#i love how you can see all the movement and gathers of the sleeves and skirt

[crrows]

I'll post proper pictures of this coord at some point, but honestly this accidental one is my favourite.

[kichiyosh1]

I love you! as my (boy)friend!

kabukimono (scaramouche) x reader

fluff! fluff! fluff! and teasing, will also be giving him the nickname kuni

Our sweet kabukimono is having an identity crisis in which he's torn between what role he should play.

"Wah! Why can't I be your boyfriend?!"

and there it is.

Kabukimono was a curious one, so it came as to no surprise to you when he started asking such questions.

"Is there a reason why you think you're my boyfriend?"

"uhm.." he tightened his hold on the lavender melons gathered in his arms, face dusted a light pink, but determination swirling in his eyes when he answered.

"Well! From books i've read, it's mentioned that when people start developing this feeling called... love, they'll end up together becoming a couple, isn't that what we are?"

He knew you reciprocated his feelings, you've made it very clear when you first initiated a kiss, his first kiss, a few weeks back.

BUT THE SIGNALS YOU WERE GIVING OUT WEREN'T CLEAR AT ALL.

"I love you a lot, you know," his face formed a pout, while you only smiled in response.

"awhhh, I love you a lot too! but best friends are also allowed to love each other though." If he ever had a heart, just know it was being stabbed over and over again by your words.

"B But I like— love you more than just a friend!"

"So you're saying since you want to be my boyfriend now, you don't want to be friends anymore? Are you ending our friendship, kuni?" the more you spoke, the more life was being sucked right out of him.

He was not prepared for that. Nobody told him that upgrading stages in relationships would mean ending one?! He valued your friendship more than anything in the world! but he can't possibly just stay as your 'just friend' when he has these feelings for you, right?

"I didn't know I had to pick one over the other! what law of nature says I can't be both?!"

"love, the nature of love, my darling kabukimono" you were on the brink of losing your composure, you had to suck in your teeth in order to not let out a laugh at how silly this situation was, and how adorably confused and panicked kuni looked.

Kabukimono made his points, but you were able to counter them in ways that had kuni flapping his arms up and down at a rapid pace, his sleeves following in his movement.

"No fair! this is just unfair!" you decided to end your little prank here, seeing how tears of frustration were about to break out of the dam in kuni's eyes.

"There, there. Tell you what, why don't we break the rules just this one time, okay?" You then clasp his hands in yours, leaning in to give him a light peck on the lips as to not startle him.

Oh, how he'd break many more rules if it meant he could have you like this

"With this kiss, it's sealed that you're now officially my boyfriend, but you'll still be my number one best friend in the whole of teyvat."

His eyes widened for a few seconds, which was quickly replaced by him covering his face with his sleeves, but the red of his ears couldn't hide what he was actually feeling.

"In that case, I'm glad" you can see the tiny gap between his sleeves, and under it was a grinning kabukimono, the red on his face never fading if not only increasing more into a darker shade.

"So, what would it take for me to be called your husband?"

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

(I feel kinda shy but I rllly need smt smutty jsjs)

Imagine the reader purposely buying some sort of pheromone perfume (ik they dont rlly work in real life but for the sake of the request they do🫡🔥) and cause matt has high senses he is quite turned on by that. She works at the law firm, and he tries to control himself, but after some weeks, he can not do that anymore. (The reader and Matt are already dating, and she does this as a way of teasing him).

UwU mercii

hii!! never be shy around here, ask for whatever it is you wanna read. also I feel kinda mean sorry in advance, this drabble is like im gonna edge you all (sorry if that’s gross to say😭😭) not necessarily smut per-say, just teasing and kinda suggestive. but I have wrote office smut if that’s more up your alley, I just don’t remember what it’s called😭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

(un)lucky number seven

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 601

warnings: suggestive and teasing

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

You love to tease Matt. It's simple, really. Nothing else to it. You loved to work him up and have him wrapped around your finger. 

So, two weeks ago, when you browsed the perfume department, you stumbled upon a selection of pheromones. You knew that they were often iffy, but with Matt's heightened senses, you were sure to get some kind of a reaction. You picked it up with a mischievous grin and went to the checkout to pay.

Since then, you've been wearing small amounts of the perfume when you were around Matt- which was almost all the time, considering you worked together too. You increased the spritzes every few days to see how much you could get away with before getting a reaction.

Today, you were wearing seven sprays of the alluring perfume and were hoping to get a response, something, anything. You wanted Matt to crack, so you pulled out the big guns.

Foggy and Karen were out collecting lunch, so it left you and Matt together at the office, left to your own devices.

You knock on the inside of Matt's door. "Where do you want these papers, boss," you tease, purposely wafting the papers against you as you walk into his office. "Finished them, just like you asked."

"Thanks," he nods, avoiding you and your games. "Put them with the others."

"I think we should have a break," you suggest, dragging a chair to sit in front of his desk. "You seem a little tense today."

"No, I'm fine," he brushes you off, ignoring your advances. He loosens his tie and then rolls his sleeves. "Just warm."

"Yeah, it is pretty hot today," you say, a slight breathy tone to your voice. "Meant to be like it for a few days." You tempt, ignoring his counter attempts of turning you on.

He stands, walking around his desk to sit at the edge facing you. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say weakly, swallowing thickly when he pushes back his hair, subtly flexing his arms. "Supposed to be very hot," you say almost pathetically, steading your breathing.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he grins, head cocking to the side in amusement. 

"Nothing, nothing," you reply, shaking your head as you gathered your things to leave. "I'll let you be."

"Stay," he whispers, halting your movements with an open palm. "You wanted a break, right?" he stands again and places his hands either side of your shoulders, gently pushing you back into your chair. "What's wrong? Don't like being on the receiving end?"

You slowly shake your head. Your breaths grow heavy and strained, looking up at Matt as he leans over you with his signature smile slapped on his face.

"Is that no?" he mocks, quietly speaking as he hovers against your lips. "Not so nice, now is it?"

"No," you admit, whispering.

He lingers to your lips, mimicking a light kiss as his hand faintly trails up your throat. "Exactly," he whispers back, grazing his spare hand over your thigh. "Better get back to work. They're back." Matt nods to the door, counting up on his fingers until the door swings open.

You mumble a curse under your breath and stand, collecting yourself and your papers. "So that's the part I need to correct?" you lie, speaking loud enough for Foggy and Karen to hear. 

"Yeah, change those parts, then it's perfect," Matt nods. "Mine. After work." He whispers to you, hiding his mouth behind his fist.

"You got it," you reply, your tone perky and upbeat as you leave his office. "Oh, hey, guys, I didn't see you there."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[mrs-kodzuken]

This is not a drill ♡

Pairing: Tetsurō Kuroo x fem!reader

WC: 2.8k

Genre: fluff, soulmate au

CW: fem!reader, very little swearing, soulmate au, school lockdown drill, reader has anxiety and something that can be classified as a panic attack, forced proximity, bestfriend!kenma kozume, reader being angsty, this is not proofread!!

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“I don’t know, Ken.” I sigh, my eyes darting around my room trying to avoid his piercing eyes. His watchful, can-see-through-me eyes.

Kenma was gathered on my bed, effectively ruffling my bedding that I perfectly made this morning. His two-toned hair framed his soft face, however, the dark golden eyes that he possessed were anything but.

“Hm. You talk about how you want your soulmate but then switch and say you don’t want one..” He trails off, reading right through me.

It’s not like I don’t want a soulmate per se, it’s just that I’m nervous. I mean, a person who is destined to love me forever? Sounds a lot like baloney.

Kenma and I have been friends for a while, ever since I took interest in new hobbies like video games we’ve been friends. However, much to his dissatisfaction and annoyance, I only play animal crossing.

He’s helped me with any anxiety moment I’ve had within the last few years, including this one.

“You’re of age.” He comments, his voice giving me all the comfort and confidence I need. Taking one last glance at me, he unpaused his game on his nintendo switch and continued.

The sounds of game shooting was lightly heard as I sunk farther into my desk chair. My window was open and the breeze flew through my hair, brushing small strands against my cheeks. I looked out to the bright blue sky and right then and there I finalized my decision.

I would write to them.

Being 18 meant that I’d have access to contacting my soulmate through writing on my skin. I’ve never written before but it’s been two months since I’ve turned 18 and it’s due.

I wouldn’t even know if my soulmate would write back. What if they were not 18 yet? What if they’re already in a relationship? What if we don’t speak the same language?

What if I don’t have one?

These thoughts rushed through my head at once. I immediately sat up straight and grabbed the pink pen that was sitting on my white desk.

I’ll put an end to my thinking, besides there’s a huge chance they wouldn’t respond, right?

Without stopping my movements I wrote a little, ‘Hi’ on my left arm in pink ink.

I breathed a sigh of relief, I didn’t need to worry about not contacting my soulmate anymore.

Putting that behind me I raised my arm up to show Kenma, “Ken, I did it.” I spoke into the semi-quiet silence.

Without so much as a glance, “I knew you would. Didn’t realize it’d take you this long.”

I could practically hear the taunting in his voice knowing that he meant it. I was a bit of a scaredy cat sometimes.

“They won’t even respond,” I commented nervously.

An entire night passed by in which I sent Kenma home from my house, having tired of his presence. I still hadn’t had a response from my soulmate by then and I wasn’t worried that much anymore.

I would even go on a limb and say that I was kind of content, until I felt a small tickling coming from my right arm. My eyes widened as I roughly shoved my long-sleeved shirt arm up.

‘Hey :)’ was written on my arm. The hand writing seemed neat and sloppy at the same time. It was in a green pen, kind of a weird color in my opinion.

I couldn’t help the rate of my heart as I stared at the word. I thought so many things about my soulmate but I never realized that I would get a response. Or one with a smiley face for that matter.

I couldn’t help but to pull my sleeve down, the message getting hidden within my sleeve. I don’t think I’m that ready yet. Maybe a shower will help me feel like in tune and confident again to respond.

However, that turned into maybe a nights rest, a breakfast bowl, talking with Kenma and until it was lunchtime the next day.

“Stop. Here, respond.” Kenma’s sharp voice spoke, his eyes telling the same story as his voice.

The one person I couldn’t escape that makes me do the shit that I actually need to do.

I nervously furrowed my brows and took the pen from him. Our lunch was spent on the rooftop only because I absolutely begged Kenma to come with me. I needed support in these harsh times but he decided to torture me.

“Fine,” My voice nervously grew.

With a shaker hand I started with, ‘Sorry, busy day. I guess I’m your soulmate’

It was cringe and awkward but it got the job done. I looked at my handiwork for two seconds before trying to take a bite of my food from my bento box.

‘Avoiding me, soulmate?’

A reply came quick from the other half of me. My eyes bulged out of my head but before I could pretend it didn’t happen an irritating voice spoke.

“Do I really need to write for you?” Kenma annoyingly spoke as if I was inconveniencing him by not responding to my soulmate.

“Uhgm, no,” I grumbled and fastened my lunch box then continued with the ink pen.

‘Never!’

I slightly smiled, even though I didn’t even know the first thing about love or my soulmate, it was kind of fun trying to continue a conversation.

‘What’s your name ;)’

A writing came back to me quickly. I used some of my germ-x on a tissue to wipe off my writings because I wasn’t ambidextrous. I had a feeling my soulmate could be since I was getting writings on both of my arms.

‘Call me (Y/n)’ I responded after my skin dried enough for me to write on it.

The breeze of the wind calmed me down more, it always seemed to ground me in times like these.

That’s really how I spent my lunch break with Kenma. It wasn’t really with Kenma but writing to my soulmate instead, with Ken’s pushing of course.

By the end of my lunch break I had a nickname for my soulmate which was, ‘Tetsu’. He was 6’2, same age as me, and his favorite color was red. I thought it was strange how much of a coincidence it was that he had to go at the same time I did.

The chiming of the bells signaled for us to pack up and head to our next classes. Going to school at Nekoma was pretty great. I had a best friend who pushed me to my best in his own way. I was pretty good with my academics and never needed tutoring.

It seemed as if the summertime coming up was the perfect time, adding along the newfound excitement I’ve gotten from speaking with my soulmate.

Every time we talked it was so captivating that I even had stopped and wrote to him in class sometimes. That was really unlike my usual. My usual was always paying attention, helping my classmates around me and taking notes to study later.

A random thought crashed against my head while I was studiously gazing outside the window of my class. I could never get enough of the beautiful weather and view.

When was my soulmates birthday?

My birthday was February 28th and now it’s two months later but from how soon Tetsu responded to my message wouldn’t that mean he’s been 18 longer than I have? And if he’s been 18 longer than I have, why didn’t he write me?

I slowed my pace, my eyes drifted down to the slowing steps of my black indoor shoes. The embarrassment ranged through me as I came to a hurtful conclusion.

I wrote at the wrong time. Tetsu wasn’t ready for me. I probably inconvenienced him because I’m just that helpless of a person.

