a heavy shower. Disappointment filled your being.

"Noo, now how would I reach the bus stop on time with this weather," you complained utterly dejected and tensed.

"You know y/n, you can always ask me for a ride in my car right?" Hange said while pouring a clear liquid in a testing tube.

"I know but I don't wanna bother you."

"Oh come-on y/n, how can you ever bother me?" they reassured, "and if you really don't want to sound like a trouble then come over to my appartment. It's win-win situation, you reach home and I would get more time to spend with you."

"W-what, Hange please, ugh okay then I'll come with you," sighing you responded.

Waiting for Hange to finish up whatever they were doing but it wasn't as though you as a finance student would understand it to be able to help her out. Instead you were scrolling on Tiktok when they came up to you without warning making you jerk, "GOSH HANGE! YOU COULD HAVE CALLED FOR ME."

Chuckling, Hange grabbed your hand to make you stand up. Losing your footing, you fell in their arms which they gladly grabbed you. Giving you a brief forehead kiss, they proceeded to drag you to the parking lot. At first you didn't process the action making you scream but when you got the hang of it, you ran alongside with them hand in hand laughing.

Hange unlocked the car and you got into the front passenger seat. Both of you were laughing while still catching your breaths.

"Now off to my house we gooo!" Hange yelled as you were wearing your seatbelt.

Throughout the whole ride both of you conversed about each of your days and the daily news.

"Can you believe that Sasha and Nicollo are finally going out with each other? I always knew that they were a match made in heaven," you rambled as Hange listened to you intently while also focusing on the road.

"I mean I could see it happening seeing their compatibility and the way they complete each other, just like you complete me," Hange added.

Her last words made your face heat up which you hid by looking outside. Luckily for you, you finally reached your destination. It wasn't the first you came over to her appartement so you took her keys and ran inside. Normally her place would be messy like a dumpster because that human barely had time in her hands to take care of their house but for once it was spotless clean.

"Did Levi come over?" you asked them, hand on your hip.

"I-yeah. Yesterday he did. But I swear I'll try to be more responsible from now on!" Hange affirmed.

You took a deep breath and asked, "so what are we eating tonight?"

"I don't know y/n, you choose," they replied kicking their boots off to enter the residence.

"How about we order Pizza?"

"Sure thing love," grabbing her phone to order said food, Hange said.

"How about you go take a bath while I take out plates?" you suggested.

"I mean only if you're willing to join me," they smirked while leaning on the door.

Out of embarrassment you threw a pillow laying on the couch at her, "NO!"

"Sad, I was really hoping for some fun in there," they replied before running into the bathroom as you were about to hit them with another pillow.

While you waited for her to come out so that you in your turn could go freshen up, you arranged everything to be able to eat. Having such nights with Hange is always something you've dreamt of doing but you never had the courage to ask.

A few moments later, Hange came out with hair dripping wet which they were trying to dry with a towel. Damn they looked hot in that condition. Before you could start simp over them, you excused yourself to go bathe.

Feeling the warm water touch your skin evaporated all your stress from you as you relaxed. Coming out of the bathroom wearing Hange's clothes, you went to sit next to them on the couch. You noticed that the pizza had already arrived so you took a piece of it to eat. You two watched this popular series called 'Attack on titan' together until the pizza was finished.

Throwing the pizza cardboard in the bin, you went to see Hange already laying on the bed. Scooting to them, you placed your head on their shoulder as they held you tight with one arm and the other holding their phone. You were watching memes with her laughing when suddenly there was a video of two girls kissing came up which made your heart beat faster. You could tell Hange felt so as well as she swiped quickly to prevent awkwardness.

A little bit of tension remained in both of you yet no one made the first move. It kept growing as you felt their hot breath on your face because you were leaning on them.

Feeling bothered and assuming that Hange wasn't going to initiate it, you snatched their phone from their hand and kept it on the table next to the bed for you to straddle on them.

Shifting yourself to be more comfortable, you leaned down to smack your lips against theirs. Still processing whatever just happened, Hange went with the flow. For this moment at least. Hands on your ass, they squeezed them as you laid your body on theirs.

Lips still crashed against each others and tongues still fighting over control, Hange's minds began to fill with sexual fantasies that they could enact on you in this precise moment.

Pulling back from you, they settled your body on the bed to go search for something in the wardrobe. They came back with a blindfold facing you.

"Do you mind if I take your vision away for a while? I don't want to ruin the surprise of what I'm going to do to you."

Gulping hardly you took the black cloth and blinded yourself.

"Good girl," Hange praised giving you a headpat to continue their rummage.

With no warnings, you were pushed on the bed lightly. At first you didn't understand what was going on but that was before you felt a rope on your wrists which was being wrapped around them individually then pulled upwards signaling it was being tied down to the bed. The same thing was done for both of your legs.

Anticipation mounted in you as you felt hands running from your chest to your stomach.

"I hope that the ropes are not too tight, are they?" they concernedly asked.

You shaked your head to say no still having the blindfold on.

"No? Well, then I think you would love this being in your mouth," they said coming closer to you. You were expecting her to stuff her fingers in but it ended up being something you certainly didn't anticipate at all.

Holding your head up, they made you wear it. Initially it was uncomfortable but you managed to deal with it as it only turned you on more. It was a gag ball.

You laid your head on a pillow desperately craving Hange's touch but of course they were still searching for something.

"Don't worry y/n, I'll come to you as soon as I find that one thing I bought last week I wanted to test out," Hange spoke from the other side of the room.

Trying to keep your growing lust in control, you fidgeted with the device in your mouth.

" Ah-ha! found it, now wait for me y/n, I'll fuck you into oblivion soon," their voice coming out breathless.

Feelings the sides of the bed sink and a presence hoving above you, you became more excited to what Hange was going to do this time.

Their soft lips colliding again against yours as their hands ran down to unbutton your shirt leaving your bare chest naked as you weren't wearing any undergarments. For a few seconds Hange didn't do anything. As you were ripped from your eyesight, you couldn't see that Hange was in fact staring at the prefect roundness of your boobs displayed to them .

Unable to contain themselves, they ran their tongue on one of your breasts while the other was being fondled with their hands. Your breathing was quickening at their doings. Out of nowhere they bit your nipple softly making you bit the gagball stifling a moan.

Going lower on you they pulled down your pants while they kissed you on your bellybutton. Without warning again you felt a pain on your hip and teeth leaving your skin. Biting you again on the other side of your hip, Hange caressed your inner thighs. This time you couldn't contain the moan as it escaped your mouth through the gag ball.

Looking at your entrance, Hange saw that though they didn't yet completely lay hands on you, you were soaking wet. Then they assumed that it was probably from the long amount of time you had to wait for them.

You heard the opening of the cap of a tube. Your mind raced through all the possibilities of what it could be.

But of course it was the least thing you could expect as you felt something touching your cunt.

It was a lukewarm rubbery thing that was being ran through your swollen folds.

"Wanna guess what it is? Y/n," Hange said as you felt the object or whatever it was penetrate you. An 'hmm' came out of you as your back arched graciously making Hange widen their eyes.

"Ahaha, y/n you beautiful creature! You never cease to amaze me the more I explore you,"Hange complimented pushing the thing deeper into you.

" Lemme reward you for blessing me with his gorgeous sight and return you back your vision, "they continued.

Your insides felt empty as Hange had to remove the item to open the blindfold. You must say you had quite of the shocker to see them. Straddling you was a Hange that you didn't recognize.

They were wearing a black lingerie delicately complimented with black thigh highs and on their pelvis area was a strap-on-dildo.

