#his knowledge does not stop in ponytails. he can do much more than that

[nobodys-saviour]

caleb 100% knows how to tie MC's hair. he's well versed and have practice. pigtails, two to four strand braids, buns, he KNOWS them for sure .

[chirpsythismorning]

Willel Twins Crumbs Because Why Not

Subtitles for the news report stop at this point for this scene, so I will provide them:

Can you remember your favorite stuffed toy from childhood?

And how heartbroken you were when it left your life?

Then you’ll relate to the story, of a girl named *unintelligible*

So right from the jump, directly after the opening credits, we are being bombarded with shots of keys and Hopper showing off his blue bracelet and his watch. We know the bracelet was actually a ponytail that belonged to his daughter Sarah, however I think the importance of this scene runs a lot deeper.

It might not seem important, but the dialogue in the background also connects to not only Sarah, but to Will and El too.

As we know, Sarah had a stuffed Tiger on her bedside at the hospital during treatment for her cancer (also featuring the blue ponytail on Hopper's wrist).

As it turns out, Will and El also had a stuffed toy that was referenced in this same season, though they both had stuffed lions, in contrast to Sarah's stuffed tiger.

While it is understood by the majority at this time that these parallels exist only to jog Hopper's memory of his own daughters death, to give some more depth and impact to these moments, it still doesn't answer the question as to why these 3 kids all have the same stuffed toy to begin with? And apparently enough importance for them to drop an easter egg in the first 10 minutes of the show?

In the context of El for example, she has the stuffed lion because it was essentially the only meaningful toy in her possession while in the lab. Sure, she played with toys in the rainbow room and colored with crayons, but those were all things they were tasked to do to test out and improve the kids' powers. The lion in contrast, was simply there to operate as something more personal, tied to her innocence and a life she could have had outside of the lab. And yet at the same time, this being the only thing El had in the lab, gives its importance a tie to the lab itself, which is why I am so wary about this whole thing.

In the context of Will on the other hand, we don't really know much other than that it was shown a lot more than El and Sarahs' combined.

Will's lion and the prominence of it in s1, more than anything else, is what makes me think the meaning behind these parallels is so much more than how we currently understand it. Because while we assume right now he has no ties to the lab, the fact that this stuffed toy has ties to the lab for El and Sarah, begs to question why there was a need to focus on it so much in Will's case, when he was never in the lab pre-s1 (or was he?)...

Which then brings us to Sarah, where you might think her case has no ties to the lab, but it does!

Sarah received treatment for her cancer at Hawkins Lab. This is something so many people either overlook and don't know about, or forget and just brush off as being insignificant, which I just cannot fathom.

It would be one thing if this was common knowledge in canon and actually spoken about, with Hopper talking about how it's not his first time here, and yet they don't make any effort to establish that. All we got is this stairwell shot of Hopper mourning Sarah's death, in the same stairwell at Hawkins Lab, which we see not only referenced in s1, but also s2 and s4.

Yeah... Owens knows exactly who that is. Let's not forget he's the one who, in another universe (Aliens) signed a document back in 79' that led the death of a lot of people...

So... what's the deal? Why has there been such an effort to put in easter eggs to allude to something unanswered related to Hopper's memories of Sarah, often triggered by instances regarding Will and El, who have almost identical stuffed animals to his daughter's, all tying them to the lab to some extent, and without that being touched on at all by the writers outside of the show?

Well, probably because there's still one season left and this plays a big part in the key to everything...

[thelunarbar]

So Few Come And Don’t Go

:Patience series part four:

In which: they receive their second placement and hard conversations are had.

Word count: 3506(it’s a long one)

TW: illusions to abuse. I can’t think of any others but if you see any let me know and I’ll be sure to tag them.

A/N: this came out way longer than expected. Also I feel like I’m lying to y’all bc I said this wasn’t gonna be super angsty and legit every part has been angsty. I don’t know where all the angst came from, but the story refuses to get as fluffy as I wanted it to. And the other parts I’ve got planned are also pretty angsty. Sorry. As always no beta we die like goose. And a fun fact for y’all I almost always misspell naval as navel which are in fact two very different things.

-/-/-/-

Ice is sitting at the table, hands folded, phone laying before him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly since the call. The second his eyes meet Mav’s he deflates. Ice doesn’t know what Mav sees in his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to like it.

“Are you ok? You look like you might pass out.” Mav drops his keys on the table and steps around so he can place both hands on Ice’s cheeks. Ice grabs one of them and squeezes gently.

“They have another placement for us.” Ice finally tells him.

“Oh.”

“Her name’s Natasha. She’s fifteen and pregnant. No one will take her in. Not since she found out she was pregnant.”

“We will.” Mav says, voice firm. His heart breaks at the knowledge that no one wants to help this poor girl. Ice smiles at him.

“We will.” Ice agrees. “She’ll be here by dinner.”

“We need to go shopping!” Mav’s eyes light up and Ice gets that puddly feeling he’s come to associate with loving Mav. Mav tugs him from his chair, grabs his keys and pulls him toward the door.

“I love you.” Ice says. Mav stops to turn and look at him, study his face.

“I love you too.”

-/-/-/-

Mav goes a little crazy with the shopping, but Ice has no plans to stop him. They buy things for Natasha and a few things for her baby with plans of buying more.

The bedroom is still decorated from when they were expecting Josie so they take some time to adjust it for an older girl. The picture books and easy readers are carefully placed in boxes and shoved into the hall closet for a later date. They fill the shelves instead with some classics and a few of the current popular books for kids Natasha’s age as well Mav’s old record player and bin of vinyl.

They also purchased a selection of toiletries for her and a duffel bag, which was something that only occurred to them after Bob showed up with the saddest excuse of duffel bag either of them had ever seen.

Mav wishes he could do more to customize to Natasha’s likes, but that will have to wait until they get to know her.

At ten to five Ice starts prepping dinner, just a casserole and rolls, nothing fancy, but it’s still a homecooked meal.

Natasha and her social worker show up at five thirty. Natasha is carrying a black trash bag, holding it like she’s afraid they’ll take it from her. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that does nothing to hide how matted it is. Her clothes are dirty, full of small holes and threadbare around the edges and her shirt is small enough that it does nothing to hide her small baby bump. She refuses to make eye contact with either of them.

Her social worker, Mira, smiles apologetically as she encourages Natasha to walk inside.

“Natasha these are the Kazanskys.” Mira says, resting her hand on Natasha’s shoulder. Mav doesn’t miss the way Natasha flinches at the contact.

“You can call me Tom.” Ice smiles and starts to offer her his hand, but stops when she doesn’t do more than glance up.

“I’m Pete.” Mav introduces himself. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “Why don’t I show you where you’ll be sleeping?” Mav suggests, smiling at her even though she has yet to look at him. She nods though and follows him up the stairs.

-/-/-/-

“Thank you so much for taking her in on such short notice. No one will take her now for fear she’ll be a bad influence in their kids and none of the in between houses have any space available.” Mira says, there are dark circles under her eyes.

“Of course.” Ice says giving her a smile. Mira starts rifling through the bag hanging off her arm. She pulls out a manila folder and offers it to him.

“That should have all the information you need, including all the info for her doctor.” Ice nods, flipping it open and scanning the first page.

“Thank you.” He tells her. She smiles, tired and sad.

“Mm. My number is in there. Feel free to call any time if you questions or . . . anything. I’ll check in in a few days.” With another tired smile she leaves.

-/-/-/-

Upstairs Natasha stands in the doorway to her bedroom, taking in all the details.

“Are-are you sure?” She asks, voice soft and tinged with fear. Mav understands and smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way.

“Absolutely. We’ll take you clothes shopping at some point in the next couple days. And there’s a gift for you on the desk.” He nods at the large pastel gift bag covered in zoo animals and emblazoned with the words Oh Baby! Hesitantly Natasha steps into the room, trash bag still clutched in her hand. She shuffles over to the desk and carefully peers down into the gift bag. She gasps and let’s her bag drop to the floor beside her. She begins examining things from the bag, mostly neutral colored baby clothes, but there’s also a package of diapers, a soft yellow blanket and couple packages of gender neutral pacifiers.

“Wh-why?” She asks, turning to Mav, blanket held to her chest.

“Well, we figured you probably didn’t have anything for your baby, so we thought we’d at least help you get a start.” Her eyes are glassy with tears and Mav wants so badly to pull her into a hug, but he won’t initiate physical contact until she does.

“You-you didn’t have to do this.” She says, glancing back at the gift bag, guilt is written across her features and Mav hates it. “And you don’t need to take me clothes shopping.”

“We want to.” He promises. “We’re here to take care of you.” She holds the blanket a little tighter, “and that means helping you take care of your baby too.”

-/-/-/-

Natasha wants so desperately to believe him, but she’s not foolish enough to actually do it. A large part of her refuses to believe it isn’t some trick, that they won’t take it back later. It wouldn’t be the first time a foster family had done that to her.

She’ll hide it all later, when he leaves. It’s all she has for her baby and she needs it. It may very well be all she ever has and she can’t afford to have it taken away.

Pete shows her where the bathroom is and the linen closet and tells her she can take a shower before dinner if she wants. The idea of a shower does sound nice. She’s not sure when she had one last. Pete even offers her a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He tells her to put her dirty clothes outside the door and he’ll wash them for her.

She takes a short, tepid, shower (afraid she’ll get in trouble for using hot water without permission) and gets dressed in the soft blue t-shirt that’s several sizes too big and slips off one shoulder, and the grey sweats that actually fit pretty well all things considered. There’s a comb on the counter and she hesitates for a minute before deciding there’s no way they could find out if she uses it so long as she cleans her hair out of it, and sets about trying to detangle her hair. When the comb’s teeth snap as she’s tugging at a particularly large knot she wants to cry. She collects up the broken teeth and the comb and leaves the bathroom.

In the hall she bumps into a small boy with dark hair and glasses. They stare at each other in silence, sizing each other up. He glances down at the broken comb clutched in her hand. She moves her hand behind her back and walks past him.

She knows from experience that punishment is likely to be less severe if she comes clean immediately. And if she comes clean herself before the boy says something.

She finds Pete and Tom in the kitchen. Tom is mixing a collection of things in a casserole pan and Pete is sitting on the counter, swinging his legs a little and and eating shredded cheese straight from the bag.

“Hey!” Pete smiles at her, “get the shower figured out? It can be kind of temperamental.” She nods and then holds out the broken comb. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t meet his eyes. “Oh. Don’t worry about. We have more. They’re pretty cheap.” Pete looks at Tom. “We really should by a couple nicer combs. And a hairbrush.” Tom hums in agreement and throws the spoon he’d been using into the sink.

“You’re-you’re not mad?” She asks, so soft they barely catch it.

“Of course not. It’s a comb.” Tom says.

“But I used it without permission and then I broke it.” She says, finally making eye contact with Pete. Pete slides off the counter and steps closer to her, but still stays arms length away.

“I know how other people have reacted in situations like this, but I promise we will never be those people.” The sincerity in his eyes makes Natasha choke up. She blames it on her pregnancy. Stupid hormones.

-/-/-/-

Dinner is an unassuming affair for the most part. Natasha doesn’t move to fill her own plate and Mav doubts she will so he serves her and fills her glass. She looks afraid to touch it, like she thinks it’s all a trick.

“You should eat that while it’s still warm.” He tells her. She glances at him and then at her food before picking up her fork. After the first bite she shovels the food in faster than Mav or Ice would’ve expected. When her plate is clean she stares at the casserole dish longingly.

“Would you like more?” Ice asks, moving to grab the serving spoon. She nods hesitantly and slides her plate closer to him. While she resumes eating like it’ll be her last meal Ice turns worried eyes on Mav. Mav just mouths later.

Ice and Mav try to make conversation with her, but when it becomes clear she doesn’t want to talk they move to talking about school with Bob.

After dinner is consumed and the dishes clean Ice settles in his overstuffed brown leather rocker/recliner and Mav drops into his lap. Mav picks up their battered copy of East of Eden and starts to read. Bob sits on one end of the couch and begins working a beginner model plane. Natasha sits on the other end of the couch, arms wrapped around herself and listens until she eventually falls asleep.

Ice gingerly carries her up to bed and tucks her while Mav gets Bob settled then the two of them meet in their bedroom.

-/-/-/-

Mav wakes around two am. A nightmare this time, and he pads downstairs to make himself a cup of tea.

He’s sitting at the table, hands wrapped around his mug, waiting for his tea to steep when Natasha rounds the corner. She stops, eyes wide, looking very much akin to a deer in the headlights.

“I-I just wanted a glass of water.” She says.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. D’you want some hot chocolate?” She looks uncertain, but nods after several seconds. Mav smiles and stands to make her a cup of hot chocolate. And Mav makes real hot chocolate. None of that prepackaged crap that barely tastes like chocolate.

He places the mug on the table across from his own before sitting down. She joins him, placing her glass of water beside her mug. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Mav decides to break the ice.

“My dad died when I was seven.” He starts. She looks up at him, confusion written across her features, “And my mom died less than a year later. I spent the next eight and a half years bouncing around foster homes until I landed with the Bradshaws. I lived with them until I joined the Navy. They were so good to me. Better than any other foster family I had. It was the first time that the word family actually meant something to me.” He’s getting sentimental as he gets older. Just mentioning the Bradshaws makes him get misty eyed. Memories of Nick flood his mind. He sips his tea and watches as Natasha tentatively lifted her mug a took a sip, eyes going wide as she tips the mug a little more. She licks her lips and gazes down into the mug. “Tom and I want to be those people for kids like you and Bob. Whether you’re here for a week or a year. We want to be a family you remember fondly. I know how often foster families are unkind and downright mean. We want to take care of you, Natasha. While you’re staying with us we want to love you like you’re our daughter.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just keeps her gaze on her mug. She sniffs and wipes her nose on the back of her hand.