The annoying tears stung my eyes as I changed into my regular shoes from my locker. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was to really think that he would want me. He doesn’t even know me, hasn’t even met me.

“(Y/n).”

I looked up from my walk outside the school to see Kenma with his bag slung across his shoulder. His other hand holding his game. My bottom lip trembled as I could unfortunately see the sympathy in his eyes. He didn’t even know what happened and he cares.

I ran into his arms, not caring about who was around to see. It’s not really like anyone was and if they were they kept to their own business.

He sighed and rubbed my back with his free hand as a couple of tears slipped from my eyes onto his uniform which soaked them up like a sponge.

I heard footsteps coming towards us until a small movement from Kenma made the footsteps start to retreat.

A scary thought passed through my head at that exact moment, how I wished Kenma was my soulmate.

The lump in my throat only grew when I slowly broke the semi-hug he tried to comfort me with.

Blinking back the embarrassing tears, I gave him a somewhat half smile and started to continue my—our— walk to my house.

“So, want to tell me or do you need me?” Kenma quietly asked, poking me on the back of my head when I collapsed face down into my bed.

“You.” My voiced muffled but I’m sure he clearly heard it.

A sigh was heard before he climbed into the bed with me. He sat up right, his hand delicately stroking my shoulder and back comfortingly.

“Ken, this sounds bad.. but I wished you were my soulmate today instead of him..” I quietly mumbled, it wasn’t something that would come true. Kenma didn’t have feelings for me and I didn’t have feelings for him. It was a mutual respect kind of thing between us but I know with me saying that, I crossed a line.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and then immediately began to gather his things from my floor.

“Ken? Kenma, what are you doing?” I worriedly questioned, hoping and praying that I didn’t just lose my only real friend.

“Leaving. You can’t just say things like that (Y/n). You don’t know him yet, nor his feelings.” His cold voice cooley told me. He left, closing my bedroom door while he was at it without so much as a spare glance at me.

I couldn’t stop the tears. I wasn’t surprised how my actions led me here, more so my overthinking. I shoved my head into my hands, negatively ignoring the harsh grazing at my arms repeatedly throughout the night.

I trudged into school with an umbrella in hand. Of course it decided to rain when I wasn’t feeling the best. Kenma hadn’t answered any of my messages I sent him. Coincidentally, I hadn’t answered any of the words Tetsu had wrote me.

I shoved my things into my locker and realized I had forgotten the time and was going to be late to class. That is until an announcement came on to the intercom scaring me into next year.

“Lockdown. Lockdown. I repeat Lockdown, lockdown. This is not a drill.” The monotone voice spoke out and sent a shrill of fear through my body. Almost every classroom was closed or beginning to be closed.

I panicked, I started running through the empty halls trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide myself.

A hand grabbed my own and yanked me into what looked like a cleaning closet. I was about to scream until a large hand covered my mouth. I couldn’t see in the darkness but heard a low, soothing voice.

“It’s okay. I’m a student too.” The male tried to comfort me in my panicked state.

A lock sound was heard from our side of the door, he locked it. The fearful nerves calmed down a bit but being this close to the door and my breathing being this rapid wasn’t helping.

Turns out there was a lot of space in the cleaning closet. The good thing was we were able to hide ourselves behind plenty of cleaning outfits and supplies. The bad thing was in order for no one to hear me from outside the door, we had to be trapped in close.

My knees were pressed against the males’ as I tried to calm my breathing down.

“Are you okay? I know this is scary.” He soothed me, a gentle hand coming to lay on my knee.

He was trying to ground me from my fear.

It was hard to see him but after taking the voice into account I definitely recognized it. I’ve heard this voice in some of my classes before too.

“I’m fine. Thanks for helping and hiding me.” I whispered, I knew that no one would be able to hear me but I whispered anyway.

“Of course, (Y/n).” He spoke out, making me freeze. How did he know my name? I didn’t even know his.

“You know me? Isn’t that amazing?” I embarrassingly said, thankful he couldn’t necessarily see how red my face was turning.

“I think I should know the name of my soulmate, considering how she’s friends with my same friend.” He easily said and I nearly combusted.

“What’s your name?” I warily asked, I wouldn’t dare take his word for real until I knew his name. There wouldn’t be any way that my soulmate was here with me in this cleaning closet.

“Kuroo.”

“Oh.” My voice came out sounding nearly like disappointment. He’s not my soulmate. My heart stopped beating as fast as it had and seemed to be beating slower due to the angst feeling inside of me.

“Sorry, I just thought—I’ve been trying to—well, I mean that I-“ I exhaled, stopping my stammering which only happened in states like these that I’m in.

“The first name is Tetsurō.” He stated to me, I could feel the piercing gaze from him.

It all suddenly clicked right then and there. What Kenma said about reaching out, about not considering everything, about the nickname my soulmate gave me.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

“You’re Tetsu..” I trailed, my voice evident of shock.

Suddenly the position we both were in seemed a little too intimate and intense for me. I tried shifting a bit to give me a clear head but only made us close by adjusting my legs on him.

Kuroo’s warm hands held my legs in place, “I tried writing to you, (Y/n).” He did his best to hold my gaze before I looked away into the darkness.

“I tried for three months. I didn’t give up because I had hope, I just thought when you’d turn of age you’d finally write me.” He tried to devoid his voice from any emotion but I could hear it, feel it even.

“Three months? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Kuroo. I was just so nervous, I just couldn’t.” I tried explaining to him why I had did what I did.

“I know, I’m friends with Kenma you know? I wanted you to come to me by your own ways but I suppose I did push Kenma a bit. Telling him to crack down on you, giving him advice how to comfort you. I just knew when I saw you on your birthday and it was you.”

Words could not explain how much those simple sentences meant the world to me. Kuroo did all of that to ensure that I was ready to come to him.

My heart melted.

“Thank you, for letting me come at my time.” I shyly confessed, still hiding—or trying to—hide myself.

“You’re welcome, soulmate. I needed a way to help you calm down and decided why not today to do it?” He chuckled, patting my thigh with his warm hand.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe it was the way he knew me. Maybe it was the way he let me come to him—with the help of our friend. Maybe it was just him.

The ear prickling noise of the intercom announced that the lockdown was over and deemed it as a successful drill.

I was scared for no reason, my annoyance was something that couldn’t be stopped. I seriously thought I was in danger.

Kuroo and I shuffled out of the closet and I got a good look at him. More so the height difference between us.

“How about we hit up a tea shop on the way home?” Tetsu offered, a little shine to his dark eyes when speaking to me.

Putting my nervousness aside, I agreed. After that we couldn’t stop writing to each other because it seemed way more intimate than texting.

However, I did share my findings with Kenma. He was pretty proud of me—in his own way—of finding my soulmate.

I couldn’t wait for those bells to chime, signaling the tea date I’d have with Tetsu.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you guys liked and let me know if you want more or have any requests!

the header is made by me, please like/blog if used <3

[thewolvesof1998]

Hiiii Wolf 💕💕💕

Buck and Christopher are baking Christmas cookies!

-how many are they making?

-what kinds are they making?

-what do they end up doing with them all?

And anything you can think of to describe the scene!

Have fun with it!! ☺️

Hi Saturn 🪐 !!!

I'm going to use this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

Oh okay, so this sent me down a rabbit hole of sugar cookies and the types of frosting and now I'm going to have to bake some. So I had my first and only ever sugar cookie when I was in Ohio in March. It was sooooo fucking good and I'm pretty sure it was buttercream icing because it was so light and fluffy. I also love making white chocolate butter cream icing so I'm excited to make sugar cookies with it.

Anyways, your questions!

Buck and Chris are making Christmas cookies for Chris's class, maybe they're having a bake sale or maybe it's just to spread some holiday cheer, either way, they are making so many cookies, that the trays are spread out all over Eddie's kitchen. Here are Buck's inspiration photos (because of course he made a Pinterest board for it):

And just image him and Chris making all of these cookies:

And here's a snippet from Someone to be Gentle (which already had a cookie baking scene and I might have already posted most of this so if you've read this before no you haven't):

When Eddie walks in the front door of his house it's to the smell of freshly baked cookies and the sound of his kid cackling like he’s done something cheeky and he knows he’s going to get away with it because, as Buck says, ‘Look at that face, how could you be mad at him?’.  Eddie follows the sound, can hear the timber of Buck’s laugh join and harmonise until it’s a cacophony that feels like it’s rubbing aloe on his therapy raw soul. He rounds the corner into his living room and is standing in the door of his kitchen taking in the chaotic sense. There are trays, so many trays, of sugar cookies, half are iced in shades of green and white, the others laid bare. Chris still has his back to Eddie, head tilted back in laughter but Eddie can see Buck, can see the green icing smeared across his cheek and the fake look of outrage on his face that is betrayed by the laughter falling from his lips.  A far too familiar ache rips through his chest, his breath catches and eyes start to burn with tears that have become so common lately that he’s surprised they haven’t left permanent marks on his cheeks. He ducks away, not wanting his darkness to mar their happiness any more than it already has. He slumps down onto the couch, head already in his hands trying to push the tears back into his eyes as if that would erase the fact that they were ever there.  A hand lands on his shoulder, it stretches from scar to shoulder blade, “Eddie?” “I’m good, I’m fine,” He says without looking up, his voice all crackly with emotion. He senses more than sees Buck sit down opposite him, the coffee table creaking under his weight, Eddie always in tune with every movement Buck makes. His hand never breaks contact, the warmth and steadiness of his palm in sharp contrast to how Eddie’s shaking like a leaf.  “You know it’s okay if you're not fine,” Buck pauses as if he’s gathering his thoughts or courage, “You don’t always have to be strong with me, I’m not going to judge you or-or run away, Eddie.” Eddie shakes his head, “You don’t want this, it’s messy, I’m a mess,” as if to emphasise the point he wipes away snot with the edge of his sleeve.  “Of course I do, we’re partners,” Eddie’s eyes flicker up to Bucks, his edges are a blur because of the tears but his cheeks are flushed pink as they usually do when Buck’s on a passionate roll, “best friends, I-I want the bad as well as the good, I want to be there when you’re at your worst, let me have your back.” A sob tears out of his chest, it sounds an awful lot like Buck’s name. And he’s not sure if he’s folding forward or if Buck’s reeling him but his arms are around Eddie, holding him close to his chest and something snaps within him. His fingers twist into Buck’s shirt as he cries into his shoulder soaking the material with tears and snot in a way he hasn’t done since he was a little kid crying in his mother’s arms, before the ‘you have to be the man of the house’, before he learnt it was bad to show weakness. And he knows that's not true, been teaching his own son it’s not but it’s so much easier to be kind to others than it is yourself. 

The poem it's based on

first snippet second snippet

tagging people for Tease Tidbit Tuesday: @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters @monsterrae1 @princehattric @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

[tr-mha-fan]

🥀Memories Pt. 2 🥀

An epilogue for 'Memories'

Part 1 here

⚠️TW:⚠️ Check part 1 AND selfharm

"I'm sorry Kei, I love you..." your arms suddenly went limp around Keisuke's neck. Your skin went cold. The short frantic breaths you were heaving a second ago stopped.

Baji's steps slowed and came to a compete halt. His eyes widened, his breathing picked up.

He had, just now, and in his own arms, lost the love of his life. And what made it worse, the engagement ring in his pocket, the one he never got to give you.

He couldn't understand why.

Why did it have to be you?

Why were you the one standing in the shooting range of those scumbags?

Why wasn't it him?

Why were you the one who died?

Why didn't he save you?

"I'm the worst..." Came Keisuke's worn out voice, gripping his hair. He hadn't slept in days. Not since that day.

He barely ate unless his mother forced the food down his throat. His eye bags were growing more visible by the second.

Chifuyu, the only friend who stayed by you guys' side after the fight, would pass by everyday. The poor blond was worried for his friend. He knew how much it hurt, you were his best friend. It hurt him losing you, too.

But, seeing the person he looked up to in such a state, his heart shattered more than once since your funeral.

Poor Chifuyu stopped by you and Baji's shared apartment- now only Baji's apartment- to cook. He would clean up, gather all the beer cans, the cigarette butts.

His heart ached.

Today wasn't any different. Chifuyu woke up, showered, changed, skipped breakfast, and made his way to Keisuke's place.

The young male rang the doorbell, but, like usual, there was no answer. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a spare key (you gave it to him a while back since you trust him) and unlocked the front door.

As usual, he cooked breakfast for the depressed ravenette who barely left his room, unless he wants to drink more.

"Baji-san?" Chifuyu called out, peeking through the bedroom door. "I made you breakfast."

No answer. Chifuyu sighed, knowing he won't be getting one.

"I'll leave the tray here, please eat." With that, he left the room, which used to smell like flowers and perfume, that now reeks of alcohol and smoke.