"I wanted to experiment this on you," they gave you a light smirk before positioning themselves in front of your pussy. Taking the small bottle thrown on the bed nearby, Hange opened it. It was lube. Dropping quite some on the dildo, Hange jerked it to spread the lubricant.

Placing their hand on your hips for support, Hange inserted it again.

They couldn't describe how much they ravished to look at you in this state. As they were thrusting their hips in and out, the room became filled with your moans and Hange's name.

"Yes y/n scream my name louder. Make the neighbours hear how good I'm making you feel," Hange panted.

'Hmmm Hange I'm getting close, go faster please, "you begged them.

Taking your wishes into consideration, Hange did not double up the speed but rather trippled it. You were practically shaking on the bed as your screams got louder and louder.

Not late enough, you released yourself on them. The pleasure was so unbearable it almost hurted. Panting on the bed, you looked at the ceiling to regain control of yourself. Then looking back at Hange, only to see that they were already staring at you lovingly.

"Can you untie me now? I need to pee," you coughed.

"Ahaha, no piss on the bed," Hange declared as you were startled by their statement.

"Just kidding lemme help you refresh yourself," Hange joked making you feel relieved.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[themandylion]

97 & 41 jaytim

Oh wow, this ended up long. /o\

97 (Time Travel) + 41 (First Kiss) + JayTim

He's boosting tires in the Bowery when the thugs find him. Crowd him up against a wall and threaten him with bodily harm for horning in on their territory, even though this part of the city is a free-for-all, with no one reigning supreme. There's three of them to his one, all of them full-grown men with bulging muscles and nasty tempers and Jason knows he's in his final moments, that there's no way he's escaping this. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to go down without a fight. He squares his shoulders, plants his feet, raises the tire iron in his hand, and—

Between one blink and the next, the back-most thug is on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch. There's a blur of red, and then the next one's down on his knees, the crowbar he was gripping half a block away and the hand that was holding it pinned to the wall by a slim, sharp-edged disk.

Silver flashes through the night, and the final guy collapses in a heap, just sprawled out on the pavement like he's not even human anymore, just a pile of discard clothes over something lumpy and unmoving. Someone lands on his back, light and nimble and impossibly tall. "You okay there, kid?" the new person asks, crouching down so he's at Jason's level and smiling.

"…Batman?" He's only ever seen the Bat from a distance before, but he's heard about the cape and cowl, and this guy has both.

The guy shakes his head. "Nope, not him. I'm his partner, though."

"Robin wears green," Jason feels compelled to point out, because he's definitely seen Robin before, though always on the TV, when the Teen Titans are fighting really scary bad guys elsewhere in the world.

This time, a shadow seems to pass over the man's face, sad and unhappy. "I'm a different kind of Robin. Red Robin. I'm pretty new, it's not surprising you haven't heard of me." He leans back on his heels and glances around at the thugs, frowning. "I've got to tie these guys up and leave them somewhere the GCPD will find them. Do you think you can get home on your own?"

Jason gulps, staring up at him, at the way all that tight leather and spandex hugs his body. Gee whiz. "Yeah, I. I can take care of myself. Thanks!" He surges forward, practically smacking his mouth against Red Robin's cheek, before running off into the night. Maybe not headed home, but to as close as anything gets, these days.

---

Two weeks later, Batman catches him boosting tires on Crime Alley. A week later, he's going home with the man. Jason asks about Red Robin and gets a confused, clueless look, which is strange. With everything else happening, he forgets about the man in the black cowl with the silver staff, but he still finds himself drawn to that one particular shade of red.

---

He forgets until the memory is jarred out of the deepest depths years later on the other side of the multiverse, when he's bound to a chair and staring down the barrel of gun. A gun held by another Batman, a different Bruce. One who did all the things he thought he wanted his Bruce to do, only to end up a broken man as a result. Jason tries to explain himself and his presence, but it's hard to when he keeps seeing that suit in the case over this Batman's shoulder.

They reach an understanding, a kind of peace. Both of them, finally, for the first time in ages. This other Bruce offers him the suit, and Jason doesn't think twice before putting it on. He's traveled across the multiverse, seen places where dead people live again, where evil people are good and vice versa. It's not too far a stretch to believe that somehow, he's going become his own childhood hero.

When he finishes pulling on the last piece, Bruce looks on him with pride and announces, "Red Robin lives!"

"Red…?" Jason murmurs, more than a little startled. It's been so long, he'd nearly forgotten the name, but it fits, it makes sense. Finally, he's back on the right path, back to being someone the boy he once was could be proud of. Will be proud of, when their paths cross again, which he's sure they will.

---

The other Batman dies.

---

They get back, finally done traveling across the multiverse, fleeing across Apokolips, running from plagues and maybes and might-have-beens. Donna and Rayner return to wherever they call home, and Jason... He thought he finally found himself when he put on the cowl and became Red Robin, but with everything that happened after that moment, all the contrition he gained has been too long stewing in a half-broken heart. He isn't sure who rescued him when he was a kid, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't the long-dead Jason of another world. Maybe it was no one at all, and he made it all up and convinced himself it was real.

He runs back to Gotham, strips off the cape and cowl, the bandoliers and leather. Throws it all in the trash and goes to knock some heads and blow off some steam, anything to escape from what the rest of the Justice League brought with them—a sob story and a broken, days-old body.

---

The suit disappears from the can where he threw it, and he thinks good riddance to bad rubbish, but the person who's wearing it now doesn't understand the significance, the legacy. Doesn't know what it symbolizes, a last chance at redemption, a final loss of innocence.

The new kid distracts him, muddies the water and still Jason doesn't see it, doesn't realize what's happening. Even when the kid takes the cowl, adds it to his green-free suit, he doesn't see it.

Jason's too busy fighting, too busy screaming, raging, being angry at himself and the world to realize how things are swirling tighter and tighter, closing in, twining together, weaving themselves in an intricate, impossible mesh that's new and old and always existing all at the same time. The three of them—him and Dick and the new kid—push and shove and fight and scream and grieve in their own ways, trying to figure out who they're going to be now, what the world is without Bruce.

He ignores overtures of friendship, leaves the kid broken and bleeding out and thinks nothing of it, still too busy hurting and too busy denying he hurts.

Thinks nothing of Robin back on the streets in red and green and black and yellow, a different boy, an actual child.

---

Bruce comes back, but he's just as stubborn as always, and Jason burned the last of his bridges while the old man was playing possum. There's nothing left for him to do but lurk in the shadows and grit his teeth and watch Drake bounce around the city in a costume that isn't his, telling himself he doesn't care, that it doesn't rub him the wrong way.

Doesn't actually realize what's happening until one day he's watching as Drake races across the city, ready to step in and stop him if he dares to cross into Red Hood's territory when suddenly—

There's no one. The roof's empty, not a soul in sight.

He swings over, investigates. There's a strange acrid smell in the air along with the faintest traces of sweat and exhaustion, but there's no clue to where he's gone, no hint. Minutes pass and the sky is getting darker as evening turns into night. Just when he's given up, Drake reappears, but still, unmoving. One hand grasping his staff while the other touches his cheek and he stares into nothing, dazed and unfocused.

His attention snaps up, and Jason is too startled to move, still standing there in the middle of the roof, the two of them locked in place.

"Holy fuck." He can't. This isn't—

He's tried to kill Drake multiple times over the years. They've barely had a conversation that hasn't ended with Jason drawing a knife or a gun, and more often than not he comes out on top. Leaves the guy knowing that he's alive at Jason's mercy.

But now he's standing there, finally grown into the Red Robin suit and name, filling it in all the right places, all the right ways, grasping a staff that Jason somehow failed to recognize until this exact moment.