“I promise,” Mav says, holding her gaze so she can see how serious he is, “while you’re in our care no one is going to hurt you. And if anyone tries Ice and I will kick their asses for you.”

“Ice?” She asks. Not what Mav was expecting. He smiles.

“Short for Iceman. It’s his callsign.” When she still looks confused he continues. “We’re naval aviators.” She nods slowly before taking another long drink of her hot chocolate. “And whenever you need someone to listen or a shoulder to cry on I’m always here. And so is Ice. He doesn’t understand quite the way I do, but he’ll listen and try his best to help.”

-/-/-/-

“Can I make a phonecall?” She asks the next morning. Ice has just left to take Bob to school so it’s only her and Mav.

“Of course.” He hands her the landline. She watches him as she walks toward the living room and when he doesn’t stop her disappears down the hall. When she comes back it’s obvious she’s been crying and she proceeds to spend the rest of the day in her room.

-/-/-/-

The next morning she sleeps in which Mav thinks will probably do her some good. He has errands to run, but Ice has taken Bob to school and Mav doesn’t want to leave her alone without telling her.

He putters. Does some housework, writes out a grocery list and a list for the hardware store. The phone rings and if he’s honest he doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but certainly not the automated female voice on the other end,

“Will you accept a collect call from Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility?”

Curiosity gets the better of him and he accepts.

“Nat? Sweetheart?” It’s a man voice, an older man if Mav’s guess is correct, “I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, Natasha can’t come to the phone right now.” He replies.

“The fuck are you?” The man asks.

“I’m her foster father.” The man hums, but doesn’t say anything. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Nat’s father. Just tell her I’m sorry. And I’d really like to talk to her again.” There’s a click and the line goes dead. Mav’s head is reeling. How the hell did Natasha’s dad get their home phone number? As soon as the question forms the rational side of his brain reminds him that she made a call the day before. The second question he has remains unanswered, what did her dad do that wind up in prison? Mav hates mysteries.

-/-/-/-

It takes her about a week to settle into their routine. She still doesn’t really speak unless it’s absolutely unavoidable, but she’s willing to make eye contact with Mav and that’s a good first step.

And then after dinner Friday night things get . . . interesting. Bradley shows up for the first time since Ice kicked him out. Ice is the one to answer the door and he almost doesn’t let Bradley in the house. But Mav grabs his arm gently and tells him it’s ok. Ice narrows his eyes at Bradley, but nods and let’s him in. Mav can’t help but roll his eyes at Ice’s antics.

“Give us a minute?” Mav asks. Ice looks ready to protest, but a stern look from Mav has him heading up the stairs. It’s clear Bradley has been drinking, he’s swaying and his eyes are a bit glassy.

“Mav, I-shit. Don’t even know what to say.” Bradley has the decency to look embarrassed. “‘M sorry. For all the shit I said to you the last time was here. Was uncalled for and I-you didn’t deserve that. You always try to do what’s best and sometimes you fuck up, but you try and that’s gotta matter more, right?” His speech is a little slurred, but Mav is fairly certain he isn’t actually drunk, just tipsy. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been trying to get my shit together and I think I’ve had some sense knocked into me,” he grimaces and Mav has a sneaking suspicion he’s talking about his conversation with Ice, “‘m still kinda pissed you pulled my papers, but I think I understand more why you did it and ‘m trying really hard to move past it. ‘M sorry I pushed you away and I-I’ve missed you Mav. I can’t stand feeling like this anymore. I hate who’ve been while holding this grudge against you and I can’t-I don’t-”

Mav pulls him into a hug, holding him as tight as he can. Bradley begins to cry and Mav has to blink back tears of his own.

“God, I’ve missed you too, kid.” Mav tells him, one hand pressed the back his head, the other rubbing circles on his back.

They end up on the couch, talking, apologizing, crying(not that they’d ever admit it) and finding the foundation to rebuild their relationship.

It’s late by the time they’re conversation turns to more mundane and boring topics and Bradley is starting to yawn consistently. Mav invites him to stay the night and goes to find a pillow and some blankets. It doesn’t even occur to him that he’d head up what used be the guest room, until he hears Natasha scream, followed Bradley yelping and a door slamming.

Mav runs up the stairs, well, walks as fast as he can. Bradley is staring at Natasha’s door while rubbing his chest. There’s a large hard back book on the floor at his feet.

“Sorry, rooms are all taken. You’re gonna have to bunk on the couch.” Mav shoves the pillow and blankets into his hands.

“The fuck’s goin’ on out here?” Ice asks, voice heavy with sleep, hair flattened on one side.

“Nothing, baby, go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.” Ice stares at him, eyes narrows for several seconds before turning and shuffling back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Mav sends Bradley back downstairs and then knocks gently on Natasha’s door.

“Natasha?” He says, just loud enough he knows she can hear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he’d come up here.” The door opens a crack and she peers out at him, terrified eyes looking up at him.

“Who was that?” She asks softly, voice trembling. Mav feels awful that Bradley scared her so bad.

“Bradley. My godson. He’s spending the night. He’s not used the guest rooms being occupied. He didn’t know you were in there.” Mav tells her. “Did you throw a book at him?” He asks, picking up the copy of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

“Didn’t know who it was.” She glances down and can’t be certain because of how dim the hallway is, but he thinks she’s blushing. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that. You have every right to defend yourself against strange men coming into your space. And he won’t hold it against you. In fact I promise he’s gonna feel really awful about this in the morning.” Mav smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way. “If you feel unsafe you can always lock the door if you want.” She nods. “Are you ok?”

“Mmhm. Gonna go back to bed now.”

“Sure. Night, Tasha.” She nods and meets his eyes for a second before closing the door. Baby steps.

Mav runs back down to check on Bradley and is unsurprised to find him conked out on the couch, snoring like a freight train. Mav smiles and shakes his head before flicking off the living room light and going to bed himself.

His life certainly isn’t boring, even if he is retired. In fact it’s probably good he is retired. If he was dealing with the excitement of being active duty as well as taking care of all the kids he’s pretty sure he’d have an aneurysm. He misses flying, but for this? For his kids? Totally worth it.

-/-/-/-

Taglist! Lmk if you’d liked to be added for future updates.

@pollyna

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hii!! Thought I'd stop by and drop a request! This one's for Joe and Cherry from SK8 (separately): They both were high school skateboarding rivals with reader who is a sporty and tomboyish girl but later develop a crush on her.

Unfortunately, they haven't spoken to her in years after she left to study in a prestigious college recommended to her by her strict dad (fyi her parents are divorced, she does not get along with her dad, her mother still lives in Okinawa giving them updates about her).

Years go by and they hear of a small yet popular bakery that recently opened that sells a bunch of tasty goods and so, hungry and curious, they decided to pay a visit. As soon as they walk in, who do they see amongst all the yummy treats? The reader. Now a beautiful woman, even with her hair in a messy ponytail. The boy(s) decided to ask to speak with her and she's surprised (but happy) to see them after all these years.

Kojiro

Kojiro sighed as he covered his eyes from the blaring son. Figures the one day he decided to walk and not board it would be a scorcher. Squinting his eyes, he checked the address again. Only a few more blocks. He could make it.

He’d heard of this new pastry chef in town that was making some big waves in the community. Not usually one for flash (except with himself of course) he had ignored it until he tasted one of their treats from a pop-up downtown. It had been delicious! A true marvel of culinary arts. No, no, not that. Alchemy. Kojiro decided he had to meet them and see if they would be willing to collab on a menu for his restaurant. His desserts always fair, but weakest area of cooking.

Turning the corner, he came to the end of a narrow alley that listed the name & number of the business but little else. ‘No wonder they’re doing pop-ups’ He thought. This place wasn’t big enough to house more than a dozen customers at a time, and completely non-descript. Kojiro kind of liked it though. It added to the mystique, and he wanted this partnership even more.

“Hello.” He called out as he let himself into the, hopefully, open shop. “Anyone here?”

“Be right there!” A voice called from the back. A woman’s voice.

‘Good.’ Kojiro thought as he posted up by the counter bar. A woman would be much easier to deal with. He’d put on his charm and a devilish smile, and he’d get his way in no time. ‘Maybe even get her’ He added lecherously. ‘But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’

“Sorry about that. What can I get started for you?”

“Well actually I was….” His voice trailed off as he came face to face with a ghost. “…[Y/N]?”

“Hey! Kojiro! I thought that was you.” She replied. Beaming at him like old times and coming up to the counter. “I’d recognize that green mop anywhere.”

“What are you doing here?” He was still in so much shock that he couldn’t get past basic questions.

“You mean, why am I not in America in some fancy high-story law firm?” That was the last he had heard of her. That was the last that any of them had heard from her after high school. That she was going to go off to some fancy school, then law school, and make it big as a lawyer in some major firm like in all the movies. To his knowledge, and updates from her mother, she had. So, what was she doing here? “After everything that happened the last few years, I realized that I wasn’t very happy. I did what I was supposed to, but not anything I wanted. Plus after mom got sick it kind of put everything in perspective. So, when things opened back up, I moved back here and opened this place up.”

“This is your shop?” Kojiro asked. Looking around with a fresh set of eyes.

[Y/N] giggled. “Yeah. Putting that law degree to good use hn? But if I ever get sued for food poisoning or someone burning themselves with a hot coffee, I’m covered.”

Kojiro scoffed as she went over to the espresso machine to make them some coffees. “I guess. You seem to be doing well. I actually came here to sweet talk the owner into doing a collab menu with me at my restaurant.”

“You really opened that then? I thought mom was joking.” [Y/N] teased as she set the milk to steam, then came over a few minutes later with two cups. “Seriously Joe, I’m happy for you.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up hearing his nickname from her. She gave it to him. ‘Joe’. She gave them all their names back when they used to all be so close and were stupid enough to think that’s how it would always be.

“So you want to collab on something?”

Kojiro looked up from his coffee and memories. Startled back to adulthood at the reminder of work. “Oh…yeah. I thought we could work out a pre-fix menu for the season crowd coming up. My dinner, your desserts. Maybe even a sweet/savory board thing?”

“That sounds great!” [Y/N] agreed. “Why don’t I come over this week and I can try your food, and then work out a menu. I usually do French classic, but Italian desserts are a pretty easy spin off. We’d make a great team!”

“Yeah. We would.” His tone was a little wistful. Then he pulled out his phone to ask for her number so he could text her. “I’m closed on Thursdays. So come over then and I’ll make you something special.”

“Just the two of us?” She asked, with a hint of a smirk, getting his attention. “How scandalous.”

Kojiro blushed. Probably for the first time in 10 years. “Just be there!” He clipped. But then smiled and thanked her for the coffee before he had to leave. He couldn’t stay there all day reminiscing, even if he wanted to, with his own restaurant to get ready for the dinner rush.

KaoruHe thought the gorilla was lying when he told him. Some cruel joke. Or wishful thinking in that big dumb head of his.

Kaoru been shocked beyond reason when he invited [Y/N]’s mother over for tea and she told him that yes, she was back in Okinawa for good. He felt a little jilted that she hadn’t told him before; making him regret all the times he had invited her over for tea in the past. At least he knew now, he supposed.

Heading down to the small shop, he let himself in and found [Y/N] cleaning off the counter in an apron. The smell of fresh bread & coffee in the air. This surreal feeling of walking into a dream, rather than a small café run by an old friend.

“I wondered when you’d show.” [Y/N] said, not seeming surprised he was there.

“Your mother mentioned that we spoke?”

“No,” she said as she flipped the dust rag onto her shoulder. “You know her policy on gossip. But since Kojiro was here, I guessed it was only a matter of time before he told you.”

“You should have told me.” Kaoru hissed in irritation.

Who could she not tell him she was back? Sure they had grown apart when she went abroad for school, and then work, but he thought they were still close. With her back, it changed everything. And he was angry she didn’t feel the same.

“I figured you were busy. What with being a big shot calligrapher now and all. Who would have guessed?” [Y/N] mused as she poured a cup of green tea and sat it on the counter. A peace offering.

Kaoru scrunched his lips, but walked across the café to the counter. Taking the cup. “I had to get a job eventually. Calligraphy just sort of worked out.”

“The things we do for our parents, ney?”

He looked up from his teacup. Watching [Y/N] wax nostalgically. His parents were never happy with his alternative lifestyle in high school. Pressuring him to be a more suitable young man they could be proud of; like her father pushing her into law. After high school he decided he had to grow up and be an adult. Plus with Adam and [Y/N] leaving, being ‘edgy’ just wasn’t as much fun anymore. So he became the suitable young man his parents always dreamed of, and they weren’t around to even enjoy it.

“I take it your working with the gorilla on some secret menu promotion?”

“Hehe, yes,” [Y/N] confirmed with a giggle. “He wants to do a collaboration. His food. My desserts. Should be fun.”

“When is it?” Kaoru asked nonchalantly as he sipped his tea.

“Why? You want to come?”

“Tsk. Hardly.” He rebuttaled. “I detest crowds. And I’m at Sia often, so I’d like to know the dates to avoid such commotion.”

“Awww. You think we’re gonna draw crowds?” Kaoru balked and blushed a little at [Y/N] turning the tables on him. “But, if you don’t like crowds. We’re picking the menu next Thursday. Why don’t you come by? We could use another taster. That way you can try the menu and help decide what’s on it. It’ll be like old times!”

“Old times hn?” It was Kaoru’s turn to wax nostalgically. If only for a moment. He quickly cleared his throat and sat his empty teacup down. “I’ll have to see if my schedule allows. I’m very busy.”

