#i know he doesn’t I watched unicorn and I cry that he makes it out alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midnightloversmusic · 3 months

Note

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

374 notes · View notes

writing-mlm · 2 months

Note

Pls write dick grayson x male reader 🙌🏾🙌🏾

How can I help?

Summary: The three times you help Dick with his father issues and the one time he helps you Pairing: Dick Grayson x Male reader WC: 7.4k a/n: this went through five different plots before I landed on this one I am so sorry

He’s given his entire life to Bruce. He’s owed him as much for everything he’s put him through; taking in a rowdy, traumatized orphan and dealing with the near limitless energy he had. Then the teenage angst, he understands why Bruce kicked him out. He had to. He understands that everything he’s gotten in his life is because of Bruce.

Bruce wasn’t… he wasn’t bad. He was doing his best with what he could, after all, infinite money didn’t come with infinite wisdom. And Bruce had given Dick his best, so really, Dick should be happy. He’s better off than some orphans, most orphans really.

So why does he want to strangle him?

He doesn’t get it. He loves Bruce, he’s the closest thing to a father he currently has. But he can’t be around him, he can’t stand his voice, he can’t even think about him without being upset.

He bites harder and you wince, staring at him as he bites your shoulder. You doubt he’s even aware of it, he hardly ever is. These moments are rare with Dick, usually after he visits his father and it goes wrong. It almost always goes wrong.

The biting makes it so he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t like crying. Not because he’s a man and men don’t cry but because it makes it harder to see. To focus. His breathing gets all loud and he can’t sneak around. But with biting, none of that happens.

You rub his back as the pressure on your shoulder builds and builds. He’s nearly breaking skin before he finally pulls away and stares at the TV, more quiet than he ever has been.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters after the episode ended. Feeling his fingers wipe away the drying spit and then soothe the throbbing spot, you turn to look at him and shake your head.

“Still invulnerable,” You remind him. While yes, it hurts a little, you know it’s not going to bruise. It’s not going to do anything aside from give him some sort of healthy release. He nods, still looking at the spot. You can tell his mind is running, it doesn’t take a genius to tell that much. “Dick, I’m perfectly fine.” He looks at you, eyes red and bleary before he huffs and turns his head away. He blinks and tilts his head to the ceiling while you watch.

He doesn’t like it when you watch, it makes him feel bad. Like a burden. But you watch to make sure he doesn’t put too much pressure on his eyes when he rubs them.

“It’s not your fault.” You promise and his breath hitches. God, he wants to believe you. So badly. “It’s not your fault.” Lips pursed and a lone tear running down the side of his cheek, Dick turns to you. “It’s not—“

“Stop.” He begs. His eyes screw shut and he shakes his head. “I know— I know it’s not, I do. But…fuck man.” Pushing himself away from you, you watch as he enters the kitchen and runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t just leave him!” He nearly shouts, convincing himself as he throws open the fridge.

“You can.” You nod, eyes flickering to where he’s grabbing a water bottle.

“No,” He says through a dry laugh before taking a large gulp of water. “No one leaves Bruce.” Turning to you, Dick licks his lips. “Do you know what it’s like? Trying to run from the world's greatest detectives and his mini Batman’s?” Shaking your head he shakes his back and walks over to the couch again.

“Oracle, Red Robin, and Batman! Those three have found unicorns before. End of the rainbow pot of gold. Compared to that, I might as well have a giant sign on my head! Then he has Superman and-and Martian Manhunter. Zatanna. Constantine!” He’s nearly shouting now, hitting each finger as he rapidly lists them off.

“Have you asked him for space?” It’s the question you’ve wanted to ask him for years now. His plan is always to up and leave, his bad thoughts are to up and leave. His good thoughts are to leave a note, and then leave. But he’s never thought about that. You know because he pauses and looks at you.

“He wouldn’t…” Shaking his head, Dick lays his head on the armrest of the couch and brings his legs up to yours. “I’d just get the society needs Nightwing talk. He’d say I’m leaving behind innocent people who need me.” He angrily says into his water bottle.

“You could get amnesia,” You half seriously suggest, running your fingers along his legs. He shaves pretty religiously, something about his suit needing less friction to get on and off. “Go by Ric without the K.” At that, he snorts and looks down at you.

“I love you,” He says and you smile.

“I love you too, dude.” Groaning, he kicks your arm and sits up. You laugh and rock into him, watching as he stares at the TV. His hair falls over his forehead nicely but he shifts it back, probably out of nervous habit.

“I can’t leave Damian.” He quietly says, a deep frown forming on his face. “He’s already been through so much.”

“You all have.”

“But he spent eleven—“

“This isn’t the trauma Olympics, Dick. You all can be fucked up at the same time.” There’s a long pause in the apartment and you get up to take the cookies out of the oven. They’re his favorite, macadamia with raspberry chunks.

“You know what really sucks?” He calls and doesn’t wait for a response. “We can’t even see a therapist about this! I mean, could you imagine one of us trying to see a therapist? It’s either Harley, Dinah, or some poor civilian!”

“Why not get therapy as Nightwing and then therapy as Dick?” It feels stupid, it sounds like it should be stupid but honestly, as Dick thinks about it, it might work. The biggest issue would be separating himself from Nightwing. Being a hero has been such a big part of his identity he doesn’t know how to unassociate the two. He doesn’t even know if they’re still two separate people.

“Maybe,” He shrugs and turns back to look at you. “Can I get a cookie?” He asks, half of a frown on his face.

“They’re hot,” You shake your head and poke one of the cookies. “Give them five minutes.”

“You’re hot.” He grins.

“Still not getting a cookie.”

“Aw, man.”

—

It’s the last stretch of the day. After coming back from his detective-ing and patrolling and you coming back from the WatchTower, Dick lays his head between your legs and sighs. He likes it there, he could spend hours between your legs if he could. Truthfully, you think he likes it more when it’s nonsexual. The feeling of your thighs cupping his ears, your fingers running up and down his hair mixed with being able to get up whenever he wanted was one of the times he was most relaxed.

He sighs again, leaning his head further back as your nails drag against a spot that had been bothering him for a while now. You smile and give it extra care before exploring the rest of his hair, secretly glad he hadn’t realized he’s due for a haircut soon. The once blunt ends have dulled and you hope he doesn’t notice the starts of split ends soon. You could just repair them, right? There are shampoos for that.

Although you wouldn’t tell him, you did enjoy his mullet phase. The long hair was pre-dating but it’s what caught your attention. He only cut it the night before your first date, which was admittedly a little heartbreaking. But the shorter hair definitely was better. It worked wonders for him, really drew attention to his eyes and his smile.

Plus when he was fighting no one could grab his hair and bang his head into a wall as much.

You feel along scabs and small scars that his thick hair hides, carefully dragging your nails over it. But not too harsh that it would remove the scabs. His hands flex and tense on your thigh as you do so but the way his shoulders drop lets you know to continue. He’s close to snoring at that point, the only thing missing was the white noise he had to listen to. Sure, it annoyed the shit out of you, but it wasn’t ruining your sleep.

The room is dark with the curtains drawn and the door is closed, but there’s a video playing with the sound barely audible. It’s nothing compared to Haley snoring in the corner of the bed, though. Maybe she could be the white noise.

“Do you think…” He says, voice soft as he tries to let go of the day's pressure and just live. But he never can, you don’t think he’s ever actually just relaxed before. “Do you think I’m a good son?” He finally asks and you see the tip of his nose move as he frowns.

“A great son,” You hum, tucking some of his hair behind his ears. “Hell, I stopped speaking to my dad after he forgot my birthday three years in a row.” You laugh.

“You had a reason, though,” He shakes his head. “I owe Bruce—“

“Adopting a child doesn’t mean you’re owed shit.” You tell him and carefully sit up, now staring down at him. “He chose you, he doesn’t get to hang it over your head like some sword. And you shouldn’t either, one good choice should never negate years of building resentment.” He frowns and stares at you until you sigh. “How about this? You go to family therapy, you did say Bruce is different now.”

“He is,” Dick nods, guiding your hands back to his hair. “I know he’s a good dad but sometimes he sucks.” He blinks, briefly staring at you before he closes his eyes. It’s clear he wants to continue the conversation but he can’t bring himself to say anything else. His mind is a fog and he doesn’t truly want it to clear out. He doesn’t want to face reality just yet.

“Is this a bad time to mention that I have to shit?” He snorts and nods, eyes still closed as he gets up. He watches as you scramble out of the room, nearly waking Haley up in the process. He follows after you like a lost dog, his feet slapping against the freshly mopped floors.

He doesn’t want to be alone, he knows it’s probably not healthy to be so attached he couldn’t fathom going twenty minutes without seeing you while you’re in the same apartment but he can’t. At least, not right now. He can’t be alone with his thoughts and if he has to deal with them, he wants to at least look at you. Touch you in some way.

“We’re at the stage where you watch me shit?” You joke as he opens the door and sits on the edge of the tub. You don’t mind as much as you thought you would, not with Dick slowly sinking into the tub and getting rid of his shirt, and then pants. He throws his shirt at you to get your attention when you’re nose-deep in your phone. Unaware of his actions.

“Bath?” He grins, the sound of him slapping his thighs echoing in the bathroom.

“I’ll get the bubbles,”

The bath is nice, the water is cold against Dick’s aching muscles and you’re staring at him from the opposite end of the tub. Well, as best as you could with the lights dimmed and the occasional phone screen illuminated on the counter. He’s messing with the bubbles, creating beards and blowing them at you. Making sure you can’t move away by locking his ankles behind your back, he watches as you wipe the bubbles from your mouth.

Spluttering them out, you grab your own handful and smush it against his face.

You both laugh and sink further into the water. He’s down to his chin, his knees awkwardly sticking out of the water while the water is just up to your chest.

“I think I’ll talk to Bruce about therapy,” He says as the laughter is nothing but a memory on the tiled walls. The bubbles slowly popped around him and the water gradually got warmer. He nervously drags his hand down your leg and then slowly up again until he reaches your thigh and stops.

“I know some family therapist,” You softly tell him and he nods. “I think Dr. Sampson would be good for you two. She does virtual and in-person, flexible for the most part.” That’s good. He doesn’t think Bruce would let Brucie Wayne get seen walking with his eldest child into a therapist's office.

“Thank you.” He says as he reaches over and pulls you onto him. Water splashes over the side of the tub and some gets in your eyes but you blink it away. “I’m so in love with you,” He says, unable to look at anything but your eyes.

“I love you, too.”

—

It’s a calm Sunday when your door flies open, it bangs against the wall and you’re almost sure there’s a dent where the knob hit. But it’s neither here nor there as you hear Dick shouting in Romani. Whatever’s happened, he’s beyond upset so you abandon your work and meet him on the couch.

The shouting stops when he sees you and he frowns. It’s deep and etching in his skin. You offer him a welcoming smile as his nose turns red and his lip quivers.

“What happened?” You ask, guiding him to the couch. With your hand on his back, you can feel that he’s shaking. Instead of replying, he shakes his head and collapses onto the couch, his head in his hands. His fingers thread through his hair, pulling and grasping randomly until he moves his hands around his torso and finally looks at you.

“I killed Joker,” He finally says. The house is silent as you stare at him, eyes flickering across his face as his breathing goes jagged and he gags. “I…fuck,” He looks at you and you look back at his eyes. “I fucking killed him!” He repeats but this time it seems like shock has washed over him. That he’s the character in a movie, holding a household item turned murder weapon and the dead body is right in front of him.

“What… why?” You ask, a million questions running across your mind.

“I thought he killed Tim,” He shakes out, his eyes closed as he remembers what happened. “I thought he killed Tim, he had this illusion of Tim. He looked so much like Jay’s after he killed him. And I… I couldn’t lose another sibling to him.” You notice he’s flexing his hands and staring at them, noting the bruises on his knuckles. Parts of his skin is ripped, like he’s been licking at the bruises and scrapes to make them into cuts.

“I lost control,” He croaked out. A sob travels up his body but he forces it down and presses the balls of his hands into his eyes.

“Does Bruce know?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“Just Tim and Babs. And you,” That’s good, heaven knows how Bruce would react.

