#from next month on i can start going at leas once a month again. likely more

[abbyslev]

JUNE BABY PLS I BEG YOU PLS WRITE SOME YELENA SMUT PLS I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE IM TOO FAR GONE I NEED THIS WOMEN TO SLAM ME AGAINST A WALL AND MAKE OUT WITH ME AND LOVE ME AND PUNCH ME AND MAKE ME HER WIFE AND SPIT IN MY FACE AND NEVER LET ME GO PLS I BEG YOU PLS IM SO DESPERATE PLS

𝑭𝑶𝑪𝑼𝑺- 𝒀𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑨 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

A/N: the craziest part is that no one gets my love for yelena like lea does. @lejayooo GETS IT. SO GOOD. i wrote this for her bc i love her and ofc i need to feed into our delusions TOGETHER??? THIS WAS INSPIRED BY LANA TOO LIKE THE WAY I WOULD LET YELENA FOLD ME IN HALF AND DESTROY ME??? I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY OK IM GONNA GO FANGIRL W LEA NOW OK GUYS

WARNINGS: pure smut bro

Your name left her mouth once again, an annoyed sigh from your mouth leaving as you looked up. 

       “I need you to focus.” Professor Yelena gave you a stern smile before pointing to the board. “Answer.” She added. Your cheeks turned red, your ears hot. You had been thinking about Professor Yelena's long fingers touching you in such soft ways, mouth meeting yours as your hands tangled themselves in her soft hair. You practically dropped at the thought. 

       “I- uhm…i’m not sure.” You cleared your throat as you could feel the stares of your peers. “Like yesterday? And the day before that?” Yelena shook her head, sucking her teeth. You look down, picking at your fingers. “Stay after class.” She let out a soft chuckle before turning back to her lesson. 

        This must have been the longest lesson in the world. You couldn’t stop thinking about how badly she was going to scold you, how she was going to shame you for your skills. You bite your tongue, the people around you moving as Yelena yelled out what pages to read tonight. You stuff your bag with your belongings before slowly dragging yourself to her desk, a shy smile on your face. 

         Yelena waved off her last student before turning to you. She walked past you, opening the door to her office. She extended an arm out, letting you go in first. You stood there shyly as she removed her coat, rolling up her sleeves.

       My god, her long, pale veiny arms made you practically drool again. You tore your eyes away from her arms, looking at her exposed collarbones, wishing nothing more than to kiss them. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Yelena chuckled, tapping her head. 

       “Erm, nothing. Just a hard time focusing.” You lied. “I think not. You seem to have a perfect score in every single class, so why is mine the issue? You passed Zoë’s class easily enough last year.” Yelena sat down, typing on her computer. “I don’t like this book. I only like books that i’m interested in.” You lied. “You told Zoë you loved anything by this author, which is why I chose it. Is that an issue?” Yelenas brows furrowed. 

        You stayed quiet, eyes wide. Why would she ever pick anything you liked? She didn’t even know you last year. “This is your major, I expect more from you. You did pretty well up until a while ago.” Yelena rested one hand on her chin, her cold eyes trailing down your body. 

        Yeah, that was a couple of months before you started realizing how hot she was, before you started thinking unimaginable things about her.

        “Zoë says you’re perfect, I was really expecting that kind of participation in my class.” Yelena smiled. “I just have a lot going on right now.” You say quickly. “Want to talk about it? It stays between us.” Yelena gave you another warm smile. “I’m ok. Thank you.” What else were you supposed to say? How you want her to fuck you so bad? 

        “Well, come here, i want to show you some alternative assignments, maybe we can get that C to a B.” Yelena waved you over. Oh my god, were you really about to be right next to your hot professor? 

         You sit next to her, body stiff. She smelled like cologne. You inhaled deeply, trying not to be obvious. You were so close to touching her.  Yelena spread her legs, her knee touching yours. Neither of you moved. “You could write me a six hundred word essay on this book. Unless you’d rather just read it with us.” Yelena looked over at you. 

        She noticed your stiff  body, your hands slightly shaking as you avoided eye contact with her. “I can just read.” You blurted out. “What, sweetheart?” Yelenas brows furrowed again. SWEETHEART? Your heart pounded, eyes shooting to the floor. Her hand lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “Answer.” She whispered, leaning in. 

        You squeeze your legs,  lips parting a bit as Yelena leaned in, thumb playing with your lower lip. “I can read.” You whispered back. “Good.” Yelena kissed you, hand softly caressing your jaw. You embarrassingly whimpered, holding her wrist. Yelena brought you into her lap, hands massaging your thighs. 

       She kissed your neck, nose tickling your neck. “Is this what you think about?” Yelena played with your waistband, holding a fistful of your hair, making you look at her. “Tell me what you think about, baby.” Yelena brought your lips down to hers. “I think about your fingers inside of me. I think abou- fuck.” You throw your head back as Yelena squeezed your breasts.  

        Yelena helped you pull off your pants, pushing you on her desk. “I always think about you. How you’re mine. Not Zoë’s dirty little pet, you’re mine.” Yelena shoved her fingers in your mouth. You drooled all over them, face pouting as your legs shook. Yelena tapped your clit softly before starting to do slow circles. 

       Your nails gripped the edge of the desk, eyebrows furrowing as Yelena slowly sank a finger in you. You close your legs, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Yelena's free hand tugged on your shirt. You threw it off, hands locking around Yelena’s neck. Yelena kissed you, fingers pumping in and out of you and her thumb continued to circle your clit. 

      “You get all embarrassed when I call on you, do you like that? Do you like that I think about punishing you when you’re wrong?” Yelena mumbled in your ear, fingers quickening with every word. “Yes, fuck, yes!” You scream, your head laid in between her shoulder and neck, teeth sinking into Yelena’s shoulder, quiet pleads leaving your mouth. 

     You rock your hips upwards, hoping for more. Yelena pressed your body down with her cold hand, shaking her head. “Please,” You look at her. Yelena ran the same hand down your face, softly caressing your bottom lip. She kissed you softly, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth. 

       You grasped Yelena's upper arm, feeling the soft curve of her muscles. She could feel you about to cum. “Beg for it.” She slowed her pace, pressing her forehead against yours. “P-please, professor.” You try to keep your shaking legs open. “Please what?” Yelena kissed the corner of your mouth, tongue tracing your lips. “Please let me-shit!” Your fingers dig into her back. Your nails scratch her soft skin, decorating her pale skin with your red love marks.

        “I wanna hear you, pretty.” Yelena watched as you moaned out loud, lips quivering as you called out her name. “How bad do you want it?” Yelena hummed. “S-so bad! Bad!” You shut your eyes. Yelena slapped your face, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you forward.

        “Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Yelena mumbled. That sets you off. Your legs gave in, chest collapsing as loud, breathy moans left your lips and hands tangling themselves in her hair, forehead against Yelena’s, your cum all over her desk. 

       She helped you come down, pushing your hair out of your face. “You’re a mess.” She chuckled as she handed you your bottoms. “Thanks to you.” You sit there for a moment. “Do you really think of me that way?” Yelena traced soft circles on your inner thigh. You blushed, pushing her hand off. 

      “Oh, don’t be embarrassed now.” She caressed your cheek, leaning down to your level. She pressed a soft kiss on your lips. You pull away, standing up. “What?” Yelena smiled. You kiss her one more time before opening her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow after class.” You smile, shutting the door behind you. 

[bluewasthecolor]

What Can I Do (So You Feel It Too)?

Word Count: 2318

Warnings: None

A/N: Well, this accidentally got a little long. If people want a part two, that could definitely happen! Let me know if you like this one! Also, I don't only write for Leah so feel free to send requests for other woso players.

You don't even get it, no, you don't understand

I want you, but I know I'm only one of your friends

“Come on, Y/N! We’re gonna be late to dinner and Viv’s gonna kill us!” Leah shouts from the other room. You poke your head out of your bedroom, smirking.

“Chill out, dude. We’ll be twenty minutes late tops. It’d be weird if we were exactly on time, anyway.” 

“Chill out, dude” The Brit teases, making fun of your American-ness as she always does. 

Fifteen minutes later you’re ready to go–thirty minutes after you were supposed to be at Viv and Beth’s. Leah hems and haws the whole drive over about how if Viv got mad at the both of you she would make clear that it was absolutely your fault and if you had just worn the first shirt this all could have been avoided. You don’t hear most of it, if you’re being honest. Most of your attention is focused on your phone and the person texting you. When she pulls into Viv and Beth’s driveway, Leah glances over at you, realizing that your attention has been taken from her. “I thought I was the only one who could make you smile like that. What’s going on over there Y/L/N?” 

“I’ve been talking to someone,” you answer, “He’s really sweet, I think you’d like him. We’re going on a date next week.”

Leah’s smile fades, just a little, when you say that. You don’t notice, of course, you never have. You don’t notice any of the little signs–the way she looks at you (like you hung the moon), the way she says your name (like your name is a prayer), or the way she smiles when you enter a room (like all the light was gone until you walked in). It’s been like this for years, ever since that one night (that one dress). Leah’s used to it by now, she knows you only see her as a friend, but it still hurts. When you talk about the people you’re dating she can’t help but wish it was her. 

6 Months Later

You know you're too good for him but if it were me

I'd give you everything

Everything is crashing down around you. Or that’s how it feels anyway. You leave your (his?) apartment, trying to process what’s just happened. Somehow you end up at Leah’s, standing in front of the door trying to decide whether or not you should knock. What if she has company? What if she isn’t home? You decide you’re being silly–she’s your best friend. She’ll understand, and if not you can just leave. 

When Leah opens the door she can immediately tell something is wrong. Your cheeks are stained with tears, your nose is running, your hair is unbrushed, and you are inexplicably wearing two different shoes. She, on the other hand, is all dressed up. Suddenly you feel like an idiot.

“Y/N? What’s going on? ” She looks at you with concern, waiting for you to explain.

“I-he-we, we had a fight. A bad one. I didn’t know where to go. I forgot you had that event tonight. I’m so sorry, I should just lea-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, Leah interrupts you by pulling you into her arms, enveloping you in a hug. 

The tears start again as soon as she wraps her arms around you. She holds you until you’ve stopped shaking, and once you’re done she leans back, placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Never, ever, apologize for coming to me when you’re upset. I’m your best friend. That's what I’m here for. Now come in, please.” 

“Thank you, Leah. Really.” You sniffle, following her to the couch. You sit and she crouches in front of you.

“Don’t thank me. I already told you, that’s why I’m here. Let me just change out of these clothes, I’ll be right back.” She leaves you sitting on the couch. 

You take the moment alone to check your phone. He’s texted you three times (You can’t just leave when we’re in the middle of a fight. This is so immature Y/N, I can’t believe you. Please just come back.) and left you one voicemail (“This isn’t how adults react when shit happens Y/N. I don’t know where you are, but if you don’t come back by tomorrow night I’ll change the locks. You can’t do this.”). Just as you finish listening to the voicemail, Leah returns. She sits on the couch facing you, taking your hands in hers.

“Tell me everything.”

You breathe deeply, willing yourself not to cry again.

“We were cooking dinner. I made some comment about winning the Champions League this season and he laughed. Like, out loud, laughed at me. He said he’d be impressed if we made it past Bayern.” You glance up. Leah is looking at you intently, her expression shifting from concern to anger as you continue to speak. “That just set something off in me I guess, I don’t know. We got into a screaming match and I just had to get out of there. It’s like-he just doesn’t believe in me. He doesn’t support me. He left me a voicemail saying he’s gonna change the locks to our place if I’m not back by tomorrow night. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do Leah, please.” 

You finish your story and Leah doesn’t speak. Instead, she gets up, pacing to the kitchen sink and getting two glasses of water. When she returns, she passes you a glass of water and finally breaks her silence.

“Look, Y/N. I think you know he’s not good enough for you. I don’t think I need to tell you that, so I won’t.” She pulls you into her side, your head coming to rest on her shoulder. “I can’t tell you what to do, you have to make your own decision. I will say that you deserve somebody who makes you feel your absolute best–not someone who laughs at your dreams. You should be with someone who is kind and loving. You’re my best friend and seeing you hurt like this is so hard. I’ll be here for you no matter what, just think about it.” 

You turn your head to look up at her, tears sliding down your cheeks once again. She places her hand on your cheek, wiping each tear away gently. Neither of you say anything for the next five minutes or so, Leah’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, protecting you. You’re not sure what you would do without her. Every time someone breaks your heart, she’s there to pick up the pieces. When you had that injury last year she stayed at your apartment to take care of you. She’s your favorite person in the entire world. Leah shifts next to you, breaking you out of your daze. She is starting to doze off, and you suddenly realize how late it is. 

“I’ll go, I’m sorry to keep you up so late.” You stand to leave, but are stopped by Leah’s hand encircling your wrist.

“You don’t have to go. Not back to him. Not if you don’t want to. Stay here tonight, deal with him in the morning. You can stay in my room with me.”

You smile softly, pulling her off the couch. She leads the way to her room, passing you one of her old t-shirts to sleep in. You pull it on, breathing in the way it smells, like laundry detergent and Leah. You clamber into bed next to her, lying on your side so you’re facing one another. Leah searches your face for any sign of how you’re feeling. The two of you have done this (sleeping in the same bed) countless times. Drunk nights out, drunk nights in, when one of you just didn’t want to be alone. This time felt different, somehow. She couldn’t place it, but this was different.

“So I guess I’m breaking up with my boyfriend tomorrow.” You murmur. 

(About) Two Weeks Later

'Cause I swear that you feel it, but then I second guess

I don't know if you see us how I do in my head

You’ve basically moved into Leah’s apartment. After the break up, you realized you had nowhere to go, so now every night is a sleepover. You’ve fallen into something of a domestic routine. You cook and Leah washes the dishes. Leah drives to training and you pick the music. You fall asleep next to each other but always wake up spooning (the big spoon changes, although Leah won’t admit it). Nothing has changed but so has everything. You’re still best friends but Leah swears to herself that there’s something more there. The way you watch her when you think she’s not looking (like you’re afraid you’ll forget the way she moves), the way you listen to her (like her word is the gospel), or the way you hold her (like you never want to let go). Maybe none of this is new. Maybe it’s been there all along. But then you do things like call her your best friend and tell her she needs to go on a date, that it’s been “too long” and she wonders if she’s wrong. It terrifies her that she might be wrong, but even more that she might be right.

'Cause I just wanna say it but I'm scared if I do

You weren't looking at me the way I look at you

“Leah, be a doll and grab my dress for the wedding? It should be hanging in the closet.” You shout from the bathroom, as Leah lounges on the bed waiting for you to finish getting ready. 

She carries your dress into the bathroom, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. It’s not that she’s never seen you in just your underwear before–you’re teammates for goodness’ sake–but this feels different somehow. You turn around, a smile playing at your lips. 

“What are you looking at me like that for? Come on, we've gotta get going. Zip me up?” You wriggle into your dress, sweeping your hair to the side. 

- 

After the wedding, Leah can’t help but think you look more beautiful now then she’s ever seen you (except maybe that one night with that one dress). You chat with the other guests, smiling effortlessly and making everyone around you laugh. She catches your eye and you excuse yourself, making your way back to your table. 

“Having fun yet, Williamson?” You ask, dropping into the seat next to her. She smirks, but doesn’t respond, drinking in the moment. 

“I still think you need to go on a date. There’s so many single women here it’s basically a dating convention. Let me pick someone out for yo–her!” You point to a woman standing at the bar, “She’s pretty. Go buy her a drink.”

“It’s an open bar, you idiot. And I’m not ready yet. I told you.” She snaps, her smile gone.

You hold up your hands in apology, deciding to let it go (for now). The two of you sit in silence, watching the antics of all the other guests. You can’t understand why she doesn’t want to date. She’s been single for almost a year and it’s not like she hasn’t had opportunities. You know for a fact that she gets asked out almost everywhere she goes. You make a mental note to talk to her about it later–maybe she just needs a pep talk. 

As the night goes on you drink more and talk less, dancing with your friends and trying to get Leah to join you. As the designated driver of the evening, she stopped drinking after the champagne toast, and dancing with drunk people isn’t quite as fun when she’s sober (plus she’s not sure she can trust herself not to grab your waist and move behind you). You eventually give up, pulling one of Ruesha’s cousins in to dance with you. This is enough for Leah, seeing her move behind you the way she wishes she could. Leah stands and stalks over to you, stopping just short of the dance floor.

“Time to go Y/N.” She says, her eyes cold. 

You pout but follow her to the car. The ride home is also silent–you are fighting to keep your eyes open and Leah isn’t in the mood to talk. 

Once home, Leah heads inside without a word to you. Mostly sobered up from the drive, you follow her inside confused. She flops onto the bed, her hands over her eyes. You sit gingerly next to her, placing a hand on her arm.

“What’s up Leah? You’ve been acting weird all night. Did I do something?” “No. Yes. I don’t know…” She groans, uncovering her face and sitting up. “It’s just…why do you want me to start dating so badly?”

“I-I just want you to be happy, Leah. I don’t want you to feel like I’m getting in the way of your life. I know I’ve been staying here for a long time.”

“Really? That’s it?” She arches an eyebrow at you, challenging you to say something else. You don’t, just look at your hands.

“Look, Y/N,” She sighs, “I don’t need you to set me up. I can handle my own dating life. Please understand that.” “But I don’t understand Leah, that’s the problem. We’ve always set each other up. Is it because of your last relationship? Are you scared of getting hurt again? Because if that’s it–” “No, that’s not it.” Leah cuts you off. “ It’s different now. Do you really not know? Have I read this so wrong that you don’t see what’s happening?” 

You just look at her confused. She sighs, mustering up the courage. “I love you Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

[mischivana]

Letting You Go Was the Hardest Thing I had to Do.

Will Solace x Sibling!reading

Requested by anonymous.

Masterlist

I looked out the window again, it was English and again I wasn't paying attention. My mind was elsewhere, on something, someone, more important. I watched as the pairs of late siblings ran to the school from the parking lot or ran out of minivans being scolded by their mothers.

I thought about my brother again. My half-brother. How much I missed him and how mad I was that he chose not to be here. I knew it wasn’t his fault though, it was his dad’s. Yep we have different fathers. But it’s more complicated than that.

My name is y/n Solace, my half-brother is Will Solace. The thing that sets us apart though, he’s a demi-god. His father is Apollo, yep the sun dude. I'm not a demi-god, pure mortal blood right here. It never got in the way of our brother-sister relationship though, not until now at least.

During the summer Will goes to this camp, Camp Half-Blood I think he called it. It's basically a safe haven for demi-gods, a place where they can train and be safe from monsters. Yep monsters, they’re real. One almost killed me and my brother one time. I think he called it an Empousai?

Usually he only goes during the summer, hence the name SUMMER camp. Which was nice, he would go to camp and then spend the school year with me. Sure I couldn’t be with my best friend for 3 months but I’d wrather he’d be alive. But this year he decided to stay at camp, which means I won’t see him for another year. Mom says it’s because he's the head of the Apollo cabin and their best healer. Makes sense, still hurts.

I was too busy thinking about my brother to notice my name being called. “y/n? y/n? Y/N!” my teacher yelled. I quickly turned to the board and saw a couple people snicker. I ignored them and said “Yes miss?” I didn’t know what she wanted but I knew it wasn’t good. “Since you seem to be so distracted, you must know the topic already? Care to answer the question on the board?” I looked at the board and answered quickly. “The subject is referring to a place so the correct form would be ‘there’ not ‘their’” I said. She looked at me for a second, pleased with my answer, before turning and continuing her lecture.

