#peaceful he was being and came to the conclusion that he NEEDS to have a manga volume in his hands at all times. few minutes later.

[k1rishiki]

oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands

[bad268]

Frank Told Us (Colby Brock X Pregnant! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co

Requested: Yes by @eattothebeatt and anon. I hope y'all don't mind that I combined them, they were pretty similar. (Also, since I'm ahead on requests, I'm gonna post Wednesdays and Saturdays until it's cleared <3)

Warnings: slipping in snow (idk).

Pronouns: She/her

W.C. 1263

Summary: The Conjuring House is no joke, especially when a certain ghost (Frank) ruins a surprise.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

The Conjuring House was no joke, that was a fact that Y/n knew well. After going to the Conjuring House on three separate occasions with Sam and Colby and being witness to some crazy things, she didn’t need any convincing of that.

This time was one to top the charts. Ever since Sam and Colby heard about Satori and Cody, they knew that they wanted to meet them and get their expertise on camera. So Y/n decided to go with them. However, one thing happened about a week before the flight that may have changed the trajectory of the trip.

Y/n missed her period.

She took a test and met with her gynecologist, and they both came to the same conclusion. She was pregnant. She was not super far along, a little over a month, but she was not sure if she should go on the trip. After talking it over with her gynecologist, they decided she should be fine as long as she stepped away when it got too much and did not put herself in dangerous situations. She knew that if she had told Colby that they were expecting, he would abort the whole video, and she knew she did not want to be responsible for that

So they arrived at the Conjuring House. Sam and Colby in the front and Kat and Y/n in the back. Satori and Cody said they would meet them there, so they did not worry about getting a bigger car.

“Are you guys ready for this?” Sam asked enthusiastically as he pulled into the driveway.

“Are you ready to get another attachment?” Kat snapped back jokingly, causing Sam’s jaw to drop and the rest of the car to laugh.

“No need to come for my brother like that,” Colby defended, turning back to point a finger at Kat.

“You should definitely put this at the end of the video,” Y/n added, directing everyone’s attention to the camera that was recording.

“Anyway, what’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby,” Colby started the intro.

“Today, well, this week, we are at the Conjuring House with Kat and Y/n!” Sam continued.

“These guys get 10 million subscribers, and we get dragged into this,” Y/n laughed gesturing to Kat as they climbed out of the car, so Sam and Colby could do their intro in peace. The two walked into the house and greeted Satori and Cody. The four made small talk until Sam and Colby came into the house.

“I see you made yourself comfortable without us,” Colby teased as he sat next to Y/n on the couch and laid his arm over her shoulder. “Do we know how we're going about tonight?”

“I think we’re just letting Satori and Cody do their thing and we’ll go with the flow,” Y/n explained as she leaned into Colby’s side. “What do you guys think? It is your video.”

“I think that’s fine,” Sam said, setting up the cameras. Kat started pulling out different gadgets and placing them around the room.

“We’re ready to start whenever you guys are,” Satori offered, moving to stand up with Cody. Colby stood up as well before he turned back and held his hand out jokingly for Y/n to stand up.

“Well, thank you, kind sir,” Y/n joked in a mock posh accent.

“You’re welcome, governess,” Colby joked back, causing the two to chuckle before turning serious again. “Ok, back to the task at hand-”

Hours later, Satori and Cody were still getting so much in response. It was nearing midnight at this point, and they were still nonstop. After the third hour, Y/n got a huge headache, and it did not prove to be a problem until the knocks started getting louder.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get some fresh air. My head hurts,” Y/n announced as she stood up and walked out the door, not waiting for a response. Kat immediately said she would follow Y/n and trailed behind her as they walked through the snow carefully toward the car.

“Are you okay? You’re really pale,” Kat asked as they leaned against the hood of the rental car.

“I have a huge headache, and honestly, I need to tell someone,” Y/n admitted and let out a sigh before saying, “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed excitedly, reaching out to hold Y/n’s hands. “You’re serious? Oh my god, I’m so happy for you guys! Does Colby know?”

“If I told him, he wouldn’t have let me come,” Y/n laughed as Kat pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad I finally told someone. I’ve been keeping that to myself for the last week.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed again. She was too excited because when she jumped away from the car, she pulled Y/n with her and they both lost their footing. “Woah!”

“Ouch! Kat!" Y/n laughed as she landed on her back in the snow with Kat leaning over her. They were laughing like maniacs despite knowing that one or both of them could have been seriously injured. “What the hell? You’re crazy, get off me.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Satori and Cody kept at it with Sam and Colby, teaching them along the way. The first person they connected with asked about Colby, so Satori and Cody took back over. 

“Way to go, Colby,” Sam jokingly scolded. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Colby joked back.

“You want to talk to Colby?” Satori asked as was met with a knock immediately. “Okay, what is your name?” She went through the alphabet and found the name they were spelling out. “Frank? Yes. Colby, do you know a Frank?”

“Not off the top of my head,” Colby answered, “Who are you to me?” Satori started the alphabet again and the knocks spelled out:

“Grandfather? No, Great-grandfather? Yes,” Satori interpreted. “What message do you have for Colby?” The knocks started back up and what it spelled caused a chill to run down everyone’s spines. “Protect? Protect who?...Y/n. Protect Y/n from what?”

They did not get an answer as they heard shouting from outside, causing Colby to bolt out the door immediately.

“Y/n?” He shouted, not caring that it was midnight. His ears were ringing, and his heart stopped when he saw Y/n laying in the snow. He could not breathe, and he could not register that the girls were laughing and not in danger. He slid down to be down by Y/n’s head as he held her hand. “Holy shit, are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“All good, Colby,” she laughed, pushing Kat off her as she stood up. Y/n inspected the snow around her as she felt around her stomach,  “I don’t see any blood and I don’t feel any pain, so I think we’re both good.”

“Yeah, you and Kat look fine to me,” Colby sighed as he took Y/n into his arms.

“No, not Kat, no offense,” Y/n retorted before looking up at Colby as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She whispered, “Me and the baby.”

“Baby? Whose baby? My baby? Our baby?” He asked so quickly Y/n could not keep up with him as he held her at arm’s length before cheering loudly when she nodded her head. He ran back to the house to tell Sam only to find Sam, Satori, and Cody standing at the doorway. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah, Frank just told us.”

~~

Part 2 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[hoony2k]

SWEET CRAZY LOVE!

things enha does that make your words stutter, face heat up and heart sick with sweet crazy love.

PAIRING: 7/7

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: skin ship, mentions of chaste kissing

NOTE: hiii everyone! I went though emotional turmoil and I came to the conclusion that took several weeks but I am back and will clean and organise the blogs soon! until then, here's dinner.

★ HEESEUNG: a listener

Just one look at him and it's so evident that he's the type lean forward to hear people better. It starts with a small curious and innocent "hm?" And then he'll lean towards you and tilt his head downwards even if you're at home without environmental noise. If you stand on your tiptoes to whisper something in his ear, he'll automatically bend his knees so you can reach his height comfortably. (That heejake video is canon idc). The worst part is that he doesn't even know what he's doing because it comes as an instinct, being taller than most of his friends, so he doesn't even have the slightest clue how your stomach does backflips when he tilts his head closer to yours to hear you. The proximity combined with his perfume…killer.

★ JAY: late night whispers

Has the softest expression on his face when you talk about random things. He's so engrossed that he doesn't notice your pause as you admire the gentle look in his eyes, full of love and the soft smile he wears when he gazes at you like that. It looks like he's going to fall asleep any moment but his eyes aren't full of sleep but something more precious. It only occurs when he's completely vulnerable and feels safe around you. He looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky and painted the night- just for him. In those peaceful moments, he's just staring deep into your eyes while you try your best to entertain him and not make eye contact as if your life depends on it (it does).

★ JAKE: subtle tender actions

His attention and care reside in the way in which he goes out of his way to protect you. It may seem natural but you notice how he always pulls you to the secure side of the pavement and walks near the road, during meals he places the most delicious item on your plate mid-conversation, keeps extra gloves and platform shoes for you in his car, zips your jacket for you. Notices when someone cuts you off and slowly brings you back into the conversation while eyeing the person (if it was intentional). No matter what he does, his focal point is to ensure your happiness and safety. It's the sweetest thing ever and fills you with love knowing you can rely on someone like Jake.

★ SUNGHOON: skin on skin

It's like he needs to hold/touch you or else he won't be able to function. Not necessarily in a sensual way. It comes to him as easily as breathing. He slides his hand into yours when you're sitting, plays with your fingers and then brings your palm to his mouth to place a soft kiss. He enjoys your flustered state and is aware of his hold on you but it's all about love, not authority. He wants you to be close to him, as physically as possible, although he attempts to appear non-clingy. Pulls you nearby the loop of your jeans, and rests one hand on your leg and the other on the steering wheel. If you're preoccupied, he'll come behind you to wrap his arms across your form and kiss the crown of your head. He loves you, so why wouldn't he want to embrace you, hold you close, and feel each other's heartbeat?

★ SUNOO: secret admirer

He has this undying desire to observe you do your usual tasks. Whether it's wearing your makeup, doing your skincare routine, doing assignments or even when you're watching tv- he'll be admiring you from the side, cheek squished against his palm, eyes twinkling- he is NOT ashamed or shy about it. He has no reason to be, you're his lover and he can not fathom how you exist. Admires each minuscule movement and commits it to memory. Sometimes you'd complain you can't focus and he'd laugh it off and tell you to not be dramatic…doesn't take him a couple of minutes to resume. On days when you're far too gone to do anything for yourself, no self-care, wiping off makeup, too tired-he'll do it all for you with ease and with surprising practice. He knows how you do it after all.

★ JUNGWON: eye contact

There is no way he's having a conversation without making eye contact. The eye-eye-mouth ratio is crazy because while you're scrambling to seem normal and not as if your face is seconds away from heating up he's staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Casually brushes your hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear mid-conversation, he pauses his words just to let his soft fingers graze your burning skin, momentarily blanks out as he admires you before his mind circuits him back to the moment. Then he thrives off the pure adrenaline rush in seeing your resolve melt. Also sometimes twirls your hair strands in his fingers mindlessly as he speaks for added heart-thumping effect.