“Of course.” [Y/N] said in that know-it-all sort of way he just remembered he hated. “Well, if you can. Kojiro said to come over at 5:00. Again, if you can.”

Kaoru grunted, but made a mental note of the time (and to show up at 5:10 as to not seem eager). He thanked [Y/N] for the tea, and told them he was happy to see her. She smiled and said she was happy to see him too, and to come back anytime.

He made another mental note to come back in two weeks. As to not seem eager.

[glitchinginhyperfixis]

Sending u genderfluid mike hcs (a lot are platonic madwheeler bc I care them):

The first person she comes out to is surprisingly Max. Her reasoning for this is “You already hate me so this will probably hurt less” and Max is just like “I never hated you, you big dummy” and they have a Moment

(I also hc them giving the other gender envy and that’s why they clashed sm at first)

Gender presentation is always weird for him bc yk,, the 80s™️ BUT. Loves finding little ways to make himself feel more like Mike and not like boy mike yk? Like he lets erica paint his nails one day with clear polish and wears less polos etc etc

One of these ways is going to Max’s bc home girl knows how to do hair okay. She learned to braid for El when her hair was getting longer and kept practicing on Lucas before the breakup so she is experienced. Anyways Mikes favorite is when he had two braids on the side that tie into a little ponytail. It makes him feel like he has a crown lol

Has scream cried during clothes shopping w her mom and pretends like nothing happened. When she eventually comes out to Karen they have a long talk that ends in Karen cradling Mike and promising for things to change

Lucas and Dustin were so supportive when they came out!!! Like when initially told they were so chill and like “that’s wassup” but in the leading weeks they were going above and beyond to make mike feel more comfortable. At the end of the week Lucas threw a coming out party and made a little sign, Dustin and Erica made a cake!!

Speaking of Erica her and Mike will literally be in the isle of a fight but still doing sleepover activities. Like one time Lucas came downstairs to see them going back and forth while making friendship bracelets (not necessarily genderfluid mike but they mean sm 2 me)

While doing Mikes hair he and Max will exchange music taste and Max will give him California Knowledge (wink wink gay ppl)

Bc she’s trying to express herself more or whatever, Mike ends up dressing like if Eddie was in love with collared shirts and Max will call her a poser all the fucking time

Joins drama in sophomore year because it makes them feel so much more comfortable, playing a character on stage is more fun than playing one every day yk

1. yes. i love the idea that max would be the first one mike would come out to. it honestly makes a lot of sense. and i would love a sweet moment like that. (and that gender envy hc!! YES)

2. YESSS. i’ve never thought much about it, but i kind of want mike and erica to bond. erica would roast him but in a... nice way? and i’ve seen a lot of hc’s about nail polish, but this one makes the most sense realistically, since i don’t think mike would reach the stage of being able to wear other colors for a while.

3. the braiding hc!!!! ily. mike in braids is just a great concept on its own, but you also added max into it, and i love that.

4. yes. just yes. i imagine karen saying something about mike being her son, and mike just breaking down and telling her that she’s not. at least, not always.

5. they would. i can imagine dustin and lucas asking questions so they could make mike more comfortable, but never prying too much. they just want to know how to mike feel safe in their own skin.

6. you. you have converted me. i’m now a mike and erica are best friends truther. and they have zero content. i’m screwed. (but seriously, i love this. this friendship is so cute).

7. yes.

8. these hc’s are incredible.

9. ok. stop right there. you’re making me sad now.

10. adding onto this, i’d love mike coming out to nancy and being surprised when she’s supportive. she’s a little confused and does mess up sometimes, but she tries her best to be there for mike. and that surprises them because they haven’t felt close to nancy in a really long time. what mike doesn’t know is that her assuming nancy was going to be angry at her was the wake-up call nancy needed to start being a big sister again.

[lisynearchives]

BITE//BULLET early canon, citrine, 921 words previous | next

The next day, Citrine uses his patrol time to search for them. More reasons why he’s a bad cop, he supposes.

He has no excuse. Theoretically, he should report this to a higher-up; a skilled fighter threatening people with a gun is definitely a case that should be escalated. But somehow he can’t bring himself to. He knows what’ll happen next. The gunman will be dragged in for questioning and shown little mercy - especially if they keep up their attitude. Citrine doesn’t care that they fought him. They just want to know who they were threatening, what kind of mess they’re wrapped up in, and above all, who they are. Then you’re not a very good cop, are you, they’d said. It could have easily been a wisecrack and nothing else, but it’d struck deep. They’d said out loud what Citrine had been wondering for weeks. He isn’t a very good cop. And neither are his colleagues. And if he really wants to enact justice, he has to break out of what he’s been doing.

He’s never really cared about enforcing the law, but he does care about fairness. He does care about the countless people living the way his birth family did: his mother jailed for petty crime, spat back out, no place willing to hire someone with a criminal record. As a child, he’d always thought the three of them would have been fine if she’d just obeyed the law. As an adult, he can see the law isn’t anything so benevolent.

He wants to leave the force.

The thought pops into his head unbidden. It appears with such vitriol he almost marches into work to hand in his badge, but he stops himself. As much as he hates to think about it, he still needs to pay rent. He still needs to eat and wash himself and commute, and all of it costs money. Just being alive comes at a price.

Citrine takes in a breath. He can bide his time. He can find this mysterious gunman first, sate the strange need to know, then figure out how to leave. Call it one last hurrah. But how does he even begin to find the gunman? He doesn’t know anything about them besides the way they’d fought. He can’t imagine it’s common knowledge. Their hair colour had been memorable, at least - a bright red streaked with yellow. At the very least that would be a start.

There are a handful of businesses on Citrine’s patrol route; it is NAEON, after all. Not that he’s actually...friends with any of the people on his route. Citrine operates on a strictly no small talk rule, which earns him a world of convenience, but total backfire on connections.

Still, at least a handful of people recognize him, and some might be willing to answer a few questions. There have to be subtler ways of doing this, but again - no connections. And asking a coworker might as well be leaving a marked trail to the gunman.

A bell jingles when Citrine steps into the first business, a little cafe-slash-bakery. The guy at the counter lookks up and freezes when he sees Citrine. Citrine hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Officer,” they manage to squeak out. “Can I get you anything?”

There’s a tag on theri apron, mercifully, that reads RO. He may have introduced himself to Citrine before, but Citrine’s no good with names either. It sort of comes with being bad with people.

“Uh, no thanks.” Though their pastries are pretty good. Citrine’s partial to the bacon cheese pocket and cinnamon scrolls. No doughnuts. No more doughnut jokes, god damnit. “I’m actually looking for someone.”

Ro pales even further, if that were even possible. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Uh.” Citrine’s really not good at this shit. “Red hair, yellow streaks. A little taller than me - like, here?” He waves a little above his head vaguely. “Ponytail, but not a long one.”

Citrine has heard his coworkers talk about interrogating detainees before. That sometimes after a question the detainee would swear they didn’t know anything, but you could tell they were lying. Citrine had never believed them; figured it was just what enough self-conviction got you. But as soon as Citrine describes the gunman, he swears he sees Ro blink in recognition, and their jaw sets with a sureness that wasn’t there before.

“I don’t remember anyone like that,” he says.

It wouldn’t be hard to press them, but Citrine’s instincts tell him to stop there. “Sure. Thanks for your time.”

Ro’s expression turns openly surprised, as if he’d been gearing for a fight. “That’s it? I mean - uh, sorry I couldn’t help.”

Citrine gives a wave goodbye as he leaves, passing by a few scattered customers on the way to the door. One of them has cat-eared headphones that turn towards him as he walks by. He supposes that’s what you get at trendy cafes. 

As he continues, the waitress next door swears she’s never seen anyone who matches the description. Same for the convenience store clerk. The clothing store manager. The barista. Either the gunman really is that elusive, or so dangerous nobody wants to associate with them, but it doesn’t seem that way. Rather than confusion or fear, when the citizens they had had the same look as Ro - as if the gunman were someone to protect.

Citrine goes home that day without a single new lead, but at least he has this much of a hunch.

[aetheternity]

Can I have your number?

Synopsis: Armin’s always being asked by shy pretty girls for Eren’s number at parties to the point where when you ask for his number he doesn’t know how to respond. (Italicized words are Armin’s thoughts.)

“Why me?” Armin shrugs his cotton blue hoodie off his shoulders. Fingers grazing over the zipper in earnest contemplation. “Why don’t they ever just go right to him?” 

“I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, Armin.” Connie begins, finger tracing over the rim of his partially empty glass. “Well actually I’m not. You’re the approachable friend because Eren is so tall and sexy; and you’re puppy cute.” 

“Puppy cute.” Armin spits, eyes uncharacteristically narrowing. 

Sasha plucks the glass from Connie’s hand, “That’s enough outta you.” She huffs pulling the drink far from Connie’s reach. “Sorry Armin, it’s just cause he’s drunk.” 

“But he isn’t wrong.” He replies, Sasha sighs transitioning Connie’s glass to her free hand. She tilts her head apologetically. “He isn’t wrong.” Armin repeats, rolling his eyes. 

Just as he reaches for the glass he can’t stop nursing tonight; a tap on his shoulder stops him. “Hey um..” The girl in front of him is the same as the rest. Gorgeous. Small build fitted out in a white crop top and blue skirt like she was meant to perfectly match with Armin. Her hair was short barely making it to the nape of her neck. She shifted her weight back and forth as she looked up at Armin with pinked cheeks. 

“I really hate to bother you with this..” Then don’t. “Uh..” She steps back so Armin can look out at all the loud party goers and their raucous chatter. “You’re friends with him right?” 

Through the sea of people she manages to point right at Jean. His black vest over a brown tee shirt surprisingly easy to pinpoint as he chatted away with a couple of other guys. His black fingers nails lightly tapping the edges of his glass as he laughed away without a care in the world. Loose hairs of his mullet pulled back with two black hair pins while the rest of his hair was perfectly gelled. 

“Yeah.” Armin replied with a small roll of his eyes. 

“Do you think maybe.. I can have his number?” 

Armin suppresses the urge to snort. “Do you have a pen?” He asks

Sasha ends up being the one that hands one to him and he quickly scribbles Jean’s number onto a piece of paper. He hands it over and she responds with a quick, ‘thank you’ taking her leave as quickly as possible. 

“Woah.. Forgot how bitchy you can be when you’ve had a few.” Sasha giggles though unlike the girl from before Armin’s glare does nothing to sway her. 

“Did I forget to mention sometimes Jean’s girls come to me too?” He sighed

Connie had managed to grab a new glass while Sasha had fallen distracted. He lifted a bottle of vodka over the edge of the counter top, sloppily pouring a bit of it over his hand and onto the table before properly settling into an easy rhythm. 

“No more! I’m serious Connie, you’ve had enough and you’re starting to get vulgar.” She snatched the glass just before he could drink from it, pushing it far away from his grasp. 

“You bitch I have not!” He argues, it takes a second for him to register from the wide eyed expressions surrounding him just how loud and crass he’d been. “Alright I’m sorry.. please take me home.” 

Sasha nods, slapping Connie’s back as she inches him off the stool and to his feet, “Hey I know you’re tired of taking messages tonight but could you maybe..”

“Tell Jean you’re taking Connie home? Sure why the fuck not?” 

Armin sighs wrapping his hand around his own glass before it’s snatched from his palm, “You’ve had enough to.” Sasha points “Don’t you dare have another sip tonight.” And with that she’s stumbling through the crowd with Connie’s arm perched over her shoulder. 

When Armin stands he almost knocks the chair over. I didn’t think I had that much.. He thinks. He yanks his hoodie from where it’s drooping through the empty back of the chair, pushing the furniture back up when it falls on him. And when he’s properly standing he takes a deep breath, staggering toward the direction the girl from before had pointed in. 

Despite how dirty it is and his knowledge of such he rests his pounding skull down on the table upon arrival. The cool wood soothing his overly warm skin. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jean asks as Armin exhales gingerly 

“Shut up.” He mutters 

‘Too much bourbon I see.” Jean replies 

Armin hates it. Hates this party. Hates the noise. Hates how Jean’s nails feel so good running through his sweaty blond hair. 

“Come on, talk to me.” 

“Girls think I’m the approachable friend.” Armin replies, standing up straight using the table in front of him for support. 

“Well yeah.” Jean nods “I know but that’s just cause they don’t understand how cute, nice and charming you actually are. Those girls are missing out going to Eren when the real heartthrob is right in front of them.” 

Armin snorts, “You need to stop drinking.” 

“I figured right after I called you cute.” Jean slides his glass away turning his attention back to Armin. “ But I wasn’t lying.” 

Armin shoots up, finger out towards Jean. “At least eight girls in the three hours we’ve been here have asked about Eren. Two asked about you.” 

“Do you know the names of my two?” 

“I think it was, I don’t know and the second was I don’t care.” 

“Ouch.” Jean pressed a finger to his lip, the black nail polish accented in the strobe lighting. He pressed his chin into his palm leaning in closer to Armin. “Have you ever considered changing your hair? Maybe growing it out or cutting it more?” 

“No I-” 

The terrible clatter of glasses shook Armin and Jean from their conversation. Three girls all of whom were laughing at nothing now standing in front of them. “Hey!” One greeted 

“Hello ladies.” Jean replied back while Armin gritted his teeth. 

The girl farthest away snorted, gesturing with her hands to the girl who had spoken up to begin with. “So my friends-” She quickly slapped the third girl on the back who instantly began giggling again. “I’m sorry.” 

Jean just nodded glancing at an unamused Armin. 

“You know him right?” The first girl tried immediately covering her mouth as though she’d said something completely foul. She pointed across the room at Eren who seemed completely unresponsive to a one sided conversation with a random girl. 