I looked back towards the window when I heard a ridiculous scream followed by the sound of running footsteps and hooves on the epoxy floor. A scream that I had unfortunately recognized. For some reason my half-brother, William Andrew Solace, was at my school with a satyr screaming at the top of his lungs. Without thinking I ran out of the class room and saw Will, a satyr, and a younger girl who I’d assumed was a recently discovered half-blood, running down the hall. I looked back and saw three snake women climbing the stairs and started running with them. Before I knew it I was right next to them.

“HEY WILL!” I yelled at him. “HEY Y/N! WAIT Y/N? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he said as we all turned a corner. “I GO TO SCHOOL HERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE CAMP?” I yelled, biting back my anger. “IN HERE” the satyr yelled. We rushed into the supply room and barricaded the door quickly.

Once the door was barricaded I turned to face my brother, who was on the ground from exhaustion. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T COME BACK THIS YEAR! YOU CHOSE TO STAY AT CAMP?” I yelled at him, all the anger in my body finally releasing. “Calm down, I swear I can explain-” he started to say but I cut him off. “EXPLAIN? EXPLAIN WHAT? THAT YOU LIED? YOU TOLD ME YOU COULDN’T COME BACK HOME BUT HERE YOU ARE! AT HOME!” I yelled at him, tears starting to form in my eyes. “Y/n LISTEN!” he yelled.

I shut up quickly and stared at him. “I did have to stay at camp, you're right,” he paused, “being head counselor of the Apollo cabin and head of the infirmary required it, at least for the first year” he looked at me with a sympathetic look, like he didn’t even like what he was saying. But why didn’t he at least tell me he was coming here?

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though!” I told him. “I'm here for her” he said and pointed at the young girl, “she’s a demi-god and a rather powerful one, maybe a big three kid. They needed to send a cabin head to get her” he explained. “Why didn’t they send Nico? He’s a cabin head and a big three kid right?” I questioned. He sighed and said “Nico is in New Rome right now representing Hades-” “Pluto” I corrected “-Pluto, whatever it is and I was the only cabin head at the ready” He said, it made sense but still.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” “If I had more notice I would have, trust me, but I was told about her 10 hours ago!” he said. I looked at him for another second before attacking him with a hug, he hugged back and got warmer. He was glowing, he did that when he got happy, I thought it was funny, I knew his boyfriend Nico thought so too.

After we let go we were able to explain to the demigod, who I learned was named Hannah, what was going on and who she really was. It took her a while to believe it, but Will told me it always does. The satyr, who was named Oakly, told us we needed to leave as soon as possible. The only problem was that the monsters were still out. Slowly and quietly we unbarricaded the door and Will crept out, quiver on shoulder and bow in hand. We closed the door again, I was scared for my brother but before I knew it he’d opened the door covered in golden dust.

We made it safely out of the school and back to the “Delphi Strawberry Service” van they’d taken here. I saw Argus, the hundred handed guy in the driver seat. My brother may be a demigod and it may have gotten me face to face with all sorts of monsters but I would never get used to that guy.

I gave Will one more hug, and almost crying I said “So I guess you’re leaving again? Probably pretty easy for a demigod”. He let go of the hug, his hands still on my shoulders, and said “staying at camp? not being able to see my sister? Leaving you for camp was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and It’s harder the second time” now we were both about to cry. “Make sure to tell who claimed her, be safe glow stick” “you too homegirl” I gave him one more hug and cried into his shirt before letting him go. I watched the van drive away, wiped my tears and headed back into the school for lunch.

*a few days later*

I woke up, it was saturday which meant no school. I ran outside and checked the mail for any word from Will. I saw a yellow envelope with a wax seal with the image of the sun on it. I grabbed it, ran upstairs, and ripped it open. It said next to nothing.

“Hades

Glowstick :)”

I smiled again. My brother had made it to camp safely and Nico had a sister.

[a-wholelotta-love]

Totnt 1938! Episode 3 thoughts!

*Spoiler Alert*

Okay, so this is going to be a routine thing! Coz i need to talk about the episodes in order to not go crazy. But man! What was today's episode. So much to unpack. But let's start again with some major moments that i need to discuss or some that i need to gush about-

Lee Yeon talking to Shin ju about Rang. I am equally annoyed and happy about this scene. I don't know how to explain my thoughts. Like the fact that Shin ju reminded Yeon that hey, you have your Rang here. I was like, bro, no one should be reminding you of this. You should be grateful every second that you get to see him again. Not everyone gets that chance. Also, Rang hearing how Yeon is only there for a month. My boi is so confused right now and it just hurts me for some reason.

Okay, I am really conflicted about Ryu Hong joo's character. While I find her truly bad ass in the drinking bet scene, I am a little irked by how difficult it is for her to deal with a rejection. She was almost ready to assault Yeon at his weakest and even got that guy to fight off against demons just because she can not take a no. Like Ah, why. You are such a bad ass strong woman. Can i please have you behave a little rationally.

Now, favourite moment, Yeon and Rang's interactions this season are just completely melting me, killing me, hurting me and then fixing me. I love how worried Yeon seems to be about Rang every moment. But Rang's confusion about it and his act to look unfazed and unaffected hurts my heart. Boy has been looking for this love and affection all his life. But it's so hard for him to trust. When Yeon said, "You needed family. It doesn't matter whether I am fake or real". He hit the spot right on. And how he tried acting tough when Yeon could not see but you could see the worry in his eyes and he just gave up after a point, feeding his brother, guiding him in the right direction and teasing him. The way he looked back in yeon's direction when going to perform that exorcism. I am telling you it's breaking my heart. I don't think I will survive the ending of this show if Rang gets left behind.

The little girl Lea's story was actually so painful and my angry self from season 1 just went, "Look Yeon, all the pain you caused by abandoning the mountain." I know, I know he did it for his love but the amount of pain it caused to, not just Rang, but so many creatures. They burnt the mountain down while your brother was there. All forms of life died and people who relied on you suffered. I don't know but her story made me think of little Rang crying for Yeon with blackie in his arms. Such a sore topic for me.

Next, isn't the Mermaid a representation of me ( All rang simps) .Ah, "It was love at first sight." Well, tbh, with Rang, I was interested in first sight but I fell in love slowly and steadily and then all at once. But yess, I am happy to have one person in Rang's corner who loves him unconditionally. I hope they let him be happy though I am really apprehensive of it.

The Rang and Shin ju conversation. Gosh, after all these years as strangers, you both come pretending to be nice. My boi 🥺 that's because they really know how kind you are. Kind enough to die for them. 🥺 Even in the well, even when he is confused why Shin ju is being nice to him, he still tries to keep him alive so that both of them don't end up dying. He pushes him up while he knows he will most probably die if yeon does not come soon. 🥺 This Rang who does not even know this Shin ju, will still try to protect him if he can.

Also, the writers trying to kill my baby boi Rangie every alternate episode, is this going to be a routine thing too ?? I need to know so that i can prepare myself.

[boydepartment]

Pizza Parlor- Lee Felix: Chapter Nine!

Description: Y/n is a stressed-out college student who has no idea what she is doing with her life. She is always wrapped up in nostalgia and her friends seem to know exactly what they're doing. Feeling insecure one night she decides to go on an old website. Club Penguin. Little does she know; she would encounter a certain penguin who was also having a rough night.

Stray Kids are idols, TXT is not.

Partial smau, mainly written.

Warnings for chapter 9: cursing????????

WC- 3k????

back next

masterlist

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Song for Chapter 9: Valentine - Laufey

Chapter 9: Click

Getting Lea to actually let you go to this meeting with Felix was really difficult. Kai on the other hand, has loosened up a lot. You walked over to the cucumbers and started to pick from the batch.

                “He isn’t going to kill me; I’ve known him for months now.” You said mindlessly. Lea looked at you funny.

                “Okay let me see a photo of him.” You rolled your eyes and tossed her your phone; your lock screen was a screenshot from a FaceTime call you had. Felix got the bright idea to try and actually cook something instead of baking. The photo was your favorite because if you missed him all you had to do was tap and hold your lock screen. You could then see him lose his mind over how the meat he cut looked.

                “Y/n you are being catfished.” Lea was serious. You turned to her, looking confused. Now tossing the now bagged cucumbers and walking to the oranges.

                “No, I’m not, that is a screenshot from a FaceTime call, I have seen his face more times than I can count.” You said, “and heard his voice.”

                “Y/n…” Lea looked at you with a sad look. Part of you was trying hard not to get offended. You tied up the bag of oranges and led the cart to another aisle.

                “Click down on my home screen. It is literally a live photo.” You were 1000% sure you were not getting catfished, he would send you his face at almost every angle and you’ve seen it at every angle in real time on FaceTime.

Lea looked at you like you had just murdered someone in the middle of this grocery store. You turned to her stopping the cart on the side of the aisle.

                “What?” You looked back at her while she handed you your phone.

                “Open your phone right now I want more proof of this guy.”

You furrowed your brows and unlocked it, handing it back, “listen, I know he looks like a model but he’s real you can look through our texts and sent photos if you want to.” You didn’t really want your privacy to be invaded however it was hard to not get defensive over this. Felix was someone who you really liked and the fact that your friend was now saying this put you off a bit.

As you continued to grocery shop while Lea snooped, Kai ended up meeting back with you guys with stuff he wanted. It mainly consisted of little candies he wanted to try.

                “I heard THIS ONE is so good, I have been researching and I saw that guy try it on TikTok!” Kai held up the candy, you had no idea what the wrapper said but if Kai wanted to try it then Kai gets to try it.

                “Which guy on TikTok?” You asked, you’re sure Kai had to of sent you the video once.

                “That one guy, I don’t remember his name, I am too busy on trying to get Soobin’s dog viral.” Kai sighed.

                “The old one?” You asked, Soobin only had one really old dog who still jumps around like he was 2 months old again.

                “How dare you say he is old!” He acted like he was offended.

                “Is he not like thir-“

                “Y/n L/n.” Lea interrupted your conversation, nails digging into your arm, you could’ve screeched if you weren’t in public.

Kai looked at her and secretly put more stuff into the cart.

                “Lea OW!” You whisper yelled at her, “what is it?!”

She held your phone up, it was a photo of Felix, one you haven’t seen before.

                “What am I supposed to be looking at?” You asked.

                “Y/N!” Lea said loudly, this made you jump back a bit, well as far as her death grip would let you.

Kai grabbed the cart, “um… I’m just gonna take this and finish the shopping…” He quickly swerved away leaving you and Lea in the aisle.

                “I don’t know what I’m looking at.” You said, you really didn’t. It was just a random selfie of him on Pinterest, so what? Random people get Pinterest clout all the time. Also, for someone who is super into TikTok like Felix, it wouldn’t be surprising if Felix had Pinterest clout or even TikTok clout.

                “You WORK in a K-pop store how can you not recognize him?!” Lea said and handed you your phone back.

                “I have no clue what you are trying to connect here Lea. Felix is just some rand- “

                “HIS NAME IS FELI-“ you quickly covered her mouth. You guys were in public and the last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene.

                “Yes, we met on Club Penguin, I thought I told you the story while we were at work.” At this point you were a little annoyed. Lea’s eyes widened and pulled your hand off her mouth.

                “Y/n this is an idol. This is the GUY from Stray Kids!”

You actually laughed at this, “Lea he hates Stray Kids. Come on we need to find Kai, if he gets lost then I have no clue how we would find him.”

When you guys found Kai and finally checked out, you couldn’t help but try to make connections in your head. It would make sense, a lot of sense. The only way you could be sure though is if you looked up Stray Kids, and you were not about to break your pinky promise with Felix. On the walk home you three talked about the upcoming plans. For the most part you were going to be left alone for the next couple days. Apparently, they want to film the Huening Family gathering or something. You weren’t going to complain, I mean you got a trip to another country out of this. On top of that, you get to meet someone who has made your life astronomically better by just being around you.

After the groceries were tucked away Lea dragged you to your shared room.

                “Lea I am not going to listen to your conspiracy theories.” You huffed a laugh out and turned to the closet, which was now unpacked, you had to get dressed and ready to see him. You were somewhat annoyed with her trying to push this, but you didn’t show it.

                “Y/N I AM NOT CRAZY!” Lea flopped down on her bed; you started getting changed. But you didn’t like the outfit, or the next, and so forth.

                “You sound crazy.” You let out a soft chuckle and turned to the mirror near the door. You really wished you packed better clothes; you would just have to settle on a sweater and long skirt, your boots would pair well with this combination of clothes.

                “YOU SOUND CRAZY!” Lea retaliated, “with how you two talk and what you talk about it is not surprising if he WAS FELIX FROM STRAY KIDS!”

This made you stop messing with your hair in attempts to fix it, “Lea. I don’t want to think about this, there is no way an idol would be on Club Penguin and there is no way an idol would waste his time on me. Now if you excuse me.” You turned to the door grabbing your big coat and walking out. Kai was sat at the kitchen on FaceTime with Yeonjun. You popped in the FaceTime and then quickly headed out, grabbing your backpack, and putting on a mask.

You typed the address into your phone and started to get the directions, you prayed that you wouldn’t get lost. The last thing you would want to do is be late to this. You texted Felix telling him you were on your way and described your outfit. This was big for you, really big and you did not want to mess this up. Never in your life were you this nervous to see someone. What if he smelled bad? What if he actually was trying to kidnap you? Maybe you should have been nicer to Lea… Because if you die that wasn’t really a nice way to end off things. Okay Y/n calm down you weren’t going to DIE! That is crazy talk. You took a deep breath as you walked near the river, it was beautiful. The walk and the river helped calm you down, at the end of the day if this meeting went horribly then you would just leave or go somewhere where you could lose him. The café was in your sights and your chest tightened. This was it. You wait for when it was safe to walk the cross walk, your stomach was doing flips. Tying your jacket around you, you finally walked to the café.

Calm down Y/n it will be fine. You stood by the café under a tree, it was cold today, but the sun was still out and you were wearing a big jacket. That would be gross if you started sweating everywhere before you met him. I mean what if you smelled weird!? You didn’t even think about that! You kept freaking out if he was a creep, but what if YOU looked creepy. Oh god… You quickly opened your phone to try and kill time. Lea was telling you to watch out for paparazzi, you rolled your eyes, texting something snarky but funny back. That was a good last impression in case you did die.

                “Y/n!” Your whole body ran cold when you looked at him, mainly because he scared the fuck out of you.

                “WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CODE WORD?!” You laughed as he practically yanked you into a hug, you were surprised he could hug you with how much stuff was in his hands.

                “Pizza Parlor!” Felix laughed as he swung you around a little. You held onto him pretty tightly and smiled into his shoulder. He pulled away and looked at you. You were a little sad at the loss of contact, Felix did not smell bad at all. In fact, in a way he smelled expensive.

                “You really are so pretty.” He was smiling behind his mask you could tell by his eyes, the way they practically sparkled at the sight of you. Before you could answer he spoke again, “oh! I got you flowers, and I baked brownies last night, I barely got any sleep but it’s okay!” He handed you the container and flowers. At this point all nerves washed away. You were grinning from ear to ear. BinsHusband, Scara, Felix, was in front of you, and you were fully welcoming him.

                “Thank you, Felix.” You looked up at him, he had such beautiful eyes, you could see the freckles that framed his eyes as well. You both just stood there looking at each other before breaking eye contact and laughing.

                “I’m sorry I am really nervous; I don’t want to mess this up.” Felix rambled and messed with hair that was poking out of his beanie. You felt your heart smile, it was sweet that he was nervous.

                “Honestly, I almost threw up on the way here.” You admitted, this made him chuckle. It sounded so pretty; HE sounded so pretty.

                “Well let’s head inside so you can throw up in the café.” He joked and you nodded, putting the brownies into your backpack. Felix helped you of course, then hesitated when you were situated.

                “Um… Can I-“he motioned to your hand. You felt your face heat up and you grabbed his hand, “alright then.” He smiled. Felix led you two into the restaurant, one of your hands carrying the flowers and the other carrying his. It was almost as if it was meant to be held by him.

                “Tell me what you would like for brunch this morning, I will order and pay.” He said when you two sat down.

                “Felix, you don’t have to I have money.” You said, you didn’t want him to spend his money.

                “Y/nnnn please.” Felix whined, you decided to cave in.

                “Fine, I would like a vanilla coffee with extra cream, and uhhhhh…” You didn’t really know what you wanted to actually consume.

                “I will start you with that, pretty.” He got up and went to get you your coffee. You were sat there giggling to yourself, you texted Lea and Kai that you were safe and okay. Better than okay. Your stomach that was once nervous was replaced with butterflies. Over call when you were with him your heart was full and warm, now that he was actually in front of you it felt like you were on overdrive. In a good way of course.

When Felix came back with two drinks and three macaroons, you then finally noticed that barely anyone else was in the restaurant.

                “Is this place not popular?” You whispered. He took off his mask and sipped his iced coffee, the drink looked more like tinted milk than coffee.

                “Huh? Oh, its super popular why?” Felix watched you take off you mask and for a second, he seemed mesmerized.

                “There is like no customers here.” You let out a small chuckle and blew softly to cool your hot coffee. Your hands were thanking you for the warmth of the cup.

Felix looked around, “haha wow would you look at that, maybe 11am is a weird time to get coffee!” You gave him a funny look then sipped your coffee; it was FANTASTIC. Your eyes practically lit up, totally forgetting the weird apocalyptical atmosphere.

                “Good?” Felix giggled, you nodded and set down your coffee. You two ended up taking photos of each other because this really was a momentous occasion.

“Soooo, Y/n do you have to be back at a certain time? Like any plans today?”

You shook your head no, “actually I will probably be alone for the next couple days… But Kai and Lea said they would make it up to me after so.”

                “Oh? Why’s that?” He asked and took a bite of the yellow macaroon, after he nudged the container towards you. You smiled and took the pink one.

                “They have to film the Huening reunion.” You said, “you know, since their sister is an idol, idol stuff I guess.” You took a bite, this small pastry was so amazing.

                “Trust me I understand that.” Felix took another sip of his coffee, you noticed that sometimes he would bite the plastic straw. He had cute little habits that you didn't get the privilege of knowing about while on call.

You two made small talk before he disposed of the trash and walked you two out. Felix decided to walk with you along the river, it was such a sight. The early afternoon air, the way there was a small breeze that would move the hair peaking out of his beanie, gorgeous.

                “Are you going to be alone at your Air BnB then?” Felix asked, then put his hands up, “not trying to sound creepy.” He chuckled. You thought for a moment.

                “For the most part, yeah.” You said switching the arms at which you were carrying the flowers, “I think they’ll come back at the end of the day but I’m not sure.”

                “Ahhh, if they don’t tell me, I can see if you can stay with us. I’d be a little nervous with you there alone, you have some bad luck with that.” Felix kicked a rock. You gasped and playfully shoved him.

                “Okay I got my apartment EGGED ONCE! He ended up dumping her too… thank God.” You rolled your eyes.

                “Shit really?! Finally.” Felix sighed dramatically, “you also got followed home when you were alone. You have horrible luck Y/n ADMIT IT.”

You thought for a moment, “okay that I will give you. But that’s IT!”

                “If you stay with us, I have a lot of gaaames.” He said, trying to persuade you.

                “What happened to not wanting to be creepy?” You laughed.