"I'll clean up the bathrooms today," Chifuyu mumbled to himself.

After picking up the dirty pile of laundry from the bathroom floor, Chifuyu put the clothes in the washer, returning to the bathroom with a broom and Clorox (I hate the smell of this thing but it's necessary when cleaning😒)

Putting the spray bottle of cleaning liquid on the counter, Chifuyu leaned down to the floor, picking up a small box. "Hm? What's this?"

Oh, only if he hadn't seen it. If only he ignored it. Put it up somewhere without opening it. He really wished he had, for now, he was sitting on the bathroom floor, bawling his eyes out once more.

Why? Why is the world so cruel?

There, inside that small box, was an engagement ring. But, that wasn't it. That wasn't what made the young man cry.

It was the bloody blade beside it.

Chifuyu sprung off the floor, speeding towards the main bedroom.

"Baji-san!!" Chifuyu cried out, anger apparent in his voice. He instinctively glanced towards the food tray, sighing a breath of relief when he saw that the cup of water was half empty. The food was untouched, but At least he drank something other than beer.

Keisuke made no movements, as if completely ignoring Chifuyu's presence.

"Baji-san! What is this?!" The green (blue???) Eyed boy asked, facial expressions much softer than his voice.

No answer.

Chifuyu noticed the tip of a white bandage peeking out from beneath the long sleeved shirt Baji was wearing. Eyes filling with worry, he shook the black haired male, trying to wake him up. But to no avail.

Matsuno pulled the covers off of Baji, pretty roughly, but what he saw underneath...horrified him.

.

.

.

Right there

Right beside his best friends body, was an opened pill bottle, only a few pills left inside.

.

.

Chifuyu's eyes warily glanced at the cup on the bedside table which was half full.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He shook Keisuke more, "Baji-san! Baji-san?!" Voice panicked, he didn't know what to do.

Quick! Check his heartbeat! His brain whispered.

Grabbing Baji's wrist, and pressing his thumb to the (arteries? Veins? I really don't know) he felt... Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

.

.

His knees gave up on him, falling to the floor. Eyes wide, tears streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls.

.

.

Is he really going to have to attend a second friend's funeral in less than a month?

Hehe, I hope I hurt your heart.😈 My heart ached writing this honestly, but I had to! I had another idea in mind but things decided to go this way and I like it better anyway!

Kazutora out!

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Warm Company

Halsin x F! Plus Sized Tav, Set between Part 2 and 3

18+, feelings of undeserving, pining, touch starved, tenderness, heavy petting, fingering (f!), rough sex, Halsin being so sweet

listening to: Movement - Hozier, Sand - Dove Cameron

-

"Would you like some company?"

Startled, Tav looked up. Embarrassingly wiping her eyes. Gods was there a place to be alone anymore.

Softened when she saw it was Halsin, the kindest mountain of a man.

"Sorry," She wiped her face with her sleeve. "Just having a moment.."

"Would you like me to go?"

Pulling her lower lip into her mouth, sitting back on her haunches. "No, no, it.."

Sighing in defeat. "It might actually be good to get it out. Talk about it."

He sat down next to her on the grass, a large hand against her back. Drawing reassured circles. "Tell me."

The touch drawing new tears to her. Gods she had been touched, been held, so little in her life. It still felt overwhelming sometimes.

"It's, ugh Gods... Its Astarion." Let out a mean laugh at herself. At her pining. At her crush. "I've been infatuated with him for a while, he only sees me as a friend. A traveling companion."

Screwed her eyes shut. "His friendship is so so precious to me. That he trusts me and feels safe, Gods finally feels kind of okay. I know so deeply how that feels, to be a scared animal in the dark... But I cant help wanting more. Wanting him. I'm selfish. I'm-"

It was a dam breaking, a torrent pouring out.

"Tav," Halsin said suddenly, tone stern. Stopping her tirade. "You are not selfish."

Wiped one of her tears, the callous of his fingers brushing against her cheek. She closed her eyes, heart leaping.

"Astarion is.." Gathered his thoughts. "A deeply troubled person. As are you," She laughed wetly. "As are we all. Yet you have come a tremendous way, a great deal of understanding and processing your pain. Much farther along in your journey. Incredible truly, what you've unraveled. The love you still have in your heart for the world, for us." Hand to his chest. "I have faith that he'll get there, that he'll catch up to you. Then he can see you, see the beautiful light that you are."

She stared up at him, the warmth in his eyes. How he looked back at her, unguarded, nothing to hide.

"Kiss me." She breathed, shocking herself.

A warm hand slid to cup her cheek, the other encircling the outside of her thigh.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," She whispered to him. Heart hammering. "I need to be touched right now. Be loved."

"I'd be honored." He murmured against her temple.

Holding back more threatening tears she slid her mouth against his.

Tav was not a small Drow, usually towering over people. Seeing the tops of heads as she walked. Her body was thick, full, tall.

But Halsin dwarfed her. The hand on her thigh with a wide reach, thumb reaching the sensitive skin on the inside. It made her chest flutter.

Feeling her need rising, she pushed her hand into his long hair. The tip of his ear sharp against her knuckle.

Still cupping her face so tenderly, he kissed her deeply. Slow. Setting her aflame.

Her free hand wandered to his chest, the muscles an expanse. Gods there was just so much of him. She finally didn't feel like she was going to break her lover. Fingers along his clavicle, savoring.

Hand in his hair laguidly scratching.

He groaned into her mouth, pulling her closer. Large hand running up the small of her back.

She naturally slid onto his lap, straddling him. It felt so instinctual, always did with her if she was honest, but especially here. Especially with him. Like he was designed to be loved.

She pulled at the hem of his tunic, lifting. He followed her, pulling it over his head, dropping into the grass.

"How do you look like that," She admonished, out loud she realized.

He chuckled, "The compliments are welcome, but you..."

Trailing his fingers down the curve of her neck, eyes full of wonder. "You are the one to be marveled at here."

She bit her lip. "You're going to make me cry again." Barely a joke. Stop being so sweet. She thought.

Another chuckle, low in his throat. "Apologies."

Stop being so good to me.

She pushed both hands into his hair, mouth hungry, demanding. Hips sliding into him.

"Take my top off."

His hands dutifully pulled the blouse free, dropping it near his in the grass.

"Touch me, please."

His hands on her waist, her hips, her chest. One finger tracing along her hardened peaks. She moaned lightly into his sweet mouth.

"More," A whine this time.

He broke away, mouth moving to her neck. Suckling and licking. She shivered against him as he moved to her ear, nibbling. Could feel his hardness against her. Straddled closer into him.

Took his hand, led it down the front of her. Positioning it right above her entrance. Urging.

He nodded into her neck, fingers working to open her ties. Other arm wrapping around her ass, lifting her. Pulling them off in one smooth motion.

The lifting made her ache, like she weighed nothing. Her need an inferno.

Now bare against him, his hands found her. Sliding two fingers down her slit, so warm.

She bucked into him, already so wet. His fingers swirling into her clit.

"Yes," She breathed, eyes fluttering closed.

Perfect hard circles. His mouth trailing down her chest, pushing his body forward. Hand bracing her fall as he led her down onto her back.

Hand still working he straddled between her, his body a shadow over her in the moonlight. Her hands ran up his wide shoulders, legs spread to accommodate him.

Mouth finding her nipple, swirling, nipping.

She groaned, undignified.

Two fingers sliding inside her. Hooking into her, pulsing.

"Gods, yes." She whimpered. "Just like that."

Even just the two was filling her, what would three do? What would his cock do? She thought, shivering. Though she doubted she would make it that far, at this rate.

Already shaking against him, her hips telltale. The tightening in her pelvis. The sound of his fingers in and out of her drenched core.

"Three, three fingers.." She moaned, knowing she was drawing near.

He moaned into her chest in agreement, his ring finger pushing into her.

She groaned loudly, pushing her hips hard into his hand. An animal rutting. Grinding her clit into his palm when he would push into her.

"Harder," She urged. Meaner. Make it hurt.

He took a handful of her hair, pulled it taut. Hand rough, pushing and pulsing.

Her build almost to its peak, finally getting what she needed. What she craved. What she couldn't get from the one she desired.

"Let go," He said, his words tender, his hands violent. "I'll catch you."

Back arching, head thrown back she released against him. Drowning in her pleasure, gasping and writhing. A burning ache, a smothering wave, one after another after another. The onslaught of his hands not slowing she rode the tide, a cry escaping her throat. Begged for it to never stop.

She fell back, exhausted. His hand slowing, gently sliding against her core. Arm snaking under her, pulling her into his chest.

She fell into him, ashamed to have fresh tears already sprouting in her eyes. "Thank you."

He smiled, pushed her hair away from her face. "It was a pleasure."

~

[leejungchans]

title : h.js

word count | 0.8k

pairing | joshua hong (svt) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | brief alcohol mentions and consumption (please lmk if i missed anything!)

genre | fluff, established relationship au, ceo au

summary | in which your husband is all too happy to remind people of your new title.

a/n | not a request from my 1k event (i promise i’m working on them!!) but @joshuas and i were talking ab this and i had to write this before i forget <3 this is for u ria no anti <33

“Nervous?”

You adjust the gentle grip on your husband’s arm to avoid wrinkling his sleeve before flashing him a smile. It’s soft, elegant, but self-assured.

“No. Should I be?” you ask, cocking a curious brow at Joshua as you walk in through the entrance. “I’ve been to these events with you before.” The sound of your heels clacking along the polished tiles bounces off the walls, walls that are lined with exquisite paintings and sconces with bulbs that mimic the look of real candles without the fire hazard.

Joshua’s free hand reaches up to pat yours, the one resting in the bend of his elbow. “I know, darling, but you know how my associates can be sometimes,” you have to suppress a snort while he continues, “many of them weren’t invited to the wedding, I don’t want you to be overwhelmed by their prying.”

“I’ll be okay, Joshua. Don’t worry.”

He hums thoughtfully, twinkling dark eyes meeting yours as the corners of his lips curve upwards warmly. “Tap my arm three times if you want me to cut in.”

Ah, always so considerate of your comfort. You’re a lucky woman.

Your deep red gown swishes gracefully with your every movement, just barely kissing the ground as you spy the main ballroom just ahead of you. After yet another successful year of leading his company, your husband is celebrating by throwing his annual gala at a hotel whose name you’ll surely butcher, though he also insists it’s just as much of a celebration for you—after countless years of gruelling effort, you’ve finally gotten your doctorate, and to say your husband is proud of you is an extreme understatement.

You don’t know when you were passed a flute of champagne, but you’re not complaining. The cold beverage fizzes pleasantly on your tongue when you take a sip, and for a moment you’re so transfixed by the golden bubbles rising to the surface that you don’t notice one of Joshua’s closest associates approaching the two of you.

“Seungcheol, thanks for coming,” Joshua says sincerely, his face glowing with happiness as they shake hands in greeting. “I know how busy you are, so I appreciate seeing you here tonight.”

Seungcheol’s plump lips curve into a lopsided grin. “Ah, well, I wouldn’t miss any of your gatherings for the world, and congratulations on all the achievements this year. Really good stuff.” His eyes flit to you, then to your hand that’s tucked into the bend of Joshua’s arm where the new diamond band on your ring finger catches the light brilliantly. “So sorry I wasn’t able to attend the wedding, Mrs Hong, but I’m sure it was lovely.”

Unsure whether he was being sarcastic, you look over to Joshua for help. “We—”

“We would’ve loved to have more people,” your husband says smoothly, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. You resist the urge to shiver at the warmth from his hand, separated from your skin only by the smooth silk of your dress. “But we wanted to keep it small, just close friends and family. And actually,” you don’t miss the mischievous gleam in his eye when he glances over at you, “it’s Dr. L/N, now.”

Realisation flickers across Seungcheol’s face. “Ah, my apologies. Congratulations Dr. L/N, Joshua’s mentioned a few times how hard you worked for it.” You smile shyly in thanks, feeling Joshua rub soothing circles to your side with his thumb. “So much happy news tonight, I’ll have to circle back to you later to properly congratulate you both.”

Seungcheol excuses himself politely, and you watch with Joshua as he expertly weaves through the crowd with practised ease, turning back to your husband when his associate all but disappears from your sight, safely out of earshot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say, but there is a warm feeling that blooms in your chest at how pleased he sounded when he corrected Seungcheol. “I’m perfectly fine with being addressed as Mrs Hong. You probably embarrassed the poor man,” you scold lightly.

Joshua merely leans in to press his lips to your temple, his arm still keeping you impossibly close to himself. “Well, my lovely, beautiful, smart wife worked so hard for years and years to get her title, I think she deserves to use it.”

“Stop it,” you mutter half-heartedly as heat floods your cheeks at his praise, though your flustered reaction only makes him chuckle softly while the two of you move further into the room.

“I’m only stating the truth, darling. Now, are you ready for more mingling, Dr. L/N?”