★ NIKI: everywhere I go, I see you

Niki loves silently, but brightly. He's got pictures of you in his wallet and smiles every time he opens it up to pay, which is often because he doesn't let you pay at all. Mostly because he believes you shouldn't have to worry about this stuff on a date when you should be having fun and also because it gives him an excuse to see his favourite picture of you. Changes the picture each month, your outfit and pose would differ but your smile stays the same and so does the flutter in his heart. He treasures things irrelevant things you give him like tissues with your lipstick stains stuffed in his jackets, a collection of a couple of polaroids are stuck next to his bedside, an unopened toothbrush waiting for you if you ever spend the night, but the most precious item is the necklace of your initial he hides under his collar.

thank you sm for reading!

all rights belong to hoony2k. please do not translate/edit/copy.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Twin Fire Signs

Summary: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: language, drinking

-------

—

You were drunk. 

There wasn’t really any denying it now, just like there was no denying that you were alone without any of the people you came here with. It took a complete lap of the bar and waiting outside of the bathrooms for an eyebrow raising amount of time for you to accept it, but it was an inevitable conclusion now: your team, your squad, had ditched you. By the looks they had exchanged in the ready room in the tower, you were sure the invitation had only been extended as a courtesy and that none of them had expected you to actually say yes. Which was fair, because up until this point, you hadn’t. But you decided to accept on a whim, high off the adrenaline from the phenomenal flying you had just done, mixed with a lapse in judgment and a previous night of feeling particularly lonely. You had been off-brand craving social interaction. Now, you were regretting it and remembering why you preferred being alone. They had bought you a few shots, and all it took was a quick trip to the bathroom for you to come back and all of them be just…gone.

You never should have let your guard down. 

There was a reason you had declined nearly every invitation from them to go out for drinks, and it wasn’t because of your desperate need to keep work separate from your private life. You knew the people on your squad were assholes, and you knew they didn’t like you all that much. You were the lone Lieutenant Junior Grade amongst a squad of Lieutenants. On top of that, the first woman of said rank to not only make it there, but be handed the trophy at the end of Top Gun. 

You were good. Very good. You knew it, and so did the rest of the squad you had been assigned to when, following your win, you were transferred from Corpus Christi and stationed at Top Gun permanently two months ago. You had come in and blown them all out of the water, and none of them particularly liked it. 

You should have known that something like this would happen tonight. 

You tried not to let it bother you as you plopped down on a barstool. The bartender, an older man tattooed from his bald head to the tips of his fingers, slid a glass of water in front of you with a roll of his eyes. You gave what you hoped was an appreciative thank you and hiccuped as you took your first sip. After downing half the glass and a handful of bar pretzels, you fumbled with your phone, looking through several rideshare apps to see which one would get you the cheapest and quickest ride home so you could sulk in private. 

You were debating if the extra ten bucks for a ride that would show up five minutes quicker was worth it when your screen switched over to an incoming call. Your eyes widened in shock at the name staring up at you. 

Lieutenant Seresin

Oh no. Oh no. 

It was almost 10pm on a Friday night and Hangman was calling you. And you were drunk. He hadn’t come out with you all tonight, but that wasn’t uncommon. If you were an outcast in one regard, he was an outcast in another. Your squad wanted little to do with you, but they worshiped him. But instead of humoring them, he spent the majority of his time with the special squadron he was also assigned to, who were spread out amongst other teams on base. 

You didn’t think that he'd said two words to you that weren’t criticism or a challenge since that day. So why the hell was he calling you now?

You considered not answering and letting the call go to voicemail. You stared at the name for so long weighing your options that the screen darkened as the vibrations stopped. You heaved out a sigh of relief, only to squeak in surprise when the phone started vibrating again. 

You tried to take a deep breath when you answered, a slightly high pitched “Hello?” being offered. You winced when it was quickly followed by a hiccup, and then another.

“Are you drunk?” 

Fuck.

“Um. Yes.” 

You winced at your answer. Being blunt was one of your many character flaws, but you probably could have tried to have a little more tact, considering who you were talking to. 

“Are you still at Lumpys?” 

“Yes,” you answered automatically, but your brows furrowed as your alcohol soaked brain processed his words. “Wait. How did you know that?” 

“Are you okay?” he asked, completely ignoring your question. The bar was so loud around you that you had a bit of trouble hearing him, but that last tequila shot must have done you in, because you could hear annoyance, certainly, but you thought maybe you heard concern, too. You took a gulp of your water to try and clear your mind, because there was no way. 

You must have taken too long to respond because he snapped out your name, your first name, and you almost gasped at the sound of it. You don’t think he’s ever actually said your name before; the deep timber of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. 

Oh no. 

Now was not the time for your thoughts to run away from you into that territory. 

“I’m drunk,” you said dumbly. 

You could practically feel the pause on the other end before he let out a sigh of your call sign that sounded almost angry. 

“Are you safe?” he asked, since you hadn’t directly answered his question on being okay. You took in your surroundings with a long glance, your normal ability to clock everything delayed. 

Lumpys wasn’t the nicest place. You had never even heard of it before tonight. It was dark and loud and smokey despite the laws prohibiting it in California. It definitely wasn’t a military bar, that was for sure. You wondered for the first time why the rest of the squad had chosen this spot when the Hard Deck was so close to base, as well as two or three other bars that were frequented by uniforms not of the biker variety. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when you realized that maybe they had done that on purpose, because you were coming with them and they knew they wouldn’t stick around. From the end of the bar, the bartender glanced at the water in front of you to see if a refill was needed before rolling his eyes again and looking away as he cleaned glasses. 

“Well,” you drew out, pushing down the unwanted emotions suddenly hitting you. “I can’t decide if the bartender is a giant tattooed teddy bear or a gang enforcer. Could go either way, honestly.”

He cursed on the other end and you thought maybe you heard the sound of a vehicle starting. You weren’t really sure, thinking maybe the loudness of the bar was making you hear things, but then his next words affirmed it. 

“Don’t move. I’ll come get you.” 

Your eyes widened and you sat up straighter in the barstool you had been slumped over in. “Wait, what?” 

“I’m coming to get you.” 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I was about to get an Uber or something-” 

He said your first name again, and it set butterflies loose in your stomach that you tried desperately to catch and put back in the box they came from. His voice lowered into something gentle, a tone you hadn’t heard in weeks from the fellow aviator. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in 20, maybe less.” 

You thought about arguing with him and insisting that that wasn’t necessary and you could make your way home just fine by yourself. Even if you were sober, you’d have been in charge of finding your own way home tonight. Quarterback had given you a ride from base after work, and you had assumed you’d be able to catch a ride back, too. But he was long gone with the rest of your squad. 

“I…okay,” you finally said, accepting your fate. 

He hung up without a goodbye, and you were sure if this was a regular phone call, you’d roll your eyes at how rude the gesture was. But all you could focus on at this point was the sound of your name in his voice and the fact that he was apparently coming to get you. 

You were fucked. 

You chugged your water, some of it spilling down your chin in the process. When you set the glass down it was with a little too much force right as the bartender walked by. You winced at the annoyed look he shot you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. He refilled your water with a glare and without a word, moving onto other customers before you could say anything else. You took another gulp of it with a grimace and then set your head in your hand, taking in a deep breath. 

Your team leader, Hangman, Jake, would be picking you up from the bar, because the rest of your squad had abandoned you after you had taken a few too many shots. 

The same one who you had more respect for than anyone else, who you’ve also maybe harbored a crush on since you came to Top Gun, and who had barely looked at you since you almost kissed four weeks ago.

Great. 

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a legend in the small population of aviators in the US Navy. He was truly the 1% of the 1%. You tried to model a lot of your own career and techniques after him. It helped that you seemed to be similar on an instinctual level, and you had the same indifferent attitudes. Standoffish, as some would say. You both knew you were good, too good to be true in a lot of ways. You had earned the right to have the attitude. 

You had been thrilled to be assigned to the same squad as him. You were excited to learn as much as you could from him, to befriend him. And that’s what it had been, at first. The two of you flew together well, and it translated on the ground. He noticed the similarities too, and didn’t hesitate with sharing notes and advice with you. He was so passionate and intelligent about what he did, and that’s what drew you to him first. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t ashamed of it, and that had attracted you more than anything. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt, though. 

You had taken to spending time together between hops, and eventually, started talking about more than just flying. It turned out you had a lot in common outside of the Navy, too. He was so easy to talk to. But then almost a month ago, you had been alone in the rec room, talking about the previous night's Cowboys game, of all things, when he had suddenly stepped into your personal space. 

His eyes had been dark and intense, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. The intoxicating combination of his cologne and the smell of jet fuel that you had started associating with him had been even more palpable that close together. You thought he was going to kiss you, to finally give into the tension you thought had been building, and you wanted him to. But then just as quickly as he stepped forward, he had pulled away, leaving you hanging and confused.

And you’ve been that way ever since.

After that moment, things had been different between you. He barely spared you a second glance when you were on the ground and criticized everything you did when you were in the cockpit. You had tried to speak with him, to understand what the fuck had happened, but Jake Seresin was just as good at evading on the ground as he was in the air. So you buried your feelings as deep as you could inside of yourself and tried to mark him off as just another asshole who wasn’t worth your time.

But damn if the alcohol and the way he said your name and sounded something like concerned didn’t have your heart racing and you questioning everything. 

A little over fifteen minutes and another glass of water later, a shiver ran through your body. You turned your head right as the door to the bar swung open, eyes meeting the unmistakable figure of the aviator occupying your mind. He wasn’t donning his usual khaki uniform or flight suit that you were used to seeing him in — snug jeans hugged his legs and a white shirt clung to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him so casual. Your lips parted slightly as you watched him look around. He stood in the entrance, scanning the room with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes finally locked onto you.

You raised your hand in a pitiful, unneeded wave, and in the dimly lit bar, you swore you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. He started making his way through the crowd to you immediately. You watched him with wary, cautious eyes. 

“You alright?” he asked. His demeanor remained stoic, but those intense green eyes that you had admired for so long seemed to hold a blend of concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher. From this close up, you could see the way they flicked up and down your body as if assessing for himself your current state. 