Felix threw his head back and cackled, “if I had candy, I would have given it to you but I settled on the brownies.”

                “Surprised you didn’t try to pick me up in a white van.” You joked. He kept chuckling his shoulders bouncing a little.

                “Last time I checked you flew to me.”

You gasped again, “I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know you lived here!”

                “Mhmmmm suuuure!” He giggled and looked at you in a teasing manner.

Felix hummed to himself as you two kept walking, your hand brushed against his and he grabbed it with no hesitation this time.

                “Getting bold now?” You looked up at him, he smiled at you from under his mask which was now put back on.

                “Um, I have always been the bold one, thank you very much.” He teased back and nudged you. You giggled, like ACTUALLY giggled which made you blush out of embarrassment.

                “Awww is Pretty getting embarrassed.” Felix pushed, now standing in front of you, “your ears are reeedddd.”

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, "in your dreams..."

                “I am so happy you’re here. That itself feels like a dream.” Felix suddenly leaned down to you. You looked back at him and smiled from under your mask. It was hard to pretend to be mad at his teasing.

                “Would you be comfortable with watching a movie back at my place?” He asked, “tomorrow.”

You thought for a moment, fuck it right? I mean you already went out with him and it went really well.

                “I would love to; will your roommates be okay with it though? And don’t you work?” Your eyes stayed glued to his. He let out a small huff, seemingly getting reminded of reality.

                “I’ll tell them, it should be okay though, you’re lucky the oldest thinks you’re funny, and I’ll just get you after work its fine.” Felix shrugged. You turned your head slightly. Curiosity filled you, and you felt it was now or never to ask this of him...

                “I would love to.” You started and Felix eyes lit up, “but…” His face dropped.

                “Can you please tell me where you work?” You asked, “if you can’t… it-its fine but- “ You saw Felix take a deep breath as you stumbled over your words, you didn't want to upset him with this question and you were scared you overstepped.

                “I’m an idol.”

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Taglist: @bloofairyfox @yellowroses-world @g4m3girl @forevrglow @nepytune @rensimps @curly-fr13s @amara-mars

Taglist is always open :) if I ever accidentally leave out a tag please just remind me. I have horrible goldfish memory.

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authors note: HAPPY VALENTINESSSSSSS!!!! .5 WILL BE POSTED IN TODAY TOO AND YOU WILL NOT WANT TO MISS IT TRUST ME TRUST ME TRUST ME EHHEHEEEHHEEHHEHE DOUBLE POST FOR THE HOLIDAY I LOVE YOOOU!

I hope everyone is having a wonderful valentines day and if you dont have a valentines thats okay! I will be ur valentine :)

Eat well have candy and take a small break today. its a holiday after all. treat yourself I love you!

[eldritch-spouse]

Which of you dummies would join a book club ?

Santi would join one that talks about erotic books, he'd read the back of the book to get an idea of the book. He doesn't actually read it. He just let's the dorky humans get themselves riled up discussing the book. He just sitting their planning on how he gonna rail all the little dorks and nerds. When they ask him about the book he describes sensual secen that vaguely resemble the book . Its not right but no one is calling him out due to being highly flustered

I can see Nebul joining one and actually does get into discussion because he actually reads the books. If the book club discusses a book with a master in it. He gets really into and imagines himself as the master of all the little humans in the group. It gets quite because Nebul got little into it and he just plays it off as joking. The group is a little quiet after that.

I could see Patches join one. IF THAT LOSER GOT OUT THE CELERGY MORE AND LET HIMSELF HAVE FUN. He just so happened to join one with a cute human in it.(he actually been stalking them for a month now.) He just so happens to start talking to the cute human and becoming their book buddies really fast because they have so much in common.

Maybe Obie if his crush is in one and their always food their.

I'm not to sure about the rest. But I thought of funny Scenario with Admin. It's silly canon. Never to happen in canon.

Admin in a club meeting discussing the romance of the two main characters.

Admin isn't agreeing with person in the group about a ship. But it's still pretty civil discussion . Krulu appears out now where.

Krulu: Actually your both wrong, clearly Kevin the leader is the better choice for the protagonist. He clearly the superior lesser. 🙄💅

Half of the group dies from shock, the ones that are alive are traumatized crying on the floor or are so shocked they can't move.

Krulu: Oh no, how sad the meeting must be over since everyone is seems to be so occupied at the moment. It's such a shame. 😔 let's go lamb.

Book clubs, huh?

Oh yeah, Santi only reads if it's something made by an author from the lust ring. And even then, his attention span can leave a lot to be desired if it isn't like, the raunchiest thing to ever be written. He brings volumes of filthy eroticas to every meeting, especially anything to do with incubi, so that he can then read nasty passages aloud and interrupt with:

" This is true, we can cum several times. " (Casts lidded glances at everyone.) " The vast majority of us also have slits, as you can see. " (Spreads legs.)

Or:

" Not everyone reacts the same to our saliva and the author explained this perfectly! Does anyone want to volunteer? I only want you guys to have the most immersive experience, of course. "

He will not rest until an orgy is achieved.

Nebul is usually one to stick to more philosophical books or anything related to astrology, even astronomy or psychology. He won't shy from an erotic romance once or twice however. Though he's likely to go on long-winded spiels about how most of these romances portray a flawed or lackluster interpretation of power imbalances in kink. Or how they're nothing compared to the true symbiosis of master and pet dynamics.

The wraith will likely sit next to the most timid or soft-spoken people and get off by exerting pressure on them. They're silently influenced to agree with him and get subtle praise when they do so, he's already working his magic without them even knowing. Any more dominant-presenting people will be challenged into backing down constantly. He wants to be in charge of the club.

Let's face it, Obie is more likely to eat the books when no one's looking than actually read them. Uhh... What chapter are we on again?

Patches knows every book you like and he's read them all before you. Do you want recommendations? Because the dullahan has at least twenty possible titles you'd probably love. Oh no no, you don't have to buy them! He'll let you borrow his copies, it's the least he can do for someone as cultured as you! Besides, the two of you seem to have similar tastes, how about you ditch this club and he can take you two somewhere calmer to read together?

Whenever you read any book, Krulu is also technically reading it, even if indirectly. He's probably complaining that you take much longer to read than him, which drives the higher nuts. If you do go to any book club, I assure you Krulu's going to be scrutinizing everyone in the back of your mind, and he will force you to criticize mediocre writing in the most possible insulting manner towards the people who enjoy reading it. Human literature bores him to the core, it's a complete snoozefest for Krulu. They'll get bored enough to fuck around with the surroundings, making walls deform or objects move on their own, touching people without them seeing his hands. Anything to speed this shit up.

Agner would love a book club, he's the only one that's normal about it.

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 27: Shelter. Shingen's POV from the river, the rain, and the cave.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

It had been too late even before they started terracing the hills and trying to divert the waters into overflow ponds. A project like this ought to have begun months, perhaps years before the flooding, not in the middle of a deluge. Shingen thought this might even be the biggest sin to lay at Nobunaga’s feet, for in diverting their attention to battle, needed projects such as this had been postponed, or ignored.

Even knowing that it was a futile effort, they were giving it everything they had to redirect some of the water before it reached the river. Sasuke, at least, instantly grasped what Shingen had in mind, and scurried from one post to another, giving practical suggestions without having to ask for further instructions.

But after working through the wet, miserable night, and into the next afternoon, with the rain continuing to fall, there was that feeling that… it wasn’t going to be enough. Homes would be lost. Lives maybe, too. The specter of failure pulled at him. Another project potentially left undone.

He shut his eyes to the raging waters, while the rain poured off his helmet and dripped down the back of his neck.

When he reopened them, she was standing in front of him, looking, as usual, like a drowned rat. Angel or devil, he didn’t even know any longer. But what was she – easier to just ask. “Why are you here?”

Katsu, because in those clothes, with that mirage of soldierly decorum, it was Katsu, and not duplicitous woman he had revealed himself to be, said, “Yukimura asked me to deliver a status report and a message.”

I don’t have time for this. “Well? What is it?”

Since Katsu seemed unusually reticent, Shingen glanced over his shoulder. “Sasuke! Tell them to bring more rocks to shore up that retaining wall!” Sasuke gave a salute to indicate message received and headed further up hill. Shingen turned his attention back to Katsu.

“Kenshin’s got the banks of the lowest point of the river built up about this high, and we’ve evacuated all of the towns up to the coast.” She drew an invisible line right about at her waist. That’s not going to be high enough. Time was running out, on this, on him.

But she was still talking. “Yukimura said … that you should return to the castle and have Sasuke take a shift.”

Had he? What had he told her? Was that why she was here? Because now she knew about his illness? He studied her face. No, there was no sympathy or knowledge in that expression. She was here because Yukimura told her to be here. Just following orders. For once. “Message delivered. Tell Yuki no.”

She continued to stand there, and again he wondered why she was still … well, with them at all. Once her masquerade had been revealed, she ought to have left. Yoshimoto had told him that he’d managed to prevent her – at least temporarily - from leaving on what would amount to a suicide mission to confront Yoshiaki. But even that didn’t explain why she had joined the teams outside. Though if she had been telling the truth about losing her home in a storm – and that was a big if – then he supposed she would feel strongly about helping those in a similar situation. “Anything else?”

“Um. N-no. It’s… j-just that Yukimura was pretty insistent that I make you leave, which, I know I have no way of doing, but I’ve never seen him look that worried about anything,” she sounded a lot more hesitant than normal. “I guess if you’re not going to leave, can you at least go inside that tent over there and eat something, so I can at least tell him you’re not … pushing yourself.”

Yuki was worried – worried enough to send Katsu all the way up here. Shingen wasn’t going to leave, couldn’t leave in the middle of this project, but he could at least send back some reassurance. “Tell him this is worth the risk. And not to worry. I’m doing fine.” For now. He was doing fine for now.

She nodded and turned around without saying goodbye, slowly making her way down the muddy path toward the river. If all that had happened over the past couple of days, well, if it hadn’t happened, he would have been happy to see Katsu, might have taken a moment to show him what they were doing here. Actually, if things had been different, Katsu would have been with him up here from the start. But everything was different now.

His friend Katsu didn’t exist.

Because it had been Yuki who asked him, via Katsuko, not to push himself, Shingen did follow the suggestion and grabbed a few morsels to eat. He’d only just picked up a bowl of now-cold rice, when Sasuke appeared at his elbow, slipping into his vicinity in that silent way he had.

Something was slightly off about Kenshin’s ninja though. Shingen couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. Was it that his clothes seemed cleaner than earlier? That odd thought fled his mind, when Sasuke spoke. “A little boy just fell into the river.”

“Where? How close are we?” Was there time to get a rope? Unlikely. He dropped the bowl, not caring that is splattered on the ground, and rushed after Sasuke.

Sasuke pointed. “There… downriver – Katsuko ran after him.”

Once again, he felt that fist around his heart tighten as he ran for his horse. “Can she swim?”

He looked back over his shoulder, but the ninja had vanished.

Of course, he couldn’t have expected her to keep her promise not to take any insane, stupid risks. She could likely toss off false promises as easily as the lies that were a second nature to her.

By the time he was on his horse, galloping along the riverbank, there was no sight of either Katsuko or a child in the water. Across the raging waters, a group frantic people were running alongside the river – the boy’s family, he assumed.

They were pointing – finally, he located the boy, floundering in the water. But where was Katsuko? Had she gone in after him? Had she--?

As he rounded a bend, he saw her up ahead, hanging half upside down from a tree that stretched out over the river. Even as he fathomed her plan; recognized its merit, there was a part of him that wanted to drag her down from the tree, pull her to safety.

All he could do was hold his breath, watching as his daredevil messenger dangled over the river, one arm reaching toward the child who in moments would pass underneath.

Katsuko snagged the back of the boy’s clothing, while he reached up and clung to her arm. Shingen hurried toward them, prepared to help pull the boy to shore if she didn’t have the strength to lift him into the tree.

CRACK.

He would be replaying the image of Katsuko, no, it was Katsu, falling into the river for the rest of his life. He might lose them both – the mischievous forest sprite who played kiss-and-run, and the puzzle-loving messenger who he’d looked forward to seeing every afternoon.

Even while his mind was reeling, his body already had urged his horse into a gallop, flying along the riverbank, as he kept them in sight, feeling that clench of panic every time her head disappeared under water.

She’d kept her grip on the branch though, and the boy – good girl. Admiration for her determination broke through the fear. Yes, that’s it… keep your head up. As they continued to gallop along the riverside, his brain flipped into tactics, as he analyzed the current, assessing where the water was most likely to send them. He knew this river, had studied it. Up ahead, the channel widened, which would lessen the rapids, somewhat, but hopefully still be shallow enough for his horse to cross.

Without hesitation, his well-trained horse entered the river at his signal, and at least at first, seeming to find a foothold on the bottom. But the further toward the center he got, the less steady his horse was.

He’d gotten used to measuring out the remainder of his life in months –  was that measurement going to be down to heartbeats?

Fortunately, his horse had found his footing again, and he pressed forward, aiming for a place that would intercept their progress. Then Katsu was slammed into a boulder, ricocheting them almost out of reach… but…

He had them. He had her. She looked at him, seeming dazed – had she hit her head on that rock? – before blinking the water out of her eyes, and pushing the boy into his arms while she climbed onto his horse. I have you.

They weren’t nearly out of danger, but at least Katsu and the boy weren’t being flung about in the rapids. Worried that he was asking too much of his horse, especially when once again, he faltered, he climbed off, hoping to help lead him to the bank. “Hold on,” he told Katsu. Would she listen? He sensed, rather than saw her make a move to help. “If you get off this horse, I will drown you myself.”

Muttering under his breath, every obscenity he knew, in random order, he guided his horse toward the closest bank. Even after he sensed the moment his horse once again was able to touch the bottom of the river, he didn’t relax until they were all safely out of the water.

And then it was simply enough to stand there and gaze at where they had all been. They were out of the water, but in front of his eyes was the image of Katsuko tossed about in the rapids, being slammed against the rocks, tangled up in the debris. He looked over at her, just to confirm that yes, she was there. She too was staring at the water. He wondered if she realized she was still hanging onto the little boy as if his life was still in danger.

“Hiko!”

An older man – presumably the boy’s father rushed up. He grabbed his son, alternately hugging then yelling – and Shingen related to every change of mood. “Thank you for saving my only son. Hiko is a careless whelp, but he would be missed.”

“No thanks are needed,” Shingen said. He ruffled the boy’s wet hair.

“Be that as it may, I am grateful,” the man said. He looked over his shoulder at where the rest of the family group was making their way along the riverbank. “I would have been left with five useless daughters.”

He didn’t have to see Katsuko’s face to know how she felt about that, and even before she took a step forward, Shingen prepared to haul her back to his side. He placed a warning hand on her shoulder. Immediately she stiffened. Did she still fear his touch?

Annoyed, he turned his attention back to Hiko’s father. “I’ve found a multitude of uses for them,” Shingen said. “But I’m glad we were able to be of service to you.”

The boy’s mother scurried up with a blanket and wrapped her son up in it. Before rejoining his family, he turned and hugged Katsuko. He imagined that being in the river together had been somewhat of a bonding experience – and if he were being completely honest, he wasn’t sure if the boy would have survived without her. Shingen likely would not have gotten to him in time, were it not for Katsuko keeping Hiko’s head above water. But even that honesty couldn’t overcome the fear and anger that still coursed through him.

“I cannot repay you, but, would you like to have one of my daughters?” The man gestured to where five girls were lined up. “Sho,” he said, and the tallest girl stepped forward. She gave him a shy smile.

She was a pretty child, but possibly young enough to be his daughter. He smiled at her, and tried to be kind about the rejection. “I couldn’t separate you from your family, Princess.” Then he addressed her father. “You do me honor, but I am not in any position to add to my household.”

The man bowed, then went to his wagon, and returned with a couple sea otter pelts and a sack of something that clinked. “Please accept these as a token of my gratitude.”

Shingen nodded, and stowed the gifts in his saddlebags.

The family all bowed and headed back up river.

Katsuko looked at him warily, and it was on the tip of his tongue to give her a lecture that she would never forget, but on the heels of that thought was the memory of her falling into the river, and before he could think better of it, he’d pulled her into his arms. Simply to confirm that she was real and alive and here and … ahhh… not wearing that binding she normally wore around her breasts when she dressed as a boy.

He stepped back quickly and didn’t miss that flinch she gave when he gripped her shoulders. “Didn’t you promise never to do something that dangerous again?”

“I did not!” She gave him a calm and steady glare. “I said I couldn’t promise that. I might be a liar, but I don’t make promises that I don’t intend to keep.” She yanked herself out of reach.

Does she think I’m going to strangle her? He was tempted to do all sorts of things, but of course he could control those impulses.

Meanwhile, she continued to protest. “What I said was that I would consult you if feasible. It was not feasible.”

That… was likely the correct assessment of the situation, but that didn’t lessen the anger he felt. “Do you have any idea what could have happened if Sasuke hadn’t gotten my attention in time?”

“Yes.” The look she gave him was easily translatable. “But, if the tree branch hadn’t broken, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Did she not remember they had fought about this before? More likely she remembered but hoped he didn’t. “The hell we wouldn’t. Just because you survived, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a stupid, reckless thing to do!” Again, some part of him recognized that her actions had likely saved the boy’s life, but he couldn’t stop himself from yelling.

“I didn’t have much time to think-“

“That, is obvious-“

“What else was I supposed to do? Let the boy drown?”

No… that was not in her nature. If he were honest with himself, if this had been almost anyone else standing in front of him, he would have admired them for it. Maybe she was a liar, but whatever was in her dubious moral code wouldn’t allow her to stand back when lives were at stake.

His horse meanwhile, apparently had had enough of both of them, and chose that moment to try and shake off the river. Right. They couldn’t stay here all night. “Come on. We’ll need to find shelter before we lose daylight.”

Not bothering to check whether or not Katsuko was following, he mounted his horse. He didn’t notice he was holding his breath until he felt her climb on behind him. At least she was willing to let him take the lead in finding shelter. That relief had him prod his horse forward sooner than he’d intended, and Katsuko let out a little, “eep” as she hurried to wrap her arms around his waist. Possibly the only time she’d ever rushed to grab him.

He doubted they would find any structures in the area, but the hills were riddled with caves; it was only a matter of finding one large enough to shelter them. Hopefully before the sunset – otherwise, they’d have to build something out of branches. Either way, an uncomfortable night loomed ahead of them.

Katsuko’s grip on him slackened – was she falling asleep? He reached to take her hand, and he sensed her startling into awareness again. The near-drowning must be catching up to her. If she’s that exhausted, she ought to be in front … better to ensure she didn’t fall off. It was unlikely that she would accept if he made that suggestion, so he simply did his best to wake her up every time he sensed her dozing off.

Finally, he found a likely cave set back in the hills and pulled his horse to a stop. “This will have to do,” he said.

Katsuko shook herself awake, and peered around him. He could feel her actually shudder when she saw his idea of a shelter. “Th-that’s a c-cave,” she said.

Was she still afraid to be alone with him? The implication was insulting. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take the opportunity to push my unwanted attentions on you again.” He wouldn’t have pushed them to begin with, if he’d had any idea they were not welcome. Usually, they were quite welcome, if not invited. In fact, often, they were encouraged.

Not wanting to even look at her at this point, he busied himself with finding the driest possible place to settle his horse, built him a bit of a rain-break out of branches, then walked past her into the cave. “Coming?” If she didn’t follow him inside, he would literally carry her in there – whatever her feelings were toward him was no reason to spend the night sitting in the rain.

