#link takes you to the newest chapter

[indigoire]

I love Tarnished Gold so much. Shen Yuan as Gongyi Xiao just memeing on Luo Binghe in the dreamscape, like the internet troll that he is 😂

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨

IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3

Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao

Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...

Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v

Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.

But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.

He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.

You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.

You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.

"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.

"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.

One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.

“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.

“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.

“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.

“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.

Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.

“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.

“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”

Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”

Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.

"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.

"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."

"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.

"Good boy."

You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.

The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.

"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.

"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.

You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.

Or did you?

While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?

"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"

"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"

You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.

You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.

You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."

Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."

Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.

The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.

Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.

“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.

“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.

He was beautiful.

He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.

"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.

"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.

"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"

You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.

"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"

Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.

"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."

"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."

~~~~

Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘

Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fic idea: Love Among Fans

Damian Wayne would be the first to admit he had difficulty connecting to others his age. The only thing he knew well was the unforgiving bloodlust of battle and while that helped him fight as Robin it didn't mean it made a well liked Robin.

Civilians flinched away from him, and Police officers stood weary around him. He cares not for the crooks' opinion of him, but he knew it is low.

Worse, other teenage heroes didn't like him around. The Teen Titans had rejected his membership after the three months trial run. Young Justice made excuses after the first two. Even the Outlaws said he was too much to be around, and Todd ran that one.

Of course, his brothers did their best to let him down gently but they could not force the rest of their teams to accept him.

That's why Jon meant so much to him. His best friend had been displeased initially with Damian's behavior, but he had been willing to still get to know him.

Jon had the patience of a Saint. He discovered what worked for Damian and how to help him breach the gaps between them. Damian knew little of what he had missed as a kid, but Jon never made him feel less for it. He carefully explained, opening his world to wondrous new things and Damian tried them all because Jon asked him to.

There was very little he wouldn't do for Jon.

"Have you ever read fanfiction?'" Jon asked one afternoon in the Kryptonian's room.

"No." He grunts, knowing the other wouldn't take offense to the short reply.

Jon smiles, pushing the tablet he had been scrolling on. "You should! This is my current favorite. It's about the show Space Ninjas, you like."

Damian appreciated the show's art and animation, so he took the tablet and clicked on the first chapter. Jon pulled out his phone, and got comfortable on his bed as Damian read.

And read and read and read.

Three days later, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, unsure how to deal with real life until the author posted another chapter. He been texting Jon about the story and hosting over amazing character interpretation, theories on what the upcoming twist would be and just about how amazing this piece of art is.

Jon sent back multiple reaction gifs and links to the author's blog, where fans had posted art of the fic. Damian scrolled through them, amazed by how well every piece was, and his eyes caught the drawing Tabet Drake given him a year ago that he had ignored for his paints.

After a moment of thinking, he picked it up, hooked up his computer, and tried to draw the one scene that made the whole fic his newest obsession.

It took three days before he was satisfied with the results. He showed Jon who gushed over it for hours. He convinced him to open a blog to post it and when Damian couldn't bring himself to, Jon tagged the writer in it.

The writer sent him a heartfelt message equally moved by his drawings as Damian was by his writing.

It was the start of his second friendship.

Over time Damian drew more and more. His fanart blog grew in followers as his skills sharpened with practice. He made more pieces of other fanfiction he read, but he always fell back to making unique fan art for GlaxeyAstronaut.

He and GlaxeyAstronaut chatted for years. He didn't know his real name- he could find it easily enough with the Batcomputer but felt it would ruin things if he did- but he knew about him. His online friend was the same age as, Damian, who identified as male, had an older sister and two scientist parents, lived Minnesota and dreamed of being a astronaut.

Damian likewise told him things about himself, mindful never of revealing anything that could pinpoint him a Wayne. And that's how their relationship was for two years.

The writer and his artist.

At one point, Jon had pointed out that Damian messaged GlaxeyAstronaut daily and talked about him just as much. He pointed out how Damian's heart beat raised whenever he saw that silly icon on his notification. He pointed out how flustered he became when he read GlaxeyAstronaut's messages.

But Damian ignored him beacuse surely he was only excited to have two whole friends now.

When they turned fourteen, things changed. GlaxeyAstronaut stopped replying to his message for a week, nearly causing Damian to go find him as Robin until his friend returned to the chat room with a short "I had an accident in my parent's lab. Electric accident. It was bad. It is bad. I may not be able to get on here as much"

His friend became somewhat distant after that, replying three or four days after. Damian figured it was because he was recovering from his accident. Still he tried to be there for him and one day, almost a year after GlaxeyAstronaut's accident he received the message.

"I can't be an Astronaut. My heart will always be too slow to apply"

Damian stared at the words feeling ice cold. Being an Astronaut had always been his friend's dream since he was five, and he could point at the glowing dots to his parents on a camping trip. The fact a medical condition acquired from a lab accident ruined it just left Damain feeling cheated.

He had no idea what GlaxeyAstronaut must feel but he guess far worst.

He had sent a message asking GlaxeyAstronaut if he wanted to call him and talk about it without much thought . They had never done a voice call before, never wanting to breach that uncharted area of online and real life friendship.

But GlaxeyAstronaut agreed, and hesitantly, Damian sent him a link to a chat room with a call option.

The call connected, and the two spoke about the writer's condition how the electricity had run amok in his body, slowing his heart and killing him for a few seconds until his friends were able to bring him back using CPR.

When that became too heavy, they switched to their favorite shows, then brainstormed ideas for collaboration and everything else under the sun.

Damian felt like no time had passed when Father came to warn him to get ready to head out soon, and GlaxeyAstronaut told him he should get started on his homework anyway.

"My name is Danny, by the way," the voice from his speaker said softly. "You don't have to tell me your name. I just....thank you for listening. My best friends and sister hear me but they don't listen to what I saw about.....the accident. It means a lot to me."

"You are most welcome" He pauses for a few seconds before he tacks on "My name is Damian. It is a honor to meet you Danny"

He heard the other boy laugh before the call disconnected any Damian was left staring at his ceiling like he did three years ago.

Back then, Damian's life had changed upon discovering fanfiction and fandoms. Today his life changed upon the startling discovery that Jon had been trying to tell him since he was twelve.

He had a crush on Danny.

How would ge deal with this?

[nudnickel]

The Furby Trainer's Guide DELUXE! Put together by the fans, for the fans!

FINALLY! After 25 years, the Furby community has come together to make the newest addition to the Furby Trainer's Guide series…THE FURBY TRAINER'S GUIDE DELUXE!

In it, you'll find a layout reminiscent to the previous ones, but updated with new information, chapters, sections, images, illustrations, and so much more.

And best of all, it's all FREE TO READ! 445 pages worth of new and updated content!! Download and read the PDF at this link: http://tinyurl.com/FurbyTrainersGuide

Please reblog this so other Furby fans can refer to this guide if needed, and feel free to send it to anyone you feel might be interested :D

EASIEST WAYS TO OPEN THE PDF AFTER DOWNLOADING:

PC: Open it using Adobe Acrobat, which you can download for free here: https://get.adobe.com/reader/

Mobile: Download Adobe Acrobat PDF viewer for mobile devices

What to do if you can't download the file:

First, try checking it out on archive.org: https://archive.org/details/furby-trainers-guide-deluxe-2024

On mobile: You should be able to read the PDF within Google Drive itself. Opening this on mobile may take a few minutes, so leave your device open while you go get a snack to eat while reading the book.

On computer: Since a lot of online PDF sites require a subscription to view large files, i suggest downloading the file onto an external drive like a USB stick and SD card and opening it on Okular from there.

[honeekyuu]

love affair. [tsukishima kei x f!reader] chapter one.

>>The unsavory reputation that Tsukishima Kei has built for himself as the Sendai Frogs' rudest rookie puts his upcoming contract renewal at risk

or

Tsukki really needs a girlfriend, and you really need everyone to stop calling you his pathetic, pining best friend<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: i have a lot of feelings about these two. welcome to those feelings.

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

---------------------------------------

Sendai Frogs Middle Blocker Tsukishima Kei Caught in Heated Argument with Fan

Sendai’s Tsukishima Kei Breaks Paparazzi Camera

Sendai Frogs Player Threatens Reporter Outside Home

You sigh, scrolling down the list of news articles that had populated when you’d entered his name into the search bar. 

“This fucking guy.”

The top links are all reports of his most recent altercation, his newest scandal, the next thing he’s done wrong. Only a few talk about his performance during a game – luckily, he’s beyond talented and had drawn in a substantial amount of the Frogs’ fanbase, so his… poorer points have been overlooked by their management.

Until now.

You sigh again, remembering the text you’d woken up to this morning.

[5:07 AM]

Tsukki: im fucked

Tsukki: management called me in for a morning meeting

Tsukki: come over tn?

You’d groaned, instantly exasperated. You texted back that you would expect him to have dinner ordered by the time you arrived and left it at that, going about your day with a feeling that this had been the last straw for him.

Because Tsukishima Kei had always been trouble.

The boy you’d known in elementary school had been sweet and playful, but he’d had a mischievous streak. It had paired well with your general tendency toward chaos, and your friendship had been built on shared scoldings from teachers and parents.

The boy from middle school – the one who’d learned about betrayal – had been snarky and bitter, tongue sharp and words crafted to draw blood. Stones pelted at those who’d ever spoken ill of you – you, growing into wider-set hips and chubbier thighs than the other girls. You, who’d always hid your insecurities behind Tsukki, your wild smile and silly demeanor keeping others from seeing how painful stones could truly be. 

He’d been almost imperceptibly softer with you – just a bit gentler, lacking the same heat that had scared others off – but he’d still cut you a handful of times. Retorts thrown too quickly in times of high stress, sarcastic comments snapped at your heels a little too thoughtlessly. But you’d always been tough — turned by the cruelty of a few mean boys and girls into something just sharp enough to handle his temper — and he’d learned that he should take care not to cross any real lines with you.

He’d still managed to cross a few in high school, and you’d taught him that you hadn’t been joking. He’d had to learn that the words ‘ I’m sorry ’ were hard to say, but that having you ignore him was harder. 

And one day, those words had stopped working, too. Because a friend shouldn’t lash out enough to need them as often as he always had.

Tsukishima Kei had learned – in the middle of your third year at Karasuno, when a fight had gotten to a point worse than things had ever been between you – what it might mean to lose you. You’d walked away from him that day, and you’d gone weeks without speaking to him. He’d finally shown up at your door after a home game, drenched in the torrential downpour that had started so suddenly that you’re still convinced the universe had put you in a dramatic movie moment on purpose.

But he’d stood there anyway, waiting you out until you’d be willing to talk. Because you’d never once missed a game of his, and because – even if he’d been trying everything to get your attention since your fight – it was starting to feel like this was the nail in the coffin of your friendship. And he simply couldn’t have that. You could yell at him – bicker and snap and fight – but your silence was unacceptable.

He’d stood there at your door, blond hair plastered to his forehead and rain-covered glasses hiding his eyes completely, as you’d beaten his walls down to nothing. Screaming, you’d gone on and on about his lack of consideration and care for you – about every moment that had felt like a punch to the gut when nothing of the sort should be allowed in a friendship – until you’d run out of breath. Until all you could do was stand there on your doorstep and sob, the storm drowning you out to everyone but him.

He hadn’t said a single word, only stepping up to you once you’d stopped and wiping your snot-covered face with the front of his drenched volleyball shirt.

“ Okay, ” He’d finally mumbled, voice thick with regret as you’d cried into his chest. “ I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. ”

You two hadn’t had a single problem since. Things had gone back to normal, with Tsukki toeing the line but, without fail, never crossing it.

You’d been secretly glad he hadn’t changed all that much. He was still the same. He was still Tsukki.

The rest of high school had passed by in a series of rolled eyes and exasperated comments. College had started just the same, with new friends made and roommates come and gone, but Tsukishima Kei right where he’s always been. People here were less rude, less judgmental of your size and the unapologetic demeanor that had been built because of it. You’d made friends here, although never ones that could compare to the Karasuno Volleyball boys, who still float in your social orbit even now. Shimizu Kiyoko floats closer still, one of your dearest friends to this day.

And, still , already three years into college, Tsukki’s what he’s always been. 

Brutally honest and annoyingly coarse.

Sarcastic at best and a cloud of misery at worst.

Immovably loyal and at your side without question.

He’s the same as always, if not a bit more mature with age. Your relationship’s developed into one of constant exasperation, witnessing his every moment of idiocy into adulthood. He’s a nightmare to have a serious conversation with, but you’ve learned that he always listens, even when he wants to do anything but that. Your arguments are frequent, but never serious.

Any hint of a real fight is always squashed promptly under his feet, his hands calming on your shoulders and his tone losing its edge the moment he’d spot the telltale signs of your anger – he’d always give in first, even with a personality as stubborn as his. The balance between his commonplace sarcasm and something more serious is a delicate one, but he’d managed to find it with you. 

The issue, however, is that you are the exception.

Tsukishima had been recruited by the Sendai Frogs in your third year, playing successfully and renewing the year-long contract for the following school year – the unspoken agreement being a full-time professional contract with them after graduation. He’d been sheltered, in a way, last year, because it had been a soft launch – a trial run to see how he’d do, how the Frogs fans would take to him.

As it turns out, the road to going pro comes with as many problems as it does benefits.

Upon signing the contract for this year, the Frogs management had officially introduced their It Boy to the world. 

Tsukishima Kei – 21 years old, Middle Blocker. 

He’d been thrown into an unending schedule at the beginning of the year – any time outside of practice and games is taken by interviews, sponsorships, media promotion. His face and name had been plastered over billboards and brand collabs, the Sendai Frogs’ Middle Blocker a player slated to bring the volleyball world to its knees.

But the most important, truly – the thing that had started all his problems – is the invasion of privacy.

He’d managed to make it to the start of summer vacation while juggling the newfound fame, but – with the halfway point of his temporary contract approaching quickly – the Frogs fans had recently become rabid. People clambering over each other in classes to get a better look at him, baristas writing their number on his coffee cups at cafes (and then posting his coffee order online, of course), and his face posted all over the internet. Every miniscule move he makes is posted to Twitter – his class schedules, his mealtimes, his practice hours. Paparazzi at his apartment, at his car, at his classes.

He’s everywhere, and that’s too much, even for him.

He and Yamaguchi had had to move to a gated, private townhouse together, unable to stay in their dingy off-campus apartment anymore – too many people had tried the locks and camped out in front for a single glimpse of the up and coming star athlete. 

You hadn’t escaped the public eye unscathed, either. You’d seen enough comments about yourself online – what your relationship with Tsukishima Kei might be, and why it always seemed just non-platonic enough to be questionable but completely unable to be pinned down. What you may or may not be gaining from hanging around this rising heartthrob, and – notably – how you could possibly think he’d be interested in you, given your… physical attributes.

You’d learned to be good at ignoring those comments, but it hadn’t come without damage. Damage that had taken the form of quiet arguments with Tsukki about not wanting to go out into the world with him, irritated demands that you not let the irrelevant comments of a few internet trolls affect your friendship. More than a few instances of Tadashi and Kiyoko showing up to your door with takeout and some reassurances, Tsukki’s barrage of whiny texts set aside for a night.

It had gotten easier over the summer, your ability to ignore the public’s opinion not necessarily stronger, but your ability to hide the effects of it certainly solidified. You manage to shake off the minor stress that comes with leaving your little studio apartment every morning, and you’re happy with the balance of your private and public life by Tsukishima Kei’s side.

What you’re not happy with – very crucially – is his inability to keep his name out of the tabloids for picking fights with paparazzi.

– 

By the time you make it to his townhouse, it’s well past 5pm and you’re nearly dead on your feet from the full day of work and classes. School’s just picked up again, and your professors seem to not know the meaning of ‘syllabus week’. 

Tadashi answers the door, glancing over your shoulder at the poorly hidden paparazzi across the street before gesturing you into the house.

“He’s not here.”

You blink, taken aback. “What?” Where the hell-

“I am now.” 

You turn, finding Tsukki just behind you in the doorway, a bag of takeout in hand and his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He shuts the door and kicks off his shoes, eyeing the narrow glare you’re giving him.

“Got something to say?”

Your tone is sharp. “Did you really break a reporter’s camera last night?”

He nods, not even a little bit ashamed. “He was sitting on my car after practice, waiting for me. And then he wouldn’t get off of it.”

You sigh while Yamaguchi nods understandingly. 

“Yeah, alright, that’s annoying…”

“ Annoying isn’t enough to justify my reaction, apparently.” He shakes his head, following the two of you into the kitchen. He leaves the bag on the island for you to unpack and disappears down the hall toward his bedroom to change. You withdraw containers of curry and set about serving three plates of it, navigating their kitchen without issue.

Tadashi mumbles quietly beside you. “How fucked is he?”

You shake your head, sighing again. “Infinitely fucked, I’d say.”

“You saw the look in his eye?” He cuts a questioning glance at you, his concern apparent. You just nod, pouring out drinks for the group.

“He’s not telling us something.”

“ He’s right here.”

You both look up, finding Tsukki in the doorway with a pinched scowl and high, tensed shoulders. He lifts a brow at you.

“I’m fine. ”

You and Tadashi make brief eye contact before snorting in unison and pushing past him to the living room with the food. You take a corner of the couch, and Yamaguchi occupies the armchair beside you.

“So, what’d they say?” You ask. 

“Off the team yet?” He follows up with a joking smile.

No one acknowledges the underlying nerves you’re both displaying when you look Tsukki over. As much as he needs to get his attitude in check, neither of you can fathom a world in which the Frogs had let him go.

Tsukki flops down on the other end of the couch and breathes out a quiet sigh, slumping back into the cushions. “Management is unhappy with the reputation I’ve created for myself.”

You nod, taking a bite. You’d expected that.

“Okay…?” You draw your knees up under yourself, watching him stare up at the ceiling.

“They have asked-” He lifts his brows, considering something. “-well, more like threatened – that I make a major change to my lifestyle in order to fix the growing impression of me before it becomes ‘solidified’,” He quotes with his fingers, smiling mirthlessly. “Or my full-time contract’s on the line. They want me to find something to make me seem more…” He trails off, staring off to the side now, in your general direction.

“Pleasant. Approachable. Relatable. Soft.” He shrugs. “That kind of thing.”

Months of watching Tsukki adjust to the celebrity lifestyle makes translating this a breeze. 

“They want you to get a girlfriend,” Yamaguchi concludes, spooning curry into his mouth.

He laughs bitterly. “And they want it fast.”

You take another bite, shrugging when he looks over at you. “Better get to downloading dating apps, then.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re enjoying this.” He tugs his phone out of his pocket, anyway, glancing briefly at his roommate. “You’re both enjoying this.”

“Well, you didn’t get kicked off the team, so-” Yamaguchi relaxes, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Mm-hm-” You agree. “You did this to yourself.” And then you scoot in, watching him download a few apps. “Cast your phone to the TV so we can watch.”

“You’re funny- hey- ” 

You snatch his phone away, connecting his phone to the TV and projecting his open Tinder screen. You slap his hands when he reaches for you, setting his profile up for him in a matter of minutes. He snorts.

“Experienced in online dating?”

“Gotta do something to pass the time in between classes.” 

You only realize how it sounds when they both eye you in amused surprise. Tsukki sits up to look at you properly, scandalized and face split in a wide grin. “Gotta do what in between classes, exactly?” 

“Wait-”

Tadashi giggles into his hands, sinking low in the armchair, and Tsukki shakes his head, tutting in disappointment at you.

“That’s a crazy thing to admit out loud, Y/n-”

“Shut up ,” You shove him, tossing his phone back and then pointing at the TV. “Start swiping.”

He relaxes back into the couch with a laugh, and the three of you eat your dinner with the entertainment of the night.

–

“Pass.”

“Aw, she’s cute.”

“Exactly. Girls who are cute usually can’t handle me.”

“...Was that a reference to his personality or to sex?” You ask, eyeing Tadashi fearfully.

He shakes his head beside you. “Better not to ask, I fear.”

Tsukki’s suspicious grin is enough for your lip to curl in disgust.

“Ew.”

“I’m just being honest,” He shrugs, unapologetic.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, speaking down to him like he’s a child. “Well, if you don’t start swiping right on cute girls, your contract’s going up in flames, sweetheart.”

“ Ugh -” Tsukki groans loudly, throwing his phone down on the couch. “This isn’t working. None of these girls are the right fit.”

“Then maybe your standards shouldn’t be literally impossible to meet!” Yamaguchi throws his hands up in exasperation. “We’ve been at this a whole hour, and you’ve only swiped right on one girl.”

“Yeah, but she had nice tits,” He admits plainly.

You and Yamaguchi stare, deadpan. “You’re terrible,” You say eventually.

“Yeah,” Tsukki sighs. “I know.” He takes a breath, and then he’s turning to you with wide eyes. “Oh, hey! You have nice tits, too – you be my girlfriend.”

Yamaguchi promptly chokes on his drink, and you reach to yank the pillow out from under Tsukki’s head.

“Stop-” You smack him in the face with it repeatedly. “-Being. Gross.”

“It was a compliment!” He laughs, blocking his head and then catching the pillow with ease. You enter into an unwilling match of tug-of-war. “And I already know our personalities work together, so I don’t have to go through the pain of a talking stage!”

You eye him with suspicion, pulling the pillow toward you. “You’re not actually considering this.” You look back at Yamaguchi. “He’s not actually considering this, right?”

Your friend just stares, shocked.

Tsukki pulls hard on the pillow, catching you off guard and launching you toward him. “Oh, I most certainly am.”

“Tsukishima Kei-” You tug, hard. He resists. “Get that thought out of your head right now.”

“Come on-” He argues. “We are clearly a match made in Heaven.”

“In Hell, you mean!” You laugh. “There’s no way!” You look at Yamaguchi in panic. “Help me!”

The man just shrugs uselessly. “This conversation wasn’t on my bingo card for the year. I’m stumped.”

Tsukki rolls his eyes. “Come on, Y/n. It’s not like you’ve got guys lined up outside your door-”

“How would you know?” You snap, a little offended. “I could be going on dates every night-”

“When would you have time for that? You’re with me most nights.” He leans in, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Even more evidence that we should just date.”

“Get away from me-” You push him back with your foot, putting distance between you. He just grabs your ankle and pulls you toward him, and you scream as you’re dragged down the length of the couch. 

Tsukki starts to clamber over you, but that finally sets Yamaguchi in motion, the boy standing quickly and yanking Tsukki by his hair back to the other side of the couch.

“Play nice, you freak,” He says, smacking the blond hard on the forehead. Tsukki just laughs, one of those rare laughs that makes you forget why you were ever mad in the first place.

“Okay, okay!” He yells, struggling to be freed from Yamaguchi’s torture.

You crawl back to your corner, kicking him for good measure while you go. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Tsukki argues, still smiling wide. “This is literally a win-win.” He fixes himself, keeping an eye on Yamaguchi while he talks, because the freckled boy is grabbing a magazine off the coffee table and rolling it up. “We’re good together.”

“This is only a win-win for you,” You fight, listing things off and ticking them on your fingers as you go. “You’re annoying, arrogant, have poor impulse control and a short temper, and– importantly – we don’t even like each other!” You throw your hands out as best you can, emphasizing it. “Why would we date when we’re not attracted to each other?”

He doesn’t answer, only flicking his gaze down the length of your body appreciatively before meeting your eyes again. He sees that you’ve seen it, your gaze wary, and he grins wickedly.

“Who’s ‘we’?” 

That earns him a rolled magazine to the head.

“I’m just saying,” He laughs. “Just think of how much Management would like it if I found a girlfriend right away, and one that they know is good for me-”

“Alright-” You plant your feet on the floor with an irritated sigh, suddenly tired of this conversation. “-don’t bring them into this to guilt-trip me.” You stand, clearly making to leave.

Tsukki’s smile drops, and he stands quickly, his jokes forgotten. “What? Wait-” His eyes are wide, betraying genuine surprise. You frown, and his eyes track it. He gauges your annoyance, seeing that it’s starting to tip into something more.

“Okay,” He breathes, suddenly quite serious. He holds his hands out toward you carefully, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back to the couch with him. Yamaguchi perches on the arm of the couch, observing quietly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tsukki tries. “I actually kinda do think we’d be good together.” When you don’t seem to believe it, he tries again. “And I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. I do think Management genuinely knows that you’re good for me-”

You know that, too. You know that Management has always liked you. That’s why this idea scares you just a little bit.

Because it’s feasible.

“No one’s going to believe that we’re together if we clearly-” You swallow hard and gesture between you. “-don’t have that kind of kind of chemistry, Tsukki.”