"I never—" He never thought to make the connection, always assumed it had to be someone else, some one huge. Big enough to match the larger-than-life figure that dominated a half-forgotten memory.

"Huh." Red Robin collapses his staff, clips it his belt. "Random time blip? I didn't even realize."

Which would explain it. Of course he didn't realize—no way would he have helped that other, younger Jason if he'd known who it was. Why save a boy who's going to grow up to become a monster bent on destroying him over and over again. "Sorry," Jason says, startled, confused, unable to wrap his head around it all as he stumbles backwards, tries to do what he always does when he's confronted with too much, too fast—run.

Red Robin—Drake—tilts his head to the side and then does something completely unexpected. He shoves back the cowl and studies Jason with cool, clear eyes. "I have a feeling this has been a weird night for both of us. You could stick around. We could figure this out together."

So help him, Jason hesitates. "Time travel is pretty weird."

"I was thinking more being kissed by my childhood crush. But yeah, that too."

"Your… what?"

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I think it's time we finally talked. Maybe without the death threats this time?"

Gulping, Jason takes that hand in his.

It's not much, but. It's a start.

(The Fanfic Trope MASH-UP is still open for asks!)

[tripleaxeldiaz]

like it’s a little secret, like it’s all he has to give

for @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels <3

read on ao3

He didn’t mean for this to happen.

Well, no. He wanted it to happen, had been planning to make it happen with a lot more wooing and sweeping off of feet to get them to a perfect moment where he could tell Buck exactly how much he loves him and needs him in his life.

So he did want it to happen, of course. He just didn’t expect it to happen like it did — after a night out with the team, in the dim light of his living room, during a tipsy game of Truth or Dare like they were in high school again. Buck had said, “Dare”, and the three beers and two shots swimming in Eddie’s brain said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

And he did.

And one kiss turned into two, turned into making out on Eddie’s couch, turned into stumbling blindly toward the bedroom, turned into fingertips burning trails up backs, whispered confessions into necks, and muffled moans of yes and more and please and Eddie.

So it happened. It’s still happening.

That isn’t the problem. 

The problem is that it happened six months ago and they still haven’t told anyone.

It’s not that they don’t trust their friends or that they aren’t serious about each other. In fact, they’re probably too serious about each other, about making this the thing that sticks. The morning after their first night together, they talked for hours about their past failed relationships and insecurities, laying every, ugly part out for each other to see.

“I just want to be enough,” Eddie said, throat as raw as his insides felt. 

Buck’s hand slid up his back to scratch through his hair. “You’re more than enough for me. And I’d like to stick around and prove that to you, as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever, ideally.”

“Forever it is.”

“I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Buck shrugged. “So will I. Maybe we give ourselves some time — fuck things up quietly before we let other people know?”

Eddie kissed Buck again, softly, soundly, relief surging through him because Buck gets it and wants to make this work and, this way, he feels like they may actually have a chance.

So that was that. Nothing really changed — Buck was still at the Diaz house more often than not, but now sleepovers meant Buck was in bed with Eddie instead of on the couch (except for the half hour before Chris woke up when Buck snuck out to the living room). They were still a dynamic duo on calls, they just also had each other after calls now too, especially bad ones. They were able to get to know each other as boyfriends instead of just best friends, figure out what they wanted and needed from a relationship, and smooth out the bumps they hit on their own, without any outside influence.

Now, they’re in a good spot. The best spot. And six months is a long time to keep quiet about something that makes Eddie so happy he could explode. But—

“They’re gonna be mad,” he says, head pillowed in Buck’s lap, absently picking at the label of his empty beer bottle. Buck hums, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair, the TV softly playing some reality show about a yacht crew.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for us too?”

“They probably have a betting pool going on us. Then they’ll be mad and gloating.”

Buck’s hand stills on his head. “Eddie, if you don’t want to—”

Eddie scrambles up to sitting, taking both of Buck’s hands in his because he’s stopping that train of thought right now. “I do want to. I really do. I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

Eddie nods, absently placing a kiss inside Buck’s wrist as he gathers his thoughts. “I trust you. More than anything. And I trust us. I just don’t trust anything else, not yet. We’ve been in our own little world for a while, I just need to get used to that not being the case anymore.” 

Buck’s quiet for a minute before he leans forward, kissing Eddie’s forehead. “I don’t really trust anything else either. I’m happy to wait and follow your lead. As long as you know you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie kisses him quickly before laying back down, Buck’s hand automatically threading into his hair again. “You’re stuck with me, too. Even when cute, injured bikers try to steal me away—”

He feels a sharp tug on his hair. “I knew you did that on purpose!”

Buck’s jealous streak is a mile wide, Eddie’s known that since the day they met. So what if he’s exploited it a little while they’ve been sneaking around? How could he have known for sure that a little extra flirting on a call would get him blown within an inch of his life in a storage closet as soon as they got back to the station? He’d surely expected it, but…

Whatever. Sue him. His boyfriend’s hot when he’s territorial, and he’s only a man.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie should have known the universe would start fucking with them almost immediately.

The team has never been shy about trying to set both of them up — there’s always a friend of a friend or a second cousin or a neighbor that would be perfect for, as Hen so lovingly puts it, “our hot and lonely coworkers”. It’s only gotten worse in the past month or so, when a team trivia night turned into a team-and-significant-others trivia night, “forcing” Buck and Eddie to pair up to even things out. Ever since, he’s been cornered almost every day by Hen and/or Chim, each with a handful of people that would love to take Eddie out to dinner, and he knows they do the same to Buck. He’s pretty sure they have a shared spreadsheet about it.

“Come on Eddie, Nick is great! He’s tall, he owns a gym, his dog is cute—”

“Chim,” Eddie cuts him off, pulling his head out of the fridge to face Chimney and Hen seated at the island. He could end it now, just tell them I don’t want to go out with your new personal trainer because I already have a boyfriend, but it’s the middle of shift and everyone is still lingering from lunch and...it’s too much right now. Over Chim’s shoulder, he can see Buck looking at him from the couch, probably thinking the same thing (because they do that a little too often). Buck just raises his eyebrows and shrugs, saying I’m following your lead. Eddie falls a little bit more in love with him.

He focuses back on Hen and Chim. “I appreciate you guys worrying about me in your own weird way, but I’m fine. Plus, I have a thing and Chris’ school Thursday night anyway.” 

He does not have a thing at Chris’ school, and he feels bad using his kid like this, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

Hen holds up her hands as Chim deflates just a little. “Fine fine,” she says. “We know you’re busy.” She looks at Chim, and they have a quick conversation with their eyebrows before he gets up and slowly walks toward Buck.

“So, Buck, my dear pseudo brother-in-law. How’s your Thursday—”

Buck doesn’t even look up from his book. “No. Maddie and I are having a wine night, and we’re gonna talk shit about you the entire time.”

Chim squawks at that, and Eddie does a bad job of turning his laugh into a cough. It does get them to back off for the rest of the week, though Eddie resigns himself to this vicious cycle of theirs until he can finally shake the feeling that everything he and Buck have been building will dissolve through his fingertips as soon as they let anyone else in. 

It’s vicious but predictable. Easy to follow, easy to get ahead of. It gives Eddie a little room to breathe while he sorts his head out.

Naturally, that’s when Abuela decides to get involved.

Eddie’s never been able to refuse her anything — that’s how he ended up at her house on his day off in the first place, fixing a broken dryer and tightening cabinets and anything else she happens to remember she needs while he’s here. He really doesn’t mind, and he’s happy to spend any time with her that he can, but she’s been...prying. All day. As casually as she can, but he can tell she’s fishing for something. 