After a moment of hesitation, he heard her footsteps patter in. She halted again, right by the mouth of the cave. “Do you have a lantern?”

“I was more concerned with catching up to you, than I was with grabbing a lantern.” He did have the saddlebags, though, and hopefully, between the leather of the bags and the oilskin wrappings, his clothes would be… they were damp in places. But not soaked. “The slightly good news is that I had yet to unpack my saddlebags, so at least I’ve got a change of clothing. Not completely dry, more’s the pity, but the oilskin protected them to an extent.”

He wrapped a layer of his kimono in one of the pelts. “Get out of those wet things.” He tossed the bundle toward the direction of her voice.

The faint light from the mouth of the cave was just enough to outline her body, but her features were in shadow. He doubted that she could see him at all. Even so, he made sure to look away from her, as he changed into dry – drier – clothes. Hopefully, although he doubted he would be that lucky, he wouldn’t get sick, or if he did, that the worst of it would hold off until he could be back in Kasugayama.

Once drier, he took stock of their provisions. He always kept a packet of rice cakes in his saddlebags – not that there was any danger of starvation, but they ought to eat. “If you can manage to bring yourself closer to me, I’ve found some field rations of dried rice.” What else – what had the trader given them? He rooted through the sack, found a couple of bottles. He opened one and took a tentative sip. “And the trader gave us some sake.”

The stilted reply came from the front of the cave – apparently she’d parked herself as far as possible from him. “No thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” More for him then. He took a quick bite, got some petty satisfaction at the echo of the crunch.

At some point, they needed to have it out, clear whatever misconceptions and lies still stood between them, this discomfort was becoming unbearable, but he didn’t have the energy to take that on. He would still have to keep a distant eye on her at Kasugayama until they could prove to her that going after Yoshiaki was unnecessary. Say what you will about Nobunaga – and Shingen had said plenty – he would deal with that problem himself.

Hopefully, by the time she moved on to whatever life she chose for herself, they’d at least part if not as friends, but with a better knowledge of who they were, and who they weren’t.

Once she left, he could always have his mitsumono keep track of her, simply to assure himself that she was alive and safe. He’d like to know that, and, well, in a few months that would no longer be an issue. Maybe she’d find her way to someone who could keep her daredevil impulses in check, keep her safe. Someone who would appreciate the way she threw herself into investigating puzzles, who would recognize her latent talent for strategy– perhaps he really should send her to work for Mitsuhide. Let the two of them drive each other crazy. She’d probably prove enough of a distraction for Nobunaga’s spymaster to keep him out of Kenshin’s hair for a while. It was a rather elegant solution… and he hated it.

He looked toward the entry to the cave, but it was now pitch black. He could no longer see Katsuko, but he could hear her breathing… and…

Something’s not right.

He’d certainly spent enough time laboring to breathe, to recognize when someone else was struggling. Struggling with what, though? “Katsu? Is something wrong?”

Her breath choked off with a sharp intake – the sound of someone trying to pretend that everything was fine. He knew that sound too. He’d performed that masquerade. Katsuko was terrified. Maybe of him. But more likely, he’d been mistaken …about many things.

He stood up. Keeping one hand over his head to make sure he didn’t accidentally walk into the low hanging ceiling of the cave – the last thing he needed on top of everything else was a concussion- he hugged the wall as he made his way back to where he believed Katsuko was sitting. “You’re really not ok, are you?”

She reached out and took his hand. Some of the tension he’d been holding uncoiled at the feeling of that hand in his. There was trust in that hand. She needed him. “N-n-no.”

He slid down the wall to sit next to her – she was curled up, her face on her knees. He’d seen this before – sometimes in battle. Sometimes after, when soldiers could not erase the scenes of battle from their mind. “I’m here.” The battle, whatever it was, was in her mind. There wasn’t much he could do, but he could be here. To give her something else to latch onto besides her thoughts, he started talking, a half nonsense, half-truth story about the orphaned bear cub he had adopted and a day that it had gotten into Kenshin’s stash of pickled plums.

He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her relax slightly. He remembered the horror in her voice when she saw the cave – was it the cave, or the dark? She’d asked for a lantern. And yet, it had been fairly dark at the lake, and she’d had no trouble blowing out the candle in the Inn. He’d walked into Katsu’s room once at night, and there hadn’t been a candle or lantern left burning.

Not the dark. The cave itself?

A fragment of memory from the night he’d tried to forget presented itself. He’d been too mad at her at the time to take it in, but he’d heard everything…

“Was the opportunity too great to pass up when you tried to kill me before?”

“I tried to kill you a few times… can you be more specific?”

“Box.”

“Oh, the crate. That one I just left up to fate whether or not you survived. If Motonari had let you out before you died of thirst, I imagine he’d have found some use for you. It didn’t matter to me as long as you were gone.”

The vassal, Iekane, also from Katsuko’s past – he’d locked her in a crate, apparently loaded her on a ship? A Mouri ship? How long had she been shut in there? An experience like that – yes, that could leave a person with a fear of dark closed in places. The idea of his daredevil forest sprite locked inside a…

His?

Yes. She had followed him home, and he was keeping her.

His.

For as long as he was able, he was keeping her.

His.

Katsuko sighed and melted against him. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

He didn’t. Everyone was afraid of something. He attempted to lighten the mood. “Aside from your habit of flinging yourself out of trees, Devil, no.” He brushed his fingers through her still-damp hair, resisting the urge to cup her face, and seal her lips with a kiss. Not the right time.

But hopefully, soon.

[Very soon... look for another post later today]

@bestbryn

[demonmary]

two discount lives: a marytoni fic

chapter one.

Mary is alone. For the first time since she went to sleep with two young sons and a loving husband and a beautiful home, for the first time since she woke up to blood and fire and death and then nothing, nothing for so long, and now this…

For the first time since that, Mary is alone. Or feels alone.

She is sitting in a car that doesn’t belong to her (not even by marriage anymore - no - her husband is dead, and everyone is acting like this is old news, even though Mary just found out, god her John is dead and she just found out) on some road she’s never driven, on some hunt she’s got no choice but to be on. She’s quickly falling back into her old ways of living someone else’s life. 

Because this? This is not Mary’s life. It can’t be.

[read on a03 or continue below]

Sitting in the driver’s seat of Mary’s dead husband’s car is a 37-year-old man who’s calling her mom, like this is normal, like she wasn’t holding four-year-old-him on her hip what feels like yesterday, like Mary wasn’t 29 today and somehow 28 thirty-four years ago.  

Last night she burned. This morning she’s alive.

She has no time to process any of this, of course, because she’s on the way to get her six-month-old son who is actually 33 now; oh my god, Mary is going to be sick. 

“Stop the car,” Mary feels herself say the words but does not recognize the voice, not through the pounding of blood in her ears and the taste of smoke in her mouth. 

She doesn’t need to look up to see the worry painted across the man’s face. She can hear it in his panicked reassurances and the way he keeps calling her mom, always mom, like she is supposed to recognize him as her own and not see him as the stranger that stands before her. 

As the car that once belonged to her heaven-husband and is now being driven by her stranger-son skids to a stop on the side of a country road, Mary flings the door open to take a breath of fresh air, and her lungs find only dust. She chokes on her inhale and spits out onto the road, trying to clear the grit from the inside of her cheeks and from down inside her throat. 

She will be fine. She always is. Not even turning their family home into her funeral pyre can keep Mary down. 

******************

They’re driving again, hopefully pointed towards Sam, little perfect-baby Sammy, and imperfect-Mary hates how she can’t think about him too much. She hates how thinking of her baby brings knots to her stomach and nails to her palms before she realizes her hands are fists. She supposes some of that guilt doesn’t belong to her, not now that Sammy is his own adult.

She also supposes that thought makes her kind of evil, or at least selfish, and aren’t those two things one and the same for women?

Mary realizes she must have been quiet for too long because the man beside her - Dean - breaks the silence, all bundled nerves and worry, and it reminds Mary of her Dean, always fussing and fixing.  

“You, um,” Dean starts, stumbling a little on his introduction. “You can talk to me, you know, if you want to. I know that…” A long pause, then a rush of words follows, and hearing them fills Mary with a confusing rush of guilt. “From experience, the whole dying thing can be sorta shocking.”

Mary tears her gaze away from her hands and forces herself to look at her son.  

Her son.  

Dean was supposed to get away from this. He was four years old, and he wanted to take dance classes, and he had just learned how to braid Mary’s hair - loose and uneven, but braids nonetheless - and his hands were so small. Tiny, gentle things that pulled at her apron and played clumsily with the bow tied at the back. The man she sits next to now grips the wheel with bruised knuckles and gunmetal-calloused fingers, talking about death like she’s an old friend. 

He was supposed to get away. 

“I don’t remember anything after the fire. Death was like blinking.” Mary says it to reassure him. It’s unsettling to her, but nothing is better than something, at least if she bases that on the relief that slides off of Dean when she says it.  

She decides not to ask about her son’s death. They’re both here now, so it cannot matter.  

***************

They get to the farmhouse where her son is likely being held, and the guilt spreads like fire, burning hot in Mary’s stomach, swelling and kicking at her insides. She instinctively grips at the pain, wincing with the memories.  

It’s all her fault, all of it, the blood, the burning, all the death that came after and since. She doesn’t even know all that has happened while she’s been dead, but she knows it’s her fault. Her sons are older than her and have lived worse lives, and all of that is her fault too, her fault for not being there and her fault for setting those dominos in motion.  

Selfish. Selfish Mary, unwilling to lose her heaven-prescribed love, reluctant to see the fire through the forest and the forest for the trees. Dooming her family before it even began.  

Last month, Dean started preschool.  

Today, Mary’s son presses a gun into her hands and she tries not to cry. She doesn’t have time for tears now.

***************

When they open the door to the basement and Sam is there, she barely notices the years she missed through her son’s blood. The decades don’t matter when her baby is broken, shivering on the floor of a dirty basement. His age is covered by the burns, by the cuts, by the rage that Mary feels towards whoever or whatever did this to him.  

Dean rushes to his side, and Mary whips around, her fury blotted out by confusion when she sees a woman standing there, prim and proper, so viscerally out of place in her surroundings. The shock that Mary felt seemed to be mirrored back at her, the woman’s composure flickering for a moment before her expression washed clean.  

The woman waves her hand, and gold rings at the base of slim fingers flash across Mary’s vision before it starts to go dark in the corners. She’s staring, transfixed, at the center of the woman’s palm, suddenly noticing the blood flowing there, dark deep red, spilling down the woman’s wrist, and it’s a while before she realizes she cannot breathe. It’s the darkness that teases at the edges of her sight that finally clues her in - the fuzziness in her brain and the fading of her consciousness. 

Mary’s been choked before, felt a large hand squeeze against the sides of her breath, violent in the way it ripped the air from her lungs. It’s never been this soft before, this peaceful. She manages to look past the woman’s outstretched hand as the darkness starts to overcome her, and the two lock eyes.  

Mary and her killer. It’s simple. There’s no air here to distract from the clarity of it. 

She feels death curling around her feet, and it feels like the flames did, but cold this time. Ice cold and gripping.  

The grasp falters for a moment, and Mary strains to pull in a breath, a heavy one that rasps and drags down her throat and claws into her hungry lungs. The small intake of air brings clarity, and Mary senses something akin to surprise behind the mask of careful concentration that the other woman wears.  

Her killer’s lips are moving, but Mary cannot hear. Her focus is solely on the lack of breath in her lungs; the gasp she cannot take; the easy beauty of her killer; the comfort of the end.  

Death is familiar, Mary finds herself thinking. A ghost of a smile passes across her lips, and the darkness lapping at the sides of her vision begins to overtake her.  

The illusion is shattered with a sudden, violent start. Mary didn’t see it coming, and neither did her killer, but Dean had clambered to his feet and knocked her attacker to the ground, ending the peaceful grasp Mary was cradled within.  

The next breath of air that Mary takes in burns worse than death. 

a03 link! kudos and comments make my world go round and round. also reblogs r appreciated if u liked it!

[allthingslea]

Thanksgiving Day, 3rd Month

October 10th, Thanksgiving Day. Also our 3rd month of being together. To be honest, there was a posibility that we weren't gonna meet up because Edmar got sick with covid. However here we are, and a lot of things happened. The whole day was a blast. Literally.

It started by picking her up from Tsawwassen at 9AM. We had breakfast at Tims. What's hilarious is that we both thought of getting bagels this time. I guess we were both tired of farmers wraps. Anyways, yes, as usual, we talked, and I was excited for the day.

After having breakfast, we drove to Bridgeport Park n Fly, and took the Canada Line to downtown. When we arrived, it was a little chilly so Lea wanted to by a hoodie. However, all the stores were still closed so we sat down at the food court of Pacific Center to pass time. We talked, and we ended up reflecting about how the past month went. We both agreed that it was better than the first two months. We both realized how much we grew and how much we love each other, that we were both tearing up. I was going to save it until the end of the day, but I ended up giving her the necklace I have been holding on to for a while now.

When I was in the Philippines, I asked my cousin to purchase this Ben&Ben x Celeste necklace, inspired by my favourite Ben song, Araw Araw. I promised myself that I would give this necklace to the person I would love one day. Lo and behold, the beholder of the new neckalce, Lea Joy.

After spending about 45 minutes being silly when we were only going to pass time for 5 minutes, we started walking around and bought a hoodie at H&M. After, we walked to Waterfront, and around Canada Place. At the peak of it, I saw a seabus and asked her if she wanted to ride it. You know how impulsive we can be sometimes. So we did, we rode the seabus to North Vancouver.

During the ride, we had a deep and intimate conversation. I don't remember how it started, but she told me her 2nd biggest secret. Her dream. One of the reasons why she's in Canada. Love, if you end up reading this, I just want to say my many thanks for sharing your vulnerabilities. I appreciate you and I will try my very best to be here for you. Anyways, we arrived at Lonsdale Quay, sat down on a bench facing downtown, and continued talking. In front of us were padlocks with names and hards engraved, locked to a chain fence. We reminisced more about how we met, the coincidences, and chances. Since she has shared her secrets with me, I shared mine as well. Stories that no one has ever heard.

It got sunny and warm so we decided to walk around and talk, again more secrets and stories. She also shared a secret that only I know about.

We found our way back to the market, circled the food court, and decided to get some pizza. As we were eating, we reflected once again. We both had this feeling that since we both shared the things we hide, we feel a much stronger connection- a feeling that we can both tell each other anything and everything.

We also talked about how it's starting to get cold. She brought up the idea of moving away from Tsawwassen and living closer to school. I supported the idea and provided suggestions for the next steps. I suggested to start planting seeds/thoughts in her mom's mind that it's cold and the commute is far. The funny thing is, the next morning, her mom messages her out of nowhere and asks how it's like nowadays and fully support the idea of moving out.

Time flew by quick, there was still dinner at home so we decided to make our way back- seabus > canada line > back to my car. When we got to Tsawwassen, there was still some time so we deviced to hang out for a bit, in the backseat of my car.

Here's the thing, she's on birth control, and she's on her period. BUT things got heated. We actually had period sex.

Things got REALLY heated. I saw that she was getting close, and I told her that so was I. She told me that it was okay if I finish inside. I asked three times if she was sure, and each time, she said yes. So I did. We both finished at the same time, raw. Oh god, as I write this, I still remember the sensation.

I pulled out and saw it ooze out. Let's just say it was a bloody, sticky mess. We managed to get clean without dirtying my car though! After cleaning up and changing, we immediately went to the mall, straight to the washroom to clean up and for her to try to flush it out. After using the washroom, we talked a little bit. We were both sure we were fine, but for peace of mind and reassurance, we decided it would be best if she takes a contingency pill. We were chill and laughing about it though, instead of being tense and scared. But we both realized the reality of what we just did.

We walked to Shoppers in the mall, but they didn't have it. While we were there, we bought a sushi tray for dinner. We also went to Wal-Mart to check, but the pharmacy was closed already. We drove to another Shoppers, and we talked that if they have it or not, it's meant to be. She went in, turns out they had it, so she bought it.

We got back to the house, used to washroom to clean up some more. We settled down at the dining table and she drank the medicine. We ate Thanksgiving dinner, talked for a bit to reflect about what happened that night, and then I went home.

Luckily, there were no major side effects from the contingency pill. I'm about to see her later because at this time of posting, it's her birthday.

October 10th was a day to remember. My love for Lea Joy just keeps getting stronger, and our bond just keeps growing.

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV 5: The L'Manburg Captain

DSMPsona created by anon

- - -

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

DSMPsona Submission Rules

- - -

Bones was, to say it simply, sick of fighting.

The Guard had been fighting other people’s battles for as long as he could remember. Being raised by two guards on Hypixel, he grew up around fighting. He would be there as his parents broke up violent fights in lobbies, as they enforced the server rules when the admins couldn’t, and he watched as they slowly turned to him to teach him to do the same.

He had become a guard himself, but he grew weary of the fast-paced life of Hypixel. The server was always updating, always changing, and with the highest and fastest-growing population of any server, it was hard to keep track of what was going on.

So, eventually, Bones picked up his things, went to the server hub, and left.

He bounced from one smaller survival server to another, eventually hearing about something called the ‘Dream SMP’ server. Knowing that he had nothing better to do, the Guard decided to join it.

He spawned in a spruce forest, walled in on every side. There were others around the server portal that he had just emerged from, all milling around.

“What’s going on?” Bones asked someone nearby.

The woman he had addressed sighed, and she sounded exhausted. “We’re all just waiting to be greeted.”

After another hour, Dream, a man famous for both his parkour and combat skills, appeared and greeted the newest members of the server. He hadn’t realized that the Dream was the Admin of this world.

Two others stood next to the Admin. One, dressed in regal apparel, wore dark sunglasses over their eyes, a crown resting over their brow. The other wore what looked to be a war uniform. His hands folded behind his back, his gaze steady as it swept over the crowd, he had a firm smile on his face.

The first introduced herself as King Eret, leader of the Greater SMP, while the second called himself President Wilbur Soot, the head of a newly-formed country known as L’Manburg.

The Guard, who considered himself to always be on the side of the people, heard that L’Manburg had recently gained independence after fighting a Revolution in order to “free themselves from tyranny.” The Guard moved into L’Manburg the next day.

He was given a free place to live for a month, giving him time to acclimate to the server, as well as get a job to be able to actually get his own place. Not knowing what else to do, Bones joined the L’Manburg army. He didn’t care for fighting, but it was the only thing that he was good at.

His reputation from Hypixel preceded him, apparently. Being a guard on the biggest server was a very respected career, and Bones found it easy to move up the ranks rather quickly. It probably helped that the L’Manburg forces were rather lacking in terms of officers with actual experience. Guard training on Hypixel was often more intense than many servers’ military training programs, as well, so Bones had no trouble dominating in L’Manburg’s program.

When the elections occurred, the Soldier proudly cast his vote for President Soot and VP Tommy. Bones voted for the people, and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit were for the people.

The election results, then, were upsetting, to say the least. Bones refused to listen as the new President Schlatt exiled the previous administration and called on the forces of L’Manburg to kill them. He stood in place, nails digging into his palm and screaming profanities as President Soot was bowed down and VP Tommy managed to just barely slip away.

That evening, while on patrol (which he had been demoted to for a month after his show during the inauguration), Bones spotted someone in the treeline.