He shrugs. “It’s not that hard to act. We have the friendship chemistry, so we’re not uncomfortable. We would just need to add-”

“Holding hands? Kissing? Entirely different body language? Clear physical attraction?” You argue, lifting your brows.

He nods like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Yeah. That’s not that bad.”

You level him with a meaningful look. “Tsukishima.” You smile bitterly when he blinks at the use of his full name. “ Look at me.”

Tadashi makes a noise of protest over Tsukki’s shoulder, clearly disapproving of where you’re going with this, but the blond just stares.

“I am looking at you.”

You laugh, shaking your head and standing again. “Good luck with Tinder, Tsukki, but I’m outta here-”

There’s a 6’3” wall in your way when you try to leave.

“You really need to get over that shit.”

You whip your head up to look into Tsukki’s eyes, affronted.

“ Excuse me?”

He’s unyielding, golden eyes hard on yours. “I’m not taking that as a valid reason. Come up with something else if you really don’t want to do this.”

“Tsukki-”

“Give me a better reason, Y/n.”

“It makes no sense, Tsukishima!” You scoff, all but laughing in his face. “Not a single person is going to believe that we’re together. We’re going to look stupid together-”

“I don’t think we look stupid together,” He cuts you short, turning to Yamaguchi. “Do you think we look stupid together?”

Tadashi flicks his gaze back and forth from Tsukki’s to yours, clearly torn. When he sighs and it becomes clear he’s about to take Tsukki’s side, you gape at him.

“Yamaguchi!”

He gives you a regretful look. “It’s not unreasonable , Y/n. People already wonder what you two are, anyway.” He rolls his eyes when you stare at him in disbelief, lifting his hands helplessly. “We all know you balance him out. Think of the good you could do, whipping this idiot into shape.”

Tsukki turns to you with a victorious smile, eyebrows lifted. “Consider me whipped.”

You groan, snatching your bag off the floor and pushing past them. “Goodbye.”

Tsukki’s slipping his shoes on at the door with you, only snatching his keys from the bowl when you shoot him a questioning glare.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says as he props the door open for you.

You’re about to remind him that 7pm in the summer is not that late, but the flash of a camera catches your attention. You turn, shielding your eyes from the paparazzi snapping pictures at the end of the driveway.

“Don’t you have a family to spend time with or something?” Tsukki says over your head, his voice tense.

You elbow him hard. “You really gotta stop giving them what they want,” You grumble, stomping down the front steps. The blink of Tsukki’s headlights and the gentle purr of his car remote-starting is the only response he gives you, and you trudge over to the passenger-side door. You wave tiredly at the cameraman standing just past the gate and give him a smile.

“I’d love to say he’s above hitting you with his car, but he’s having a bad day.”

The man chuckles at your joke. “I suppose I shouldn’t take any chances, then.” He takes a few more photos, but he steps out of the way regardless.

Tsukki stares at you when you settle in next to him with a sigh.

“How do you do that? I had to break a guy’s camera to get his ass off the hood of my car.”

You shrug, closing your eyes and leaning against the headrest. “It’s not groundbreaking work, Tsukki. Try being nice once in a while.”

He drives you home in silence.

You keep your eyes on the sideview mirror, watching the unmarked van that’s trailing the car the whole way there.

What would be the difference, really, if you pretend to date Tsukishima Kei? You already get followed home and to classes. You already hear all the whispers when you walk anywhere with him. You’re already all over the internet, comments about your body plastered everywhere for the world to see.

It doesn’t really matter that you’re not interested in Tsukki, does it? It’d be laughable for anyone to question that you could fall for him – he’s tall and objectively gorgeous. Everyone wants him.

The issue is you.

You’ve seen the girls he goes home with at parties.

Your eyes shift from the unmarked van to your own reflection, and you chuckle under your breath.

Yes, you’re good for Tsukishima Kei – you manage his unacceptably short temper. You support him unconditionally and keep him in check. You always have. You’re everything Management needs from him.

But the issue is still you.

“Would you cut it out?”

You blink, turning to look at Tsukki’s side profile while he drives. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other tapping an irritated rhythm on the middle console. He shifts his eyes briefly in your direction before lifting them to watch the van behind you, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“What?” You say, the silence in the car a bit suffocating.

“I’m asking you to cut it the fuck out. Whatever’s going on in your head – cut it out.”

You lift a brow. “And what would that be?”

“I don’t know, Y/n – whatever insane shit you think about yourself.” He shakes his head, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex. Thankfully, it’s a big one with hundreds of units, and the paparazzi have always had the sense not to follow you in.

He pulls up to the main door, putting the car in park and leaning back in his seat with a tight sigh. You both watch the van pull up in front of you, the man on the passenger’s side hopping out and snapping photos of the two of you staring back at him.

“Look,” He says quietly, in a way that reeks of an oncoming argument. You can see him gripping the middle console like he’s stopping himself from getting out of the car. “I know what people say about you. The comments they make about your body and your looks and everything else.”

You stare out the window, nodding. It’s amazing how desensitized you’ve become to the barrage of flashing lights that comes with Tsukishima Kei. “I’ve been hearing it since we were kids-”

“Yeah, exactly. Since we were kids , Y/n. Are you gonna let this be an issue for the rest of our lives?”

You look at him, your skin flushing with anger. “What are you trying to say? It’s not like you have the same problems I do.”

He meets your eyes, gaze burning. “I’m telling you to get the fuck over yourself. Are you gonna listen to a bunch of assholes who don’t matter? Or are you gonna listen to me ?” When your jaw drops, he pushes. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. I’ll let it go. But not if this is your reason.”

“My reason, Kei -” You spit, matching his anger. “-is that I don’t feel like being the laughing stock of your little fanbase.”

“And you think this is gonna stop them?” He smiles, but it’s irritated. “You want me to find some supermodel to date? You think they won’t make comparisons between you and the girl on my arm?”

You hadn’t thought of that.

That you wouldn’t be the pathetic, pining girl trailing after Tsukishima Kei anymore.

You’d be the jealous friend.

Pathetic, pining, jealous little Y/n.

A light flashes in your periphery, and a headline flashes with it – a week from now, when the Sendai Frogs have confirmed his new, unnamed girlfriend to the public.

Tsukishima Kei and Friend Y/l/n Y/n Seen Arguing – New Relationship the Cause?

You’re unable to stop the aggravated growl that spills out when you sigh through your nose.

“They think they know who you are, Y/n. But they don’t. They fucked it up.” Tsukki keeps your gaze locked on his – his eyes are dangerous, like he’s predicting the headlines, too.

He leans toward you. “So show them,” He says. “ Show them who you are.”

You lean forward, too, your face a little too close to his. 

“And how do you suggest I do that, Kei?”

The camera flashes, and your chest flickers with some unknown excitement.

His smile is wicked, mocking.

“ Fix me.” He lifts a brow when you glare, doubling down. “Or be the girl that watches someone else do it.”

You kind of want to kill him.

–

You lie facedown on your bed for hours that night, listening as Kiyoko laughs on your couch. She lives in the same complex, only a few floors above you, and she’d made the long journey all the way here just to laugh at you.

She stays with you the whole night, laughing until she cries. And then she laughs some more, because that picture of you in Tsukki’s car is already circulating the internet.

“You’re so fucked,” Kiyoko heaves between breaths, sometime around 2am. She’d moved to the bed with you hours ago, scrolling through Twitter and showing you some of the more unhinged reactions to the photo.

[12:24 AM] TsukkiFan0927 : no because they MUST be fucking????

[1:07 AM] user9329348 : those two have always been so shady together,,, no way that this is new

[1:46 AM] TsukkiYnShipper : TSUKKIYN NATION WE RIDE AT DAWN

You just groan, dragging your phone out and pulling up your text thread with Tsukki.

[2:09 AM]

You: my life would be so peaceful without you in it

He responds immediately.

Tsukki: ill pick you up tomorrow <3

Tsukishima Kei is nothing but trouble.

–

There are an unusual amount of paparazzi outside your apartment complex the next morning.

You stop short when you exit the building, taken aback.

Everyone stares back, no lights flashing. They just stare.

“Uh-Good morning?” You say, blinking at the group of about 15 people. One or two wave in greeting, but no one else wants to break the seal.

No one wants to ask, not yet.

You pull out your phone, about to text Tsukki to hurry the fuck up before things get weirder, but you hear the purr of his car pulling into the lot before you can send it.

The seal breaks all at once.

You lose sight of the car, flashing lights all going off at the same time and effectively blinding you.

You hear your name, over and over again.

“ Y/n, is it true? ”

“ Over here, Y/n! ”

“ What did you two talk about in his car last night, Y/n ?”

There’s a hand on your arm, wrapped tight around your bicep. You inhale sharply, worried that you’re about to be mauled on the very first day of dating Tsukishima Kei.

“ Move your feet, dumbfuck. ”

Oh. It’s him.

“ Mm-kay ,” You mumble, letting Tsukki drag you to his car and all but throw you in the front seat.

Somehow, the lights are worse in here, and you can’t tell if your name is still being called or if that’s just an echo ringing in your ears.

Tsukki climbs in beside you and slams the door. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Why?” You ask, already grabbing for it. 

He shifts gears jerkily, and you go flying against the door as he peels out of the lot.

“Tsukki!” You scold, hearing his tires squeal against the pavement.

“You were too slow,” He jokes, eyes on the rearview mirror. You turn, spotting the army of vans that are following behind him.

“Dude,” You breathe, sinking down into the seat. “It was one picture .” 

“Regret anything yet?” He says, catching the light just before it turns red and leaving all the vans behind.

“I regret everything,” You say without hesitation. “All of it. Every second.”

When he doesn’t respond, you turn to him. He’s got his eyes on the road and the mirrors, seemingly calm. But his teeth wear down on the inside of his lip, and he’s not sparing you a single glance.

You sigh, nudging him gently. “I’m kidding.”

He gives easily, lip released from its torture. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Tsukki. It’s fine.”

“We’re good?”

“We’re good ,” You say, smiling when he scoffs. “It’s better than me being labeled the sad, jealous friend while you date some airhead that’s after your fame and fortune.”

He grins then. “Aw, you’re not that much of an airhead.”

“Let’s break up.”

He laughs the whole way to campus.

–

You finally understand why Tsukki snaps at the paparazzi.

They’re everywhere – outside your classes and at your favorite cafe. Just two of them, but you’re uncomfortably familiar with them by the end of your second class. You’d given up sometime around lunch, turning in place on your way to the dining hall and asking if they just wanted to walk with you instead of trailing behind.

You eat your lunch with Hiro from SMZ and Nariko from Sendai Sports that day. You don’t answer a single question of theirs, just smiling and spooning rice into your mouth as you ask about their lives instead.

They’re bemused at your strange approach, and you play this game all afternoon with them – by the time Tsukki’s practice is over, you’re hoping you’ve gained at least some of their favor. 

Hopefully, they’ll post nice things about you. Only the good photos, maybe.

Still, the air shifts when they realize you’re heading for the university’s gym – Tsukki practices on campus with a private coach in the afternoons, going to the Frogs’ gym to practice after classes are done. 

You can see them itching to lift their cameras, itching to ask the same questions again.

When did it start? Are you official? How did it happen?

The building comes into view, and you spot his blond hair near the entrance. You clear your throat.

“So… I think I’m gonna have to leave you here,” You say, gesturing around you now that you’re at the base of the stairs. 

They both look dejected, like they were hoping for an introduction. You just give them a thin smile and turn, hurrying up the stairs before they decide to stop being respectful of your boundaries.

Tsukki’s got his eyes over your shoulder as you approach.

“What’d they want?”

“To know my regular order at the dining hall,” You say simply. You stop a friendly distance away, seeing when he eyes the space between you. His smirk speaks before he does.

“You forgot a few feet.”

You grimace, taking a single step toward him. He takes the rest, his body brushing briefly against yours.

You look up at him expectantly. “How should I greet you?”

“However you want.”

“I wouldn’t suppose a friendly hug would do.”

A light flashes when he smiles down at you, and you’re wondering if the world’s ever seen it before.

“No,” He says, humored. “I don’t suppose it would. But a not-friendly hug might.”

You stare down at your shoes, thankful your back is to the cameras.

It’s a bit strange to realize, but you’ve never hugged Tsukki before. Not really.

A casual pat on the back, yes. The occasional side-hug, maybe.

But a hug – despite its simplicity, its lack of meaning – is not something you can ever remember doing with him.

You think of how you hug Tadashi, how you’d hug Hinata or even Kageyama after a game in high school. It’s so easy with them.

The idea of Tsukishima Kei wrapping his arms around you is… odd.

Very odd.

Still, you’ve wasted enough time already. It’s the only option.

You lift your arms, wondering if you resemble a petulant child, and Tsukki just grins and bends down, his bag slipping off his shoulder when he slides his arms around your waist. You’re pulled onto your toes, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

Hugging Tsukishima Kei is not what you’d expected.

You’d always seen him as some cold wall of annoyance – a big, dumb athlete who was always a little painful to smack on the chest after a crude remark. A boy who’d always been rough, who’d grown strong and become some untouchable statue made of cold marble.

But he’s not cold at all.

The air around him is warm, smelling just slightly of sweat from practice but more than anything of that scent that’s distinctly Tsukki . That clean smell that you’d unknowingly grown to associate with comfort. That unplaceable warmth that smells like your childhood.

His hands are bigger than you’d realized, fingers long and warm against the small of your back. His chest is just as hard as always – that unmoveable wall that towers over you – but it feels weird against yours. It feels weird to feel his heartbeat – have you never felt his heartbeat before? Has he always had one?

You wonder if he can feel that your cheeks burn against his neck, if the heat is notable in this little pocket of quiet you’ve found. If your skin warms under his fingers, which rest strangely against the spot where your shirt’s ridden up a bit.

“ How was practice? ” You mumble shyly against his throat, feeling when he swallows hard. You can’t decide if it’s his heart or your own that you’re hearing right now, pounding somewhere near your ears.

“‘ s fine, ” He says, and you hear the hitch in his breath. 

This is weird for him, too, then.

Good. That’s good. This is weird for both of you. You’re not alone in this.

You pull away, clearing your throat quietly. Tsukki lets you slide carefully down to your feet, his fingers skimming the skin under your shirt just before he pulls away, his movements rushed and sharp.

Your skin burns where his fingers had been, and trying to ignore it only makes you more aware of it.

You glance briefly up at him, unable to control the double-take you do when you see him. He won’t meet your eyes, but his face is radiating heat, a blush high on his cheeks and his ears a rather interesting shade of red.

You watch him glance at your ears, too, and the tiny smirk he suppresses tells you that you don’t look much better.

You swallow, wondering where the hell this humming under your skin’s come from.

“Uh-” Your breath catches when his golden eyes meet yours, and you recover clumsily. “I have-”

What do you have? 

Class.

“I have to get to class,” You blurt, blinking rapidly.

He just blinks back, as though he’d also forgotten why you’d met him here.

“Right,” He says. “Class. I’ll walk you.”

“Okay,” You respond, turning on your heel and heading down the stairs. You hear him follow after you, but then there’s a hurried shuffle behind you, the lights of the paparazzi flashing in a frenzy.

You turn back quickly, finding Tsukki tripping over his own feet to get back up the stairs, his bag left abandoned at the top.

You can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face, and you know the flashes that follow are for you.

Tsukki snatches his bag up and turns to you, spotting your teasing grin before you can smother it.

He rolls his eyes, stomping to catch up with you.

“Shut up.”

You laugh the whole way to the crosswalk.

–

Kei doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He doesn’t understand why he feels so skittish, why his fingers are a bit numb. He doesn’t know why he keeps looking at you, what he could possibly be searching for when he watches you.

His eyes scan you while he walks you across campus to your next class. He barely notices the people whispering around you, his gaze tracking the uneven rise and fall of your chest and the white-knuckled grip you have on your bag.

Okay. So you felt it, too.

Good. He’s not crazy.

The memory of your skin under his fingers flashes through his mind. You’d been so soft – he hadn’t realized how soft you are. He’d never even considered it. Soft and warm, heartbeat racing against his chest and arms wrapped tight around his neck. Breath shaky and fanning out over his skin when you’d whispered something about practice.

His fingers itch to touch you again, because he’d never thought to do that, either.

Fuck. He probably is going crazy.

He clears his throat, watching when your fingers twitch on your bag in response.

“We, uh-” He lets out a breath, seeing your building come into view and wanting to say something – anything – to smooth this silence over before you leave. “-probably shouldn’t do things for the first time in public like that again.”

It works. You laugh under your breath. 

“Why? Scared to look like an idiot again?”

Okay, it’s at his expense. But you laughed.

“I’m sure you didn’t look so great yourself,” He says, biting down a grin when you smile.

“That’s too bad,” You say, a teasing edge in your tone. “I was just about to hold your hand.”

Kei chokes, his cough loud and embarrassed. He shoots you a glare when you glance up at him in amusement.

“I swallowed a bug.”

“A bug,” You repeat, nodding and turning away to hide your laugh. “Still think it’s so easy to act, Tsukki?”

He wants to go back in time and beat his past self into shutting the hell up for once.

But that’s not an option, so he just braces himself and shifts minimally closer to you, the back of his hand brushing up against yours. 

He feels you falter beside him, and it gives him just enough courage to do it.

Your hands are a lot smaller than he’d realized. But your fingers slot easily with his.

He can’t tell if it’s his hand or yours that’s clammy, but he’s tempted to say it’s yours because this has never once happened to him before. Not a single one of the girls he’d ever dated had made his palms sweat, so it can’t be him. Had any boys before him ever made you nervous like this?

Had there been any boys before him?

“Is this your first time?” He vomits those words right out, hating every fiber of his being once it’s done.

You look up at him, so taken aback that you visibly become less nervous. “Holding hands with a boy?” You say, smiling mockingly. “No, Tsukki. This isn’t my first time. Sorry to disappoint.”

He rolls his eyes, flushing. “Not what I meant.”

“I know.” You laugh to yourself, pausing outside the building where he’s meant to leave you. He can see people lingering, but no one’s close enough to hear your conversation.

“You know I’ve had boyfriends before, right?” You level him with that teasing look you always have.

Had you? Had he known that?

Oh, God , you totally had. He remembers now, the guy from first year whose face he’s forgotten. And the summer fling after him.

He knows this. Of course he knows this – why hadn’t he remembered?

How far had you gone with them? Had you told him?

“So,” He swallows. “You’ve…” He trails off and hopes you’ll understand, but you just frown up at him. He sighs. “You’ve done… everything, then?”

Your expression changes to one of alarm, and he all but feels the air between you warm.

“ Why ?” You ask, your tone sharp and your voice lowered to a whisper. “Do you plan on changing the answer if I say no?”

Kei’s heart flies to his throat, and his face burns with a horrible, horrible heat.

“No, I-” 

Why the fuck had he asked you that? Why does that matter? What’s he so curious for?

“Y/n,” He starts, holding tight when you start to pull away. He hadn’t even realized you were still holding hands. “Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”

Your face is still burning with embarrassment, and you mumble a response up to him, glancing around.

“You know that’s not gonna happen, right?”

“ Yes- ” He sighs, frustrated and more than a little humiliated. “I’m not expecting-It was a stupid question. I was just curious.”

“You gonna be okay, player?” You ask, and he thinks maybe he’s just seen the ghost of a teasing grin on your face, but he can’t tell. “You ever been celibate before?”

“God, please leave me the hell alone,” He groans, laughing pathetically and dropping your hand to rub the heat out of his cheeks. You definitely smile then, suddenly enjoying his embarrassment more than anything. 

He realizes after a moment that people are starting to file out of different buildings – it must be passing period, then. 

“You should go,” He says, nudging you toward your building. 

You nod, stepping back toward him and lifting onto your toes to wrap your arms around his neck again. His breath hitches, and he barely manages to loop his arms around your waist.

You’re just as soft as you were the first time.

You lower away from him, and he realizes distantly some other students are taking photos and whispering. But you just smile briefly up at him, your voice gentle.

“Not so weird that time.”

Was it not?

He nods dumbly and smiles when you wave bye.

When you’re gone, he has no clue what to do with himself. What is he supposed to be doing right now?

Class in an hour and practice downtown afterward. Right.

He turns on his heel, ignoring everyone’s stares and trying his hardest to squash the stupid look on his face as he walks back toward his car.

He’s about halfway there when his phone buzzes with a text.

[2:47 PM]

You: and for your stupid information

You: i have done a lot

You: but no

You: i have not done everything

You: goodbye

Kei has to take a seat on the nearest bench, ignoring the paparazzi and random underclassmen that are following him.

He sits and stares down at nothing, wondering why the thought of you being a virgin is making his head spin and his ears ring. Wondering – as he drops his head into his hands and sighs loudly – why his palms are so fucking sweaty.

–

“You told him what ?”

You groan, throwing yourself back on your mattress. Kiyoko clambers onto the bed after you, shaking you violently.

“ Why would you tell him you’re a virgin?!”

“Because I am ?” You laugh pathetically, hiding your face in your hands. She just shakes you again.

“But why did you tell him ?!”

“I don’t know! He asked!”

“ What?! ” 

“ Kiyoko- ” You protest and turn over, assuming your standard face-down position of dread. “I don’t know. It just happened. And it was weird.”

“Well, what did he say-”

“Nothing!” You toss your phone next to her on the bed, hearing her unlock it and search through your messages. “Nothing, because there’s nothing he can say. It’s not like there’s anything to do about it.”

There’s a silence from her, one that prompts you to look at her. She just stares at you, disbelieving.

“I mean,” She starts. “Do you know that for sure?”

You hide your face again. “Shut up. We agreed that things wouldn’t get that far. There’s literally no reason for us to ever do that.”

“No, I get that-” She coughs, and you figure that she’s hiding a laugh. “-but he did ask… and you did tell him…”

“ Kiyoko, ” You whine, pulling your pillow over your head for good measure while you complain, your voice muffled. “ I can barely hug the guy without it being weird. ”

You hadn’t lied. It was definitely easier the second time, and even easier the third time, when he’d picked you up from your last class and driven you home before he’d left for practice downtown. 

It had not, however, been a comfortable ride home, because you two had just sat in uncertain silence – uncertain, because neither of you could fathom why you would ever tell him how far you’d gone before him.

And it had not been easy the fourth time he’d hugged you, in front of your building and about ten reporters. Because he’d turned his head just enough to brush his lips tentatively over your cheek, and you’d stilled in his arms, your face thankfully hidden in his chest again.

You couldn’t bear for the internet to see the look on your face the first time Tsukishima Kei had ever kissed you.

He’d gotten into his car and driven off, and you’d run upstairs and called Kiyoko without a second thought.

You can barely hug him, and that sad excuse for a kiss had put you on high alert.

There’s absolutely no world in which it would be natural for you to have sex with Tsukishima Kei. No world in which it could ever be considered.

“Okay,” Kiyoko laughs when you groan in fresh embarrassment. “I’m sure you’ll get used to doing the smaller things in public with him.”

You’re about groan again, but a quiet ding comes from Kiyoko’s palms.

“Uh-” She cuts short, and your stomach flips nervously.

“ What’s it say? ” You mumble, knowing it’s him.

She clears her throat awkwardly, and your nerves worsen.

“He wants to come over.”

You wither, there in your hiding spot, and mumble a pathetic response. 

“ Okay. Sure. ”

–

“Do you… want to shower?” You gesture lamely down the hall to your bathroom, Tsukki standing awkwardly in the foyer with his bag.

You see him swallow hard, and you realize how it’d come out.

“Because you’re gross,” You blurt, watching his eyebrows fly up and his tense expression become a teasing grin.

“Yeah, I got it the first time, Y/n,” He says, padding into your living room. “But thanks for clarifying.”

You flush, watching him drop his bag and head for your dresser. He plucks a set of his own clothes out of the bottom drawer, chuckling to himself as he does it.

“I probably shouldn’t stay long. If I leave in different clothes, things’ll get weird downstairs.”

And then there’s silence, because he’d said it without considering the rather salient implications of that sentence.

You sigh when the bathroom door clicks shut, falling onto your bed and contemplating hiding your face again.

He emerges after ten minutes, as you’re texting a very nosy Kiyoko. He stares down at you until you nervously lift your eyes to his. And then he takes a breath.

“We good?”

You hadn’t realized how much you needed such a simple question.

“Yeah,” You say with a breath of laughter. “We’re good.”

His relief is apparent in the way he throws himself down beside you and extracts his own phone, opening Twitter. You’re both quiet for a while, scrolling through his feed together and seeing that his name is trending.

“ ‘#tsukkiyn ’,” He says, snorting. “Look at us, going viral.”

You see a video of him tripping over his feet on the stairs of the gym, scrambling for his bag, and you purse your lips to keep from laughing.

“Look at you. You’re a wreck.”

“Shut up,” He laughs, scrolling past it to a photo of the two of you walking across campus. He’s got his fingers interlaced with yours – it must have been the moment he’d done it, because your eyes are bugged out with shock.

Tsukki laughs loudly, immediately liking and retweeting it without thinking. You gasp.

“ Tsukishima Kei- ” 

His notifications flood with replies and likes, the whole world seeming to react all at once.

[6:59 PM] tsukkiynstan77 : HELLO??? IS THIS CONFIRMATION????

[6:59 PM] kookooforkei : NO FUCKING SHOTTTTT NO FUCKING SHOT TSUKISHIMA KEI

[6:59 PM] sendaitsukki : I FOUND HER @ EVERYONE I FUCKING FOUND IT IT’S @/ynlovely !!!

“Uh oh,” Tsukki says under his breath, turning to look at you. You stare at him, a singular moment of silence between you before catastrophe.

Your phone starts to buzz incessantly, your notifications blowing up in a surge of sudden city-wide attention. You both stare at your phone screen, watching the notifications come in so fast that your phone starts to lump them all together.

15 New Notifications

16 New Notifications

17 New Notifications

99+ New Notifications

You stare at it, watching your phone glitch and struggle, and all you can do is laugh.

“Are you… Are you stupid?”

“I think so,” He says immediately, nodding beside you. “I definitely think that’s possible.”

A text notification stands out over the rest, its ding different than the others.

[7:01 PM]

Kiyoko: im going to assume your sudden lack of response means that youre fucking that man right now.

Your eyes go wide, and you drop your phone on your face in your haste to hide the screen. Tsukki coughs next to you, and you spot the telltale burn of embarrassment on his face as he turns away.

“ Fucking bitch ,” You mumble, snatching your phone up and rolling onto your side to hide from him.

[7:01 PM]

You: you fkin gbtich

Kiyoko: oh, did he see???

Kiyoko: oops :)) 

You hear snickering behind you, and you turn to find Tsukki peering over your shoulder at the texts. You gasp, and he reaches over to pluck the phone away from you.

“What do we have here?” He asks, standing from your bed and taking three giant strides to get away from you.

“ Tsukki! ” You roll off clumsily, chasing after him in a panic. “Don’t read those-”

“ ‘You need to kiss him for real ’,” He reads aloud, sidestepping you as you chase him all around your shoebox of an apartment. “‘ I saw the pics of him kissing you out front, that shit was pathetic- ’ What the fuck?” He stops, lifting the phone over his head to read it again. “I’m not pathetic -”

“Give me-” You jump, knocking the phone from his hand and onto the couch. “-my phone, you fuck.” You retrieve it, glaring up at him. “Those are private-”

“Was it really pathetic?” He asks, entirely caught up in this. “I thought it was fine.”

You roll your eyes, going into your notification settings and muting everything related to Twitter. “It was fine.”

He just pulls his phone out, and you catch him scrolling.

He’d searched for photos of the kiss.

“You’re joking,” You say, dropping down onto the couch and shaking your head. “It was fine , Tsukki.”