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling flushed under his scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

He gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to the bar. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet and slipped his credit card from the leather. Your eyes widened. 

“Wait, Hangman, no.” 

You scrambled for your wallet in your tiny small crossbody bag, but before you could get the zipper opened, your self-appointed savior waved you off and handed his card to the approaching bartender. You watched in defeat as the card was swiped and handed back and his signature scrawled on the receipt all in what looked like one smooth motion. Why had you not thought to pay your tab before he had shown up? You were never going to live this down. 

“Finish your water and we’ll go,” he told you as he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket. 

“It’s my third glass since you called me. If I finish it I can’t be held responsible for your upholstery.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words left your mouth. You rubbed at your temples with a groan, your face twisted into a disbelieving grimace. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that.”

To your surprise, Hangman let out a chuckle. Your eyes popped open in shock. His laughter was a rare occurrence in your presence these days, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly at the sound. Damnit.

"You did," he replied with a faint smirk, his stoic demeanor cracking just a bit. You groaned, and the blonde laughed again before he glanced around the bar, his expression settling back into something more serious. “Are you ready?” 

You slid off the barstool, feeling slightly unbalanced on your feet. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you. You sucked in a breath. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, the two of you just…stared. It was almost reminiscent of that day. But then a bottle broke from a few feet away, shattering the moment — whatever it was — right along with it. Hangman cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.” You thought maybe you saw the faintest hint of red creeping up on his neck before he turned away, and your mind struggled to rationalize it. 

Once you were outside, the cool night air hit you, and it was a welcome relief. You breathed in deeply as you followed behind him to where his large black truck was parked. You knew from one of your conversations before that he had boughten it last year when he was stationed in California after only ever leasing vehicles before. It was a way for him to establish roots now that he was given the opportunity to settle in one place. 

The lights flashed as he unlocked it, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get in. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was really how your night was going. You chanced a glance at the man holding the door open and he raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the hold up was. You could have laughed at the irony. It took you a second to realize that you had. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, and you felt the heat of embarrassment in your face. 

“Nothing,” you muttered, and you turned away before you could say or do anything else to make a fool out of yourself. 

The leather seats were comfortable when you clumsily climbed in, and the interior of the car was immaculate, crisp and clean just like you often thought he was. It didn’t surprise you a bit. Hangman settled into the driver's seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he started the engine. He handed you his phone to put your address in and as country music played quietly over the speakers, he put the truck in drive. 

You didn’t know what to say, and Hangman seemed content with the quiet. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove, the muscles in his arms flexing with every turn of the wheel. You couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like around you, holding you against him. It was a dangerous thought, and you shook it off before it could take root.

You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the seat as you let the wind from the open windows cool your skin. The effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off, leaving your mind clearer, but no less confused. Being in his presence like this was still throwing you for a loop. 

Why had he dropped everything and shown up for you tonight, after doing everything professionally possible to avoid you for the last month? Why had he ignored you to begin with? 

Why did you even care? 

Neither of you spoke the entire way, and all the questions in your head were like a stoking fire that was rapidly sparking by the time he turned into your apartment complex. Instead of dropping you off in front of your building, he pulled into one of the visitors spots and put the truck in park. He didn’t kill the engine, though, and you wondered if that meant something. 

For a moment, you both just sat there, staring straight ahead. You could feel the tension between you, slowly but surely simmering. You knew the smart thing to do would be to get out of the truck. Thank him for coming to get you and go inside, and then come Monday morning, go back to the same routine. You knew you were capable of it — you had mastered the art of indifference years ago.

“Think you’ll make it upstairs?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You frowned at his choice of words, feeling just the tiniest bit offended. You knew how it looked, being drunk and alone. But he was the one who took it upon himself to show up. He had no right to judge you. You couldn’t help the scoff you let out. 

“You didn’t have to come get me, you know. You didn’t have to call at all.” 

His eyes widened before they squeezed shut, and it was almost like he realized the tone of what he said. You shook your head with a sigh, suddenly so unbelievably tired. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you mumbled. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leant down to grab your purse from the floor. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Hangman’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could open the door. You turned to look at him and found him staring at you intently, his green eyes dark and brooding.

“Wait,” he said, his voice urgent and rough. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you?” 

He said your name in such a way that you knew nothing would follow it, the blonde at a loss for words for once in his life. 

"How did you know where I was?" you blurted out, the words escaping before you could censor them. But the question had been plaguing you since he called, so you didn’t backtrack. You felt like you had a right to know. 

You could see the tension in his jaw before he spoke. “Quarterback.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Quarterback told you where I was?”

“Yes.”

“Did he call you, or….?”

Hangman let out a long sigh, tilting his head back to rest against the seat. “The squad was at the Hard Deck like they normally are, being obnoxious —” 

“Like they normally are?” you couldn’t help but interrupt. He cracked a half smile, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes as he dipped his chin in agreement. Your shared tolerance level for the other members of your squad was something you had discussed at length before. 

“Like they usually are. I asked them where you were, since you were the only one not there and I had heard you tell them yes earlier. He told me they left you at Lumpy’s. They thought it was funny.” 

You nodded slowly, processing the information. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting, just a little bit, that they went as far as going somewhere out of the ordinary just so they could leave you there and make you the punchline of a joke. You let your eyes close and sulked in the feeling for a brief moment. You didn’t need these people. You didn’t even particularly like them, outside of being in the air. But damn. You swallowed thickly and shook your head, as if to completely dislodge the feeling. You supposed them ditching you wasn’t necessarily surprising. You knew how they felt about you, just as they knew your opinions, too. What you were surprised about was that Hangman had bothered to ask about your whereabouts in the first place. It was almost like he cared. Almost.

“So why’d you come?” you asked, still trying to understand. “I could have gotten an Uber.” 

For a long moment, he just stared, and you looked right back. His expression was hard to decipher. The streetlights outside cast shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Still, he said nothing. The silence stretched on, tension growing thick in the air. You couldn’t stand it. 

You were about to ask him again, to demand an answer, when he finally spoke. His voice was low and measured, a hint of anger looping through the words, and you shivered at the tone of it. 

“They had no right to leave you there like that. I couldn’t — I had to know you were okay.” 

You stared at him, feeling something deep and aching stir inside you. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react.  Everything was suddenly so much more complicated than it had been before.

“Jake…” you whispered, and you don’t know if it was the way you used his first name over his callsign or if he was just finally ready to get it off of his chest, but it was like the single syllable finally cracked the floodgates open. 

“I was seeing somebody,” he said. You sucked in a deep breath at the words, a soft “oh” falling from your lips. He continued on before you could think to say anything else. “For a while. Almost a year. She’s exactly what I always pictured I wanted, you know? She travels a lot, but we were figuring it out. But we were serious.” 

A beat passed, and you cleared your throat in the silence of the truck. You almost felt awkward when you asked, “Were?” 

He nodded, clenching his jaw, before laughing in a way that sounded more self-deprecating than you had ever heard from him. “I’m a lot of things, darlin. But I’m not a cheater, physical or otherwise. It wouldn’t have been so easy for me to catch feelings for someone else if she and I were meant to be together. And the way I had started to feel…” 

He cut himself off with a shake of his head, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned ghostly white. You processed the words slowly, mulling over them over and over again as you tried to figure out the implications behind them. 

“About me?” you dared yourself to ask, your heart beating hard in your chest and damn near holding your breath after you did. 

He met your gaze head on, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About you. I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but it wasn’t until that day in the ready room that I realized I couldn’t keep denying it anymore. I care about you more than I should.”

The weight of his words was heavy, and you felt a flush start to creep up your neck. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the truck, leaving the two of you suspended in a moment that felt both infinite and fleeting. You didn't know what to say, didn't even know exactly what you were feeling right now. You never thought he would feel the same way that you did, to the point where he had apparently broken up with a girlfriend you had no idea about. But then he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t acted. 

You had no idea what any of this meant. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him, but before you could get a word out, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his mouth, but his lips were warm and firm and you couldn’t help the way you relaxed into it. It wasn’t more than a press of your lips together, neither of you moving to deepen it, but it left you dizzy like it was the most intense kiss of your life. 

When you pulled back, you were both breathing heavier, your foreheads pressed together. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with something that felt emotional. “I shouldn't have...not yet. But I had to know what it felt like.” 

You swallowed, focusing on one word.“Yet?” 

Hangman, Jake, nodded, and the silence stretched on for a long moment. You were still reeling from his kiss, the emotion, your own confusion over your feelings and what it all might mean. Then he sighed, loud and deep. From this close, you could smell the peppermint from the gum he always chewed on his breath. He pulled away so he could look into your eyes and cupped your cheek. The smile he gave you was tinged with sadness and longing, and the strangest mix of hope. You knew before he said anything that nothing would be happening tonight. 

“I’m not…I’m not ready yet,” he said softly. Even though you knew something of the sort was coming, there was a flash of disappointment. He must have read it on your face, because he was quick to try and reassure you. “It’s not you. It’s just…I just ended it with her. And I’m still confused as hell over what I feel for you. I think you both deserve more than me rushing into something without figuring that out. Please understand.” 

You nodded, even though you weren't entirely sure if you did. You wanted him, that much was clear. But you also didn't want to be someone's rebound. You wanted something real, something meaningful. And you were willing to wait for that. You just hoped he was too. 

“Okay," you whispered, taking a deep breath. "I understand.” 

He smiled at you again, a small, sad curve of his lips, before leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Thank you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You wanted him to kiss you again. You ached for it, almost. But you knew if you closed the distance that you’d be going back on everything he had just asked for and the understanding you had promised him you had. So instead, you swallowed thickly and pulled away from him all together. He seemed to understand the distance you were creating and released another deep breath, clearing his throat. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "For coming to get me." 

He nodded, and the two of you fell into silence again. There was something in his eyes that made you think he wasn't done yet. "Can I walk you up to your door?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea. But at the same time, you didn't want this moment to end, either, even if it was just a few more minutes. "Sure," you finally said. 

The two of you got out of the truck and made your way up to your apartment, the silence between you heavy. He was walking so close that you could feel the body heat radiating from him, and you were starting to feel hot all over. When you reached your door, you turned to face him, unsure of what to say. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared. 