“Starting to wish I didn’t..” 

“Huh?!” Yelled the third girl 

“No, no..” The second girl began “It’s just cause these two like him.” The entire gaggle burst into loud giggles. All three of them pushing their hair away from their eyes and bouncing around like small children. 

When the agitating screeching died down the second girl added “We wanna see who he likes best.” She finished 

“Is he seeing anyone?” The first girl chimed in

“Not that I know of.” Armin answered 

“Do you have his number?” The third girl asked 

“I have it.” Jean responded before Armin could even create the sentence in his head. 

Jean promptly jotted the number down giving it to the first girl who didn’t hesitate in snatching it from his hand and heading off. The second girl behind her soon followed by the only one from the group that didn’t leave their manners at home. The third girl smiling with an appreciative farewell. 

Jean made a small noise in his throat, turning back to Armin with the nail of his thumb pressed under his teeth. “Maybe you should go home?.. You know what I’ll leave with you.” 

“Jean, no offense but I don’t want pity.” 

“When do you think Eren is gonna wanna leave?” 

“I don’t know.” He huffed “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” 

He didn’t wait for Jean’s reply just grabbed his once discarded hoodie and headed through the mess of drunk partygoers towards the bathroom. He didn’t even need to actually use it. Just wanted to be out of sight of all the stupid drunk girls vying for Eren’s affections. Not even realizing that tissue has touched Eren longer than any of them will. 

The bathroom door was closed and maybe that was a good thing because it wasn’t extremely likely that Armin wouldn’t stay in there for a couple hours after the night he’s endured. He lets out a long exhale hunting around for his phone. Blond hair sticking up as he slumps against the wall. 

“Um hey.” Armin doesn’t even bother to look up. “Is someone in there?” 

“Yup.” He grunts 

Armin notes the slight shift in the person in front of him. He looks up completely unsurprised by the fleeting glance, the hands crossed behind their back and head bowed. 

“Ok.” The girl begins but by this point Armin’s attention is redirected to his phone  “My name is Y/N, I wanted to ask you if maybe I could have your number?” 

Armin blinks expression completely unchanged as she hands over her phone. He lets his eyes roll around in his head taking the device and robotically typing in Eren’s number in contacts. When he gives it back to her she lets out a little squeak of excitement. 

“I’ll call you!” She calls before running off 

Wait..  Gears turn like clockwork in his brain. Slowly but surely the situation dawns on him. His number???? Did a girl? Particularly one as cute as her ask for his number?? 

Granted he’d only seen her for a couple seconds but she was most certainly the most put together girl that had approached him tonight. Clothes neat and tidy. No flopping around like a fish out of water at any point during the conversation. Hair done in a ponytail that wasn’t begging for release from its confines. 

And he’d given her Eren’s number.. 

Shit! 

Safe to say Armin bolted. Back down the hall, leaping up to search over the crowding heads all around. Successfully getting weird stares but that was beyond his problems at the moment. Once he’d decided that she wasn’t anywhere around he sprinted through out the door and towards the stairs. 

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” He called, hearing the sound of footsteps. 

His heart collided with his ribcage, loud stomps ensuing as he sprinted around the bend at the bottom of the staircase. She was in his sights, her head turning and eyes making contact with his and just as soon his foot slipped. Body colliding with the first stair, then the second and so on till he’d successfully finished rolling down the entire flight. Slamming into the wall with a hard thud. 

“Oh my god Armin!” She settled onto her knees, reaching out for his face. Delicate palms brushing over his sore cheeks. “Are you ok? Never mind, stupid question, let me call an ambulance.” 

Blond lashes slowly fluttered close then open as she moved to pull her phone from her pocket. “Before you do.” Armin panted still working to catch his breath. “Can I give you my number? For real this time?”  

Ok so this is unedited because I think writers block is trying to take me and I’m trying my hardest to keep it at bay. I have like 5 things in the works at the moment so I really don’t need that.       

[oumaheroes]

Christmas Drabble (5)

Summary: France bemoans his situation and somehow gets his own way.

Word Count: 973 (👀 dangerously close)

Characters: England, France- FrUK

Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4

----

England tutted and pulled the phone away from his ear, 'Jack won't answer the phone. Hung up almost as soon as it started ringing.'

'What about the other one?' France tied his hair up into a ponytail and contemplated his reflection in a shop window. It was too high- he took it down, 'Try them.'

'Alex,' England said pointedly, hanging the payphone back in its cradle, 'And I only had enough coins for one call.'

'Mathieu always answers; you should have tried him.'

'I wanted to at least let Jack and Alex know what was going on with me first.' England glared at the payphone as if it had done him a personal evil.

Sensing there was slightly more going on than what England was saying, France shrugged and retied his hair again, 'Well, you tried. Let's head back inside, pick up your car and get going and then you can stop worrying.'

'I'm not worrying.'

'That was me politely choosing not to call you a control freak.' England didn't reply and France turned away from the shop window, happy enough with his hair to leave it alone for now. No matter what he did he would still look unclean and the more he touched it, the worse it would get.

England was still staring at the payphone, hand over his mouth and one finger drumming against his cheek, 'There is nothing you can do about it now.' France said, more gently than before, 'You can stop stressing, safe in the knowledge that you tried your best to let them know what was going on but were thwarted very much against your will.'

'I'm not stressing,' England said but the edges of his mouth softened and he stepped away from the payphone finally.

Across the road, their mechanic came out of the garages and waved at them to come over. France gave a sigh of relief, 'I am so ready to be inside. I am using the shower first, by the way.'

'The shower?' England stepped into the road, holding a hand up in thanks to the car that had stopped for him. France quickly followed, 'What shower, what on earth are you talking about.'

'Your shower. In your townhouse.'

'We're not going there. We're going to-'

'Yes yes I know,' France caught hold of England's arm to slow him down and hold him in the central reservation, 'we're going to the countryside. But I am not driving all the way there with you smelling like this.'

England's neck and ears flushed bright red and he tugged his arm free, 'Fuck you, I don't smell.'

'You smell like tree,' France spoke over him in irritation, 'You smell like tree and mud and river and so do I.'

'Well, now why on earth might I smell like that.' Checking traffic, England jogged over the last half of the road and France once more followed hot on his heels, not fancying being struck down by a double decker bus.

Again. Once per decade was more than enough.

'You might find this socially acceptable, but so did a peasant in 1652 and neither of those is a compliment.'

'I'm already late, I'm not going to faff about when two of my children might be waiting for me at an airport.' An elderly woman ambling past them gave England a disapproving look, no doubt assuming from his youthful appearance that he was responsible for producing numerous infants before the age of 27 and then abandoning a couple of them on their own somewhere.

'No stop, listen.' France took his hand to keep him still, 'You're hours late, we spent far too long looking for your damned keys and then had to walk all the way to a town to get towed. They won't still be there waiting; they'd have called Mathieu or one of your brothers and will most likely already be home. We should take the opportunity to get clean, charge our phones and then let them know quicker what happened.'

England huffed, looking conflicted, 'I suppose that does make the most sense.'

'It does,' France squeezed his arm, 'Now, go and talk to the mechanic. I refuse to speak English without caffeine to help soothe the offense of it.'

'You'd refuse anyway,' England muttered.

At their approach, the mechanic who'd been looking after England's car perked up and nodded in greeting before leading them through to England's somehow still shiny car, 'Battery's been replaced. Nothing else seems wrong but it was run completely dead.'

'Cheers, how much do I owe you?' England's vowels bended and shaped themselves accordingly, accent changing to match the human's with ease and France turned away in boredom, glancing about the tools and pieces of cars stacked against the walls.

The mechanic named a price, England handed over his debit card, and then they were on their way, the mechanic offering some last parting advice to never leave the lights on without the engine running which England took with a blank, unimpressed expression.

'Finally,' France said once they were moving, leaning back with pleasure against the headrest, 'My feet were not prepared for such torture when I chose these shoes.'

'Get your slimy head off my seats,' England flicked him on the temple, 'You said so yourself, you need a shower.'

'Oh, I'm sorry? You are concerned about mess on your seats? You didn't have such worries last night when I-'

England clapped a well aimed hand over France's mouth without taking his eyes from the road, 'There were towels.'

'Ah yes, how could I forget your romantic decorative touch. And you think they caught everything? You're not as flexible as you used to be, you know.' France grinned against England's palm, 'How badly are you hoping the mechanics didn't find those?'

---- 

'I think I'd rather shoot you as a distraction.'

Part 6

AN:

Shout out to @atticusfinchthelegend who immediately thought that there was more going on when Australia didn't answer his phone.

Only a few more drabbles to go!

[elysianslove]

helo love! i hope you're having a good day. kinda want a break from bf hq boys. can i ask for miya twins as reader's older brothers? 👉👈 i was thinking if she can be the manager of inarizaki just because i want aran to lose his mind from dealing with three miyas hahahaha. thank youuu ily!! ʕ•ε•ʔ

omg i lovelovelove the concept of the miya twins having a sister and now that i’ve gotten an ask about it skfsbfkj <3333 thank you for sending this and i hope you like it!! 

MIYA TWINS WITH A YOUNGER SISTER 

considering you and the two of them are only a year apart, you’re pretty close with one another. of course, the older you got, the more annoying they were, and there was this one era when they were like 9-12 that they made it their life mission to annoy you. but then they grew out of that phase eventually, and as they matured, they became more tolerable. 

they’re not only teenage boys, but also your older brothers. they’re going to be annoying. 

atsumu definitely does that sibling thing where he’s like eating a bowl of cereal or whatever and he enters your room, just stands there and chews really loudly, then walks back out without closing the door. it makes you want to kill him every time.

osamu probably just like tugs at your hair whenever he sees you because why not yk, especially if it’s in a ponytail or a braid. and this isn’t 9-12 year old osamu. this is like 15-17 year old osamu. he just grabs your braid and pulls. you might snap your neck one day honestly. 

atsumu eats your leftovers. all the time. like literally all the time how do u still have 2 brothers and not 1

osamu comes and sits in your room like on ur couch or bed cause you have better wifi or whatever. he farts and goes “sorry :D.” he is not sorry.

sometimes the both of them team up on you and it’s so exhausting. but if you manage to get your mom on your side? consider them obliterated. 

and yk what’s even more fun? when you and a twin team up on the other twin. it’s just always hilarious cause the other twin will act so betrayed vjshsdsk

anyways because you’re only one year apart, their friends are your friends and your friends are their friends. have you ever had to deal with a “best friend’s brother” type of thing where a friend of yours only wanted to come over because she heard that miya atsumu likes to walk around the house shirtless? yes. 

she ended up being extremely disappointed at the fact that miya atsumu has a lot more respect for those living in the same house as him and doesn’t walk around shirtless. ironic. 

but also atsumu does flirt with every single one of your friends. 

flirt with his it’s okay <3

you’d think atsumu would be more protective or selfish about you being close with him and samu’s friends? nope. 

it’s osamu

like, for example, every time he sees you walking alone with suna he wants to either deck suna or deck you. he can never decide on which one. 

he’s just very good at hiding things like that, and atsumu isn’t, so it always seems like atsumu gives more of a shit than osamu does. and honestly, osamu’s not even sure why it bothers him so much. he’s not mad that you’re friends with his friends, like, obviously he isn’t, because he’s happy to share, especially since you’re his sister. but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he really can’t have anything for himself you know? sounds pathetic and selfish but he can’t help it. 

i think you bring it up at some point and ask him if he’s bothered by it, and it took a whileee before he admitted that yes, it kinda does. it made sense in your head though, only because he’s your brother, and obviously you’re not gonna stop being friends with them, but you understand. they were his first, in a sense. 

but!!! he’s not gonna lie, osamu loves the fact that he can trust his friends with you. like if anything were to ever happen to you, he knows his friends will react the same way he would, and that alone kinda reels him in. 

since you’ve known aran since you were really young, he’s kinda like a third older brother to you. he always acts like a mediator between you and your brothers (and is always on your side, even if you’re in the wrong. so what if his favoritism is showing?). you genuinely feel like you can turn to him for anything at any point if you can’t turn to your brothers first. 

but out of all their friends, you’re closest to suna and you can’t explain why. he’s just so nice to be around and if you’re left alone with him, it can’t ever be awkward, even if it’s completely silent and quiet. plus, suna’s probably covered for you a couple of times if we’re being honest :)

anyways! 

protective wise, they’re honestly a lot better than you’d think they’d be. like yeah they’ll give you hell if you even mention the fact that you might have a crush on someone, but in reality, they just want what’s best for you, and they want you to always be happy.

obviously, if the person of your choosing really doesn’t seem like they have your best interest in mind, your brothers will be extremely blunt about it. like i said, they want what’s best for you, and they’re not going to sugarcoat anything at all. 

good luck trying to get your opinion in on their love interests they’re suddenly incapable of hearing. hypocrites and double standards <//3

they will do the whole interrogation thing, but it’s mostly because they don’t wanna look like they’re softies. they want the person to fear for their life if they even consider hurting you. 

in regards to comfort; 

osamu is the best listener there is. genuinely. he just sits there and lets you talk his ear off. he won’t care if you spend hours doing it. if it helps you relax, and calm down, then he’s all for it. 

atsumu is who to go to when you’re sobbing and need to get your mind off of something. he’s great at distracting you, but healthily. he’s not very good at the talking thing, and he will listen if you need him to, but go to him when you don’t want to think about anything anymore, yk? 

btw!! both of them are secretly huge suckers for the drama in your life. if there’s some friendship drama, they want all the details. they’re giving you the best reactions and the most ridiculous advice, and are definitely heating you up more than they should be but, what else are you expecting?

as each other’s siblings, you’re insanely supportive of each other and your respective dreams. like when you found out osamu wanted to go into a completely different field than atsumu, you spent a thousand nights trying to convince him that what he was doing was right, and spent another thousand nights trying to convince atsumu that osamu choosing a different career path didn’t mean he was leaving him behind. 

whatever your own dream may be, they’re hella supportive. like suffocatingly so. if it’s something they’re well versed in, like volleyball or cooking, they’re helping you out in every way they can, every second they can. but if they’re unfamiliar with it, they’ll either pretend they’re the most knowledgable people about it and end up embarrassing themselves, or will just support you any other way they can (for example, buying or promoting your things, or proofreading, or helping you edit, etc). 

when the three of you are older and have lives of your own, you still take the time out of your day to catch up. sometimes other days are harder than others, because your lives are so different that there can be no time at all, but every time you see them through a screen or you meet up after hours in osamu’s restaurant, or you and osamu sit front row at one of atsumu’s games, it genuinely doesn’t feel like any time has passed. you’re so different but the exact same. 

they piss you off, insanely so, and you get on their nerves too. you’ve spat ugly words at each other, words you didn’t mean, and made each other cry, frustrated and angered one another, but at the end of the day, you’re siblings. at the end of the day, they’re the most important constants in your life. no matter what, they’re there. 

you can always count on that, you know? :) 

so are y’all gonna send me more prompts like these? 😼 please? 