He just hums, unconvinced, and throws himself down, all but sitting on you. “Look at this.” He shows you a photo, zoomed in to where his lips barely touch your face. “That’s pretty bad.”

It is pretty bad.

You purse your lips, hiding your laugh when you see how he scowls down at his screen. “I’m sure we’ll get better at it.”

He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the photo. And then he locks his phone, tossing it down next to him.

“I thought it’d be easier than this.”

“I told you it wouldn’t be,” You say, smiling pitifully. “Regret anything yet?”

He snorts, shaking his head and combing his fingers through his wet hair. “Unfortunately, it looks you’re stuck with me. I talked to Management after practice.”

You shift, your interest piqued. “And?”

“They approved.” He throws you a half-laugh. “Obviously.”

“Do they know it’s fake?”

“Oh, please-” He waves your question away. “The whole team knows it’s fake. I was getting my ass handed to me 24 hours ago.”

You wring your hands together nervously. “And they’re all cool with it?”

“They like you more than they like me.”

“I barely know them.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Trust me, they want this to work just as much as we do. There’s too much riding on this.”

You nod, feeling a bit of relief seep into you. If the Frogs are on board with this, it can’t be a terrible idea, right?

“Anything they need me to do in particular?”

He shoots you a grin. “Make me a decent person?”

You grimace. “Bit above my pay-grade.”

He rolls his eyes. “They want me to have a social media presence. Pictures, tweets, teasing comments – that kinda thing.”

You blink. “So, earlier-”

“Come on,” He levels you with a deadpan stare. “You really think I’m stupid?”

“Extremely, yes.”

Tsukki just rolls his eyes, snatching his phone up and laying his body across yours.

“Smile, baby .” 

You spend an hour getting manhandled into different angles and positions, your debut as Tsukishima Kei’s girlfriend consisting of poorly shot selfies and a head of blond hair in your face.

“Go home , Tsukki,” You finally say, shoving him off of you and wiping your cheek where he’d just licked you like a freak. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

He just laughs, scrolling through his cursed camera roll. He picks one out from the collection of blurred shots and ugly laughing.

“What about this one?”

It’s one of Tsukki biting your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth opens over your face, teeth clamped down on your cheek. You’ve got one hand curled into his hair, the other gripping the side of his neck as you try to shove him off of you, but it’s obvious you’re mid-laughter.

You stare down at it, hating that it’s perfect.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” 

Tsukki snickers, sending it to you. “You post it. It’s weird if I do it.”

You roll your eyes, opening Twitter and ignoring the million notifications in order to type a simple tweet with the photo attached.

[8:22 PM] ynlovely : freak. [photo attached]

It’s met with instant engagement, but Tsukki only adds to it, retweeting it just a minute later with his own comment.

[8:23 PM] tsukei : i got that dog in me

He’s out of your apartment before he has time to apologize, but – somehow – the headlines are faster.

Sendai Frogs Middle Blocker Tsukishima Kei Dating Longtime Friend: Confirmed

–

Despite the rocky start, things become surprisingly easy over the course of the next week.

The topic of kissing doesn’t come up again, but you find Tsukki making a habit of pecking you quickly on the cheek whenever you part ways, one hand in yours and the other on your waist. You follow his lead, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down to your height when you want to plant a kiss on his face, laughter shared between you when you find new and strange places to put it. One on the bridge of his nose, another on his jawline just under his ear.

One accidentally smacked against the corner of his mouth in your rush to get to class on Friday morning.

A photo of Tsukki crouching against the wall of your department had circulated Twitter only minutes after that, his face hidden in his hands but ears clearly burning a beautifully bright, summery red. 

You hadn’t realized it then – that one accidental moment could call into question the validity of your relationship with Tsukishima Kei.

–

Your eyes scan over the most recent tweets under the ‘ #tsukkiyn ’ tag as you sit in a cafe on Friday afternoon, a strange dread settling deep in your gut.

Everything before – the excited commentary and overwhelming chaos related to the announcement of your relationship – had been due to the novelty of it all. The newness of Tsukishima as a taken man.

But this photo, where it’s apparent that Tsukki is flustered and unfamiliar with you in a romantic capacity, brings to attention a lot of the assumed details of your relationship.

You skim the tweets that address the issue, Tsukishima fans and haters alike all asking the same questions.

Why would he be so caught off guard by a simple gesture of affection? Something that can’t even be considered a kiss?

Isn’t it the case that you two had been dating for a while in secret and are only now confirming the relationship publicly? 

Is it a bit suspicious that the announcement of a relationship had comes only hours after a series of reputation-ruining headlines for the Sendai Frogs’ most promising rookie?

And there, posted only mere minutes ago, is someone who’d half-guessed at the truth.

[12:20 PM] numberonekei : lol the frogs probably paid her to be his fake gf to make him seem more likeable. not like shes actually his type.

You lock your phone, throwing it in your bag with a sigh and reaching for your coffee.

Nariko from Sendai Sports is sitting only a table away. She’d been with you almost all week, and you’d come to find some strange comfort in her presence – she’s proven herself to be a normal human being just doing her job.

Even now, she looks up from some shots on her camera when you sigh, and you feel her looking you over.

“Rough day?”

You smile wryly, pulling some books out to get work done. “Just glad it’s almost the weekend.”

“That’s a vague answer if I’ve ever heard one.”

You laugh. “Any weekend plans?”

She waves her camera at you in explanation, and you nod with a hum of understanding. She eyes you just a moment longer before returning to her shots. 

“I’ve been curating only the best photos of you, if that makes your day any less bad.”

You snort into your coffee. “It does, thank you.” And then you swallow, figuring it wouldn’t be too much detail to mention some things to her. “Just getting used to it all. The attention.”

“People kind of suck, huh?”

“Kind of,” You agree, staring down at your textbook without really seeing it. And then you blink, shaking yourself out of it. “It’s fine. I’ll feel better once he gets here.”

She looks up at you again, and you find minor surprise in her expression. “Is he really that good of a boyfriend? He’s kind of…”

“An asshole?” You smile, enjoying the breath of laughter she lets out. “He’s… hard to explain. You gotta think about how this might all feel for him, too, I guess.” There’s a moment of silence, one where she looks like she might understand what you’re saying, but it’s interrupted by a quiet knock on the cafe window.

You look up, finding Tadashi and Kiyoko, both of them gesturing for you to join them. You furrow a brow, reaching over for your bag, but there’s a hand there already.

“I texted you, loser,” Tsukki says, opening your bag and closing your textbook. “What’re you dissociating about?”

He clearly had not seen Nariko sitting fifteen feet away.

You shake your head, helping him collect your things and hoping she views your dynamic as one of playful banter. “Nothing, you ass. It’s just been a long morning.”

Tsukki crouches next you then, taking your face in one hand and forcing you to look at him. “Yeah, you look like shit.”

“Thank you. I do try.”

He only stares, scanning your face. “What happened?” It’s less of a question and more of a demand.

“Nothing, Tsukki,” You say, trying to shake him off. “Let’s just go.” 

But he’s reaching for your phone, unlocking it before you can stop him.

“Tsukki, don’t-”

“What’s…” He stares down at your Twitter feed, at the tweet you’d last read. And then he rolls his eyes, sighing heatedly and throwing your phone back in your bag. “I fucking hate the internet. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You frown slightly. That person had guessed at your fake relationship, but Tsukki’s denying it while thinking this conversation is private. Why?

He mumbles to himself as he finishes packing your bag. “ What would anyone know what my type is? ‘s bullshit .”

Oh. He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Just forget it, Tsukki,” You say, leaning forward and pressing your lips to the corner of his eyebrow. “I’m not that upset about it.”

“You clearly are,” He snaps. “I’m gonna start kicking people’s asses if they say shit to you.”

You roll your eyes, taking his hand and standing when he offers it to you. “No, you’re not. I’ll kick your ass if you try it.”

He just shrugs. “I’m just saying – teaching by example isn’t a bad idea.”

“Your stupidity amazes me sometimes,” You say, and then you turn to Nariko. “Have a good weekend.”

“I hope your day gets better,” She says, smiling kindly and avoiding eye contact with Tsukki.

He waits until you’re outside to awkwardly mumble, “Was she there the whole time?”

“Yes, she was. You’re just an idiot.”

“Who’s an idiot?” Kiyoko asks as you approach. When you gesture up at Tsukki, she smiles plainly. “Well, lucky for us, he’s just a dumb athlete and not a rocket scientist.”

Yamaguchi laughs a little too loud and is forced to run back to Tsukki’s car with the blond on his heels.

–

“So… Tsukki won’t tell me anything about how things are going with you two…” Yamaguchi leans in close to you. The Frogs have a home game on Sunday, so you sit with him and Kiyoko in the stands at their gym, half-watching their two-hour practice as you work on some assignments. 

You turn to the freckled boy now, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay…?”

He smiles, and you catch Kiyoko snickering to herself on his other side. She meets your eye and shrugs.

“Social media can only say so much.”

Yamaguchi nods, his smile conspiratorial. “A little hug here, a little kiss on the cheek there…”

“That’s about it, Tadashi,” You say slowly. His grin widens.

“Yeah? Nothing else?” When you don’t respond, he and Kiyoko start to nudge each other. “Nothing about someone’s virginity?” 

You gasp, flushing hard. It hadn’t come up again all week, and you’d nearly forgotten about it. 

“What the- fuck -” You shut your notebook and reach around Yamaguchi to smack Kiyoko with it. “You were not supposed to tell anyone!”

Kiyoko laughs as you hit her repeatedly. The ruckus catches the attention of some of the players below as they take a water break, and you’re met with Tsukki’s questioning stare, Koganegawa and Kyoutani on either side of him with bemused smiles. You wave lamely at them, aiming one last smack at your giggling friends before putting your notebook down.

“I needed someone else to join me in my exasperation,” Kiyoko says, leaning close and creating a secretive huddle for the three of you to whisper. “You two were acting weird and it had only been, like, 10 hours of dating.”

“It was just a fluke!” You whisper-yell, boxing Yamaguchi in as you argue. “It’s not exactly a smooth transition from 15 years of friendship into something romantic.”

“Something romantic , huh?” Yamaguchi throws a traitorous arm over your shoulder. “Do tell, Y/n.”

“You know what I mean. It was a rocky start, and there may or may not have been some oversharing along the way.” Your face is still hot from having to explain, but you want to cut these two off before they can start concocting stupid ideas.

“Yeah, well, you’re not out of the woods yet,” Kiyoko says, her grin a little evil. “I’ve seen what people are saying today – they’re not exactly convinced that you two are the Hallmark movie you need to be.”

You grimace. “What do you want me to do? We’re moving at a decent pace, I think.”

“ Decent pace ?” Yamaguchi snickers. “You kiss Tsukki the way I kiss my grandma.”

“I don’t have time to unpack that sentence, Tadashi,” You joke, wishing this conversation could end already. “But-” You sigh in frustration. “Fine. I see what you’re both saying. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

“It’s not like you need to give him a lap dance, Y/n,” He says. “But something needs to change before the game.” When you just stare at him blankly, he and Kiyoko share a look of disbelief. “You don’t think the whole world’s gonna be watching you that day?”

You deflate. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“What if they win, huh?” Kiyoko prompts. “You gonna give him a high-five, Y/n?”

Yamaguchi nods. “You at least have to kiss him. And if you’re really committed to this-” He glances over your head, eyes going wide as he leans in quickly to whisper in your ear. “- you’re gonna have to make it good. You know sweet, innocent girls aren’t Tsukki’s type .”

You blanche, remembering the joking way that Tsukki had hinted at cute girls not being able to ‘ handle ’ him.

“What are you three scheming about over here?”

You jump, turning quickly to see Tsukki standing over you, hand on hip and eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

You swallow, shaking your head. “Nothing… Nothing-” You blink, clearing your head. “Practice done?”

He nods, hoisting his gym bag high on his shoulder. “Are we still drinking tonight?”

“Drinking?” You turn to look at your friends. “Where?”

Yamaguchi smiles and lifts his bag, and you realize only now that there’s a quiet clink every time he jostles it.

“Your place.”

–

“Oh. I brought this over.” 

Tsukki reaches into his bag, extracting a bright green Frogs jersey and tossing it at you. You catch it without looking, tipping another shot back into your mouth. 

The four of you are sitting on the floor around your coffee table, some bottles of liquor and your many preferred mixers strewn on the table with the shot glasses and three bowls of varied snacks. A random movie plays on your TV, the volume low and the plot serving as nothing more than background noise.

You squint at the shirt in your hand, his last name stretched in capital letters across the back. The letters double up and hover a little, your vision not what it should be right now.

“Your… jersey?”

“For Sunday,” He says with no other explanation, just reaching over the table to pour a shot of rum and a splash of Coke into his cup. It spills over the rim a little, and he has to shake his head to clear it as he’s putting the bottle down.

Your heart jumps a little, the reminder of Sunday bringing back Yamaguchi’s words.

‘You’re gonna have to make it good. ’

You glance at Yamaguchi now, seeing that he’s eyeing you with mischief. When he sees the panic tinging your expression, he grins.

“Yeah, Y/n ,” He says, giggling drunkenly. “You gotta look the part so people don’t say you’re not his real girlfriend.” He and Kiyoko lean heavy on each other, and he mumbles to her in a voice that’s a lot louder than he realizes. “ Gotta act the part, too. ”

You glance at Tsukki, finding him staring at the pair over the top of his glasses, his cup halfway to his mouth. His eyes narrow in suspicion at his roommate.

“ Yamaguchi …” He mutters. It’s suspicious, you realize – a warning. You glance between them, wondering what’s happened.

Yamaguchi catches you, his smile wicked. “I think he’s mad at me, Y/n.” He tilts his head toward, his whisper deliberately loud this time. “It’s just that he’s been so blushy lately. I’m dying to know why.”

“Soon enough, you’ll just be dying,” Tsukki says, downing his drink. 

Your head spins a little as you look around. Kiyoko and Yamaguchi are both red in the face, the vodka having gotten to them almost an hour ago. Tsukki, too, is undoubtedly drunk – his eyes are heavily lidded, his blinks long and slow. And his fingers rest on the rug, just slightly over yours.

That’s one thing about Tsukishima Kei that’s just so hard to believe – he gets touchy when he drinks. And even if his version of touchy is nothing more than fingertips brushing over the back of your hand every few minutes, it’s touchy nonetheless.

Unfortunately, you get touchy when you drink, too.

And it’s just so truly unfortunate, because your version of touchy isn’t exactly his version of touchy.

“Tsukki,” You start, his name heavy in your mouth. “Do you plan on winning the game on Sunday?”

His golden eyes cut to yours, narrowing with unspoken questions. “That’s usually the goal, yeah.”

You swallow, your heart pounding a little louder than usual. Your drunken mind had really thought he might say no.

“Why?” He asks, but you don’t hear him.

You just sit up on your knees, struggling to put your drink on the table before scooting close to him. You hear Kiyoko gasp behind you, she and Yamaguchi starting to smack each other’s arms when you reach out and take the front of Tsukki’s shirt with both hands.

His eyes widen, and he allows himself to be dragged toward you. “What-Y/n-”

You lean forward, stopping just shy of his mouth and sighing roughly. His breath catches in his throat, and you smell the rum on his tongue.

“Be quiet, Tsukki. For once.”

You can confidently say you’ve never tasted rum quite like this.

It’s quick, but the jolt to your system is sharp, a live wire in your veins.

You pull away with the hint of a gasp, your pulse drumming in your ears. Tsukki stares with wide eyes and parted lips. You think you hear Yamaguchi mumble ‘ Holy shit’ to Kiyoko, but you can’t spare any attention for it.

Tsukki’s eyes flick between yours and then back down to your mouth, and the drumming in your ears skips a few beats.

He leans in before you can pull away.

This kiss is as short as the last, but he lingers this time, alcohol tainting the air that hovers between your lips. You gather the courage to try again before he does, and it’ll only be later that you realize how relieved you are that he tangles his fingers in your hair and kisses you until his courage finds him, too.

His lips are softer than you’d expected – rough and assured, just like everything else about him, but soft nonetheless. You find yourself unshakeably curious to discover if they’re still as soft after just one more kiss. Over and over again, curiosity on repeat. Needing to keep testing it, because there’s an almost desperate need to keep finding out.

Just one more, you think, again and again. One more, and then you’ll stop. 

His other hand finds your thigh, palm searing hot against your skin, and his tongue brushes against your bottom lip just as his fingers slide accidentally under the hem of your shorts. Your heart jumps, and your teeth catch ever so softly on his lip. A sound escapes from deep in his throat, one that sounds suspiciously like a groan.

What an addicting little sound it turns out to be.

Just as Tsukki’s fingertips are digging into the plush skin of your thighs, Yamaguchi clears his throat loudly behind you. Kiyoko’s got her hand on your shoulder, pulling you away.

“Y/n,” She says gently, tugging on your sleeve.

You gasp, realizing what’s happened and reeling back quickly. Tsukki’s fingers tighten in your hair for just a second, but he lets you go almost immediately, his eyes wide as he comes to his senses, too.

“What-” He breathes, gaze flicking in a panic between your lips and your eyes. You stare back, your heart pounding in your ears and your head spinning like a carousel. “What was that for?”

You just scan him, watching as a blush blossoms furiously across his cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You blink, your voice muffled in your ear when you respond.

“Just practicing. For Sunday.”

And then you whirl around, your back pressed against the bottom of the couch as you stare emptily at the TV. Yamaguchi snatches the remote from the floor and boosts the volume until there’s no way you and Tsukki can have a conversation about this.

Kiyoko and Yamaguchi start to whisper furiously to each other after a few minutes, but you and Tsukki stay silent until it gets late enough that you all fall asleep.

–

You wake sometime around 3am, shifting and covering your eyes with a quiet groan when you realize the TV’s still on. The room is completely dark otherwise, so you have to search clumsily around the floor for the remote, still tired but thankfully not drunk anymore. 

You only realize Tsukki’s awake and sitting on the couch when you see that the remote is in his hand. His eyes are trained on the screen, unseeing, and he’s got his cup in his other hand. He flicks his gaze down to yours when he senses you looking at him.

“Too bright?” He mumbles, quiet enough not to wake your friends, Kiyoko sleeping on the armchair and Yamaguchi passed out on the rug. You shake your head, joining him on the couch and shivering slightly from the running air conditioner.

“Body heat,” You say plainly, and he rolls his eyes but allows you to press your side against his regardless. “You’re gonna be too hungover for practice tomorrow if you keep drinking.” You gesture to the cup in his hand, watching a slow smirk stretch across his face.

“What’s wrong?” He teases, setting both the cup and the remote on the table in favor of draping his arm around your shoulders with an mocking lift of his eyebrows. “Worried I won’t do well on Sunday? You must really want to kiss me.”

You don’t bother hiding the flush of your cheeks in the dark, too busy rolling your eyes. “You recovered quickly, Tsukishima,” You say, your tone just as airy and full of amusement when his eyes light up a little at the use of his name. “Alcohol got you feeling confident?”

“It had you feeling confident,” He counters, smirk deepening when he sees the embarrassment cross your expression. And then he leans into you, nose brushing against yours and breath fanning across your lips when he whispers to you.

You only realize he’s actually about to kiss you when his gaze drops to your mouth.

“ My turn .”

You suck in a surprised breath, unsure what to do with the excited flutter of your heart when his lips turn out to be just as soft as they were before. Your fingers slide into the hair at the base of his neck, and you shiver when his hand finds your waist, his palm heated even through your shirt.

“Still cold?” He whispers against your lips, angling his head and smiling when you lean into him. You shake your head, because you’re suddenly so, so warm, but then you realize his breath doesn’t smell like rum anymore.

“You were drinking water?” You ask, a flash of heat spreading from the crown of your head down to your toes when he just kisses you again with an amused hum.

“Did you really think I would risk being hungover tomorrow?”

You breathe unsteadily, goosebumps spreading all over your skin when he drops his head and brushes his lips against a spot just under your ear. “Why are you kissing me, Tsukki? You’re sober.”

His breath is warm when it fans out over your throat, his voice low in your ear and muffled against your skin. “ So are you. ”

Your stomach flips. He’s right.

“But I wasn’t the first time.” You lift your brows, mustering as much confidence as you can. “What’s your excuse? You wanna kiss me that bad, Tsukki?”

He lifts his head then, meeting your eyes evenly as a knowing look fills his expression.

“Just practicing, of course – for Sunday.”

The implication brings you pause, and then you laugh, covering your mouth so as to not wake your friends up. Tsukki watches you do it, a matching smile spreading across his lips.

It’s relieving, being able to laugh about this with him.

After an entire week of moments belonging to the public – moments that have meant too much, with too many eyes on them and too much on the line to risk messing them up – this is one moment that belongs only to you and him. One moment when you don’t have to think so hard.

Maybe that’s been the issue all along.

“Tsukki…” You start, meeting his eyes with an idea growing in your head. He hums, watching you closely. “What if we just… stop thinking so much about this?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only offering a long, slow blink. And then he tilts his head, the conspiratorial look in his eye all too enticing. You’ve been seeing that look your whole life.

“You wanna have some fun, Y/n?”

Maybe you’re just as much trouble as he is.

“I could be into that.”

–

It turns out that ‘ having fun ’ looks a lot like you sitting in the packed stands on Sunday afternoon, wearing the name TSUKISHIMA on your back and hiding your phone from your friends as you text him. Both teams are down below doing their pre-game stretches, and you wait for Tsukki to be near his bag pressing send .

You don’t hear the quiet ding from where you sit, but you see his blond head swivel around at the sound. He extracts the phone from his bag, and you watch him read the messages.

[1:21 PM]

You: in case you forgot

You: winning this game comes with the added bonus of me kissing the soul out of your body

You: in front of all these people

You catch the smile that creeps out just before he smothers it, and your own smile is hidden behind your hand. He looks around, searching the bleachers until he finds you. He shakes his head at you, typing rapidly and sending his response just as Koganegawa’s approaching him.

[1:24 PM]

Tsukki: dont threaten me with a good time, you freaky little dementor

Tsukki: you WILL be paying up when i make the winning point

You snort into your hand, locking your phone and waving off Yamaguchi and Kiyoko when they give you matching looks of interest. The intro commentary starts shortly after, with the teams greeting each other through the net. The game starts promptly at 1:30 PM.

True to his word, Tsukishima Kei makes the winning point at 2:58 PM. 

You watch in disbelief as his block sends the ball back over the net, spinning quickly and slamming against the floor between two players on the other team. You’re left stunned in your seat as everyone jumps up, the name on your back screamed across the entire stadium as Frogs fans celebrate yet another win at the hands of their star rookie.

Kiyoko grabs you and hauls you to your feet, and you can’t help the laughter that fills your body as you cheer alongside her.

By the time you find him in the mass of his teammates, Tsukki’s already looking right at you. His teammates all jump around him, shoving and hugging and clapping him on the back. 

But all he does is lift his arm, a single finger pointed right at you.

Yamaguchi makes a noise of surprise, and Kiyoko turns to you with a shocked smile.

“You’re not actually…?”

Tsukki crooks his finger twice, beckoning you to him with a satisfied grin.

'Show them who you are.'

Kyoutani sees you next, his smile widening as he cups his hands around his mouth and yells, in that deep baritone that shakes the room-

“ Kiss! ” 

Your laughter turns giddy, and you dart out into the aisle to get to the stairs. You take them two at a time, his oversized jersey fluttering behind you as you run down to the court. You hear the whispers and whooping all around you as the fans realize where you are and where you’re headed, but you ignore them in favor of meeting Tsukki halfway across the court.

The smile he gives you is that wild, genuine one that reminds you of your childhood – of playground sand boxes and toy dinosaurs, of excited storytelling and playing volleyball with Akiteru in their backyard.

Of a Tsukishima Kei who would pretend he knew nothing about why the class bully was suddenly sporting a bloody nose after making fun of your body – one who would pretend he couldn’t hear you when you’d say you weren’t hungry, only shoving a spoonful of his lunch in your mouth with that smile that would make you forget why you were crying in the first place.

That’s the Tsukishima Kei that picks you up now and spins you around like you weigh nothing, his arms wrapping around you while you tangle your fingers into his hair and kiss him like your life depends on it. He tastes like salt, and he breathes a laugh past your lips when the crowd starts to follow Kyoutani’s lead, the room erupting in cheers and the thunderous chant of ‘ Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! ’. 

“ Congratulations, ” You whisper against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. A shiver runs down your spine when he holds you there, his grip on your hips and thighs possessive and his body flush against yours. 

You wonder if maybe he’d seen his life in your smile, too.

“ You gonna greet me like this at every game? ” He asks between kisses, the chanting and cheering becoming nearly overwhelming. 

“ Only if you win, ” You laugh, barely able to hear the response he gives you even in your little pocket of solitude.

“ Guess I should start training for Nationals.”

You’d forgotten how easy it is to have fun with him.

[morverenmaybewrites]

The Pizza Delivery Girl's Survival Guide to Gotham City Update

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Newest chapter

AO3 Link

Summary:

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn.

People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving.

Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank?

Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread?

Because let's face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

Chapter Preview:

You paused on the bridge that hung high above the Burrow, and for the first time in your life, you felt a terror was so great that it made your throat close.

Gotham City had never looked so beautiful. From such a height, the burning neon lights looked like stars. 

But above your head, the sky looked pitch black. It made you think of the bodies that would sometimes wash up on Gotham Bay’s shores, black and bloated with rot. It made you think of  the shadows of inmates in the asylum, their voices like the skittering of insects, rising and falling as you passed them by.

It made you think of the night Timothy Young died, and you wondered that if, back then, there had been light enough that he saw the shadow of a monster fall over him. 

You wondered if he had time to understand what was happening, before he started against the concrete below. And then decided decided that it didn’t matter: you would understand If Francine Langstrom came for you, you would know. 

You would understand what was happening to you before you hit the ground. 

Your skull splitting open, the pink-grey ropes of your brain scattering on the concrete. And the thousand pictures that follow. Your death turned into a spectacle and a profit.

Just like Tim Young’s.

The thought made you freeze. You were standing in front of one of the many wooden bridges that connected the rooftops of abandoned buildings. The Burrow’s infamous floating night market. Set up by dusk and torn down by dawn, only to rise up again the next night, the floating night market was one of the Burrow’s main attractions. A bustling collection of kiosks made out of cheap plywood and tarpaulin, it was said that you could find anything there, so long as you didn’t ask too many questions: cheap phones, likely stolen from someone off the street, fake licenses, a sample of Bane’s Venom for impatient bodybuilders. It was set high up in the air, amidst the rooftops of many abandoned buildings, connected by a series of rickety wooden bridges.

But now the rooftops were empty. The bridges were falling apart, its wooden planks dangling precariously from their ropes. The empty kiosks had been left to rot in the constant rain. You could even see some of the abandoned merchandise, left behind  in people’s haste to pack up: an old, broken phone, children’s toys hanging forlornly on strings, obviously meant to be prizes in a game, now swelling with rainwater. Mold grew on their cotton bodies like new fur. 

Timothy Young’s death had transformed the Burrows’ floating night market into a ghost town. The thought made you feel a little lonely, picking through the bones of a dead market, looking to find a monster. 