As corny as it is, you decide to play along. It’s not your fault your husband’s so endearing, even in the cheesiest of moments that bring a slight grimace to your face. “As long as you’re with me, Mr Hong.”

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 it tells content creators what you like and motivates them to keep creating for you <3

[persphonesorchid]

Backyard Boy - JJK

Summary: Jungkook loves you, he won't tell you now, but maybe someday. Right now, he's just gonna look after you.

Genre: Fluff, a little angst, unrequited (?) love, best friend to if we wait a moment we'll get there au.

Warnings: Just that Jungkook refuses to let anything destroy his precious friendship with you.

Word count: 1.3k

See my other works: Here :)

Notes: Requested by @euphoricfilter thank you so much for requesting Darling!! I'm sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it!

Loving you is as easy as breathing.

The easy rise and fall of an automatic motion, cresting like a wave and falling like a sigh.

Childlike, the excitement of stomping in puddles in a downpour not caring if you’ll catch a cold.

A lukewarm cup of tea on a spring morning, basking in the rising sun and the calls of the city.

Jungkook loved you as a friend at first, because he’s cautious, wears his heart on his sleeve but not for anyone to hold. Until you came with your sunshine smile and starlit eyes.

It took a long while to get here, through the random run-ins and the shy hellos. Through late night calls, texts in the same minute and shared friend group gatherings.

Sometimes Jungkook was a little scared, that at some point it’ll all shatter like glass and that glass would become sand and blow away.

Sometimes, he wants more than what you give him. When he says ‘I love you’ at the end of a phone call, a text or in parting, you reply in kind, automatically. Because you’re his best friend and he’s yours. You’re supposed to love each other.

He doesn’t mean it like that, not in the way he knows that you think. He loves you, he just doesn’t think you understand it yet.

He knew when he realized that he’d drop everything and come running even if you were halfway across the world; he’d find a way. He’ll pull the stars from the sky if you wanted, he’d walk on hot coals to reach you – and that sounds extreme, but it’s how he feels and drawing that picture barely measures up.

He chuckles at this now, because he’s standing in a soup shop waiting for your order. A plastic bag hanging from his wrist filled with whatever medication the pharmacist recommended. He even called your boss for you. When he found you nursing a headache with a too high temperature he thought it was for the best.

When he got your food, he walked as quickly as his legs could carry him back to your apartment.

It was as quiet as he left it – you’ve probably crawled back into bed after camping out on your couch all morning.

Jungkook slips out of his shoes and into his designated house slippers, and to your kitchen to get a tray and utensils.

When he gets to your bedroom, you’re wrapped up in the sheets even though he’d told you not to bundle up. He’s not even sure where your head’s at.

“Hey, I got you medicine, and you have to eat before you take any of it.” Jungkook says, feeling as though you’re not really listening, though he supposes it’s because he’s talking to a you shaped lump.

The lump lets out a groan and shifts, sheets rustling with the movement of your hands, and tired eyes peak out from under it.

“Can you sit up? You need to eat this before I give you anything.” He motions at the tray in his hands with the tilt of his chin.

“What’s it?” Your voice is a bit rough and he guesses that your sore throat has gotten worse since he left thirty minutes ago.

“Soup. Got it from the place you like.” He sets the tray down on your nightstand, after shifting around the box of tissues and the unopened bottle of water he gave you to drink. “I told you to drink the water.”

“It hurts my throat.”

“You have to stay hydrated.” Jungkook sighs, helping you sit up, propping a pillow behind your back. Setting the tray on your lap he pops the styrofoam lid off, “Eat as much as you can okay? I’ll be right back.”

He goes off to your bathroom, letting the tub fill up with warm water while he thinks.

He wonders if you know, if somehow you’ve picked up on it. He tries to be careful, tries to not let it show too much. You know him well enough to know that his advances are the way they always were; Jungkook has never acted any different.

He cares a lot and he’s always been caring, even when he and you were just friends he’s been nothing more than he is. When you both became best friends he stayed the same.

His friends think otherwise, they know, he knows, and you don’t seem to. Jungkook thinks he prefers it that way, he’s not too big on changes. Changes are scary, big changes are a nightmare; Jungkook doesn’t want things to change. Telling you anything will change everything.

He’s standing in the middle of a three-way street. The one straight ahead is the road where everything stays the same, you’ll go on none the wiser and he’ll remain just your best friend. The one leading right, he’s not too certain of, and it’s the same on the left.

He can pick any of them, he knows that one of them would probably lead a good way, and you and him can be happy despite the change and he’d realize that nothing really changed at all. Or, the other one, well, that could ruin everything. He can go there and pull his own heart out of his chest in the process.

He likes where he is now, hovering in the uncertain and not sure where to go. At least, if he stands still enough, everything would stay still, too.

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head as though it would clear the thoughts from it and send them out his ears. He shuts the tap off when the water is high enough and turns, startled to find you right behind him.

“Fuc-Y/n.”

You peek around him, pointing at the bathtub, “That’s for me?”

“No, it’s for Jimin.”

“Minnie’s here?” The sarcasm flies completely over your head, you turn a little too quickly and stumble a bit.

“He’s not...has the fever gone to your head?” He chuckles as he steadies you, he turns you back around and checks to be sure. It’s gone down but not completely broken, and Jungkook sits you down on the closed lid of the toilet. “Did you finish eating?”

You shake your head, but it’s not like he expected otherwise. “did you take anything from the bag I bought?”

“Just the cough syrup, and I’m sleepy now.”

“It’ll be best if you sleep, but get in there for now and I’ll get you some clothes, yeah?” He reaches for the cabinet next to the mirror, setting the bath oils on the counter, “Want me to put these in for you?”

“I got it, Kook.” There’s a ghost of a smile on your lips and Jungkook leaves you be.

Going through your closet, Jungkook isn’t shocked to find some of his clothes in there. Though, some of them are sweaters he didn’t even realize he was missing.

He picks the warmest of them out and sweatpants he knows would be big on you – your skin’s easily irritated by materials when you’re sick; he’d rather not have you feeling miserable on top of your cold.

Afterwards, he lugs some light sheets out to the living room and dumps them on the couch. He turns the TV on and waits until you’re done in the bathroom.

When you come out into the living room, wearing his clothes and carrying the bag he brought he makes room for you on the couch.

You curl up with your head against his thigh, pulling the sheet up to your chin. “You’ll get sick too, you know.”

Jungkook shrugs because it doesn’t really matter if he does, he just wants to look after you. “Won’t be the first time.”

You pull his arm underneath the sheet to play with his fingers, where it’s almost too warm, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.

“Thanks for looking after me,” you murmur, and Jungkook could tell you were already halfway asleep. “I love you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, “I love you, too.”

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @eoieopda @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @nabiolive @luaspersona @dontstoptime @allhobbitstoisengard

[wandafiction]

10 Out Of 10 Dive - Just Us Chapter 36

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2671

Series List | Chapter 35 | Chapter 37

================================

(Wanda PoV)

I freeze on the spot. Holy shit I didn't mean for those words to come out of my mouth, but they did and it's too late now, there is no turning back. Y/n hasn't said anything but I did feel her grip me tighter, so I know she definitely heard. What if she doesn't feel the same? What if this was all a huge mistake? Me and my big mouth I couldn't just keep those words buried deep down inside could I? No. It felt good to say them…

She still isn't saying anything…

Why isn't she saying anything?

I've scared her off... 

But she is still holding me…

Say something. Please fucking say something.

"You love me?" Okay so she said something. 

I pull away from the embrace slightly so I can look up into those captivating eyes that tell 1000 different stories all at once. Her hands come to gently rest on the sides of my arm, while I move my palms flat to her chest as I rub up and down it with miniscule movements: afraid I've already scared her off with my words I don't want to scare her off with my movements. She moves her hands so they move up and under the t-shirt sleeves so there is the skin on skin contact that I always melt into and cherish. Her thumbs rubbing gently at the skin just below my shoulders. I press my lips together, gathering my thoughts on what to tell her, but I can't tell her anything different because she already heard the words. So I am going to explain why I love her. I hope she feels the same or is getting to a point where she does because of course she does not have to say the words if she is not ready. I just, subconsciously, needed her to know where I was at. Stupid subconscious for making this amazing morning into this, stupid 3 word talk.

"I do. I love you Y/n. I really do love you so much." I let out a small sigh as the words leave my lips but continue on. "I love everything about you. I love the way you take care of me in and out of the bedroom, I love how you always ask me about how I am feeling or what I want to do. I love how you ask for my opinion on matters that I thought wouldn't need my opinion, but when you ask for it my heart skips so many beats. You just care so much about me and my wellbeing it's infatuating this feeling that only you can make me feel. The feeling of being safe, of being cared for, of being someone's priority, being something to someone. You have helped me escape the cage of never feeling good enough for anyone in just the few short weeks we have known each other. You always tell me how much you adore me, how much you love seeing me smile and hearing me laugh, you make me feel enough for someone. For my kids. For myself. I dived right in head first. 10 out of 10 dive, and you have caught me like you promised you would. I am wholeheartedly in love with Y/n and I want to share that love, the passion I feel towards you with the world. I just want to shout it from the fucking roof tops. I love, I am in love with you, Y/n Barton. I want everyone to hear it. I want everyone to know it. So to answer your question. Yes I do. I love you Y/n."

I have no idea how I just did that, without becoming a nervous wreck. But I did it and I can feel my nose scrunch from the smile on my face as I go over and over in my head what I am feeling. It's just indescribable. It's love.

She hasn't said anything…

My smile drops when I realise she still hasn't said anything. I bow my head, my sock covered feet becoming the most interesting thing in the room. Why hasn't she said anything?

"Wanda." Her voice is level, calm and soothing but I don't look up. "Wanda please look at me."

I feel her place her finger under my chin, lifting my head up to meet hers. What I don't expect to see are the tears in her eyes as they become glassy, a few having already escaped. I scrunch my brows as I use the pad of my thumb to clear her face of tears that have already escaped. 

"I'm sorry for freezing up. It's just, I didn't expect those words. Well not when you said them. I wanted to say it first." I bite my bottom lip in anticipation of what she is saying. "I wanted to take you back to Hela's kitchen, maybe stroll back down to the park. I wanted to go and watch and listen to that violinist again. And then I was going to tell you how I am so head over heels in love with you. It's impossible not to be. Wanda you are one of the most amazing people that I have ever met and I feel honoured to have been able to meet you, get to know you, call you mine and fall in love with you. I promise you now, that I will do everything in my power to show you just how much I love you everyday, how much I care for you and how happy and loved you make me feel. I will be there with you right by your side through everything. And do you know why?"

"Why?" My voice cracks with emotion as I feel my own tears start to fall down my face.

"Because I love you, and only you. I am in love with you."

Well shit here come the waterworks. I let my tears flow freely as I smile so wide it hurts my cheeks and I can taste my salty tears but I don't care. I don't care because she loves me as much as I love her. She is in love with me. I am in love with her.

"You worried me for a second, you went so quiet. You didn't have to say it back, but when you said nothing at all I think I might have shit my pants with how scared I was." 

"I'm sorry, truly. I just. I haven't heard those words being spoken to me in a fair while and the last time someone said them they used that to their advantage. Not that I think you ever could or would, I just need you to know why I froze." My heart breaks at her confession. I hate what her ex put her through, not that I know much but I know enough to know that relationship was abusive and toxic. 

"I know baby, I know. Just know that I will never hurt you the way she did." I cup her cheeks stroking my thumbs across them.

"I know princess."

"But I need you to listen, to hear it and to understand it." She bites her lip as her eyes scan mine and I stop all my movements so she can concentrate on my voice and only my voice. "I will never hurt you the way she did. I will never use your feelings or my love for you as an excuse to hurt you." 

Her bottom lip quivers as she wraps her arms around my body bringing me in for an emotional hug as I feel her tears drip from her face and down onto my shoulder  as she whispers thank you in my ear over and over. My arms are wrapped around her body, and I have to go up on my tiptoes to be able to run my hand through her hair and down her head to try and soothe her a little bit, my other one rubbing up and down her back. Damn her and her tall stature. 

I feel a small body wrapped around my legs, making me jump a little bit but when I look down I smile at Nathaniel who is hugging my leg resting his chin on my hip as he smiles up at me. Y/n's left arm unwraps from me and I feel another body join us snuggle into my right side, as Y/n's left arm wraps around the body and me. It must be Tommy as he is just below my height and it was easy for Y/n to wrap her arm around the both of us. Her other arm moves and I feel my other son, who is annoyingly taller than me, join our huddle. When Y/n wraps her arm around Billy she plants her hand on the top of Nathaniel's head running her fingers through his short hair. 

I want to stay in this moment forever.