[drarryangels]

Prompts are open! Professors!Drarry, husbands, one tells students all about his husband. No one knows who that is. Until one day sth clues them in. And everyone's like - WHAAAA?! Bets are lost. McG is amused.

Hello there! This is the oldest prompt in my ask box, haha! So sorry it took like two years to get around to this.... *blushes*

Anyways, I hope you like!

-

“That will be all for today,” Harry says. “You can have the rest of the period to work.”

He leans back against his desk and watches the scramble of students trying to pair off with their friends. He smiles and shakes his head. Every day is the same. Gloriously, marvelously, wonderfully the same.

“Professor Potter?”

Harry looks over to one of his students, a slight teenage girl with her hair tied up into three ponytails. “Yes, Miss Wimblefon?”

She twirls a curl of hair around her finger and smiles up at him. “I had a question for you. About the assignment.”

Harry sighs and waves his hand. “Ask away.”

“You said that the enchantment only works if the user is truly in love,” she begins.

Harry nods and folds his arms. “Precisely. Which is why you are only working on the theoretical application of this spell, and not trying to use it on your classmates.”

Jane giggles. “I’m in love. Can I give it a try?”

Harry stands up and brushes off the front of his robes. “You most certainly may not, Miss Wimblefon. As much as I am pleased by your interest in the subject, it’s not appropriate nor safe to produce the enchantment even when one is truly in love, and I have the strong suspicion that you are not.”

Jane’s cheeks go red. “Well, what does the spell do anyways?” she says, crossing her arms and huffing.

“An excellent question,” Harry says. “An easily answered one if you do your reading.” He holds his hand out to the classroom, and she gives him one last glare before turning on her heel and taking a seat with Mildred Daney.

*

“Merlin,” Harry says, dropping down onto the bed and spreading his arms out wide.

“What is it?” Draco asks, emerging from the bathroom and leaning against the door frame with his toothbrush stuck out of his mouth. “Jane flirting with you again?”

Harry groans and rolls over on the bed. “How did you know?”

Draco disappears to spit out his toothpaste, and then returns, smelling of mint and citrus shampoo. He climbs up the bed and drops down beside Harry, curling an arm around his waist and pressing his nose in the back of his neck.

“Because she’s the exact same with me,” Draco sighs. “Always playing with that bloody hair of hers.”

“She’s a sixth year already,” Harry says to the wall. “Isn’t this a bit odd?”

Draco nuzzles in closer behind Harry. “Someone should tell her that if she keeps tugging at that hair, it will all fall out by the time she’s twenty.”

Harry laughs. “Don’t you dare, Draco. Her mother will tear down the school.”

Draco bumps his head between Harry’s shoulder blades. “Well, then it will be McGonagall’s problem.”

Harry twists and rolls over to face Draco, his face smiling and bright. “You know,” Harry says, touching their noses together. “I think you may be right.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes,” Harry says and pushes himself on top of Draco, knees on either sides of his hips and arms around his shoulders. “Get Jane out of our hair.” He sets his head down on Draco’s chest. “And while we’re waiting for her mother to Floo in, we can plan our joint funeral, hm?”

“Bit early, isn’t it?” Draco says. He lifts his hands and rubs them up and down Harry’s back.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Harry says. He lifts his head up and grins at Draco. “In fact, it may be a bit late if McGonagall has anything to do with it.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry says, and drops his head back down on Draco’s chest.

Draco is so warm, so soft. Nice. A weight tethering him to the ground, to sanity.

“Good night,” Harry sighs.

Draco smacks his bum. “Get up and brush your teeth, you buffoon.”

Harry groans as Draco pushes him away, all the way off of the bed.

“Why?” Harry wails as he hits the ground with a great oof.

“Because I love you,” Draco says happily before sending a stinging jinx in the direction of Harry’s backside. “Very, very much.”

*

“Hello, Professor Potter,” Jane says. She’s twirling her hair again.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Harry says over his breakfast potatoes. “May I help you with something?”

“Yes,” she says, looking rather pleased with herself with her chin all drawn up. “The book says that the enchantment provides a binding connection to the user’s true love. One that doesn’t break until death.”

Harry squirts some ketchup onto his plate. “Almost correct.”

“What?”

Harry picks up a piece of bacon. “Almost correct. The enchantment doesn’t die after death. That’s why it’s so complicated. It must be a mutual bonding, and both parties must be truly in love with the other. And the bond doesn’t break after death, which opens up a certain realm of questioning about putting intention behind spells.”

Jane shakes her head hard. “What does it benefit though? Why engage in such complicated and dangerous magic? What does it do?”

Harry smiles and sets his bacon down. “Miss Wimblefon, would you mind continuing this conversation during our class time? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”

Draco snorts beside him.

Jane glances over at Draco briefly and narrows her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Draco looks up from his hash and stares at her with wide grey eyes. Too wide to really be attractive, people have said before. Harry likes them.

“Right then,” she says, and runs off.

“Bless you,” Harry says, linking his pinkie into Draco’s.

Draco raises his eyebrows. “Harry.”

“Yes, my love?” Harry smiles at him. Innocently, very innocently.

“Why are you teaching verus amor est alliges duplicia?” Draco glares at him, and squeezes hard with his pinkie finger. “That’s extremely complicated magic.”

Harry shrugs. “No reason at all.”

Draco sighs and winds the rest of his fingers through Harry’s. “Oh, Harry.”

Harry grins. “Oh, Draco.”

*

“It’s class time now,” Jane says.

Harry glances up at his charmed clock over the archway in his office. “Not quite, Miss Wimblefon.”

“Well,” she says, already sitting down in the chair opposite him. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lecture, so I thought I’d pop in early.”

“Right,” Harry says. It’s probably best to get this over with. Maybe if Harry answers all her questions, she’ll leave him alone. “Go on then.”

“I’m curious to know what is the purpose of the spell.” She folds her hands on Harry’s desk and leans forward.

Harry pushes his chair back slightly. “It’s an irreversible connection with the person who loves you most in the world. It links you together. So, theoretically, if one half of the pairing was hurt, the other would know it. If something good has happened to one, the other feels their happiness.”

“So they share feelings?” Jane asks.

“No,” Harry says. “It’s not sharing. It’s just a sense. An added knowledge.”

“And what else?” she demands.

“It can act as a protective charm, if in dire circumstances,” Harry says. “A bubble of defense, if the two are physically close.”

Jane sighs and kicks her loafers on the floor. “It sounds fine, but not worth the magic.”

Harry smiles. He’d felt the same way when he’d first learned of it. “Well it’s more than that. The best part about it is the connection. It is difficult to explain, even for those who have experienced it. It is a joining of skin, two souls being one, a linking of magic. It is being melded with another person, body, soul, and mind. It is having them with you, always.”

Jane’s mouth opens a bit. “Er. Professor Potter?”

“Yes?” Harry asks pleasantly.

“Are you bonded to someone?” Jane asks, looking scared and excited all at once.

“To my husband, yes,” Harry says, and smiles at her.

Jane falls out of her chair.

*

It takes another four days after Jane faints in Harry’s office before she comes to confront him again.

“You’re completely oblivious to it,” Draco is saying to Harry. “He has an excellent aptitude for Potions. He’s very talented, really.”

They’re in greenhouse four, so Draco can collect clippings for a potion in his classes the next day. Harry hovers by Draco’s side, not doing anything particularly useful.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Please, you should see him in Defense. I might as well transfigure him into a hippo, and see if it changes the results.”

Draco touches a hand to his chest. “My, my, Harry. I think you’re spending too much time with me.”

Harry pushes at him. “I know I am. Thank Merlin for it.”

“Professor Potter?”

Harry trips and nearly stumbles over into a collection of finger eating bushes before Draco grabs his sleeve and hauls him up.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Draco says coolly. “May I ask you what you’re doing out of bed at this hour?”

Her eyes pass over Draco. “Professor Potter, I have more questions for you.”

Harry is still choking on his breath. “Er. Yes. Miss Wimblefon, can we resume this conversation at a later time?”

“No,” she says, and comes to stand next to him. “Carry on with your walk. I’ll simply join in.”

They have no choice but to walk.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Jane begins immediately as they’re leaving the greenhouse. “Especially not to a man.”

Draco throws an elbow in Harry’s direction and raises both his eyebrows in question. What is she talking about? he mouths. Harry shakes his head. He has no idea.

“So you’ve performed verus amor est alliges duplicia.”

Draco straightens up beside Harry. He chooses not to look over at him for fear of being burned to the ground with the look on Draco’s face.

“Quite,” Harry says.

“With whom?”

Harry stops. “What do you mean with whom?”

He looks over at Draco, who looks just as bewildered as Harry does, his irritation at Harry’s curriculum forgotten.

Jane stops too and looks back at them. “Who are you married to?”

Harry could fall over laughing.

Draco speaks before he can. “Miss Wimblefon. What is my name?”

Jane finally looks at him. “Professor Potter?”

“Yes.” Draco says very slowly. “My name is Draco Potter.”

Jane shakes her head, still looking confused. “So?”

Draco huffs and flicks his hair off his cheekbones. “So I share a last name with Harry Potter. Who do you think I am?”

“Potter is a common name, it’s not weird that you both have....” Her eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Draco snaps. “Merlin and Arthur, these children get dimmer every year. Potter’s a common name. Honestly!”

Jane turns and takes off running up to the castle.

Harry lets out a breath and holds out his hand for Draco to take. “I think you’re right, love. They really are getting dimmer.”

Draco takes his hand, gentle. “Why did we choose this career path anyways?”

Harry shrugs and they begin the walk up to the castle together. “Good pay?”

Draco blows out a hard laugh. “Good pay, indeed.”

*

Jane Wimblefon tells the entire school that Professor Harry Potter and Professor Draco Potter are married at breakfast the next day.

Harry drops his head into his hands and Draco rolls his eyes. Headmistress McGonagall stands up briskly and walks right out of the Great Hall. Hagrid bursts out laughing before knocking over the entire front table, and Professor Flitwick along with it.

The students go into a frenzy, jumping up and running from table to table, expressions of shock painted over their faces.

“Forget dim,” Draco says, looking out over the chaos. “This generation is entirely brain dead.”

Harry laughs so hard he gets marmalade in his hair.

[cartierbin]

pls could you do a dilf!minho smut? haha your dilf ones are so good

ofc baby. tysm.

『 pairing — minho x reader

genre — smut, + dilf!minho but sex therapist type shit

word count — 1.532k 』

smut under the cut !

“I don’t know what it is to be quite honest with you”. you muttered, fiddling your fingers and hastily checking the clock every five minutes. it could’ve been any minute until your husband came home, and you knew he was going to ask you where you were. the last thing you wanted to say was that you were out in the late hours of the night, seeking help from your therapist. especially your sex therapist.

dr. lee minho shifts a little his seat, his muscular yet lean body complimented his grey suit perfectly, and his circular lenses made him look that much more enticing. his jet black hair was parted to the left without flaw. your therapist was sexy and he knew it. and most importantly you knew it. It was hard to believe this was a man with three children. he glides his tongue over the span of his parched lips and continued scribbling in his notes. when his eyes focused back on you they were serious. for some reason whenever he gazed at you it almost looked as if he was reading you, like he was prepared to tell you your future out of a crystal ball. he held knowledge and wisdom in his eyes even if he didn’t say much of anything. “what you have to understand is that communication in the bedroom is really essential. if you and your partner are not communicating then you will never get what you need”. he always talked with his hands too, he was confident with every word and it’s clear that he knew what he was talking about. and if he wasn’t he was for damn sure good at hiding his uncertainty. “that’s the thing I don’t know where to start. I ask him if he wants to try new things but he turns all of my ideas down and I’m not sure what to do anymore. I’m afraid if this continues I don’t think this relationship would last. does that sound childish of me? shifting away from him because of the sex?”.