“Edmundo,” she says as they sit down for lunch. “You’re telling me you can’t even remember the last time you went on a date?”

Of course he can — he and Buck haven’t been able to go on many “normal” dates since they got together, but they did manage to coordinate a weekend in Ojai a few weeks back where all they did was eat, lounge by the pool, and have sex in their much-too-fancy-for-them hotel room. 

That counts as a couple of dates, right?

He shrugs instead. “I’ve been busy. Between work and Chris, I’ve just got a lot on my plate. I don’t really have time for dating.” And I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy about it, he thinks.

“Of course,” she says. She keeps eating like that’s the end of that, but he knows there’s something else. When she finishes, she pushes her plate aside and looks at him dead on, with that There’s no way you’re getting out of this look in her eyes. “You know, if you did want to get out there again, my friend Diana has a granddaughter around your age that just moved to LA and wants to meet some people.”

There it is.

“Abuela, I really don’t think—” 

“It doesn’t have to be a date, it can just be dinner! The two of you getting to know each other. She’s sweet, she’s beautiful, and she’s a teacher, so she’s great with kids. At the very least, she could be a good friend.” She reaches across the table and grabs his hand in both of hers. “You work too hard, Edmundo. You deserve to do something nice for yourself, and that can be as easy as going out to a nice restaurant with a pretty girl for one night.”

He should tell her. He should tell her everything, even though Buck’s not here, even though he still has a stupid voice in his head telling him that as soon as their bubble pops, the likelihood of everything going belly up will skyrocket. He doesn’t want to lead this poor girl on, but Abuela is also looking at him all sad and hopeful, because she does want him to be happy, and—

“Fine. One dinner.”

Abuela cheers, actually cheers, and hugs him tightly before getting her phone. She calls Diana to set everything up themselves, rather than giving Eddie the girl’s — Chelsea’s — number. By the time he leaves, they’re set for 8pm next Friday at an Italian place downtown, and they each have a description of what the other will be wearing. “Like a real blind date,” Abuela says, and Eddie tries not to actually kick himself for falling into this trap.

He needs to get out of this. Abuela wouldn’t give him her number (“so your first meeting will be as magical as possible”), so he’ll just have to tell her right from the start on Friday. He feels bad, but hopefully she’s as nice as he’s been told and she takes it okay. And should he tell Buck? Probably, but is it even an issue if he’s not actually going through with the date? Buck’s working an overnight on Friday, so he won’t even be around when he’s supposed to be out. He could smooth it all over himself and then really sit down and get his shit together to figure out how they’re going to tell everyone, so no more fake dates happen ever again. 

He’s got this. It’s not his best idea ever, but it’ll have to do. Everything will be totally fine.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Eds? You home?”

Shit.

Eddie scrambles to shut his bedroom door, tripping over himself in the process and landing flat on his back. That’s how Buck finds him, and his stomach drops as he watches Buck’s face switch between worry and confusion as he takes in Eddie’s button down and slacks.

“Uh, hey,” he says. Buck offers a hand to help him up. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m on my way, just needed to grab my phone charger,” Buck says as he pulls Eddie up, checking him out again like he’s confirming that his brain isn’t playing tricks on him. “You’re awfully dressed up for your night off.”

Eddie sighs heavily through his nose. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, and if he had left 10 minutes earlier like he meant to it would have been fine. But now Buck’s here, and he refuses to lie to him. He’s already been lying by omission enough this week.

“Abuela kinda set me up for dinner with her friend’s granddaughter,” he says quickly, panicking when Buck’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go pale. “But,” he moves closer, placing both hands firmly on Buck’s shoulders, taking it as a good sign that he doesn’t pull away, “I’m just going long enough to tell her that I’m very taken and this whole thing was a mistake. I promise, nothing was ever going to happen.” Buck does pull away then, and Eddie’s hands fall heavily back to his sides. “Buck, please—”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But Eds, I told you I’d follow your lead when it came to telling people about us, and if that meant fake dating other people that’s cool, I just wish you talked to me about it first. We’ve got to communicate and stuff, we’re on the same team here.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says. He slowly reaches for Buck’s hands, relieved again when he lets him. “I should have told you. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and I didn’t want you to worry or think things were bad with us, because they’re not. But still. I’m sorry.” Buck doesn’t move, just stares at the floor. Eddie squeezes his hands. “Are we good?”

Buck finally looks up, and Eddie can’t get a read on his emotions like he usually can. But he squeezes his hands back and gives him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re good. But I should get going.” He slips out of Eddie’s hands and out the front door without another word. 

There was no yelling or accusations or anything bad, really, but Eddie still feels gutted, like every fear he had about messing up is starting to manifest like he knew they would. He should go after Buck, tell him how much he loves him, how much he trusts him, but he’s 20 minutes late now, and when he pictures Chelsea standing all by herself in a crowded restaurant looking for him, he feels a whole different wave of guilt crash inside him.

He’s going to fix this, all of this. He has to. And he’s got a 30 minute drive to think of a new plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive ends up being closer to an hour, and all Eddie does is convince himself that the next time Buck sees him, he’s going to realize that Eddie’s not good enough for him and break up with him on the spot.

The restaurant is loud and crowded, lit mainly by the low candles placed on each table. Eddie’s eyes scan the room until he spots her at the bar — emerald dress and gold heels, just like Diana had told him. He slides into the empty seat next to her, awkwardly waving to get her attention. “Chelsea?”

She looks at him with a warm smile. “Edmundo, right?”

“Eddie’s fine.” He steals himself, figures ripping the band-aid right off is probably the best thing to do. “Look, I’m really sorry—”

“That’s not a great way to start a date.”

Guilt curls tighter in his stomach and up his arms. “This has been a huge misunderstanding. I’m kind of— I’m already in a relationship, and we haven’t told anyone, and my abuela was just trying to help, and she knows I can’t say no to her, and now everything is falling apart.” He feels even worse dumping all this on a woman he’s known for three minutes, but his brain seems to be doing its own thing at the moment, he’s just along for the ride.

She looks at him for a minute, before waving the bartender over. “Well, you’re here, and you sound like you’re about to lose your mind. Have one drink with me, and tell me everything.”

So he orders a Jack on the rocks and spills his guts — tells her about Buck, about why they kept everything under wraps, his plans to fix everything, how he’s so fucking scared that once everyone knows and their little fantasy world is gone, Buck will realize that he can do better, that he deserves better, and Eddie will have to put himself back together somehow. He’s not sure exactly how long he talks, but Chelsea listens intently to every word, and Eddie actually feels better when he’s done.

She finishes the last of her gin and tonic and looks him right in the eye. “I know we just met, but can I be real with you?”

Eddie nods as he knocks back his own drink.

“Your plans suck.”

He laughs and almost shoots whiskey out of his nose. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to figure that out too.”

“Look — you love your boyfriend, right?” she asks as she hands him a napkin.

“Of course. More than anything.”

“And he loves you.”

He thinks about the way Buck looks at him, no matter where they are, like he's the only person worth looking at. How it took a little while, but now he actually feels worthy of a gaze like that. “Yeah, he does.”

She shrugs. “Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about. You have each other — everything and everyone else is just background noise.”

It’s such a simple thing, something Eddie’s known for months now, but hearing it come from someone else gives his mind that final shove that makes everything click into place and finally stick. They do have each other, he and Buck are a team, on and off the clock. That’s not going to change, if anything because they’re both too stubborn and in too deep to let it change.

“I know you’re already a teacher, but you should seriously consider becoming a therapist if you ever switch careers.”