(Natasha PoV)

My movements stop in the doorway of my kitchen, I didn't really expect anyone else to be awake, let alone have a huddle of 5 bodies cuddling one another in there. I look past them to see a small mess in the kitchen, pancake mix it seems, it looks like they had fun when trying to make breakfast. Obviously, they got distracted because I see no pancakes in sight. I must look like a creep just standing in the doorway watching this family have a moment.

Woah.

Family. 

I mean that is exactly what they look like from an outside perspective. They look like they have known each other forever, a loving and caring family. I know that's all Wanda has ever wanted, and even though vision gave her the twins who she loves with her whole heart he could never give her the family aspect of it. Sure he did his bit when he was home, it wasn't very much and it wasn't the best. He treated Wanda like a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe, but she could never escape it because her thoughts were always about the boys.

"I am staying with him for the boys. I can't have them growing up with parents who don't at least try."

She always used to say that to me. Always. Whenever I would bring up the idea of leaving him. Now I think about it, I don't think they were ever her words. No. They were Visions. He was never physically abusive, not that I knew of as I always would pay close attention to Wanda looking for bruises that thankfully weren't there. However, I know he was manipulative and got inside her head twisting her thoughts to become his own. I will never understand what he did to make her stay for so long, or if she really just put up with him for the children until she couldn't fight it anymore.

That day she turned up on my doorstep, the twins in the car bawling her eyes out which were red and puffy, I swore to myself I would never forgive him. I also promised myself never to let Wanda get into that sort of relationship again, not that she tried getting into a relationship. It's hard when you're a single mother of two teenage boys, there is either no time to look for someone you want to be with. Or when you find that someone and want to introduce you to their kids, they run. Now Wanda had been with a few people over the past two years, but they all ran saying they were not ready for children and they were definitely not ready for two teenage boys.

And then she met Y/n.

Something changed in her, for the better. It's like she is floating on air whenever she is with her, she smiles that amazing smile i haven't seen in so long, she never shuts up about her. Which is annoying, but shows me how much she truly cares about Y/n. The night after they first met, on one of our girls nights, I had asked Wanda what Y/n was like. 

"She doesn't care that I have children."

Now that sentence took me by surprise. It's not the first thing I thought she would say in a million years, that someone she had literally just met the night before already knew she had two teenage boys and didn't run. Y/n didn't run. The smile on her face when she told me that she didn't run was insane, her face creased with happiness. Then she mentioned she was 22 and to say I was surprised was an understatement, it took me a second to realise she wasn't joking. But after she told us more and more about Y/n over these past few weeks, I soon came to realise that it didn't matter how young or old Y/n was because Y/n makes Wanda extremely happy.

She has had this extra glow this past week and a bit, this extra confidence within herself. I've noticed it, I know the girls have noticed it. I'm not sure if Wanda is even aware of the change in herself, but we can all see it. The way Y/n is looking at her right now shows me she can see it too, her eyes are full of adoration and she is so gentle with Wanda. She is so good for Wanda, she has brought my friend's confidence back. She has brought my friend's smile back. She has brought my friend who I have missed for so long back to me. For that I can never thank her enough. I love to see Wanda so happy.

However, I still get the feeling she is hiding something from Wanda and I love Wanda to bits so if she hurts her I will kill her especially with how happy Wanda has been. It would destroy her. Whatever she is hiding she better tell Wanda soon, because the fallout could be huge. I am brought out of my staring at the family when I see Wanda plant a kiss on Y/n, well they must have told the twins then.

"I love you." I hear Wanda say between the two of them, my eyes go wide and I feel my jaw drop to the floor. 

She loves her.

Now she better not hurt her.

"I love you too Princess." Y/n speaks the words so softly I almost don't hear them, but then she looks up to me and smirks. "Hey Natasha."

"Hello." I push off the doorway, seeing Wanda hiding her very red face against Y/n's chest. "Sorry you guys. Did I step on your moment?"

"Shut it Nat." Wanda grumbles against Y/n's chest and the boys and her laugh, me joining in too. 

"So you love each other?" I raise an eyebrow at the lovebirds.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Wanda shoots towards me, no  malicious intent behind it.

"Nope." I say popping the P.

"Sorry about the mess Natasha, me and the boys were making pancakes. It sort of turned into a messy pancake fight. I will clear it up once I've actually made some." Y/n moves away from the group hug as she starts collecting the ingredients to start again.

"No problem. Also please call me Nat. Friends get to call me Nat." I see her smile with her back turned to me.

"Okay Nat. Why don't you take Wanda and the boys into the living room to watch some TV while I cook everyone some food."

"Sounds good to me, chef." I turn to the boys and Wanda ushering them out of the room, the look Wanda is giving Y/n makes me feel very single because all I see is love. Ugh.

But she loves Y/n.

Y/n loves her.

They love each other….

Holy shit they love each other.

================================

[onegirlatelier]

Film costume analysis | Daisy's red dress in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

(mild spoiler alert!)

Intro

I have a million and one things to write about, and I have to start somewhere, and I can’t believe that no one’s done a costume analysis on this specific dress. The film (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, dir. David Finch) came out in 2008. I was far too young back in 2008 to remember anything about the internet, so I’m not sure whether it’s because there had not developed a niche for film costumes on the internet yet or that this film was generally overlooked (imo), but there is really very little coverage of this dress on the internet. Besides, some links do not work anymore and some pages are archived.

For me, though, it has a permanent place in my mind because it’s a combination of period drama plus ballet plus contemplation on time plus the one and only Ms. Cate Blanchett. Dunno if one could ask for more in a film.

Red also happens to be my very, VERY favourite colour.

I haven’t made a Western (as in opposition to Chinese) dress for absolute ages, and I have never done a couture dress with a boned bodice. Hence I would love to grow some skills by attempting to replicate this red dress, probably making it a bit more haute couture than the original one as I imagine the industrial standards for a costume are slightly different from a couture gown.

(I cannot, for the life of me, find the current location of this dress via internet – so my best guess is that it’s in the storage of the film studio, if not in a private collection. If they put it on display I would totally book a ticket to the US okay.)

The film clip

The biggest source is of course the film itself. This section of the plot starts from around 1:26:00, and the dress appears in what is called ‘the gazebo scene’ several minutes later. There is not much material because its appearance lasts maybe five minutes in total, and mostly in dim lighting and mist. Still there are a few things to be noted. (Excuse the subtitles, ahem.)

First of all, the V-shaped neckline and the V-shaped low back. I love love this style. Looking closely, you can also see the placement of gatherings along the neckline and the back.

The sleeves are in one piece with the bodice, which is known as kimono sleeves (which feels a teeny bit strange because they have little to do with actual kimono sleeves). There is some underarm wrinkles, which is totally necessary as she needs to raise her arms when dancing.

The neckline is technically not off-shoulder, but it’s really barely on the shoulders and I doubt that the shoulder area had any major supporting role in the hanging of this dress. It certainly wouldn’t for me, since I have very slope-y shoulders and a bodice like that with no inner support would slip right off. The bodice has to be boned and its weight should be distributed to the waist instead of the shoulders, if I am to keep this beautiful neckline. I think the original was likely boned anyways, as suggested by this still. However, we also know that Daisy danced in this dress and it seems flexible like a tutu bodice, which means another source of reference is tutus/ballet costumes. I know the side panels of tutu bodices (when made in non-stretchy materials) are cut on bias, as shown in this picture.

The reason for this is to make the side panels fit tightly to the dancer’s torso whilst allowing some room for movement and breathing. I’m not sure how to use this piece of information, though, because as far as I can see there are no extra seams except for the CF, CB, and side seams. Perhaps I will try structuring the boned inner support on bias, as I’ve seen actual corsets being done like that. Ultimately the goal is to make a bodice that can cling to the body without shoulder hangings.

Back to the film clip. I try to choose a suitable fabric by observing how the dress moves and reflects light. (This has a lot to do with the film lighting, on which my guesses are based, and I understand that in real life and under other types of lighting the effects could be much different.) Let me start by stating that I’m choosing a silk because if I’m going to spend all this time on this dress, it had better be made of proper good materials. (The gazebo scene is available on YT should you want to see it in action.)

First thing I’ve noticed is that the dress does not reflect the light in a sharp, shiny way. It’s easy to think that the fabric has a matte finish, especially when referring to the film clip only, but the clip from blue-ray actually suggests a subtle lustre. The fabric also does not have heavy slubs so I’m ruling out dupioni.

Secondly, the fabric feels quite solid, so no chiffon/georgette/organza.

The skirt has some volume, but we do not see a petticoat (or at least not a separate lining) when Daisy raises her leg as she dances, so the fabric has to be airy and not too drapey. This is where I’m eliminating charmeuse and crepe de chine because I feel that they are too fluid and will not hold the bell shape of the skirt.

The gathers around the bust and the waist are quite soft and delicate, and when Daisy dances we see the fabric slide gently down her leg. For these reasons I’m hesitant about taffeta. I happen to own about five metres of cheap taffeta, and I don’t know whether it’s because it’s cheap and therefore low quality, but it’s very crispy and papery, and produces ‘dry’ gathers. Perhaps the quality/hand has to do with weight too (the one I own is 19 momme and feels too thin for this project). I don’t remember ever touching an expensive and heavy taffeta, so I’m not sure if paying more could remedy the plastic feel.

The above brings me to a choice between a heavier, better taffeta and raw silk (I’ve been told that ‘raw silk’ is the English translation for soie sauvage). Currently, my plan is to make a skirt with my very cheap taffeta and go from there. I will also get samples for both taffeta and raw silk, probably from multiple sources too, because there’s no point in rushing when you are already investing this much, right?

(EDIT: looking at how soft the sleeves hang in the blu-ray clip, I'm willing to consider charmeuse, but at a heavier weight than 20 momme. Duchess is also possible but I worry that 1) it's too heavy for the gathers, 2) it's really not very affordable at the moment.)

Blu-ray behind the scenes

There is a specific section in the blu-ray in which Jacqueline West, the costume designer, talks about the costumes. She specifically discusses this dress, which is actually based on an original.

This shot wonderfully shows the front closure: seven pairs of hooks and eyes with the skirt opening almost directly in the front, though it could be slightly to the right (left side of picture). The hooks and eyes are functional. A layer of fabric from the left side extending as a modesty panel of some sort down the CF. I also noticed the shiny spots on the top of the right side opening and bottom of the left side, but I'm not sure why they were there. The writing overlapping the mannequin reads: ‘Make in deep midnight blue/This is a genuine Claire McCardell dress/Jazz club'. (David Finch had wanted to change the colour until he saw Ms Blanchett in it.)

There are also two sketches.

I have not seen this second one anywhere else on the internet and I’m really pleased about finding it because it illustrates so clearly the intended effect of the bodice and the skirt.

McCardell and the front closure

The Claire McCardell bit is supplemented by an ELLE interview with West. I will quote one specific question and answer from that interview:

Did you have a favorite look for Cate Blanchett's character?

The red dress has become kind of an icon piece. It was a compilation of some different Claire McCardell designs that I loved. The long ballerina-length skirt in 1947—no one else was doing that really in America. It was strictly in Europe, in France. McCardell's favorite color was red, and I put the hooks and eyes that she used on a lot of her clothing down the front as an homage to her. Those hooks aren't made anymore.

This blog article by Isaspacey also helped so much by quoting a Claire McCardell dress at an Augusta auction. The links to the auction have expired so the pictures I’m posting here are reposts from Isaspacey’s blog. (Credits probably belong to Augusta.)

There is also another Claire McCardell dress on Ebay that has hooks and eyes down the front.

I’m going to put the pictures here just in case the link stops working (when someone buys it for $945? I mean, I would.) The pictures were presumably taken by the seller enokiworld. One of these pictures is particularly valuable, as it offers such a clear view of the hook-and-eye closure. I’m not sure about the hooks, but the eyes are sandwiched between the outer layer and an inner layer that simultaneously cover up the seam.

I also really like this dress because it has a dog leg closure for the skirt. I would like to use this type of closure for my replica as I feel it’s more elegant. Then I recalled this tutorial for a mid-19th century dog leg closure, which I first read many years ago for an actual 1850s dress lol. It looks very adaptable to my purpose.

Here is also a picture from an FIDM display a few years ago, showing the left side seam where the gathers are stitched down and not just floating. Also note that 1) again the fabric is not super reflective/shiny, 2) it's just so red I love it.

[neilwroteathing]

I wanna ramble about my TADC OC bc god damn I'm seeing too many lovely ones and I get FOMO.

Sadly I own no references of the character itself but alas, I wanna make use of this blog ahead of time and lay out ideas I've had before writing the main Google Doc of this character as the bio, since I tend to look to solidly form the OC before writing its bio as a sort of 'finalized version'.

I'll be adding pics of things described when needed since it'll be more fun in that way.

Ladies and Gents!

Say hello to my TADC OC:

Timberly, the puppeteer, puppet and ventriloquist!