“Well,” You huff. “Joker was going to die anyway. He deserved it.” There’s nothing you can— want to do about it now. Sure, there’s definitely a way to bring someone back to life but… the Joker doesn’t deserve it. What you can do now, is comfort your boyfriend.

“We don’t kill!” Dick looks at you. He’s been crying for a long while now, you can see the stains on his cheeks and the redness of his eyes. “Killing is the one thing B doesn’t stand for.” If you could, you’d tell Dick every single issue you have with Bruce. The hypocrisy in his rules, and the moral high ground he puts himself on is fake and it sucks that everyone seems to go along with it.

But you don’t. Now isn’t the time for your personal qualms with his father.

“One death,” You tell him, pulling him closer to you. “Is nothing compared to what Joker has done. He’s killed Jason, he’s paralyzed Babs, he’s killed over a thousand people. And Bruce doesn’t have to know. I doubt Tim or Babs is going to be telling him.” He nods at the last part. Out of everyone he knows, he knows his siblings and Barbra wouldn’t tell Bruce that. They’d hold that secret like no other.

That calms him down. Aside from them, the only person who could possibly know was a god. And he doesn’t think he’s pissed any off as of late. There weren’t any cameras, no one was around for blocks. Not even a single church mouse knows.

Now came the hard part. Life after killing Joker, pretending to not know where the Joker was.

He’d just left the body there but he knows they got rid of it. And he doesn’t want to know the details, the less the better. He’s afraid he’d somehow give Bruce hints during their weekly therapy sessions.

“I’m sorry about your wall,” He mutters into your shoulder and you peer at the wall. The dent is small, just the center of the knob left an imprint so it’s nothing five minutes can’t fix.

“I’ve put bigger dents,” You tell him with a dismissive wave. You haven’t. There’s never been a singular dent in your walls, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Can we…” He shakes his head as he thinks. “Do something tonight? Anywhere really, anything but sitting in silence.”

“Yeah,” You nod, turning your body to face him and tucking his hair behind his ear. “Anything you want, baby. How about we drive up to my sisters for the week? She’s having a family thing… I would’ve invited you either way. Besides, if we stay for a week instead of the weekend you will not get any peace and quiet.” You laugh knowing that her kids love Dick. Always asking him to do tricks and teach them.

He agrees and promises to be ready in an hour.

There are thankfully no hitches in your plan. Dick had already taken time off from work, your sister didn’t mind that you’d be coming to visit five days earlier than expected, and there was no traffic during your five-hour drive. The two of you didn’t talk much, instead, you took turns blasting music and listening to various podcasts. Occasionally, one of his siblings would call when they realized he’d left Gotham without prior warning but he’d tell them it’s a family thing with you.

—

Thetford was a small town in Orange County, Vermont. Population, less than three thousand people. It was perfect for your sister who dreamed of two things and two things only. Peace from cities and a nice large farm-style home.

In the distance, you see the roof of her home and slow down, with no one else on the road you’re not putting anyone in danger.

“Ready?” You ask him. He licks his lips and nods. “Because I can always drive into town, ask her if she needs anything.” Again, he nods and looks at you.

“I’m okay, really.” Dick swears. “I promise.” Nodding, you hold his hand and kiss the back of it. He smiles and squeezes your hand back.

Your brother-in-law is already in the garage, grabbing some items from his workshop, and waves you inside. With a three-car garage, there’s more than enough space for your car next to their minivan. He is basically the modern-day Romeo Vasquez. At least that’s what your sister says, you still haven’t seen any of his movies.

He helps you with your and Dicks bags despite your insistence that you don’t need any help. But he quickly leaves the two of you in the basement when he hears one of the babies crying.

The basement is nice; a washer and dryer under the stairs, a small living room with various game systems, a bathroom, and a bedroom. You’ve spent enough time down there that you just toss yourself into the bed while Dick stands at the doorway.

There’s two exits, one that leads to the house and the other to the backyard. It locks from the inside so no one can enter through there but she gives you a key anyway. He sees the small windows at the tops of the walls and it reminds him that the house was built on a slope. The front of the basement is smaller than the back, which is probably why the washer and dryer are over there.

“Should we go and check on them?” He asks, ridding himself of his sweater. Shaking your head, you roll onto your side and look at him.

“They’ll come down soon enough,” He hums and lays down next to you. Looking over his face, your eyes naturally land on his hair where you start playing with strands. In your sister's house Haley isn’t allowed on the bed, so she’s laying right below Dick, trying her best to look at him.

His hair sprawls across the pillow like he’s in a Studio Ghibli movie. Thankfully, he still hasn’t cut it. He watches you as you play with his hair, biting his lip and carefully touching the scraps on his hands. It’s too quiet for him, he can’t enjoy the peace with you. No matter how badly he wants to.

“Can we see the kids?” He asks almost tightly. You nod, kissing his cheek and guide him upstairs with Haley quick on his heels.

—

The week is filled with watching children and helping prepare for the upcoming family gathering. Dick is good with the kids and making sure things are strung up, climbing in trees and up to the gutters of the home while you’re better with nailing the umbrella into the dirt and carrying the chairs into the backyard.

He’s thrown up a bit throughout the days, normally during stretches where no one is doing anything. He nearly strangles you as you sleep, holding you so tight you’re worried for him but it’s calmed down as the week continues on. Especially after his latest session with his father.

He seems happier, actually sitting down and enjoying the quiet of your sister's home. The two of you go on walks at night, using the basement key to avoid waking anyone up. Every morning you wake up to clips of the two of you walking sent by your sister.

Haley loves it, she’ll run ahead and wait for the two of you, sometimes she’ll run into large piles of leaves and then run around with sticks she finds.

But he’s noticed how you’ve been getting as the week continues. As the realization you’re going to be seeing a lot of your family for the first time in a while dawns on you, you get more fidgety. You’ve needed to be doing something at all times. Fixing things that don’t need to be fixed, volunteering to clean the kids' rooms, the bathrooms, and even raking all of the property. It took nearly five hours, but you did it.

Then, you’d spend hours in the bathroom. Shaving, styling your hair, brushing your teeth to the point your gums hurt. You’ve stopped letting him into the bathroom with you, locking it behind you. Late at night, when you think he’s sleeping, he hears you throwing your hair products. Once, it got so bad you had to wake your sister. He watched as you spent nearly two hours talking to her in the backyard.

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not used to comforting you. Sure, he comforts Damian, Tim, Jason, Kori, Cassandra, and basically everyone else he knows but never you. You’ve never needed reassurance before; always being his shoulder. It’s a little selfish to think so, but it makes him feel like a bad boyfriend.

Even more so when he can’t pull his big boy pants up and ask you what’s bothering you. Instead, he thinks and theorizes. He is a detective, after all.

It’s the day of the reunion when you feel him kissing your back. You never sleep with a shirt since you always end up with your back all sweaty. He trails up from your shoulder blades, carefully trailing up to your jaw, and then shifts to kiss your cheek.

“Dick,” You hum and he hums back, his free hand rubbing circles on your hip. “It’s early.”

“I’m not doing anything,” He reassures but drags you onto him. “Besides, it’s almost seven.” He says it like you’ve slept all day and it's past an acceptable time to be sleeping still. Blinking, you sigh through your nose and sit on his lap, slowly running your hands down his stomach. It’s more out of habit than anything else.

“Fine.” He grins. “But you’re showering first.” He frowns but nods and you roll off of him, watching as he grabs his clothes from the dresser and heads into the bathroom. Meanwhile, you take a nap.

A part of you knows he wanted to shower together, but you couldn’t. You wanted to shower in water so hot it’s actually dangerous and he hates anything above a light steam. Something about it being bad for his skin.

This time, you’re woken up much more rudely. With three children shaking you, you groan and throw the blanket over your head, ignoring their shouts and calls for your name until Dick suggests taking the blanket off.

“I’m up!” You shout, glaring at Dick as he grins. He ushers the kids out, promising to teach them how to do a barrel roll in the basement living room. Begrudgingly, you start your day and meet Dick in the kitchen. He’s in his head a little, probably because there’s a clown on the TV being called a classical joker but he’s still attentive with the kids.

You’re helping your sister's husband with making breakfast, something light since lunch and dinner will virtually be an all-you-can-eat buffet for the family.

Dick joins in when the kids pick a show, cleaning the dishes and staring at you for far too long as you’re watching the eggs cook. You don’t look happy, he finds the longer that he stares at you. You look distant and at one point you look at the ceiling and blink.

He thinks and thinks, but he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what type of comfort you need.

His hand finds yours as you finish up and your sister takes over. He brings you to the couch and just sits with you and it seems to work as you lay your head on his shoulder and hug his arm. But it doesn’t last long, as the kids finish eating and the doorbell rings.

You remove yourself from him and look at your sister. She checks her phone and nods so you take his hand again and drag him down to the basement.

“Who’s that?” He stupidly asks as you toss yourself onto the couch and curl up in the corner. Watching as he sits next to you, you look at the black screen.

“My parents,” You sigh. “My father really, they’re divorced.” He nods. Sure, he’s met your sister a bunch and some cousins but never your parents. He knows the names of aunts and uncles, gossip about family members he’s never met and plenty of birthday wishes from them, but he doesn’t know them.

“Oh,” He blinks. And you nod. “Are they…?”

“Powers? No,” Rolling to your side, you stare at him. “They don’t know either.” He nods again. “I’m sorry… did you want to meet my dad?”

“We’ll meet later,” He dismisses.

Later comes two hours after your father arrives. Your mother and some other family arrive at the same time and you’re forced by self peer pressure to make an appearance. With them all in the backyard and you can see around twenty people have arrived and the dread creeps back in. You don’t know why but you feel like you might throw up so you rush into the bathroom.

He heads out first, you’re still in the bathroom but you don’t tell him to wait so he goes. He sees your sister and goes to her side, she’s talking to everyone who’s there. They all decided to sit at the same table so it made greeting them much easier.

“This a friend?” Your grandfather asks, eyeing Dick up and down.

“(Y/n) roommate,” Your father answers through a grit. He doesn’t know if he should correct him or not, if it would ruin the whole thing so he just smiles and introduces himself. He uses Richard for them, he remembers that they don’t like curse words from anyone not considered an adult. So anyone below forty.

You enter the backyard sometime later and immediately find Dick. He’s at the table with your family, chatting with your aunts. It grosses you out for a moment, seeing the way they stare at him but you push it down and walk up from behind him. It’s almost on purpose how you ignore your father and stand behind Dick, messing with his hair as he talks.

He pulls up the chair next to him and you sit, greeting your family.

Everyone talks while Dick listens, the conversation moving to what you’ve been up to. You don’t post on Facebook so they have next to no information on how you’ve been doing, so you fill them in on your jobs and stuff until the other guests arrive.

Soon enough, everyone is there and the party is in full swing. Music plays and food is being served. Kids run around the backyard and play in the pool but you’re sitting around some of your cousins and their parents.

They’re talking about random things, mostly. Some of your cousins are already married, showing off their spouses and rings with subtle jabs at their significant others with their issues. A ‘can’t clean up after themselves’ or a ‘doesn’t know what a diaper is’ is thrown around a couple of times. One of them is pregnant with twins and another is talking about their child going to college soon.

You feel like the odd one out. Although you’ve never put a timeline on your relationship, nor have any real desire for children or marriage; it would have been nice to have some leg in their conversation. Instead, you give everyone their congrats and continue to drink.

The conversation moves into more conversations you can’t relate to and you find yourself hungry, quietly asking Dick if he wants to grab something to eat. He agrees and the two of you head over to the food table and pile some stuff on.

“What’s this?” He asks, pointing his fork at the chitlins in a smaller bowl.

“Nasty is what it is,” You quietly laugh. “Pig intestines.” He nods at the answer and moves along. Your plate is done, stacked up to a point that might be unsafe with a fresh can of soda in your other hand.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks as he’s piling collard greens onto his plate.

“I’m fine,” You nod. “Wish there was better music but I’m fine.”

“No,” He shakes his head and looks at you. “Are you okay? Is there something I can help you with? You were jumping to leave the group and you’re drinking a beer.”

“I’m fine,” You nod again. “Just normal family things… I swear.” He sighs and you sigh back. “Truthfully, I hate being around my dad. And I feel weird being here, I can’t relate to them.”