“Believe me, this is nothing compared to the middle school problems I deal with on a daily basis.”

He shudders at the very idea of dealing with that many 13 year olds. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks.” Slumping back in his chair, he scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t even know how to start fixing this.”

Chelsea hums, face scrunched as she thinks. “You said he’s at work right? With all your friends too?” Eddie nods. “Sounds like as good a time as any to tell them. And remind Buck that you're with him one hundred percent.”

Eddie’s never been one for big, romantic gestures, but she’s right, and this is for Buck. He’ll do pretty much anything for Buck.

He stands, takes some cash out of his wallet for their drinks and places it on the bar. “Thank you Chelsea, seriously. This was...weird, and not a good first impression of me, but you’re a lifesaver.”

She smiles that warm smile again, and it feels real, no trace of pity or awkwardness. “No problem, I’m happy to help. Maybe we can get coffee sometime, as friends? I didn’t get a chance to dive into my own relationship woes.”

“Deal,” he says, laughing as he hands her his phone to actually get her number. They hug goodbye, and he all but sprints out the door and back to his truck, mind already racing trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do once he gets to the firehouse. 

If he’s honest, this “date” really couldn’t have gone any better. He hopes the rest of his night turns out just as positive, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

The team’s in between calls when Eddie finally arrives, which is great but also does not give him a lot of time to prepare himself for whatever comes next. Rationally, he knows everything will be fine — the team will be thrilled for them, Buck will be thrilled — but there’s still that nagging voice telling him that Chelsea was wrong and that everything’s going to blow up in his face.

He shoves that voice as far away as he can and walks into the station.

There’s no plan this time beyond “find Buck”, which he does pretty quickly once he gets up to the loft. Everyone else is up here too, it seems, but he sees Buck first, curled up on the couch and watching Hen and Chim play Super Smash Bros. He has that same blank look he had on his face when he left Eddie’s earlier, and Eddie hates it. But that’s exactly what he came here to fix.

Buck double takes when he notices him at the top of the stairs, slowly unfurling himself to stand. “What are you doing here?”

A thousand thoughts fly through his head, trying to coalesce into some sweeping romantic speech that would reassure Buck of all the things Eddie’s sure he’s doubting right now. But nothing feels right, nothing even begins to scratch the surface of what Eddie’s feeling, has been feeling for the past months. Everything is fleeting and empty, pale in comparison to the technicolor love he feels every time Buck so much as looks in his direction.

Words aren’t working, but Eddie really isn’t a man of words anyway — he is, however, and man of action.

“I’m communicating,” he says, taking three long strides across the loft to Buck, grabbing his face in both of his hands, and kissing him hard. He tastes like smoke and peppermint and something fundamentally Buck that Eddie’s addicted to, and he feels a smile against his lips as Buck kisses him back in earnest. He’s not sure if it’s been seconds or years when they finally pull away from each other, but they’re both breathless and Buck is glowing and Eddie doesn’t care about anything else.

“I love you,” he says, hands still on Buck’s cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I’m always on your team, as long as you’ll let me be there.” 

Buck’s smile somehow gets even bigger. “Forever, ideally.”

Eddie’s laugh bubbles out of him as he leans back in, but stops when he hears a throat clearing somewhere to his right. He looks, and everyone — everyone, including people who were definitely downstairs when he got here — is staring at them with varying degrees of shock and excitement on their faces. Ripping the band-aid off works in his favor again.

“So,” Hen says slowly from the couch. “This is new.”

Eddie shrugs as he grabs Buck’s hand. “Not really. Unless six months old is new, I guess.”

“Six months old?”

“Closer to seven, actually,” Buck says.

There’s a clatter as Chim drops his controller and stands, arms up over his head. “That means I win!”

“Whoa, hold on, you do not—”

The loft erupts as everyone swarms Hen, talking technicalities and logistics of what was apparently a very elaborate betting pool. Buck hides his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs.

“Do you think they’re actually happy for us?” Eddie asks. “Or mad that we screwed up their winnings?”

Buck looks up, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably both. But I’m the real winner here.”

“And a huge cheeseball,” Eddie says.

“Better get used to it, because you’re not getting rid of me,” Buck says, winding his arms around Eddie’s waist and kissing him again.

“Forever, right?” Eddie asks as they break apart, foreheads resting together. All he sees are Buck’s eyes, sparkling blue in the light of the loft and so full of happiness — happiness because of Eddie — that he wants to drown in them.

“Yeah. Forever. No turning back now.”

Eddie likes the sound of that.

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[angelhummel]

why do you think Blaine cheating wasn't that bad? i know Kurt wasn't great and basically ignored him but how is cheating the answer? especially when he visited Kurt soon after and could've had a conversation? (just to clarify I love Blaine and Klaine, i just thought Blaine was totally wrong to cheat)

oof okay i’m going to try and like bullet point things bc if i expanded on every single argument then we’d be here for hours lol

Blaine was already insecure about Kurt leaving him behind, saying Kurt would have new friends, a new life, etc. Already feeling like Kurt was moving on without him

He thought those fears were coming true after Kurt had been in NY for weeks (if not months - weird timeline) and was starting to ignore him

People minimize it and say it was one missed phone call but it wasn’t

People also credit it to Kurt being busy at his job, which was hardly ever the case

We see Blaine looking sad when he’s trying to ask Kurt’s advice on what to wear - we know how much Kurt loves picking out Blaine’s clothes - and Kurt basically ignores the question and keeps talking about his video

Kurt cuts a call with Blaine short basically just to gossip with someone

And the missed phone call is late at night when he’s just hanging around schmoozing, not working

People also make it seem like Blaine was practically already on the way to see Kurt and couldn’t resist cheating like, minutes before he got to the airport lol

He had a scheduled visit in two weeks, which probably felt like an eternity when he’d already gone so long without seeing Kurt

We see Blaine struggle throughout the show with all sorts of problems. Depression, low self esteem, body dysmorphia, abandonment issues, feeling like he always has to be in control. He’s not a bad person for feeling these things. And this is when they all sort of collide and lead to something he will, and obviously does regret

We even hear it straight from his mouth. He felt like Kurt was moving on without him. Long distance is hard. In his eyes, going for one visit after weeks and weeks apart was probably like putting a bandaid over a bullet wound

He thought there was no point in talking because he thought his relationship was as good as over

He jumped to the worst conclusions, like he also has a tendency to do. And he fucked up. And he knew he fucked up

Literally immediately after this fuck up he rushes to NY to talk to Kurt. To come clean about everything and confess what he did and hopefully start to make things right again

I know that comparing a bad thing to a worse thing doesn’t make the bad thing good but. He didn’t cheat bc he was bored, he didn’t cheat bc he needed the ego boost, he didn’t cheat to get revenge. He didn’t make a habit of it. He didn’t manipulate anyone. He didn’t lie about what he did, or go as long as he could without telling Kurt the truth

99% of the characters on this show cheated, usually for the most petty and asinine reasons. Blaine is one of the few that actually makes sense story and characterwise. It goes beyond some stupid “serial cheater”, “constantly juggling two girls” or “break up with your boyfriend, I’m bored” motive that every other cheater seemed to have

And I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to vague anyone in this post. But I saw someone say “if Blaine loved Kurt as much as he did, he should’ve felt comfortable enough to be vocal about his insecurities”. Love is not a cure all for any negative feelings brought on by a person’s mental illness. Blaine’s love for Kurt, and his inability to always eloquently express what’s wrong with him, actually have very little to do with each other. And these insecurities get brought up again in s5 and we see Blaine continuing his struggle in working through them. It’s a hugely significant part of his character arc