I'll start off saying that I wanted to make a clown, since I love clowns, but since Pomni is the protagonist and Kaufmo exists as well- So that's off the table. Following those very rules over no clowns I decided to do the same for the general cast, aka to vary and try not to lean too much on just one aspect, so Abstract (Zooble), animals (Jax duh) Animate inanimate (Gangle, Kinger and Ragatha) had to be only minor showings in the OC itself. So I experimented a little

Something suggested by a friend is to look up 90's toys, which I did try out to gather inspiration. At some point I reached the idea of a puppet, a sort of wooden and yarn style of doll that then shifted to actual wood body, yarn joints and lastly strings to hold up.

This is where the main body of the OC would go, Timberly was the name of the puppet, bottom heavy, rough wood shapes and long arms made to imitate something I kind of wanted to have fun with...

This smug fuck, why? His arms! The idea of wide colorful cylinders for arms, connected with strands of yarn in between down to a pair of simple pointed stubs for hands at the ends made me pretty happy to imagine. Timberly's clothing choice is still undefined but would most likely have either a long dress with puffy shoulders or even suspenders! Overall to not interrupt with the colorful segmented arms using sleeves. Hair? Not sure what it'd be like YET but I am working on it, though it might not be yarn so it isn't like Ragatha's.

Timberly as a name comes from Kimberly, but with Timber.

Second part of the character came off due to the idea of the main body being a puppet, and frankly was too amusing of a concept not to include, to which I want to introduce the puppeteer, Hans!

Hans... Is clearly meant to be like Hands, because it is in fact a giant, hovering toony white glove that handles a wood X made to carry around Timberly. Hans is essentially the movement for Timberly, while she is the physical expressions and body function such as touching objects and possessing some of the core senses. Hans is pretty simple in design due to not being the expressive one- try answering the questions:

'How are you?'

'Where does it hurt?' and

'Where is the heart?'

Without using your body EXCEPT your hand. That's Hans, it can do wavy motion to respond the first one but not much else- you don't need a reference to imagine what Hans looks like.

Lastly is one of the more personally formed parts, third "member" of those that form Timberly as a whole: Gogo!

Brandishing the same name as the character, Gogos are made by Panini, cool little plastic collectibles I remember gathering when I was smoler. Yes some of them look quite weird in shape don't ask- But the point is that Gogo is meant to imitate one of these, and Gogos are tiny, like roughly 5-8 cm or so (Look up how much that's in inches lol) and generally had varying designs, from alien to robotic to animal of all sorts. Gogo is mostly a simple big lower base with small middle body and a big head that imitates the look of a simplified Talkboy, all with a robotic appearance.

Now why would Gogo have a head like this? Simple! Gogo is the voice of the group! But since Gogo is quite small (10 cm tall) and usually sits on Timberly's head and speaks for the other two!

Now that we defined who makes up the character, there's one thing I intentionally made in a way, which was having Hans, Timberly and Gogo be almost impossible to tell if they were separate entities or a single one since in their story, all of them arrived together in one go and appeared to fall in love with the Digital Circus itself in mere moments of appearing.

Sometimes they'd behave like three people, with arguments looking like Timberly making annoyed gestures, Hans shaking either of the two and Gogo being vocal and loud- While other times they all act in one way together, Gogo speaking, Timberly gesturing and Hans keeping them on the move if needed.

Who knows what these three are, if not a single mind that fell into what felt like a dreamy blessing, or three individuals shackled to live as one?

First post using this account again, fun stuff, sorry about the text wall but if you did reach this, hope you liked the concept of the character!

I'll uh... Learn how to segment posts better soon.

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 18b

ARC image by Eury Escodero | gif by @skiplo-wave

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Emory further bonds with Natasha and Clint, and Tony does his very first test flight.

Length: 3,520

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

“How are you not a dad?” Emory asks him incredulously.

“Having bark is a perfectly good reason to name that tree after a dog, Natasha. And don’t think I don’t see you dodging my question, Em.”

“The call was lovely,” Emory says, turning fully towards Natasha. “Tony seems to have decided that in the absence of any ability to tell me what’s been going on thanks to my governmental overlords, he should instead spend the time being overwhelmingly adorable. And, let me tell you--” Emory leans into the feeling in a way she hadn’t been able to, hours before. She closes her eyes and grins, remembering the over-the-top endearments that Tony had lavished on her in a clear attempt to be revolting to everyone else who had chosen to listen in. “Mission accomplished.”

“Well, Schmoopsie Pie, if I’d known it was that effective, I’d have pushed for more airtime,” Tony’s voice says from behind her.

Chapter Eighteen: Halogen

For a good half hour, she tries to listen to what Natasha’s teaching her while struggling nullify the energy she keeps accumulating. Unfortunately, the static snowfield she usually pictures isn’t dampening anything today. Instead of a stabilizing snowdrift, all she can muster are artificial plastic flakes that make a mess and muffle nothing. Soon, her fear that she can’t de-escalate starts contributing to the sheath of power already accumulated. 

“All right, two on one, just do your best,” Natasha says, immediately launching an attack with her leg. Emory tries to fall back, but Clint is there. She dodges sideways with an arm movement that protects her core from Natasha’s kick. She’d been taught how to prevent the way Barton’s trying to lock her arms to her sides, but she’s in the wrong position. Desperately, Emory tries to move fast enough to twist free.

Instead, her powers respond. The tornadic boost that spins her out of the way sweeps Clint into the wall behind them.

“Shit!” Emory yelps, watching him shake his head on his hands and knees for a second before getting up. “I’m sorry, Agent Barton!”

“It’s fine.” Clint gestures down at himself as if to challenge her to find an injury. “You set me up for that,” he says with grim amusement, leaning over to point behind Emory at Natasha. “Three seconds different and it would have been you playing pinball, Nat.”

“Not my fault you get complacent in training,” Natasha says with a smug half-smile.

Neither of them seem surprised by what just happened.

Emory still feels terrible. “I’m trying to clear my mind, but it’s not working the way it usually does, and--”

“You’re able to control it with mental exercises?” Natasha interrupts sharply. Gathering up her courage, Emory nods. It looks like the agent is interested, not upset. “Tell me exactly what you do.”

Emory explains the visualization, adding that it’s never failed this badly before.

“What’s different today?” Clint asks, when she’s done. His focused excitement drags the truth from her lips before she realizes what she’s saying.

"I feel like a refugee rescued with everything I own, and instead of getting to go home I've been forced to give it all up, piece by piece, to prove I'm worth saving. Nothing I've learned here feels like it's about me, except what you two have taught- and that's just to keep me alive and out of your hair." She scrunches her eyes shut, her fists balling at her sides. There's a sleeve of power coating her skin, and the fear that usually chases it away is magnifying it instead. "I'm… I'm lost," she gasps miserably.

“Look at me,” Natasha says. “Picture me surrounded by your static.” She stands directly in front of Emory, expression neutral, eyes locked to hers.

“I--”

Natasha angrily claps twice. “You’re in crisis. This is good practice! Focus on me, make everything else static. Do it now.” The agent schools her expression back to calm, but the shift had been sudden and shocking, enough of a touchstone for Emory to refocus. 

She breathes in and out, letting the jolt of resentment leech into her bloodstream, on its way to be filtered away like any other toxic substance. Emory tries to picture large, sound-muffling snowflakes falling around Natasha, blocking her view of Clint, of the room, of this trap she’s found herself stuck in. Just as before, the visual is not quite right-- plastic flakes with no depth. Emory’s irritation surges a double layer of power that ruffles her hair and tickles her neck, further annoying her.

“Talk it out,” Natasha instructs, her voice more gentle than before.

Emory shakes her head. “I can’t. If this is how SHIELD treats me when I’ve been compliant, then…” She lets her voice trail off, unwilling to give voice to her fear. “I can’t find that scientist myself.”

Natasha nods thoughtfully, digging into a pocket in her fighting suit. Looking over at Barton, she says, “Lock the door?”

A surge of horrified fear coats Emory in energy so thick she feels like she’s suffocating.

“Em!” Clint calls out on the way to the door. When she looks over, he locks eyes with her, sincerity written across his forehead creases. “I won’t let you fall. Remember?”

Emory hasn’t known him long, but Clint Barton strikes her as one of the most genuine people she’s ever met. Despite everything, she trusts him. His words loosen the band of fear constricting her lungs, allowing her to suck in a huge relieved breath. As she lets it out, Natasha throws two objects at the ceiling corners, one from each hand. They spark a blue-white arc of electricity that engulfs identical round, black fixtures. Emory stares at them, confused, until Clint jogs over and explains, pointing up to the nearest one.

“Surveillance. Those last what? Fifteen, twenty minutes, Nat?”

“Twenty-five. Old system,” Natasha says. “It’ll take a while to notice, even longer to figure out what to do about it.” She crosses her arms and offers a crooked grin, her eyes impish. “I think Fury took today off.”

“Feel safe yet?” Clint asks, nudging her shoulder.

Inside her head, Tony’s voice whispers something equal to the look of mischief in Natasha’s eyes. Emory goes for it.

“This is about how much you two are fans of Rory Fall and were planning to torture me into revealing her inner secrets, right? I mean, if anyone asks?” she says, using her journalist wrangling voice.

“Like how she’s really blonde and can’t sing? Yep. Solid plan.” Clint clears his throat as if he expects blow-back. “I read that somewhere.” At Natasha’s raised eyebrows, he adds, “What? Stake-outs are boring.”

Telling them how she feels goes better than Emory had expected. Throughout, she stares at her own feet to avoid jumping to conclusions based on the agents’ faces, though. There’s something inherently cathartic in explaining the bizarre similarity between being held in a cave in Afghanistan and in a seemingly hostile government building in the US. After her final declaration (‘No one should have to feel like this.’), she keeps her eyes downcast, waiting.

“Well shit, I wouldn’t trust me either,” Clint finally says. “Though I gotta say, if this is a front? If you were brainwashed into being a terrorist infiltrator after three months of indoctrination, you’ve got the character down pat. Impressive stuff.”

On hearing this, Emory risks peeking at Natasha, who is frowning.

“I’m not sure I like how easily I can follow Fury’s line of thinking about this,” Natasha says darkly. She looks at Emory and gestures at the ceiling. “Your issue is not going to be as simple to derail. Probably not until after--”

“--the mission. Yeah, I figured.” Emory’s stored-up energy flares up around her head and shoulders at this disappointing reminder. The motion twists her hair up, soothing the flush of embarrassment from interrupting Natasha. It’s the second time she’d forgotten the energy she’d accumulated, a worrying trend. Add it to the pile.

“So we shelve it. Crush the mission, deal with this after, once none of us can do without you,” Clint says, grinning.

All of Emory’s power evaporates instantly. Her knees buckle, and she leans over to steady them, dipping her head down. “Well, that did it. Thanks, I guess,” she manages. “It didn’t occur to me-- I thought I’d get to--” Her head swimming, Emory slumps onto the floor on her knees, sitting back on her heels and hugging her arms to her chest.

Clint is apologetic. “I don’t know what I’m talking about, okay? I don’t speak for SHIELD--”

“It’s probably naive to think they’ll cut ties, and we did need her to drop all that power she had stored up,” Natasha breaks in. “Emory. Look at me.”

Her voice is kind, and Emory’s file was right. She is obedient. She crushes down her despair and looks up.

Natasha crouches down to make eye contact. “You can only change what’s changeable. Have you ever seen those ball, rope, and ring puzzles? You have to get the ball from one side of the rope to the other, but it doesn’t fit through any of the rings. You solve the puzzle by giving up on trying to fit the ball where it can’t go and manipulate the rope instead.” Natasha smiles. The expression lights up her face. Emory can’t look away. “The ball moves last in the sequence. Up until that point, it looks impossible. Change what’s changeable, step by step. Maybe by the time the ball swaps sides, it’s too late to stop it.”

“Please tell me this isn’t a defection metaphor?” Clint jokes.

Natasha straightens. “Which would you rather have, a captive teammate building hidden resentment until she blows up the building, or a full teammate you can count on, with actual superpowers? Ones she can control?”

“So we’re the ring?”

“Go unlock the door, Barton,” Natasha groans. She straightens and holds out her hand to help Emory up, but she doesn’t let go right away, squeezing to emphasize what she says next. “A lot of people join SHIELD on purpose. They want power, adventure, control. You’ve probably already seen that, from what I hear.”

Natasha’s trying to distract her, and it’s working. Emory huffs out an exasperated laugh, thinking about Peter. “Yes.”

“Other people join it for a family. To right wrongs. To make good. Neither side of the spectrum is ideal.”

“Join for Fury’s wife’s birthday cookies, with a side of extrajudicial murder,” Clint whispers, leaning over to put his head near both of theirs.

“You are not helping,” Natasha hisses.

“She’s mad because she didn’t earn a cookie last year.”