“Because of us?” He asks and you laugh, quickly kissing him. He leans in for a deeper one but you push him back and he frowns, eyes on your lips.

“Because my job is going to space and saving aliens and their jobs are school teachers and office jobs. And I can’t relate to changing diapers or arguing with my wife— well, boyfriend.”

“Oh,” He turns back to adding food to his plate. “Well, you can say you’re a baker. That’s a normal job that you kind of have.”

“True,” Looking over the yard, you see nearly everyone is staring at you. They look away quickly and you clear your throat, waiting for Dick to finish up before heading back to your group.

“Uncle Richie,” Mickey, your sister's oldest child, says as he walks over with a popsicle stick and most of it smeared on his white shirt. God, if the place hadn’t been silent before, it’s silent now. You’re aware of the stares your way, even though Mickey is oblivious to most of it.

“Yeah, Mick?” He greets, ruffling Mickey’s hair.

“Did you make Uncle (Y/n) gay?” He asks with his head tilted while you snort into your drink.

“Did I… what?” Repeating the question, Dick looks at you with red ears and help me eyes.

“I been gay, Mick.” You tell him. “Why?” Mickey shrugs and bites the popsicle.

“Grandpa said not to tell you he said that Uncle Richie made you gay.” Your cousins around you chuckle and you have to bite your lip.

It’s not surprising. The man who forgot your birthday because he already had five kids before you didn’t know much about your life. He never really wanted another kid, he dotted on your older siblings and gave them everything they ever wanted. You were more of an afterthought, the kid shoved into the attic because that was the only space available. The kid who found a strange monster in the dark attic that gave him magical powers and became even stranger to his father.

“I won’t tell him,” You swear and Mickey nods before running away.

“He told your family were roommates,” Dick finally admits. “I didn’t know what to say so I just… didn’t say anything.”

“It’s fine,” You shrug. It’s not fine, but you don’t want to dwell on your issues. Today isn’t about you, this trip isn’t about you. You should try and enjoy yourself.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your uncle asks, pointing his beer at Dick. “We should’ve been chewing him out! Not sharing stories!” The others agree and you apologize with a smile.

“I thought you guys knew,” You shrug.

“Well,” Your grandmother says from behind you and you jump. “Tell us about your boy toy.” She nods her chin in Dick’s direction and he laughs.

It doesn’t take long for the adults to gather around you and basically shove you and Dick into each other. You’re a bit embarrassed at the attention, choosing to shove your mouth with food while everyone asks their questions.

Your father is notably absent, he’s off walking around with a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t do gay stuff, you think. He tends to avoid it at all costs. Your mother isn’t there either, but she tends to avoid you so it’s not shocking.

“You said your name is Richard?” Your grandfather asks and Dick nods. “How long y’all been dating?”

“Couple years,” You answer.

“Long enough for a ring?” One of your aunts asks, eyes raised at Dick. You look at him too, sure this isn’t a great time to finally talk about that but, hey, why not.

“Definitely,” He nods. There are a couple of others and haha from them.

The conversations continue and he watches as you’re more relaxed now. The beer is gone, taken over by the ants who drown in it. You’re happily talking, catching up, and showing pictures. He stares at you so long, so hard, that the others notice and point it out. They call him smitten, and consider you lucky that you’ve found someone who seems to worship the ground you stand on.

But in truth, Dick doesn’t think he does enough. He thinks back to the times you’ve dropped everything for him, how you’ve learned him inside and out, defended his feelings about his father, and he wishes he could’ve been a fraction of that boyfriend to you.

He loves you, a whole lot. But he knows he doesn’t really show it. Not as much as he’d like to, anyway.

He kisses the top of your head and you stare at him, confused. He just smiles and leans close to you, resting his head on yours.

“Can he fight?” One of your sister's husbands asks and you laugh. He’s been in the family for as long as you’ve been alive, you used to have a crush on him growing up.

“Joel is a boxer,” You explain to Dick. “He likes to fight the family's boyfriends.”

“A test?” He asks and you give a noncommittal nod. “Okay.” He agrees and Joel looks at you, none of the boyfriends have seemed excited about it before. You just hold your hands up. “I mean,” Dick starts as he stands up. “It’s only fair, Damian tried to stab you when he found out.” He did stab you, but your skin just ended up breaking the blade so he called a truce until he could find something that harms you. It was a long day when he found out it was copper.

“Make space,” Joel makes a motion at everyone to push back and everyone scoots back while Dick stretches.

“Should I take my shirt off?” He asks, plucking at his white shirt.

“Please do,” You grin and he winks, taking it off in one motion. You chuckle, giddy as his back muscles flex while he watches Joel take his shirt off. Dick twists, seeing if his belt is too tight and takes that off too.

“If y’all break up—“ Your cousin whispers to you and you smack her arm. “Just saying.”

“Should I watch your face?” Joel teases. “Pretty boy, ain’t you?”

“I’ve been told,” Dick shrugs. “But I doubt you could land a hit on it.” Again, your family eggs the situation on and you watch as they fight. It’s mostly playful, until Joel pins Dick down and he looks at you. He doesn’t want to hurt Joel, he’s almost fifty but Joel is a professional and definitely has had worse than Dick’s play fighting. You nod and watch as he wraps his legs around Joel’s body, slamming him to the ground in less than a second.

“Did I mention I’m an acrobat?” He asks once he’s on top.

“And flexible?” Your cousin whispers again. You chuckle and look at him, you’ve always liked watching him fight. The way he and his family fight tends to look nice. You’ve never seen a better-looking fight than when they fight each other.

But god, without a shirt it’s so much better. A little too good, you quickly find out. Taking one last sip of your drink, you excuse yourself and head back to the basement but Dick stops you at the door.

“Did I go too far?” He whispers, holding you close. “I tried holding back.” He adds, kissing your neck.

“No,” You clear your throat. “I just uh… got excited?” He peers over your shoulder and laughs, watching as you open the basement door and flick him off.

“I can help,” He offers, following after you.

“And have my family know we fucked? No!” Closing the bedroom door, you grab the box of tissues and lotion before heading into the bathroom.

“Lotion and tissues is so middle school,” He calls after you.

“Fuck off!” You call back. “Stupid ass— why’d you take your shirt off?” You groan.

“It’s my fault?” He laughs.

“Yes, clearly!” You shout back. He snickers and listens as you finish and wash your hands. “Not a word about this,” You tell him as you exit the bathroom, avoiding looking at him.

“Damn,” Joel laughs as Dick joins the group again. “You’re fast.”

“Pretty slow to me,” You cough and Dick looks at you, hands on his hips. You stare back at him, daring him to make a comment.

“Slow?” Joel asks. “Let’s see you do better. You know he couldn't carry a gallon of milk until he was fourteen?” He asks Dick.

“I was twelve,” You angrily correct and stand in front of Dick. “Take your seat, man. Telling him my business.” Joel raises his arms and takes your seat.

“Watch the face,” Dick tells you. “My boy likes me pretty,” He winks.

“I sure do.”

Your family watches as you fight, each punch looking more real than the last until you swipe his legs from under him and pin him. It’s a low mount, so as he’s blocking a punch, he bucks his hips and you go forward until you plant your hands on either side of his head and stop your fall.

“Always the low mounts,” He shakes his head as you’re laughing. “You gotta go high, baby.”

It’s decided amongst the group that it’s a tie and you sit on the arm of his chair as the night continues. At some point during the fight, your father had joined back and sat weirdly in the middle. The kids have calmed down and dragged their chairs to the odd spots between the adults or gone to sleep inside the house.

Eventually, you go inside the house to grab some more ice for the coolers and see your mother exiting the bathroom. She hasn’t really spoken to you, she hasn’t said much to you your entire life. You think she feels guilty about letting your father treat you like that, or guilty for even bringing you into that environment. But you don’t care, if she puts the effort you put the effort back.

You don’t hate her, despite what she may think. You think she’s a little sad, pitiful almost. And that’s honestly so much worse than hating her.

“Hey,” She smiles at you, rubbing her arms. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” You nod. “You?” She nods and sighs. There’s not much to say. She has some new boyfriend who cares about her, some job she sort of likes, and you can’t talk about your life.

“Richard seems nice,” She says and you smile. It makes her smile more. A real smile.

“He’s amazing,” You tell her. Hauling the ice bag over your shoulder, you leave the awkward conversation and dump the ice into the water cooler in the middle of the conversation circle.

Your seat was still taken by Joel, so you’re pulled onto Dick’s lap. He’s a bit chattier than usual, but the conversations are ones he enjoys so you aren’t surprised. Looking around, you see your father staring at you. He’s finally looking at you with something other than disinterested— disgust.

He’s the only one in the family who feels that way, which is odd. He didn’t grow up hating gay people, maybe he just knew you were gay and hated you so by extension— gay people too. Anything that reminded him of you became tainted and for whatever reason, you’ll never know the real reason why.

You stare back, daring him to say something. Twenty-odd years, nearly thirty of building resentment and you’ve never acted on it. Never spoke on it. Never once have you told anyone the depth of your hatred for him. Dick knows the surface, he knows the kid version of why poor (Y/n) doesn’t speak to his father anymore.

The birthdays were inconsequential compared to everything else.

Your father blinks, his eyes flickering to Dick before they look him up and down. Whatever he’s thinking, whatever is running through his mind is wrong. He can’t fight Dick. He’s not smarter. He’s not richer. He’s not taller. He’s not more built. He’s not better. He’ll never reach the level that Dick has. In any matter.

He looks back at you, eyes boring into your soul. The glare is nothing, you’ve stared at Thanatos, Darkseid, and world crushers before. Comparatively, he’s the dirt under your boots.

“Am I a cancer or taurus?” Dick whispers and you look at him, confused. “Your cousin is asking everyone their signs.” He explains.

“You’re a Pisces,” You correct and he thanks you, laughing at his forgetfulness. Nodding, you lay your head on his chest and let the chatter around you become your own white noise.

Meanwhile, Dick smiles down at you before staring at your father with a glare. He flexes his hands and your father’s eyes dip down to his knuckles. Dick can tell he sees the bruises and the cuts even if they’re beginning to fade away. Your father gulps and looks away, completely turning his body away from the two of you and Dick returns to his conversation like nothing happened.

And that’s what he wanted.

#x male reader #x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x you #richard grayson x reader

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queermediaanysis · 11 months

Text

How Izzy’s Death Could’ve Made Basic Storytelling Sense

Just to be clear, Izzy is my favorite and I wanted him to live more than anything. This isn’t about that, and that is NOT why I hated his death. Had it served the narrative in a way that made even the most basic storytelling sense, while I’d admittedly have been devastated in a different way (i.e. the character whose queerness was relegated to the subtext in s1 and as soon as it’s textual and his whole arc is that he’s killed, but that’s a whole separate post…), but at least there would’ve been a correctly crafted arc from a surface level narrative standpoint that ended in the death of my favorite character. But that’s not what this is about. It’s is about how the show could’ve actually made the death actually make sense and work effectively. (Also, if you want my unasked for thoughts on how most of the existing plot of s2 (minus 7-8) could’ve easily been adjusted to fix the narrative as a whole and keep Izzy alive, I wrote this)

But. For those in the fandom insisting that Izzy HAD to die, including DJenks who has said as such in interviews (for reasons I do not understand), from an objective developmental editor standpoint, this is what I think needed to change to make Izzy’s death serve the narrative, character arcs and dynamics, pacing, structure, and thematic elements correctly.

It’s about 2K words just so you know what you’re gonna get into. Spoilers under the cut.

Issue 1. Izzy’s relationship with the crew and how they truly became his family this season totally vanished during his death scene. The same crew who he protected from Ed during the later, worse parts of the Kraken phase. The crew who banded together to save his life by hiding him from/lying to Ed about it, and amputating his leg to save him. The crew he saved by crawling up those stairs during the storm, hobbling out into the rain with one leg and shooting Ed before he could shoot a cannon ball through the mast and kill them all. The crew who called him “our dick”. The crew that then banded together with Stede’s half of the crew to him the leg and the new unicorn (aka the figurehead of the ship). That crew didn’t cry a SINGLE tear when he died. What?? Fang sobbed most of episode one and really lost it when Izzy got shot. Where was that when he died?? Izzy’s last speech to Ricky had something along the lines of: piracy is about belonging/family. We are Good. (Forgive me, I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist). Izzy truly did find his family in the crew outside of Ed. That was absolutely fantastic, especially in the first four episodes and episode six. It VANISHED when he was dying and dead.