And I won’t hear any “it’s not that deep” excuse bc in s6 Blaine outright says he’s seeing a therapist and working on his mental health issues. We can’t pretend like his depression is just a fan theory with no in-show evidence to back it up

And just to clarify for myself, the above bullet points aren’t me trying to shit on Kurt or blame him for all of this. Same with all Klaine fights, I understand some of both sides but don’t think either one is necessarily right or wrong. It’s never all black and white with them. So while I honestly don’t like how Kurt was treating Blaine around this time, I don’t blame him for this, either. I don’t blame either of them

They’re just two teenage boys in over their heads and they take a few trials and errors to finally get things right and that’s okay. They learned from their mistakes and managed to grow closer and stronger from them in the end. And that’s all that matters, and that’s why I love them so much ♡♡

[petri808]

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Inukag AU

More and more the déjà vu moments started coming to Kagome, mostly smaller memories, but they were adding up. She’d taken the doctor’s advice and kept a small notebook in her purse in case a new one popped up. For example, she knew Inuyasha’s favorite food was ramen because she’d been told as much, but one day as she shopped in the supermarket and saw one of the brands on the shelf, her hand immediately reached out for it. Kagome placed it in her basket without a second thought until two aisles away it finally hit her— it wasn’t a flavor she liked. Sure enough, when she saw Inuyasha that afternoon he confirmed it was the brand and flavor he always bought.

Speaking of recall, Kagome had met Ms. Tanaka at a small cafe one Saturday and they sat at a table for four hours chatting. Kagome had been nervous about going. What would she say since she couldn’t remember anything about the job or company, but Ms. Tanaka was such a bubbly feisty person those anxieties had melted away within the first few minutes. She was brought up to speed on how the company was doing… along with the gossip or drama one might find in a close knit office like they had. So, and so just started dating, bought a new car, complaining about in-laws, news about children, etc. Kagome recognized the name of one child mentioned from when the coworker had taken maternity leave. It felt weird to now be told the child had started preschool, but she was just happy to have remembered the person at all. It was a good day with more to come because Ms. Tanaka invited her to a birthday party the following week at the office for one of their closest co-workers. Apparently, they were nicknamed the trio at work because they always took their lunches together. Their cubicles were next to each other so day in and day out they’d became each other’s family away from home.

“Hi, everyone.” Kagome smiled and waved even though her nerves were on edge. Ms. Tanaka wanted it to be a surprise, so she had no idea what the reaction would be… and it certainly wasn’t this!

A loud scream came from the other side of the room that left her startled. At first Kagome couldn’t see who or where it had come from over all the cubicles, but the next thing she knew she’d almost been tackled to the ground by a hug. It was the birthday girl, Ms. Fukuda.

“Oh, my Kami you came!” Fukuda pulled back her hands still gripped to Kagome’s shoulders. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming??”

“Tanaka wanted it be a surprise,” Kagome squeaked back.

“Well, this is definitely the best birthday gift I could’ve received!— Even if you don’t remember me.”

Kagome flinched a little, her cheeks heating up. “I’m sorry, I don’t, but I’m hoping being here will stimulate something.”

“No need to be sorry,” the woman hugged her again. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but let’s see if we can’t jog those memories!” Ms. Fukuda took Kagome’s hand and started dragging her deeper into the crowd. “Everyone! Look who’s here!”

Kagome stayed close to Tanaka and Fukuda throughout the visit, though the longer she stayed the more comfortable she became. There was tons of food to eat and desserts that left her full. People joked around, teasing Fukuda over a few gag gifts, but all in good fun. Kagome couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. Everyone was so nice and accommodating, never making her feel bad that she couldn’t remember them. Quite the contrary. The office staff talked and talked, bringing up story after story from the last few years. They seemed determined to play a role in helping Kagome to redeem her lost memories. Most of the staff were there when she’d started and so they had a lot of tales to tell.

“You had such a hard time with the ten-key machine,” Ms. Fukuda laughed. “I remember thinking oh kami, this young girl is gonna give me gray hair!”

Kagome chuckled. “And you weren’t quiet about pointing it out to me. Said I’ll have to cover the cost of hair dye if it did.”

The room full of laughter suddenly went silent as everyone turned to Kagome. Only a few gasps breaking the stillness to leave her utterly concerned. “Did I say something wrong?” Kagome questioned.

Ms. Fukuda broke the silence. “Y-You really remember that?”

“Remember…” Kagome repeated in confusion. All she did was comment— “Oh! Yeah, I guess I did…”

Fukuda squealed as she hugged onto Kagome. “Oh, my Kami! You remembered!”

“I-I remembered!” Tears began to stream down Kagome’s cheeks at how naturally the memories came back to her. “It took me a couple of months, but I got it down.”

“You did,” Ms. Fukuda whose own tears made their way to the scene, and Ms. Tanaka had joined in the hug. “And now you’re faster than me,” she snorted a laugh.

“Y-Yeah,” Kagome hiccupped a laugh too.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as everyone watched the friends sharing in such a beautiful moment. As the trio pulled apart, wiping away their tear stained faces, with the biggest smiles planted on them. Ms. Fukuda took Kagome’s hand a final time before letting go. “This truly was the best birthday gift, and I can’t wait for you come back to work.”

“Me, too.”

The party went on for a couple more hours, and by 4pm that afternoon it was winding down. Some office workers were tidying up, packing up leftovers or cleaning up any messes, while others went back to finishing up any company business that needed to be completed that day. A few core individuals such as the trio stayed chatting quietly around the cubicles. There was more than one conversation taking place, so Kagome ever eager to learn what she could did her best to stay engaged. Listening here and chiming in there. But then a name two cubicles away caught her attention.

‘Yura?’ Kagome wondered, who was this person and why was the name stirring up such a wave of anger and pain inside of her? The conversation she overheard seemed meaningless, just something about they were glad the person wasn’t there anymore. Okay, so that meant Yura was a former employee of the company. One person commented that they’d seen her at a new job in a department store selling makeup and the other responded with a scoffing sound, that it was a good fit for such a two-faced bitch. Well, obviously she wasn’t the only person who’d had an issue with this Yura woman. But who was she to her??

In order to figure it out, Kagome tapped on Ms. Tanaka’s shoulder to gain her attention. She whispered her question. “Who is Yura? Mr. Yoshida and Mr. Miyahira are talking about her.”

“Oh…” Ms. Tanaka looked warily at Ms. Fukuda before addressing Kagome’s question. “Are you sure you want to know? It, um… won’t be a very good memory.”

So, Yura was attached to an unhappy event in her life after all and her friends reaction’s just confirmed the initial feelings she’d felt. Kagome swallowed hard, would it be worth dredging up an unhappy memory or should she leave it buried away. It wasn’t the easiest decision to make, but if the woman’s name had triggered such a strong reaction, it must’ve played a significant role.

“J-Just tell me a little bit about her, maybe about when she’d worked here.”

Ms. Tanaka went first. “Okay. Well, um, she was here for about a year, and no one really liked her because she was rude and thought she was better than everyone else… but, when it came to you, Yura just had a real fixation on making your life miserable.”

“We didn’t know the real reason behind it all until the end,” added Ms. Fukuda. “At first, it was petty, childish things like stealing your lunch from the break room or leaving mean notes on your desk. But then it started to escalate and after several complaints to management, they finally fired her— You basically told the manager if they didn’t then you’d quit.”

“They chose you, and that’s what’s important.” Tanaka finished.

“But what do you mean the real reason behind it? Behind what?” Kagome asked.