Francine, The voice in your head sounded like Professor Langstrom’s. Her name is Francine Langstrom. 

The buzz of static cut through your thoughts as cleanly as a falling blade. And then Jason’s voice was in your ear.

“Last chance to back out of this.” 

His voice was rough, even taking into account the poor connection and the voice modulators he used. Maybe he was scared, too. The thought eased you somewhat, to know that you were not alone. 

Even through the poor connection, you could hear the strain in his voice. You cast a glance at the direction where he was supposed to be, tried to look for even a hint of him: the faint glow of his helmet, the hulking figure of his silhouette. But you found no sign of him. Still, knowing that he was there made you feel better. 

You raised a hand and hoped that he would not see the way your fingers trembled.  

And waved. 

Read more on AO3

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 62]

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AO3 Link

-

Nia and Tobias get some time to relax and check out Kaleido Bay before solidifying their plans to find Xerneas.

“Oh! Tobias, look at these!”

Nia knows this is the fifth time today she’s called him to her side with the same level of excitement, but she can’t help it! Kaleido Bay is just made for overeager tourists like herself.

Besides, Tobias doesn’t seem to mind her enthusiasm. He looks up from the other side of the merchant stall, dry amusement on his face, and wordlessly skirts around other tourists browsing the merchant’s wares to reach her side.

“What did you find now?”

Nia points out her newest marvel: little sculptures crafted out of shells and stones and chunks of coral. They’re lined up across the counter, depicting…Pokemon? Nia thinks they’re supposed to be Pokemon. They’re kind of silly-looking, though, with proportions that even Nia can tell are way off.

They remind her of something she’s seen in the human world, when her and her family visited the beach and perused the endless little shops made specifically for tourists. Shells and rocks and googly-eyes haphazardly glued together to form palm-sized sea turtles and fish.

Tobias cracks a smile, picking up what Nia thinks is supposed to be a pichu. “Didn’t know there was a water type pichu out there.”

“Would that make it a beach-u?”

Tobias barks a laugh.

Nia beams, pleased with her accomplishment. Her eyes linger on her partner, trying to gauge how he’s feeling as he looks through more of the silly figurines.

It’s been nearly two days since their fight with Dismas. Nia’s ribs are finally well enough to walk around—sore, with stabs of pain if she laughs or inhales too deeply, but manageable—so they’d decided to browse the tourist shops of Kaleido Bay before heading back to Will’s settlement. According to Tobias, a merchant cart willing to take passengers is scheduled to leave town in the early afternoon, so they should be able to hitch a ride with them then.

Tobias seems to be doing as well as he can be, considering the circumstances. Nia’s relieved by that. Her heart still hurts every time she remembers his cries the other night, when he wailed into her shoulder and grieved all that he had lost.

“I should’ve died with her. I couldn’t even avenge them! What good am I if I can’t even do that?”

Nia had fought off a burst of panic at those words, staying wide awake even when Tobias had eventually drifted off. She’d held him close with a lump in her throat and frantically wondered if she needed to do something more drastic to keep him safe from himself.

The next day he’d seemed more lost than actively interested in harming himself, but she still felt herself tense every time he drifted off into thought, eyes glassy and brow furrowed, or when he had to leave the room for a few minutes.

He’s still quieter than usual, and that makes her worry, but Nia also can’t help thinking some part of him seems…lighter, almost. Like a weight she’d never noticed him carrying has finally been lifted away.

Even the way Tobias is picking through the merchant’s goods is different. He’s eyeing them with actual interest, which she usually wouldn’t expect from him. She can’t tell if the change is just him trying to distract himself, or if he’s actually letting himself relax for once. Letting himself take in the world around them rather than charging after Team Zenith with no allowance for trivial things.

Maybe Nia is just overly optimistic, but she can’t help hoping something good came from Tobias meeting Dismas and learning the truth.

Tobias snorts, catching Nia’s attention again.

“Look. It’s the jerk from the prison.”

Nia looks at the little shell creature in his hands: a grumpy bipedal sea turtle, with a rocky shell. A carracosta, Nia knows now. Its eyes are mismatched, one higher than the other, giving it a ridiculous expression.

Nia laughs, then winces when the action sends a bolt of pain through her ribs. Tobias winces too, looking torn between apology and being just as smug about making her laugh as she was for him.

“I think I prefer this version,” Nia says, taking the little figure to turn it over in her hands.

It’s cute. Much cuter than the real version they’d met yesterday, at least.

They’d been expecting a visit from the officials at the prison after everything that went down, but Nia still hadn’t been prepared for the carracosta who was sent to inform them of the aftermath of Dismas’ escape and subsequent recapture.

The carracosta did confirm right away that Dismas was safely secured and had been assigned a constant guard for his transfer to an even higher security prison in Ghatha. After his little stunt with the shackles here in Kaleido, they aren’t taking the risk of leaving him alone before his trial.

Tobias’ relief had been palpable after that piece of news, his tight shoulders slumping.

Unfortunately, the agent’s tone had hardened immediately after.

—————————————————

“I do have a matter of security to discuss with you both.”

Nia sends a nervous glance Tobias’ way. He’s holding a poker face better than she is, but she can see the tension hidden in his spine.

The carracosta lets that heavy sentence sit for a moment. Then he continues. “D22 was a high-security prisoner. A D-rank team with no official connection should not have had the clearance to speak with him.”

Nia cringes. They’re not just in trouble, but big trouble. She’d half-expected them to be, with how they’d used Rosalind’s connections to blackmail their way into Dismas’ cell, but…

Well, this is coming back to bite them much sooner than she’d feared it would. Guilt and fear eats at her in equal measure, but she keeps her mouth shut, staring down at her lap.

She doesn’t want them to get in trouble with the law, but she also doesn’t want them to get in trouble with Rosalind. Nia doesn’t want to imagine what the hatterene would do if they sold her out.

Nia half-expects Tobias to lie and get them out of this, but he also stays silent, apparently deciding that such a game would be too dangerous with the authoritative carracosta.

The atmosphere in the room is stifling. Choking. Nia thinks she’s sweating under her fur. Can she sweat? She’s wondered about this before. She’s basically a dog, so she thinks she just sweats through her paws and—

The carracosta grunts. “I see you two are going to be just as stubborn as Jude.”

Jude. The drednaw they blackmailed to let them into the prison. Oh, jeez. What happens if no one talks? They don’t torture people for stuff like this, right? Do they throw them in jail?

Just as panic starts to bloom in earnest in Nia’s chest, the carracosta sighs.

“Fine. We aren’t going to push for a statement that would likely just be a lie.”

While the tone isn’t scolding, per se, and the words aren’t outright condemnation, the meaning is clear.

They messed up. They did something that bent the rules, at best, and the officer in front of them is well aware of that. Even if he can’t accuse them outright.

Nia barely resists looking at Tobias again, swallowing hard and keeping her eyes down.

She can feel the burn of the carracosta’s accusing stare. “Considering you weren’t the direct cause of D22’s escape attempt and you did recapture him, we’ll be lenient this time. Tapu knows he would’ve done more damage without your intervention.”

Nia holds her breath.

“I’ll be letting your guildmaster know to keep an eye on you two for suspicious activity, but we won’t actively restrict you from missions. Consider this strike one on Team Scarlet’s record.”

Nia finally lifts her head to peek at the carracosta, unsure how to feel. Part of her didn’t even think they could get a mark on their record like that. Could their Seeker status be revoked entirely if they got too many?

That thought carves a pit of shame in her stomach. They never should’ve worked with Rosalind in the first place. And they definitely shouldn’t have done something as low as blackmailing Jude, no matter what he might’ve done to get in Rosalind’s books.

Is he going to be okay? What if he gets fired from the prison for this?

Nia swallows back tears.

They might be the reason someone loses their job. And they’re going to have a mark on their record. That means August will know about it, right? She can already imagine the shame of talking to their guildmaster with that weight hanging over their head.

Tobias, on the other hand, seems relieved at the sentencing, apparently more aware than Nia of exactly how badly this could’ve gone. He nods. “Thank you.”

The carracosta doesn’t smile. He looks at the two of them for another moment, then simply turns to leave.

“W-Wait!” Nia says, unable to stop herself. She knows asking about Jude would be a stupid idea, and some cowardly part of her doesn’t really want to know. But there are two other Pokemon who have been on her mind ever since waking up here in the clinic.

The carracosta stops.

“The guards. The ones who escorted us into the prison. Are they, um…okay?”

The carracosta looks back at her, something in his sharp expression finally softening. “Miroslav won’t be on duty for a long while, but he’ll live. Toko’s injuries were minimal. She asked that I thank you both for making sure the two of them made it out alive.”

Nia melts with relief. It’s so strong it almost overshadows the guilt she’d been wrestling with before. “Thank you.”

The carracosta leaves without another word.

Nia and Tobias wait another minute in heavy silence. Finally, when they’re both convinced the carracosta is really gone, they exhale.

“Well, that was terrifying,” Nia murmurs, sweeping her hands back over her ears.

Tobias makes a quiet sound of agreement, pinching at his eyes. He looks like he’s thinking hard about something, so Nia watches him and waits while her heart rate slows.

Sure enough, he eventually speaks up. “We shouldn’t take any more missions from Rosalind. At least for a while.”

Nia straightens, surprise clear in her voice. “Really?”

Tobias had never flinched at the idea of working with Rosalind. Even after Asra, when Nia thought it was too dangerous to keep pursuing her leads, he’d been adamant. She would’ve thought that after Dismas, after Rosalind’s lead pulling through more than ever before, he would be even more stubborn.

Tobias huffs a laugh. “I know. Just…”

It’s clear he doesn’t know how to articulate what he’s feeling. Likely wrestling with the fact that they’d almost died—again—as well as the more severe consequences they just barely sidestepped with the law.

Whatever made him change his mind, Nia isn’t going to argue. “I’m fine with that. That guy was almost as terrifying as Rosalind.”

Tobias makes a halfhearted attempt at a laugh.

———————————————————

Even now, surrounded by happy chatter and the tropical beauty of Kaleido Bay, that conversation weighs heavy as stone on Nia’s mind. She hates going against the rules, and she hates getting in trouble. She hates that they have a mark on their record now, and that they’ll have to face August’s disappointed gaze without being able to explain themselves. She hates that they’ll likely never know how their interference affected Jude. Grumpy as he was, she still didn’t want to get him in trouble.

They’re supposed to help people, not hurt them.

Nia sighs, wincing as the motion strains her ribs. Then she shakes her head to dispel the gloomy thoughts. They can’t do anything about it now. She’ll just have to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else in the future. Especially not for their own gain.

Nia and Tobias wander away from the craft merchant’s stall, strolling through the city and taking in the sights. The salty breeze is balanced out nicely by the midmorning sunshine, and the sky overhead is a deep blue that makes the surrounding ocean shimmer. The bright buildings and even brighter merchant stalls are eye-catching and cheery, making for the perfect distraction from anxious thoughts.

The Pokemon crowding past them are clearly in high spirits, too, chatting and laughing with one another as they shop. Families corral excited children who are grasping sweets in sticky paws, and friends nudge one another to point out their next destination. An adorable couple passes by them, linked arm in arm. Mid-conversation, the taller one dips to give the top of their partner’s head an affectionate nuzzle.

Nia smiles at the gesture, then looks at Tobias. To her surprise, he’s also watching the couple, brow furrowed. Nia tilts her head at him, and he quickly glances at her before looking away, face warming as he hurriedly points out the next stall.

It’s a familiar little shop, and Nia perks up. “Oh, the glassblowing shop! Can we look around for a bit? I didn’t really get the chance the other day.”

Tobias nods his agreement, and the two of them split up to peruse the wares carefully laid across the counter of the building’s wraparound stall.

Last time, a blue monkey Pokemon with long, curled hair atop her head had been behind the counter—a simipour, according to Tobias—but this time around the merchant is a stoic-looking fire type, though he too looks strikingly monkey-like. He’s orange like Tobias, with a long fire-tipped tail and intricate blue markings over his eyes. A monferno, Nia thinks.

Nia doesn’t pay him much mind, startled instead by the little blue monkey also flitting about behind the stand, pulling herself up to be able to see over the counter and talk to customers. She’s just a kid, clearly, but for a moment Nia feels a phantom pain on her upper arm, under where her scarf is tied. They’d fought a panpour once before—an outlaw—and for a moment seeing such similar features throws Nia for a loop.

But this panpour is much smaller, and the spitting image of the simipour Nia had spoken with days before. There’s none of the outlaw’s malice on her cheerful little face, and the blue of her fur is a darker hue than his.

Nia manages to pull her eyes away, instead focusing on the beautiful glassworks on the table in front of her, shining and sparkling in the sun. After a moment of hesitation, she dares to pick one up to see it more clearly.

It’s a Pokemon—a seahorse of some kind. Unlike the wonky proportions of the shell figurines they saw earlier, this statue is intentionally styled, the curves of it elegant and acting as a perfect balance to the sharp points of its frills.

Nia carefully puts the statue back, eyes scanning the pieces until she stops at one of the more abstract works. It’s the color that she notices first, a turquoise blue that matches Nia’s aura almost perfectly.

It’s shaped like a flame, or maybe a drop of water, with wisps of glass curving upwards and intertwining with one another. The thinner ends are almost transparent, and the thicker base has incredible depth, blue like springwater.

It’s gorgeous. Nia hesitates before picking it up in her hands, running a thumb over its smooth surface.

She really, really wants to buy it. Maybe she’s just a sucker for souvenirs, but it’s so well-crafted and it feels…personal, almost. Like it was made for her.

Nia examines the little price tag tied around it, frowning. She can afford it, surprisingly, but it would clear out her personal funds entirely. She doesn’t think she can justify spending that much. What if she needs that money later? Or what if Tobias needs it for something that his own funds or the team’s can’t cover?

Nia reluctantly puts the statue back down.

“Aw, I really like that one!”

Nia looks up, surprised to lock eyes with the little panpour. She has her arms crossed on the counter from the other side of the stall, a grin on her face.

“I helped Dad make that, y’know!” She adds, clearly proud.

Nia blinks, glancing over at the monferno. He’s on the other side of the stall and talking with Tobias, who actually seems to be responding willingly, if not a bit awkwardly. His arms are crossed over his chest but his expression is open and oddly attentive.

Man, Nia really wants to know what he could be talking about so happily with a stranger. Maybe he feels more comfortable because they’re both fire types?

But Nia has her own conversation partner.

She smiles at the little monkey. “It’s gorgeous. You did a great job on it!”

The panpour smiles wider, showing off sharp fangs. “I know! Is it just too expensive for you?”

Nia shrugs with a regretful smile. “A bit.”

The panpour doesn’t seem offended, thankfully, just nodding in response. “I’d ask Dad to give you a discount, but he’s real strict about that kind of stuff.”

“It’s a fair price,” a deeper voice calls, and both Nia and the panpour jump, looking over at the child’s father. The monferno is walking over to join their conversation, and he ruffles the poof of fur on the panpour’s head as she shrieks with laughter.

“I-It is!” Nia agrees. “I’m just a bit tight on money right now, unfortunately.”

Tobias trails around the stall after his fellow fire type, stopping at Nia’s side. He tilts his head, scanning the goods. “You wanted to buy something?”

Nia gestures at the blue flame-like statue with a smile. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Tobias picks it up, just as delicately as Nia had. “…It is. Good craftsmanship.”

“You didn’t answer before,” the monferno says gruffly, looking at Tobias. “You interested in glassblowing?”

To Nia’s surprise, Tobias hesitates. He glances at her, as if embarrassed, before nodding. “Couldn’t do it myself, but it’s impressive.”

“Why not?” the panpour chirps, pointing. “You’re a fire type. You have good hands for it.”

Tobias looks uncomfortable, shrugging. “Don’t have time to learn. I’m a Seeker.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be a Seeker forever!” the panpour says brightly.

The monferno grunts in agreement. “You don’t have to make a career of it, either. Let me know if you’re ever interested in learning and I can help you get started.”

Nia blinks, surprised by the generous offer.

Tobias looks equally thrown. “Really?”

The monferno shrugs. “Sure. Not many fire types ‘round here for me to pass the craft on to. Just don’t go stealing my customers.”

Tobias laughs at that. “Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

“It’s all practice.”

Tobias hums, staring down at the glass piece. “I’ll…think about it.”

Tobias ignores the surprise that Nia knows is written all over her face. He idly looks at the glass flame’s price tag himself before putting the piece back on the table. He glances at Nia. “You ready to go?”

Nia’s eyes linger on the statue, but she shakes her head and smiles. “Yeah. Let’s go before I make an impulsive purchase.”

The two of them say goodbye to the merchant and his daughter, trailing farther down the street.

As soon as they’re sucked back into the crowd, away from prying ears, Nia looks at Tobias. “I bet you’d be good at it, you know. If you tried it.”

Tobias snorts. “Glassblowing?”

“Yeah! You’re already good at guitar. Like that girl said, you have the build for it.”

Tobias’ mouth twists. “…Let’s save the world before we start looking for new hobbies.”

Nia wilts. He does have a point.

Tobias frowns, looking her over. “You okay? We can take a break.”

Oh. He must think she’s getting tired. He isn’t wrong, per se—the constant ache in Nia’s ribs and the tense way she has to hold herself IS exhausting—but that wasn’t what she’d been thinking about.

But if he doesn’t mind…

“Could we rest? Just for a minute.”

Tobias nods, looking around before leading them to a little island of shade in the sea of sun. It’s cast by a large bush of flowers, taller than they are, and the little wall containing the plant is the perfect size for them to sit on. Nia eases herself down with a relieved sigh.

Tobias stares at her, brow furrowed. “You’re supposed to tell me when you need a break.”

Nia gives him a smile. “I don’t need a break. It’s just nice.”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Well then tell me when it would be nice to have a break.”

Nia bites back a laugh. “Will do.”

Tobias nods, then leans against the wall as well, the two of them falling silent to people watch. Tobias fiddles absentmindedly with the satchel looped around his shoulder, sharp claws kneading the fabric like a cat. Adorable.

Minutes later, Tobias suddenly straightens up. “Hey, do you mind waiting here for a minute? I’m gonna, uh…go back and get that monferno’s name. Just in case.”

Nia blinks. “Oh! No, go ahead.”

Tobias nods, mumbling that he’ll be right back before slipping away into the crowd. Nia watches him go, relieved that he’s still thinking about the future and what might make him happy down the line. She’s been worried about that more than ever after his breakdown the other night.

Satisfied, Nia tilts her head back to close her eyes and enjoy the weather.

It doesn’t feel like long at all before Tobias returns, readjusting the satchel on his shoulder.

“Hey!” She greets. “Did you get his name?”

Tobias freezes. “Yeah. He’s, uh. Rico.”

Nia gives him a funny look. “You don’t sound super confident about that.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, instead looking her over. “You ready to walk again? We can wait here a while longer if not.”

Nia shakes her head, slowly getting to her feet. “No, I’m good. You sure you don’t want me to take the bag for a while?”

Tobias grabs the bag almost protectively, glaring at her. “You’re not carrying the bag when you have a cracked rib.”

Nia lifts her hands, palms out, in a peace offering. “Okay, okay! Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal it from you.”

“Good.”

Nia shakes her head, smiling, and follows Tobias back into the thick of the market.

They spend the rest of the morning that way, drifting through town and browsing the shops. They even stop for lunch at a delightful little cafe with a clear view of the ocean.

By early afternoon, Nia is exhausted and more than ready to get off her feet. Tobias checks the sun’s positioning in the sky before leading them first across the bridge to shore, then along the hot sand of Kaleido Bay’s beach.

Finally, they reach the path they took when arriving here, where the sand meets firmer soil. A merchant cart awaits there, with a giant Clydesdale-like Pokemon the color of clay at its front and a kecleon checking the cart’s contents. Tobias pays the little chameleon for a ride back north, then leads the two of them to the back of the cart.

Tobias climbs in first, then helps Nia up into the cart. Nia sits as soon as she’s in, collapsing back against some bags of…grain? Rice? Whatever it is, the bumpy texture is welcome if it means she can lean back and relax her sore ribs.

Two other Pokemon, lone travelers by the look of them, also climb into the cart shortly after, giving Nia and Tobias a cordial nod before finding their own places to sit.

Tobias settles down next to Nia, eyeing the strangers for a moment before deeming them innocent enough for him to relax, too.

Nia doubts he’ll be able to sleep, though. After a moment of deliberation, and figuring that her worrywart of a partner would just tell her to take the chance to rest anyways, she tilts her head back against the bags to close her eyes.

Nia falls into a light doze, somewhere between asleep and awake. The bumpy movement of the cart as it starts up and travels along is strangely soothing, and must nudge her closer to Tobias, as warmth spreads through her side and the faint scent of her partner wreathes around her. He doesn’t protest, though, and the soundtrack of their journey—the faint rustle of the winds through dry grass, the rhythmic hoofsteps of the horse Pokemon pulling the cart, and the quiet conversation of the other travelers in the cart—becomes a wash of white noise.

Nia barely registers that any time has passed before she’s being nudged awake. She lifts her head, blinking against a haze of sleep. “Hm?”

“Time to get off,” Tobias says, looking amused.

Nia makes a quiet noise of protest, but doesn’t put up her usual fight since she knows the rest of the caravan is waiting on them.

Nia pushes herself to her feet, wincing when the motion pulls at her ribs. Yawning, she clumsily follows Tobias off the cart, accepting his help without a thought.

The trail back through the tall grass to the mesa in the distance seems both impossibly long and strangely short. Nia shakes off her clumsy, half-awake steps as she goes, needing to be alert for the climb up to the cliffside village.

It’s sunset when they finally arrive back at the gates to the human settlement.

Slate isn’t the one guarding the entrance this time. Instead, a bipedal yellow lizard Pokemon with a sun-like collar and black scales covering his head and neck greets them with easy familiarity. Nia remembers seeing him around the settlement a few times before she and Tobias left for Kaleido, so the lizard must recognize them in turn.

Even with her nap on the way here and the walk up the mesa, Nia is still trying to shake off the last dregs of sleep. So it takes a moment to register when a familiar voice yells at them from above.

“You’re back!”

Nia startles and looks up. Junie dives at her from the nearest rooftop like a tiny, feathery comet.

“Wait, don’t—!” Tobias shouts.

Even though some part of her knows it’s a bad idea, Nia can’t just not catch Junie. So she opens her arms, and Junie barrels into her, making Nia stumble back with a yelp. Tobias’ hands steady her.

“She’s hurt, you idiot!”

Junie immediately flails out of Nia’s arms to flutter in the air in front of them. “What?!”

“I’m fine,” Nia says, trying to smile instead of grimace as she straightens up. “My ribs are just a bit sore.”

Junie’s face falls. “I’m sorry, Nia! I should’ve checked first but I was just excited and—wait.”

Oh boy. Here it comes.

Junie looks between the two of them with angry suspicion, fluttering just a bit higher to be at eye-level. “You got hurt. I told you not to get hurt!”

Tobias sighs, arm still looped loosely around Nia’s back. “Our visit to the prison didn’t go as planned.”

“Ya think?! I swear, I can’t leave you two alone for a second! I was getting worried since you weren’t back yet and I knew you got into trouble, but I told myself, ‘No! It’s only been a couple of days! How could they possibly find trouble that quickly?’ Like a fluffy little—"

“Junie!” Nia says. “Breathe.”

Junie’s beak clicks shut.

Nia wordlessly holds out her arm as a perch, like a hawk handler she remembers seeing at the zoo when she was young.

Junie hesitates, but after a moments she settles on Nia’s arm, nearly weightless. Nia thinks she sees her feathers trembling.

“I’m okay,” Nia soothes.

“You’d better be,” Junie grumbles. But the words are weak, no bite behind them at all. She turns her glare on Tobias next. “You hurt too?”

“No.”

Nia frowns at him.

“Ugh, fine. It’s just my side. But it’s already mostly healed.”

Tobias lifts his arm to show where fresh bandages sit plastered across his side after Dismas snagged him with a claw.

Junie doesn’t look pleased by how casual he’s being. “You two are walking disasters, you know that? C’mon, let’s get you some food before you keel over.”

Junie flaps back into the air, giving them another quick scan as if to assure herself they’re in one piece. Then she nods and leads the way to the cafeteria.

“Well,” Nia says, giving Tobias a teasing smile. “She didn’t chew us out too badly.”

Tobias snorts. “Bold of you to assume she’s finished.”

Then he seems to realize all at once that he still has an arm wrapped around Nia’s back. He yanks himself away with a flush, muttering something about hurrying up before Junie comes back.

Nia chuckles, following her partner as he chases after their friend.

————————————————————

When they’re done eating and catching Junie up on their trip to Kaleido Bay—which did indeed include a second round of scolding—Nia is more than ready to go back to the inn and flop into a nest. She crosses her arms on the little table they’re seated at, easing herself into a slouch to rest her head and relax.

“So,” Tobias says, lowering his voice and ducking closer to Junie. “What’d we miss here the last few days?”

Junie chirps a laugh. “Nothing warranting that sort of tone, Mr. Suspicious. I was a little distracted by Asher, but I didn’t see anything obvious. Rosalind left soon after you two, and Will seems to be really into his research. Fidel just keeps the place running smoothly, as far as I can tell.”

Tobias slumps, clearly disappointed that his suspicions about Will still have no backing. Nia tries not to feel smug about that and doesn’t really succeed.

Junie opens her mouth to say something else, but her eyes flick past Nia and Tobias, towards the door of the establishment. “Well, speak of the devil. Or his dog, at least.”

Nia looks over her shoulder, immediately spotting the tall figure of Fidel. The zoroark is standing in the open doorway of the building and clearly looking around for someone.

His ears perk when he catches sight of the three of them. He weaves between other tables and patrons to reach their side.

“Good to see you two made it back safely,” Fidel says with a warm smile.

“Mostly safe,” Junie corrects with a dry look.

“Good to see you too, Fidel,” Nia says, pushing past another scolding with a smile. “You looking for someone?”

“You three, actually,” Fidel chuckles. “I heard that you and Tobias had returned, so I thought I’d let you know personally that Will has some information to help with your search for Xerneas. However, since it’s getting late, you’re more than welcome to wait until morning and get some rest first.”

Nia blinks, exchanging a surprised look with Tobias. She honestly hadn’t expected Will’s team to find anything in…what? Two days? Three? And she is awfully tired, but…

Well, the thought that they could get some answers or at least a little direction before bed is a nice one.

Both Tobias and Junie look to Nia to make the decision, seeing as she’s the most injured and in need of rest.

“Let’s go ahead and meet tonight,” Nia says, slipping out of her seat and stretching carefully. “I’m just going to be thinking about it all night anyways if I go to bed now.”

“I’m sure Will will be pleased to see you,” Fidel says with a smile. “He can be impatient when he wants to get something done.”

And with that, Fidel steps back and waits for the three of them to gather their crumbs and trays into a tidy tower on the table before leading them outside.

Junie, apparently deeming Nia too injured to act as her usual perch, instead settles on the satchel at Tobias’ hip. He glares down at her, but doesn’t try to push her off, so she wiggles into her spot with a smug fluff of her feathers.

Nia bites back a smile and soaks in the easy atmosphere of the settlement as the Pokemon—the humans—around them go about their evening.

Fidel leads their group back through the same building as before, down the electric-lit tunnel and to the quarters hidden within the cliffside. It’s cooler here, a slight dampness to the air and to the stone underfoot.

Will is alone this time, sitting at the table with a few sheets of paper in one hand and a cup of something hot and steaming—tea, Nia thinks, by the scent—in the other.