"Thank you again," you said softly.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he let out a deep breath. "Of course,” he said, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled when he pulled away. “I'll see you Monday?" he asked, his voice uncertain. 

You nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you then." 

He stepped away, staring for just a moment longer before he whispered out a goodnight and turned and walked back down the hallway. You watched him go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside of you. You didn't know what was going to happen between the two of you, but you thought maybe you were ready to find out. You turned to your door and pulled out your keys, taking a deep breath before unlocking it and stepping inside. 

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

Main Masterlist

Notes: More of The Blonde One™️needed to be added to my masterlist. I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lol. Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement!

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 @thedroneranger for the help! And to Mak for the prettiest banner that finally gets to see the light of day😍

[lunargrapejuice]

drunk confessions

alhaitham x fem!reader | 3k words

warnings: drunk alhaitham, a bit of unwanted touching from another character

the unpredictability of love was perhaps alhaithams worst enemy, at least when it came to you, and as he watched your skin flush under the gaze of another man that was more evident than ever. 

he's forgotten why he even came out this way, if he had been seeking you out like he often did or was just trying to get his mind off of you before he spotted you in the distance, wearing that flowy dress that he can’t get enough of, accompanied by another scholar who stood much too close to you, who caressed and grabbed your arm to get you to look at him before leaning toward your lips. alhaitham didn’t stick around to watch you kiss the man. he hadn��t prepared himself for the feeling of tightness in his chest as he walked away or the deep breaths he’d need to take all the way back to his office to try to stop it, though it was to no avail in the end. this annoying lick of flames that kept his chest feeling annoyingly uncomfortable at the thought of another man taking you as their own didn’t disappear simply because he had walked away.

he had struggled, or maybe it was more so avoided, processing the fact that he had indeed fallen in love with you and even after he came to the conclusion of love, he still chose to do nothing about it. love was everything he was not; irrational, illogical, the act of following one’s heart. and you were.. 

kaveh had once told alhaitham that he couldn’t understand why someone as bright and lovely as you would want to be around someone with such an unlikeable personality, who never saw anything for its true beauty but instead at face value and even then found them unnecessary. you found beauty in everything and gave everyone the kindness he had come to adore, even if he thought most were not deserving of your caring nature. but that never stopped you from being around him, never stopped you from enjoying the peaceful silence as you read books side by side or walked around the city and pointed out the worldly beauties he had not cared to note until he met you. you had blushed at his bone dry teasing and fought with him many times trying to justify such lovely things and why they were important to life. he loved to fluster you, to rile you up, see that pout on your lips and the determination in your eyes as you tried to rationalize that which wasn’t rational at all. but even more than that, he loved to see you smile and a part of him wondered if someone with such a cold, seemingly unfeeling, personality like his own could continue to make you smile. 

as irritated as it made him feel, as he sits in his office chair and runs a hand through his hair, he can’t help but think, would the man you were with today be able to keep you smiling and happy in ways he could not? 

“gods don’t you look to be in a terrible mood,” kaveh voice breaks alhaitham from his thoughts. apparently he had been so caught in them he had failed to hear his roommate burst through the door or even walk in until he spoke and made himself comfortable on the chair in front of his desk. “want to talk about it?”

“get out.”

“now hold on! i may have a better suggestion and i think you’ll like it,” kaven smiles mischievously and alhaitham already knows what he’s about to say. “want a drink instead?”

“fine but you’re buying.”

your palm stung from the impact against the cheek of the man who had tried to force himself on you. even minutes after walking away, with your chest in knots and your eyes full of unshed tears of anger, you could still feel the tingle of pressure throughout your fingertips. just who did he think he was trying to kiss you unprovoked in the middle of the street like that?! archons you hated arrogant scholars who tried to take what they wanted without actually hearing your own words simply because they thought they were above you. 

“my position at the akademiya will make a comfortable life for you. i know i could make you a happy housewife.” 

blah blah blah. 

it was all pointless drivel when your heart already belonged to someone else, another scholar who’s position in the akademiya never mattered to you. being the scribe never swayed your feelings, was never even a component as to why you fell in love with him and he would certainly laugh at the idea of making you a housewife. but it didn’t matter because you have never confessed your feelings to him and you aren’t sure you ever would. 

 surely he would find love a waste of time, unnecessary to his own goals. and even if he didn’t think that way about love, didn’t he deserve to be with someone of his same status, someone who could share his wealth in knowledge? the fact he was a genius didn’t escape you and it only made sense that he deserved to be with someone who could share that with him or at least be on a similar level but you didn’t feel like you quite met that bill. so you’d kept your mouth shut and held down the lid of your affections for him, even if it did spill out from time to time when you couldn’t help but reach out to touch him or caught yourself staring at him for longer than you should have. 

sometimes you wished to let it all out even though you knew it meant he’d leave your life, to spare you both- it was the most logical action after all- and that was the last thing you wanted. but as you lock the door to your apartment and flop onto the couch face first into a decorative pillow you wonder, had spoken how you felt about him if maybe it could have been him confessing his feelings and trying to kiss you today. 

you both hate and love the thought; it’s nothing more than a silly daydream but it was one that made your heart flutter nonetheless. 

bang bang bang

the loud thumps on your door draw your attention away from your book and to the clock hanging on the wall. your eye twitches when you see the time, it's well past midnight and the moonlit night shining through the window also says as much. who the hell is coming to your door this late and why are they being so damn loud?!

placing a pressed flower bookmark on the page you were on, you leave the book to rest on the coffee table and go to give this person a piece of your mind and a lesson in the manners of which a person can come to someone’s house unannounced this late into the evening. but as you open the door and are met with seafoam eyes flecked with amber and the tall shadow of alhaitham engulfing your figure, any words you had got caught in your throat and were swallowed to join the butterflies that were doing somersaults in your stomach and the running thoughts that took over every inch of your body.

“y/n..” your name leaves his lips slow and you can smell the alcohol on his breath from here. it’s only then do you notice the glossiness of his eyes and the emotions you can’t quite make out behind them or how he slumps against the door frame, as if he’s using it to keep himself up right. 

“let’s get you some water,” you say with a reassuring smile, some kind of attempt to help ease whatever is going on inside his mind that brought him to your door this late at night, and drunk of all things but your questions to why he’s here and what he’s doing this drunk could wait, at least for now. 

as if your heart wasn’t already beating like crazy, it almost jumps right out of chest when you put your arm around his middle to help steady him on your walk to the couch and he wraps his arm around you, the muscles of his torso flexing against your hand and side. his grip on you is hardly for support, it seems he can walk fine for the most part but his arm around you is still tight, pulling you so close there’s barely an inch between your bodies. 

with his strength, strength a ‘feeble scholar’ didn’t need in the slightest, he pulls you onto the couch with him. embarrassed to be almost on top of him, you avoid his eyes as you move a bit farther away but he doesn’t let you go far. the warmth of his fingers trail from where he held onto you, up your spine and to the side of your neck. warm calloused fingers rest there, feeling every hard thump of your heart and the heat that spreads throughout your whole body but he doesn’t comment or tease you about it. when you finally meet his eyes again, there’s no hiding his are staring directly at your lips. 

your face feels so hot under this kind of attention from him, you don’t need to look in a mirror to know you’re flushed a bright shade of red but you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. not with the way he held you with such tenderness and looked at you with enchantingly soft eyes and what you now realize may be sadness shining through the cracks.  

“s-stay here, i’ll go get you-“

you don’t get a chance to escape to the kitchen to regain your composure or even finish your sentence before he interrupts you. “does he make you happy?”

confused by his question and the hurt in his tone, your body stills. unable to stop yourself from wanting to comfort him, your hands rest on his arm, your fingers soothing over his skin. “what are you talking about? does who make me happy?”

he grumbles, as if hating to think about whoever it was he was talking about. “that man…” he looks just as muddled as you trying to remember who this man was. “the one who kissed you today.” his fingers resting on your neck tighten their grip, not enough to hurt but enough to tell you how urgent it was you tell him. you’re shocked he had seen what happened earlier but if he thought you had kissed him.. he must not have seen it all. before you can reply and clear the air between you, if you could even find words to speak, the pad of his thumb runs along on your bottom lip, gently swiping across it and back again. you can’t think, can hardly breath but all of it, all of your brain function and answers to his question are taken from you when he leans in close, his silver hair tickling your face, his heated breath fanning your already burning skin and says, “i wanted to be the only one to kiss your lips.”

it’s quiet for a long moment, only the sound of his heavy breaths and your heart beating rapidly filling your ears as he keeps you impossibly close. all this time had he felt the same way as you? your mind races with memories of these last few months when you’ve found your way to his side; times he made you smile, the moments you reached out to touch him and he didn’t pull away, when you swore you caught him staring back at you, even if it was only for a split moment.

“but if he makes you happy.. makes you smile..” his words trail off but he doesn’t let you go, doesn’t move from the proximity of your face. you’re so close your chests are nearly touching with every deep breath you both take.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you finally reply and his desperate grip on you relaxes, a sigh of relief escaping past his lips. “honestly.. his advances towards me weren’t all that consensual..”

quickly enough to give any normal person whiplash, he pulls away from you and stares at you more seriously than he ever has before, the amber of his eyes burning with a fierce fire. “did he touch you? i -”

“didn’t you hear me ‘haitham?” you reassure him, squeezing his arm gently and offering him a sweet smile. “i said i didn’t kiss him. he tried but i gave him my answer in the form of a quite lovely handprint to the face. some of my best work if i do say so myself.” you chuckle at the thought, how proud you felt of yourself for not letting him get away with touching you unwarranted like that and trying to push you into something you made clear you didn’t want.

“that’s my girl.” he says it so casually, like you truly were his and yeah, maybe you weren’t officially, you had never agreed to that with him, but your heart belonged to him all the same.

in your boldness, under the smile of relief and amusement he gave you, a smile that made you even weaker to the handsome man before you, you find your bubbling feelings can’t be held back and let a little more than you ever have before slip through. “i only want you to be the one kissing me too, you know.”

once again he pulls you close. this time resting his forehead on yours while his thumb caresses your cheek and cradles your face, your own hands resting against his chiseled chest, feeling the beating of his heart under your palm. the strands of your hair mix with his, your shared breaths becoming shallow and bated. it's hard to think straight, to not become a complete melting mess in his arms and keep your own feelings from coming out completely to a drunk person who likely wouldn’t even remember this in the morning.

you want so badly to kiss him, to feel the lips you’ve been yearning for against your own but the thought of his drunken regret, that he may not even remember this in the morning, that you may be getting your hopes up, stops you from closing the distance. 