Kagome’s question must’ve gave her two friends a real dilemma because they grew silent and hesitant to answer it. “Please? We’ve come this far you might as well just tell me.”

“It turned out that Yura was acting that way towards you because, she’s close friends with Inuyasha’s ex…”

“Oh…” Kagome’s eyes widened. “That’s right…” she sat back as the emotions took control. Kikyo was still a vague concept for her with only the bits and pieces she’d been able to put together, but the mention of the woman in conjunction with Yura brought on a flashback. “The cafe. They’d confronted me at a cafe on my lunch break…” Tears had welled up in Kagome’s eyes, but a sensation of anger was making her body tremble at the memory. “That’s what made me give management an ultimatum because it was just going to far.”

As the tears broke free, Kagome’s friends pulled together into a hug. Don’t cry! It’s okay! It was the past! Oh, please don’t be sad Kagome! She’s gone now, it’s gonna be okay! Once she was able to get the tears under control and convince them she’d be okay, they dropped the subject. But despite cheering Kagome up, the bitter feelings just wouldn’t go away. They sat in her gut stirring and brooding, knowing there was more to the story that she just couldn’t remember and that alone was frustrating. According to her friend’s, this incident happened just eight months before her accident, so it wasn’t ancient history. Had it contributed to the fight? It wasn’t beyond belief to think it had or at least added to the frustrations that led up to it.

When Inuyasha picked Kagome up from her workplace, he tried to make small talk. How’d it go? Did you have fun? She answered them in order, how it started out great and everyone was so nice and supportive, telling her stories and answering questions. Then she told him about blurting out a comment because she’d remembered the event.

“That’s awesome, babe!” Inuyasha squeezed her shoulder. “Your memories are coming back faster now!”

“Yeah, about that…” Kagome quieted as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. “There was something else that was triggered, a… not so great memory.”

“Oh?” He turned briefly to check on her before returning his eyes to the road. “Are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Um… well there was a woman that used to work there that I didn’t get along with…”

“That’s surprising.”

“Yeah, she um— Her name was Yura. But the reason we didn’t get along was because she’s a friend of your ex-girlfriend.”

Kagome instantly saw Inuyasha’s grip tighten on the steering wheel and the whites of his knuckles glaringly apparent. Clearly just the mention of Kikyo was enough to trigger an intense reaction.

She cleared her drying throat. “The company fired Yura about 8 months before the accident after she and Kikyo harassed me at a cafe during my lunch break.”

“You never told me about that. Kagome, why—”Inuyasha stopped mid-sentence as he felt his anger rise. He took a deep breath then lowered his tone. “Why didn’t you tell me about something that bad?”

“I’m not surprised…” she mumbled under her breath. She’d had an inkling that she’d never told him. “I think it was because I didn’t think you’d listen.”

“Of course, I would have listened! They were harassing you!”

“Look, Inuyasha, I don’t remember everything, but clearly there was a reason I didn’t tell you and based on everything you’ve told me yourself you weren’t listening! So, how can you even tell me you would have, when obviously you weren’t back then! You have no right to hold it against me now!”

“Kagome this is different, it affected your job and there were witnesses—”

“Oh?! So, because you’d believe the witnesses you would have believed me?! I don’t remember, but maybe there were other times there were witnesses and you didn’t listen— I DON’T KNOW THAT!”

“That’s not what I meant! I would have listened to you if you’d told me! You should have told me!”

“You know, I really thought you’d be different but if you still can’t admit about what drove me to leave that night, then I… I don’t know anymore…”

“That’s not fair…”

“J-just get me home! I-I just wanna go home Inuyasha! I can’t talk to you right now! There’s so much I can’t remember and since you admitted you hadn’t listened before, there’s nothing more to say.”

“Please Kagome—”

“Just stop. I’m done talking.” She’d had enough.

Her mind was spinning from all the gaps she couldn’t fill and the anger at his words. How could he deny it now when that’s one of the things he’d admitted to from the beginning. The last few minutes of the drive went by in silence and as soon as they reached the Higurashi residence, Kagome got out without a second look. All their months of hard work were now left behind with the slam of a car door and she had no idea how to salvage it.

[themusicplayedherlife]

To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

next

[cesium-sheep]

they’re powerwashing the exteriors so we’re supposed to bring everything inside, arin cleared out most of the spiders and put away some stuff in the shed that had just been sitting out earlier today, and I brought everything in once she went to bed (so she could still have porch time if she wanted it while she was awake).

bringing in our two big outdoor plants makes me badly want to get more indoor plants like I was promised (before one goddamn thing after another happened and I lost all time and energy to shop for plants), and finally taking the time to prune them a little while they’re both up on counters (ostensibly out of the cat’s reach) was actually very soothing.

I’m a very laissez-faire plant owner most of the time and just kinda let them do whatever, aside from manipulating the grapevine onto its tomato fence and making sure it’s not trying to climb the stucco, so I didn’t do a whole lot even now. just trimmed off the definitely dead stuff that wasn’t playing any structural role on the grapevine, the definitely dead stuff on the raspberries, and the trailing ends of the raspberry branches that had grown so long they had bent to grow along the ground. I also got some twine and tied the raspberries back to the stake and a longer dead branch, and disturbed a jumping spider who’d glued two of the leaves together, so it hopefully won’t get quite so viney again (especially without most of its growing tips - I would like you to produce more than just the sad blossoms that struggled their way through the move this year please).

I bet if I ask matt while he’s here he will either take me to a plant nursery or go to a nursery for me and take pictures/video so I can pick something out. (I know arin would too but she just doesn’t have the time. matt on the other hand only has us on his schedule for the whole half-week he’s in town.)

I dunno why I’m just generally feeling do-stuff today. it’s definitely not because I’m feeling physically well, although I do think the ac being replaced and giving up on finding a doctor this year have lifted some significant combined mental weight. I got a ton of work done gathering clips for that compilation I’ve been pecking away at for years, I’m already past the big hour long episode and I’ve only got like 20 episodes left. but at the same time I do also feel kind of like, weepy, like if I have to do a task I will cry, yknow? idk it’s weird. I’m trying to balance wanting to do things with not overdoing it.

[bnhablessings]

First Kiss Scenarios

This is completely self-indulgent as I am being a cry baby today. Now I just need a pick-me-up so I created this mess. Enjoy :’)

Dabi, Hawks, and Shigaraki X (Gender-Neutral/Non-Binary) Reader

I was going to do Twice but I didn’t like how his came out so : (

Warnings: Kisssssssssing, fluff, soft hours are activated guys. Smooches are exchanged. The reader is the same age as whoever they kiss, I’m too tired to be writing so probably grammar issues.

Words: 2,003

Dabi-

“It is nice seeing you again but are you going to disappear on me again for weeks?” You mumble stirring your beverage with your finger.

The man you are talking to says nothing as he watches you with a small frown. He’s noticed you’ve been on edge ever since you met him again for a third date. He surprised himself for even going on a third date with you but you somehow manage to take his breath away.

You’re not surprised that he doesn’t answer you. He’s been oddly quiet the majority of the date. Nothing like the first and second time where he was constantly flirting with dirty pick-up lines. Instead, he’s just been observing you. You don’t mind it since you can feel if he has bad intentions or not and he doesn’t.

You finally take your eyes off your beverage and look up to meet his. You feel even tenser from staring into them. The only reason why you are so uptight right now or trying to hide that is because you genuinely like him. He definitely knows.

Finally, something of his normal behavior happens. His lips form a devilish smirk and you look away from feeling your cheeks heat up. Despite his normal behavior returning, when he speaks it sounds more like he is sad and hopeful about something.