The fix: To make the death impactful, effective, or even to make it make sense on a very basic acting and writing level, the crew should’ve been utterly DEVASTATED. At least heartbreaking music and like 30 seconds of everyone breaking down and holding each other. At least some of them crying and holding each other in the background when he was dying. Come on.

Issue 2. Thematically speaking, is piracy Good or Bad? Again, Izzy tells Ricky that they (the pirates/his crew) are capital G Good. Yet Ed has spent a lot of time maintaining piracy is capital B Bad. He tells the urchins as such. Here’s some money that I never had, now you don’t have to be pirates. Don’t be pirates. He doesn’t want Stede to kill Ned Low in cold blood. Ed just doesn’t want to be a pirate. Even at the end AFTER Izzy dies telling Ed he’s with his family (implied that this is the crew) and they love Ed, Ed LEAVES THAT FAMILY AND LEAVES PIRACY IMMEDIATELY. We’re left with him and Stede watching the family Izzy swore was Good and loved Ed sail away because Ed thinks piracy is Bad. Which is it?? The death served nothing in convincing Ed he could be happy with his found family on the sea as Ed, not Blackbeard, so the dying words were pointless. The thematic elements are all over the place (for the whole season but that’s another post) and that needs changing to make the death scene make sense.

The fix: Izzy should’ve told him he sees he doesn’t want to pirate anymore, he’s glad he’s found love with Stede because Izzy isn’t going to make it, go run your fokkin’ inn, you twat (affectionate).

Issue 3. Izzy died of bad planning and bad luck. Why didn’t they take the gun from Ricky? Between Spanish Jackie, Izzy, and Jim, SOMEONE would’ve thought about it. If not those three, someone else would’ve, but come one. One if not all of those three would’ve known better. Yeah, Izzy happened to be standing in front of Ed and he got shot instead of him, but you’ve gotta be REALLY looking for that to even be aware it’s what happened. It wasn’t even on purpose unless Ed strategically placed himself behind Izzy (which I doubt was the intent). Izzy didn’t position himself protectively/take the bullet for anyone on purpose. It was just happenstance and you only notice it if you’re rewatching and hyper-analyzing everything (which a lot of us, me included, in the fandom do, but casual watchers don’t. It’s totally unclear as far as the surface level narrative goes) Any sort of “heroism” is not acknowledged, it’s barely even noticeable in the shot. If that was the intent, it HAD to be clearer and acknowledged by the characters so the audience would realize the stakes and repercussions of clear choices. As it is, I don’t think it was intentional. If Izzy HAS to die, it should truly have rounded out his arc in a way that CLEARLY changed the course of the scene, leaving him to protect people he’d put in danger at the end of s1. It didn’t. It just read as terrible planning to the point of it being out of character for more than one character, and bad luck.

The fix: Izzy should’ve saved someone. I personally don’t like the idea of it being Ed. I’s have rather he save Stede (Not really, but it’s better than Ed I guess) But really Izzy should’ve died saving the crew. The crew makes the most sense to me, narratively speaking. He’s their figurehead, he’s protected the Kraken Crew for months and they should’ve been fiercely loyal to him, he blames himself for what Ed did to them (more on this later) so it makes sense for him to fiercely protect his crew. His family. Who should’ve been devastated that it happened because Izzy is the one character of the main three who’s managed to earn that status this season.

Issue 4. The death did not serve to move the plot along. There are literally zero things that would’ve been different for the end of the episode, save Izzy being alive and on the Revenge in his rightful role he earned with his crew as the captain, if he’d have lived. Ed and Stede aren’t partnering with Zheng to go after the guy who killed him in the next season. Nope. They got the offer but nah. They’re running an Inn. Which Izzy would’ve supported based on literally everything we’ve seen from him in episodes 5-8. The crew who Izzy protected fiercely and who viewed him as their leader? Not one tear during his death or the the funeral. Happily sailing away to do presumably more Muppet Treasure Island hijinks. No character development happened. No plot development happened. The season could’ve ended literally the EXACT SAME WAY with Izzy alive aboard the Revenge!!! No stakes were changed at all. No one was impacted enough for it to seem like it was even going to be a plot obstacle next season. It just happened, Izzy’s toxic situationship who maimed him multiple times over the course of months to the point of his leg needing to be amputated was sad for one (1) scene, then we moved on and did not seem sad at all at the funeral. What.

The fix: The plot should’ve been driven by the death. Ed and Stede (but especially Ed), and DEFINITELY the crew should’ve been sailing off plotting to avenge the death and defend piracy against Ricky and the British, especially with Zheng who lost her whole fleet. Ricky and the British are clearly (or so I hope, nothing’s clear here anymore tbh) the primary antagonist for the theoretical third season. No one should be running an whim-based inn for fun or sailing off happily into the sunset after the death of the most major character aside from Ed and Stede, who beyond proved himself a major part of something every character (his family) should’ve cared about this season. If he HAD to die, that death should have furthered the plot. But instead, it seems everyone shrugged it off with tears exclusively from Ed.

Issue 5. Izzy got shot in the left side. The side in which canonically NO ONE DOES FROM BEING INJURED ON IN THE OFMD UNIVERSE.

The fix: Yeah I know this is just too nit-picky but it was also just SO sloppy. Like just shoot him on the other side if he has to die, because this was a very memorable plot point more than once in s1. Like, come on y’all.

Disclaimer: Issues/fixes 1-5 would all need to happen together to truly fix it and make the death serve the narrative correctly. Issue/fix 6 is a totally separate route, which I personally hate, but at least the narrative would’ve made sense this way.

Issue 6. The idea that Izzy had to die so that Ed could be free of Blackbeard makes no sense at this point in the story. Ed already threw away his leathers and gave away his treasure to symbolically get rid of Blackbeard, and Izzy very sweetly encouraged him to follow the feeling that throwing out the leathers gave him. Izzy told Stede that he and Ed were good for each other. They balance each other out. Izzy is on good terms with both of them and their relationship, so Izzy “having to die” so Ed could flourish as Ed genuinely makes no sense and came totally out of left field.

The fix for 6: This one stands alone and is my absolute least favorite option, but if it HAD to happen without the 1-5 fixes, here’s how it could’ve made sense. If THIS is truly the way it was going to end, Izzy needed to be continuously antagonistic or avoidant to at least Ed and actually be shown holding Ed back from happiness until that last second. He wasn’t. He was so much better. Izzy clearly does blame himself (that’s for a separate post because I have lots of thoughts there) but to be fair they were both abusive in that relationship, for years it seems. Although I think by the beginning of s2, the power dynamic has clearly flipped and it was Ed who was doing most of it and Izzy was exhausted and knowingly “reaping what he’d sewed” (I don’t Blame Izzy for his abuse but I think this was his mindset) so the crew wouldn’t get the brunt of it.

If he seriously HAD to die because the writers just had to have it that way, those are the changes I think would’ve made the narrative work/make sense, served all the character arcs and dynamics correctly, and actually driven the plot as fictional deaths are supposed to, compelling things into a third season. Seriously, this season finale was a mess of baffling choices the most series finale season finale I’ve ever seen.

Anyway. There’s my unsolicited two-cents. Now back to hoping Izzy’s in the gravy basket waiting to be sea witch necromancied back by seagull Buttons in season 3. I love this show and I hate hating what I hate hating about it because it’s my absolute favorite and I can’t stand it because it’s fantastic and the worst thing I’ve ever seen. (Also, Izzy should’ve lived).

#ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd meta #izzy my beloved #izzy deserved better #we deserved better #eyyyy djenks if you need a dev editor for s3 just hmu #david jenkins #ed teach #stede fucking bonnet #stede bonnet

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centralperkchenford · 1 year

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Since it’s the anniversary of Jackson’s death I kinda want Ava saying he’s her imaginary friend because kids can see ghost better then we adults can and Lucy explains to her who he is

I’m sorry this is so late but I did want to do this one! I hope you like it!

Since it’s the anniversary of Jackson’s death I kinda want Ava saying he’s her imaginary friend because kids can see ghost better then we adults can and Lucy explains to her who he is

Ghost

Lucy walks by Ava’s room to see her sitting in her rocking chair smiling and laughing. Lucy pauses outside her door and watches her daughter. She is five now and has the best imagination. Ava gets up and holds her hand out to the air, and giggles and turns around jumping and leaping. She sees Lucy and runs over to grab her hand. “Whatcha doing Ava?” Lucy asks her. Ava giggles and leads Lucy to the rocking chair.

“My friend and I were just playing.” Ava says proudly. Lucy tilts her head at her daughter curiously.

“What friend Aves?” She asks her. Ava licks her lips and points to the corner where her toy bin is.

“He says his name is Jackson.” She says. Lucy heart nearly stops as Ava continues not noticing Lucy’s face.

“He says he wants to be my friend because I remind him of you.” She says and Lucy has to swallow down the sob that is about to come out.

There’s no way Ava can see Jackson.

But yet…

She glances at the unicorn calendar on Ava’s wall and swallows again. How did she not realize?

September 26th.

The day Jackson was so brutally and senselessly murdered.

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” Ava asks and Lucy wipes a tear from her cheek and holds out her arms for Ava. Ava comes and crawls on Lucy’s lap. She reaches out and brushes a tear from her cheek.

“What’s wrong? Jackson doesn’t want you to cry!” Ava says again sounding almost panicked and Lucy kisses her cheek.

“Oh baby. It’s um—Jackson was my friend a long time ago. H-he died today many years ago.” She says and she’s not sure how a five year old can comprehend that. Hell sometimes she still can’t believe Jackson is gone.

“Oh.” Says Ava. “He didn’t tell me that.” Lucy chokes out a laugh and puts her chin on Ava’s head.

“Maybe he didn’t want to upset you Aves.” She says quietly. “He was a very good friend.”

Ava is quiet for a few minutes. “What was he like mommy?” Lucy sucks in a breath. It’s not that she didn’t think of Jackson, but sometimes it was hard to think about him. And everything that could have been, should have been. He should be here.

“We went through the police academy together. Along with uncle John. And he was my best friend. He was kind and thoughtful. He was smart and he was going to make a great police officer.”

“Like daddy is.” Ava says. Lucy has to bite back a laugh remembering how much she complained about Tim to Jackson. He probably would have been shocked at first to know they got together, got married and had four kids. But then he would have been supportive and maybe a little more than smug.

“Yes baby. Daddy is my best friend but not at first.” She says and Ava makes an offended noise.

“Jackson helped me through a lot. We went through a lot together.” She says. “We were thicker than thieves.”

“Do you miss him?” Ava asks. Lucy nods and kisses her head again.

“Yeah I do.” She says. “You would have loved him Ava. He would have spoiled you rotten.” Ava grins up at her.

“I wish I could have met him when he was alive.” She says. “He sounds fun.” Lucy nods and Ava slips off her lap suddenly. She goes back to the corner and leans in, a grin on her face as she turns back to Lucy.

“He says he loves and misses you.” Ava says and Lucy stands up to go over to where Ava is. She bends down on her knee and looks at to where she thinks Jackson is.

“Miss and love you too Jackson.” She says quietly and Ava hugs her tightly.

***

Later that day, Lucy drives out to the cemetery alone. She finds Jackson’s grave and lays the flowers on it.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here much.” She says. “You deserve better than that. But I miss you man. It took my five year old daughter seeing your ghost to make my heart ache at how much I miss you.”

She bends down and wipes some dirt off the grave. “I will do better Jackson. I promise. You would love Ava. She’s so.. wild. And Daisy is a gentle soul. And Levi is a mama’s boy and so sweet and June.. she’s amazing. And Tim.. he’s the love of my life. Are you surprised? I fell in love with my hard ass training officer. But he’s worth it.”

“That’s good to know.” Says a voice behind her. She straightens up and turns around to see Tim. Ava, Daisy, Levi and June who are in their double stroller. Ava and Daisy are holding flowers. And Tim is holding a tiny police car.