“Who’s there?” The Soldier called. There was nothing for a moment and Bones aimed his crossbow at the forest. The bushes rustled and then TommyInnit stepped out, his hands raised above his head.

“Vice President?” Bones asked, lowering the crossbow. The leaves shifted again and another emerged. The Soldier blinked, shock holding him in place. “Technoblade?”

Technoblade raised an eyebrow and glanced down at VP Tommy. “Do I need to kill this guy?”

VP Tommy shook his head emphatically. “I don’t think so.” He turned back to Bones. “Do we need to kill you?”

“Are you starting a rebellion?” Bones asked, ignoring the question. A nod was given in response, and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Can I join?”

VP Tommy grinned up at Technoblade. “Told you!” The teenager looked back at the Soldier. “Go ask Niki! Wil said she’s making a rebellion inside Manburg, he sent her the Pogtopia coordinates!”

Bones nodded. “You best be going. I’m meant to be on patrol.”

VP Tommy lazily saluted and bolted off into the woods. Technoblade stared at Bones, gave him a curt nod, and then was gone as well.

The next day, after getting the location of the rebellionfrom Niki Nihachu, Bones gathered his valuables, his beloved dog Rosa, and ran. As he wove through the trees, following the beeping of the communicator to reach the correct coordinates, the Soldier wondered if he would be demoted for this.

He knocked on the rock wall the way that he had been shown to at the bakery, and it slid open to reveal an exhausted-looking President Soot.

The man’s eyes lit up when they landed on him.

“Captain Bones!” President Soot exclaimed, reaching out a hand to shake it firmly. Bones ignored how shaky the other’s fingers were. “What brings you here?” He paused. “Are you here to capture us? Because we’re not on L’Manburg land.”

Bones shook his head. “I heard you’re starting a rebellion?”

Soot’s eyes widened, and then he grinned and ushered the Captain inside.

Pogtopia was a ravine with grayed stones that reflected the mood of all who lived there. Bones started teaching a combat course for those who didn’t know how to fight, and the determination that shone in the eyes of teenagers who were just now choosing to pick up a weapon made him wonder when it had all come to this.

The Captain’s days in Pogtopia were not particularly memorable. He watched as President Soot slowly delved deeper and deeper in paranoia, to the point where he started accusing people like Bones, who had been in the rebellion since the beginning, of being spies all along.

Bones would dig his fingers in the fur of his dog on days like these and remember the inspiring leader that President Soot had once been.

Then, they won against Manburg on November 16th, and President Soot blew up the country before dying himself, and the Captain watched as President Tubbo stood in front of the people of L’Manburg and made promises of a brighter future.

And for a bit of time, it seemed like that could be true.

Then, though, as all good things do, the happiness came to an abrupt end as it was announced that VP Tommy had griefed the vacation home of GeorgeNotFound, the recently-crowned king of the Greater SMP. Dream, the Admin of the server himself, offered President Tubbo a choice: Exile TommyInnit, or their two factions would go to war.

The people of L’Manburg were all generally on the same page, screaming in the streets about how they were ready to fight again. TommyInnit was one of the founding members of the country, he had been there since the beginning. For Bones, though, above all else, it was about the fact that VP Tommy was a teenager. The Captain took to the streets with the others, calling out their readiness to go to war.

When VP Tommy was exiled, then, and sent off to some far-off island, Bones was back in the streets again, yelling at the top of his lungs about the injustice done against a child, thanks to the work of a foreign power.

“L’Manburg has never bowed down at the will of Dream before!” He exclaimed. “We aren’t going to start now!” His call was echoed by those around him, as the people called for justice to be served.

Weeks passed with the people of L’Manburg being tense and angry, the air stewing with conflict. On the eve of January 5th, the people were gathered and listened as President Tubbo, with VP Tommy somehow by his side, explained that the next day, their country would be destroyed.

That night, Bones moved Rosa and all the things that he actually cared about to his assigned tent at the campsite offered up to the L’Manburg residents. As people trickled into the camp, the Captain took anyone who wanted to try and fight the next day and continued the training sessions he’d led back in Pogtopia. There was a greater level of melancholy that had fallen over the people, but they listened nonetheless, and Bones taught and taught until his eyes were stinging from unshed tears and his muscles burned all through his body.

“Get some sleep,” President Tubbo said, joining Bones on the makeshift stage he had taken so that the whole crowd that he was training could see him. “You all are going to need it. Thank you for working so hard to fight for our country.” The teenager wiped at his eyes, and Bones realized through his exhaustion that the president was crying, too. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” President Tubbo nodded to the Captain, stepped off the stage, and was gone.

Doomsday was, to say the least, a disaster. L’Manburg was blown down to bedrock, there was nothing anyone could do, and by the end of it, Bones stood with the people of a ruined country and looked down at what remained of their home: A hole, one so deep and wide that nothing would ever be built there again.

King Eret stood next to President Tubbo and VP Tommy, overlooking the destruction.

“L’Manburg is gone,” President Tubbo finally said, addressing the crowd. “There will be no rebuilding from this. I’m so sorry, everyone.” Tears were streaming down his face. “L’Manburg was meant to be a safe place, somewhere that people could come to be happy and free. Maybe that was how it was in the beginning, but we lost our way. Maybe in another world, things could have been different.” The teenager laughed wetly, his eyes red as he turned to look at the people. “We did it wrong, but, hey, at least we tried.” He sniffed. “Maybe next time, we’ll do it better.” President Tubbo stopped talking, and everyone was silent for a moment. Then, King Eret began speaking.

“The campsite will remain set up for three more months. You may stay there while you search for a new place to live, whether that be somewhere on this server or on a different one entirely,” King Eret explained, her hands folded neatly behind her back. They glanced back at the crater, and Bones swore he saw a single tear trickle down their face. “L’Manburg was an inspiration to all of the server,” King Eret said. “It will be mourned for centuries.”

Bones, now a veteran of a fallen nation, stayed on the server. He found a piece of land, outside of the borders of the Greater SMP, and settled down there. He learned to farm from a family that lived within the Greater SMP’s territory, and purchased livestock and seeds so he could begin a new life.

The Veteran, with Rosa at his side, settled down for a quieter life. Maybe things would be better now, he supposed. Maybe here, in land that belonged to no one but himself, with no elections to worry about or wars to fight, Bones would be all right. Maybe now, finally, the server could begin to heal, to eventually rise up and fight against the tyranny of their Admin so that peace could finally reign.

(When the news came in on the communicators, then, that Dream had been captured and imprisoned within the maximum security cell of Pandora’s Vault, Bones joined the people in the street, cheering until his voice gave out and drinking until he passed out from happiness.

Then, he buried his face in Rosa’s fur and let out a genuine laugh for the first time in months.

Finally, finally, things could get better.)

[jorzuela]

2022 is the year we stop begging for friendship and chasing after people who don't really care all that much about maintaining a friendship.

Been debating about making a post about this or not but I thought my experience could help others.

In late June I decided to cut off, V, a person who until that point I had considered one of my closest friends. If you know anything about me, you'll know that my friends are my family and I love them deeply and I always considered myself soooo lucky for having such a strong bond with them all but I think I let things go unchecked for too long. Sometimes we really are trying to convince ourselves that things will be different, that something is just a rough patch on a much smoother road than it is.

The beginning of the end: She texted in our friends group chat inviting me and another friend to her house once again. For the past few years, we have only seen her at her home and she lives about an hour and a half by bus from us while she works in the city both me and this other friend live and also in the only one with a car.

In my usual crazy laughing audio messages I said something around the lines of "duuuude, why are you such a lazy ass, lol. Alright I'll come on Sunday but you know it takes us hours to get there and there's only so many buses there and the way back is even worse so a 5 hour visit turns into an entire day affair, let's meet up in some other place next time, ok? I love you enough to make this entire trip every time you decide to invite us xD, so what i'm asking is if you love me enough to come visit either at my house or if we can go for coffee downtown, what do you think?"

her reply was to call me delirious, to tell me I am absolutely mental and that she will not even dignify my audio by listening to it, that she doesn't care about what I have to say. She invited me over in good faith and if I don't wanna come then I shouldn't because she's not making me and she has other friends that can come over but she was giving me priority and she has better things to do than to listen to my bs. She said maybe it was not the right time to answer my message but she was going through something that she hadn't told us about so she didn't give 2 flying fucks about me or my "issues".

Now, this might seem "bad but not that bad" until I started thinking and that's what you never want because I have great memory, at least when it comes to things that have hurt me in the past. I remembered every single time I have tried to bring up from the smallest to the biggest issue with her to discuss it and it is never a good time, there's always something bad or more important happening in her life that makes me have to suck it up in hopes that she will eventually talk to me about it but after months she says that the topic is dead to her and she will not talk about it.

Some of the biggest instances include when I asked her if i could come over to her house for a few hours because I feared for my safety at home, she was home and had family over so she said she didn't feel like entertaining me, so I spent the entire day walking around downtown, crying and she texted me nonstop saying she was worried about me, but i guess not worried enough to let me sit in a corner of her house and be quiet for a while.

Another one was when she invited me to meet her new group of friends and we went dancing, she was mostly ignoring me and i was miserable so i drank a bit faster than the rest of the group, didn't fall or scream or do anything other than drink a bit more, nothing out of the ordinary and she dragged me away and screamed at me that I was embarrassing her, that she was ashamed of me and I was making everyone uncomfortable so I started crying and she was shocked. I returned to the group and tried to pretend that everything was fine, apologizing to one of the girls for making her uncomfortable and she didn't know what I was talking about, she said i was bothering anyone or doing anything wrong. I ended up leaving and crying all the way home. When I woke up hours later my V's father had passed so i had to do fuck all with this, obviously, since something else was going on and I comforted her. She never wanted to talk about this night and I'm fairly sure she doesn't even remember it anymore, but I do.

She has stood me up for my birthday after promising to come quite a few times, she has started treating me like shit every time she made new friends until they all circled out of her life, and she has acted like she was better than me in many ways over the years but she always came back around eventually.

We were friends since we were 18, so half of our lives at this point, and it has always been a rollercoaster of good and bad times. After this last argument, I remembered all the times I was so close to cutting her out of my life but she eventually returned with a big smile saying "hey guys, omg, haven't seen you in forever, come to my house, I'll cook for youuu. Omg I love you guys so much!" and because of all the history between us, all the years, the long studying nights, our long talks and adventures I always felt the pull to come back to her and see where things would go, and it's always good for a while.

My therapist said that years don't mean all that much if so much of it has been bad, so many instances when I felt hurt and humiliated and she didn't even care.

The conclusion of the affraid and her audios basically telling me to fuck off was that I said ok but I don't want a farewell party. This particular friend has always been one to have the friendship on display and make cheesy shit to post online rather than taking care of the friendship as it should be, like sappy friend's day posts when she had been standing me and our other friend up, etc. She was the most excited to plan a farewell party for me when I move continents, for show, ofc, and I knew in my heart that even after this she would make a bunch of posts and take pics, make the party etc, because omg my frieeend, my looove is moving away, how will I ever live, but she can't fucking come to see me or even listen to what I say. FUCK THAT SHIT.

If she would have told me "girl, you know I'm a lazy ass, let's see what we can do for next time," I would have been happy, but she had to dismiss me yet again. The bottom line is that she doesn't care, she doesn't do 50/50 friendships, she is not supportive and she doesn't want to talk about shit, not even problems she may have with me. I am not an easy person but in 18 years she has never complained to me about anything and I think we are OLD, we are adults, if you can't talk to me then there's nothing to keep going for.

An unexpected consequence of this friendship being over: Another friend (F) made a huge fuss about a guy she met on tinder for a week and hadn't even met irl having a girlfriend when she stalked hi on FB so I told her not to let that ruin her Christmas and she never replied back. She stopped talking to me because of that; she has stopped talking to me for years at a time for silly shit like this before. She didn't even read our messages and didn't answer when I texted her for her birthday but the moment this fight between me and V happened she went into the groupchat and read and heard all the audios. They have always ganged up in petty little fights against someone in my group friend over stupid things, once it was Esteban, another time if was Fer, who heard them talk shit about her btw, and they both hate Laura because I hold Laura in a higher place, she has been my friend the longest and we have hardly ever had any problems because we talk things out. I decided that I am not going to give either of them any more of my time or energy. F has been a much much better friend than V through the years but I'm just tired of this petty shit. I unfriended them in everything and left the group chat because I don't want them to stalk my social media and I know they would.

So out of this 4 person group chat I remain friends with only one, Bertita, one of the best people I know and I don't regret it. She has told me she went to see V and when she brought up the topic, Bertita told her to talk to me but V says she has nothing to talk to me about and called me immature.

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH2

<2> First Advance Notice

In the Sky Joker's living room, Hachi handed Joker an advance notice written on manila paper.

"W-What are we gonna do?" Hachi looked up at Joker with a worried gaze. Hachi, who wore an aqua-colored hood snugly over his head, was a descendant of ninjas. He had met Joker by chance when trying to steal a treasure and had pleaded with him to become his apprentice. He was now Joker's trusty right hand, and not only did he help with his work, he also handled all the household chores.

With Hachi's eyes on him, Joker read the old-fashioned notice.

I humbly inform you that I will be taking the Crimson Crystal you stole tonight. I will arrive post-haste. Be prepared for me.

—Phantom Thief Noir

"How'd this get here?"

"When I went outside to collect the laundry earlier, Hosshi found it stuck to one of the sheets."

"Hosshi!" exclaimed Hosshi next to Hachi.

Hoshi was a small, squishy, orb-shaped, cat-like creature that had been living with Joker and Hachi since they found him at a site of ruins. The shining yellow stars on his cheeks wobbled as he smiled and bounced cutely around Hachi.

"Hmmm..." Joker studied the advance notice. Locating the Sky Joker while it was in the air was a difficult task. After all, given his line of work, he couldn't let his hideout be discovered easily. This person had sent advance notice right to the Sky Joker, and also knew that Joker had just stolen the Crimson Crystal. This "Phantom Thief Noir" was no amateur...

"But I've never heard of anyone who calls themselves 'Phantom Thief Noir'."

"You're right, I haven't heard of them either. Joker-san, did you make an enemy somehow without realizing?"

"Excuse you. I'm upstanding and gentlemanly, nobody's got any ill will against me!"

"Since when! You said before that there are so many people who hate you that you can't keep track of them all." Hachi gave him a dubious look. Kaneari, whom he had just stolen from, wasn't the only one. Shadow and plenty of others were hounding Joker.

"We may not know who Noir is, but shouldn't we come up with some measures against them?"

"Measures? Naaah, too much work," said Joker as he threw himself onto the sofa.

"Joker-san?"

"Ahh, Shadow was there too, so I'm worn out. Hachi, can you make dinner early?"

"Are you sure you can be so lax about this?"

"I mean, there's nothing to do until this Noir guy gets here, yeah?"

"There's plenty that you could do! Like hiding the treasure, setting up some traps, formulating a plan... Kaneari-san does all sorts of things when he gets a notice from you, Joker-san!"

"But despite all that, has Kaneari ever once protected a treasure from me?"

"Eh... well, no, but..."

"See? Ultimately, getting treasure all depends on the skill of the would-be thief. Doesn't matter how much you set up in advance. It's a match where you have to read each other's minds," Joker said, before taking the Crimson Crystal out of his pocket and letting it catch the light. The crystal gleamed as it reflected the light from the ceiling. The globular surface of the crystal diffused and scattered the light like a prism. Joker was captivated by its beauty for a while.

"I get why he wants to steal this... but!" Joker sat up. "He's not getting it easily!"

"Hm, now that's the spirit," came a voice from the dining room suddenly.

"Eh!?" Joker and Hachi turned around in surprise to see a boy sitting on a chair in the dining room. The boy twisted open a glass bottle with a hiss and took a swig of the beverage inside.

"Spade!"

At Joker's exclamation, the boy called Spade turned to face him. "Hi, Joker. Happy to see me again?"

"I'm not happy! Where'd you come in from!?" Joker gnashed his teeth and glared.

Spade was, like Joker, a phantom thief. He wore a violet scarf and snowy white coat. His long azure hair cascaded over it, and a crest of golden hair shone over his forehead. He was a well-groomed, handsome youth.

"Settle down. This Riviera is exquisite when chilled, Dark Eye."

"Yes, Spade-sama." Standing beside Spade was Dark Eye, whose head was wrapped in bandages. They opened a bottle of the beverage as well. Dark Eye was Spade's assistant, who was female under the guise.

The Riviera which Spade was drinking is a popular drink all over the world, and both Joker and Spade loved it. As Joker said, it was the perfect drink to have after a difficult caper.

"But I must say, it's much more soothing at my own home. This place is always so raucous and dusty," Spade said, clearing his throat deliberately.

"If you're gonna complain, then leave!"

"I came here to ask you about Phantom Thief Noir."

"Wha-!?"

"Spade-san, do you know about Phantom Thief Noir?"

Joker and Hachi leaned forward and gaped at Spade.

"Did you get a notice too!?"

"Notice...?" Spade looked puzzled for a moment.

"You didn't receive an advance notice?" Hachi asked.

Spade answered jitteringly, putting the pieces together.

"Y-Yes, right! That was an advance notice. Will you show me the notice that arrived here?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Hachi handed Spade the notice, which Spade examined closely. "Hm... It's the same type of paper as the slip I received. This tells us a lot about this man calling himself Noir."

"It does?" Hachi asked, to which Spade responded ponderously.

"Hm... Noir seems to be much older. He's naturally left-handed, but has corrected himself to be right-handed. He lived in France at some point, and he likes popcorn..." Spade waved the notice and listed out each point.

"Kyo kyo. Impressive, Spade-sama," nodded Dark Eye with admiration.

"Don't make stuff up," Joker said wearily, but Hachi ignored him.

"How do you know that?"

"Simple. When this notice is held up to the light, you can see that it has a watermark written in French. This paper was produced by a maker in France. But that company went under over thirty years ago, so this paper is no longer on the market. Therefore, the fact that he was able to buy this proves he's up there in years. His letters angle upwards, which is a quirk commonly seen in corrected southpaws. And this oil mark has a residual smell of salt and butter, so it must be from popcorn. He must like it considerably if he has it around even when writing an advance notice." Spade rattled off his reasons.

Hachi was wholly amazed. Spade had gleaned so many traits of the sender from just a small piece of paper. "Huh! You're incredible, Spade-san! It's like you're a detective!"

Spade slipped down a little. "Ha ha, you could say that," he laughed. "Deductions aren't exclusive to detectives. Phantom thieves have to be able to deduce, too. Of course, Joker already knew all of this, yes?" he said, bringing Joker back in.

Caught off-guard, Joker went along with what he was saying. "Huh? Y-Y-Yeah, 'course I did! I figured that all out yesterday!"

"The advance notice hadn't arrived yet yesterday."

"Shush!"

Then Spade sighed. "Really now... why did Noir send advance notice to you, of all people?"

"Kyo kyo, it's a mystery..." Dark Eye's shoulders dropped, and so did Spade's.

"Shut up! What did you come here for, anyway!?"

"I just wanted to discuss this man called Phantom Thief Noir with you."

"I've got nothing to discuss with you. I bet you just had your treasure targeted by Noir and started second-guessing yourself, right?"

"S-Say what?"

"Ever since way back when, you've had trouble getting anything done on your own!"