He looks up when they enter, red eyes brightening. “Ah, welcome back! I see Fidel found you all. How was your trip to Kaleido?”

Nia grimaces, making a so-so gesture with her hand before glancing at Tobias.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t look eager to share. He crosses his arms. “Fine.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence after that.

When it’s clear Tobias won’t be elaborating, Will claps his hands to move them along. “Well, I for one am happy to see you back safe and sound. I’m sure you’re tired, so I’ll cut to the chase. Fidel told you that we’ve made some progress on our research?”

Will gestures for them to sit, so they all gather once more around the stone table. Nia has to ease herself onto the stool, and she waves off Fidel’s concerned look.

“So whatcha find out?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head.

Will gathers up the papers in his hands, splaying them out in front of him. Nia leans forward to read them herself, but the scribbled notes—written in more than one handwriting—are tough to parse, especially upside-down.

“While we don’t have anything like exact coordinates, we do have a better idea of where Xerneas may have decided to rest.” Will points at a particular block of text, written in a hurried scrawl. “We confirmed first that her proximity is indeed close to Yveltal, which we expected considering that the two of them are so intertwined in legend.”

“They are likely sleeping within sight of each other,” Fidel adds. “Almost certainly on the same continent.”

“Great,” Tobias says, voice heavy with sarcasm. “But we don’t have time to search entire continents.“

Will smiles, a gleam in his eye. “True, but I’m not finished quite yet.”

He flips through his papers again until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Here! Xerneas and Yveltal always choose different locations for each sleep cycle, but the environments where they rest always tie into their natural roles.”

“Meaning..?” Nia prompts.

“Meaning that while Yveltal would likely settle somewhere barren of life—a harsh environment with few plants or Pokemon—Xerneas would likely settle down in a very different kind of environment: somewhere absolutely teeming with life energy.”

“Xerneas disperses life energy into the world when she wakes,” Fidel elaborates. “In order to prepare for that moment, she needs to feed on the ambient life energy around her as she sleeps. Yveltal, however, consumes life energy when he wakes, so he needs a barren environment to empty those stores of energy into when he falls into sleep. The two of them are push and pull, like the tides. You need both to keep this world in balance.”

“Even more astonishing,” Will adds. “Both of them can tap directly into this life energy as if it were one connected system. A great tapestry made up of every living thing, from plants and Pokemon to the fabric of this dimension itself—which is likely why Giratina is hoping Xerneas can prevent or at least heal the break in the dimensional border. With their power, Xerneas and Yveltal can restore energy where it is lacking, and remove energy where there is an excess.”

Nia nods slowly, trying to take all of that in.

“So they can both just…feel all of the life energy, everywhere?” Junie asks, uncertain. “Like, all of it in the world? Even us?”

Fidel hums. “It’s said that all life energy in the world is intertwined, in a way, so yes. I have no idea how, or how the legends access it, though.” He gives Nia a brief smile. “You’d have to ask one of them yourself, or one of the Pokemon more attuned to life energy, such as the lucario and riolu.”

Nia blinks, leaning back as all eyes turn to her. “Don’t look at me! I can see the aura of other Pokemon, but I can’t do anything like that!”

“Have you ever tried?” Will asks, looking at Nia thoughtfully.

“W-What do you mean?”

“Tried tapping into the life energy outside of other beings,” Will clarifies. “Plants. The dimensional border. It would be fascinating to learn how deep your aura powers go.”

Nia won’t deny that the idea does pique her curiosity, but it sounds much too powerful an ability for her to have in reach.

…Then again, Nia hasn’t ever tried looking for life energy outside of other people, and she certainly hasn’t tried anything like Xerneas and Yveltal seem to be able to do. Affecting that greater tapestry of aura threaded throughout the world. Adding to it, or taking it away. Interacting with it directly.

It all sounds kind of overwhelming. Maybe that’s something she can look into later, when she’s back at the guild with Avery and Val.

“Okay, put the aura experiments on hold for a minute,” Tobias sighs. “Right now, we have to focus on the mission. We know Xerneas will settle somewhere lush, and Yveltal will hibernate somewhere barren. That doesn’t narrow it down much.”

He has a point, unfortunately. If that’s all they have to go on, the duo could be anywhere. Xerneas could be resting in a forest, or under a field, or within a coral reef. She might even be sleeping below a city. Yveltal, likewise, could be sleeping in the desert, or the arctic, or even on the ocean floor. There are endless locations that would fit the bill for both.

Will’s excitement dampens. “You’re correct, unfortunately. We do have one other clue at the moment, but I’m not sure it’s of any help.”

“What is it?”

Will flips through his papers again, frowning. “Yveltal apparently cocoons himself in a very peculiar kind of crystal when he hibernates. Sometimes it can crop up in excess in the environment around him, giving a hint of his presence. However, if those crystals have yet to be discovered anywhere, then…”

Then they’re out of luck.

Still, as silence falls over all of them, Nia frowns. Something about that phrasing—strange crystals—tickles at her brain. Where has she heard something about that before? Recently, even?

It takes a moment, but then it hits her.

“Carnelian!” She gasps, hands smacking the tabletop. She looks at Tobias. “Didn’t Carnelian say he was called to investigate some weird crystals under the Silenfroar mountains?”

Tobias’ brow furrows, and Nia can tell it takes him a moment to place the name of the sableye they’d saved, when they were stranded in that dungeon with the crew of the Aqua Jet.

Then his face falls slack with surprise. “He did.“

“The Silenfroar range could certainly be considered barren of life,” Will murmurs, glancing at Fidel for confirmation. “It’s a very harsh, snowy land, yes?”

“Our guildmaster trained in a village on top of those mountains,” Tobias protests. “Pokemon live there.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean Yveltal couldn’t still be nearby,” Fidel says. “He destroys life energy, but that doesn’t mean someone would die from living near his resting place. Just that anything more fragile, such as plants, likely couldn’t grow in the area. Which wouldn’t stand out as strange in such a desolate environment.”

“So you think there’s a good chance Yveltal could be there?” Nia asks.

Fidel nods. “Likely inside one of the mountains, if he’s stayed hidden for so long.”

“So if we assume Yveltal is in the mountains somewhere, we should be able to limit our search for Xerneas to the areas around Silenfroar, right?” Tobias asks.

Will shakes his head. “No, we shouldn’t just assume we can use the mountains as a starting point. We can’t afford to be wrong and waste time searching the areas nearby when we know we have to be efficient about all of this. We’re on a time limit.”

“But how can we know for sure that Yveltal is actually there?” Junie asks.

“Simple,” Will says with a smile. “We check for ourselves. If we can confirm Yveltal’s presence in the mountains, then we can use Silenfroar as the anchor point in our search for Xerneas with full confidence.”

That does make sense. The world is on a time limit, so they can’t afford to be looking in the wrong area only to never find the legendary because Xerneas is somewhere else entirely.

“So does that mean we need to go to the Silenfroar mountains?” Nia asks, looking to Tobias.

“I would prefer to look into this myself,” Tobias admits. “But I don’t know if we’d be the best choice for that. We aren’t the fastest Seekers in the guild, so August might decide to send someone else.”

“Like a flying type?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head.

“Normally that would be the fastest option,” Tobias agrees. “But I know the Lexym mail ‘mon can’t deliver anywhere in the mountain range because the air is too frigid for flight. Prone to blizzards and avalanches, too. So August would probably have to send a land ‘mon.”

“There are a lot of grass and bug types at the guild, though,” Nia says. “We would at least have an advantage in the snow, right?”

Tobias’ muzzle wrinkles as if he disagrees with that sentiment, but he nods all the same.

“Stop by your guild first and see if you can convince your guildmaster,” Will says, flipping through his papers. “I would prefer to work with ‘mon I know I can trust on this. On that matter—Fidel?”

The zoroark straightens to attention.

“Could you accompany Team Scarlet to Silenfroar to look into this? I’m sure they could use a helping hand, and there’s no one I trust more.”

Nia expects Fidel to agree instantly after how loyal he’s proven to be, but instead he falters, looking torn. He glances at the tunnel leading back outside. “I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“You know we’ll take good care of Asher in your absence,” Will says, giving Fidel a soothing smile. “Please, Fidel. I need someone to give me the news right away once Nia and Tobias return to their guild, and there’s no one I trust more with the job.”

Fidel still looks reluctant, but he forces a smile and a nod. “Of course. I’ll talk to Asher.”

“Good.” Will nods and looks back to Nia and Tobias. “Fidel will accompany you two for the time being.”

“We didn’t ask for an escort,” Tobias growls, crossing his arms and glaring at Will.

“Tobias,” Nia sighs. “C’mon, you just said it’s going to be a rough trip. We need all the help we can get.”

Tobias clearly isn’t convinced, but he relents under Nia’s pleading expression. “Fine.”

“Does that mean I can come too?” Junie pipes up.

Everyone turns to her, surprised.

She chirps a laugh. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to sit out on saving the world! Bo will understand.”

Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. “It…might be dangerous, Junie.”

Junie scoffs. “Duh! That’s why I’ve gotta come along! Look at what happens to you two when I’m not there to keep you out of trouble.”

She gestures at Nia’s ribs and Tobias’ bandaged side.

Oh. She’s worried about them. Of course she is, after hearing about their fight with Dismas.

Nia softens, glancing at Tobias. “What do you think?”

Tobias shrugs. “Whatever. Just don’t complain when it’s freezing cold in the mountains.”

“That’s what I’ve got you for!” Junie chirps. “You’ll be my walking heating pad.”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but doesn’t push any further.

“Good. Now that that’s settled,” Will says, hands clasped as he looks between them. “Be careful if you do find Yveltal. Do not under any circumstance wake him, as he could go on a rampage if he’s roused early and Xerneas isn’t awake to calm him. Just confirm his presence or the lack thereof, then report back as soon as possible.”

Everyone around the table, even Tobias, gives a solemn nod.

“I suppose we should leave first thing in the morning, then?” Fidel asks.

Will gives him a sympathetic smile. “Time is of the essence, old friend, so yes. I’ll send one of our night fliers to the nearest travel outpost right away to hire flight ‘mon for the trip. It’ll be much quicker if you can leave directly from the settlement in the morning.”

Fidel nods. “Understood.” He turns to the Nia, Tobias, and Junie. “Rest up tonight at the inn, and be ready to go by dawn. Make sure to eat breakfast before we depart.”

“Yes, Dad,” Junie jokes under her breath. Nia bites back a smile.

“Then you’re all dismissed,” Will says. “Good luck and stay safe.”

Fidel murmurs his thanks and hurries out of the room, likely to find Asher. Nia and Junie give their own thanks before getting up to leave, too.

Tobias groans as he stands. “Guess we need to see if there are any winter cloaks in our size at the guild. We can’t go somewhere so harsh without protection.”

“Oh! No need for that,” Will says, catching them before they get too far. He gives their surprised looks a smile. “Our seamstress here in town already has some snow gear prepared for the coming winter. She’s likely still in the shop if you want to stop by yet tonight. Feel free to grab whatever you think you’ll need, free of charge.”

Nia blinks. “Oh! Are you sure? That’s awfully generous.”

Will waves them off. “Of course, of course! You three are working to save the world—I think we can spare a few coats and scarves for that. Besides, Florence knows she’ll always be properly compensated for her work.”

Nia glances at Tobias and Junie. Tobias doesn’t look thrilled about being indebted to Will in any way, but he doesn’t argue. Junie, on the other hand, chirps a happy, “Thanks!”

The three of them head outside, and Nia takes a breath of crisp evening air, feeling a pang of longing when she catches the smoky scent of the settlement’s fire pits and hears the distant sound of the band they’d listened to the other night. She wishes they could’ve stayed here just a bit longer, but unfortunately the end of the world waits for no one.

Tobias starts walking. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with before the shop closes for the night.”

Oh, right. Clothes! Nia perks up, and she can see her own excitement reflected in Junie’s eyes.

“Shopping trip!” Junie crows, pulling ahead of Tobias and drawing looks from a few passing ‘mon.

“Shopping trip!” Nia echoes, much quieter but no less eager.

“Shopping trip,” Tobias monotones, with all the excitement of someone about to be tortured.

Nia giggles as Junie cackles, the three of them quickly tracking down the tailor shop they’d seen in the days before.

Warm light spills from the windows, the lack of flicker telling Nia that this building must be one of the few with electric lighting, like the tunnels. When they head inside, a bell jingles overhead to announce their arrival.

Nia’s eyes jump immediately to the colorful swathes of clothing crowding the large room. Some clothes are hung on horizontal wooden poles like makeshift store racks, little islands of fabric with just enough space between them to act as cramped walkways. Other clothes line shelves and closet-like alcoves set into the walls.

Everything seems to be roughly organized by size, a rack of clothes along the left wall boasting cloaks and dresses and robes long enough to be curtains, though they’d probably fit Maggie or August well. Conversely, racks on the right side of the room look more like baby clothes or pet outfits, some even tiny enough for Junie’s small frame.

Accessories, jewelry, and even shoes are also shelved here and there between clothes and near the register.

While it’s immediately clear that the fabric options aren’t as diverse as Nia is used to, with nothing plastic or synthetic in sight, there is an impressive variety of styles and colors. It almost feels like Nia’s back in the human world again, shopping with her mom or Toni.

Nia swallows back a sudden surge of longing, and tries to focus instead on the good feelings the shop’s familiarity brings.

“Hello.”

A Pokemon, presumably the Florence that Will had mentioned, is looking at them from the front desk. She’s a tall black Pokemon with white ribbonlike adornments atop her head and chest. She has a pouty purple face and pale blue eyes framed by hair-like disks on either side of her head. She reminds Nia of a particular style of fashion from the human world, one she thinks was popular in Japan.

Regardless, the Pokemon has a long piece of fabric laid across the counter she’s sitting at, one end of it held carefully in her hand. A threaded needle floats in the air just above the piece of cloth, surrounded by the purple glow of psychic energy.

“We’re closing soon,” Florence says, going back to her work. Her needle moves with confident, elegant movements, dipping in and out of the fabric. “But you can take a look around if you’re quick.”

“We’re here on Will’s orders,” Tobias says, eyeing the contents of the shop like they’ll bite him. “We need snow gear fit for the mountains.”

The needle stops sewing for a moment as Florence glances up at them again. But then she shrugs and goes back to her work. “I’ve got a few pieces that would fit you three in the back section. Check there.”

Tobias nods, apparently not bothered by Florence’s less-than-social behavior, and leads the way through the shop. Junie hops from rack to rack above their heads, starry-eyed as she looks around like a kid in a candy store.

Nia can relate to the feeling. While the impressive craftsmanship and the sheer number of pieces in the shop would be thrilling enough on their own, some part of Nia is also excited by the idea of wearing clothing again, weirdly enough. She’s long since gotten past the embarrassment of being “naked,” as long as she doesn’t think about it too hard, but there’s something distinctly human about clothing that she’s eager to reclaim.

Tobias finally stops in front of a rack of clothing made for Pokemon around their size. He quickly pushes through summery shawls, skirts and robes to reach the smaller selection of winter clothing at the end. He flips through the thick fabrics for a moment, skimming past clothing clearly made for quadrupeds, and stops at a deep navy cloak that hangs heavily on its makeshift hanger. After looking it over for a moment, he pulls it free, draws it around his shoulders to check the fit, and flips the hood over his head. It doesn’t drag on the floor, and it seems to sit comfortably around his shoulders and tail.

It looks nice on him, too, the dark tone complimenting his bright orange skin and cool blue eyes.

Tobias nods and pulls it off, draping it over his arm. “Done.”

Nia blinks. “Just like that?” She glances at the nearby floor-length mirror, slightly less smooth than human mirrors but effective enough. It must’ve cost a fortune, rare as mirrorstone seems to be in this world. “You don’t want to see how it looks or anything before deciding?”

Tobias raises a brow. “Why would that matter? It’s heavy enough and it fits. Does it look stupid or something?”

“N-No! It looks nice on you,” Nia assures. “It goes well with your eyes, actually.”

Tobias blinks, clearly surprised. Slowly, a flush spreads across his cheeks and nose.

Junie snrrks a laugh from atop a nearby rack of clothes. “Well, if Nia thinks it looks good, that’s all that matters, right?”

Nia frowns up at her. “Don’t you think it looks nice?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Junie assures, waving her off with a wing. “Looks great. Now if you need me, I’ll be looking at the little chihuahua-sized stuff over here.”

Junie hops a few racks over, where notably tiny clothes are hung, and starts picking through them to find something for herself.

Tobias is strangely quiet after Junie’s cryptic comment. He holds his cloak closer and shuffles over to look through some knit hats instead of commenting.

Nia’s shakes her head and takes Tobias’ place, looking through the small selection of snow clothes. There are a few cloaks like Tobias’, and she can imagine he chose that option because it’s what he’s used to. Less restrictive than most human-styled clothes.

Nia can’t help being drawn to the more coat-like options, though, with sleeves and a line of buttons down the front. She feels strangely nostalgic as she runs her fingers over soft, thick fabric stuffed with down.

How difficult was it for the seamstress to adapt to working with these kinds of materials? Is it hard to make thick, hide-like cloth without animal pelts or plastic? What about the downy feathers stuffing the coat, which would’ve had to have come from a Pokemon? Molting feathers, maybe.

Nia’s musings stop when she comes across a cream-colored coat, with adorable charcoal buttons off to the side and large pockets. It has a heavy hood, too, with little slots in the fabric for ears.

Nia pulls it off the rack and slips it on, pleased to find that other than the sleeves being a bit long, it fits perfectly, snug and warm.

“What do you think?” Nia asks, stepping back and giving a little spin.

Junie, struggling into something like a winter vest with a disgruntled Tobias’ help, stops to look. She lights up. “You look adorable! Don’t you think so, Toby?”

Tobias spares Nia a glance, face reddening again before he looks back at Junie, yanking her into the vest a little rougher than necessary. “It’s fine. Is it warm?”

Oh. Nia actually feels a little disappointed by his lackluster answer, for some reason. But at least Junie likes it.

Nia nods, moving to look at herself in the mirror, pleased by the coat’s color against her fur. “It’s really warm! I’m still gonna grab a hat and scarf, though. Tobias, do you need a set?”

Tobias grunts an affirmative. “Probably. Didn’t get a chance to grab anything else before this little idiot recruited me.”

“Hey! Excuse me for never dressing as a bird before. I don’t have hands, Toby—it’s hard!”

Nia chuckles as she picks out a matching hat and scarf set for both herself and Tobias. A deep scarlet combo for herself, and a cream set the same color as her coat for Tobias. That way, they’ll still look like a team even when they’re all bundled up.

From there, it takes twice as long as it did for Nia and Tobias to get Junie’s snow gear figured out, mostly because she has to consider her wings. Eventually, though, they manage to stuff her into a combined snow vest and cloak, and she seems pleased by the slits on the sides of the vest that allow her to slip her wings through to fly, while the cloak sitting on top of her wings should still keep her warm when she’s on the ground.

Junie, of course, picks a bright yellow hue from the few color options available, which makes her stand out like a sore thumb in the shop’s dim light.

Tobias looks so tired. “Is that really the color you’re going with?”

“It is a little bright,” Nia admits with a smile. “But I like it.”

“It’s your favorite color. Of course you like it,” Tobias huffs. “I think she looks like a combee.”

Nia blinks, surprised and delighted that Tobias remembered that little fact about her.

“Yep, this one’s good,” Junie confirms, looking smug that her choice has the bonus factor of annoying Tobias. “Now help me get back out of it. I’ve still gotta grab an itty-bitty hat and scarf before we leave.”

They manage to untangle Junie from her outfit and find a hat and scarf that she approves of, which are of course dyed an obnoxious pink color. At this point, Nia is pretty sure she’s picking such bright hues just to annoy Tobias.

Tobias, likely catching on to her game, steadfastly refuses to comment.

The seamstress doesn’t give them any trouble about payment, luckily, and even hands them a thin fabric sack to carry everything in. Nia makes sure to thank her before they leave, taking the bag and swinging it as they walk out of the shop and back to the inn.

They’d fallen into a comfortable quiet as they left the shop, but Junie speaks up now from where she’s nestled between the top of their satchel and Tobias’ side. Her voice is unusually quiet.

“Hey, Nia?”

Nia’s worried by the bird’s suddenly downcast expression. “What’s up?”

“Could you help me write a letter to Bo when we get back to the inn? Since Will’s having our ride come here, I won’t get to see the big guy before we go to your guild. I don’t want him to freak out when I don’t come back home after a few days.”

Oh, Nia hadn’t thought about that. The skarmory would be beside himself if Junie didn’t return when she said she would, and Nia has no idea how long Junie will be with them at the guild while they try to track down Xerneas.

Nia feels a stab of guilt for involving Junie in all this, despite her insisting on tagging along.

“Of course, Junie. Are you still sure you want to come with us? N-Not that I don’t want you there, but…”

Junie actually seems to consider backing out for a moment, but then she shakes her head, giving Nia a smile that falls flat.

“No, I wanna go. Someone has to keep an eye on you two, and saving the world should be fun. I just…don’t want him to worry, y’know?”

Nia gets it. She nods. “Yeah. Let’s write that as soon as we get back, okay? We can mail it off tomorrow before we leave.”

Junie looks relieved. “Thanks, Nia. You’re the best.”

Nia smiles, and Junie moves the conversation onto lighter topics, rambling about what tips she might learn from the flight ‘mon during their trip tomorrow.

They’ve got an early morning ahead of them, but Nia thinks they’re ready for it.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Two

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

Chapter Two - Breakfast

Content Warning: None (Let me know if I missed any!)

“Coffee anyone?” You call out to the foyer as your feet hit the carpet. 

It was early and you had a lot to do today, but there was always time for coffee. Besides, you spent half the night tossing and turning before finally winding down into a few hours of sleep. You were exhausted - not just from the night’s meeting, but the silence of the Hotel was deafening. You usually slept to music, but the record player in your old room didn’t belong to you and so you couldn’t take it when you left. 

Angel sat before the old television, Husk standing at his side, his arms crossed before him. Angel lay sprawling across the sofa, dark circles under his eyes. With the type of jobs these two had, you were surprised to see them up so early. 

“… isn’t that right Tom?” You recognized Katie Killjoy’s voice echo from the television. 

666 News this early in the morning? You joined the cat and spider in the alcove. 

“That’s right Katie! Another pile of ashes was discovered in the alley of the Pride Ring this morning as the Shadow has claimed yet another victim! The remains have been identified as Chazwick Thurman, a known member of the Crimson Mafia...” 

“Too bad they weren’t your ashes, aye Tom…” 

You drowned out the voices of the broadcasters as images of an alleyway in the Entertainment district flash across the screen. The only thing left behind was a bone-shaped belt buckle and a pile of grey. 

“Crimson was invited to comment.” 

You stiffen.

The screen cut to a cameraman chasing Crimson into a car. “Get that fucking camera out of my fucking face!” He slams the car door and the screen cuts back to the reporters. 

Goddamn that almost gave you a heart attack…

“How do yous think they identify ‘em?” Angel motioned to the screen, now turned back to Chaz’s ash’s blowing away in the breeze. “All I see is a bunch o’ dirt.” 

“Something Gluttony whipped up I heard,” Husk grumbles. He looks just as exhausted as Angel. 

“What would Beelzebub want to do with a bunch o’ murders?” Angel argued. 

“Don’t look at me, those are just the rumors!” 

“I heard it was a new Voxtek technology,” you chime in. “They have some sort of electronic scanner that can detect soul signatures.” 

You were right, of course, but they didn’t know that. 

“But he was a Hellborn Native? Do they even have souls? And what was he doing in the Pride Ring anyway?” Angel argued. 

You shrugged, “Like Husk said… Only rumors.” 

“Seems a little shady if you ask me.” Husk rubs the scruff forming on his chin. “That’s the first Hell Native to have been slain by the Shadow. So far he’s only gone after Sinners. Why change now?” 

You weren’t interested in playing conspiracy theorist today. Too much to do. Instead you decided to shift the conversation, “Coffee?” 

Angel and Husk look to you. 

“It’s the only reason we got up,” Angel answered. “Heard ya’ had a busy morning and didn’t wanna miss ya’.” 

The sentiment made your face turn pink. Day two and already you felt some sort of connection forming with the two of them. 

You followed them into the kitchen, but froze on the threshold as the sound of soft jazz hit your ears and a jolt of static ran down your spine. There, standing in a frilly apron tied at the waist, serving spoon in hand, was the red demon Alastor. He didn’t look up as he scooped the remaining eggs into the white dish set on the table. 

“Good morning fellow Sinners!” The demon sung. Husk and Angel grumbled in response. Not morning people. So, the maniacal demon has a domestic side? What a weird change of pace after literally beating the shit out of someone yesterday and then turning around and pissing off an Overlord. 

“Morning, Mr. Alastor,” you mumbled, trying to match his cheerfulness but frankly, you hadn’t had coffee yet and didn’t enjoy talking to anyone before your first steaming cup. 

Finally his eyes landed on you, the soft jazz music coming to a small and almost imperceptible skip you would have missed had you not been listening for it. This man gives away so much in his audio alone. 

Half-lidded, his eyes dragged over you, from the Mary Jane heels - short as can be, you couldn’t handle anything over an inch - to the red puffy dress that hugged your sides and expanded into layers of black landing just above your knees. The dress was long sleeved, with black lace running across your back, hiding your tattoo perfectly. It came with a matching metal red clip for your hair. 

Normally you hated wearing dresses, hated looking girly, but etiquette called for it this morning. You’d be far more comfortable in a pair of trousers and button up collared shirt. 

You waited as the invisible radio clicked through a few stations before returning to a soft jazz. “Well, well, look what the spider and cat dragged in. And where is our fine hotel guest off to today?” He returned the pan to the stove before untying the apron at his waist. 

Okay, he was acting cordial. So maybe that meant whatever happened yesterday on the cobblestone streets wasn’t him? Or maybe he hadn’t realized it was you who did it? Either way, there was a question mark next to whatever power slapped the shit out of you yesterday - “proceed with caution,” the sticky note next to it read. 

“I have a breakfast date…” You start but Angel’s whistling interrupts you. 

“Ow! Oooow!” He called, “And who is the lucky Sinner bestowed with the honor of taking your fine ass out today?” 

Your cheeks couldn’t get any redder. “My old land lady?” You curled into yourself, feeling eyes on your skin, resisting the urge to rub the back of your neck. 

“Oh, you like ‘em mature, don’t ya’?” Angel purred. It made you laugh, breaking some of the tension. 

“Now, now Angel Dust, one musn’t speak such profanities to a young lady before she’s had her breakfast.” Alastor settled into his chair. Snapping his fingers for a newspaper, he disappeared behind the black and white text. The air around you grew a little colder with his closeness, like the heat was being absorbed by the red demon himself.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Angel shrugged, spooning piles of egg onto his plate. “Hair clip knows I’m good for it.” 

“Same thing as yesterday, Husk?” You ask sheepishly, making your way to the Breville in the corner. The coldness wrapped around your legs, as if it was following you across the kitchen.

“That would be great, kiddo,” he rubbed his temples, his chin resting on the table top. Hangover? 

You felt the bubbles in your chest die down as you got to work, filling the portafilter with beans and finding a white espresso cup in the cupboard. 

“Angel?” You called over your shoulder. You feigned a small kick at the air around your ankles, wishing for whatever invisible coldness to leave you alone. It didn’t. 

“A vanilla soy latte if ya’ could be so kind, sweet cheeks,” he asked, mouthful of food. You heard the door swing open as Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty’s voices filled the air. 

I thought the tiny maid normally cooked the meals? 

Rummaging through the cupboards you couldn’t find any syrups for his request - only a chai tea blend. You apologized but made a mental note to pick up some supplies today. 