“I wouldn’t have to disappear on you for weeks if you said yes to my offer.”

That ruined the whole mood. You stand up feeling your eyes begin to mist. He is quick to stand up too, not knowing why you reacted that way and so suddenly.

“Is that the only reason why you have been asking me out? To say yes to joining your league? I fucking knew I was being too hopeful for you,” You mumble hurrying to gather your hoodie.

You ignore his nicknames for you as he begs you to wait for a moment. As soon as you are out of the diner’s door he is quick to latch onto your wrist. You give him the benefit of a doubt since your quirk is still telling you that he means no ill intent.

Dabi keeps his grip gentle as he finally speaks out some answers. “I have obviously been asking you out because I see you more than a potential member. I would like to see you more frequently and you joining would not only help that out but it would benefit my comrades. I already told you that part. Now, will you calm your ass down, Babe?”

You give him a nod and he smiles. You start to ramble. “Sorry. I know this is new territory for both of us. I just really like you and I hate the being vulnerable part… Which I am doing now I realize oh my god. Are you sure this isn’t some ploy because I can get rather annoyin-“

Dabi shuts you up with a pretty demanding kiss. His lips were not in the slightest gentle as he mushed them up with yours, his tongue darting past your own lips to explore with ambition. The warmth of his tongue leaves butterflies in your stomach. It was fast, hard, and straight-forward. He easily pulls back making that stupid smirk.

“I would apologize but I had no idea how else to shut you up about talking down to yourself.”

Despite his bad-boy attitude, you can see the tenderness in his eyes. You quickly decide on something that will change your life before you know it.

“Yes. I want to say yes to the offer.”

He offers his hand and you take it. “Great. Let’s get you home then babe. Meet the whole fucked up crew.”

Hawks (Takami Keigo)-

You don’t know how much your fragile heart can take it anymore. With his careless flirting and gentle touches, you allow him to give you. These past couple days have been so blissful for you since Hawks has been giving his undivided attention to you. It hurts only because you are just friends. You don’t want to ruin his reputation and it stings so much.

Another flirtatious joke leaves his lips and his eyes narrow down at your lack of reaction. He speaks up in a plea.

“Love of my life, would you please-“

You are quick to cut off your friend. “Hawks, you need to come up with a better nickname. What are you going to do when you finally meet someone you like and suddenly call me up like that?”

His stupid smile and golden eyes show the amusement he is feeling. He waits to make sure you don’t say anything else and when he is sure he smiles even wider. “That would suck. I don’t how to change your contact name on my phone.”

“No way. It is not that. For the love- We’re changing it right now,” You say. You put your hand out and wait for him to give you his phone. He does without a hitch. However, it’s locked.

You take a deep breath through your nose and release it out of your mouth to calm yourself down. You can hear the fool laugh at you. This is what you get for being his friend for a few years now. To be fair, he is great company, just not when you are stressed with life. Which whenever you are, he makes it his goal to make you happy and unstressed. It is only worse since you are stressed out because of him.

“What is the password?” You question your voice showing how irritated you are.

He only gives you his signature lazy smile and says, “Guess. You have three tries before you lock me out for a few minutes.”

You roll your eyes and huff at him. You, of course, try the easy thing first, his birthday. He only gives you an innocent look as the phone vibrates from being wrong. Next, you try something this dumb bird would totally do. 1234. It buzzes again. You sigh loudly at the fact you only have one try left.

“Please for the love- I will freaking buy you chicken wings or chicken nuggets if you tell me,” You say resorting to a bribe.

His eyes practically twinkle at the bribe. “It is your birthday.”

That makes you slightly confused. Why would he use your birthday? You type it in and it unlocks. However, what you see next makes you almost cry. It’s a picture of you and him as his home screen. However, he has a messaged edited on it.

Will you be my significant other?

You laugh before you ask, “Hawks were you just going to wait for a moment I asked for your phone to show me this?”

You look at him and he’s already looking away. A small blush can be spotted on his cheeks as he chooses to answer in a silly way. “I mean… I already waited for four days. Turns out the fifth day is the lucky day.”

Feeling the slightly insecure feeling you always get when hanging out with him, you decide to ask the question that will tell you your answer. “You don’t care if others find out I’m your significant other? A nobody? That could ruin your rep-“

“Shut up,” Hawks says trying to keep his cool. He takes a breather before continuing. “You know me, Babe. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like you and I want you in my life permanently… So what do you say?”

You don’t say anything. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a sweet peck. You pull back slightly to see his eyes are wide and his smile is completely gone from the sweet smile you gave him. When he recovers he pecks your lips once more before the smile returns.

“Fulfill your promise. Let’s go on a date and get chicken.”

Shigaraki Tomura-

“Is there something on my face?” You ask without looking at your boss.

His stare remains on you as you place his handheld console. He’s been oddly quiet since you asked to play it but it isn’t that unusual. What is unusual is how he hasn’t moved to look over your shoulder for the game. Instead, he remains seated in front of you and has been watching your face intently.

It would normally creep you out but you actually enjoy the attention he’s giving you. It’s been a while since he last hinted that he wants to pursue your route as if you were in an otome game. Kurogiri watches with interest as well since it is odd for Shigaraki to be like this.

You take a few minutes to keep playing before you lose your last life and shut down the console. Shigaraki stares at you with slight irritation now as you hand it back to him. “Mhm… Boss do you know that staring is considered rude? Now that I mind it but you haven’t said a word in the past twenty minutes,” You murmur.

He finally speaks and what he says startles you for a second. “I want to kiss you. Kurogiri leave.”

Wait what? Before you can look at your escape route he leaves in a split second. You’ll yell at him later. For now, you got to deal with your awkward boss.

“This is going to be weird and I totally don’t blame you if you decide to kill me, but Shigaraki I don’t think that is a good idea,” You state your heart acting like it is going to break out of your chest.

His eyes narrow down and immediately his hand goes to scratch his neck. “And why not?”

You sigh and grab his hand being slow and gentle as to not further anger him. “Because I really like you. It isn’t exactly fair to me if you want to experiment and not put my feelings into consideration.”

Your explanation makes him narrow his eyes down further at you. “I don’t see the problem then dumbass. I do like you,” He states.

You stare at him with wide eyes and feel your heartbeat accelerate. He glares at you when you don’t say anything right when you see him about to snap you quicky speak.

“Well then, by all means, kiss me then.”

Shigaraki looks a bit awkward as he tries to figure out how to actually do this in real life (compared to his games). He decides to just go for it. The hand you aren’t holding comes up and he uses his index finger and thumb to grab onto your cheeks and tilt your head to the angle he desires.

He closes his eyes and presses his chapped lips awkwardly to yours in an awkward peck that lingers. He hesitates before trying to move his lips against yours. You hold back on giggling as you let him just experiment. A few seconds later you let go of his hand to cup his cheek. You finally move your lips against his and keep it in a light feathery-like touch.

With your mouths moving together, Shigaraki gains some confidence and prods the tip of his tongue towards your lips. You pull back immediately feeling your cheeks become increasingly hot from the small exchange.

“Patience Shigaraki. We don’t want to rush this. Think of it as a game. Practice makes perfect so we have time to do this later,” You say giving him a smile.

He grumbles but nods his head. “Call me Tomura or Boss from now on.”

“That was romantic until the last part Boss.”

You are confused since that didn’t come from you. Both of you immediately turn to face the door and see that Toga, Dabi, Twice, and Spinner are there staring at you all with different mixed expressions about what they had just witnessed.

“Moments ruined out here. Let’s go practice in my room,” Shigaraki orders while taking your hand in his and leading you away from the now laughing group.