"HUH? I came here out of the goodness of my heart. I knew that instead of speculating on Noir's identity or formulating a decent plan, you'd try to come up with something random on the spot!"

"Oh yeah!? Well that's my style!" Joker argued as he scowled at Spade.

"He's got a point there, Hosshi."

"Hosshi."

Hachi and Hosshi murmured to each other. But the pair weren't done bickering yet.

"Besides, I don't need a plan! A phantom thief's battle starts when he shows up, that's what makes it interesting!"

"And how much trouble do you think your lack of preparedness has caused me!?"

"When did I ever give you trouble!?"

"Plenty of times!"

"Then be specific! What year, month, day, hour, minute, and second!? What planet, country, region, prefecture, city, ward, block, address, and room number!?"

"That childish attitude of yours is the issue!"

"Shut up! If I'm childish, then so are you!"

"I'm more mature than you, at least!"

"Someone who's mature doesn't shout like that!"

"You're the one shouting so loud!"

"I'm what!?"

"Got a problem!?"

Their foreheads were pressed tightly together as they snarled at each other with vehement looks.

"Cut it out!"

"Kyo kyo, please stop!"

Once Hachi and Dark Eye intervened as usual, Joker and Spade finally pulled away from each other and simultaneously looked the other way with a "Hmph!"

"We're leaving, Dark Eye. It seems Joker has no need of my generosity," Spade beckoned to Dark Eye, and he started walking toward the door. Joker jeered from behind him.

"Yeah, go ahead and leave. I don't need your stinking 'generosity'. I don't trust you in the first place!"

"Likewise," he said, turning back around. Joker and Spade glared at each other once more.

"Don't come back!"

"Who would!"

Spade placed a hand on the exterior door. "It was quite a displeasure..." Spade said, and jumped out into the open. Dark Eye hurried after him.

"Bleh! That's what I wanna say!"

After watching Spade's airship, the Twin Thunder Shark, fly away, Hachi turned back around to Joker. Joker was grumbling and taking out his anger on a cushion. His temper was worse than usual this time...

"Joker-san, you went too far."

"Hmph! I went just far enough for him. The way he's always so patronizing and tries to tell me what to do pisses me off." Joker lay back down on the sofa.

Is that the truth? wondered Hachi. Maybe Spade had come to visit Joker because he was worried. The two of them may have been rivals, but they had once lived together under the same roof. Perhaps Spade had wanted to talk to Joker about Noir, as an old friend... If Spade had received an advance notice as well, he was definitely at least a little uneasy. And if he came to consult with Joker, who might have also received a notice, then...

Hachi remembered how Spade had looked a little desolate from behind when exiting. Joker had calmed down a little by now and was lying down with his back turned, sulking. Hachi sighed, when...

Suddenly, lightning flashed outside the window, and a loud tremor shook the Sky Joker...

[am-imagines]

Forever//Over. - Alex Morgan Imagine.

This was requested by an anon:  Maybe some really angsts long distance relationship but with a fluffy ending.

I took a different approach with this prompt than what you’d probably expect, but I hope it’s angsty and enjoyable enough. I ran away with it and the over 6k words prove it. If it’s as angsty as it can be, I don’t know. You must want to ask @worms-and-jan​ She knows my angst-meter better than myself. But hey! It has a fluffy ending! Kinda.

I hope y’all enjoy!

***

You never believed that loving too much could hurt like this. You never longed for someone until air escaped your grasp and you weren’t able to breathe. And yet, here you are.

The darkness consumes you like a thousand questions you can’t answer. The walls of your room almost collapse over you and you need to get out of there. It doesn’t matter where as long as you’re not there: in the place that reminds you so fervently of the person you’re trying to forget.

The salty air of the beach helps you calm down; you breathe in and out but that doesn’t stop the deep ache in your chest. The music blares through your headphones; loud and yet unable to drown the cruel, mocking voice of your doubts.

The sky is dark, full of stars in the quiet autumn evening. And perhaps you’re not completely alone with the night sky watching over you even if the moon is missing. Even if she’s missing. You really want to believe it’s better this way, but it still hurts like hell.

You’ve called and texted her perhaps a thousand times since she disappeared from your life. And that’s the thing you can’t understand. How can the same person that proclaimed her love just turn her back on you like that? She was gone without a word or warning. It makes no sense no matter how much you think about it.

One day you’re enjoying life, trading kisses and “I love you”s while the world kept spinning. The faint light from the tv was the perfect halo for her beauty. The next day she’s gone. Your worry is met with silence and only a trail of media posts let you know she’s safe.

For so long you’ve believed that love shouldn’t hurt, and if it does, then it’s time to move on. That’s your plan now; put a sea between you while you try to forget.

Except you’ve never been good at that. You don’t fall in love often, but when you do then it’s the all or nothing kinda love. Sure, you’re willing and accepting of letting go when love dies, when the timing is right and when a relationship becomes full of bullshit. But here, everything is different and you’re not quite sure how to let go.

Hence why you’re at the beach; trying to figure out how you messed up, where things went wrong for Alex Morgan to stop loving you so abruptly.

Maybe, just maybe, this isn’t your fault at all.

That, however, would make her a fucking asshole. And that’s a tag you’re not ready to pin on her just yet. After all, you love her too much.

Still, there’s a party you must attend in less than an hour. You have a chance to be with the National Team, say your goodbye for the near future. And you gotta put the last period on a love story she can’t give you.

Next week your life starts in Europe; you have a club, a place and a dream to chase.

Sadly, there’s a missing piece in the puzzle you envisioned as your future. But her prolonged silence is a hint that you must reconstruct yourself and find another version of yourself. All in all, it’s better to move on now. Sure, the pain is there but won’t last forever.

Making the decision to leave wasn’t easy. You’re grateful for the chance the Pride gave you, but with the U.S. Soccer’s approval, you’re ready for a new horizon. There are plenty of challenges overseas that will help you discover a renewed version of yourself.

There are many things you leave behind, but ultimately, there’s nothing for you to stay.

This party is a chance to see your found family until next camp a few months away. Granted, you’re going to miss them terribly, especially Ash and Ali. They’ve practically taken you under their wing in Orlando. In camp you gravitate more towards Tobin and Lindsey as if they were all siblings.

The entire National Team is your family in one way or another. And it helps that some of them have experienced life in other countries before. They know that even with all the hardships of moving to another country; every moment playing soccer there is worth it.

This is an opportunity for growth. Now it’s your chance to discover more about you as an athlete and a human being.

It takes you another moment to collect yourself, to stop panic from overtaking you as you stare into Orlando’s beach one last time. This is the right decision, it has to be. Because right now your only plan is finding your future in Europe, and plan B is pretty much dying by Ashlyn’s hands if you don’t make it to the Harris-Krieger household in time.

The walk back home is quite enjoyable; the evening is warm and you’ve made peace with this, even if you’re not willing to put the blame on Alex. Sometimes things are just not meant to be no matter how hard you try to make them work.

What really works is your outfit as you make it to the party about an hour later. The music is already going, alcohol flowing and twenty three other women are causing havoc already. It’s twenty three because of course she would be there. After all, Alex Morgan is part of the National team.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, her presence hurts way more than her absence. It cements the truth you refused to believe; it’s not like she’s too busy to leave you aside, she just doesn’t care. It was far easier to question the darkness of your room than daring to do so when her eyes land on you.

In that moment you want to run away; turn on your heels and escape from all the pain and disappointment. Realization hits hard and deep, it makes your lungs burn all over again and you practically choke on the words you can’t throw at her face.

But this night isn’t about her. She isn’t the only person that matters in the world, not tonight. If she doesn’t care, you’ll pretend not to care either. You can do it for a night. You can do it for forever. Fake it till you make it, right?

“Damn, girl!” Ashlyn calls as she pulls you into a hug. “Looking fine.”

“Watch it, Harris. You’re a married woman now.”

“Excuse you, happily married.”

You nod at her statement because it couldn’t be truer. You’ve never seen a couple look at each other like that. You hope to have what they do one day. Even if it’s not with the person you thought for months. A mistake on your part, perhaps. Maybe one of many.

No. You’re not going to think about her anymore. She’s not going to ruin this night. There’s plenty of girls to keep you company, to laugh with and enjoy your last hours in the country. There are a million stories you haven’t heard yet. Hundreds of dog pictures to be exchanged like trading cards. You enjoy a drink, laugh and dance until you’ve almost forgotten her.

Almost.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t ignore the weight of her gaze for long. Just as you can’t ignore the way she keeps avoiding you even when you’re confined to the same place. You never considered Ash and Ali’s place to be extremely big, and yet Alex is never in the same room you are for long.

The sadness and hurt turn into anger then, and you wonder why the fuck she can’t speak her mind once and for all? She’s a coward.

Still, you’re too tired to keep chasing her, and instead stick by Lindsey and Rose. At least until Ash pulls you into the kitchen with a lame excuse of refilling drinks. That didn’t seem to be a problem thirty seconds ago, but you follow anyway.

You know Ash and Ali maybe as much as they know you. It’s only normal for her to do something like this every so often, either there’s some sort of gossip or a new cocktail you have to try. It’s no big deal.

“Okay, spill. What the fuck is going on with you?”

“What?” You parrot back, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/n, I know you. So don’t start that bullshit with me. You’ve been holed up at your place not talking to anyone since the end of the season. And I know this because everyone has been texting me, concerned that you’re not in a good place. I don’t know what happened between you and Alex, but...”

“Nothing happened!” You finally snap. “Nothing happened.”

Repeating the words doesn’t make them true, and the look on your face is one of defeat. You know it. Ash knows it. And so does Ali when she joins you at the kitchen with a worried look. This is not how things were supposed to go, but now you can’t really backtrack.

“I’m leaving,” you blurt out suddenly.

Except that you make no move towards the door. There’s no way you can drive like this; not when your hands are shaking and your vision is blurred by tears.

“I’ll take you home,” Ali offers; a hand resting on your shoulder.

“No, I...” You hesitate under her gaze, under her touch. It’s now or never, and it’s too soon to say goodbye but you have to start somewhere. “I’m leaving the Pride. I had some offers to play overseas, and I accepted. It’s a chance to start over, you know?”

“I’m going to kill a bitch, or break her legs.”

You gotta laugh at Ash’s words as you wipe the corners of your eyes. Of course she would understand more than you’re actually saying. Ali, well, she looks at her wife frowning in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Break whose legs?”

“There’s only one person that would make her want to lea-”

“No,” you interrupt, “listen. This was my decision, my choice, and only mine.”

“Yeah, sure.”

There are only three people in the entire world you cannot fool no matter how hard you try: Ashlyn Harris, Ali Krieger and Megan Rapinoe.

You’re starting to believe is some sort of superpower from the Lesbian Gods.

For a moment you try to hold eye contact with Pinoe but in the end, the woman quirks an eyebrow and you give up. In all honesty, you never had a chance to win here.

Fuck you, Artemis.

“Okay,” you relent. “She had something to do with it but...”

“What happened?”

The look in their eyes tells you that if you don’t tell them, there won’t be mercy for Alex. And yet, if you talk, you’re not sure if it’ll make things better or worse. There’s no escape from this situation; you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Ash, Ali and Pinoe are the three women you trust the most in the world. You’ve bottled your emotions over the last weeks and it obviously isn’t helping.

You can try. You can pretend. But you still find it hard to breathe. You still feel the world crashing over you while you scramble to find some answer among the rubble. They’re offering support in the best way they can; worried more about you than anything else.

“I...”

But it’s still hard to find your voice and put everything into words. They’ve never been your forte. If you’re searching for a clean slate, then it’s best to leave this behind.

“It’s a long story.”

By the end of it, you’re unable to look at any of them, and stare at the floor instead. There’s a moment of charged silence while their anger grows. You’ve cried enough already; the tears won’t come anymore, but even then your pain is there for them to see.

“Son of a bitch!” Ash yells, banging the counter in anger.

She’s angry with herself for not seeing this earlier, for not reaching out. It isn’t her fault. No matter how good she is detecting your bullshit, you’re good keeping secrets. She can’t see right through you when you don’t let her be close enough.

You would’ve been better at hiding this if it didn’t tear you apart as much as it did. It’s far easier to pretend when your heart isn’t broken. It’s easier to conceal anger under calm, and mask emptiness with a smile.

You never loved so deeply. You never hurt so harshly. It’s just like they say: there’s a first time for everything.

“I’m really going to kill her.”

“No, no. Ali, please.”

You hold her hand, pulling her into a hug she answers by tightening her hold on you. Ash and Pinoe join the love pile not too long after although you can see the tension lingering on their shoulders. You know they’re angry, but you won’t let them act on impulse.

“I don’t want a confrontation, okay? I...it won’t solve anything. Not anymore. I came here to have a good time, not to spend the night talking about her.”

“You need another drink then,” Pinoe says breaking the group hug.

In a matter of seconds there’s a full glass in your hand. The weight pressing down your chest has eased enough for you to breathe normally, for you to smile as bright as ever.

Who needs Alex Morgan when you have this incredible group of women?

“For an epic last night?”

You raise your glass for a toast, but instead of joining your cheer, they glare daggers behind you. Looking back is unnecessary to know who is standing behind you.

“What do you mean last night?”

Thankfully, she’s not the one talking, and you turn to face Kelley instead.

“Europe is calling, baby!” You exclaim cheerfully.

Intentional or not, your voice is loud enough for not just Kelley to hear. Every other girl in the next room hears too. Suddenly, all of them try to make their way into the kitchen; asking as many questions as they can while you try to answer them all.

They’re like an excited pack of puppies, walking you to the living room where anyone left out can join too.

Even among a sea of soccer players, her gaze cuts through it all. She follows you like a distant shadow, but you make your best to ignore her.

She has no right to stop you now. She has no right to act hurt when this is the aftermath of her actions. Everything has a consequence, and if she thought you would wait forever without an explanation, she’s wrong.

“When are you leaving?”

Her words are quiet but you hear them thunderous. They zap you as if they were lightning, and your eyes snap up to meet hers. It’s hard to describe what you see there, then again, you don’t try too hard to understand.

“Next week.”

Just like that, you move onto the next question as if your mind wasn’t troubled.

You laugh with the others showing none of the struggle you’ve gone through. You don’t tell them about the sleepless nights where you wondered what to do next, which direction to follow. You don’t say a word about your phone’s unlit screen and the hundred unanswered texts.

Somehow, when your eyes meet Alex’s again, she has the decency to look ashamed. She knows. She knows and still didn’t give a damn.

“You’re staying, right?” Ali asks once the party starts winding down.

“Until you kick me out.”

The woman huffs in mock annoyance before pinching your cheeks. If that’s the price to pay for her friendship, you’ll take it with only a tiny bit of whining. After all, you have to put up some kind of resistance even if your smile betrays you.

Half an hour later everyone is ready to leave; including Pinoe. She fetches her jacket while they all wait for their Lyft, Uber or whatever service they called.

Megan looks at you and then at the only other person sitting on the other side of the living room. A silent question being asked here:

Are you going to be alright?

You nod, getting to your feet for one last hug.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper.

“Why’s that? Phones don’t work over there or what?”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Language,” she admonishes, earning her an eye roll. “Call me, text me and if it’s four am, I’ll respond once I actually wake up.”

“You are officially the worst. But I’ll do my best for you there.”

“Nah. You’ll do your best because that’s how you are. Take care, Y/n. Don’t make me go across the world to kick your butt. You know I will.”

“I promise nothing.”

With that, she’s gone and so are the rest of the girls with one exception. The one exception you don’t want to face. So, while Ash and Ali are getting the guest room ready, you decide to start the cleaning process.

Bypassing Alex, you make your way into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

The sound of her footsteps is quiet, and yet too loud in the overall silence of the house. You’re between shocked and unsurprised. You wondered if staying behind had anything to do with you, but didn’t want to get your expectations too high.

She hasn’t talked to you in months, what makes this night special?

“You’re leaving.”

Right. That. That’s the big revelation of the night, but doesn’t really make a difference.

“Yes.”

With the dishwasher running, your next step is to gather all the trash scattered around the place. At least that was the plan. Alex has other ideas as she stands in front of you, effectively blocking the door. Sure, you can make your way around the kitchen isle, but you’re not feeling up to play stupid games.

“Why?” She asks.

Isn’t that the same thing you’ve asked yourself endless times? It absolutely is.

The whole thing is so ridiculous that you almost laugh. Except it’s not really funny. In a moment all the hurt turns into burning anger. It boils and swells, rises like the tide when the moon illuminates the sky.

You look at her and don’t recognize the woman you loved not so long ago.

“Why what, Alex?”

There’s a fierceness in your own eyes that is so unlike you. Sure, you’ve been angry before, who hasn’t? But never like this, never to the point of quiet rage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You laugh then; an empty sharp sound that is far away from being happy. It’s the irony of it all, the nerve of Alexandra Morgan to sputter those words acting confused and hurt.

“I fucking tried!” You shout, and once you start everything else comes pouring out. “Or did you forget about the texts you never bothered to answer? Or the calls? I tried to reach you so many times, in so many ways, and you made it clear you didn’t want me around. And I just don’t understand...”

“Y/n-”

“No, I’m not done yet, “You cut her. ”You left me, Alex. The last words you said to me were “I love you” and then you were gone. You’re a liar, playing with my feelings when I gave you everything I could. You were the one that kissed me for the first time, the one that asked me out, for what? For the thrill of having a stupid girl you could toy with?”

“Of course not!”

“Then answer your own question. Why?”

Here you are, having a conversation you didn’t plan to have but wanted. No, it’s not really going as you envisioned. Mostly because you pictured yourself crying your heart out and begging her to come back. You deserve better than that.

“I...I’ve never felt the way I do for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, motion for her to continue cuz that’s not going to cut it. Not after weeks of going radio silent even when you let her know there was something important to talk about. Not after nights where you doubted your own worth.

“I got scared.”

You look at her in disbelief. That’s her reason; the only one, for running away without looking back. And somehow, you what, have to take it in stride? Hell, no.

“That’s bullshit.”

You’ve never been so in love either. And it’s scary; opening up and showing every flaw and vulnerability while expecting to still be enough. It’s bound to be scary, to be overwhelming at times where you can’t believe life and love truly feel like that.

That’s love for you, at least.

It fills your body, carves your bones until you feel weak at the knees. But you grow stronger until the weight of the world falls from your shoulders, until gravity doesn’t affect you anymore and you swear you can fly.

Love shapes the world, makes you find little hints and signs everywhere. The world reminds you so strongly of them that you wonder how you didn’t see it before. It makes you feel invincible, like your life has reached that perfect pinnacle of serendipity.

And that’s just the beginning.

Loving someone shouldn’t hurt. It’s supposed to be a celebration to life and the victories; big or small, found through the days. Sometimes that means a world cup. Sometimes it means buying a house. Sometimes it’s just being able to survive the hardship and exhaustion of a long day.

Love is the backbone of support, it lifts you up when you can’t stand on your own. It’s the quiet whisper in the back of your head reminding you to breathe when your head is underwater. It’s the knowledge that yes, life is not a utopia, and there are battles you gotta face on your own, but that you’re not alone nor lonely.

It’s supposed to be scary; terrifying even. But it’s also supposed to be filled with joy, and wonder. A mix of awe and euphoria that settle into calm. Because in love you can be yourself; the one version of you that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see.

And all of those emotions should make it worth it.