Clint dances away, and Emory slips free while Natasha is distracted. She sees that the ceiling glow is dimming on the nearest camera and jogs over to catch the metal balls as they drop free. There’s no time to get across to the other, so on a whim, she tries to force enough power to gust them up till she gets there, using the encouragement from the two veteran agents as fuel.

It works. The powerful burst of air current makes it in time to stop their fall with no excess for her to soothe away. She’s able to snag them out of midair, feeling the unnatural uplift she’d created disperse harmlessly. It’s a breakthrough. One that might even be enough to balance out the knowledge that these two people expect her to stay at SHIELD beyond the mission she’s been manipulated to take part in.

But only because the sooner she can control her abilities, the sooner she can use them to make sure that doesn’t happen.

“Nice,” Clint says.

Grinning but instinctively repressing her joy to just below the place that might lift it to ‘power generation’ level, Emory walks over to Natasha and offers her the handful of spy gadgets.

“Keep them,” is the surprising answer. “Might come in handy.”

Emory nods, biting her lip. She might be able to use them for her call with Tony. Before she can ask who would get in trouble if she uses the objects on SHIELD tech the second time in a week, there’s a knock at the door, and a voice calls out to ask if everything is all right. Natasha makes a face and heads for the door, immediately launching into a highly technical description of the objects they were ‘testing.’ Clint walks over to Emory.

In a low voice, he tells her, “Fury’s got a lot on his plate at the moment. I doubt either of us would be able to schedule a meeting objecting to his…” He clears his throat. “Recruitment methods, for a couple of weeks.”

“Bummer,” Emory says, heartened. She’s pretty sure he’s telling her that they don’t intend to ‘tell on her’ for her concerns, but also implying that the concerns are valid.

“Yeah,” Clint continues. “Fun to picture his face when I explain about the shifting balls. Ahh well.” He rocks back on his heels, looking directly up at the nearest camera. “If it helps your mood at all, if what I’ve heard about Stark’s obsession with you is true, we probably need you more than you need us.” With that, Clint chuckles and looks down at her, winking. “Competence is one of many ways to ride under the radar here, but Natasha’s sure a pro at it.”

“That’s definitely true,” Emory says, a little stunned by what he’s telling her. She kind of wishes she had a hidden audio recorder to listen back over everything both agents have said to her this afternoon, because it seems like all of it is important. Most of all the sly suggestion by Clint that maybe SHIELD isn’t the one who holds all of the leverage.

Emory slips her hand down into her pocket around the static spheres Natasha had given her, taking courage from them as she slips out of the sparring room to continue her day.

Tony finishes his first full suit prototype thirty hours before his call with Emory. The Disrobe-Bot works perfectly, which wasn’t a given, though the real test will be getting back out (something he wants to perfect before he shows up to perform Emory Autumn’s third kidnapping in four months’ time). The last piece is his faceplate, and Tony calls out to JARVIS as he puts it on. He’s looking forward to hearing the swap as his AI moves from the basement speakers to the built-in earpieces in his helmet.

“JARVIS, you there?”

“At your service, Sir.”

The AI’s voice sounds just right in Tony’s ears. Excellent. “Engage Heads-up Display, import all relevant preferences from home interface.” 

The HUD is even better than he’d hoped. The visuals are just right, cycling through various data points at just the right speed for him to get a heightened feel for his surroundings. Tony turns his head, and the AI highlights DUM-E’s outline, naming the robot with a small but readable label before shifting to identify the coffeemaker on the shelf many feet behind it.

He can’t wait to see what this will look like out in the world. “All right, what do you say?” Tony asks, hoping there isn’t some last-minute roadblock to the thing he wants to do.

“I have indeed been uploaded, sir. We are online and ready.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Tony knows what he should be doing. He should test the Disrobe-Bot right away, because he doesn’t want to be stuck in the suit for more time than it takes for his bladder to fill. He definitely shouldn’t go out where someone could catch him on surveillance… but, what if he could get high enough before that happened? “Do a check on control surfaces,” he says, walking over to the door that separates the lab from the garage. The display shows the integrity of each tire, with a label for the vehicle.

The check doesn���t take long, as Tony has left space for quite a few modifications that aren’t necessary for the rescue mission. He’s left out anything offensive except for the repulsors and some targeting mechanics, mostly because he wants to stick it to Nick Fucking Fury if the man tries to make anything up about the kind of threat Tony poses during the rescue.

“Tests complete. Preparing to power down and begin diagnostics, which should be ready and waiting for you when you wake up.”

“Uh, change of plan,” Tony says, trying to sound like he’s only just made up his mind. “Link up with ATC, do a weather check, and start listening in on ground control.”

“Sir, there are terabytes of calculations needed before--”

“JARVIS,” Tony chastises, grinning as he walks through the garage to hit the button for the sliding door. “Sometimes you’ve gotta run before you can walk.”

If he had Emory’s abilities, Tony would be charged up with enough power to fly without the repulsors.

“Hey, make sure you get a recording of this,” he tells JARVIS, stepping out into the warm June night.

“Certainly, sir. Wouldn’t want to miss the chance to identify any design flaws or operator errors that might occur.”

“Settle down,” Tony says.

The suit handles like a dream. It’s worth every minute he may have to spend locked into it, should his robotic Yinsen not do its job properly. Tony flies out over the water, pushing his speed for five solid minutes before looping around to avoid the shipping lanes. Thinking about Yinsen is actually what makes him pull back, stops him from climbing too far skyward, too far ocean-ward.

Turns out the lump in his throat isn’t affected by gravity or acceleration.

If it weren’t for Yinsen, he wouldn’t be here at all, and Tony is pretty sure that if it weren’t for his plans to rescue Emory, she’d be stuck with permanent shrapnel threatening her heart, too.

Tony smirks. Well, he is often described as magnetic.

On the day Tony’s going to call, Emory wakes up at 5 AM and spends the next hour picturing gently drifting snow. She can basically tell him nothing. Her personal struggles are off-limits to SHIELD, who will definitely be eavesdropping, and her mission is off-limits to Tony, who would definitely be interested in ‘helping.’ Since that day in the sparring room, Natasha’s training has shifted to control, with Clint coming along more often than not.

It’s been… fun. More than that, it’s helped her feel competent to control herself enough not to destroy her room this time.

Pepper makes Tony go to sleep at nine PM the night before the call. The joke’s on her, because Tony had planned to stay up all night and go to sleep right after (ha. HA HA), so he’d programmed JARVIS to make announcements leading up to the call at ten, five, and single minute intervals starting at a half hour prior. Since he’s calling into SHIELD with his cell phone, he can be anywhere in the house, so Tony sneaks into one of the many hidden spaces with a blanket and pillow and waits for all hell to break loose. By call time, he’ll be wide awake, which is good, because he can’t tell Emory anything he doesn’t want SHIELD to know, and that includes a good number of things they probably don’t want to know.

It’s… tempting to say most of them anyway in a blatant attempt to start a vomit chain in the surveillance room. It’s a real shame Coulson won’t be there. 

“So how did “The Call” go?” Clint asks ten hours later as they get out of the car and cross the field toward Fido, the mostly-destroyed tree they use for target practice.

“Audible air quotes are so early two-thousands,” Emory complains.

Natasha doesn’t even turn around as she says, “Co-signed.”

“Uh uh. You don’t get a vote, we decided this when you voted against ‘Fido,’” Clint says, actually wagging his finger back and forth.

“How are you not a dad?” Emory asks him incredulously.

“Having bark is a perfectly good reason to name it after a dog, Natasha. And don’t think I don’t see you dodging my question, Em.”

“The call was lovely,” Emory says, turning fully towards Natasha. “Tony seems to have decided that in the absence of any ability to tell me what’s been going on thanks to my governmental overlords, he should instead spend the time being overwhelmingly adorable. And, let me tell you--” Emory leans into the feeling in a way she hadn’t been able to, hours before. She closes her eyes and grins, remembering the over-the-top endearments that Tony had lavished on her in a clear attempt to be revolting to everyone else who had chosen to listen in. “Mission accomplished.”

“Well, Schmoopsie Pie, if I’d known it was that effective, I’d have pushed for more airtime,” Tony’s voice says from behind her.

Emory opens her eyes to see that both Clint and Natasha are standing in battle poses with clear surprise on their faces.

“Tony?” she asks, afraid to turn around and see that someone’s tricked her with a recording.

“It’s really me, Em,” he says, and the repressed excitement she can hear in his voice is what convinces her to turn around. Now she understands why her teammates reacted the way they did. He’s wearing a suit of shining armor.

“No white horse? Man, what a disappointment,” she says, all thoughts of soothing static and energy dissipation gone with the wind that’s whipping up around her.

“See, that, that right there? Is why there’s no horse,” Tony sasses back, grinning. 

Emory’s already running toward him, so wreathed with power and joy already that she lifts into the air for the last few feet. To her utter delight, Tony drops one palm down at his sides and gestures, lifting up just enough to catch her with the other arm. The uneven burst of power from his brand new suit starts them turning, and her accumulated energy continues it, spinning them around for a kiss every bit as scorching as the sun-warmed metal of his suit. 

Next chapter, Tony negotiates time away from SHIELD for Emory and gets to introduce her to Pepper and Happy.

[clover-46]

I'm just giving out crumbs that's all. This praise gonna have me blushing and shit sheeeesh

But I bring you Bartender Gavin in this time of hunger.

Gavin has the social skills to be a good bartender and the face to pull in lots of tips each night (no pun intended. Or maybe it is idk) he has people gathering at the counter to watch the up and down motions when he's mixing drinks. The apron he wears around his waist cinches just right that who needs corsets in this day and age. (He would totally rock that trend of "you bring the corsets I'll bring the cinches, no one wants a waist over... Nine inches")

People are sliding him napkins with their numbers every night. Some people even hand him their hotel room cards. Sometimes he takes them up on the offer and rails them into the mattress so hard that noise complaints are piling in. But most of the time he simply gives them a charming smile to lessen the awkward pain of rejection.

If he is wearing sleeves, you bet those are rolled up. Most of the time he's just wearing a sleeveless shirt since it can get a bit warm. Whenever hes mixing, pouring, shoveling ice his arms are constantly flexing with every movement. In the dim lighting of the bar it's the most mesmerizing shit to watch.

Freelancer, like every college kid, goes out to drink with their friends. Lasko recommended the place (he's been here a few times and taken a few rounds with a certain bartender if you catch my drift). They decided they want to get Damien drunk and see if they can drink Huxley under the table. Most of their thoughts rush out their head at the sight of Gavin, leaning on the counter as he flirts with another customer. They watch, transfixed, as he pulls the cherry from their drink and puts it in his own mouth. And maybe their soul just left their body.

"Aren't you the little voyeur." A smooth voice purrs in their ear. It takes him grabbing their DAMN sweater collar so they don't fall backwards onto their ass. They aren't breathing with his hand so close to their neck. Gavin notices, of course, and lifts a finger to trace their jugular before letting go of them. "Can I get you a drink, voyeur?"

They can't remember the drink names they had been thinking of ordering so they just ask "can I get some cock...tails?" And they don't know why they paused in the middle of the order (yes they do. Gavin's gaze is VERY distracting) and he's laughing before asking them which kind.

It takes several moments before they bring the drinks back. Damien is wondering what took so long and Huxley wonders if they're okay. Lasko is just sending them a sympathetic look. He's been in their shoes multiple times. It's an attention you dread and enjoy at the same time.

After they finish off their drinks and Freelancer gets the courage to return, Gavin is already waiting for them, playing with a cherry stem. He asks what they would like and they just ask for what he would recommend. He works here after all, so he would know what's good. As if this is a restaurant.

"Oh there's plenty I would love to give you, my little voyeur. But how about sex on the beach with a blowjob to accompany it?"

They're just staring at him and he grins before explaining that both are drinks and what they contain. Freelancer just gives a shaky nod and Gavin starts making the drinks. After he's done he hands the drinks to them and leans in closer.

"Although if you're interested, the offer is open. I can do lots with my tongue" before pressing the tied cherry stem into their hand and stepping away to the next customer.

- 🙊

speaking of gavin did you know he’s getting a sleep aid soon im vibrating in my bed thinking about also DEAR GOD THIS WAS A FUN ONE TO READ

classic gavin

freelancer is always tripping or something in these (id be too shit).

OFC THE STEM IS TIED YES IM INTERESTED ARE YOU KIDDING???