“Hi.” She says making her way over to her family. She lifts Levi up and Tim grabs June placing her on his hip.

“Ava told me about her friend Jackson. And then I remembered today was..I figured this is where you would be.”

She smiles at him and leans in to kiss him. “I just needed to talk to him.” She says and Tim pulls her close. “I miss him.” Tim kisses her on the top of the head.

“I know you do baby.” He says. “I’m glad you had him in your life.”

“Me too.” She replies. “Now what did you guys bring Jackson?” Ava bounces up to the grave first and puts her flowers on gently.

“Come visit me again okay?” She whispers loudly. “I love you.” Lucy looks at Tim who is staring at Ava with awe. Daisy goes next, her little three year old voice quiet.

“I brought daisies cause that’s my name.” Daisy says. She backs away and Lucy smiles at her as she backs into Lucy’s legs. Tim fidgets with the car and looks over at Lucy a guilty expression on his face.

“I wish I had treated him better.” He says. Lucy leans up to kiss him.

“He knows.” She says. “I know he does.” Tim smiles and goes to lay the car on Jackson’s grave, June still in his arms.

He backs up to Lucy and she leans close to him again. Ava at Tim’s side, Daisy at Lucy’s and the twins in their arms.

Lucy knows if Jackson were still alive he would have been a huge part of the family. And standing here right now, Lucy can feel him and she knows she will always have an angel watching over her.

When they turn to go, the sun is setting and it’s a beautiful orange and pink. And Lucy knows Jackson painted that just for them.

#chenford #the rookie #tim bradford #chenford fanfic #tim x lucy #lucy chen #chenford fic #anon answered

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andtheyreonfire · 1 year

Text

and i know

Ao3

Wc - 2002

An: You can find the brief explanation for this AU in the Ao3 link! I was gonna make a post explaining it in full but. Ehh. The gist of it is also explained throughout the course of the fic :>

Y’know, it’s funny how graceful Joker is, even while 4 feet tall.

He barely comes up to Ryuji’s chest, despite wearing heels. His proportions are more a teenager’s than a child, but he reminds Ryuji of one all the same. He’s still figuring out the Persona thing. Whichever one he has—equipped, to sound like an RPG—directly corresponds to his height. The smaller the Persona, the smaller the Joker, and vice-versa.

The Persona equipped now is…some type of fairy, maybe? Definitely a fae, at least. Considering one of his others was the size of a building and another the size of Ryuji’s middle finger—well, this is a happy medium. At least he doesn’t look as small in the massive, sprawling palace as the cat-thing does, but Ryuji’s still looking down a fair bit just to meet his eyes.

It’d be funny if he still didn’t look sick as hell even while being 4 feet tall. His cape billows behind him, his hand curves around a wicked-sharp blade, his every step kicks up splashes of pink-red-purple.

Joker stops, abruptly, to duck behind a corner. The rest of the thieves pile around him, Ryuji hovering above Joker and Panther, while Mona flanks the other side. They’re near the exit, and compared to the rooms they just exited, this one almost looks like it could be normal sized. At least, if the ceiling wasn’t nearly six stories tall. Still, it’s reminiscent more of a ballroom than an actual, giant’s castle. Small enough to soothe Ryuji’s nerves, but large enough to remind him of the ego of that effing bastard—

“One more?” Joker whispers, nodding at the shadow prowling the hall. It looks small enough—meaning it could fit into Ryuji’s house and only mildly destroy his walls in the process. The team gives a collective nod. Ryuji’s hand twitches to his bat. What’s one more fight? The longer Ryuji can avoid doing homework, the better.

Joker lunges forward, lightning fast and dead-silent, before springing onto the shadow like a cat pouncing on its prey.

The shadow splits into 3 forms, each of them weaklings. Ryuji grins. Only one of them’s over 20 feet—the emo unicorn—while the others were about 9 and 13 feet. Easy fight, compared to the absolute bullshit they’ve seen in this place.

Ryuji summons Captin Kidd with a shout, hopping on the mini-ship the second it spawned in. The gang all had extra abilities their Personas granted them. Panther could occasionally spawn minion...things, and Mona’s flew over Ryuji’s head so many times he stopped bothering to explain it. Ryuji doesn’t give a shit. Using a ship as a hoverboard, mowing into shadows like he’s playing GTA? Now that’s where it’s at.

Ryuji hops onto the ship, blue flames coiling off of it like smoke. He watches lightning strike the unicorn’s face. He floors it, about to finish it off—

Only to stop, re-adjust, and barrel forward, conscious of the small weight that grabbed onto the ship’s hull. Ryuji spares a glance downward to see Joker with his grappling hook in hand. He gives Ryuji a grin when he meets his gaze, sharp and shiny as a knife.

Ryuji summons the Captain, braces himself at the extra force of speed as he pushes him forward, and slams into the side of the unicorn. It recoils, letting out a pained cry that threatens to split Ryuji’s head open. It locks eyes with Ryuji, rears its head back like a battering ram—

Only for a massive, gloved hand to wrap around its face, and for a proportionally-sized gun to dig in the unicorn’s cheek. Joker isn’t as big as the creature—probably just under 20 feet—but he’s big enough to wrap his arms around it, tug it back, and pull it clean it out of Ryuji’s ship. He fires a few bullets directly into its face, and it disintegrates in a shower of ash.

They turn their attention to the other two enemies, which Panther and Mona are handling—spectacularly well, actually. Ryuji drifts over to them, watching as Joker sheds about half his height to attack Mona’s enemy. It goes down with a single curse skill.

Panther’s dies the next second in a burst of flame. Joker stands over Mona with his hands in his pockets, completely cool as the cat groans, “Joker, you stole my kill!”

“You were taking too long, anyways.” Panther saunters over to the group, beginning the arduous process of re-furling her whip. “I don’t know about you, but I wanna go home.”

Joker adjusts his gloves, looking unbothered as Ryuji’s ever seen him. Mona rolls his weird bug-eyes. “We’re close to the entrance. If we’re done here, I guess we can move o—“

A massive, dark shadow falls over Ryuji, and that’s the only warning he gets before a critical hit strikes into him, throwing him clean off his ship.

Ryuji wheezes, spots dancing in his vision, obscuring the blurry shapes of his teammates. Panther’s limbs are frozen to her sides. She sails across the room when a physical skill knocks her clean out. Mona dodges around several lightning strikes, assisting Joker in taking down not one, but two Andras, both at least 30 feet tall.

God—dammit! Where the fuck did they even come from? Ryuji heaves, face set in a grimace. Considering the shakiness of his limbs and that he feels like he got hit by a truck, he’s one solid hit away from joining Panther. He steels himself, managing to prop up on too-weak limbs—

Only for a clawed, rough hand to pick him up by the scruff. He kicks his legs where they dangle, but can only freeze when the Andras’s other claws wrap around his neck.

Lifted some 20 feet off the ground, he has the perfect view to see Mona collapse, just as he was about to nail the other bird. God, dammit.

The Andras dangling him speaks up, in a voice that sounds like a seagull knocked back a handful of gravel. “I propose a trade—your money, or your friend’s life.”

Joker stands his ground, and—shit, is he knocked out too, or can Ryuji just not see his face? It’s, like, weirdly blank. The shadow continues, “I am capable of displaying mercy. However, if you do not chose—“

It doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Ryuji doesn’t get the chance to grasp his bearings, doesn’t get the chance to do much of anything as a massive, dark sea blooms across his vision. The void lurches forward, a flash of blood red protruding, grasping, slamming into the shadow holding him. Ryuji pushes off as much as he can and rolls to the side, groaning all the while. He forces his eyes open, before sucking in a breath that’s less from pain and more from—from—

Joker towers over him, over the shadows, head scraping the ceiling even hunched down because he’s, what, 80 feet tall? Ryuji follows the long—long—stretch of his arm, ending at a massive, gleaming knife, poised at the Andras’ neck. In one swift movement, Joker fishes his gun out and snipes the other, barely glancing in it’s direction as it turns to dust.

Ryuji claps his hands over his ears, the burst of sound pounding into his skull. Joker shifts, again, and the creak of the floor might as well be an earthquake. Ryuji feels his veins turn to ice.

The Andras is completely pinned. Joker’s arm might be—no, is definitely longer than its entire body. It seems to convulse, be it from frustration or fear. Joker brings his arm up to pin it further, at just the right angle that Ryuji still can see its gigantic, snarling face.

And here’s the thing—Joker doesn’t really talk during combat. For a strategy? Sure. To summon his Persona? Duh. After fights? Maybe, if he feels like it. But this time—this time, he leans forward, casting a long, dark shadow. He opens his mouth, and a booming voice shakes Ryuji to his core. “I am capable of displaying mercy, which is why your death will be swift.”

Here’s the thing—Joker’s face is usually expressive, alight with adrenaline, smugness, or flair. He’s a dashing gentleman thief—and a teenager who just got gifted incredibly sick superpowers. His lips are always curled in a slight smirk, eyes gleaming dark and, at times, bloodthirsty. He’s determined when the battle is tough, and unbearably cocky when he puts a shadow in its place. While hard to read in the real world, the Metaverse is where he can truly fly free.

Joker’s face right now, looming so, so far above Ryuji, is completely, utterly blank.

Andras struggles, but Joker’s arm doesn’t move an inch. The knife strikes home. The shadow disintegrates with a choked sound. The world itself seems to shift as Joker settles back on his haunches. For a second, Ryuji catches a flicker of something else in those eyes, hidden behind a mask almost as long as he is—but it’s gone, like the shadow’s ashes in the wind.

Joker shifts down to about 10 feet, and a healing light washes over Morgana and Ann. The same passes over him, and Ryuji springs up, following behind Joker. The image of him—the size of a skyscraper and pinning down an impossibly large enemy with a knife like an executioner’s blade—burns in his mind’s eye.

“Is everyone all right?” Joker asks, quiet but still ringing in Ryuji’s ears, as if he hadn’t shrunk down. He’s looking at them with an unwavering intensity, and Ryuji can’t help but freeze, just a little bit, when his gaze locks onto him, too.

Except—he gasps, barrels forward, and tugs down an arm that’s almost the length of his body. “Dude! You didn’t tell us you were injured, too!”

Joker blinks down at his arm, before wincing, as if the pain of a massive, very deep gash finally caught up to him. He doesn’t have a second to feel it before someone heals him. His brow furrows. “Mona, your SP—“

“Can it. I know we all took a pretty nasty fall, but you gotta tell us if you’re injured, too! We’re almost out of here, anyways.” A run and a jump, and Ryuji watches Morgana settle onto Ren’s shoulder. “I can help keep an eye out for shadows. I bet you’re pretty exhausted, huh?”

Ren looks like he wants to protest, but he makes no move to shove Morgana off, nor to yank back his arm where Ryuji’s—pretty much holding his hand. “I’m fine—“

“No, we’re leaving, and we’re all supporting each other on the wall out.” Ann comes around and grabs Ren’s other hand, looking even more comically small against him than Ryuji does. “Before you try that self-sacrificial shit—again—and blame yourself, none of us were prepared for the reinforcements. We’ll all be more alert, next time. We’re sorry. Thank you for saving our asses.”

She tugs Ren’s hand forward, actually causing him to trip over his feet. “Now let’s gooo I’m starving.” She bats her eyelashes. “How can beauty prosper without a proper meal?”

“Uh,” Ryuji butts in, because he can, “I just saw you shove, like, an entire big bang meal into your mouth last safe room. How the hell’re you hungry?”

“How aren’t you? You barely had any snacks during the last break! What, you too manly or something?”

“I was tryina to conserve rations, unlike a certain someone—“

“—Oh, here we go again—“

“I’ll tell them to shut up once we find the next shadow,” Morgana mutters to Ren. “Sorry, again, we left you like that.”

Ryuji doesn’t hear what Ren says in response, but, if anything, he lets Ryuji and Ann drag him a little easier, stupidly long legs be damned. It almost soothes the memory of him, swift and massive, avenging his friends with ruthless efficiency. Almost.