“not tonight ‘haitham.. not while you’re drunk,” of course he listens, doesn't kiss you despite how badly he wants to, his fingers flexing against you to stop himself. “but if you still feel the same way tomorrow, if you still want to then, you know where to find me.”

in the peaceful silence you often find with him, he rubs the tip of his nose against yours and keeps your head gently pressing against his. you don’t know how long you stay in that position, basking in this unusually soft and needy display of affection from him and as much as you’d like to stay here for longer, the clock continues to tick and you know you should get him to bed. 

moving your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you pull away and feel your heart skip many beats at his response to pull you closer, to not let you go. “come on, let’s get you home.”

luckily he doesn’t live too far and even though he kept you pressed against his side, you didn’t have to help him walk all that much. you find kaveh drunkenly sleeping against the door when you arrive at the house, guess that explains why alhaitham was drunk, and with a knowing smile alhaitham pulls out both house keys from his pocket. 

once inside, kaveh now passed out on the couch half covered under a blanket you found nearby, you get alhaitham on the other couch, helping him take off the headphones he usually wears so he can sleep more comfortably before pulling a blanket over him. he looks cute like this, you think. so unlike his normal stern, cool and calculating self and yet still the same man you fell in love with. you hope you get to see more of it, though possibly sober instead of drunk next time. 

once he’s comfortable you go to leave, but before you can even take a step away from him, long fingers wrap around your wrist. you turn to face him and see a flash of that determination to see through anything he sets his mind to flash behind his tired eyes. 

“y/n… i’ll come for you tomorrow.”

you try not to fuss, not to look eagerly at every set of footsteps that come your way that next morning. you know there’s a possibility it was all just a drunk mistake or that he hadn’t meant it, not that you think him a liar but alcohol did far worse things to people than make them say things they didn’t mean. 

still, the way he acted.. what he said.. you wanted it all to be true and deep in your heart you felt like it was. so as patiently as you could, you waited and went about your day with thoughts of alhaitham lingering in the back of your mind. the way he held you last night, the words he professed at the thought of you being with another man, how he called your name like it was the only word he wanted to say. 

you heard it over and over in your mind until you swore you heard it for real and with a racing heart, you turned around to see the man you loved making his way towards you, the early afternoon light at his back, that same determination from last night in his now clear, well rested, eyes. 

“why do you look so surprised to me?” he asks, never stopping his long strides that close the distance between you. even when there aren't any more steps to take, he brings you closer to him. one hand snaking around your side to the small of your back, pressing you against his chest, while the other gently moves through your hair to hold the back of your neck, his words whispered against your lips as you lifted on your toes to reach him. “i told you i’d be coming.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[mitsuyeaah]

UNDER THE COVERS

syn: sleeping next to them!

BLLK ft. BACHIRA, NAGI

cw: just fluff with my sleepy pookies <3

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ MEGURU BACHIRA

— LOVES being the small spoon despite being possibly taller than you, and moves around a lot during his sleep. a light snorer but he talks in his sleep. he’s the type who needs constant reassurance of your touch while he’s sleeping—whether it be your arm around his waist or your head on his chest, bachira wants it all. he wants to be as close as possible to you; it baffles you because sometimes when you know he’s in a deep slumber, you’d change your sleeping position—like rolling over to the side with your back facing him—and he’d let out a small whine at the loss of warmth, and blindly seek for you.

you rubbed your eyes, letting out a small grumble as your body was met with the cool winter air—the blanket you and bachira shared having been ripped away from your body, the cold immediately engulfing you. bachira had tossed and turned in his sleep, causing him to unknowingly snatch the blanket away from you as he slept on his side. you were used to this but it always managed to wake you up, nonetheless. before you could fully register the whole situation, he let out a whine of discontent and reached an arm behind him to feel for you—his hand blindly patting the small space between the two of you.

sighing, you grabbed your end of the blanket and placed it over your body before wrapping an arm around bachira’s waist. he let out a sigh of content, scooting his body closer to yours—seeking the inviting warmth that your body radiated. finally closing your heavy lids, you try to drift off to sleep but it was soon interrupted by bachira once again changing his sleeping position. brows furrowed, you opened your eyes to see his face right in front of yours—his eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful despite tossing and turning a couple of times.

bachira let out another sigh of content before leaning into your touch as your fingers ghosted over his face, clearing loose strands of hair that made it way to his pretty face. you meekly smiled to yourself, cupping his cheek and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “mhm.. love you..” he let out a soft groan. you knew he was sleep talking but your heart couldn’t help flutter at it, he was absolutely even more adorable when he slept. “i love you too, meguru.” you whispered to yourself before finally falling into a deep slumber.

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ SEISHIRO NAGI

— a deep sleeper. nagi has the pleasure of falling asleep easily once his head hits the pillow, and also undoubtedly doesn’t wake up—both a curse and a blessing. he doesn’t move much when sleeping and can often stay in a position for hours because of how deep he’s fallen asleep. nagi isn’t a snorer, instead he has a habit of breathing through his slightly parted lips which makes a sound but not enough to bother your sleep. he’s definitely the big spoon, and likes having his arm slung around your waist to the extent of you having to remove it off you because of how heavy his limbs are.

it’s only been ten minutes since you and nagi decided to head for bed; as usual, he was already in a deep slumber while you lie awake. he had an arm slung over your waist with his chest near your back—you were used to this every single night, nagi being blessed with the ability of falling asleep fast. you honestly envied him and how he was able to reach dreamland in a matter of minutes. but you didn’t mind, nagi never failed to give you the sense of comfort that radiated from his sleeping figure—he was so still when he slept that it somewhat helped you drift off to sleep.

you stared at the wall ahead of you, and amidst the darkness of the room, you could make out a black silhouette on the wall. blinking a few times and squinting your eyes, you came to a conclusion that—to your dismay—it was a bug. “nagi..” you grabbed his arm that was around your waist and gently shook it. no response. turning around to face him, you shook his shoulder and called out his name once more but you were only met with further silence. nagi’s lips were slightly parted, his breathing steady as he took deep breaths—as beautiful as he looked sleeping, you needed him awake to take the bug outside.

after what felt like an eternity, he slowly opened his eyes, a question rolling of his tongue, “hm? what is it…?” “there’s a bug on the wall and—” “i don’t see any..” you turned your torso toward the wall you were previously facing, shit, he was right. there was no sign of the silhouette you saw earlier but that didn’t reassure you at all. as if sensing your panic, nagi tightened his hold around you, pulling you closer to his chest, “‘s okay.. it’s probably gone out..” he slipped his hand under your shirt and drew circles on your back, taking your mind off the bug. you inhaled his scent and closed your eyes, praying that somehow the bug wouldn’t find it’s way to the bed.

© mitsuyeaah

[ophelia-writes-fics]

hold me close and hold me fast [alec hardy x reader]

It's winter in Broadchurch, and you've noticed a habit of Alec's.

Tags: GN!reader, fluff, romantic fluff, established relationship

Word Count: ~900

TWs/CWs: none, this is pure self-indulgent fluff :)

It was another frigid Broadchurch winter. The entire town had been covered in a blanket of snow and ice that was six inches thick and refusing to let up anytime soon. But despite the endless bad weather, life didn’t stop, so every morning you went to work as usual, and Alec went to the police station. He worked long, exhausting hours, and he was usually either gone before you woke up or out until after you went to bed.

You always knew exactly when he came home on late nights, though. Because if Alec was one thing, it was a goddamn stubborn bastard, and he was a stubborn bastard who refused to wear gloves, a scarf, or a hat in the winter. 

No matter how much you pestered him about it, no matter how you insisted he’d get cold, he would swear up and down that a coat was enough and he “didn’t need all that stuff”. And yet, every single night that winter, he’d come home, change into pajamas, climb into bed with you, and put his freezing cold hands under your shirt to warm them up. 

It would have annoyed the hell out of you, but when you finally confronted him about it, he looked so taken aback that you realized he’d had no idea he was doing it. Still, he’d apologized, and from then on, every time he came in late, he’d be absolutely sure that his hands were kept outside of your clothes. 

That is, while he was awake. 

After another few nights of being woken up by freezing hands clutching your chest, you quickly came to a conclusion: whether he wanted to or not, Alec would subconsciously seek out your body heat to warm himself up the moment he drifted off to sleep. 

As the weather got colder and colder, you woke up dozens of times to Alec holding you close like you were a teddy bear - every limb wrapped around you, ice-cold hands under your shirt, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It didn’t even bother you anymore. It was adorable, honestly. You knew he’d get all prickly and deny it if you told him, but he really was such a sweetheart, even in his sleep. The peaceful look on his face as he cuddled you made your heart melt every damn time, and no amount of cold hands could compare to how much you loved seeing him happy. 

Still, you really wished he would wear some damn gloves once in a while; if not for you, then to avoid getting frostbite when it was below zero outside. So, that winter, you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

You took your knitting bag everywhere you went, working on your projects whenever you had downtime, making sure Alec never saw what you were working on. Within a couple of weeks, you had a hat, a thick scarf, and a pair of mittens all completed, so you decided on a plan: on your day off, you’d wait until Alec left for work, then wrap the gift and meet him down at the police station to surprise him. And that was exactly what you did. 

---

“Darlin’, what’s goin’ on? What’re you doing here?” A worried look crossed Alec’s face as he met you at the door. 

“No, everything’s all right! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you reassured him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “I brought you a gift and figured I’d surprise you, that’s all!” 

You handed him the small parcel and watched with anticipation as he opened it, revealing the multicolored pile of warm winter clothes. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, a bit nervously. 

He looked up at you, a shocked smile on his face. “Did you make all this?” 

You nodded, and before you knew it, Alec was at your side, embracing you so tightly your feet left the ground for a moment. 

“They’re beautiful, love,” Alec murmured, still smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

Your heart fluttered with pride. 