“Do you think I wasn’t scared too?” You finally ask. “I know there’s a lot on the line for you. I knew the terms and conditions of dating you since the beginning. I agreed to keep it a secret until you were ready. If you needed time to figure it out, to come to terms with who and what you are, I would’ve understood. Listen, even if you weren’t ready for a relationship at all, I would have understood. But not like this.”

“Please, Y/n. I’m trying to make things right.”

“Alex,” you say tiredly, rubbing your eyes in the process. “It’s too late. I’m leaving.”

“Don’t go.”

You can say the desperation in her eyes, can hear it in her voice. Still, that’s not enough.

She had a chance, more than one if you’re being honest, to make you stay.

Instead, she’s one of the reasons you’re leaving.

You deserve more than fear or reluctance. You deserve dreams that come true, to find true happiness. You deserve someone that will talk to you when things don’t go as planned; not shut you out completely. You want someone that looks at you with that happy light in their eyes instead of leaving you in the darkness of uncertainty.

“Why does it matter?” You ask with a hint of frustration. “You’re the one that left me! You walked away from us without a word! And I’m not going to be the girl you play with while deciding to pull your head out of your ass or leave it there. I deserve to be happy too. And right now that means being away from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

You feel a rush of everything; anger, sadness, frustration and perhaps a hint of relief as well. It’s hard to decide if you want to slap some sense into her or cross the distance between you just to feel her arms around your waist again.

In the end, you simply shake your head.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I wish there was a way to go back.”

“You can’t unbreak things. You can learn and do better.”

There’s nothing left to be said, not on your side. And for now, you don’t really care about what she has to say either.

You make your way upstairs to where Ash and Ali are waiting for you. It’s not hard to eavesdrop on an empty house, but they respect you enough to give you space. You’re not a kid; you know how to handle your own battles although the moral backup is always appreciated.

“You’re going to be okay?”

Ali looks deep into your eyes in concern, but her worry is met with a shy smile.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

For the first time in the last few weeks, you are able to breathe with nothing weighing on your chest. Closure is exactly what you needed. Facing her after the prolonged silence was perhaps one of the hardest things you had to do, but now the future seems a little brighter.

*****

Playing in one of the most competitive soccer leagues in the world is far from easy. Even the style seems different; play harder, faster and smarter. But you’ve done great, put your name up there among some of the best.

What some considered potential was polished into talent, although that had more to do with your discipline and hard work. Of course, the press wasn’t so kind as to enlighten that.

At the end of the season you have a championship and a new shining contract waiting for you. All it’s missing is your signature, but there are things to consider still. You miss home. You miss the crazy 23 women you call family.

Hopefully the upcoming USWNT camp will clear some of the doubts.

Maybe seeing them all again will give you the strength to extend your life in Europe. Maybe it’ll make you realize it’s time to go home.

There are many clubs interested in you which is not a surprise after everything you’ve done in a matter of months. Europe has catapulted you to another level, and it’s true there’s so much more to learn. Still, feeling homesick can be one hell of a bitch.

You could always move back to Orlando. Maybe you could move with Tobin in Portland. Tagging along Press with the Royals or go to Chicago for a change. The world is yours if you want it, and Heavens, you absolutely do.

“Why is something telling me you won’t come to stay?”

You glance at Pinoe on your screen while you finish packing. Sue and her are keeping you company as you get ready. Traveling always makes you anxious no matter if it’s just a couple of states over or halfway across the world.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Does this have to do with Morgan?”

“What!? No! I haven’t talked to her.”

“Maybe you should.”

You glare at your screen suspiciously because this is Pinoe of all people; telling you to talk to her. Megan Rapinoe; the woman that knows the ins and outs of your relationship and feelings for Alex. It doesn’t make sense unless something happened.

“Okay, fess up.”

“About what?”

The smug look on her face tells you that your mighty glare isn’t working.

Fuck you, Artemis. Again.

“Don’t worry, kid.” Sue intercedes with a gentle albeit playful smile. “You’ll get it soon enough.”

“Get what?”

They don’t answer your question and you don’t have much time to keep asking as they excuse themselves to end the call. Technically, it’s almost time for you to leave. However, their intentions are pretty clear. In the end, you groan in annoyance as they manage to dodge your question multiple times before the call disconnects. Alas, there’s nothing you can do.

It doesn’t take long until you’re on the airplane waiting to take off.

Your leg bounces nervously while you’re torn between looking out of the window or closing your eyes. It’s practically a miracle you decided to move so far, considering how much you hate flying. To be honest, the flight itself isn’t the problem.

Feeling the rumble of such a huge thing, it always makes you wonder how it can actually fly. You’ve seen documentaries and read articles but that fear comes every time you get into a plane. Besides turbulence, lift off is the worst part.

“You can hold my hand if you want.”

Your head snaps up towards the person standing next to you. Even now, after months since the last time you heard that voice. You would be able to recognize it from a million others. That doesn’t take away from the surprise of seeing her  there.

“What...” you start, trying to find your voice, “what are you doing here?”

“Taking a plane back home.”

“No, I mean-”

Her chuckle makes you realize she’s teasing. Partially, at least. She sits next to you, ready to go back to the USA. Which doesn’t really explain what she’s doing in the same country as you.

“Alex,” you try again, “why are you here?”

Your time away from her has been odd to say something.

You’ve missed her, she was your best friend even before things escalated into something else. She was the person you trusted the most before everything came tumbling down. And yet, over the last few months you’ve done your best to not think about her too much.

You limited your social media activity mostly to club related posts. Mostly accessed to catch up with some of your other friends, but being careful not to dwell on any of her posts. You scrolled past them in a hurry or got out of the app as soon as possible.

Unfollowing her would have been the smart choice, if you were someone else.

Being under the spotlight it’s great, but it also means everything you do is a clue for something. Unfollowing her would bring up more questions than you were, or still are, willing to answer. It was easier to pretend and move on.

“I got it out.”

Her words catch you by surprise and you shake your head trying to get back in the moment.

“What?”

It’s hard to make sense of any of it when she’s right there. Maybe it’s the shock of seeing her after so long. Maybe it’s hard to pay attention to her with the plane rapidly filling. It feels like you’re running out of time even when there’s nowhere else for you to be.

“You were right,” she says instead.

“Alex,” you warn, trying to get her to the point.

“I got my head out of my ass,” she finally answers with a half smile. However, her eyes remain serene, telling you she’s taking this seriously. “I was an idiot, and I’m sorry. Even then, when I discovered you were leaving, I could only think about myself. I can’t ask you to forgive me. We both know I don’t deserve it after everything I did to you. But you deserved an apology. That’s why I’m here.”

“You came all the way here for that?”

There’s more surprise in your voice than anything else. Sure, you appreciate the gesture but it seems a little overboard. Then again, you’re not sure of the result if she had called. Maybe you wouldn’t have picked the phone to begin with.

“I wanted you to know I mean it. I didn’t feel like words would be enough. Besides, I know how much you hate flying, so coming here just to go back, it’s worth it if it’s for you.”

Against all your common sense, you forgave her long ago. More for your own sake than hers, but all the anger and hurt are gone. The love you felt for her is not what it used to be, and neither is the trust. But in that moment, you’re glad she’s there.

Without saying a word, she offers you her hand.

This is something you’ve done several times, holding her hand during a flight, and you accept her offer just as the plane starts moving. If your grip is too tight, she doesn’t complain. She keeps her eyes on you; making sure you’re alright and damn those blue eyes.

“So, how did Pinoe know you were coming?”

“Did she tell you?”

“Not really,” you answer truthfully. “She said I should talk to you and that I would get it. You know her and Sue, they can be cryptic. Still, never expected to find you here.”

“Yeah, well...” She shies away from your gaze for a second but meets your eyes again. “Once you left I realized my mistake. I mean, I did before that. Guess it was easy to justify everything with fear. Then you weren’t there and the fear of losing you forever was bigger than the one of losing everything else.”

No, you’re not going to fall in love with her all over again. Not after you spent months getting over her. Even if she looks at you and you feel like she can see right into your soul.

“Alex, I can’t-”

“Hey,” she softly interrupts. “I’m not asking anything from you; I messed up. And like you said, I can’t unbreak things, I can only try to fix them.”

You can extend her an olive branch; a start. You’re not sure whether this is a good idea or not. It’s hard to tell where this is going to tell you. Still, you beg to the Lesbian Gods to guard your heart.

For now, you’re glad the 10+ hours journey back to America is not a lonely one.

*****

“Everything ready?”

You look over your shoulder to face some of your teammates.

You’ve decided to go for another year in Europe; extending your stay with the club you love while trying to win another chip and extra hardware.

“Almost.”

“I knew you wouldn’t stay,” Pinoe claims.

“But you sure wish I did.”

Her shrug confirms your suspicions because hell, you’re going to miss them too. It’s weird to be in a similar position as you were last year, and yet, everything feels different. You’re still at camp instead of sharing a wonderful evening at the Harris-Krieger household, but everyone that matters is there.

Last time it was a hundred percent your decision to leave although there were motivations besides soccer. This time your terms are different, you’re chasing a dream instead of running from a nightmare. You want to keep learning, growing and being the best you can be.

“You’ll come with me again?” You ask Alex teasingly.

“Not this time. But,” she pauses for dramatic effect. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

There’s some kind of promise there that you refuse to fully believe. It wouldn’t be the first time you get your hopes too high, or the one where you crash down in free fall with no parachute.

Camp has served you right, both of you. And maybe you stopped Ash from killing Alex when it was known you two would share a room, but things are...better.

“You can always visit.”

All eyes fall on you, trying to decide what is going on in your mind. To be honest? You’re not quite sure either. But you feel that pull towards Alex, daring you to allow her in.

You tell yourself this is a mistake. There’s absolutely nothing stopping her from doing something stupid, from leaving you hanging while you doubt yourself again. Everything could play out exactly like the last time, except something is different this time.

You’re not quite capable of explaining. You’re not gonna dive without testing the water either. So there’s another year overseas with some distance to keep your head clear. Whatever happens in that lapse, it’ll be the answer you need.

“Call me if you get homesick.”

“Except if it’s three am?” You ask with a sideways glance to Megan.

“Even if it’s three am,” Alex corrects. “Can’t promise I won’t fall asleep on you tho.”

“As if you didn’t do exactly that already.”

“Hey! At least I would pick up.”

“Fine. I’ll take it.”

There’s a small grin in your lips while you pack the last of your stuff.

You look at your friends and family one more time knowing they’ll be there when you come back. And looking at Alex you know there’s a chance home will be waiting for you.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

[heroprose]

aromatic;

a/n. forewarning for the usual vampiric shenanigans.

ship. hitoshi shinou x reader

summary. contemporary vampire au. (+ slight office au)

//

hitoshi shinsou despises you, you’re certain of this. 

what you’re not quite sure of is where all the animosity stemmed from, especially since he seemed to conduct himself well enough with everyone else. 

out of all your fellow colleagues, he treated you with the most transparent curtness, from promptly exiting whenever you entered the breakroom for a refreshment, to visibly retching the one time you tried to take an empty seat next to him during a conference (you’ll never forgive him for that slight).

it was really starting to grate on you. you were going to have to confront him about this yourself.

besides, you’ve no longer a choice in the matter: this unspoken tension had begun to affect the workplace, with people sometimes looking to and fro between you and him, confused to high hell why he always kept himself a good several meters away from you if he could-- not that you were complaining. social distancing can be quite mutually beneficial, after all.

and it wasn’t an issue you’d like to bring up with human resources either: that seemed a little too petty, even if he was literally gagging at your presence. 

you did try to ameliorate the work relationship-- really, you did. but there’s only so many times you can crack a joke and be left hanging in that awkward silence before you stop altogether. you once thought it’d been something you said in poor taste that made him abhor you so, but unless he had a seething hatred for mild puns, that didn’t seem right. 

and so what that you were a newer addition to the team-- you’d entertained the idea that maybe he had a thing against strangers, but hell, it’s been months and even interns get more conversation out of him than you.

although given his visceral reactions, you’re inclined to think it’s something about how you smell... but that’s just insane. you took your daily showers and used reasonable amounts of detergent in your laundry; and if you can take the pungency of axe body spray and the zestiness of dior’s sauvage on every man in the building, then he should be able to tolerate your own signature scent, which wasn’t even that bad... was it? 

no one else complained about it though. and you’ve even asked around too, so you know you’re not wearing absolute funk. it’s an unfathomable situation.

today, however, you forewent the perfume. if it really was the fragrance, then this should leave no opening. you’ve tucked the bottle in your workbag instead, in case you needed it like a piece of evidence for his rude behavior, ace attorney style.

you waited until lunch break, where most of the other colleagues would leave the building for nearby restaurants or go to the cafeteria, before approaching him. it was best this way, lest it got weird; at least only few people would witness it. 

hitoshi was currently invested in whatever it was on his computer, and if you were correct in his observations, he would pull out his own homemade meal shortly enough to eat at his desk. some days, he didn’t eat at all, which was surely unhealthy but you were hardly in the position to scold him considering your own bad habits. plus you didn’t want him to hate you even deeper. 

you got to observe this routine over a good number of weeks and it was truly no easy feat, with his desk set in the far corner of the workplace far from the wall-length windows and him being constantly out and about on his own assignments.

with your workbag in one hand, you walk up to him with as much nonchalance as you could muster. “hey! not going down to the cafe today?” it’s rhetorical: you knew he wasn’t.

he hardly responds, eyes flickering up at you briefly and giving a greeting nod before returning to his work. “mm.”

you round the corner of the desk so that you stand beside him. leaning down slightly to squint at the screen, you deliberately put yourself in his space. “oh wow, the deadline’s so far away but you’re already working on this part?”

he began to open his mouth, only to clap a hand over it with remarkable speed. and he coughs, goodness, with shoulders jumping.

“oh my god,” you can’t help but say as you withdraw. could he smell it even from your bag? you weren’t even sure if it was the perfume or just you anymore. “okay, i’ll cut to the chase. can we talk? alone?”

you’d think he would think it over, at the very least, to give a semblance of polite reflection. “no,” is his immediate reply, spoken forcefully, so forcefully that a lone passing colleague even gives you two a glance. 

“i was, uh, just leaving,” they say. “want anything?”

“i’m good, thanks,” you reply, bidding them farewell with a breezy smile before refocusing on hitoshi. he has already turned away from you, eyes blazing at the computer screen.

without another word, you reach over, placing a hand over his, and drag his mouse to click out of his report.

“what do you think you’re doing?” hitoshi demands, jerking away from your touch. and he’s angry now, genuinely irritated: you can see it in the way his jaw tightens. too bad you’ve been annoyed ever since you’ve been moved to this department.

“it was google docs, relax. your work is saved,” you soothe over. “now come with me. i just want to talk to you for five minutes, tops. please.”

he’s deeply conflicted for a heartbeat, but finally relents. “five minutes,” he echoes. you give him the space to stand up, clutching your workbag strap tightly in your fist. if he knew what this was about, he gave no mention as he walked openhanded behind you.

hastily, you lead him to the breakroom. with its doorless entrance, you assumed that the ventilation there would be moderately good, if it got too stuffy for him. then again, you wouldn’t of minded if he suffocated a bit either. admittedly, the entire floor was probably empty save for you two, so this dialogue could’ve been held out in the open but it didn’t hurt to have that extra layer of seclusion. 

“i already know,” you say into the quietude, leaning against the counter. behind you, the coffee machine beeped every so often. someone should get that fixed. you cross your arms and look at him carefully. the vents are tinny above you two, warm air rushing out noisily.

“you-- what?” his dark eyes widen ever so slightly, and for once, his expression isn’t quite so tense with you. “what do you know?” he must’ve not expected you to be so direct. he takes his hand out of his pocket.

“you know what i’m talking about. why you treat me like, i don’t know, the plague?”

“i don’t do that.”

“you nearly threw up when you saw me.”

hitoshi stays silent. ha, gotcha! “i only coughed,” he relents eventually.

“whatever. and i know it’s not me and that it’s really all you because guess what? no one else has this problem. and i’m thinking you don’t want me to air out your business to everyone else because that would be...” weird, for one, but you didn’t want to ruin your own case. “doesn’t matter; in any case, there’s no reason to be rude over this.”

“alright. so you know. i avoid you because of your scent.” his voice is dangerously calm. “what are you going to do about me, then?”

“about you?” you repeat with a scoff, “oh, so i should report you? what would i even say? HR would laugh at me.”

he smirks, chin jutting out. “right.”

“so now i only have one question. wait, make that two.”

“go on.”

“how should we fix this? because obviously i don’t want our little dance to start affecting our work ethic. you can’t wave me away forever. it’s how i smell, right? do you have a recommended detergent or deodorant, or something?” you ignore the fact that you’ve technically asked three questions.

“none of that covers it,” he mutters and your jaw drops. “masks don’t help either.”

“no way. i smell that b-- you know what... moving on. we’ve got to compromise somewhere though. but not my perfume.” your hands reflexively ball up. there’s no camera, so if you did something unsavory, there equally wouldn’t be any real witnesses...

“your perfume,” he repeats, seemingly dissatisfied. 

“yeah, no way. that’s my signature scent. go wear nose plugs or something, if it’s that bad. and i can’t believe you say scent and not body odor, like just call it what it is! damn.” 

the coffee machine lets out its intermittent beeps. hitoshi just stares at you, mystified. then, he breaks into a snort, like he’s the one who can’t believe he’s having this discussion. “i understand. in that case, i see no solution.” whilst bringing a hand to the back of his neck, he starts to move, intent on passing you to exit the room.

you let out a frustrated noise. “you leave me no choice, hitoshi.”

intending on presently the bottle to him proudly, perhaps even spritzing him once for good measure, you jam your hand into your workbag to fish your perfume out. you grab onto the rectangular shaped glass, and pull it out with great gusto.

and it goes terribly. 

to your horror, the bottle slips like butter between your fingers and sails, tumbling down to the floor right in front of you with a heartrending crash, glass splintering like ice. the beautiful blue lid goes spinning across the tiles, and like that, the whole room now blooms a gorgeous citrus, white floral scent. “oh nooooooo! shit!”

no longer minding him, you go to pick up the shards, bending down at the knees with a sigh. gingerly, you begin to clean up.

“hey, be careful. i’ll get a dustpan,” you hear him say and it’s one of the nicest things he’s ever said to you, but in your melancholy, you shake your head solemnly.

“no, no, i’ve got this. i’m just so-- OWW?” you wail without warning. you drop the wet shard you were grasping, still slick with liquid. “ugh, never mind. get the dustpan.” you bring yourself up on your feet again.

using your shoe, you kick the shards into a more cohesive, but wet pile. the clattering of the glass causes you some emotional pain. “terrific,” you mutter, watching blood bead up at across two of your fingertips. “well, at least i won’t be wearing that anymore. right, hitoshi?” you ask sarcastically. shaking your hand to rid it of perfume residue, you end up just flecking your blood droplets all over the floor. you glance up when you’re met with silence. “hitoshi?”

“nnngh...” a low, deep groan escapes his throat, and immediately he turns his cheek and takes several stumbling steps away. he grits his teeth, the vein in his neck growing more prominent like it’s physically paining him to pull apart from you. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...”