Hopefully Ren knows they’re here for him, too.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fanfiction #persona 5 g/t #p5 g/t #gt july #g/t july 2023 #day 20: intimidate #gtjuly2023 #my writing

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montammil · 1 year

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Request thing idk if this is like good enough, I've not done this before...

what would Marshall's reaction be to a new bed, since his old one was wearing out? Would Lawrence let him out of the house or let him pick it out after looking at some printed out pictures of the beds? Is Lawrence the type to buy the type of bed that adjusts to you in your sleep, would he even trust his "little one" in such an expensive bed?

Marshall would very much appreciate a new bed if he got to choose one, and Lawrence would happily buy him an expensive one (in fact, he’d prefer it that way).

Lawrence would have the bed delivered to them, along with any other type of furniture, after browsing online with Marshall.

And Lawrence would buy Marshall any type of bed he wants, as long as it has good reviews and doesn’t seem dangerous.

Marshall would try to choose the least childish bed out there, preferably a queen bed, but that wouldn’t stop Lawrence from giving him cutesy sheets and blankets.

I wrote a tiny piece on it XD

…

“Kiddo, can you pass me the socket wrench?”

“Uhh… this?”

Lawrence looked over at him, chuckling. “Nope, that’s just a normal wrench. What you’ll want to get is… this!” He grabbed the socket wrench, showing it proudly. “Take notes, munchkin.”

Watching him get back to work on the footboard, Marshall leaned against the wall. “Why are we doing this? Couldn’t we have had someone assemble it for us, or something?”

“Sure, but this is precious bonding time.” Lawrence tightened the bolts and put the socket wrench down. “Now we need to install the slats.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m just talking to myself. Why don’t you tell me about your day while I do this?”

“Same as every day. Eat, read, nap, cry, eat again.”Marshall sighed when Lawrence whipped towards him to give a worried look. “I was kidding about the crying part.” Sort of.

Lawrence gave him one more look before turning back to placing the slats on the metal brackets. “You can always talk to me, sweetheart.”

Marshall resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I know.” He appreciated the sentiment somewhat.

Once he was done with that, he clicked his tongue. “Can you read the next part of the directions? Should be the last step.”

Reluctantly, Marshall reached towards the small white paper. “It says, um, you’ll want to attach the vertical supports to the bottom of the slats using the screws.”

“Just making sure. Thanks, marshmallow.” He resumed assembling the bed, which looked about finished. “This is more exhausting than it looks. All’s we’ll need to do is get the mattress and sheets on.”

Marshall stood up to grab the mattress that was resting against the wall next to him. Lawrence helped him, and with ease, they got it on there. Marshall watched as the older man pressed against the mattress to make sure it was stable.

After a few pushes, Lawrence got the package containing the sheets. Marshall didn’t remember choosing any out.

So he wasn’t shocked in the slightest when he saw pastel purple sheets with prints of sparkles on them.

Lawrence noticed Marshall’s reaction and smiled. “If you don’t like these, I got some dinosaur and unicorn themed ones on the way. Oh, and since you like Bluey, I got a Bluey comforter on the way, too.”

Though Marshall wanted to correct him, it was one of the few kids cartoons he enjoyed, even before Lawrence kidnapped him. He grumbled under his breath and folded his arms.

Once Lawrence put the sheets on, he stretched his back with a pop. “Now that that’s done, wanna go cuddle and watch a movie? You can pick.”

“The Purge.”

“Absolutely not. You’ve lost your picking privileges and we’re now watching Elemental.”

“…fine.”

#answered ask #lawrence oc #marshall oc #parental whumper

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thehistorynut19 · 1 year

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1, 4, and 11 for you Ex-Aid self-insert,, <:

how tf did you know i was thinking of her, are you psychic young man? :OOOO

give us a quick run down of your s/i!!

TEA!!!!!! Well it’s in two parts actually. Um, Tea’s real name is Thien but prefers going by Tea since she drinks it like water half of the time. She’s a game designer at Gemu Corp and is working on a monster capturing game known as Magical Monster Party, with the monsters all loosely based off of Nursery Rhymes. The game centers around the protag trying to tame/befriend monsters to make the village smile. Tea is sort of projecting in the game since she never really had a sense of happiness to call her own. She’s a very tired woman who becomes Kamen Rider Tamer. She has other forms based off of trading card games (I play Yugioh and Cardfight Vanguard, used to play Shadowverse) and a HOPA (Hidden Object Puzzle Adventure)/Mystery games because I adore HOPAs. I haven’t figured out her final form yet, but Imma figure it out…maybe…unless Leoring dies before such a thing.

Leoring aka Leo-tan is the Bugster adopted son of Tea. Baby boi baby. He’s the mascot of MMP and basically the ‘starter’, a lil manticore that wants to bring everyone happiness, including his very depressed creator. To go with the nursery rhyme theme, Leoring is based off of the nursery rhyme of the Lion and the Unicorn; during the beta testing of MMP, he had an elder sister that’s a kelpie like creature. She was going to be the mascot but Leoring was chosen because he’s a lot cuter; Kelcora is her name, Cora-chan! In the game, the monsters can switch between cute babeh to giant fuck-you monsters so when Tea henshins, Leoring goes to his battle mode which is a giant manticore. His goal was originally giving his momma happiness which turned into making everyone happy, and once his goal is finished…he’ll fade away, because he knows he will. It’s his destiny, born to die and die to be born.

Anyway pls protect the mother and son.

4.) what's a song that describes your s/i? even better if you have a playlist!

This is just Leoring singing and being the cutest fucking baby ever, do not fucking tell me otherwise.

I haven’t found one for Tea just yet though, alas.

11. What is your S/i afraid of:

Tea: Letting go of Leoring. She knows it’s going to happen, she’s made her peace with the fact her baby boi is gonna die in her arms one day. She also is generally slightly afraid of the dark and spiders.

Leoring: He acts like he doesn’t fear much but he does, quite a bit. He puffs out his chest to look brave but…even though he’s come to terms with his death, what he fears is leaving everyone behind. Especially his momma, he’s watched her grow into a powerful woman and he’s proud of her. Oh and vacuums. He tends to cry whenever he hears a vacuum go off.

#ask games #do not get me STARTED on tea and leoring they make me very emo esp when we get to the ships

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quillyfied · 1 year

Text

Okay next batch of episode thoughts that I don’t know that I can expand into real coherent thoughts so heck it we’re doing it live and cramming them together, no chronology just memory vibes, PART TWO:

- “that’s six inches of silver in your scapula” MADAM.

- They’re doing an amazing job of showing Izzy in a pure pathetic state. I still have a lot of conflicted emotions about him but his increased confidence and ease around the ship BECAUSE the crew is taking time to be kind to him is…it’s. I don’t. GOLD UNICORN LEG OKAY. THE CARE THEY ARE SHOWING HIM AND HE DOES NOT DESERVE IT AND HE KNOWS IT AND HE BELIEVES IT BUT IT IS CHANGING HIM FOR THE BETTER ANYWAY.

- once again my expectations are being undercut. Of course Buttons isn’t the rabbit. Silly of me to think that. Of course he isn’t going to screw up turning into a seagull. He’s Buttons.

- …he’s coming back, though, right?? Guys Buttons is coming back at some point, right????

- Hang on have to go giggle about Izzy dragging himself across the floor mumbling existential horrors and shouting at the unicorn and then barking at people knocking on his door.

- Also have to giggle about the two halves of the crew coming at each other trying to help in two different ways and talking it through on their own, without Stede’s direct interference. I’m so proud of them.

- Wee John might just be slowly transforming into a mermaid. And I want his sweater.

- Ed referring to himself and the rabbit as lone wolves but immediately imprinting on the thing—and it not leaving him, either.

- HES SCARED OF SPIDERS

- How instantly Ed is glad to see Mary and Anne though. And the secret handshake with Anne. I cry.

- I also cry over how Anne instantly smells blood in the water with Stede before even knowing his connection to Ed.

- Like I guess Buttons not coming back makes sense bc he gave the most profound advice of the entire show and then flew off as a seagull, thereby completing his life’s dream, but have they considered the fact that I will miss him.

- (And so will the crew)

- I love that Ed and Stede finally have it out and get to a point where they can start to heal. I also find it so interesting to see the difference in what the fandom thought would be important to bring up, and what the show itself seems important to bring up. Stede could have blamed Badminton for his cowardice, but he doesn’t; he owns it and makes a greater stride towards mending things with Ed and being better himself. Ed could have mentioned what Izzy said to him, but instead he’s starting to work at the greater issue of his own self-loathing and how that drove him to harming the crew. It’s entirely possible that those details will come up later, but. I think Izzy has a point when he says it’s better to patch things with fiction (or silence) than never moving on. And maybe the hashing out of this stuff belongs to fanfic, not to canon. Because the events themselves don’t matter so much to canon as does what those events represented and THAT is what is getting fixed and addressed.

- Mary Read’s whole thing about “this is what an adult relationship looks like.” I have so many conflicted personal feelings about it. The summary: never been in a romantic relationship before and now at an age where I’ve witnessed plenty but I’m terrified of how I’ll be if and when that ever happens for me, bc the only experiences I’ve got is watching others and fiction. And I just was listening to both my mom and sister in law talking about how so many women my sil’s age have gotten divorced bc their expectations for what a marriage is were unrealistic, how marriage is more like a business transaction. And I was too scared to ask for clarification at the time. And I really do wonder if Mary has a point, yknow. When the mystery fades and the magic is gone…what’s left? Bc fiction tells us one thing. Real life often tells another. Dying alone doesn’t sound fun but it sounds better than accidentally ruining my and/or someone else’s life based on a false hope, yknow?

- Anyway that’s way too personal time to move on

- TO ANNE SETTING THEIR STIFLING LIFE ABLAZE AND REALLY REKINDLING THAT ROMANCE WITH MARY. HELL YEAH LADIES GET IT.

- I know it’s never gonna be addressed but please can the satanic ship be addressed at some point, even as a throwaway line

- (Also patiently awaiting the literal translation of what the dying priest was saying)

- PUT STEDE BACK IN FINE FABRICS 1717

- The absolute ball you know they were all having with this episode. Rhys Darby your FACE when screaming at Izzy after he reiterates that it’s cursed.

- Just the sheer hope in Ed’s face as he witnesses Buttons(?) fly away, as he submits to the jumpsuit and cat bell, the enthusiasm with which he jumps in to go fishing with Fang. The man is going through it but I love seeing him so earnest

- LUCIUS THO. SO MANY THOUGHTS. First and foremost I want his outfit this season, forget Stede’s cursed suit for a minute let’s talk about how Lucius is SERVING this season (and why it’s making me more hopeful for ABBA on the soundtrack at some point)

- How Pete gets through to him by pointing out that HE LIVED BITCH. TALK ABOUT A PERSPECTIVE CHANGE. Also the various blackbeard doodles I’m dying

- Izzy turning the tables on Lucius. I love a good parallel.

- Pete tho. Marry the F out of that man, Lu, he’s a keeper.

- “Loner artsy types” EXPLAIN CALICO JACK TO ME

- AND ALSO I NEED NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THESE OTHER ARTSY LONER TYPES

- Fang is such a wonderful character and we are so blessed to have him. I was a little wary that Fang was going to try and off (or offload) Ed just to make the crew feel better, but what we got was so much softer and better. Teaching Ed in such a gentle and honest way to examine himself! To sit with himself and learn to value the company! Telling Ed that he’s been crossing boundaries for a long time and giving Ed space to apologize and process! HIS NAME IS KEVIN AND IT’S A FOUR HUNDRED YEAR OLD TRADITION.

- Listen. Listen. Listen. Shirtless Con O’Niell is. A gift. That shirtlessness belonging to the character of Izzy is a little more of a conflict for me but given that Izzy has entered his “little shit and owning it” phase, I’m inclined to enjoy it.

- Also the SHEER BALLS on Stede Bonnet to manipulate Izzy into teaching him some piracy bits. That little stutter when Izzy tries to act unaffected but still asks what Blackbeard said about him. I’m just. Omg.

- And the way Stede sucks at the practicality but he excels at the instinctive/emotional bits. How he’s so creative and genuine and absolutely won his crew’s respect and loyalty and continues to prove that he’s worth it. I ADORE Stede Bonnet.