“baby what I need you to do first is stop tearing yourself down with this. don’t invalidate your feelings. sex in a relationship is just as important as everything else and we’re only humans, we have needs. and we want our partners to be able to meet them. I think your dilemma is stemming from the fact that you think you’re being too pushy if you ask for more. and you need to stop that”. it wasn’t until you started coming to his sessions where you realized someone could talk in such a demanding tone but yet so loving. he never spoke as if he knew it all even though he did, but he spoke as if he sincerely loved you and only wanted the best for you. you nod at his response taking heed to his advice. he continues, “and once you stop that you’ll be able to ask without that weighty feeling on your shoulders”. you nod yet again, all of a sudden feeling kind of fidgety and anxious. “so where do I began?”. he places his notepad on the table beside him and stands to his feet, ushering you over with a hand. when you stood up you were fairly intimidated by his austere demeanor. you knew he was probably a playful man outside of the office but in it, he was much different. he guided you to the long mirror between two potted plants, making you stand right in front of him. you practically shuddered once you gazed right past your reflection and directly at his while he was standing directly behind you.

“loosen up a little. we’re going to do an exercise”. you nod, “what is it?”. he licks his lips again and makes a ponytail out of your hair, bringing it all behind your shoulders so you could get a clear view of yourself. you grew hot in the face from his gestures. “I’m going to be your husband. and you’re going to look into this mirror and tell me what you want more of. no matter what is it I’ll have to listen to you. this will help you gain confidence in yourself so when it happens in real time you’ll be prepared and not embarrassed when you hear yourself”. your heart steadily pounded at his request. you kindly obliged to his orders. “before we start I’d like to know if it’s okay to touch you?”. you agreed to that request as well, not really caring where and how. you weren’t prepared for him to immediately attached his lips to your neck, peppering specks of kisses along the coast of your shoulders. his lips were so gentle and heedful, kind of like the way he spoke. you stood there for a while tensed, not knowing what to do and being absolutely frozen on the tingling feelings his lips left you with. he spoke into his next kiss, “go on, tell me what you want”. your eyes fell to his veiny calloused hands and you couldn’t believe what you were about to say but you had to say it. it was apart of the exercise after all. “I want you to touch me”. you admitted weakly, your voice going hoarse between syllables. you were nervous and you didn’t know what to expect. his mouth moved further up your neck and you could see his arm slither around your waist to the front button of your jeans, undoing them and zipping down your zipper. you stopped breathing completely once he crammed his hand inside the front of your panties.

“stop sounding like that. control your voice”. he demanded, you gulped hard and twitched when you felt his fingertips rub the surface of your already moistened folds. “rub my clit please”. you sort of whined. he followed suit, circling it around lazily. your heart was throbbing in your ears. he wasn’t even doing much and it felt fucking good. you drew in a sharp breath, realizing that watching yourself get touched in a mirror was ten times hotter than you thought it would be. he swivels his head over to the other side of your neck, catching abandoned spots of skin in between his lips to suck. “this is all you want baby?”. he spoke in a tone so dark you wanted to just fall to your knees. you were already starting to throb at his gestures. “can you rub it faster please?”. you stutter, mentally cursing at yourself for doing so and being oblivious to the fact that minho thought it was kind of sexy. he does so. “don’t leave it at that. tell me how wet you are. tell me what your pussy feels like”. he could feel his fingers becoming slippery with your slick, it was getting harder and harder to rub you. It turned him on but it was only obvious, you felt his bulge poking you from behind. you breathed, “my pussy is throbbing so hard I’m getting so wet-“. he languidly tongue kisses your jawline and an overwhelming wave washed over your body. “mm what do you need?”. electricity courses through your torso. it was hot the way his mouth moved passionately against your skin as if he’s known it for years. “I need you to stick your fingers inside me please”. with no hesitation he sunk his fingers into your hole going a bit deeper than he intended, but nonetheless proud of himself for making you arch your back against him. he could feel your slick sliding down his knuckles. “shit”. he unexpectedly groans, revealing to you how much he actually enjoyed this.

you shut your eyes tight while his fingers delve inside you steadily and pulled out at a measured pace. you began to whine and rub your ass against him in the process. “open your eyes for me. I want you to see yourself”. his voice made you want to collapse and his fingers moved so smoothly inside you you were starting think that he went to school for this. they were magic in between your legs and you didn’t want him to stop. your eyes fluttered open, one after the other and your mouth hung open. “tell me how it feels”. by now his lips was so close to your mouth you just wanted him to kiss you already. it was a tease the way his mouth ran over everything but your lips. but it was hard to ask for that when you were prompted with another question. you could barely think with him touching you like this. “it feels— it feels so fucking good oh my god”. the whimper in your eyes is what drove him insane. you looked so needy and burdened with want he wondered how and why your husband wasn’t doing this to you already. your thighs were threatened to clasp around his wrist, you didn’t know if you could take much more. his other hand snakes up your shirt and grasps your naked breasts, massaging one and pulling and tugging on your nipples. the feelings were foreign, your husband usually filled one night with one of these motions. It was never everything happening all at once like this. your pants became quicker, “faster”. you hummed, becoming more confident with your demands. you watched the outline of his fingers in your panties hastening their pace, finger fucking you at an intensity that had you reaching back just to clutch the fabric on his shoulder. you could wrap your mind around how perfect and skilled he was at doing this, well you couldn’t wrap your mind around anything for that matters. your head falls back into the crook of his neck and you reached down the grip his moving wrist. “fuck I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum so hard”. he sticks his tongue in your mouth and performs the hottest kiss you’ve ever felt in your married life. “yes keep talking like that”. he exhales sounding just as winded and breathless as you were. “I don’t think I can take it please my pussy is throbbing too hard”. you whine at the top of your lungs feeling his fingers deeper inside you. you could feel the palm of his hand rubbing your ass a little. “there you go, cum down my fingers”. he demands licking and sucking the skin of your neck until your eyes rolled to the back of your head in a mind blowing orgasm.

you were still bucking inside his hand as he rubbed all of the aftershocks right out of you, enjoying how much you were cumming especially since it was the first time you’ve came like that in years. you were limp and weak, and you just knew that your husband probably already texted you about twenty times trying to figure out where you were but you didn’t care. minho sneaks kisses to your hot earlobe. “from a professional standpoint I’m proud of you for speaking up for what you wanted. but aside from me being your therapist that was so fucking sexy”.

[zhongliologist]

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors. 

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

*

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. “Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

[sweetsbfreex]

my baby, my baby

brought to u by me watching IW for the millionth time

Summary: You ask Steve for one thing before the fight against Thanos (IW), but for the first time in however long he denies you of fulfilling this wish.

Warnings: language?

Pairing: Nomad, Bf!Steve x thanos daughter!reader

-

He was manning the quinjet, not all the way true. Sam was flying the jet to Wakanda, Steve slumped in his seat beside Sam, in deep thought. His chin is set into his palm, his arm sitting up on the armrest, and his palm covering half of his mouth. Looking further down his leg was jittering steadily.

What would happen next was a pretty big deal, none of you on the jet knew what could go wrong. So obviously tensions were at an all time high in this cooped up jet. 

You rise up from your seat between Wanda and Nat. Walking yourself behind Steve’s chair. Your pointer finger taps his embellished shoulder, separating him from his apprehensive thoughts. He looks up at you and the creases that were once prominent in his forehead evaporated. 

You don’t utter anything, only nudging your head behind you. 

Follow me to the back.

Is what’s reciprocated when he too gets up from his seat, letting Sam know he’ll be up front in a second. Once you turn, he follows you down the small aisle to the side “room” away from all the prying ears. 

Finally.

You step into the room first. You weren't going to lie, your heart was beating with so much force and it only grew as he walked past you into the room. You close the door behind you, turning, so you're facing Steve's attentive figure. 

You only smile at him to some extent, prompted to show there were no ill intentions to asking him back here. When you see how nervous he looks, as you take his hand seating the both of you to a bench against the wall.

Your knees tenderly touch. He clears his throat coercing you to go on, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

“You alright doll?” he asks you, in a gentle manner. Taking the already linked palms shifting it from your lap to his. His other hand blanketing your combined hands. 

“I’m okay. Are you?” you ask the question hesitantly, raising your spare hand to move aside the hair that fell over and veiled his eyes. You desperately wanted to make sure you got a good look at his face. You loved his face.  

His cheeks go plump in a charming smile, and his hand squeezes yours back. 

His hair was long. Longer than you would’ve ever imagined Steve would let it be. Either way you loved every inch of the gold locks. Yet, everytime you told him how much you loved it, despite his insecurity and slight annoyance with it. He'd always fall into a rampage down memory lane. Telling you how his late mother would've hounded him about the upkeep of his hair.  

You adored that about him too. Loved, that he loved so hard and so full. He’d never forget the ones he loved no matter what. 

“I’m swell, you don’t need to worry about me” he tells you. 

You didn’t believe him one bit and you weren’t going to push him about it. You knew how he was...stubborn as ever. But, it was also ,by and large, your job to worry about him–– after loving him of course. Contrary to what he would say (Which was vice-versa.)

“We’re gonna be okay...okay? But I have something to ask you. And you can’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising that, but we won’t shout. We’ll talk it out–– whatever it is”

It was the best you were going to get from him and time was closing in on you guys being able to be like this, anway.  

“I know how you are, but this is a really critical thing we're fighting for here. So, unless I'm in some type of grave danger. I don’t want you worrying about me on the field. No matter what...Make sure he doesn’t get that stone.” Your voice lets you down towards the end, starting to get scratchy and low. 

He stands up in no time. His hands going to his belt, then to his hips, he finally raises one hand to run against his beard.

His facial hair, another thing in the endless things you loved about Steve Rogers. 

When the stubble he usually shaves away kept growing into a full beard, it surprised you both. You in a hot kind of way, he became more adoring by day when decided to stop shaving. 

You walked in on him one day. He was facing the scratched up mirror in a bathroom in a dingy hotel room. Running his fingers against his face, the other clutching onto the edge of the counter. Tilting his head back and to, eyes shifting as he looked over his face. It was another part of the effect of the serum he didn’t expect would happen. 

Telling you a story as he wandered down memory lane again. How he had problems growing stubble as a sickly kid–– so behind on puberty. He even watched Bucky grow his first “stache” at sixteen, but that came to an abrupt stop when Bucky’s mother made him shave it off. 

Steve thought It was weird to think that he could now also.

You were still sitting on the bench. Swiveling your body so you were facing your boyfriend, looking up at his fidgeting build with care. 

Feeling like a child waiting for their parents to dispute whatever impending punishment they would grant. 

“Why would you ask me that?” he finally, finally disrupts his silence. Scoffing at the offensive question. 

He doesn’t look at you with anything negative, only confusion.

“Because. I don’t want you jumping in front of whatever it is in front of me...I know him, he’s my dad. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, even if it means I die.”

When Steve told you that it was actually Bruce calling and told you what he said. He looked at you baffled when the shirt you were about to put on dropped from your grasp.

Once you told him you had knowledge of Thanos and how you knew him, there was a pregnant silence in the air.

If anything it filled the rage towards Thanos in Steve even more, by the time you finished. 

“Are you listening to yourself?” he questions you in disbelief, lips stuck in a sneer.

“Please. Just please, angel.” you maintain.  

You don’t answer either of his questions and he truly hates that. He stays silent for a bit watching your seated figure, looking up at him with the saddest eyes you’ve ever given him. His puzzled eyes shift down to your bobbing leg and your hands wringing together with so much speed and anguish.

He could probably throw up right now.  

And when he shifts his eyes up again, you keep that same look on your face waiting for him to say anything.

He sighs dejectedly, dropping his hands to his side, and walking himself back over to you. He sits closer to you than before. Extending a gloved hand to caress your cheek before fixing the flyaways from your sleek ponytail.  

“I can’t. You’ll always be my priority, and I won’t promise something like that sweetheart” he tells you this languidly. His thumb starts to rub circles against your cheekbone, to calm you down, when he catches the way your eyes widen at his admission.  

“Steve!” your voice breaks. So shocked, you can’t hold back the tears that build up and fall slowly over your face. 

You couldn’t believe this. He’s supposed to love you. Time and time again he’d always remind you how much he loves you and how he’d do anything for you–– too hard to say no to you, his words. Thinking this over you pull your face away from his hold, looking down at your taut hands. This wasn’t a silly death wish. You had to make sure your father didn’t get what he desired, no matter what. 

He hates having to watch you cry, but he doesn’t have much of a choice now. He needs to stand his ground, there was no way he would be arguing about this. And he does this, grabbing your face with a light hand,  so you were face to face again. 

"I love you so much. And if I have to choose between letting you die and Thanos losing. Or you living and watching the universe crumble, you know exactly what I'm gonna choose. I'm not losing you, not if I have anything to do with it"

Albeit how dumb it sounded, there is no notable instance in his life where’d let you perish over him. 

“You’re not thinking this through” you hiccup.

“It’s you, isn’t it? There’s not much to think about”  he smiles at you and as you look at him you can see his eyes glazing over. 

His statement only causes you to cry more. You feel nothing but the pain in your heart and the repositioning of your body. It takes you a moment to realize you’re settled on his thighs sideways. His well built arm warmly wraps around your shoulder, your temple rests against his shoulder, and his lips are placing light kisses to the crown of your head. 

You incline your head, “I love you too much” you say in an awed whisper, raising a hand to twirl in the strands at the back of his collar. Following that, you let your hand spread across the back of his neck pulling him down for a kiss.

“After this we’re done okay? We have our pardon and are going to buy whatever house you want to get. I’m gonna buy you the prettiest engagement ring money can buy, Gonna get whatever animals you want,” you chuckle at that part.

If there was one thing Steve learned while living incognito with you is that you’d save any animal if you were able to. Always stopping whenever you passed by any animal in need in the drary streets. Looking up at Steve, who’d always have to remind you that neither of you could give it the life it deserves right now. Opting to only go to the nearest convenience store to buy whatever safe animal food in sight. 

His hand immediately clutches your face to wipe away the tears that fell without pattern. His smile grows fonder when you do the same.  “‘Can paint the house whatever we decide...maybe even get a house big enough to fit the kids we’ll have?” he tells you the last part in such a timid manner, bearing one of his hands to clutch yours. His thumb running over your knuckles at full tilt. 