“you okay?” you close in on him. it felt almost backwards to ask such a query, seeing as you were the one bleeding. “maybe you should sit d--”

“get away from me,” he all but spits out, eyes squeezed shut. “you set this up, huh? figures.” stray hairs were falling into his face as he presses a hand against his temple and bit back another groan. “i was doing just fine before... so why... nngh.”

you purse your lips. “hey! what do you have against dolce & gabbana’s light blue eau de toilette? it’s a perfectly respectable, fresh, work-friendly fragrance! it was, at least!” you wanted to shout. but that didn’t happen, as your concern and confusion won over your sense of petulance. “set what up?” you ask, bewildered.

on closer inspection, he was not, in fact, okay at all. 

for a second, you thought he was having an allergic reaction. that would certainly explain his avoidance of your body, and perhaps why even a deep black had replaced the cool purple in his irises when his eyes snap open to glare. his pupils were blown out despite the bright tube lighting overhead, and his mouth parts wide.

yet an allergy did not explain everything. as opposed to weak, however, hitoshi suddenly looked frightening. 

because, instead, what came out of your mouth was a strangled, “uh, what the-- are those fangs?” 

and indeed they were, confirmed as they descended upon your skin before you  could even blink. at the very least, he had the decency to pant out a small but distinctively unapologetic “sorry” before his lips pressed around your bleeding fingers, tongue hot against the stinging cuts. 

you hope fervently your coworkers take their leisure at lunch.

[creamypudding]

Woeful WIP Wednesday

This story is from way back October 2018. It’s AkuRoku, so far is only 1 chapter, and is a role reversal. Axel is the goody two-shoes and Roxas has had a very hard life and has the literal scars to prove it.

I’ve always thought I’d get back to this story when I have time. When I finish my other WIPs. It’s kinda near and dear to my heart and I have so much angst and pain to explore in this story. There are also so many funny and tender things to be explored in this story. I will finish it one day. I will. Just... I need the headspace and I need to finish other stories first.

You can have the first chapter

Rated E Word Count - 3786 NSFW. Oral sex If you enjoy this, or any of the other WIP’s it would be great if you would let me know. Cheers.

Sharehouse

It had been an exhausting day because there had been a lot to do since he was aiming to leave early. He managed it, made it home to the sharehouse he was living at with its soon-to-be six occupants, grabbed his pre-packed duffle bag from his room, and with car keys still held firm in his hand, he flew out the door again in under 10 minutes. But he couldn't get out without the sound of Sora screaming, “Have a most epic birthday, Lea!”

Lea was glad that Sora hadn’t invited himself along like he had tried to do the previous two years. In the past, it always had been Riku to calm Sora’s overzealous enthusiasm, for which Lea had always been grateful for. The fact that Sora didn’t try to jump Lea this time around could be squarely laid blame to the fact that Sora had finally gotten with Riku, his not so secret mad-man-crush, about a month previously. It had meant that Sora hadn’t paid Lea much heed, which Lea was ecstatic about. As long as Sora continued to do his rostered on duties in a timely fashion and left Lea alone all was well.

Lea shook his head as he started up his old, blue, beat up Chevy and pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street, adamant that he would focus on having an epic and carefree evening.

The first stop this evening was the hotel room he had booked for himself in the next town over. There he pulled everything out of his duffle bag and spent an hour perfecting his look. He wore head-to-toe leather – slipping on a black sleeveless button-down leather shirt, stuffing himself into low-rise skin-tight black leather pants – with a jockstrap on underneath for comfort – threading a thick belt around his waist, clamping on a chunky collar with studs around his neck and slightly slimmer ones on each wrist, and putting on knee-high black boots with platform heels to give himself even more height. He then painted his nails black, drew on an upside-down purple tear drop under each eye – making sure they were smudge and sweat-proof – stuck on a temporary skull-and-cross tattoo on his left pectoral muscle and a full sleeve with various gothic motifs on each arm, applied mascara to make his deep green eyes pop, and dark lipstick to make his lips appear bigger – and lastly he shaped his fire-engine red hair from its usual casual up-do into wild spikes.

Once his look was completed he felt snazzy and nothing was going to hold him back from having an amazing time on his twenty-sixth birthday.

He headed out, head held high and looked for a bar to get his drink of liquid courage in before he really got started. He found one not too far from the hotel – a classy looking joint with a wine cellar appeal. He sipped and enjoyed his easy-on-the-vodka strawberry lemonade vodka while he played Animal Crossing on his phone. By the end of his drink, he was delightfully buzzed, smiling like a fool and swaggering off to club Destiny down the road, a bustling hub of great beats with a slight flare of 80’s nostalgia – given the fluoro color scheme and checked floor design.

It was a place he would never be caught dead in if it wasn’t his once-a-year indulgence. It was a good thing because no-one that he knew would be here either, so he could really let loose and not worry. The low-light helped disguise him even more and the alcohol coursing through his body took his reservations away. Or it would, as soon as he got more of the good stuff into himself.

He made straight for the bar, nodding his head along to the beat, tapping his fingers to the rhythm against his thigh and then the bar top when he reached it and while he drank some of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. He felt his mood elevate even further. His hips swayed more, his head bobbed along with greater accentuation.

He turned his back to the bar, leaning against it with his elbow while he looked out into the bopping crowd. The music was pumping, and the strobe lights were shifting everything into a different plane of existence and the excitement and thrill grew in Lea. He felt the itch to get amongst it all to let the music take him away.

He was about to push off and go as he finished the last of his drink but through the noise he heard a shout of, “Hey, can I buy you a drink?” 

Lea looked to his side to see a short guy with blond hair, cut and styled into a faded fohawk, addressing him. The guy was smiling up at Lea in such a lovely way that it really juxtaposed with all the tattoos covering the guy's scalp, neck, and hips. And that was just his exposed skin. He also wore a black mesh tank-top, which didn’t quite reach all the way down to the top of the snug fitting black skinny jeans he was wearing. Lea could see that the skin under the shirt was covered in tattoos as well – both arms and torso. Lea stared a little. He had never seen someone so covered before. He wondered if they were all real, or fake like his own.

The blond hopped up on a bar stool, getting himself more on eye-level with Lea, who was still leaning against the bar. The guy bent towards Lea, which made him aware of baby blue eyes and a fruity musk he thought he liked a lot. 

“Dude, can I buy you a drink?” The question came again. Lea snapped out of his mesmerized trance. This guy looked so cool. He nodded.

The tattooed guy waved his hand at the barkeeper who walked over “We'll have a red-headed slut and a suck, bang, and blow, thanks,” the guy said, looking directly at Lea, smirking.

“Comin’ right up.”

Lea just stared and swallowed.

The blond guy leaned closer to Lea, his elbow pushing against Lea's arm which was resting on the bar top. “What’s a guy like you doing here all by your lonesome?”

Lea didn't understand what the insinuation was. He just said, “It’s my special night.”

“Oh? What’s special about it? It can’t just be meeting me, right?” the guy’s voice was low and alluring as he waggled his eyebrows and leaned a fraction closer.

The fruity and aromatic scent of the blond was a lot stronger now. Lea definitely liked it and took a deep whiff. “It’s my birthday.”

“Mm, really? And you're celebrating by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

A big grin spread across the other man's face.

“Here you go.” The bartender put the drinks in front of the blond guy.

“Keep the change,” the blond guy said, not glancing away from Lea while he slapped a bill on the wooden counter. “Which one d’ya want? The red-headed slut, or the suck, bang, and blow?”

Lea’s throat felt like a desert and he leaned a little more against the bar to support himself as his knees felt like they might give out any second. “The…” he glanced at the drinks before them. They both looked really good, but he couldn’t bring himself to say… “The suck, bang, and blow,” he croaked. The smirk on the blond’s face grew. “Of course, you’d want that.” “Oh, d-do you want it? I can have the – other one.” The man chuckled slowly. “I wouldn’t mind a suck, bang, and blow, but right now I’m more into having a red-headed slut.” He licked his lips, raised his eyebrows and slid Lea’s drink to him before picking up his own. 

Was this guy for real? Was he… talking about the drinks or…. Lea’s heart was racing. This guy was so thrilling and magnetic. “Thanks for the drink,” he got out as he picked up the glass.

They clinked their drinks together and the blond downed his shot. Lea’s drink was in a cocktail glass, but he tried to drink it as fast as he could, while blue eyes sparkled at him.

“Greedy, aren’t you. You like a good suck, bang, and blow, don’t you,” the blond hummed as Lead just about finished the drink.

Lea choked and coughed and put the glass back down.

“You liked it, huh,” came the smug observation.

Lea could feel himself going red. His heart was being unmanageable but he liked it too. He liked this guy in all his crude form. He nodded. “Yeah. That was really good!” It had been sweet and sour. A little tart and spicey too. “Amazing.” He looked down at his glass, wishing he could have savored it more.

The blond grinned from ear to ear. “Glad you liked it, legs. There’s more where that came from.” Lea didn’t find it in himself to be upset about being called that. “Oh no, I really can’t drink anymore.” 

The blond chuckled and put his hand on Lea’s. “I don’t mean the drink. C’mon. Let’s dance.”

Lea let himself be pulled away and led onto the dancefloor. This is what he had come for. The fact that he was now attached to a total badass who made him sweat under his collar was such a treat.

The alcohol in his veins loosened Lea up and melted his guard against public ridicule. He gave himself over to the beat of the music and danced like no one was watching, while the blond with a wild smile rubbed against Lea and danced with him. Lea didn't focus on anyone or anything else other than the man before himself and the frenzied way in which he was grinding against Lea’s thigh, and how blunted fingernails slid down the fabric of his shirt and pants as they rocked against each other in a rhythm vaguely resembling the actual music being played. Their hands traveled all over each other. Lea stroked strong arms and his palm crazed against a nipple piercing he hadn’t noticed before.

A wily smirk was given to Lea and brows waggled again with a silky allure. Lea watched as the man before him stepped aside a little and began moving around Lea’s body, the blond’s hand trailing around Lea as he circled. Lea kept dancing and letting the tingle of those fingertips against his chest, sides, shoulders, backside, and groin set his nerves on fire.

The blond guy was behind him, pressing himself against Lea while his hands were running all over the front of Lea’s body. Lea slowed their pace. He began guiding the other man’s hands over his body, under his shirt, and down his pants – but not too far down. Just enough to tease himself and the guy behind him. Lea felt the other man’s face pushing kisses to his back and nuzzling into his sides as their dancing and groping continued. The nicest flutters went through Lea’s body.

Fingertips left Lea’s groin and he felt the other man’s presence suddenly descend down the back of Lea’s body. Hands went between Lea’s legs, making him spread himself open with a big step to the side. Lea looked down to see the blond’s head suddenly emerge from between his legs. The man smiled up at him, his palms traveled up Lea’s thighs as be pushed through his legs and crept up the length of Lea’s body very slowly. The blond’s face was right next to Lea’s crotch, causing Lea to cease all his swaying as he watched blue eyes gazing at him while the man’s open mouth slid over the bulge of Lea’s leaving-nothing-to-your-imagination pants. Lea gasped and panted as slow movements exerted pressure over his erection. Hands were gripping Lea’s hips tightly but continuing to move and slide up his body. The other man’s tongue came out and licked at where Lea’s head was pressed against his lower abdomen and then that ridiculously sexy mouth closed with a smirk and the man stood to his full height and reached up behind Lea’s neck.

Lea instinctively wrapped his arms around the other man, lifting him up. Strong legs spread and raised, hooking themselves on Lea’s hips and pushed the blond up. Not a word was said between them as they began kissing as if possessed. Lea’s mind was completely foggy. All he knew was that he wanted this man against him, on him, in him. A hand went into Lea’s hair, grabbing the back of his head and pulled him painfully out of the deep frenzied kiss. 

“Washroom,” the blond uttered and then attacked Lea’s neck with his teeth and firm sucks, particularly around the collar.

Lea felt heady with pleasure and so obeyed the command. He quickly looked around, behind able to see over the tops of most the people dancing around them, and spotted where the washrooms were located. His legs took a bit of coaxing to get moving but he carried himself and this sexy blond bombshell over to the amenities. He didn’t know what the guy had in mind, but Lea appreciated the idea of a little more privacy in a quieter environment so they could maybe talk and kiss a little more.

Lea turned his back to the door and pushed it open. It swung shut again and muffled the sound of the beat, but it still reverberated around the room, making the wall mounted mirrors in the dimly lit space vibrate. There were several urinals and a few stalls, one of which was occupied and Lea could see two pairs of legs underneath the door space. He swallowed and stood around, not knowing what he was supposed to do now. The wet sucks on his neck stopped and vibrant azure eyes stared him right in the face.

Lea stared back as the whiter light of the washroom painted his blond companion in a clearer light. His hair was a warm blond, the untattooed patches of his skin a creamy pale color. His lips looked bruised but that was from Lea’s lipstick rubbing off on the blond. Lea leaned in and kissed the blond, sucking in air through his nose sharply and getting another intoxicating dose of that fragrance which Lea so enjoyed. The intrusive tongue and sharp nips got Lea moving again. He shuffled towards the washbasins, stopped by the hand towel receptacle, pulling some out and then went to the benchtop and began wiping while the blond kept nipping and sucking on Lea’s neck.

The blond did stop however and looked behind himself, back at Lea and gave him a confused glare. “What’re you doing?”

“Drying the bench. I don't want your ass to get all wet.”

Lips quirked. “You sure 'bout that? You making my ass wet sounds kinda perfect.”

Lea choked on his own spit. 

The blond laughed, stretched up a little patting Lea’s back and breathed against Lea’s ear, “No? You sure you don’t wanna make my ass all wet? Don’t you wanna watch it drip out of me, down my balls, and thighs? Wouldn’t you wanna lick. Me. Out?” He nipped at Lea’s earlobe.

Lea let out a shaky breath, his wiping motion forgotten as both his hands were on the blond. He slid the shorter man onto the bench and stood between his legs.

The blond chuckled, leaned in and started kissing Lea’s lips, cheek, neck and along Lea’s collarbone. He stopped and looked up at the man. “You're cute, y’know – if a bit shy. C'mere legs.” The blond grabbed at the back of Lea's head and pulled him into a searing kiss with forceful sucks before releasing him. The blond then schooded forward a bit, Lea stepped back, and the other man slid off the bench and knelt onto the ground before Lea, tugging at his belts and pants.

Lea stared, speechless, aroused, overcome with heat and need. His fly was being pulled down, warm fingers fumbled and then Lea’s building erection was free.

“Mm. I see that cock of yours is proportional to you, Legs. Gonna hafta work hard to get all of you down.” The blond licks his lips and shoves Le into his mouth.

A strangled moan hitches in Lea’s throat. There is warmth and pressure and that hard bump of the tongue ring that’s massaging his slit. Lea huffs and tries not to push into the other man’s mouth. He leans his hands against the bench before him, keeping himself steady on it and tries to catch his breath. He looks around himself – their location – the cold tiles. Is the man below him okay? “Get up.” Lea pulls his hips away and his erection out of that hot mouth.

“Why?” A confused blue stare is shot upwards.

“Your knees.”

The blond chuckled. “I'm fine,” and tried to pull Lea back to himself.

Lea resisted. “No. Here—” Lea pulls the blond up, turns them around so he is where the blond was just standing and then Le slides himself up onto the bench. “This will be better for you.”

“Okay, that works too.” The blond chickled, brushes at his hair and then spreads Lea’s legs apart, sidling in and went back to work sucking on Lea’s cock.

Lea gives in to the feelings stirring in his gut and focuses on little else but that. He grabs for the blonds hair, ruffling it as the man bobs up and down. Moans and gasps escape Lea’s mouth. He feels the other man hum with pleasure against his cock, feels that tongue ring rubbing against him and slightly into him, sending tingling chills down his back. Lea lifts his face up to the ceiling as the ecstasy rises within. Fingers grip his hips, the blond between his legs is sucking harder and Lea cums with a small cry and a tightening of his grip in the blonds hair.

The sucking eases up. There comes one very hard and final suck of Lea’s head and then the blond is looking up at Lea, wiping his mouth and smiling brightly.

“That was… so good—so amazing,” Lea pants, breathless and high. 

A sultry chuckle leaves the other man. “Glad you liked my suck, bang, and blow.” He winked. “I knew red-headed sluts were my favorite—I like your load, by the way. Tastes really sweet. You ever tasted yourself?”

Lea’s breath catches. “N-no.”

“Then, here. Lemme introduce you to your tang.” The blond reached up, roughly pulled Lea’s head down and smothered him with a kiss. The blond forced his tongue into Lea, which made Lea whimper. He could taste saltiness but rather than be put off by it he was turned on – despite his blissed out afterglow state.

A few deep sucks later they pulled apart. Lea is smiling from ear to ear, in a really mellow way. He feels so high. He really likes this guy. His rough edges are exciting and Lea wants more.

“My name's L—” 

The blond clapped his hand in front of Lea's mouth. “What're you doing, numbnuts?” the man almost snaps and holds Lea’s attention with a sobering hard stare.

Lea pulls the hand away from his mouth. “Telling you my name?”

A repulsed look crosses the other man’s face. “I just sucked you off. I don’t need or want your name. You’re a hot piece of cock and we won't see each other again, so zip it, Legs.”

That message came like a slap in the face to Lea. It crushes something inside himself… a hope… “Oh. Okay. Do you – w-want me to…”

The blond steps out form between Lea’s legs, wiping his mouth again like he is disgusted. “You’re being a boner killer. I’m out.”

With that Lea stared after his wet dream. He was only roused out of his shock by the washroom door opening. Suddenly realizing what state he was in Axel slipped off the bench, tucked himself in, zipped himself up and stood embarrassed by the washbasin, washing his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror, straightening out his clothes and brushing his hair into place.

His orgasm still pulsed through his body ever so faintly. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. The night was still young but… after that spectacular time… maybe he was done.

He wandered back out into the club, looking around to see if he could spy the blond anywhere. After a while of having no such luck he left to go to his hotel room, where he soaked in the tub and scrubbed off all evidence of his wild night out.

----------------------------

Lea arrived home in the late afternoon, dressed in his normal, everyday clothes. He walked into the house and was about to head up the stairs to his room when Sora’s voice rang out, “Lea! Lea! C'mere.”

Sora, full of energy, came bounding up to Lea, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the lounge as he chatted a mile a minute, “How was your birthday? Did you have an amazing time?” They went down the hall and turned right through the archway to the comfortable living room where two old, brown lounges stood around a central entertainment unit with television, consoles, and speakers. “I want to introduce you to my cousin, Roxas! Roxas, this is Lea. Remember how I told you he works at an animal shelter?”

Sora halted them beside the lounge. Everyone else was standing and sitting around; Riku, Kairi, Demyx, Naminé and— 

Sora was still talking but Lea didn't hear him. Before him, sitting on the lounge was blond mesh-top sex bomb, albeit dressed less provocatively in baggy, dark blue shorts, long sleeved white hoodie with black and white checkered sleeves, and matching sneakers. 

“R-Roxas?” Axel got out in shock.

The corner of the blond's lip cocked up in a sneer. “Lea,” seeped out of that talented mouth in a dry drawl.

“Oh? You two met already?” Sora quizzes.

“Y—”

“No,” Roxas cut through and glared sheer death at Lea. “I’m gonna unpack. Call me when dinner’s ready.” Roxas stood and shoved right past Lea on his way out of the living room and into the hallway to go upstairs to his room.

Lea stared after the small spunky package also known as… Roxas. “That’s your cousin?” “Yeah. I don’t know why he’s being so pissy. He was fine a minute ago—I’ll help him unpack.” Sora dashed off after his cousin. 

Lea stared after him, dazed and confused. That had been… that was definitely suck, bang, and blow guy. Lea had to live with him now? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.