- Okay I gotta I gotta I gotta: KISS NUMBER TWOOOOOOO. I’ve only kissed one person in my time so far but I remember the moment after that initial dam break, when it occurred to me that I was allowed to kiss this person again; something about the casual way Ed and Stede both lean in just feels the same way to me. Like this is their new normal and they like it. And ADORE Ed setting a boundary and Stede immediately respecting it. AND. THE FINGERS. THE PLAYING. Comparing their games to what Anne and Mary get up to, it does make me hopeful that a mature relationship can be comfortable and playful and sweet and not just a grind or a business transaction. Idk man.

- Now I fully forgot that the episodes have post credits scenes so my reactions to them are not included here but I’ll be rewatching all five episodes later tonight so maybe a separate little baby post about them later.

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #here we go much more timely #mainly bc I want to get these out BEFORE I do a rewatch #so it’s just initial thoughts and memories #more in depth posts will come later I think

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halfblood-princes-crown · 2 years

Note

2K12xHP

(WE STILL HAVE NO EXCUSE FOR THEM TO GO TO A DIFFERENT CONTINENT TO STUDY) HELP

!!First Year!!!

Their cloaking devices make them look East-Asian because that’s the vibes I get. Ngl, I feel like Leo would have long hair. (Tell me what you imagine)

For pets, I don’t think Donnie wouldn’t want one and Mikey’s fine without one.

Raph is bringing Spike and we give Leo a owl who he names *Captain Ryan—because it slapped him with his wings when he was feeling nervous in the pet shop.

The turtles will be meeting Casey & April earlier, say 2nd-4th year summer. Karai, we’ll have to wait until 5th year because her ass was in Tokyo, Japan.

Mikey would make so much fun of Raph for being sorted into hufflepuff.

These boys would also either scale the walls or parkour when they’re encountered with the moving stairs/during free time to impress others (It really backfires during 2nd year lmao)

I don’t think they’d really be involved with Golden Trio until book 2

Snape (and every teacher) would either semi like Donnie or like him completely or be exhausted by him because Donnie would ask SO MANY QUESTIONS

Mikey would be eating potion ingredients Istg

Raph, eh, easily frustrated at things but he’s naturally talented so doesn’t show that much.

S1 Leo is teachers pet. Snape likes him. (Well behaved and in Slytherin!!!)

Leo wouldn’t like Snape’s rude strictness but he’d bask in his bias

✨Favorite subjects✨

Mikey-Charms

Donnie-Potions and/or DADA

Raph-Care of Magical Creatures (Unicorns wouldn’t approach him first but snuggles up to him when he approaches. Everyone is surprised)

Leo-DADA and/or Transfiguration

And they are using pens alright, no way these guys would use feather and quills.

Hermione and Donnie can be study buddies because god knows how much *Donnie needs to infodump

Leo would be so bummed that there’s no TV, sending letters to Splinter like

“Dear Sensei,

Please watch the new episode of Space Heroes and tell me what happened”

His brothers would steal borrow his owl so much to ask Splinter to send them comics, and in Donnie’s case, machine bits. (Splinter always denies Donnie’s request because he’ll ask for the craziest shit ever)

At some point Splinter stops responding to the comic thing. They send a letter for a comic and he ignores it lmao. Just to troll and there are way too many requests

Leo teaches Captain Ryan to attack and not respond to his brothers.

That’s all I have now.

——

*Captain Ryan is the leader character in Space Heroes. Leo’s favorite show

*They tell Donnie to shut up so much when he starts info dumping it’s like it’s beat out of him

Raphs neon green as eyes lmao I just remembered

Ha i love all of this!

Now that you mention it, I actually agree with Leo having long hair 🤔

The bit about Mickey eating potion ingredients, I’m crying 😭😭😭💀💀

Their fav subjects are pretty accurate too

Ugh and Raphs eyes were always my fav, probably because his eyes are my fav color

#ELAMAN

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obeymycok · 2 years

Text

MC Turns Into Their Animal Motif

Just like most problems in the Devildom, Solomon was to blame. He and MC were just supposed to be doing their potions homework and be back before dinner. What the brothers didn’t know was that Solomon had gotten some new rare ingredients he wanted to try out. Supposedly, it would strengthen the bond in the pact between whichever demon they chose and what could possibly go wrong? Oh so many things can and did go wrong.

Prideful Peacock

Lucifer is not pleased, to say the very least when Solomon walks in carrying a peacock

He puts two and two together immediately

*tired single mom sigh*

He does think you are very pretty though and he is honored you chose him to strengthen your bond with

He will absolutely not say that though he is just so disappointed right now

His soul ascends back to the celestial realm when you cry out in the middle of the night because of Mammon sneaking in

Swells with pride when he realizes he’s now got a watch-peacock that tattles on his brother’s shenanigans every time without fail

When the spell wears off, he’s actually a little sad

Not because the regular chaos has returned, but he misses the excuse of being around you constantly

Cunning Crow

“Oi! What’s ya do to my human?!”

*defensive Mammon noises*

He turns all blushy when he finds out what the spell was supposed to do

“Of course you’d wanna get closer to The Great Mammon! It’s only natural being the second strongest!”

Totally carries you around on his shoulder all proud

Doesn’t stop talking about you to everyone who listens and introduces you to his murder or crows

You fly off his shoulder all of a sudden and his heart sinks

Starts sobbing when you return with a couple grimm in your beak

Devastated when the spell wears off, he lost a steady income of stolen grimm, but it’s easier to cuddle you when you’re back to normal so he guesses it’s ok

(please cuddle him he’s been deprived)

Spiteful Serpent

M-MOOOOEEEEE

“Where is MC I have to show them I’ve never seen such a pretty snake!”

Wants to bury himself in a hole when he realizes he just called you pretty IN FRONT OF YOU

Short circuits and starts steaming when he realizes how it happened

Absolutely puts you in the giant tank wall but keeps Henry 2.0 in the smaller one just in case

Definitely will swim with you if you’re sure you want to swim with a yucky otaku like him (absolutely)

Notices how upset you get when he doesn’t spend time with you and that convinces him

Introduces you to Henry 1.0 from a distance thinking maybe you can talk to each other

Also starts sobbing when you make him remember Levi *cue snake cuddle pile around sobbing Levi*

He’s glad he can play video games with you again, but his anxiety returns around you to a certain degree

He misses swimming with you and letting you fall asleep wrapped around his arm (please give him a crumb of affection)

Upset Unicorn

He thinks it’s pretty funny honestly, especially with how upset Lucifer is

Perhaps he should try this out himself

Actually ok with not knowing what’s happening for once

Does not really want to be the one to look after you though, I mean it’s be different as a small cat but a FULL SIZED UNICORN??

He just doesn’t have the room but gladly makes some when he finds out why you even made the potion

“I guess I can move some shelves out of here so there’s room, I’ll just take Lucifer’s space.”

Rescues you from makeovers with Asmo and makes sure Beel doesn’t try to toast marshmallows on your horn

Not because you can’t defend yourself, but because one time after Lucifer yelled at you for tracking mud into the house, you got so pissed off that the unbridled rage cost almost 250,000 grimm in damages to the House of Lamentation

*cue Satan tearing up**sniff* “That’s my human! :)”

One night he gets super into the book he’s reading, forgetting he has a whole H O R S E in his room

He gets so embarrassed when he turns around dramatically mid speech about a ferocious battle, to see MC just staring at him seriously thinks about pulling a Belphie

That is until MC hoists him up and they charge out of his room into the battle of their minds, battle cries heard through the long, empty hallways

He is also very upset when MC returns to normal; he had so many pranks planned, the anti-Lucifer league’s time was near

But he’ll always have that first memory of their pretend battle (and the 4 hour lecture that followed for waking everyone up)

Scandalous Scorpion

He thinks you are just the cutest, you absolutely MUST let him decorate your stinger!

“Oh darling, if you wanted to strengthen our bond all you needed to do was ask”

After he stops squealing he gets straight to work setting up a homey terrarium

He tries to make it as cute as possible but remembers to put your comfort first

Copies your moves whenever you’re glass dancing (doesn’t realize it’s a mating dance)

Seriously becomes Levi for a few days staying in his room, live streaming everything you do, selfies and bows for days, you name it

All attention is on you

When the spell wears off, he’s not too upset

He got his adorable pictures of you and you’re back to your original, beautiful, gorgeous self

Prepare for cuddles he’s had to be too careful these past few days

Famished Fly

“Are you ok🥺?”

He’s just relieved you’re not hurt but he’s still a little worried

His smile brightens the room when he finds out it’s because you wanted to get closer with him

“Well why didn’t you just ask? I‘ll always make time for you MC. When you’re back to normal I’ll take you anywhere you want, I’ll pay.” *happy Beel noises*

Until then though he is so worried someone will accidentally smash you, he does remote learning so he can always keep an eye on you

Only lets Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer in the same room as you two because he trusts them to be careful

Beel also becomes kind of a shut in, not going to Fangol practice so he can make sure you’re safe

Before he starts a snack he always breaks off tiny crumbs so you not only have choices, but enough of whatever you choose AND it doesn’t even cost him much!

He’s just filled with relief when the spell wears off, poor boy was just so nervous

Absolutely fulfills his promise of taking you out and paying, all while he has that sweet puppy look on his face

God, you just make him so happy :)

Careless Cow

Oh this is fucking hilarious he is losing his shit

On the floor, holding his stomach, cackling, kicking his legs

He is wheezing it sounds like he’s suffocating 👀

Once he finally calms down he’s actually chill with watching after you as long as you don’t do anything stupid, he can sleep on you, and you don’t smell bad

Lucifer wasn’t even going to punish you, but he thinks it’s funny that you’ve become Belphie’s noble steed and will not help you

One day, Beel lost track of time at the gym and didn’t have time to get Belphie up in time for RAD

He did, however, wake up to a very loud ‘Moo’ followed by his body being launched off the bed and onto MC’s back as they raced him where he needed to be

Congrats MC, you’ve earned Belphie’s total respect

Actually becomes responsible and even brushes your hair so it looks shiny and smooth

Misses his E X T R A LARGE pillow when you turn back to normal but you’re easier to hold this way and now they can sleep on his bed again

He repays everything you did to him as a cow from being the big spoon and carrying you around, to slapping you awake with his tail (lovingly of course)

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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sukirichi · 4 years

Text

the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader headcanon #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut

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upindreamland · 2 years

Text

In My Arms - Zach Herron

Zach Herron x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) oneshot

Summary: Your safe spot has always been in your husband's arms. What happens when just 15 words causes it to crumble down (angst)

Warnings: ANGST (and me not being good at writing it lol) This is way in the future!

AN: I really wanted to try out writing some angst. If you have any feedback please let me know. If you want: like, comment reblog or come talk to me. Anything is appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Update: There is now a part 2!!! I couldn’t keep it angsty but if you want it to end this way that’s okay!! Check it out if you want.

————————————————————

Y/N’s POV

“Come on kids. We have to go to the grocery store!” I yell up the stairs to my kids. Normally, I wouldn’t take them with me, but no one was able to watch them today. Also, Zach was out of the state so I had no other option.

“Mommy! Noah won’t give me back my unicorn.” My two year old daughter complained about her older brother.

Sighing, I walk up the stairs and go to her room.

“Noah, you know that’s not nice. Give it back to Grace please. If you don’t, I’m going to have to call dad.” I threaten.

“So if I don’t give it back, does that mean we finally get to talk to him? Mommy we haven’t talked to him in five days. I have been counting.” Noah retorts.

“No Noah. You give your sister back her unicorn and go down to the car.” I try to say without my eyes tearing up.

The truth of that statement makes my stomach turn. It’s even worse that a three year old child was able to figure that out. Zach has been away at a writing session out of state with the rest of the boys. After winning multiple Grammys, the band has been working so hard to produce more amazing music for their fans. During all of that, the calls home started decreasing. A couple of days ago they just stopped. I try to be strong for my kids, but it becomes difficult when you don’t even know what’s going on with your husband. He’s supposed to come home in four weeks, so I guess we will wait and see.

With my two younger kids already in the car, I go and check on the two oldest.

*after going to the grocery store*

When we got home, to say I was exhausted was an understatement. Having four children, ranging from two to seven, with the love of my life is finally taking a toll on me. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my kids with every fiber in me. It doesn’t help that their dad has been MIA. Deciding to try and call him while the kids were napping, I picked up my phone.