The only thing you were able to give him was a stunned look. So shocked you were unable to react like a normal person. 

You squeeze his hand tight only being able to stutter a “really?”

“Of course. I want to have a bunch of small Rogers with you, wreaking havoc around our house” he admits this to you, carrying out such strong eye contact. If his hand didn’t slither down your back, supporting you up and grounding you, you’d jump in glee. 

Fuck. Neither of you had talked about this, but you were glad that you both were on the same page about his. You felt terrified but in a good way, wanting to wholly get this over with and start this dream life with Steve. 

“And this is all gonna happen, because everything is going to go well. We’re gonna win, I don’t want you thinking like that or asking me something like that ever again. Thanos will never be on our list of priorities ever again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait to start that life with you” you respond, winding your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his with force.

He pulls away without notice to place hasty kisses to your cheek, loving the giggles you emitted. Even so, the energy in the room shifts too soon when Sam knocks on the door. Steve allows him entrance. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to land Cap”

Steve responds by nodding his head once, stiffly. Letting him know he’d be out in a second. 

You get off of his thighs, so the both of you were standing chest to chest. He claps your worried face. Pulling you into him with little force, so his lips could fall to your forehead, nose, and lips. 

“Remember what I said and be safe, I love you”

“I love you” you recite, bringing his hand down to kiss his covered palm.

With that he envelops you in his arm, his cheek resting against the top of your head. Both of you breathing each other in. Your shoulders relaxing at his loving touch. 

He’d do whatever needed to keep you safe and if it ended in his death, then so be it. You’d do the same for him in a heartbeat, there was no point in either of you arguing this one out. 

––––

Everyone was tired, it seemed like this fight only dragged on with the never-ending monsters. But, with the help of Thor (of course) it seemed like things were only getting positive from there. With the way he rendered lightning, destroying things into dust, you were ready to end this once and for all.  

And when a cloud of grey smoke appeared out of thin air, and a large titanian appeared. You knew this would either be the ending or the beginning of all these troubles. 

“That’s him” you falter, turning to Steve. You give him a quick once over, nothing the way he eyed your father. A menacing, scary look on his face and the furrow of his eyebrows only grow. 

“We have eyes on Thanos” he says into the intercom.

It’s like time stands still for a few seconds, no one moves a muscle. You haven't seen this man in years. You feel as if he doesn't recognize who you are as he glances over everyone, like they're roaches in his kitchen. 

Yet, in a blur, everyone takes their chance on Thanos. Trying their hardest to somehow, someway take this Titanian down. Bruce gets thrown with a shout, Branches entwine Nat, and Sam drops from the air smoothly. 

At some point you hear the grunt of Steve, who somehow gets some punches in, his hands clutching the gauntlet. He shouts from the hefty weight and in a swift motion is stock-still on the ground from the punch he endures. 

“Steve!”

Without a choice you run towards Thanos, your adrenaline kicking in. Kicking in punching only to use your hands to grasp around the metal. You knew towards the end; you were no match for him. 

“Please! Please don’t do this. Dad please I’m begging you” you plead profusely, but he only looks down at you emotionless. “Please, please, please” you cry, your head hangs low for a bit before you raise it up again. “This won’t fix anything! You–– you…JUST TAKE IT OFF” you scream, knuckles colliding with the gold.

You try so hard to think of anything to turn his mind, but he only looks at you like a stranger. Not the little girl he recruited and used to look at with some kind of affection. His type of affection, if you could even title it that, affection. 

Sure, he raised you to be a ruthless killer and thief, but you’d do anything in this key moment to change his crooked mind. 

“You don’t get to call me that again. You chose your path...I always knew you’d be the one to let me down the most” he says all this with so much venom. 

You cry as you're lifted in the air, by his gauntlet hand, and thrown against the bark of a tree. 

You're in a daze. The only things securing you back is the hand against your cheek and a booming, choked up "no". Hearing it a distance away.

You open your eyes to see Steve in front of you, your name on his lips almost incessantly. But when you open them, your eyes quickly move to Thor. Who’s a few feet away from the two of you, shocked and angry. The remnant of smoke in the air. You knew he did it.

“We lost?” you ask Steve, tears already forming in your eyes, as he carefully lifts you to his feet.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer you, though. 

“Steve…?” It’s Bucky, You both look towards him to see him fall slowly, disappearing into a brown dust. 

You both look on, shocked all while Steve tries to drag himself and your weak body to Bucky. But it’s already too late. 

“Buck?!” Steve calls out, but there’s no answer.

You watch on in disorder, stomach plummeting with every second that pasts.  Your eyes catch Wanda looking onto Vision's body in sorrow and as you do, she turns into brown dust.  It was frightening and you were speechless. So much happening around you, you weren’t sure where to look. You weren’t who was going away. 

The hand against your spine, holding you up, starts to feel faint and a headache you had suffered from earlier comes back, but ten times stronger. 

“My head hurts” you tell him, your words come out slowly as your mouth starts to feel numb. You drop your head to his shoulder. “Stevie...I can’t feel your hands” you blubber, chest heaving as your breathing picks up. Everything was happening so, so fast. 

He lifts your head, “Hey, you’re alright sweetheart, you took a hard hit. Just a bit banged up, gotta stay awake in case it’s a concussion” he reassures you.

You don’t believe him and when you look down at your right hand to see it crumbling away little by little. You lift your wrist up, hand gone. You look down to see the brown dust below your view. 

You didn’t want to go. You had merely planned your dream future with him. It wasn’t fair your father would be the one to rip that away from you.

“No. No, you’re alright, stop that” he condemns, bringing your other hand to his bruised lips imperatively. Watching as it climbs up and up, half of your shoulder  already gone. 

“I’m scared. I love you so much Steve”

“I love you so much doll, feel like we’ve been saying it all day” he tries to joke, eyes roaming all over your face. He had to make sure he had your face recognized to a t, even if it was in a manner of pain. 

And you do the same. You weren’t sure where you were going. Were you even dying?! You couldn’t tell, all you knew was Steve and some of your friends wouldn’t be where you were going.

You laugh despondently, low, and mirthlessly knowing how much he needed that laugh at the moment.

“No. I’m gonna––” you start, but never get to finish, because at that moment. In a flash, he’s left with the sight of the soot falling in a sway, like leaves tumbling to the ground. Staring at him gloved palms to see nothing of you there any longer. 

He does nothing but stand there for a few minutes, recollecting the exchange. Not only was his best friend gone, but so was his best girl.  

He had one fucking job. Keep you safe at all times. Not only did he let the whole universe down, he let you down. You were gone. He can only think about the moment you both had on the jet, telling you, you had nothing to worry about. Because you guys were going to win and now she is gone.  He let you down in the worst possible way imaginable. You were gone…

He repeats this to himself, losing hope each time that you would be back in just a second. 

He turns around to see his friends observing him and once he notices that Sam is no longer among the group it only increases his agony. 

“Cap?” Nat mumbles.

“FUCK!” he breaks. Ripping the gloves off his hand before he sets himself against the ground–– his body feeling heavy. His head is in his hand, body heaving roughly as he cries quietly.

Everyone is stunned and takes a step back to give his face, not remembering the last time they’ve seen him this broken or the last he’s had an outburst resulting in a curse word. 

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to live with this guilt or without you by his side. In spite of that,  there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to try and find a way to bring you back.

– – – – 

realized while writing thing i am not creative...this (beginning) was literally a scene

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[smallblip]

Okay, but (sorry for my english) I just really love modern hc where they perform as the band No Name during their school festival (their identities are already known and that people know they belong to one of the most famous group in the school /with nanaba and erwin/).

Levi’s the face of the group and almost half of the fans have him as their bias but they really thinks he’s asexual or bi or even gay since they never knew anyone who had been his girlfriend and he doesn’t seem to be that person to be involved in any romance.

But then he surprises everyone when during their performance, he just grabs hange’s ponytail and kissed her deeply.

And people were just like—oh, shit, wait, what.... levi just—kissed his friend....his....friend.....Hange....the Hange

Then the crowd went wilder and even Levi’s fans just gasped with excitement because—damn that’s hot!

Even Hange herself were surprised but she couldn’t do anything since levi’s grip was too strong, lost in his own world as he ravishes her with kisses as if he doesn’t give a shit about everyone watching them

she doesn’t even know how long it lasted.

Then there’s Erwin in the crowd, capturing every moment with a camera because he’s the only one who wasn’t surprised about this

Stop the presses!

“Breaking news! Levi Ackerman frontman of No Name is having an illicit love affair!”

“It’s not breaking news if everyone already knows...” Porco rolls his eyes. Connie groans. Great. Now Porco is in his shot. The school’s journalism club is essentially him and Sasha with her phone’s camera. They do not have the skill nor the budget to edit him out.

“Who’s he dating then?” Sasha shoots back.

“Heard it’s a girl from another school.” Porco shrugs.

“Heard he’s gay...” Reiner offers.

“You just want him to be gay...” There’s sniggering and Reiner wants to punch Porco, but he’s a man of discipline, so no violence before breakfast.

“It’s just a rumour! He isn’t dating anyone! Levi’s too cool to date.” Eren says, gagging at the mention of the word. A literal child.

“Who would wanna date him?” Mikasa scoffs.

“Everyone in the school apart from you, Mikasa...” Petra says, “he’s dreamy...”

Connie urges the discussion on, Sasha capturing all of this. This is the best content they’ve gotten all week. “Come on! There are no bad answers!”

“Maybe he’s dating a fan?” Bertholdt says.

“Maybe he’s dating Hanji... They do seem rather close?” Pieck says, and the silence and scowls are intended to shame her. Connie looks at the aluminium foil on Pieck’s head. Right. The Signs movie screening organised by the conspiracy society is today.

“No bad answers except that one...” Connie says.

—

“You’re the talk of the town again...” Mike says, “they were discussing you on the school’s YouTube channel.”

Levi tsks. He doesn’t know why Mike bothers with that crap. It’s a pretty high quality production... he had justified, but there’s nothing high quality about Sasha’s shaky hands and Connie’s head covering half the frame. Everyone knows Mike enjoys the gossip, and there’s no one that enjoys it more. Except maybe Erwin.

“Do tell! Who is the enigmatic Levi Ackerman dating?” Erwin teases. He knows he’s not getting anything out of tight-lipped Levi. But it’s still worth a shot. Also worth seeing how annoyed he can get. Plus it’s not like they don’t already know.

If the canteen hadn’t been so goddamn full, Levi would’ve relocated long ago. Then again, his lunch groups hasn’t changed since his first day at school. The routine works.

“I’m sure you boys would be the first to know...” Nanaba chuckles. She had been the first to know and frankly. Levi’s inability to confess has been getting stifling. The only thing that really breaks the conversation though? Hanji tripping and landing face first on the table, lucky for her Levi moves her tray out of the way, saving her lunch, “watch it four eyes!”

“What did I miss?” Hanji asks, eyes already gleaming at the possibility of new knowledge.

“We were just talking about Levi’s illicit love affair.” Mike says. This is getting interesting.

“Awww Levi! You didn’t tell your ol’ pal Hanji that you were seeing someone?”

The rest of them exchange looks. God she’s so goddamn oblivious.

“Eat. We’ve got band practice before class.” Levi says, fingers already working to peel Hanji’s orange for her.

Nanaba winces. So goddamn oblivious.

—

“So we enter school today and Sasha what do we see?”

“Merch!” Sasha pops in front of the screen and does jazz hands with Connie.

“In the lead up to the big No Name concert, everyone’s donning their best No Name merch! First, let’s speak to the best in the game, Armin Arlert.”

Armin fidgets awkwardly, “ahaha I’m just a fan who just happens to make high quality merch.” Modest for someone earning big bucks from his enterprise.

“Ah... And you have competition this year!” Connie says into the microphone, which is really just rolled up newspaper.

“Well... The quality of my work speaks for itself...” Armin smiles sheepishly at the camera, but there’s something insidious in his eyes. Armin has to admit having sole monopoly over No Name merchandising in school has gone a little stale. Surely a little competition will spice things up.

“So Zeke, care to tell us more about your entry into the merchandise game?” Connie asks the bearded boy. Who has a full grown beard at their age? Connie makes a mental note to insert “sells bootleg merch” in the little panel that runs below Zeke’s interview. The whole school is also pretty sure Zeke had been behind the whole oregano debacle last year- someone had been passing oregano off as weed and selling it to the younglings.

“What’s there to say? Mine’s cheaper.” Zeke winks.

“So, satisfied customer. Why did you choose to buy Armin’s merch over Zeke’s?” Connie asks.

Pieck glances down at her Hanji shirt, “Armin got Hanji’s nose right.” She smiles.

In the background Armin and Eren are yelling at one another.

“How could you Eren! I thought we were best friends!” Armin says. Maybe the competition spiced things up a little too much.

“It was cheaper Armin! So much cheaper!”

Eren is wearing the ugliest shirt in school so, is it really worth it though?

—

“We are absolutely not blowing our budget on a confetti canon!”

“But Levi!” Hanji whines, “you already rejected so many of my ideas...”

“May I remind you that your previous ideas include a guillotine on stage, you repelling from the ceiling-“

“A tiger...” Mike adds and Hanji shoots him a look, traitor...

“It was two tigers...” she mutters under her breath. “Aww Levi you never let me do anything fun!” She pouts and Mike watches as Levi’s resolve slips an inch. There’s nothing more disgusting than the weakness of a man in love. Mike rolls his eyes. He had told Erwin if he wanted in on the action, he should join their band. There’s just so much to see that Mike has honestly had his fill. Or maybe he’s just saying it. Damn Nanaba was right, he enjoys this more than he’d care to admit.