Passing him his soy latte - complete with a spider on top - you got to work on everyone else’s orders before finally turning to Alastor. 

Your palms instantly started to sweat. What was it about this demon that made you so nervous? 

“Can I get you anything Mr. Alastor?” Was your voice shaky? Did you seem nervous?

The top part of the newspaper folded down to reveal his face. His smile was strained despite the sweet jazz playing over his radio. His radio? Was that correct? 

“Alastor’, darling, and a hot cup of joe would be wonderful,” his eyes lingered on you a little too long before you finally nodded. 

Swallowing, you turned back to the Breville and began grinding the beans. You debated making a second cup for yourself, you did still have thirty minutes before you needed to go, but didn’t necessarily wanna smudge your red lipstick before you left. It’ll give you something for your hands to do, to calm the nerves that is, and to warm your bones - the coldness eliciting goosebumps across your legs. 

Making two cups of coffee, one in Alastor’s “Oh, Deer!” mug - which made you chuckle - you paused, an idea forming in your mind. You didn’t have many ingredients to work with, but you did have one thing. Opening the chai you took a sniff - fresh. You had a feeling, and it was a risk, but you decided to jump off that cliff anyway. Using a strainer you let a few leaves steep in his cup, before swirling it around and straining it out. 

Dropping the mug before him, you finally noticed the extra chair that had been added to the table - right next to him. When did that get there? Nifty sat to your right with Angel right across from you. You tried to catch Angel’s attention, to thank him for adding the extra seat, but he didn’t notice you as he was too busy licking the foam from his lips while sending Husk a sexual retort. Meanwhile, Nifty was stabbing away at her plate, too busy to notice your sudden hesitation.

Was it because of Alastor? 

Your mind flits back to the radio broadcast last night and Alastor’s grand display?-battle?-sing a-long?-with the media demon Vox. Seems he had a chance to go big at one point but never really made it. You wondered what happened? 

“I don’t bite, darling,” Alastor snapped and his newspaper disappeared. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his knees before taking a sip of his mug. His eyes lit up, his smile curling at the edge. You held your breath as you waited for his reaction. 

“Please, take a seat,” the chair before you slid back without a touch, a puddle of shadow beneath it shifting ever so slightly. 

He took another sip, his shoulders dropping an inch. You took that as a sign that he enjoyed your coffee concoction and wasn’t going to rip your head off for changing his request. 

Rejoining the table, you swore the air around your legs warmed slightly. 

“Hey, Hair clip, I gotta know something,” Angel chimed across the table, his belly finally full. “What’s a sweet lil’ thing like you gotta do to get yourself down ‘ere?” 

“Angel!” Charlie protested. 

“Wha’? Come on we was all thinkin’ it.” He crossed his many arms. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Charlie’s eyes twinkled. 

“Uhm, no it’s okay,” your hands clench and unclench around the mug, letting the heat soothe your fingers, resisting the urge to rub your neck. “I had the unfortunate circumstances of finding myself at the center of a web of…” you searched for the right word, “disappearances.” Your lips curled into a smile you couldn’t help but form. You tried to hide it by siping your cup. 

Lying was all too easy these days. 

“Oh, shit.” Angel jumped in his seat. 

“Wait, are you telling us you killed people?” Husk breathes. 

“Stab, stab, stab,” Nifty drove her knife into her toast over and over. Vaggie reached over and carefully pulled the needle from her fingers. 

How much do you reveal about this backstory now? If you reveal too much it’ll appear as if you have nothing to hide, but chatty Sinners were suspicious Sinners. Give them just a nugget to chew on for now. 

“Technically, the cases were never solved. While I was alive anyway…” You mumbled into your cup, conscious of your lipstick on the rim. 

Not denial but not confirmation, either. 

“So, you didn’t kill people?” Husk clarifies. 

“I didn’t say that…” You mumble into the steam.

The beans aren’t bad, but the undercut of chocolate wasn’t your favorite. Add that to the shopping list for today. 

So much to do before tomorrow… 

“So, then you did?” Angel asks. 

You didn’t answer. This conversation was going in circles. 

“Might we have heard of you and your endeavors topside, Ms. Thestral?” Alastor’s forearms were suddenly on the table, his presence leaning into you. 

You felt something slip past your ankles, like a small breeze. You crossed your legs instinctively. 

There’s power in a name down here in Hell. Knowing who people were before gives others leverage, gives them blackmail to use against another. They could threaten your family still alive up top. They could use it to find others who have died but knew you from before for information. The possibilities are endless. 

Alastor knows this. It’s an unspoken rule. It’s why Angel goes by Angel or Husk goes by Husk. He knows you’d never give any exact details leading to who you were and what you did, so he’s decided to toy with you. Much like Sir Pentious from yesterday. 

Let him eat his own medicine then.

“Might we have heard of you and yours, Mr. Alastor?” You leaned into him, your gaze never wavering from his face. A fleeting flash of amusement so swift had you blinked you would have missed it. 

The air was sucked out of the room in one collective gasp as the Hotel Natives waited for his response. 

Geez, were they all afraid of this guy or…? You’d hate to see what they’d do in the presence of an Overlord. 

He tipped his head back and laughed. “I believe you and I are going to get along quite well, darling.” With a snap of his fingers the newspaper reappears, his face disappearing before you got a chance to study it.

The tension in the room drops as everyone lets out their breath. 

You were really going to have to figure out what you were going to do with this Alastor fellow. Perhaps your little outing today would shed light on the subject. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Vaggie is up and out of her seat before you have a chance to register what’s going on. More bangs - coming from the front door. Someone was knocking? Next thing you know, everyone is up and out of their seats and in the foyer - except for Alastor, who decides to take his time. 

Throwing open the door, Vaggie comes face to face with Sir Pentious. “Hello, my dear… Ah!” 

Vaggie plants a facer right into his nose before pulling her spear from the Void. The snake demon collapses at her feet, begging for mercy. 

“Oh, hello again!” Charlie has inserted herself into the situation. This ought to be interesting. You had to admit, you’ve taken some pretty boring jobs before, but the people here were so fun to watch, it made the slow progress worth it. 

Sir Pentious mentions something about redemption, which is exactly the thing to say to the Princess Morningstar. The next thing you know she’s practically dragging him inside.

Angel jumps in to point out the obvious but Vaggie eventually crumbles under Charlie’s begging. 

The gears in your mind turn as they talk, the Princess showing him the foyer, noting how convenient this turn of events just so happened to be. 

Sir Pentious did not just come here on accident - especially after yesterday. Maybe another plan of attack on Alastor? He did catch the red demon off guard, perhaps he was trying again with the same “element of surprise” tactic. 

Regardless, Charlie was dotting on the poor demon like he was a small child in need of shepherding. Was she clueless to the situation or just a bleeding heart hopeful?   

Either way, the mosquito has returned. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Angel’s mood change. From general intrigue to irritation and… was that guilt you were smelling as Charlie showed the snake about? No - self-loathing. They always smelled so similar, it was easy to get the two confused. 

Great now Nifty is fawning over the serpent. The tiny demon is a fucked up enigma that you had no intention of figuring out.

“This is Thestral. Our most recent guest!” Charlie escorts him before you. You shake the snake demon’s hand - gross, he’s slimy. 

Static fills your ears, making your hair stand on end as you shake the demon’s hand.

“And over here is… Oh! Uh, Alastor!” Charlie squeaks. “Our gracious facility manager! You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious… Hehe…” 

You feel Alastor’s eyes on the back of your head before he turns to the snake demon. The serpent cowered before the well-dressed Joe, the room filling with the scent of oranges and mint: fear. 

“Ah, yes! You’re the one who ruined my coat!” The demon’s eyes begin to glow, their eerie red light impregnating the room with their aura. “I definitely remember you now.” 

Was that irritation you sensed? You watched his shoulders as the snake demon attempted to apologize, noting their stiffness despite his relaxed demeanor in the kitchen. 

This guy had a lot of pent up aggression. He carried himself like a clogged overflowing sink someone left the plug in too long. The interaction yesterday with the Vees did nothing to quell his attitude despite the flux he sent the media demon into. The entire grid shut down after you joined Husk at the bar - cellphones, televisions, electricity. It was a blackout for a few hours before his system finally reset. Guess Vox has more of a hold on Pentagram City than you knew. 

Sir Pentious hands Alastor the small piece of fabric he ripped from him yesterday. 

“Ah-Ho!” The Radio Demon sings. “Not many people have been able to take even this much off me, it must have meant quite a lot to you.” 

You snort into your hand, catching a side glance from the Radio Demon. 

The fabric spontaneously combusts into green flame. 

What!? He has access to Hellfire? You try to not let the shock show on your face but he catches it regardless. 

The clock chimes 8 on the wall.

Shit, you were going to be late! 

Shoving your hands into the pockets sewn into the dress, you double check that you did indeed grab your wallet before heading for the door. “I’m sorry Charlie, but I have to go now!” 

“Oh, yes! Don’t forget, one o’clock!” She waves after you. 

The cold sensation slips from your ankles, making you shutter as you head for the front, but before you have a chance to pull the door open, Husk steps into your path. “Hey, kid,” he whispers, looking over your shoulder at something. “Stop by the bar later, wouldya?” 

His tone was far more serious than one would expect for a casual hangout invitation. 

“Sure, Husk,” you nod, worried that something was wrong. 

“Stay safe out there,” he pats your shoulder before heading back to the bar, his eyes downcast as he passes the red demon and Princess now entranced in their own conversation. 

You swear you see Alastor’s shadow move, like it was waving goodbye…

Anyway… That was… weird, but good! Making progress with Husk and an opportunity to hear some gossip from the grumpy bartender. 

You headed out into the cobblestone streets with a new pep in your step and a smile on your face. 

____________________________________

“Thanks, Susan,” you smiled at the potted daisy in your hand. It was half dead but so was she. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” she pinched your cheeks as she screamed. She was deaf, everything she said was in a scream. 

“I’ll see you next week!” You smiled, slowly inching away. “With the lemon finger sandwiches this time!” 

She laughs as you parted ways, flipping her boa over her shoulder as she shuffled. 

You loved the lady, she gave you a room when you had nowhere else to go. After you moved out you thought it would be the end of breakfasts with the old crazy lady, but she begged for tea and snacks once a week in the park. She was lonely - even though she was to blame for her loneliness. She did eat her third husband and all… So, you bought her breakfast and tea once a week. It was the least you could do after everything she has done for you. 

You rounded the Plaza and headed for the doors of Rosie’s Emporium but your stride came to a crashing halt as static filled your ears. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Alastor!” Rosie’s voice carried to the front of the store. 

Fuck! 

Flattening against the other half of the double doors, and hiding your face against the wall, you prayed he would walk right past you and not notice your anxiety-riddled form in the doorway. But, alas, you were never that lucky.

“I wouldn’t dream of it… Oh!” The Radio Demon stopped half stride out the door, his eyes immediately finding yours. The edges of his lips curled far past what you thought possible for his face. His radio faltered just a moment before he addressed you. “Why, hello there.” 

Red bloomed across your cheeks as you came face to face with him. He tipped an eyebrow up, unleashing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

You searched for something to say but words seemed just out of reach. 

What was wrong with you! Why did this demon have so much sway over your emotions! Get yourself together. Why…

Rosie cleared her throat, causing you to jump. She was quiet when she was being sneaky. “And what do we have here?” Her charming New York accent was doing nothing to qualm the nerves in your belly. 

“Thestral, this is Rosie. The most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!” Trumpets echoed through his radio. 

You tried hard not to roll your eyes.

“Oh! Always a charmer,” Rosie smiled wide, her razor sharp teeth on display.

“And Rosie,” his arm wraps around your lower back, pushing you closer to the man-eating Overlord. That cold sensation wraps around your legs again, making you shiver. “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to…”

“Actually,” you interrupt, trying to keep the bite from your voice. Stepping out of Alastor’s grip, the cold follows you. What made him think he could just touch you like that!? “We’ve met.” 

A flash of irritation crosses Alastor’s eyes before being replaced with his mask.

“Oh! What a regal surprise!” Rosie drags you inside, taking the dead potted plant from you. “You’re early!” She goes for a tray of fingers. “Can I offer you something to eat?” 

“I just ate actually,” an uncomfortable laugh escapes your lips. 

You didn’t detest cannibalism - I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good shoulder steak? - it was the way Alastor was looking at you that was setting those butterflies in a flurry. It was a look of… suspicion? You sniffed, but smelled nothing. Hmm, interesting.

“You two know each other?” Alastor twirled his cane, clutching it behind his back. His smile was strained. 

Shit.

“Oh, Thestral and I go way back!” She spun, placing the finger food aside before clamping both her hands atop your shoulders. You were trapped. “Practically fell on top of me when she died!” 

Alastor’s eyes light up with the addition of the new information. “Did she now?” 

You stop him from asking anymore questions with an awkward laugh. “Rosie, don’t you have to take my measurements?” 

“Oh, my stars! You’re here for a dress!” Her eyes sparkle. Cupping your cheeks, she pulls your face to hers. “Finally! This one was getting a little old,” she thumbs a hole in your sleeve you were desperately trying to hide. You frown. 

You didn’t have money to burn often, but when you did you let Rosie dress you up as she pleased. She never wanted money from you, in fact she hated that you offered, but it didn’t feel right to just take her creations without giving her something in return. 

“Oh, don’t fret, doll! You’re still a tomato! Don’t you think so, Alastor?” She pinched your cheeks, turning your face to the red demon in his newly fashioned pin-striped suit.

You met his eyes, he was clearly loving the embarrassment Rosie was showering you with. 

“As cute as a bug’s ear,” he smiled, his eyebrows relaxing in amusement. 

God, did this man do anything other than fucking smile? 

Your face reddened under his direct gaze, its burn bleeding into the cold of Rosie’s fingers. You didn’t like being dotted on and you sure as Hell didn’t like being showed off like this. 

Wait… what did he say? Did he call you cute? The Radio Demon called you cute. 

“Oh!” Rosie finally releases you. You rub your cheeks to lessen the sting from her pinches. “Ya-know, Alastor. I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin’s for a deal to be made, my friend!” 

A deal? Rosie didn’t just throw people a bone out of pity. She didn’t freely offer up anything to anyone unless she respected them. Rosie - the Rosie - respected… him? The Radio Demon was turning out to be a bigger fish than expected. Still, he remained a mystery. God it was irritating. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I must be off. So much to do at the Hotel!” He sung, his radio clicking on a smooth jazz. He picked at invisible lint on his shoulder before his half-lidded eyes met yours. “I‘ll see you this afternoon, darling.” His voice purred, sending butterflies in a flurry within you. With a small bow he slipped out the front door and into Cannibal Plaza taking your breath with him.

You spun as the door shut, swearing you saw a… shadow follow him? 

Fuck, you needed to figure this guy out fast, but that was why you were here wasn’t it? Rosie knew all the best gossip in Pentagram City, she was the ideal source to go to for information on Alastor without raising suspicion at the Hotel. Couldn’t let any of the Natives think you too interested in the Radio Demon. 

“You’re late.”

You spun to face Rosie, a hand on her hip, one eyebrow sky high in suspicion. 

Shaking off the conflicting emotions stirring within you, you met her energy, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It appears you were entertained in my absence.” 

“Don’t start with the attitude, young lady.” She waved a finger at you as she led you into the parlor. 

A set of tea was waiting, half drunk and already cold - tea which was supposed to be for you had you been on time. 

“Susan was extra talkative this morning,” you huffed, taking the chair across from her usual spot. “Seems she missed me.”

The Overlord began tidying up the tray, but as you watched her collect the cups, you couldn’t help but wonder something. “Was that planned?” You huffed.

She gave you a look as if you had asked a stupid question. 

“Why?” You grommeled, shrinking into the chair.

“Posture!” She waved her finger at you. You rolled your eyes but obeyed. “It appears Alastor is back from his sabbatical - which I was only made aware of yesterday when he came in here with a torn suit. I asked you here to create a pho-run-in with the Overlord so that you might be aware of his presence, considering the events of tomorrow.” She placed the tray on the side counter. 

“Wait…” Your ears perked up. Did you hear her correctly? You swallowed hard. 

“I didn’t get a chance to learn of his endeavors with the Hotel until this morning. He made quite a stir yesterday, and when Alastor is in a bad mood you tend to keep conversation short.” She snapped her fingers and a new tray appeared - tea steaming and ready to be served. 

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you. “Rosie, did you…” 

“Now, come to find my surprise when I learned that he had not just already met you, but already had suspicions of your power. He asked questions, Thestral, questions about you, and I…”

“Oh my God, Rosie!” You jumped to your feet, arms clenched at your sides. 

“What has gotten into you?” She stopped mid pour, a hand feigning surprise on her chest. 

“Did you just say that Alastor is an Overlord?” Your heart was beating at a million miles an hour now. 

Taking a breath, the woman who had become like a mother to you finished pouring your cup before she set the tea kettle back onto the tray. She took her cup and plate in hand before finally answering your question. “Yes.” 

You stopped breathing completely. “Fuck,” you mumbled before slowly melting back into the chair. 

Oh my God, how could you be so stupid! Of course the Radio Demon was more powerful than you could ever have imagined. Of course the Radio Demon was an Overlord. Of course an OVERLORD had to be the Hotel manager. Of course an OVERLORD had to sleep across the hall from you! All the planning you put together, all the research, all the preparation and now you had to deal with this! 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Rosie sipped her tea - jasmine, your favorite. 

Alastor had beef with the Vees. He pissed off Vox to the point that it overloaded his circuits and shut the entire grid down. No wonder you didn’t see him in the commercial. What Overlord would want one of his biggest enemies being able to capture him using his greatest asset of surveillance - a camera. 

Sir Pentious came to challenge Alastor your very first day at the Hotel because he had heard that Alastor was back! Which meant the Hotel was now a target! Which made you a target! Alastor’s mere presence was attracting attention - attention you didn’t want and would inevitably get in the way of your plans! 

You had always been a behind the scenes type of person. Operating behind a mask was your specialty. Merely shedding the cloak was filling you to the brim with anxiety and now you had to deal with this! 

No! No! No! No! 

“Thestral you’re burning my couch,” Rosie scolded. 

Looking down, blue flames licked the seat’s plush arm rest. Silently cursing, you pulled the power back in and suffocated it, leaving behind a bit of blackened fabric.

“This is going to be a problem,” you spat through gritted teeth.

Now you knew why everyone was so afraid of him. 

“Why are you so surprised? I thought you knew by the way you were acting when you ran into him in my parlour. Actually, now that I think about it, you looked more smitten than… Huh!” Rosie gasped, her teeth growing into a smile. “Are you sweet on him?” 

Your jaw dropped. “What? No!” 

That was completely illogical! You, sweet on an Overlord!? Preposterous! 

“My dear, you’re blushing!” She practically sang. 

Your hands flew to your cheeks so fast you almost slapped yourself. “Just… What… I… Are you going to take my measurements or not?” 

Rosie laughed before pulling out a measuring tape. “Oh, I am going to dress you to the nines, tomato!” She gave you a knowing smile as she shepherded you to the block before a set of mirrors. 

“Rosie, I do not like the Radio Demon. If anything he poses a problem. A really big problem.” You stepped onto the block as she circled you like a vulture. 

“I am pulling out all the stops for you! Two new dresses, maybe a couple pair of those trousers you adore so much, and definitely a few ideas for a night out on the town. Just in case.” She winks at you in the mirror. “And new shoes too! Those little heels are done for.” 

“Rosie… Just..” You sank your face in your hands. 

She stopped immediately. “What’s wrong, darling? Talk to Auntie Rosie.” 

Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, releasing as much anxiety as you could with it. 

Things were a lot easier when you operated in the shadows. 

You faked a small smile before pulling the money clip from your pocket, trying to turn the conversation to something you could handle. “At least let me pay you this time.” 

Rosie’s face turned into one of determination and pride. “You got it back from Crim, didn’t ya’?” 

You pulled your other hand from your pocket to reveal the black calling card. “Indeed I did.” 

_______________________________________

You took your time heading to the Entertainment District, letting Rosie’s words simmer within your brain. 

The Radio Demon was an Overlord and a mysterious one at that. He disappeared seven years ago, only to magically reappear recently under the guise of Charlie’s Hotel Manager. 

Funny how Lilith also disappeared seven years ago. Funny how this Extermination just so happens to be a special one. 

But before Alastor took his paid time off, it seems he was quite the shit around here. That at least explains the radio broadcasts: the incessant screaming of souls Alastor plays at whim. You had to admire that part. The man had class, he had art, he had theatrics. You just killed and walked away, not wanting the media spotlight, but Alastor? He thrived off of it. He was a walking entertainment broadcast dependent upon the attention of others. 

God, and his ego? You didn’t even want to start down that road. No wonder he got so pissy when you didn’t cower before him like thousands of others do. Fuck, the only one not afraid of him is Princess Morningstar - not because she considers herself more powerful than him but because she is naive. Alastor would kill her in a heartbeat if it meant accomplishing his goals.

Speaking of, what were his goals? Surely he didn’t wish to climb the ladder of hotel management. Alastor wasn’t an assistant type of guy. He had to be the boss. So whatever plan he has, playing make believe with the Princess has put him in a superior position despite what it appears. 

Was that it then? Was taking down Charlie his endgame? But why? Charlie doesn’t rule, she doesn’t utilize her power, she doesn’t do anything. She just kind of hangs out with Vaggie and cleans up chemical spills and hugs trees and shit. She wasn’t someone all powerful to target and take down - not like Lilith. 

Wait. Fuck. Lilith.

That’s what this is about. He disappeared seven years ago with Lilith and he’s back now because of Lilith. 

So get to Charlie to get to Lilith, but what does Alastor want with Lilith?  

So entranced in thought you finally realized you were heading in the complete wrong direction and had stumbled into a part of town you had never been. 

A window of television screens suddenly shifts to a bright yellow light. “Voxtech Angelic Security coming soon!” The ad chimes along with the new Voxtech logo sprouting a pair of wings. 

That was going to prove a problem for your late night activities. Not that anyone has ever really been able to capture you on camera before. You're a mass of black smoke when you fly and a dark hooded figure with glowing yellow eyes when you weren’t. Hell, the entirety of Pentagram City thought you were a dude. A little sexist but whatever… 

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath before turning down an alley you were hoping was a short cut. 

“That fucking, fuck!” Vox comes flying out of a side door, trying desperately to tie his bow tie which has now become a knot around his neck. 

You would have hid, you would have turned around and ran the moment you saw him, had he not run right into you. 

Vox’s back slams into your shoulder, knocking you to the ground. The media demon turns on you, his one eye glowing red, a look of pure wrath flashing across his screen. 

“Watch it!” He bites.

You give him an exasperated look before climbing to your feet. Great, now this dress is truly ruined! Your right hip is covered in black dirt, and there’s a tear along the hem. Rosie is going to kill you. 

“You ran into me,” you brush your skirt. You didn’t snap at him, you simply stated the truth. 

The demon is taken aback. How dare you speak to him like that! Did you not know who he is? 

“You want to repeat that again you, little…” He stops mid sentence, his attention drawn to the hand you were extending him. “What are you doing?” 

You gesture to the bow tie, nonchalantly, “I had a lot of brothers growing up. I got good at tying ties and bow ties and you look like you could use some help.” You nod to his left thumb, thoroughly stuck in the knot. 

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, staring at you as if you had just sprouted a second head. When he doesn’t respond, you roll your eyes and begin unraveling the silk around his neck. The demon stiffens beneath your touch, freezing in place. You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head as you worked. 

It was a simple red bow tie, the slipperiness of the fabric made it difficult to get the ends even, but a few twists and you had it back to normal. You even closed the distance, folding the band around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt. 

He doesn’t have that aura of static like Alastor does nor that sense of coldness which hangs about his shadow. Really you expected more similarities between the two, given that they were practically each other’s counterparts. But here, now, you didn’t get the same feelings being around Vox like you did the Radio Demon. Actually it was lack thereof. 

It was probably just Vox’s lack of power. Really and truthfully you meant it when you said Vox is only ⅓ of an Overlord. Without the other Vees, he isn’t a threat. Alastor? That man was full power in only one suit. 

Wait… why were you so focused on comparing him to Alastor right now? 

“There,” you slapped your hands against your thighs. “Ta-da!” You gave him a show of jazz hands before continuing down the alleyway. A shiver runs down your spine as you could feel his gaze still on your form. God, he’s such a creep.

“Hey! Wait!” The media demon calls after you. 

You roll your eyes before spinning, cursing under your breath. 

The look on Vox’s face made you pause. Was that…? You sniffed. Curiosity? No, that wasn’t quite right. You sniffed again, not able to place the emotion. You’ve never really smelled anything like it before. 

The demon clears his throat, suddenly self conscious. “Can I at least offer you a ride to wherever you’re going… as a thank you?” He crosses his arms in front of him, taking a few slow steps in your direction. 

Fuck that. The last thing you wanted was Vox to know anything about you. Anything at all. 

“No, thanks,” you spin again and…

“Can I at least know your name?” He tries again.

Ugh! 

“Why?” You bite, your hands finding your hips. 

The demon looks confused before his screen flashes back to a neutral face. He smiles and it’s far softer than you expected, “I just want to know the name of my savior.” He chuckles. “I got a little mixed up back there and am grateful for your services in fixing the situation.” 

Okay… You’ve never actually seen Vox be nice before. This was weird. 

Your eyes trail his form from his shoes to the broken antenna atop his head. You’ve never actually seen the media demon in person, but he cleans up well. The suit was nice but the hat was a little corny. No one wears top hats anymore. Also, his head is a flat television screen, how does that thing even stay up there? 

“Uh, no.”

He blinks. “No?”

“Yeah, no.” You repeat. Was he dumb? 

He scoffs, “do you know who I am?” 

You spin, not daring to stop this time, “yup!” You waved to him over your shoulder, not looking back. “Bye!” 

______________________________________

Vox sprints through the door, the wood vibrating off its hinges. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Velvette snaps from her place on the couch. 

“I don’t know…” The media demon slams his hands against his desk, a look of madness on his face as his one eye blinks red. “I didn’t get her name…” He whispers to himself. 

“Who?” Velvette smacks her lips against a lollipop, a loud ‘pop!’ with each suck. 

“The most beautiful creature in Hell…”

Link to Chapter Three!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[luckybyler]

My observations on the VR game re: Byler, including a couple of things I haven’t seen mentioned yet

I just saw part of a game walk through on YouTube (I can’t afford VR), and hoo boy!

1. The Mike that says El is so amazing and Will wouldn’t get it isn’t the real Mike, it’s the Mike that Vecna shows Will to terrorize him: In Chapter 3, Vecna possesses Will. Will resorts to a happy memory (Mike and him in Castle Byers), where Mike gives him a a ViewMaster. Will starts playing it, but Vecna makes every memory awful, full of spiders and particles. He distorts scenes, showing things like everyone ditching Will after calling him weird and other things that blatantly didn’t happen. Then he tells him he’ll show him suffering and shows that scene where Mike talks about El while particles fall down.