“Hey babe.” I say once Zach picks up.

“Hey love. How’s everything over there?”

“It’s alright. We all miss you”

“Aww, I miss you guys too. I was just going to call and let you know that-“

“Zach are you ready?” A woman’s voice cuts him off.

“Shhh, my wife’s on the phone. I don’t want her to hear you.” He quickly whispers.

Shock. That’s the word that describes my reaction perfectly. I haven’t talked to my husband in five days, and when I get a chance, I hear a woman’s voice. I trust Zach with my life, so I don’t understand why all the sudden I feel like this. Also, why does he not want me to hear? If it’s nothing wrong, why does he feel a need to hide it?

Next, a feeling of sadness courses through me. Has he been cheating on me? No Y/N why the hell would you think that. You have four kids together, he wouldn’t throw that all away. Wait, but how can I be so sure. I haven’t seen him in weeks. What if all of a sudden he just gave up and realised that he didn’t love me anymore. What if…

I get pulled from those horrible thoughts when I hear his voice. “Sorry love. I have to go. Say hi to the kids for me.” He rushes out before hanging up.

And just like that he’s gone again. How long will it be this time before we can talk again? He’s gone, probably having the time of his life, while I’m over her with my intrusive thoughts. I failed to even notice that I started crying until a tear fell onto my hand. I don’t try to hold back my sobs anymore. I can hear them echo all around me. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. He’s my husband for goodness sake. While basking in my misery, I failed to notice two kids on the stairs.

*skip three weeks*

One week. Seven days. That’s how long until Zach finally comes home. These days felt like they were dragging on and on. Throughout the past three weeks, he would call to talk to the kids. He would spend hours listening to them talk about their day or what they ate. Those moments helped numb the pain. When it came to me though, he kept the conversations brief. That didn’t help at all with my speculation of him cheating. The only reassuring thing was that I haven’t heard the woman’s voice in a while.

Ever since that day, I just couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. I had these thoughts about Zach not loving me anymore despite being together for seven years. These thoughts mostly occurred when I woke up in the middle of the night, reaching over to snuggle my husband, and just being met with the cold sheets. It was a stab in the heart, every single time. I felt like that was the way the universe was trying to tell me where our relationship stood. Most nights, I let the darkness and the cold take over. Feeling completely vulnerable and exposed to this part of love I’ve never experienced. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to first date Zach. I was prepared for the hate, criticism, and jealousy. I was strong. All he had to do was wrap me in his arms, and mumble “It’s alright. You’re alright. All that matters is that you’re here, in my arms. You will always be safe in my arms Y/N. Never forget that. I will always be there for you and never hurt you. My arms will always be open. I promise.” I didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. The only thing that mattered was the love me and Zach had. No matter what, we had each other. Even when it felt like the world was turning its back on us. And that’s exactly what I said in my vows when we got married three years ago. But now, all of that is crumbling down piece by piece.

After a stressful day of getting the kids to and from school, working for eight hours straight, and cooking dinner, we are all sitting at the dinner table. That is everyone except for Zach. Throughout the whole dinner, I was lucky they didn’t mention their dad. I was on edge since his return was getting closer and closer. I was nervous for what would happen to us when we finally see each other in person. Better yet, what would happen to our family. I just couldn’t picture a happy ending. I especially didn’t want to pick a fight with him when he just got back. Wanting to clear my mind and maybe try to call Zach again without the kids around, I tell them to finish as much as they can before getting ready for bed. Right when I thought they were all gone I heard my oldest, Riley, speak up.

“Mommy how many days until daddy comes home again. I really want to show him the new soccer moves I learned.” He questions.

Going to answer, I open my mouth to respond but get cut off by another voice.

“Ri, there’s seven more days. Maybe if we get to sleep early he’ll come home faster.” Sophia responds from upstairs to her older brother.

“Thanks Soph. Mommy can Gracie and Noah sleep with me and Soph tonight? Pleaseeeee.” He practically whines.

Not being able to say no to the adorable face he makes. I give in and say yes. I mean who can say no? Now that they were all upstairs, I picked up my phone that was on the counter. Right when I was about to tap on the call button, an incoming call pops up on my screen. It’s none other than the man himself, Zach Herron. That’s odd. The only time he calls is early in the morning because of the time difference. Shaking that thought off, I answer the phone.

I immediately get my answer when I pick up. He’s fucking drunk at a club. The first clue is the loud club music that can be heard in the back. The next clue is the way he’s talking. It’s slurred and barely makes any sense. He can’t even form a complete sentence. The reason as to why he’s drinking is still unknown.

“Zach… is everything alright?” I carefully say, not knowing how he’s going to react.

“Huh, oh yeah everything is good. I just wa- wanted to ca- call and say that you’re, you’re the hottest…” He trails off before starting a new sentence.

“We finished our wri- writing se- session early. So, we de- decided to party.” Well that answers why he’s drinking.

Before I get to respond, he slurs “Are you taking good care of my kids? Last time I checked in, Grace hurt her finger. You should really be paying more attention to them.”

The anger quickly surges through me. I’m over here working my ass off with a full time job and “his” kids while he’s out partying and getting drunk. He has the audacity to criticize my parenting when we both know I’ve done most of the work. I was trying my hardest to stay calm, but it was hard hearing my husband’s words. Getting ready to open my mouth and snap at him, the cause of my sleepless nights returns. Just when I thought nothing could get worse, it happens...

I hear the woman’s voice again.

“We have to figure out whatever it is you want before you go back home.” I clearly hear her voice come from Zach’s side of the phone. And just like that, I feel my heart stop. All it took was fifteen words. Now, I know that his promises were never true. He hurt me. He wasn’t here. And I wasn’t safe in his arms.

————————————————————

Here’s the part 2 again if you want to read it

AN: That's it! I hope you enjoyed reading.

- Kara (upindreamland)

58 notes · View notes

hatsukeii · 3 years

Text

—Heat Waves.

Genre: angst!! Angst angst angst angst angst!!!!

Recommended song/bgm: Heat Waves- Glass Animals

Pairing(s): Song Mingi x gn!reader

Includes: dying relationship, holding on to comfort

Warnings: none

Mingi knows it's not working.

He sits in his studio, harsh light from the two monitors staring back at him. He grips the pen in his hand harder, so much that his knuckles start to go white. The blank document greets him through the screen with an eager grin.

"Hey."

He turns around, seeing Hongjoong's head pop into view from behind the door. Giving the pen a spin, he slams it down on the table, before pushing it towards the edge.

"Still nothing?"

Mingi stays silent. Hongjoong sighs.

"I think you should go home."

"I'll stay for the night."

Mingi takes his glasses off, rubbing his eyes lazily. He knows that staring at the screen won't make lyrics pop into his head magically. His brain also tells him that he should definitely go home, he's just not sure whether he wants to.

He glances at his phone, tapping the screen lightly and staring blankly at the wallpaper. It’s a photo of you and him at an arcade. Mingi still remembers the day he took the photo. You wouldn’t stop pouting when the plushie dropped back into the pit of identical unicorns, so he offered to do it for you instead. He pictures your grin from after he handed you the giant unicorn and for a second he almost gets a line. Now the unicorn sits sadly in the closet of the bedroom you two share. The colours have faded.

Mingi is tired, extremely so. He contemplates going home, he knows he’s about to crumble when his ears start to itch a little bit too much for comfort and a dull pain welcomes itself to the back of his head. He decides he’d much rather suffer through the migraine than go home to a lifeless, loveless bedroom that reminds him too much of what could’ve been.

Reaching his phone, he types up a message.

“Stuck at the studio, might not be back tonight.”

Mingi doesn’t want it to be like this. He knows you’re on the other end, sound asleep with no one to embrace for yet another night. What makes it worse is that you fall into slumber without giving a care in the world about it. As much as that knowledge should shatter Mingi’s heart, it doesn’t at all.

The document remains blank, taunting him through the screen. It peers down at Mingi, as if to say “still got no lyrics after four hours?” He clicks out of it and opens up YouTube instead.

Mingi is greeted with a song he is all too familiar with. Clicking into the video, he puts it on in an attempt to drown in his thoughts once again.

Ah, there it is, there’s his favourite line.

“Can’t make you happier now.”

Mingi knows he can’t make you happy. You can’t make him happy. To put it in the simplest form, this whole relationship just isn’t working out. And that’s okay, but not to Mingi. He admits that the spark that was once there is gone. Your smile, when it ever shows, isn’t the same day-brightening grin you used to sport, now reduced to a measly curl of the lips. He no longer rushes home after work, no longer eager to see you sitting on the couch watching whatever show it is for the fifth time as you wait for him. The two of you don’t even sleep facing each other anymore.

He also admits that he misses you. It’s a weird blend between wanting to cut things off and wanting you all for himself again. He thinks about you every night, just not in the way you would like. He doesn’t think about what future the two of you will have together, or what date to take you out to next. He creates a fake version of everything, hoping the ideal version of his life and relationship can be the glue holding him and you together. What could’ve been if he hadn’t gotten busier and you hadn’t become distant and everything hadn’t gone to shit.

Because as much as he hates to admit it now, he doesn’t need you. But he wants to. He wants to know that if he ever needs, he can crash into your arms and cry, and you would let him sniffle into your clothes without complaining. He doesn’t know how to be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone, even if it means holding himself in a bind.

Mingi is so caught up in his whirlpool of thoughts that he doesn’t register the silence that signifies the song ending. He clicks the replay button, putting it on loop.

Another day goes by that he doesn’t face you and speak his mind about what has to eventually happen.

Because even with all this, everything is ok as it is, right?

tags:

@dairyminki @canadianwatermelon @bubba-t3a @vanishingboots @troy-on-sea

Man this is underwhelming bc I think I’m going thru a block again so I’m gonna force myself out of it now sigh but I still hope you enjoyed this:) heat waves and glass animals literally own my heart so if you’re a glass animals fan I think you have superior music taste

#ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #song mingi #mingi angst #mingi scenarios #mingi headcanons #kpop fanfic #kpop songfic #songfic??

104 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

Atsumu + Alcohol

If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>

He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!

Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)

——————

Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu

⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)

Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“I think we should break up.”

(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head. He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.

“...ok.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”

“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”

“But...can I at least know why?”

The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.

“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”

“I think I found a girl I really like.”

(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...

“Ah.”

Was all he could say.

——

Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.

“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”

Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”

Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.

“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.

“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up.

“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”

“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table.

“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”

Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“

“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”

Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.

“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”

“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.

“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”

“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink.

Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print.

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”

——

“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home.

Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.

Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car.

“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”

“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?”

Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”

“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”

Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”

Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove.

“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.

“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”

Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”

Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”

Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”

(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.

“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”

Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”

“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”

Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm.

“Let’s go. You need rest.”

The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.

——

Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away.

“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself.

Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”

“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”

“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.”

Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.

“Oh.”

“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”

“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”

Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.

“...What makes sense now?”

Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”

Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.

Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone.

“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.

“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”

Atsumu stared at Kenma.

“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”

“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing.

Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus.

“How...did you get-”

“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”

“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”

“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”

“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.

“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”

“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”

Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged.

“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow.

Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.

——

Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more.

“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”

“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket.

Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”

“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”

“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”

The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”

(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk.

“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”

“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”

“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”

Atsumu nodded vigorously.

(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.

So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine.

What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to.

(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.

Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet.

“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.”

Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.

“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”

(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“You look cold.”

“I’m...really not.”

“S’comfier on the bed.”

“...I like this chair.”

“I can scoot over-”

“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”

Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice.

“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”

When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that.

Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot.

Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed.

“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”

“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”

(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?

He was.

(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life.

(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again.

(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.

Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”

(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:

“I love you too.”

“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”

(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”

“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night.

“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”

“...”

(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.

“...huh…?”

Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”

“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”

“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”

“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”

(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed.

He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”

“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”

Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor.

“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”

He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”

“...Wait, n-no you-”

Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw.

Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try.

“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”

“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”

“I did too.”

They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone.

He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer.

‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’

“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”

Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!”

He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.

“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.

“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”

And he didn’t.

Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.

——————

I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,

Lil thing I found funny

#hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x male reader #hq sakusa #msby 4 #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu male reader #hq atsumu #atsumu x male reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu angst #atsumu miya x male reader #miya atsumu x male reader #miya atsumu

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