“If you shut up through the next five songs, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“What about me?” Mike huffs.

“Deal!” Hanji shouts triumphantly, “and if you let me sing the chorus with you on this next song at the concert I’ll buy you dessert!”

“Almost as if I’m invisible...” Mike mutters.

“Fine... Deal... If you can hit the notes that is...”

“Ohhhh snap!” Mike says, and Levi turns to him for a high five. Mike smashes a beat on his drums. Hanji deadpans.

Ba dum fuckin tiss indeed.

—

“So it’s two days before the festival and the big No Name concert. Today, we’ve got a special treat for you. Roving reporter Jean Kirschtein will find out more about Levi’s love affair, straight from the horse’s mouth!”

Jean shoots Connie a dirty look. But the pun had not been intended. Connie mouths a quick apology before continuing, “but first, a word with the people closest to him-“ Connie nudges Jean towards the general direction of Erwin, Nanaba and Mike. Remember you owe me Jean! Connie whispers harshly when he senses his friend’s hesitation, now go!

Jean groans once more. God his reputation was going to take a hit. He’s vice captain of the soccer team for God’s sake. He doesn’t need this.

“Erwin Smith! A word? Uh... Thoughts on the rumours surrounding Levi Ackerman’s love life?” Jean asks. “Erwin Smith, football captain, history club president, student council treasurer, overall overachiever, and Levi Ackerman’s friend” appears on the screen. They all know if anyone’s likely to spill, it’s going to be Erwin.

Erwin’s eyes light up, he’s finally going on the channel he watches religiously with Mike. There’s so much he can contribute, so much gossip to share, so much insight. Maybe they would even invite him as a panelist on their show. The sheer power! He looks at Nanaba and she frowns at him and shakes her head. Ah damn it! He knows she’ll tear into him if he divulges too much.

“That’s strictly on a need to know basis.” Erwin grins.

“Well... Can you give us anything at all?” Jean asks. Please for the love of god he needs to pay Connie back somehow for setting him up on that date with Mikasa. God is generous but he can easily take it all away.

“We have good, solid guesses, but other than that... No... We can’t confirm anything...” Erwin answers, but not before glancing at Nanaba. She’s nodding. Good, that’s a good answer. Ambiguous enough to keep people wanting. Erwin is relieved. Jean isn’t however, he’s now certain that his debt is going to be rolled along a tab he will soon never be able to pay.

“Oh and the history society’s having quiz night next week, be there or be square!” Erwin plugs.

“Nerd!” Nile yells from across the hallway and Mike chortles.

It doesn’t take Jean long to find Hanji, after all she’s president of the biology club, so why wouldn’t she be in a lab elbow deep in a vat of something Jean doesn’t want to know the name of. It’s her kingdom with a whopping total of four subjects.

“Hanji Zoë, I’m here to ask for the latest on Levi Ackerman’s love life-“

Hanji Zoë- the school’s resident oddball, the genius herself, in the flesh, eating a checkerboard cookie. She looks up at him and there are crumbs on her face.

“Oh! Hi Jean!” Hanji looks up momentarily, “that’s easy, Levi’s in love with me.” She winks at Jean and chuckles. Jean’s jaw drops, surely she’s kidding. Hanji’s known for that after all- her quick wit and dismal personal hygiene. He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah... Okay...”

“See you at the concert?” She beams at him and he replies enthusiastically. Is she kidding? Everyone’s gonna be there. But Jean remains strategic, he leaves right before she gets the chance to talk his ear off about joining her club again. “Shoot... There goes another one...” she says under her breath as he exits the lab.

Jean bumps into Levi when he’s leaving the lab, odd, what’s Levi doing here, no matter, Jean has a job to do.

“Levi Ackerman! Care to comment on the recent rumours surrounding your-“

“No.” Levi interjects and heads off.

Jean flips the camera so he’s in it, “well, that’s the scoop. Back to you Connie and Sasha.”

—

“It’s the day of the festival! But really the whole school is buzzing with anticipation for the No Name concert!” Connie announces into his makeshift mic.

“Will there be another accident on-stage this time? Will Levi Ackerman reveal more on his secret romance? Is there even a secret romance to begin with? More importantly, will Porco Galliard finally pay for his own food at the festival?”

“Hey!” Porco whips his head around to glare at Connie, “did Reiner get you to say that?”

Connie shrugs, “we’ll find out after these messages...”

The concert is a blast, from a spectacular entrance (choreographed, no doubt, by one Hanji Zoë), to Mike’s drum solo, to Levi’s vocal riffs. But there’s an anticipation of another sort- will Levi Ackerman finally address the rumours of his love affair?

“My Levi-Hanji senses are tingling Nanaba...” Erwin says mid-concert. As the self-proclaimed expert on school gossip, there’s no gossip sweeter than that which surrounds his two best friends. Nanaba thinks it’s an overstatement of his abilities.

But Nanaba feels it too- the electricity in the air, “i think it’s finally happening!” She says, nothing short of a vision.

Levi announces the last song for the night, and he makes his way over to Hanji during the last chorus.

HUH?

Sasha’s cameras are rolling. She holds her breath, for what she doesn’t know, but she feels it coming, call it director’s intuition if you will.

Hanji looks at Levi and beams past the bandages over their eyes, now upgraded to a material they can actually see through, ever since that one accident with Hanji trying to execute a stage dive completely blind. It’s not fun explaining to the ER nurse how you managed to fracture your arm in so many locations.

Hanji’s expression changes to one of confusion when Levi closes the distance between them. This isn’t part of any plan. Her lips part in a gasp. The crowd falls silence, breath collectively held in anticipation. It’s happening. The most significant and exciting moment of their young lives.

What in the name of Maria, Rose, and Sheena!

Levi grabs Hanji by her ponytail and crashes his lips into hers. She forgets how to function, her guitar now hanging limp and forgotten. But her arms find their way around Levi’s neck. It’s just Mike on the drums now, roaring with laughter.

“Hell yes!” Mike exclaims and it’s captured by one of the mics, joined by Nanaba and Erwin at exactly the same time. There’s a flash from Erwin’s phone, there, immortalised in a photo forever. He knows it’ll come in handy one day. For blackmail or for a future wedding montage. Either is fine.

What just happened?

Connie’s jaw is hanging.

“Levi Ackerman and... and... Hanji Zoë?” Connie says, more for his own benefit than for his audience. Because this is Hanji they’re talking about? The Hanji Zoë? Resident evil genius, overall weirdo, oddly magnetic and popular amongst both the boys and the girls, Levi’s childhood friend Hanji Zoë? The answer had been staring them right in the face! Levi at the biology labs, Levi glowering at her, the bickering, the chemistry on and off stage.

Connie whips his head over to Pieck, and she winks at him, told you so!

“I don’t believe it! Stop the presses! Levi Ackerman, frontman of No Name, in love with the brilliant, the magnetic, the one and only... Hanji Zoë!”

Hanji is kissing Levi back with fervour, until they’re both blushing and giddy, the music long forgotten, and when everyone is done gawking, the crowd erupts in violent cheering. Who would’ve thought emotionally constipated Levi, Levi whose private life has been kept a secret for so long, safe from the prying hands of the school press and his loyal fans, would choose to make an announcement like this. What a night! What a spectacle!

“I guess that’s all for tonight folks, and what a fantastic and surprising evening it has been!” Connie laughs, “I’m Connie Springer, and you heard it here first!”

The confetti canon goes off. And Hanji watches with uninhibited joy as confetti rains down on the stage.

“So... Tigers next time?” Hanji says, unwrapping the bandages from her face, her eyes glazed over and more beautiful than anything Levi has ever seen. He scoffs, pressing another kiss to her lips for posterity.

“Don’t push it...”

(A/N: prompt so good I had to write a mini fic! Thank you anon💖💖💖)

[silverynight]

okay so maybe a prompt where the hashira are incredibly jealous because tanjiro (with long hair) only lets zenitsu, inosuke, and nezuko touch it and gets defensive when other people touch it??

like the hashira run in to visit him and they are like 🤏😩 just a crumb but tanjiro refused to be touched and THEY JUS GET ANGRY POSSESSIVE AND THEY ALL END UP BULLYING THE KAMABOKO SQUAD 😭

Sometimes Zenitsu wishes Tanjirou wasn't so... oblivious. It's actually unbelievable how someone with a nose like his can't notice almost all the hashira are really soft for him.

To Zenitsu it was upsetting at first, he used to think the attention Tanjirou got from them was because they considered him more talented than other demon slayers.

But now that he's learned how to listen clearly he knows the sound of their hearts are caused by something more personal.

The problem with the knowledge that comes from his sense of hearing is that he knows now how to see as well.

He can see that Tomioka stares fondly at Tanjirou (especially when he's not looking) and that Rengoku smiles gently, sincerely at him and listens with undivided attention to everything he has to say. Tokito is more patient with him than with any other person and certainly more willing to praise him than any other demon slayer. Uzui mentions every time that his wives miss him dearly in an attempt to get him to go to his house.

Then, Tanjirou grows his hair and the Pillars seem to be mesmerized by it. Well, it's true that Tanjirou's hair is beautiful and really soft to the touch (Zenitsu has touched it a couple of times) but he really thinks they just love everything about Tanjirou.

Now, the problem is that Tanjirou only lets Nezuko, Zenitsu and even Inosuke touch it.

He's not so sure why exactly, perhaps he doesn't trust other people enough to let them do it or maybe (and he truly believes this is what happens with the hashira) it's that sees them way superior compared to him.

Well... They are of course, the Pillars have trained for years and killed many demons with incredible strength, but that doesn't mean they don't want the same things other people want.

Maybe if Tanjirou knew how much they would love to touch or brush his hair, he wouldn't jump away the second someone offers to help him with it.

He actually enjoys having a privilege only few people have, but when Kanroji walks towards Tanjirou with a hopeful expression, staring at Tanjirou's messy, long hair falling all over his shoulders, Zenitsu starts changing his mind.

"Tanjirou! I can braid your hair if you want!"

Seeing the love hashira so close makes Tanjirou take a sudden step back. He touches his own hair, almost defensively, but smiles and bows at her.

"There's no need, Kanroji-san! Nezuko will help me!"

He doesn't notice, but Zenitsu can almost hear the crack that comes with Kanroji's broken heart.

So... He starts feeling sorry for them. Especially after seeing Rengoku's eyes filled with longing every time Tanjirou walks by and tells him he doesn't need any help with his hair. He notices the way Uzui's look follows Tanjirou's ponytail, probably thinking about adding a few pieces of jewelry to make it more flamboyant and the way Tomioka crosses his arms over his chest, almost like he wants to stop himself from even thinking about touching the young demon slayer.

However, the sorry he feels doesn't last long because then the hashira start getting annoyed at him and Inosuke for being allowed to do something they are dying for.

Zenitsu finds out they're jealous and possessive and he starts getting scared; the glares he gets don't help at all so he avoids touching Tanjirou's hair as much as he can.

But then, even Inosuke notices that Tanjirou's hair is something the Pillars crave so he starts using this knowledge in his favor.

Surprisingly, Inosuke is really gentle whenever he touches Tanjirou's hair, he used to brush it whenever Tanjirou asked him to, but now he does it every time the hashira are around.

He wants to fight one of them and he's doing an excellent job at pissing them off that Zenitsu is afraid he could get what he wants soon.

Just days later it looks like Inosuke is finally going to get his ass kicked by Shinazugawa, but Tanjirou walks in between them just in time.

"Whatever he did, I'm sure he didn't actually mean it!" He says obliviously, because he doesn't know everything is actually... because of him.

At least, the Pillars try to control themselves from then on, Zenitsu can hear the dark sounds their blood makes because they can't stop themselves from getting jealous, but they know a fight is something Tanjirou wouldn't like.

He doesn't feel sorry for them anymore... Well, sometimes. Like now that he's sitting next to Nezuko's wooden box, watching with a bit of pity how the hashira gather around a very excited Tanjirou as he tells them exactly what happened in his latest mission.

He hears the longing in their hearts and watches as, even though most of them are smiling, they're almost stopping themselves from reaching out to Tanjirou because they know (after a couple of failed attempts) that he doesn't want to be touched.

Not by them at least, which must hurt even more.

The yearning gets too intense and painful to watch that Zenitsu covers his eyes for a moment. He refuses to feel sorry, no matter how sad it is because he remembers the glares he used to get before.

"We've been through a lot. All of us."

Even though he heard her approaching, Zenitsu still gets startled when Kocho sits right next to him. The insect hashira smiles at him and he inevitably blushes in response.

"Well... You should understand. You must've been through a lot yourself, as well as your friends," she continues.

Kocho is very smart and she clearly has figured out a thing or two about what's going on.

"Tanjirou is one of the few good things that has happened to the hashira in a while," she says, still smiling softly at him. "He is truly a sunshine, don't you think?"

Zenitsu sighs, because he knows what she wants now and that he's going to give in soon. Also, she's right... Zenitsu felt like his future was completely dark until Tanjirou found him.

Of course the Pillars don't want to lose him. They want to feel connected to him and they want to show him that they care.

Almost like he forgets he is not allowed to touch for a moment, Rengoku takes a step closer and reaches out, but he lets his arm fall at his side quickly before Tanjirou realizes what's going on.

The flame hashira looks like he's in pain.

"Fine!" Zenitsu says, irritated. "I'll help them!"

"You're a good boy," Kocho mumbles, making him blush again.

She thinks this is about them, but the truth is that Zenitsu is going to help them because he believes that would be good for Tanjirou too. Because he truly cares about the Pillars.

***

Patreon