---

The next morning, you were at the breakfast table when Alec was leaving for work. Something was different this morning, however. 

“Hmm, someone seems to be dressed rather warmly today,” you teased gently. “Whatever happened to ‘Oh, I just need a coat, darling, I’ll be fine without a hat or a scarf or gloves’?”

He gave you a playful glance of warning, then smiled. “Well, someone put a lot of effort into making sure I’ll be warm, and it’d be a shame to let all that beautiful work go to waste, hmm?” He leaned in and caressed your cheek as he kissed you goodbye, whispered a quick ‘I love you’, then he was gone. 

---

As the winter wore on, it was much the same as all the winters before it, except two things had changed. 

One, Alec never left the house without the winter clothes you’d made him. He treasured them, and you could always tell - he handled them with so much care, folding them gently every night when he got home and running a loving hand over them every now and then when he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

And two, Alec never came home with freezing cold hands again. 

And you were absolutely delighted to find out that even when he kept warm during the day, he still held you close in his sleep, every single night.

A/N: thank you for reading! i know this is a shorter one and it's a bit silly. honestly, i really just wanted to give alec some love, he's such a sweetheart and the poor thing needs a break lmao. i'll be back soon with some smut! as always, feel free to like/rb/comment/whatever else, and my requests are always open! :)

🍓 this fic's title is from the english version of 'la vie en rose' 🍓

[aqours]

"Aqua has an Oedipus complex-" first of all beyond the fact the only way you could possibly think this is you never read or watched OnK at all and just read a synopsis and didn't bother to verify if it was accurate or not- this is actually the weakest way you could possibly interpret the nature of the feelings Goro/Aqua had regarding Ai. like, even ignoring the fact that Aqua has such an extreme lack of an Oedipus complex to the point he actively refused to breastfeed from Ai because it would have been creepy and inappropriate to him, everything about Aqua's feelings regarding Ai if anything read as parental quite frankly

Gorou Amamiya became Ai's fan because of Sarina. Because Sarina was somebody important to Gorou that he comforted in her last days, he became a huge fan of Ai in order to carry on Sarina's wishes and to keep supporting her and became a genuine diehard idol fan in the process. Then, he met Ai while pregnant: and had a heart-to-heart conversation with her. And came to the conclusion that Ai was somebody he wanted to support in any capacity. He could have been like Ryousuke and actually become possessive of her and feel like she betrayed him: he did not. He was a medical professional that put aside his own feelings as "a fan" to support her both as a doctor and as a fan in his own way by wishing for her sincere happiness as opposed to an image sold to fans.

He wanted to see her grow up happy and healthy. If Ryousuke had not killed him and there was no murder plot at all? The plot of this story probably would have been about him moving to Tokyo after talking to Ai's manager saying that someone needs to be their family doctor while keeping their secret and him taking the roll. The series would have been about Gorou as the Hoshino family doctor and how he supports them as a member of the sidelines who gives support in his own way.

Aqua never really refers to Ai as his mother much outside of situations when it'd be weirder if he didn't. It's very explicit he does not have a romantic or sexual attraction to Ai in this new life: he already didn't, but now it's like, Negatively So Actually. No longer able to support her as a doctor he even took an acting gig JUST to help further and bolster Ai's career. It's beaten into your face with the subtlety of a dozen hammers to your face his only desire is to watch Ai grow up safe and happily and succesful.

Aqua's/Gorou's relationship with Ai was someone who wanted to see her grow up to be happy. And after some waste of life incel murdered her? To want to make sure that was avenged. Because he was someone older than Ai who valued her and wanted her happiness above everything else in the world, and views the person who is responsible for that as someone who's life is forfeit. Because Ai was a good person who didn't deserve her fate and as someone who only ever wanted to support her, wants to make sure that her memory can rest in peace completely.

If anything, the feelings Aqua/Gorou had towards Ai are parental in nature. So much about his motivations read like a father who wants to avenge his daughter's murder, to kill the man that denied her the happiness the child deserved.

"OnK is soooooooo gross the mc has an Oedipus complex and is a p*do-" not only is this a reading you can only get from a five second sypnosis read and being determined to hate OnK for brownie points, it's not even the right fucked up dead dove way that you could describe their relationship.

EDIT: I feel the need to address this, as it's talked in reblogs and some notes! I never expected this to get notes, and I mostly wrote this in one go. Please understand I wrote this post from the perspective of purely writing Aqua's feelings for Ai purely from a familial perspective. The reality is that Aqua's feelings are complicated and can be read in many different ways: from familial, to that of a lover, to someone who puts Ai on a pedestal as the ultimate Idol and the ideal of what a "true" fan would be: someone who loves their Idol for who she is as opposed to a toxic image. I don't fully 100% agree with this post anymore, but if I had to chose only one familial way for Aqua to view Ai I would probably still default to "vengeful father who wants to avenge his daughter's death." BUT Aqua's feelings are ultra complicated and are on an entire spectrum ranging from "wholesome" to "outright disturbing," so please don't take my words as like a single sure-fire way to interpret him! ty all <3

[accio-victuuri]

Wang Yibo Bazaar January Issue feature article

What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

Faced with a public figure does not speak, should we choose to remain silent and just observe and speculate, or should we continue to build a bridge of dialogue at eye level and continue to ask questions?

This is a question Wang Yibo asked us.

We are happy to receive and answer - to come calmly without presuppositions, to follow only the intuitive guidance of the moment, to eliminate biased thoughts, and to see him as a "person" first.

This is not an article written just to fill the page. Perhaps what I can tell you truthfully is that every word in it was written at the filming site of this work, and was typed word by word at a distance of less than 20 meters away from the person I was working on - Wang Yibo. It seems that this is necessary to ensure the immediacy and time-limited nature of this creation.

It is full of questions that may not be asked even if they sit down and face to face. Perhaps it is precisely because there is no need for conclusive or chaotic answers that these questions become more reckless, direct and useless.

In the end, not only did the answer no longer matter, but it became increasingly unclear who the question was addressed to.

Wang Yibo: What you see is what you get

Written by: Lu Yanni

In a huge room surrounded by cement, there are two small temporary spaces surrounded by black cloth: the larger one is a shooting room, and the other smaller one is a space where people can watch movies and rest at any time. There were some white folding chairs inside, which were only occasionally empty throughout the cover shoot.

For more than four hours, the only thing that never stopped here was the music - some of which were from the editor's private playlist, and some of which were specially requested by Wang Yibo. They may be psychedelic, light, noisy, or strange, difficult to classify and describe, but no matter what the style and rhythm of the music are, they are all consistent and uninterrupted.

Wang Yibo just kept his head down and said nothing, even sternly smiling, and immersed himself in doing what everyone who came to him wanted him to do. Are all similar jobs the same? Does every day of his life look exactly like the same day?

The music was so loud that people could jump inside. He remained silent, without saying a word. There was nothing but silence.

He squatted down, covering his face with his hands, and then his head. His hands messed up his hair.

He half-knelt until he gradually fell to the ground. He curled up into a ball. He looked up. He bent over and simply lay flat on the ground, one leg bent, the other leg also bent, and his hands spread out and stretched forward. He fell directly to the ground. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands on the white floor paper.

He said nothing, nothing but silence. Where is he lying?

I suddenly thought of his name being screamed out by the crowd in that small southern town more than a thousand miles away half a month ago, and the moment of silence when the lights went out in theaters one after another in contrast to the noise. , he sat down in the seat that belonged to him for a short period of time, and could occasionally get a moment of calm and peaceful listening time in the dark.

What shape and color is the peace he needs? Does he need peace?

The stylist used a tool to curl the bangs on the wig to make them fly a little more, then sprayed them with moisture, pulled them up, and sprayed them with hairspray to make them look messy and branched. He closed his eyes and let it all happen. That's not his hair. What does that lock of hair have to do with him?

A group of people squatted there, surrounding him in the center. The umbrella-shaped light illuminated him, and all he could hear was the snapping of the shutter and the blinking of the flash at the same frequency. It was as if a group of people had discovered some rare plants in the mountains and were sampling them very quietly and carefully. He sat there, occupying only the size of a corner.

Is this a rare moment of relaxation for him? "Relaxation" - it's just our guess. How can one person experience what he is feeling moment by moment for another person? Whether it is one-way or two-way, how easy is it to "understand" between people?

He stood up again, covering his head with his hands, as if he had just hit something, or as if the fight had just ended.

He tilted his head back slightly and took a deep breath. Was it exhaustion? Or some other feeling?

The staff passed by and sighed softly: "The shooting was too intense!"

Looking back, Wang Yibo was curled up in a ball and lying on the ground again. The photographer asked his assistant for a tissue, and he caught himself sweating profusely.

Wang Yibo was still lying on the ground, his body stretched further.

Reputation, what is it?

Is there anything else that can rival the vanity that comes with being in the spotlight?

If he were willing to give one thing in exchange for everything he has now, what would his answer be? What would your answer be?

Will prosperity last forever?

"I know why you wanna hate me! (I know why you wanna hate me!)" "

I know why you wanna hate me!"

The music has changed. Clothes changed. His body also seemed to be suddenly injected with a strength that would not be easily suppressed. Wearing a white vest, jeans, and chewing gum, Wang Yibo smiled, danced involuntarily to the music, and sang along, his voice getting louder and louder. The chorus was repeated once, twice, three times, four times...

"I know why you wanna hate me!"

"I know why you wanna hate me!"

He jumped up. His long arms and legs were swinging in the air.

What kind of opportunities and luck are needed to eliminate other people’s prejudices against you or your own prejudices against others? Is this something that can be controlled by just relying on the rise and fall of one's own ideas?

The next picture is the cover picture. Everyone is working hard to get as high a score as possible. His silence then became deeper.

Someone was saying, "Let's not act like a cover photo shoot... just be normal." So everyone laughed together, trying to relieve some of the pressure and tension, but he remained silent.

What are we creating?

He was leaning on the sofa, looking lazily at the camera, suddenly closing his eyes and leaning on the back of the sofa. How can we know what he is thinking at this time? Does he really enjoy this? A question that doesn't expect an answer at all. Who am I talking to? Who am I asking? A tree, a piece of cream cake, a chair, a bolt of lightning?