2. Will is confirmed to be a human being with wants and needs of his own: During that scene, Vecna goads him to tell Mike how he feels, and that he doesn’t want to meet El at all. At this point Will and El hadn’t met in the real world, and Will didn’t wish harm on her or anything, he just didn’t want her to be there, which is a normal and natural thing to feel about your crush’s hypothetical crush.

3. Vecna’s full of shit: In chapter four, Vecna tries to possess the four boys from the Party, and fails. He tells Dustin he puts double the effort into the friendship than the other three boys do, but Dustin turns him off with the TV remote (is Dustin’s happy memory watching tv?). Then he basically tells Lucas “you’re black and people judge you for it”, but he’s in a memory of a movie date with Max (at a drive-in theatre somehow) watching happy memories of the Party. Lucas does see the monster (so it somewhat hits?), but Max says it can’t do anything and they easily shut Vecna down. He also taunts Mike by telling him he’ll never see the most awesome person he’s ever met (El) and it’s his fault because he didn’t try hard enough, but he’s in the middle of a DnD battle with the boys and doesn’t even pay attention. A couple of dice bring Vecna down no problem.

4. Mike lovingly tends to Will’s nosebleed: Vecna does almost succeed in possessing Will, but he’s with the boys playing DnD, and Mike soon realizes Will’s nose is bleeding. He takes Nancy’s shirt and uses it to clean the blood/attempt to stop the bleeding, and admonishes Lucas and Dustin for not going to get a towel. Notice that in season 1 the boys saw El have nosebleeds and Mike was never as precious about it, unless she passed out of something and then they all helped. Lucas and Dustin are even heard in the background pointing out that nobody dies from a nosebleed. There’s a funny moment when Vecna tells Will he will always be alone right as Mike sweetly asks him if he’s ok while holding his face.

5. Brenner is training Vecna (???) and points out that he’s full of shit: I don’t know if this means anything for the show’s canon, but it’s interesting. Before Vecna tries to possess the boys, Brenner points out that they’re too young and untroubled, and afterwards he makes fun of Vecna for losing against children, again.

6. Will isn’t the weakest link, he’s the link Vecna knows best: Brenner points out to Vecna that the reason he could possess Will easier is because he already knew him (from the Upside Down) and knows the nature of his fear. When Vecna tries to possess Will, he does tell him to help him find out about Lucas’, Dustin’s and Mike’s fears, and actually asks him “what is Mike afraid of?”, indicating that he knows jack shit about them. Which leads us to:

WHERE THE LEDE IS BURIED:

7. LOSING EL ISN’T MIKE’S BIGGEST FEAR. OR SOURCE OF GUILT.

It might be a fear or regret of Mike, but it’s not THE fear.

Turns out Vecna was attacking Lucas, Dustin and Mike based on superficial knowledge, suppositions and stereotypes (Dustin’s the newest of the group, Lucas is black, Mike met El), not an actual, deep knowledge of their minds. Yes, good memories helped them keep Vecna at bay. Yes, those things Vecna told them might bother them. No, those aren’t the things that are at the core of their fear and guilt, or the right angle to drive them to either the dark side or suicide if pushed about them enough.

P.S.: At some point (that I haven’t seen yet, Max tells El that she doesn’t need to be a superhero all the time, that she’s more than fine as Jane, her friend. I think this might be literal, as in, superpowers are not the key to defeating Vecna. This is a psychological thriller disguised as supernatural horror, therefore the weapons to defeat him might be more psychological.

TL; DR: Vecna will be defeated with the power of Cognitive Behavioral TherapyLove and Friendship.

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 8

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

.............................................................................................

‘Good to see you, Agnes. Hope this wasn’t too much trouble.’

Ananya was sat in Jude’s car, on the way to his house. They had Saturday off and decided to spend the day together. Second proper date, exactly a week after the first one.

‘Not at all, ma’am. Good to see you too!’

‘Please call me Ananya.’

The chauffeur smiled - a well mannered, sweet, middle-aged gentleman. Then proceeded to tell her how Jude had also insisted to be called by his name, stating that Mr. Bellingham sounded like his grandpa. 

‘Haha yeah that’s him.’

Agnes nodded, smiling fondly, encouraged by her interest.

‘He’s a fine young man. Always considerate. Sometimes too much so. Thankfully, his mother is around to manage his affairs. She’s the one who hired me.’

Normally, Ananya may have found such a mother-son dynamic & dependence problematic. A yellow flag even. But here, it seemed wholesome. A sweet Mama’s boy. 

She wondered what his mother would be like. Then quickly dismissed the thought & the panic that generated. Too soon.

Agnes kept chatting along the way, sharing small titbits on Jude’s fan encounters - both sweet & crazy ones.

When they were about to reach, she felt a strange bout of anxiety. Last week had been heavy. At work & personally. Especially that rotten article & the aftermath. She fixed her attire & makeup to beat the nerves.

But when she opened the car door and saw him waiting on the porch, looking dashing in his off white jumper & joggers, flashing a million dollar smile, the anxiety evaporated.

Jude closed the distance in big strides. And she all but ran into his outstretched arms. How much they had craved this warmth & comfort all week. 

His lips grazed the top of her head. She smiled into his chest. Man, he was tall, towering over her.

‘Hey beautiful.’

She sighed, and craned her neck up to look at the smiling boy. 

‘Hey you.’

He leaned down, cupped one side of her face and placed a lingering kiss on the other cheek.

When he was about to lean in again towards her slightly parted lips, he saw Agnes standing uncomfortably on the side, carrying her bag & a parcel for Jude.

‘Thank you, Agnes.’

Jude took the items in one hand, while his other hand remained around her waist. She hid her face in his chest in embarrassment. The sound of his kiss still ringing in her ears. 

‘We’ll be here a while, pls take the day off.’

Agnes nodded & left quickly as Jude led her into the house. The place looked different in the day - colours bright & visible with the ample natural light flowing in. 

‘The weather is nice - wanna chill outside?’

‘Sure - just gonna take these off first.’

She bent down to remove her boots, wincing as the material scraped against her skin.

‘That bad huh?’

‘Oh it’s a torture chamber in here.’

She hated stiletto heels with a vengeance. But her roommate insisted this particular pair went perfectly with her attire and accentuated her butt. 

Jude was hoping she kept them on. They looked stunning with her black tights. But that was before he knew they hurt. 

He fetched a bag full of hotel slippers and laid it in front of her. She raised an eyebrow at him & he shrugged casually.

‘Kinda horde ‘em. Comfy.’

And man were they comfy. She found a pair that almost fit her and practically moaned in relief. 

The backyard was cozy, with an outdoor pool, a covered gazebo and open garden.

They went to the gazebo and settled down on adjoining loungers, turning to their sides to face each other. His tall frame barely fit on it, legs dangling over. 

Jude asked her about home, family & friends in India. And listened keenly as she chatted away, making mental notes to google a few things he didn’t understand. 

He learned that she was a classical dancer, had grown up in Delhi and was a junior debating champion. And that she was one of her city toppers in high school. Her university stories particularly intrigued him, given he never got to go. She was also preparing to go to Stanford for an MBA in a few years & was working on her application. She was friendly with many but had a close set of core friends, much like him. Family was front & centre in her life too.

‘Must be tough, living away like this, all on your own?’

A tinge of nostalgia flickered in her eyes.

‘Am getting used to it.’

Jude reached over & stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, then let his arm rest on her waist, playing with the hem of her deep purple sweater. 

‘Your brother, older or younger?’

‘Older.’

‘Football fan?’

‘Nope. Out & out cricket person. He plays also.’

‘I played too, in school. Am not bad. Back home in Brum, quite a few cricket fans.’

‘Good for you.’

They fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in the early Nov Spanish sun. She closed her eyes, enjoying the siesta. 

Jude couldn’t follow suit. Kept admiring her peaceful face. She deserved the respite, after backbreaking work & also what he had put her through. The media circus had taken a life of its own after that god-awful piece. But neither wanted to bring it up, determined to make today a happy day. 

His gaze moved lower. To her slender neck. Grazed by a few loose strands from her messy bun. And a delicate golden necklace. 

Few minutes later, he spoke up. 

‘Listen, I know we said we won’t tell anyone.’

Her eyes flew open.

‘Yes. We said it’s for the best.’

‘Right. But, can we make one exception?’

‘Who?’

‘Jobe. He kinda senses something already, said I was being cagey af. And, he can keep a secret.’

He waited, unsure of her reaction. She would have been more wary if it were anyone else. 

‘Look at it this way. At some point am gonna fuck up. Need someone sane for advice then. Gotta be him. He’s the smartest guy I know. Not you smart but still.’

She grinned, and he knew he had won. He seemed to have a way of making her give in. 

They had their lunch outside, not wanting to move from their cozy spot. The wine lifted the spirits further. Jude usually didn’t have much alcohol unless on a break, but he decided to make an exception today. The lunch, though, was a healthy salad.

When he refilled her glass the third time, she poked a finger in his chest.

‘Tryna get me drunk?’

‘Always.’

She giggled, the wine starting to have its effect.

‘Then why did you get mad at me drinking that day?’

‘You weren’t safe then. Here, you are.’

Warmth rose in the pit of her stomach, as she aimlessly fiddled with the fabric of the sofa.

‘I’d like a different nickname though. My folks call me Judey.’

Ananya groaned, remembering how she had said it out loud that night.

Jude chuckled & leaned closer, tilting his head, enjoying her discomfort.

‘You call me that in your fantasies or…’

She put her hand flat on his face & pushed him away, as he wiggled his eyebrows. His booming laugh ringing through the air.

‘I’ll come back on the nickname.’

‘Let’s see if it’s better than dove.’

She rolled her eyes. This wasn’t a competition.

‘How old are you, 5?’

He smiled at how she had used his jersey number instead.

‘Say yes once, and I’ll show you how old I am.’

Insinuation dripping, rather drooling from his voice, and she turned his face away again, this time to hide her fluster.

3 blissful hours passed in a jiffy. Conversation flowing smoothly like their wine. It was only when the weather got a bit rough that they moved inside. 

By then, the discussion had moved to who the bigger football fan was between the two.

‘Umm I kinda play professionally? For the biggest club?’

Ananya brushed it off. 

‘And I have been watching them religiously for 15 years. What’s your point?’

They decided to play FIFA to settle the debate. Then argued over who gets to pick Madrid. After a long discussion, Jude agreed to play with Dortmund, claiming he was giving her a head start, dodging the cushion she threw at him. 

‘What do I get when I win despite your advantage?’

‘IF. You mean IF.’

The casually cocky smirk returned. She wanted to smack that smug face. And….bite it at the same time? The boy was infuriating.

‘What do you want?’

‘You’ll wear my jersey.’

‘NO. Next.’

‘You’ll cheer for England when we play Portugal.’

‘You’re kidding right? Next.’

‘I’ll kiss you in front of that leech.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. How was he still on that? 

‘On second thoughts, you’re a pro. So no, you get nothing.’

‘Chicken.’

‘Shut it & play.’

‘Not gonna go easy on you, dove.’

‘Never asked you to. Gonna beat your sorry ass Irrespective.’

‘Oh we’ll see.’

They started playing, and she gave Jude a run for his money. Enough for him to come out of the second gear where he was casually relaxing. Enough to get his heart rate going & armpits sweating. So much that when he finally won, he did his trademark celebration, punched his fists in the air & woo-hooed around the couch doing his victory dance.

She stared daggers at him, gobsmacked at the loss and him rubbing it in. Almost hoping that he trips and falls on his ass. 

‘Told ya.’

He plopped next to her, smiling victoriously. Accent heavier in gloating. The gall of this man.

‘I had you in the middle, and you know it.’

‘Final result is what matters, and you know it.’

‘Tread carefully, Bellingham.’

She warned, still sulking hard. But of course he did no such thing.

‘What was it you wanted to do to my ass again?’

‘I hate you.’

‘A sore loser AND a liar? Whoa.’

‘That’s it. I am out.’

She got up to storm away but he caught her in two strides. Locked her arms around her waist. Caging her from behind. Giggling in her ear. She struggled fruitlessly in his grip, but dodged his attempts to kiss her cheek. 

The more she fidgeted, the more his hold tightened. Pressed flushed against his taut, hard torso, with him breathing down her neck, was not ideal for her to stay pissed. Or sane. 

When she quit struggling, he leaned down to kiss her covered shoulder.

‘So feisty.’

Jude muttered appreciatively, accent even thicker now. Her posture relaxed as she let herself loose in his arms. 

‘Truce?’

‘Fine.’

He released her, and they walked back to the couch, hand in hand. It was 4:30 pm, still chunk of the day left. They decided to watch something together.

‘You pick.’

Jude pulled her close, throwing his arm around her shoulder. 

‘You like rom-coms?’

‘Sure.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

He smiled sheepishly, turning his head to face her.

‘I mean, don’t mind ‘em.’

‘Let’s keep looking.’

She scrolled further in the trending list & landed on Bridgerton.

‘I’ve heard great things on this. It’s more than a rom-com.’

She figured he might like it, given the 19th century London backdrop. They decided to give it a go, settling against the back of the couch. Jude offered to watch in his room, the bed being more comfortable n all, but she politely wiggled out of that.

The sassy narration from Lady Whistledown immediately drew them in, along with the setting. The opening sequence with Daphne & Violet set the tone.

‘Ooh I like what she’s wearing.’

‘Ya it’s hot.’

Ananya turned towards him sharply, expression blank. 

‘I mean…like…y’know…’

She broke into a laugh sooner than she planned.

‘You can say that. She IS hot.’

Jude bumped their heads together, glad to come out of the hole he had dug for himself.

‘So is Anthony though. Distractingly delicious.’

Yeah, he deserved that.

‘Like that scene with the tree…’

‘Don’t push it.’

He pulled her closer still, squeezing her shoulder. She let it go, for the time being. 

The unique tone of the show kept them fairly engrossed. Yet they scoffed & laughed at the idiocy of some notions. Violet’s insistence on Daphne being prim & proper to attract a suitor, and keeping her in complete darkness of her sexuality particularly irked Ananya.

‘Typical. Treat women as decorative porcelain dolls in public view and sex objects / baby making machines behind closed doors. That’s all they are good for.’

‘Yeah, my country was stupid.’

Lady Danbury turned out to be a hands down fav of both - her wit & presence of mind unmatched. The courtship episodes they breezed through, giggling at the rigid & formal dance sequences of the genteel society.

‘Do you dance like that?’

‘Like that? No.’

Something told her there’s more to it. 

‘CAN you dance, at all?’

He shook his head, waving his hands in the air.

‘It’s a tall person handicap.’

‘Isn’t Cama as tall as you?’

A pregnant pause, for 3 seconds.

‘He’s not actually.’

Jude removed his hands from her & sunk into the couch. She hadn’t even meant to tease this time, was just curious. Ananya leaned into his side & tugged at his elbow. 

‘Wanna dance with me sometime? I could show you some stuff.’

That got his attention. He stopped pouting when she caressed his arm.

‘I am learning Salsa, it’s quite fun.’

‘Well, I can be quite a handful.’

‘Oh I can handle you.’

His smirk returned, as did his arm around her.

‘Can you now?’

They bickered & flirted, then resumed watching. Time flew by as they binged through, managing to squeeze in an early dinner when they felt peckish. Neither wanted to call it a night, not yet. Too cozy and carefree in their little cocoon.

Episode 4 & 5 had them firmly sucked in, with the engagement & marriage drama. 

Episode 6 though, hit her like a truck. Making her hyperventilate.

Ananya squirmed through the emotionally & sexually charged honeymoon scenes, while his fingers stroked her upper arm throughout. She felt his eyes boring into her but kept hers firmly ahead. The air had suddenly turned hot & heavy, not just behind the screen.

‘Maybe..that’s enough for today? It’s getting late.’

‘Sure.’

The screen paused at the couple in a passionate embrace, as they made love outside, in the rain.

Another pregnant pause. 

‘Tell me, how didn’t she get that he wanted her all along? It was so obvious.’

Jude’s hand moved up and down her arm, slowly. She felt every touch through the thin fabric of her sweater. 

‘He could be with anyone he wanted. She doubted how she could be the chosen one. IF she was the chosen one.’

He turned her slightly to face himself, her eyes glued to her fumbling hands. 

‘She got him TO HIS KNEES. Man was tortured by her thoughts. Surely, she could see that?’

‘Even if she did, it would be hard for her to believe. That…that he would just…change his ways. Just like that. For….her.’

His index finger tilted her chin up, gazing into her glossy, tentative eyes. His voice certain, laden with promise.

‘Men change when they find a reason to. He found his.’

That hit her deep in the heart.

‘I…SHE….she may not know that.’

His thumb moved along her jaw, eyes firmly locked with hers.

‘How should he show her then? Other than saying it a 1000 times already?’

‘Jude pleas..’

Her voice died in her throat when Jude hooked his arm under her legs and pulled her on to his lap, setting her sideways on his right thigh. Her arms went around his neck instinctively, to steady herself.

All pretexts and charades were dropped as he linked their foreheads together. His warm breath fanning her face. The heat radiating from his body, his proximity, burning her to the core. A culmination of all their little looks, touches, whispers & innuendos exchanged during the day.

‘KISS ME. Before I go mad.’

His commanding, raspy voice did things to her. Unspeakable things. 

‘Now, dove. I know you want to.’

She met his gaze, and found a hurricane brewing in his otherwise serene eyes, sweeping her along.

Ananya cupped his cheeks, admiring his handsome features. Her lips brushed along his hairline, ending with a chaste peck on his forehead. Her thumbs stroked his eyebrows & eyelids, back & forth. Eliciting a sigh.

Her fingers ran down his cheeks, caressing the moles & tiny zits. Covering them with butterfly kisses. Jude couldn’t remember when he was last touched so affectionately. When he last wanted to be touched like this.

She kissed the tip of his nose, & his lips puckered up, thinking they would be next. The girl had other plans. 

She held his jaw & tilted it upwards, running her fingertips over his soft yet scratchy beard that ran deep into his neck. His long, tempting, seductive neck. Driving her wild.

Her fingers dug into the flexing, meaty muscles at the back of his neck as her mouth traced the length of it.

‘FUCK!’

He groaned loudly, both hands gripping the couch, hard enough to rip.

She continued her ministrations, too hypnotised to stop. 

Jude had vowed to be patient tonight. But when he felt her teeth on his Adam’s apple, he decided playtime was over.

He grabbed the side of her face, pulling it to him. 

She whined at the interruption, trying to go back down. His grip tightened.

‘ENOUGH. My turn.’

Jude kissed her fiercely, knocking the wind out of her chest. As if getting back for the slow, sensuous torture. She tried matching his passion, but Jude wasn’t willing to cede control, not tonight. 

His hand removed her clutcher, rummaging through her hair. While the other one stroked her thighs. She gasped, and he plunged further into her mouth. His scent, his breath, his strong hands, his taste, his god damn thighs under her butt, his ferocity -  drove her nuts.

Being the sole object of Jude’s desire was, quite simply, INTOXICATING. 

Subconsciously, she wondered if all the other girls before her had felt the same. Or if this was indeed different, as he repeatedly claimed. 

He soon pulled her out of the momentary coherence by fisting his hand in her hair & pulling them back, as his mouth feasted on her neck.

She mewled as he nipped & sucked her with abandon, soothing the reddened skin with his tongue afterwards.

Jude was testing waters, pushing boundaries, to see how far she’d let him go tonight. 

His sinful voice joined the party.

‘Tell me where you want me. Say it.’

She could only whimper in response, mind too mushed up to string together words.

‘Here?’

He pulled her sweater down one shoulder, kissing the bare skin, tugging at her bra strap with his teeth. 

‘Or down there?’

The hand on her thighs slid under her butt, cupping a cheek, kneading it firmly. Something he had wanted to do all day.

She panted into his neck, unable to function under his expert moves.

‘Feels good, baby? Want more?’

She jumped when his warm hand slid under her sweater, settling on her bare back. Large, strong fingers spread over her skin, playing with it, thoroughly covering the surface area. Making her shudder from head to toe. 

Jude wasn’t unaffected either - the feel of her soft body making his restraint hang by a thread. What he wouldn’t give to just toss her over the couch right now. 

His touch became more frenzied. Mouth more demanding. Hand inching further up her back, finding her bra. 

She grabbed his bicep, coming out of her reverie. But it just spurred him on. 

She somehow tore her mouth away from his, to get his attention.

‘Ju…ude.’

It came out as a shaky, breathless moan instead, flipping something in him. The next instant, her bra was unclasped & his hand roamed freely all over her back.

The sensation jolted her. She needed to act now, before he completely eroded her will.

Her hands grabbed his face, desperately, dragging him up, meeting his stormy eyes.

‘Wha..’

He looked dazed, confused at the interruption. Lips parted, half-panting for breath.

She stroked his cheeks while his adrenaline tapered down.

“Baby I….can we…pls….’

His senses recovered, and Jude pulled her gently into a loose hug. Swaying her lightly. Stroking her hair. While making shushing noises. 

‘Okay. Okay. Anything you say, dove!’

................................................................................

All this Jude content just makes me write :)

A happy chapter, after the heavier last one.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / feedback. Hope you are liking the story & these two. There are a few dif ways this could go ahead, trying to figure!

[wa1kerbait4592]

planet of the apes 🦧

dude… i have now seen the new kingdom of the planet of the apes in cinema twice and the first time around i wasn’t all that impressed and i left the theatre kinda disappointed but the second time around i left a little more impressed and a little less disappointed.

the movie was still weak compared to the first three films, (the rise, dawn and war) but im glad it was made.

as a whole i believe this franchise is criminally underrated on multiple different levels. The poetic nature of the films is something i don’t think i would ever articulate or write on paper to perfectly capture how beautifully made these films are, they are just chefs kiss

proximus caesar was a funny villain that i think deserved more screen time and back story, it makes me kinda sad to think that we wont really see his character again.

the symbolism that links all four films together is incredibly well done and throughout the entire series there are crumbs of the films that came before them, which is a part of the reason why i love these films so much. i like how they made noa so similar to caesar, not only in his appearance but in his characteristics. i like to believe it was intentional that noa and caesar (particularly in dawn of the planet of the apes with malcolm) cautiously but willingly trusted a human. noa is so incredibly similar to caesar it would be criminal to suggest otherwise.

dude these films are so visually well done you almost forget you are watching cgi. the visual effects alone blow my mind but the accuracy and attention to detail when it comes to the mannerisms of the apes is out of this world and deserves more recognition. in terms of cinematography planet of the apes have always been amazing at beautifully capturing emotions from all the apes and even better at showing the wonders of a post-human run world. the forests and surroundings that the apes find themselves in continue to amaze me, especially in this newest film were we see a variety of different landscapes.

as much as i am growing to love kingdom of the planet of the apes, i feel as though we could have waited for noa and his story. i think cornelius and the others that were left behind after caesars death deserved a closing chapter. i would have loved to know how the community handled the loss of their leader and saviour and how they all moved on. also i feel as though we needed back story on how the apes separated and became different clans spread all across the continent. as an example i would have also loved to see how the misinterpretation of caesar and what he stood for became so strong and wide spread, as well as why noas clan and their elders knew nothing of caesar or chose to leave him out of their history. there were a lot of open ends and unfinished stories that deserved more screen time, but in saying that, that could mean an eternity of story telling that everyone may not want to see.

at the end of kingdom of the planet of the apes they left it open for another film which i am looking forward to seeing where they take story line. are they going to fully circle around to the original films were they capture more humans and start to use them as slaves or will the story begin to get repetitive? i hope repetition won’t sneak its way into these films like is has with so many other franchises, but we can only hope right?

anyways-

long live monkeys… i love monkeys and we need more monkey movies

also- i know i don’t really do this sort of this thing on this account but i was beginning to genuinely tweak if i didn’t word vomit my thoughts on these movies <3

[beesmygod]

"YOU HUNTED" IS A TERRIFYINGLY IN DEPTH WORK-IN-PROGRESS BLOODBORNE LORE EXPLAINER/CRITICAL ANALYSIS

DOWNLOAD FREE HERE! (direct .pdf link)

INTENDED TO BE READ AND ENJOYED BY BOTH HARDCORE FANS AND THOSE WHO ARE JUST CURIOUS! DEEPLY RESEARCHED, ENTERTAINING, AND NOT EVEN REMOTELY CLOSE TO BEING DONE!

*this newest version is currently 55 pages long and covers:

pthumeru, cainhurst, and the foundation of byrgenwerth

the old hunters, the fishing hamlet, and caryll's runes

martyr logarius, forsaken castle cainhurst, and pthumerian saints

laurence, the healing church, and great isz

each chapter is punctuated by an author's note giving context to the upcoming section and includes a glossary of uncommon terms. i have also updated all of the links (except a few) to lead to bloodborne-wiki instead of the fandom wiki as well as updated the special thanks page to include DSAnimStudio.

if you enjoyed this and want to help me justify the amount of time i've spent on this, i have a ko-fi.

you can find out about my other work here.

please enjoy what a truly rotted soulsborne fan's brain can cook up. i don't want to talk about how much time this is going to take or if its a good use of my time on earth. i have not solved bloodborne, but so far i have presented what i think is a very solid timeline thus far.

[letsgetrowdy43]

The Littlest Hughes☆—

Welcome to my Quinn!dad au

This is gonna be used as the master list where I will post all of the links to updates/requests/blurbs/new chapters/insta edits

Everything will also be posted under the #thelittlesthughesau!!

This au will follow the life of Quinn Hughes and Honey (Reader/Mama Hughes), as they navigate parenthood and raising their three kids within the Hughes family.

Requests are always open!!

☆ my fav thoughts (the rest are under the #thelittlesthughes!!)

Honey's University Era Meet the Littlest Hughes (all three kids) Meet the supporting cast (important characters in the universe) The Littlest Hughes House Uncle Jack and Luke thoughts (Made pre-Maeve) Introduction/ timeline (Made pre-Maeve) Soft Dad!Quinn thoughts Captain ceremony Quinn's OT Goal Hayden's birth — Continued The blossoming of Lexi and Honey's friendship Warren and Quinn after the Canucks are eliminated in round 2 (2024 Playoffs) Hayden has a nightmare Quinn can't make it to Hayden's Daddy Daughter dance Honey's 43 tattoo — Quinn is obsessed Meeting Maeve! Honey's decision on Maeve's Godfather's Some kids lore Hayden comes out to her parents — Hayden comes out to her Uncle's A little more discussion of Hayden and her sexuality!! Warren deals with the Media

☆ fics/blurbs

When Honey falls in love (Rowan's Version) Heaven on earth Say yes to heaven An unexpected surprise What to expect when you're expecting Stop your worrying Oh Captain, my Captain Family dinners and childhood dreams Jingle Bells Summer's Embrace Vegas Nights Late-night fights — continued Life at the lake: Romantic getaways Sunburns and scrapped knees Ms. Innocent He’s precious The Greatest Two's company, three's a crowd Deck the Halls Rocky Mountain High My sweet boy Never Grow Up (Rowan's Version) From Eden

☆ instagram edits/ mood boards

Introducing Mr & Mrs Hughes Proud Wife Happy birthday Q How the Hughes brothers would wish Honey a happy birthday!! Most Wonderful Time of the Year The Battle of the 43s Honey Takes on the Dice & Ice Gala All-Star Week: Draft day Welcome baby Hayd Playoffs: Games 1 Round 1 Happy Mothers Day Thank you Vancouver Vegas Baby Happy Father's Day my love Daddy daughter day Life at the lake: a series of photos Life at the lake: summer of love Trick or treat Business Awards The Newest Addition

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[yandere-sins]

pls feed us with more rhys headcanons. nsfw or sfw !! - 🌙 moon anon

I've had that request in my asks for so long because I always wanted to write more but also had emotionally closed Rhys' chapter on this blog, but he is and always will be my fucking menace baby and I do have some more thoughts to share ;;♥

(Also tagging @glacierleice because I know you love him just as much! ♥)

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Daily Rhys ☀️