@messenger-of-stupidity

[teddybeartoji]

彡 STRANGERS, WHO KNOW EACH OTHER

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff!!!, non-curse au, idk what this timeline is but both reader and satoru are adults and gumi is tiny + reader is his kindergarten teacher wc: 3k

you love you job. genuinely. you love taking care of the kids, teaching them, caring for them. and that of course applies for megumi, too. he's a pretty quiet kid, very straightforward and doesn't seem too affected by his guardian being away on a work trip when you ask him about it. you've never met the guy but it always makes you snicker whenever megumi's nose scrunches when he's brought up. or the little pout that tugs on his lips - the grumpiest and the fakest one to ever be conjured in the history of the world. you know it's fake; you've seen the care and devotion the little boy puts into the cards and the art he makes, always promising to show them to his keeper in a hushed voice.

but then one day... he's a quieter than usual, stares at you a little more than usual (he's so sure you don't see him)(or the way he's fiddling with the hem of his shirt). it's playtime and you're comfortably sitting in a bean bag, laughing with some other kids, eyeing the little sea urchin from the corner of your eye. after giving the other kids an impossible mission to complete outside, you usher the boy closer.

"gumi, come here."

and he does the cutest little eye roll known to mankind but nevertheless makes his way over to you. not pressuring him, you let him stand while you ask about the new comic book that came out (you heard him mention it once or twice) and oh, how his eyes widen. you surpress a giggle at the boy, and when you see his eyes flick between you and the bean bag you're sitting on, you finally motion for him to take a seat next to you. and he does.

he still feels a little unsure; like he wants to keep the information threathing to spill inside, despite the want to tell you all about it. seeing this, you decide to start talking about your own little hobby, doing big gestures as to try and crack a smile (it works)(he tries to hide it but you know better). and in the end he does relax and subconciously leans toward you when he starts introducing the comic.

digging out your phone, you let him show you to characters, the powers they have and how cool they all are. the smile on your face is making your cheeks hurt; glad that the boy feels secure and safe around you to tell you all this. some other kids bump in a few times, showing you the worms they dug up or beg for a napkin to wipe their face after they sneezed so hard that snot flew out. megumi's little scrunched up face only made you laugh more.

after a while you can feel him melt into you, his talk almost slurring, his eyes growing heavy. deciding to put away the phone, you move in your spot but a pair of hands clutch onto your arm. "'m not going anywhere." you assure him with a gentle smile as your hand finds its way into his hair, pushing through the unruly strands. he doesn't look at you, hiding his face into your shoulder.

"if i tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anyone?"

it's a ghost of a whisper, buried into the sleeve of your shirt. vulnerable.

"never. i would never."

it takes him another second to gather up the last pieces of confidence. the last pieces of strenght to open up his little tiny heart.

"i-i miss him." his little hands stay clutching onto your sleeve, not enough to stretch the material but just enough to let you know how hard this is for him. how he's taking the big step, how he's inviting you in with a shaky voice.

the hand in his dark hair never stops its movements, staying combing through it, feeling him nuzzle deeper into you. "oh, sweetheart. i'm sure you do." you hum quietly. "he's gonna be back really soon though. i promise."

you feel him nod against you. when another kid emerges from the outside, you quietly ask for her to whisper and swallow another giggle when she starts dramatically tiptoeing closer to you, ready to tie a newly made bracelet over your wrist. it's beautiful.

you stay like that for almost two hours - sitting in the bean bag with your arm locked securely in megumi's hold as he's letting out small little snores. you don't mind. you don't mind at all.

most of the kids have already left, their parents having come after them. they always greet you with a smile and thank you for keeping their kids happy and safe and it always warms your heart. there's nothing else you'd love more than this. and how the kids say bye... some of them hug you, some of them land a fat smooch on your cheek, one of them always shakes your hand (very firmly)(a lot of people could learn a thing from him). and all of them always wave with the brightest smiles on their faces.

you're eyeing the warm late afternoon sun from your spot on the bean bag when you hear the door open and close, a pair of loud footsteps approaching. megumi's guardian, surely.

tearing your eyes from the sun, you turn to meet the man and oh... his mouth is ajar as if he was about to yell out for megumi in the most dramatic way possible (he was). his crystal blue eyes shine in the very same light you were just basking in, taking in the sight before him. his lips close and reform into the warmest smile before he's whispers a small hi.

"hi." you answer with a smile of your own. nobody told you that he was gonna like that. sure, you've seen megumi's drawings but no offense to the boy - they do not do him justice. this has to be to most handsome guy you've ever seen. and he's your age, too. "you're here for megumi, right?"

he nods, leaning on the doorframe. "satoru."

after you introduce yourself, he repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue - and you're now stuck with the memory of one of the older faculty members saying something about how it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents and whatnot. and whatnot.

he makes his way over - keeping his eyes on his beloved boy, sleeping oh, so comfortably in your arms. the way his chest is rising and falling steadyly, his fingers digging into your shirt. his heart swells.

kneeling in front of you, he smiles at the boy before turning his focus to his keeper. the golden sunlight is making your eyes shine and when you give him a shy little smile, he knows megumi is in safe hands.

"you're new?" he whispers.

"mhmm. and you don't actually have to whisper." satoru's eyes flick to megumi and you understand his question without him asking it. "oh, he's out. like a light. we've been sitting here for what?" you look at the clock before continuing. "two hours?"

satoru's smile widens at that. "he's kept you locked up for two hours?"

raising your hand from megumi's hair, you cover your mouth, hiding a grin. "he's cute, no harm done."

satoru hums. "he is. pretty sure you're the first teacher to see him like this."

"yeah." lowering your hand back down, you brush a few strands from his eyes, making his nose scrunch up and making the two of you swoon over the pouty kid. "i'm very honored."

satoru's eyes flick back to you. there's a certain softness in them, despite the deep dark purple peeking out from underneath the skin under them. you don't know what kind of a job he has but you know it sometimes requires him to be away for a while. it must be hard for him too; hard to leave his boy in some stranger's hands. but satoru is already convinced that you're no stranger.

"i'm glad he has you."

you feel a tint of blush making its way over your cheeks because of the sincerity in his tone. he really means it.

"but seriously, though? you've been sitting in the same spot for two hours? you're telling me your feet aren't dead?" he deadpans with a smirk.

lowering your head, you confess: "i have to go to the bathroom so badly."

he almost doubles over, holding a palm over his mouth, hiding the laughter ready to burst out. you try to glare at him but it's useless - you're holding your laughter with him a second after.

your body shakes with the giddyness, making megumi stir and you still. caressing his cheek, you try to make sure he ignores the two giggling adults next to him and stays asleep.

"and yes, my arm is dead but c'mon, how was i supposed to say no to this?" as if on cue, megumi lets out a content breath, his lips molding into his usual little pout, which in return makes the two of you look at him fondly. again.

"no, don't worry. i understand - he's a real charmer." he whispered. "what got him in this mood, anyway? nothing happened, right?" his eyes widen as the words leave his mouth, concern painting his face in a second.

trying to soothe his worry, you immediately shake your head. "no, no. he's okay. nothing happened." satoru exhales deeply, hand covering his heart. you don't think he even knows how worried he looked just now.

"but?" his voice breaks the small silence. "i feel like there's a 'but' here."

giving him a smile, you look the sleeping boy locked onto your arm. "i promised i wouldn't tell, though..."

"wha-?" the grown man's lip pull into a pout and you realize that the boy really does take after him. "but i need to know..."

deciding to make sure that megumi is still in fact, sleeping, you check his breathing - steady as ever, so you beckon the man a little closer.

"he missed you that's all."

it's so quiet. not even a whisper but satoru hears the words loud and clear. his eyes fall to his boy once more, something so tender in them - making your own heart beat a little louder. "but don't tell him i told you. i promised i wouldn't."

"never. i'd never take this from you." he rests his one hand beside your thigh on the bean bag, while the other goes to smooth over his cheek. the poor boy would die of embarrassment if he were to witness all this affection bestowed upon him. "thank you for telling me."

your gazes meet again, the love in them mixing together into a warm goo, filling the room and connecting the three of you forever.

"of course."

there's a comfortable silence between you and the man. a man you met mere minutes ago but when he bends over to pick up the bracelet made out of red string and continues to tie it back on your wrist without a word, you're certain you know him. or maybe knew him in another life; whatever the case, you were meant to meet again.

you thank him but he casually brushes it off as if it wasn't a big deal, as if he did it on instict, his fingers already itching to do things for you.

"is your bladder about to explode, by the way?" teasing. his tone is teasing and you can't help but reward him with another smile. his favourite pay.

"yes- yes, it fucking is." it takes you a second to realize what just slipped from between your lips. eyes growing twice their size as you stare back at satoru, who's, of course, already silently laughing, the corners of his lips reaching his ears. "you heard nothing."

"this is who's been taking care of the kids? wow, does the faculty know of the foul mouth you're sporting?"

"hey!" you whisper shout at him and before you can even register your own movements, your free hand lands a soft punch against his strong chest. it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents. this time real heat paints your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

"sorry- i'm sorry." the only thing you can do is to mutter a quick apology - you're embarrassing yourself and you can't even run from it, the sleeping boy keeping you in your place and you're honestly ready to spiral because you just kind of hit (punched, even) him - this is definitely you crossing a line. and what if he really gets mad now and actually tells the faculty--

another wave of laughter breaks you from your thoughts. and then his own hand makes contact - landing firmly on your thigh; not to far up to make it like that but it's there to reassure that he's not a snitch of any kind and that's he's truly happy to have you as megumi's teacher. nothing better than having a real person looking after your boy.

but it is satoru gojo - it wouldn't be him if he didn't tease you properly at least once. "you're so cute like this. curses and hits being thrown here and there, whew! a great rolemodel for the kids, for sure."

you're burning up, almost afraid that you'll wake gumi with the heat emitting from your body. satisfied with the result, satoru gives your thigh a squeeze. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. no harm done, right?"

he's gazing at you, borderline burning his eyes into yours with a sly smirk and now you also understand why megumi keeps calling his guardian very annoying every chance he gets.

"yeah." you quirp. "anyway, my ass is getting really sore now, so i think it's best to-" in attempt to escape the stealth attack on your heart, you try to change the topic, even when the weight of satoru's eyes stays on you for a second longer.

you shift your gaze to megumi, raising your hand to his face, gently tracing down his nose and booping it. you brush more of his hair from his face, trying to pull him from his dreamland as softly as you can. "megumi, look, who's here...."

his lips press into another pout as you land a second boop on his nose, finally making him stir. his eyes open ever so slowly, gazing up at you as he raises his fist to rub out the sleep.

"hey, gumi."

satoru's voice stills the boy. his body doesn't move, his eyes alone turning from you to the source of the voice. and the second his green eyes meet the blue ones - he's burying his face into the crook of satoru's neck. you observe their little reunion; megumi's hands are so tight around his neck, most certainly choking the man but he doesn't mind. he doesn't mind at all. satoru's arms wrap around the boy, holding him safe and sound right to his chest, to his heartbeat.

"missed me?"

megumi grumbles something into him, something unintelligible but most definitely something that resembles a kid's insult. satoru's mischievous eyes meet yours and you bite your lip, trying to look as stern as possible when the both of you know that you're just holding back another beautiful smile.

"let's go home, yeah?"

megumi nods as satoru stands with the boy in his arms. when you start pushing yourself up, he lends you a hand - his warm fingers easily engulfing yours in a quick motion. the touch lingers, skin on skin longer than needed. neither of you say comment on it - the butterflies in your stomach would gladly do all of the talking for you. you walk them to the door, staring at the sleepy little megumi, who's glancing at you over satoru's shoulder every two seconds.

you hand satoru megumi's pack and then gently place his jacket over his shoulders before giving one final rub on his back. "be good, yeah?"

he hums back, green eyes finding safe haven in yours. another smile is threathing to show when you wink at him, so he buries himself back into satoru's neck, making the man laugh loudly. this is the first time you hear it for real. it ripples through his whole body, his chest - shaking megumi as it does, it bounces off the walls of the room and finds its way to you and your ears. it's irresistible - you can't not respond with the same when he does it, the current just pulling you along. and it'll keep you for a long time.

"it was nice to meet you. finally."

"oh, you've been waiting for this?"

...

yeah, you walked right into that one, you admit your unfortune, but luckily megumi is there to save you by giving him a hard nudge on the back.

"okay, okay, little guy.... can't even hit on his teachers in peace..." he sighs, earning a way stronger hit and a way darker blush on your cheeks. "it was really nice meeting you too. finally."

you give him a small nod, fingers playing with the bracelet. you watch him carry the boy toward the door, ready to go home and calm your heart.

"wait-" satoru turns just as he steps outside into the sunlight. his eyes shine now even more than they did inside, almost blinding you. "how come you're not running to the bathroom? i thought you were dying."

"well, i was trying to be polite and wait until you leave, so you know..." lowering your voice, you tell him: "fuck off already." flashing him one final smile, the one he's gonna think about for the rest of the night (for the rest of many many nights), you motion for him to move along.

a quick little bye is all he gets before you close the door after him, leaving him standing in from of the house with a stupid smitten grin on his face. if it weren't for megumi, he'd probably stay standing there. "they said fuck." the boy whispers.

"fuck yeah." he laughs before he ruffles megumi's hair, finally making their way over to his car. "by the way, you're an awful wingman, buddy..."

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

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an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

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