On this blank screen, a new face and a new piece of clothing appear every month. What does he, who occupies the center of the screen, think about such rapid changes? Is there any panic? If not, then where is his panic? Does he think his panic has merit? Why do so many things have to be assigned so-called "value"? Who stipulates that people must prepare for a rainy day? Can't we make a decision after it rains? So what if it rains and it’s too late to make a decision? It's nothing more than getting soaked all over. It will be fine if the sun comes out the next day to dry it off.

Things seem to be getting a little more difficult.

"We have to get this cover picture out..."

"How about everyone disperse and stop crowding around him."

It's so hot in the room.

What else could he do? He couldn't go anywhere but stay where he was. Doesn't he want so many people surrounding him? Is he afraid of crowds? Didn't he live for the crowds and the attention of everyone? What does he want to live for? What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

If a little bit of the world is enough for him, how big is that "little bit"? What are the essentials?

There was a burst of cheers and applause, and everyone was very excited. He suddenly raised his arms in the slightly depressed atmosphere, and wow, the photo was finally "available".

“Well done!”

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 4)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, smut

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

You danced around Billy for the rest of the day. He always seemed to find a way to touch you or at the least, be within reach, and always solicitous. It hadn’t taken you long to realize your folly that morning. He was testing you, making sure you were loyal to his friend. Part of you wondered if Frank had put him up to it. Was he trying to find a reason to break it off with you? Did he regret his commitment to mate you? You hated the thoughts that continuously ran through your head. You jerk your head, trying to make the ugly thoughts go away. Would you ever find any peace from your own self-doubt?

“You okay, gorgeous?” Billy asks as he studies you from across the kitchen counter. 

“Fine,” you say, not making eye contact. 

“What time do you have to be at the bar?” he asks. 

“I’ve got to go get ready now. Are you guys coming by?” You look at Frank for the answer. 

“Nah,” Frank says. 

“Of course,” Billy’s answers simultaneously. 

“Okay, well, either way, I’ll see you guys later,” you retreat to your room to change. You wished you had a moment alone with Frank to ask him what was going on with him, but he seemed content to keep you at arms length. It was as you were driving that another explanation crossed your mind. What if Billy brought back memories of Frank’s mate, Maria? He had known her and Frank’s children. The thought made you sad and you wondered if you had jumped to conclusions about Frank’s remoteness. You resolved to talk to him about it tonight after close.  

Saturday night at any bar is busy and you were glad your other bartender was here. You really needed to find another hand, if only to give you a couple nights off a week. You usually take Mondays off but you'd been called in several times lately. You loved the bar but everyone needs a break sometimes. You hadn't taken a vacation since you bought it. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as a group bustles in through the door. Without them even making it across the floor, you get a pitcher going and gather glasses. They were regulars on Saturday nights. The group bought a few pitchers, played pool on one of the three tables, and were decent tippers. The leader of their group, Dane, came by to drop his card for the tab and grabbed the drinks. He was an Alpha and paid little attention to you outside of ordering and paying. Just how you liked them to behave. 

You were surprised when Frank and Billy actually showed. After their awkward exchange earlier, you assumed they wouldn't bother. Billy was all smiles as he approached and you set their drinks at two open spaces at the end of the bar. 

"Thanks," Frank said softly with a gentle look. It warmed your heart and you gave him a genuine smile. He looked in your eyes for what felt like the first time in days, though it had only been hours. 

"How's the night going?" Billy asks. 

"It's been busy but nothing we can't handle," you nod. 

"Can I get another?" A patron calls. 

"I'll check on you guys in a bit," you smile as you get back to work. 

The next hour goes by in a blur as customers come and go. You rarely have a moment to breathe and do little but refill glasses. The music was playing loudly and there was a commotion at one of the tables that calmed down with Jordan's quick work. It was a great night business-wise and everyone was having a good time. You had finally made it back over to the guys when, out of nowhere, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your shoulders tensed as you glanced around. 

"What is it?" Billy looked around before looking back at you. 

"I don't know..." your eyes continue to scan. 

"You probably just caught a chill," Frank attempts to reassure you. 

"Um,yeah... probably," you say softly. 

"I don't think so, Frankie," Billy disagrees. "Your face went white, gorgeous. Something set you off."

Frank glances around and shrugs, "Everything's fine. Relax. I'm gonna hit the head."

Taking a deep breath, you pour Billy another drink with a small smile, appreciative of his understanding. You glance up to check on the group at the pool table and see their pitcher getting low. You head that way to ask if they want another or to close out. Halfway there, you stop dead in your tracks when you make eye contact with a late arrival to the group. The Alpha that attacked you gave a sinister smile before lifting his glass. You look towards Jordan but he's dealing with a couple of young looking guys at the door. A hand grips your arm and you gasp, twisting to see Billy. A laugh rings out from your attacker's direction and your gut clenches. 

"It-it's him," you breathe out, frozen in place as your anger builds. 

"Who?" Billy looks and immediately knows. His hackles raise as he locks eyes, a challenge clear in the other Alpha's eyes. 

"He attacked me. Frank stopped him. He can't be here," you set off to face your attacker but Billy catches you.

"Hey, Let me handle it," Billy says. 

"It's my bar. I can handle it,"  you say confidently. 

"But you don't have to. Let me do this for you," Billy argues.

"No, I need to do this. I can stand up on my own," you pull away but, letting go of a little of your pride, you turn back to him, "But you can back me up." As you walk, you catch Jordan's eye and motion for him to join you. You approach the Alpha with them flanking you. "I'm only going to say this once, leave now."

"Brought your posse, huh?  Where's your hero with the crowbar? Couldn't hold on to him? He didn't want the broken Omega?" He says, darkly. 

"He's right behind you," Frank's gruff voice is accompanied by the sound of a pool stick taking out your attacker's knees.

"What the fuck?" Dane yells, seeing his friend being attacked. 

Frank stops him with the pool stick, "You don't want in on this."

"What is going on?" Dane looks at you for an answer.

"Last time he was here, I cut him off. After close, he attacked me by my car. He's not welcome here," you explain plainly. 

"Did he hurt you?" Dane asks.

"Nah, I hurt him," Frank grouses.

"Is that when you were in that 'car wreck', Matt?" Dane looks at his friend. 

"No. Back me up here, man!" Matt yells. 

Dane looks between Frank, Billy, and Jordan and shakes his head, "I'm good. Uh, when you're done here another round would be great."

"Sure, Dane." You look at the guys, "Get him out of my bar. Feel free to remind him why he's not welcome."

"We've got this," Billy stops Jordan from joining them. The dark smiles Frank and Billy exchange are enough to make your insides quell. Matt would be shitting his pants before the night was over. 

You grabbed the pitcher and flounced back to the bar as if nothing had happened, secure in the knowledge that he'd never show his face here again. His audacity was mind boggling. 

You settle back into the swing of things and finish off the night. Just as you were yelling last call, Billy and Frank come in with bruised knuckles. You pour them each a drink with a grateful smile. 

"Thanks for delivering the message," you wink. 

Frank smiles as he raises his glass, "Anytime."

You glance down at Billy's split knuckles, "Need some ice? Or a bandaid?"

"Nah, gorgeous," he licks the wound and takes a drink while staring at you. 

You don't know why but it was hot as fuck. Your mind immediately went to it doing other things and you have to swiftly shift your attention. You pour yourself a hit of whiskey, a rarity for you, but necessary to help you through these strange feelings coursing through you. 

“You okay, babe?” Frank eyes you. 

“Just a little keyed up,” you say, dismissively. 

“Sounds like you need an outlet,” Billy gives you a rakish look. 

Deciding to play his little game, you lean on the bar suggestively, “Any suggestions?”

Billy’s eyes betrayed him in that moment. Want was obvious but a moment of vulnerability flashed. He recovered quickly to send a smirk Frank’s way, “You’ve got a firecracker on your hands, Frankie.”

“She gets in her moods,” Frank cracks.

You raise an eyebrow at the comment but before you can reply, Dane walks up to close out his tab. He leaves a big tip and looks at Frank, “He still alive?”

“He was when we left him,” Billy says with a cagey shrug.

“He’s only in town a couple of times a year but once his dad hears about this, he won’t be back. Sorry for the trouble. Won’t happen again,” Dane nods to you as if sealing a deal. 

“Thanks. See ya next Saturday,” you say to assure his welcome to return. 

“Alright, let’s head out, Bill. Jordan, you’ll make sure she gets to her car?” Frank drains his glass.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Jordan says nervously. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay with her,” Billy states. 

“Wha- No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” you retort. 

“I’d feel better if you weren’t alone,” Billy says sternly.

“Jordan will be here,” you argue. 

“She’s good, Bill. Let’s go,” Frank jerks his head toward the door. 

“You go ahead,” Billy says coldly. “I’m staying.”

“You always were a stubborn bastard,” Frank laughs, shaking his head. 

“Always,” Billy says dismissively. 

You clench your jaw in frustration but turn away to finish off the night. It was as if time sped up to leave you alone with Billy. The bar emptied quickly, the staff cleaned in record time, and before you realized it, Billy had told Jordan to head to his apartment. Taking the cash to the back room, you crouch down to lock it in the safe. It was the only way to put some distance between the two of you. His intent to get you alone was obvious to you and you wanted to get into the car quickly to limit it. What you didn’t expect was for him to be right behind you when you stood up from locking the safe. 

Gasping, you growl out, “Damn Marines and their fucking silent steps!”

Billy chuckles as he closes the little distance between you. 

“Don’t,” you put a hand up to stop him. 

“We need to finish our conversation from this morning,” Billy intimates. 

“The one where you tried to seduce your best friend’s Omega?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Were you testing me? Is this some sick game you play? Or did Frank put you up to it so he has a reason to dump me?” You practically spit the accusations. All of your anxiety and fears come to the surface with them. 

A muscle ticked in Billy’s clenched jaw. His dark eyes bore into yours as he leaned in closer. You stand your ground but you’d be lying if you said your insides didn’t quiver. His scent was suddenly more intense and you knew you had struck a nerve. His hand lashed out to grasp you by the throat and pull your face close to his. You wrap your hands around his wrist as your eyes widen. You should be scared, afraid of what this Alpha may do to you but you find yourself aroused by his reaction. Your thighs clench and heat pools in your belly despite you fighting these feelings. He takes a deep breath, pulling your scent in before speaking, “I don’t play games with other men’s Omegas. I don’t mess with Omegas at all, generally. But, I do go after what I want and from the moment I stepped in this damn bar yesterday, all I can think of doing is marking you as mine,” he growls.