♡ For someone who prioritized being a social butterfly and well-liked all throughout his young adulthood, he is actually a big homebody. Rhys forced himself outside all the time, to parties and outings, just so he could keep up his image of the cool guy, but once he settles with you, he's quickly turning out to be an introvert. It's easier to watch over you this way, and he seems comfortable hanging out with you all day, almost looking sad when he has to go out without you. No one would know since Rhys keeps up being friendly and approachable outwardly with customers and neighbors, but he only cares for you, so why would he go out? He's very crafty, not just when using ropes for your restraints, but also for fixing broken machines and making you new furniture. You'll never have to go without enough space on shelves because Rhys will immediately get his things to make you a new one! You might not appreciate the creativity of his tools and projects when he uses them to punish you, but for everyday life, they are very handy!

♡ Rhys is obsessed with your hands. Hand-holding, comparing hands, watching your hands as they work on something—he loves all of it! He'll hold your hand at all times, even while he sleeps. Or play with your fingers while watching a movie, rather than fidgeting with his own. Most of the time, he has to force you, but he'll become grumpy if he doesn't get to nuzzle his face into your palms once a day, dragging them to his face if he must and cupping his own cheeks. In winter, he makes sure to moisturize them for you, linking your fingers playfully with a big grin as he puts hand cream on. Every morning, he slips your wedding ring on your finger, kisses it reverently, enjoying the peace it brings him. And he gets mighty upset over every little paper cut or worse. Your wrists, on the other hand? If they aren't raw from his restraints, he'll make sure to get them bloody, latest when the shop is closed, and he gets to drag you upstairs—screaming and crying—to the apartment.

Nightly Rhys 🌙

♡ It is an obvious fact that once Rhys got his hands on a Shibari book for the first time, it became his new favorite pastime. You look divine, strung up and hung from the ceiling, like his beautiful little angel descending from heaven! He takes the few moments he has before he has to take you down to memorize the image, rarely using a camera as the pictures never come close to the true sight. Even when you're crying, sobbing, or wincing in pain, he can't look away, too mesmerized by it. If he does take photos, he has a habit of wanting to show them to you and discuss how beautiful you are from every angle, handling it almost as if you two were browsing through an old photo album of memories. Rhys always keeps the newest picture somewhere on his person in case he's feeling down and unable to be with you right away, the beautiful sight of you bringing a smile back to his lips as he kisses the paper softly, deciding to practice a new pose that night.

♡ One would think he's really overly kinky, and he has his moments where he catches himself thinking bizarre stuff. But his favorite position? Missionary. Hands tied to the headboard over your head, legs spread widely so he can push every inch of himself into you, and either you wrap your legs around voluntarily, or he'll put them in place over his thighs. His arms are on either side of your head, hands beneath it so he can keep you from straining your neck as you two kiss to the point of breathlessness. Your bodies are rubbing tightly together, the warmth mixing as you can both feel each other breathe, nipples brushing against each other, and he can see the glorious face you make as he stimulates you to the point of orgasm. Later in life, Rhys rarely comes first, too mesmerized by the sight of your ecstasy and unable to reach orgasm unless he watched yours. At the end of the day, you are his whole life's purpose, and if he can see you happy just a little bit, then he, too, can feel the same happiness.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending (A Chaconne Story): Chapter 2 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Ahead of your first rehearsal with the Los Angeles Symphony, you become reacquainted with Maestra Agatha Harkness.

Word Count: 4.6K

A/N: Helllooo, welcome to chapter 2 of The Lark Ascending! This chapter features a very, very special piece that I strongly recommend giving a listen, I'll link an earlier post with the video. I'm going to try to do updates around every 2-3 weeks but it will sadly depend on my schedule. I'd also like to give a special shoutout to 🫂 anon, who told me of an idea they had of Agatha using her baton to secure her hair back. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the inspiration, I hope I did your idea justice. As always I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think :)

Danzón No. 2

Previous Chapter

The head of marketing for the orchestra, Pepper Potts, motioned to the promotional materials laid out in front of you. “So what do you think?” 

Squinting, you tilted your head to look at it from a different angle, taking it all in. They were certainly…interesting. Your face had been blown up on all of them, some featured you holding or playing your violin. 

“Um….” You trailed off, trying to keep your tone cheerful. “Well, they’re a little different from what I was expecting, but they look nice.”

The last time you spoke with Pepper, you had explained how you were more interested in focusing on the music than yourself, you had even brainstormed on a few different campaign ideas. At the time you thought it had been a productive conversation. 

“I know they’re not what we originally discussed, but we’ve found that interest groups respond better to a face, or rather, the face of what we’re trying to promote,” Pepper explained, laying out a few different options in front of you. “As our newest artist in residence, you are the face, the center focus. We’ve been trying to appeal to a wider audience, as well as a younger audience. This is the perfect way to accomplish it.”

“What she means to say is, your original idea was boring. But she’s too professional to say that, isn’t that right, Pepper?” Tony chimed in from where he was sitting on the opposite side of the room, scrolling through his phone. 

Pepper let out an exasperated sigh, shooting Tony a glare. “That is not right, Tony.” She gave you an apologetic smile, something she appeared to be used to doing. “Just ignore him. Everyone else does.”

Tony checked the time on his watch, before turning his attention back to you. “If we could wrap this up in a few, is there anything else we need to cover?”

Pepper glanced at her tablet, shaking her head. “We’ve gone over everything as far as marketing is concerned.”

“Fantastic,” Tony said, standing up, stretching his legs out. “Let’s get those materials finalized before next week’s Donor Gala.” As he began walking to his desk, he paused, snapping his fingers. “See if we can get Harkness to conduct something? Something more modern, maybe, but not funky Glass modern. The donors will love that. She’s so much more entertaining to watch than Strange.”

“Well that’s not too difficult to accomplish when the man conducts like he’s performing surgery,” Agatha drawled out, and you jumped at the sound of her voice. 

The door to Tony’s office was now wide open as Agatha came strolling in, followed closely by Tony’s assistant.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I told her you were still in a meeting,” the woman profusely apologized, giving Agatha a terrified glance before adding, “but she wouldn’t listen.”

Tony waved off the apology, clearly unphased by Agatha’s behavior. “It’s fine, Sharon. Maestra! Please, come in. I hope you’ve found everything to your liking?”

“You know me, Tony, I’m not particularly picky,” Agatha replied, enunciating every last syllable as she gave you a simmering glance that resulted in you blushing and looking down at your feet. “But I must say, I’m rather enjoying my time so far.”

“Have you met our artist in residence?” Tony prompted, and you suddenly realized he had no idea of your history with the conductor. “Peps, why don’t we get a photo of the three of us for socials? Ask that one intern for a caption, she’s pretty clever. Kamala, I think?”

Pepper sighed in defeat, fishing around for her camera. “Don’t call it socials, Tony.”

Tony then turned his attention to you, as you finally broke the rather intense staring match with Agatha. “Y/N? Have you had the pleasure of meeting the Maestra?” 

Oh have you ever, you thought to yourself. Agatha merely smirked, arching an eyebrow as you stammered for a moment. “I, um, you know it’s funny you mention that, actually. I used to work for her.”

Both Tony and Pepper appeared to be equally surprised with that revelation, and the CFO’s face lit up. “You’re kidding. What a small world!”

“Y/N was my assistant a few years ago, right before she moved to Vienna,” Agatha interjected, still gazing at you with a look you couldn’t decipher. “I’ve been…quite proud of her accomplishments since.”

She was proud of your accomplishments? You knew she apparently watched a video of one of your last performances; you were curious if she had seen anything else (while also wondering why she never bothered to reach out). 

“Rather high praise coming from you, Maestra,” Tony said, folding his hands across his chest as he leaned against his desk.

“Well I wouldn’t have been able to have done any of it without Agatha,” you insisted, various memories of late night practice sessions with the conductor rushing back in nostalgic flashes. “She mentored me while I was still her assistant. She always believed in me, sometimes even more than I believed in myself.”

Tony nodded, and you watched him silently brainstorm as an idea hit him. “That’s it. The Maestra and her protegee. Who wouldn’t want to see a series of concerts with one of the most beloved conductors and her former mentee turned rising soloist? Pepper?”

Pepper was already typing on her tablet, nodding along to Tony’s words. “Already on it. I’ll book a shoot for promotional materials, and we’ll have the press release ready by the end of the week.”

Tony folded his hands together, grinning as he looked back and forth between you and Agatha. “Outstanding. What a lucky coincidence you happened to be in LA, Maestra.”

What a lucky coincidence indeed, you agreed, giving Agatha a curious look. The conductor shrugged her shoulders, her usual poker face hiding whatever emotion she was feeling. “What can I say, it must have been fate.”

Tony started rambling on to Pepper about various ideas for both the Donors Gala and marketing, all whilst you found yourself getting lost once more in the enigma that was Agatha Harkness.

Eventually, you found yourself back in the concert hall right before the start of that evening’s rehearsal. The meeting with Tony had been rather successful, even if your obligations now included doing a handful of press and events with Agatha. How the conductor felt on that subject matter was a mystery to you, as she remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, offering only the occasional sarcastic, witty comment whenever Tony suggested something particularly outlandish. 

Now, as you walked with your violin case in hand, you once again thought about being reunited with Agatha after all this time, as it forced you to think about your feelings for the conductor. Even after all this time, it felt as though a large part of your heart was reserved solely for her, and you weren’t entirely sure what to do with that information. Agatha wasn’t exactly the most open individual, and last time you nearly had to wrestle her feelings out of her. Plus, who’s to say she even feels the same way- you knew a lot could change in five years. 

As usual, you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now, you just need to focus on getting through your first rehearsal, and worry about your relationship with Agatha later.

You greeted a few musicians you passed, and you nearly froze as you saw someone very familiar waving at you. Standing in the front row with her violin case was your friend and formed stand partner, Monica Rambeau. You stayed in touch with the violinist after you moved to Vienna, but she never mentioned coming to LA. Running up to her, you set your violin down before embracing her in a hug, fully in disbelief she was here. 

“Monica, what are you doing here?” You breathed out, grinning at your friend who smiled back at you.

“The MSO is off for the summer while they remodel the symphony building, so a few of us are filling in out here for the season,” Monica explained, and it was then that you noticed one of the MSO flutists, Dottie and the principal cellist, Hope, up on stage.

“Dottie certainly looks happy,” you noted, watching the flutist enthusiastically chat with a few members of the orchestra on the stage. 

“I think she’s looking forward to having a break from Harkness,” Monica admitted, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one else was listening before adding, “not that Maestra was even around for the majority of the season to terrorize her.”

You felt a twinge of pity at the mention of that. Poor Dottie. Agatha did seem to get some sadistic form of pleasure from tormenting her. But it was the latter part of Monica’s sentence that caught your attention, and you gave her a curious glance. “What do you mean she wasn’t around for the majority of the season?” 

Although you and Monica had stayed in touch over the past few years, you made a point to never ask about Agatha. While Monica never knew about your relationship with the conductor, she at least knew not to bring her up whenever you talked.

Monica shrugged, grabbing her sheet music from her bag. “She was traveling a lot this year, and missed a lot of rehearsals. You know how she gets. Anytime someone would ask where she was, she would change the subject and find someone new to pick on.”

It didn’t take much effort for you to picture that particular scenario. “That certainly sounds like Agatha.”

“A few people think she’s looking for a job with a different orchestra,” Monica quietly told you. “But between you and me, I think she’s seeing someone.”

You froze in place, choosing your next words carefully. “Seeing someone? Why would you think that?”

“She seemed different whenever she’d come back,” Monica explained as she gently grabbed her violin from its case. “Happier, or as happy as she can be, I guess.”

You fell silent at that, trying to keep your facial expression neutral. Was Agatha dating someone? Was it serious? Is that why she came to LA? The questions began to pile on in your brain, the biggest of all being why did you even care?

As if Monica sensed your discomfort, she changed the subject. “So, have you met Strange yet? I’ve heard he’s pretty straight-laced during rehearsals.”

Strange? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the question, until you remembered you never told Monica the news of the change in music directors. 

Clearing your throat, you nervously bit your lip. “Actually, Monica, I should have mentioned this earlier, but Stephen isn’t conducting-”

The all too familiar sound of clapping rang out from the entrance of the hall, cutting you off as everyone turned their attention to the noise, and you were unsurprised to hear frantic whispering at the sight of Tony Stark eagerly conversing with a brooding Agatha Harkness.

The conductor had changed from the outfit you last saw her in earlier that day, opting for a pair of black dress slacks and a violet button down. Her dark brown hair messily fell over her shoulders. In one hand she lightly grasped her baton, while a few music scores were held by the other. 

“Orchestra!” Tony called out, motioning for everyone to gather around him as he walked to the center of the stage. “Unfortunately, Maestro Strange will be taking a personal leave of absence for the duration of our summer season. But I’m very pleased to announce our interim conductor will be none other than Agatha Harkness. She’ll be taking over for the time being, so any questions or concerns are to be directed to her.”

From where you were standing, you watched Dottie’s face turn a sickeningly pale shade of white as Tony went on about what a fantastic marketing opportunity this was for the orchestra. 

“I’m going to turn it over to you now, Maestra. I think you’ll be pleased to see a few members from your orchestra are filling in for the summer,” Tony informed Agatha with a grin, giving her a final handshake before exiting through the side stage doors. 

Agatha leisurely strolled to stand on the podium, her music dropping down with a loud thud as she twirled the baton between her fingers. “Good evening, orchestra. I understand all of you on the West Coast tend to enjoy your relaxed, Erewhon smoothie drinking, sandal wearing, kumbaya lifestyles, but I have a lot to get through tonight. So, I would like to formally invite those of you not on stage to please grace the rest of us with your presence.”

“Sorry, I should have told you sooner,” you whispered apologetically as Monica stared in disbelief at the sight of the conductor. “She ambushed me earlier when I was practicing.”

“It’s fine,” Monica insisted, carefully managing to hold her violin and bow with one hand, while grasping her music with the other. “I’ll see you after rehearsal, good luck!”

While the rest of the orchestra filed on stage, quickly taking their seats, Agatha's eyes scanned the rows of musicians until she stopped, fixating on the empty chair directly to her left. “I see we’re missing our concertmaster? What a pity.”

As you settled in a seat towards the front of the hall, you noticed Dottie squirming uncomfortably in her seat. Unfortunately, Agatha also took notice, and you watched her shark tooth grin widen. “Dottie, I must say I’m rather surprised to see you. I don’t know if I should be more flattered or alarmed, are you stalking me now?”

A strikingly tall woman with jet black hair suddenly appeared out of nowhere, taking a seat next to you, as she gently opened a violin case on her lap. “She’s certainly something, isn’t she?” 

Cocking your head to the side, you frowned. “Who?” 

The woman nodded to the stage, where Agatha was still berating an increasingly embarrassed Dottie. “Harkness, she’s a bit of a wild one. Quite different from our usual Maestro.”

You nodded, watching as the mysterious woman applied a generous amount of rosin to her bow, before carefully placing her now empty case under the seat. “She’s definitely one of a kind. I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” the woman quipped, a knowing smirk on her lips as she stood up. “Our esteemed artist in residence. I caught your performance with the Boston Philharmonic last winter. Your interpretation of Mendelssohn was…surprisingly tasteful.”

You weren’t sure if she was insulting or praising you, but you chose to believe the latter, offering her a polite smile. “Thanks, and you are?”

“Hela Odinson,” the woman introduced herself as she towered over you, giving your shoulder a brief squeeze before she turned away, adding, “now if you’ll excuse me, I have an orchestra to tune.”

Sauntering on stage, Hela cordially nodded to a few of the violinists who said hello to her, making her way to her seat at the front of the section.

It appeared Agatha also noticed the late arrival, as had she paused her verbal rant, curiously eyeing the violinist. “Nice of you to join us, Odinson. I see time management still isn’t one of your strong suits.”

“Well we can’t all be deranged tyrants, Maestra,” Hela playfully fired back, settling in her seat as she placed her bow on the stand, using her free hand to adjust her shoulder rest. “Some of us don’t feel the need to adhere to strict schedules.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Dottie nearly fall out of her chair at Hela’s comment.

Rolling her eyes, Agatha’s grip on her baton tightened, eyes narrowing. “It’s always such a treat to speak with you, Hela.” Tapping her baton on the stand, she waited for the side chatter to stop. “Orchestra, your revered Mr. Stark has requested our presence at next week’s Donor Gala. So, we’ll be switching up our rehearsal schedule. We’re starting with Márquez.”

Dropping her baton on the stand, she stalked off the stage as the orchestra began to tune, the sound of winds, brass, and strings filling the hall, making her way to where you were sitting. 

“I thought you said Stephen was sick,” you reminded the conductor as she approached you.

“A personal leave of absence is just that, dear, personal,” Agatha waved off your concern, “I promise it’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over.”

She looked at you and for just a moment it felt like nothing had changed, as if you were still her assistant and you hadn’t spent the past five years apart. You used to love sitting in on rehearsals, always eager for any excuse you could to watch Agatha conduct. Although you’d never willingly admit it, heaven knows her ego didn’t need it, you failed to find a conductor you enjoyed working with as much as Agatha. While most conductors shared the same stubborn, prideful qualities, there was no one quite like Maestra Agatha Harkness. 

But, as quickly as the bittersweet feeling came over you, it was gone again, and you were left with the reminder of how much changed, how much you’ve changed. Leaving you to wonder if Agatha has changed much too?

Taking a step closer to you, the conductor pursed her lips, humming to get your attention. “Did you hear a single word I just said?” The guilty expression on your face gave you away, and Agatha sighed. “I hate to do this, but I need to cut Vaughn-Williams today. You know classically trained musicians have difficulty with more…wild rhythms. I’ll need the rehearsal time to run the Márquez to beat every single last syncopated rhythm into their thick skulls.”

“It’s fine,” you insisted, and you should use the extra time to rehearse other music for the Gala, but you felt something urging you to do something else entirely. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay and listen? It’s been a few years since I last played Danzón, I’d love to hear it.”

As if she was somehow expecting you to say that, she smirked. “It’s funny you mention that, because I’m short a violinist today. I know you’re a hot shot soloist now, and I’m sure this is beneath you, but why don’t you sit in with them.”

It wasn’t a question as much as a demand, but you didn’t mind. You never did when it was coming from Agatha.

“I wouldn’t say it’s beneath me, but of course, Maestra. I’d be honored,” you accepted, turning to grab your violin from its case, and your expression fell as you saw a distraught Dottie slouching in her seat. “Hey, maybe you could try to take it easy on Dottie? She really isn’t that bad, you know.”

The once familiar scent of the conductor’s perfume, subtle hints of violet, jasmine, and sandalwood, overtook your senses as she took yet another step closer to you. “I know my memory isn’t what it used to be, but I seem to recall you used to enjoy being beneath me, hm?”

Of course she brought up the memory comment you made earlier, knowing the conductor she would torture you with it for all of eternity. You felt your face grow hot as you blushed, before remembering where you were. “Agatha…”

“Besides, I thought you liked how mean I was,” the conductor murmured, in reference to your comment on Dottie, as she stood far too close to you for far too long. “This is my orchestra after all, at least for the next few months.”

Agatha gave you an absolutely filthy wink, heading back to the podium. Raising her baton, she tapped the stand to signal for the orchestra to pay attention. “We’ll be joined by our summer artist in residence, Y/N, for the rest of rehearsal.” 

She paused as the orchestra broke out into a brief round of applause, and you dared to think she looked pleased at that reaction. After a few seconds she waved her hands to cut them off. “From the top, please.”

You were thrilled to find the open chair was next to Monica, and you grinned wildly. “It’s like I’m having deja vu.”

“I know, right. I’ve gotta say, Maestra seems happier than I’ve seen in a while,” Monica said coyly, giving you an inquisitive look. 

“What?” You whispered, wondering what she was implying. Surely Agatha’s good mood had nothing to do with you, there were a few things that occasionally made her happy. She always appeared happier after picking on Dottie, for example, or when one of the interns got fired. 

“Oh, nothing,” Monica innocently replied, getting the music ready. 

Agatha raised her baton, and the room fell silent in anticipation of her downbeat. Then it began, as her hands masterfully began to conduct, cueing in the solo clarinet, piano, and then oboe with a swish of her baton. You loved almost every piece of music you ever performed, but your heart always held a special spot for Danzón No. 2. Filled with sultry and exquisite melodies, it had several different tempo changes that required you to keep your eyes locked on the conductor. In this case, you had no difficulty doing that, as Agatha Harkness was the most engaging conductor you had ever met. 

You were always surprised at how well she was able to connect with any piece and make it her own, with every flourish of her baton and wave of her hands, it was as if she was the one composing the musical masterpiece herself. Danzón No. 2 was no exception, you realized, mesmerized at the sight of Agatha in her element after so long. There was a tempo change shortly after the start of the piece, and the conductor increased the speed of her baton, urging the orchestra to follow her with little difficulty. This was a particularly fun run to play as a violinist, and you allowed your muscle memory to guide you through the familiar rhythms and notes, as it had been a few years since you had last played it, bow moving in unison with the rest of the first violin section. 

As much as you loved being a soloist, there were few things that could compare to the feeling of playing in the violin section. Mastering difficult passages while your fingers moved completely in sync, counting every rest until you were cued back in, it was a special, tingly, heartwarming feeling that you hadn’t realized you had missed until now. 

One of your favorite sections of this piece was the violin solo, and you watched Agatha cue Hela in. The concertmaster was, unsurprisingly, extremely talented, as she used an impressive amount of vibrato on all of her notes, ringing out through the hall. It was a slow, seductive melody, and every shift of her fingers was exaggerated to draw out the intended luscious sound. As you counted the rests until the rest of the section came back in, you couldn’t help but notice the prolonged eye contact between the conductor and the concertmaster. You then thought back to their brief exchange at the start of rehearsal. Did they know each other? Is Hela the reason why Agatha seemed so happy?

The solo came to an end as Hela played her final note, and as Agatha cued the rest of the section back in, she did something you had never seen before. Using the hand not holding her baton, she pulled her hair back, twisting it into a bun before securing it with her baton. Both hands now free, the conductor took more freedom with the slower tempo, leading the orchestra through the gorgeous melody. As the strings took over, Agatha exaggerated her conducting pattern to encourage the orchestra to grow in sound. Closing her eyes to truly feel the beat, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, completely content with watching her in all her beauty.

Her eyes opened, suddenly, and they landed on you, her lips twisted upwards to form a rare, but genuine, smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, you had missed this; had missed her. You never stopped missing her. The moment was broken all too soon, as the next tempo change was approaching, and the strings went back to the background syncopated rhythm, Agatha beat out the faster tempo with her hands, baton remaining in her hair. It continued on, with the brass leading the rest of the ensemble to the home stretch, as the violinists did another run up the fingerboard. 

Embracing her dramatic flair, the conductor whipped the baton back out, her hair flying every which way as she furiously laid out the last tempo change, and the orchestra followed suit. A final piccolo and piano duet played out as the brass accompanied, and you were pleased that Agatha wasn’t glaring at Dotite at all. The rest of the piece was a colorful, loud blend of syncopated rhythms and passages filled with scales that were embellished, pushing the orchestra forward with every measure, unrelenting until they reached the ending. Agatha conducted the last beat with a final twirl of her hands, effectively cutting the orchestra off.

“That wasn’t half bad,” Agatha offered, flipping back through her score and making half scribbled notes with her pencil. “If we could go back to the beginning, I need to hear more of the oboe when they come in, so strings make sure you stay below that.” She turned another page back, making a huge circle, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, and Dottie I need you not to fall over, but that wasn’t terrible. I need more piccolo, so play out more…please.”

From where you were sitting, you noticed the MSO cellist, Hope, raise her eyebrows almost comically high from shock, and Monica stifled a gasp. Craning your neck, you watched Dottie nearly fall out of her chair once more, and you were happy for her. You knew Agatha meant well, in most cases, but sometimes she could take things a bit too far. 

In the back of your mind you were still wondering if she had something to do with Stephen’s sudden personal leave of absence, but when you looked back to the podium, those thoughts were swept aside as the woman who occupied nearly all your thoughts was looking at you expectantly, her baton lowered. She didn’t give Dottie a half-compliment because of you, did she? 

Her hair was still flying all over, as it was even more uncontrollable than normal, and you could make out the beads of sweat on her forehead from the effort of conducting such a fast-paced, intense piece. A rather intrusive thought popped in your head as you stared, reminding you the last time you had seen the conductor that out of breath and glistening with sweat was when you were naked in her bed with her fingers curling inside you as she counted how many times she could make you come. 

No, you could not reminisce on those particular memories now, you thought as you tried to keep the blush from spreading on your cheeks.

It hit you full force, for what felt like the millionth time, how much you had missed Agatha Harkness. But here she was, in all her glory, looking at you for some sort of response and all you could do was stare dumbly at her, trying to wordlessly convey every thought, every feeling you had bottled up for the past five years. 

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Agatha, grateful if she had indeed listened to you.

Finally raising her baton, Agatha gave you a wink, another one of those special, rare smiles on her face. “Let’s take it from the top!”

[avoicebehindthestars]

If We Each Did Half a Miracle

@phoen1xr0se I hope you don't mind a humble spot of unsolicited fanart. I couldn't resist the urge!

Okay, first, I haven't shared art in over a decade. Second, I haven't drawn anything since 2022! Lastly, this is probably the first time in my life I've drawn something that isn't manga-style.

And what ispired me to get all artsy was the absolutely fabulous fanfic There is a Light & It Never Goes Out by even more fabulous @phoen1xr0se The scene comes from the newest chapter of the story (in this AU Crowley has scars on and around his eye; and yes, Dog is absolutely crucial there - if you read it, you know why :D).

I might colour it one day, but the lineart alone took me almost 2 weeks and I haven't coloured anything digitally since 2012 (seriously! I just checked!), so it would probably take me forever!

If you repost outside tumblr, please, please credit me and include the link back here <3 If you'd like to colour it, get in touch - I can provide you with a slightly larger version without the blue shade.