“Why?” You ask, staring at him pleadingly, desperate for an answer. Mainly because you felt the same way. Your mind and body were screaming out for him. It was insanity, a delusion. It had to be. A reaction to agreeing to be mated. A seven month itch, fuck, it had to be something because whatever else it was, it was wrong.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” he whispers. 

“I’m Frank’s,” you reply quietly. 

“Funny,” Billy says, trailing his fingers over the scent gland on your neck and sending a shiver through you, “I don’t see a claiming mark. You’re with Frank, you’re not his. Not yet… He won’t stay. He can’t. Even if he does mate you, he won’t stay.”

Those words broke whatever spell Billy was able to put over you and you felt the anger claw its way into you, “And you will?”

Billy’s lips part but nothing comes out. 

“Exactly,” You push him away. You grab your keys from the desk and flick the lights off as you exit the back room, “Let’s go.” 

You walk away without a backwards glance. Shutting everything down as you go, you make it to your car and slip in without him bothering to say anything more. Frank had told you Billy was known for going through the Omegas but you were kicking yourself for falling for his soulful shit again. Yes, you were attracted to him but he was just passing through town and no matter how much you wanted to give in, it would be stupid to lose Frank for nothing more than a quick fuck. You rode in silence to the cabin. Your anger and frustration were too intense to allow you to speak and Billy was similarly stoic. 

As soon as you were inside, you went to shower, feeling as if all you could smell was Billy on your skin. You ran the water hotter than normal and scrubbed your skin of any smell from him or the bar. When you entered the bedroom, Frank stirred, woken by the light from the bathroom. 

“Everything okay?” Frank asks, squinting. 

“No,” you say as you get on the bed. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You pull the blankets down and straddle his naked body. Kissing him hard, you pull back just long enough to whisper, “I need you.”

His arms go around you immediately and his mouth opens to kiss you more thoroughly. You reach down to pump his cock until it’s hard enough for you to slip it inside. Your walls clench around him. Breaking the kiss, you sit up to work your hips more quickly, allowing him to fill you more. 

“Jesus, babe, what’s gotten into you?” Frank moans as his hands cover your breasts to knead. 

“Fuck, needed this cock in me. Needed it stretching me out like only you can,” you answer, throwing your head back to let out a moan. 

“Quiet, babe. Billy will hear us,” Frank chuckles, sitting up and trying to pull you to him for a kiss. 

You push him back down forcefully and ride him harder, “Then he’ll know just how good you fuck me.” Your anger returns as you ride him. Anger at Billy for his very presence, anger at Frank for making you feel he always had one foot out the door, anger at your family for making you feel less than, anger at society that considered you nothing but a wreck. You rode all those feelings out on Frank’s cock and when that wasn’t enough you dug your nails into his pecs until he grimaced. You drag them down his chest leaving angry red marks, making Frank roar as he grabs you and throws you under him. He thrusts as hard as possible, driving impossibly deep, and forcing a cry from your throat. He doesn’t relent, pounding into you harder than he ever has, enough that you know your thighs will be bruised. You lose yourself in it, allowing your mouth to fall open and release moans and cries with no regard to who hears. When you come, your body bows and you release a full-throated scream. 

You lay like a ragdoll, completely spent and grateful for the release but Frank isn’t finished with you. Pulling out, he grabs your leg and flips you over. He pulls you up onto your knees and slams into you repeatedly from behind, grunting as he uses his hands to pull you back against him. Your skin slaps obscenely and you can do little more than curl your hands into the sheets as he fucks into you. When his hand lands a punishing slap on your ass, you cry out again. 

“Don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you tonight, but don’t worry, babe, I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” Frank growls as he continues his delicious assault on your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head as another orgasm slams through you. 

“That’s right. Let it out, fuck,” Frank pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed. Turning you on your back, Frank pulls one of your legs across the other and enters you again. You're twisted in half, breasts and face where he can see them, but your ass is still displayed as he fucks you. He grasps your thigh as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. “Play with them. I wanna watch you,” Frank brings your hand up to your breast. 

You pinch your nipples, twisting and flicking as he watches. His hips drive into you steadily and his thumb makes circles around your clit. Your orgasm creeps up on you, your attention on your breast but your body suddenly spasms and you let out a high pitched moan. It comes in waves and you clench down on Frank with each one. 

“Frankie, baby, please. I need you to fill me up,” you whine, exhausted.

“You want me to fill you up, you’re gonna have to work for it,” Frank grunts, pulling you up. He positions you on top of him in reverse cowgirl. “Ride me like you did the other night and maybe I’ll give it to you. Move that ass,” he says as he delivers another punishing smack to your ass cheek. 

“Oh,” you squeal as you begin to move. You’re so tired but you put all of your remaining energy into bouncing on his cock. You stick your ass out, giving him the full view. He licks his lips as he watches your dripping cunt swallow his cock. He grabs handfuls, delivers alternating smacks, and smears slick from your cunt to play around your tight, little asshole. 

“Play with your clit. I want to feel you come around my cock one more time,” Frank demands.

“I… I don’t think I can,” you whimper. 

“I ain’t coming until you come, ‘mega. I suggest you get to work,” he flexes his hips up into you to emphasize his words. 

You circle your clit, searching desperately for that toe curling feeling. You reposition your hips to allow his cock to hit your g spot a little better and begin making shorter strokes. You find it and ride it out, begging your body to give you just one more. When you felt yourself teetering on that precipice, you whined until the spasms hit. Your hips moved in jerky motions as the orgasm made your legs shake uncontrollably. 

Frank’s deep voice groans, “Oh, yeah, fuck. That’s it. Fuck.” 

You feel his knot lock in place and you sob as pleasure rolls through you. Frank rolls you to your side while you’re still connected. His big hand caresses your cheek before resting it on the back of your head. 

“That’s what you needed, huh? Just needed my knot filling you up, huh, ‘mega?” He whispers, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, glad that you were facing away from him so you could hide your tears. You were filled by a man who wanted you, so why did you feel so empty?

Part 5

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[missbluesunflowersstuff]

How do you imagine the adult!Damian's life?

First of all no evil pipeline and second no batman pipeline

I've seen some posts about him retiring himself and becoming a veterinarian but let's be real here, this boy can't stay still, he would enjoy the peace of civil life in the start but he will get bored soon and all his siblings and friends know it

Then I offer you: reluctant hero Damian 'I-said-I-want-peace-and-no-hero-stuff-but-I-see-some-bandits-and-I-need-to-protect-the-others' Wayne

The stories can help him help with the investigation, do a "hacker job" for some friends or siblings, fix some machine, literally punching villains and criminals in their face, being the family healer (he is a sorcerer guys), being the neighborhood cryptid, go some night as random vigilant because 'my brothers and father are so stupid for the fuckin' sake! I still need to do this shit' to save the city and/or his family

Also

Damian, in call with Tim: Explain to me again, why should I do it?

Tim: because I and Bernard are in our sabbat year and we all know how dad is when he is focused and your grades are perfect, Damian, no one would bother if you skip some class to help in this case

Damian: >tt< it's better you give me a nice souvenir when you come back, Timothy

_______

Damian: Jason... Why are you in my kitchen?

Jason: There's a bullet in my leg and I need you to take it out

Damian: ... You have luck that Alfred the cat like you

Jason: Are you not fixing this with magic?

Damian: How did you get shot?

Jason: ...me and my friends are drunk

Damian: you don't deserve magic

_____

Jon: Dami, please please please please please

Damian: I'm not a hero Jon, how do you expect me to invade the Luthor computer to help you? Do you want me to commit a crime?

Jon: please Damian! It's really important this time, I swear!

Damian: >tt< I'm in

Jon: you're the best Dami!

____

Damian gets an internship at the zoo and a group of criminals decide to steal the animals for genetic experiments

Damian: ... not in my watch

Damian, defeat the criminals and save everyone: you're late, it's yours and the girls' day shift

Duke: honestly? we came slowly because we knew you were here

___

Damian: today I just want to garden and read my shoujos

*literally aliens*

And the shit goes, sometimes he needs to be Batman because Bruce is old and needs help in some cases, and obviously the class "I'm not Batman!" basically adopt some random stray kid as young sibling now and carry them around everywhere

And also he will call his siblings for their first names in the future because they get Damian's trust but the most important family members still are: Alfred, Dick and Steph

And as a cherry on top: "you know what? I'm leaving! I can't have a shit in Gotham! I'm moving to Blüdhaven!"

Dick Grayson slowly picks up the box with a flamebird costume that "conveniently" fits on Damian perfectly

I say this because this boy has been disappointed by so many adults in his life and continues to be Robin, so the only conclusion is: he likes being a hero, not because of his father, but because of himself. That's why he wasn't just going to stop being a vigilant, he was going to continue being a hero even when he wanted peace

[browneyedboys]

will you walk me home

you can find my other work here!

Pairing: rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: cursing, frat parties, light discussion of alcohol, overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 2.3K

Synopsis: Second chance encounters with Rafe Cameron lead to discussions of fate and the idea of what happens when you go to frat parties. (second part to libraries after midnight)

a/n: okay so maybe this will be a series?! I'm having fun with this concept and I still promise nothing, feedback is always appreciated! 

The next time you see Rafe Cameron, only a few days later, you’re celebrating. The conclusion of midterms means that you’re slightly less stressed on a daily basis, a cause for celebration. You manage to convince Paige, your big, and some other girls to go to a Phi Gam party with you, only slightly hoping to run into your favorite golden boy. 

An hour or so passes and you’ve managed to go from sober to a flushed, giggling mess. Alcohol always manages to get your blood pumping to exactly where you don’t want it. The loud bass booms through the house and seems to come to rest in your lungs. It’s as they’ve developed their own beat. The slightly suffocating feeling manages to suck you back into reality; you need some air.

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes,” you call to Paige, watching as she nods and turns to some of your sisters you both had been dancing with before. Shoving through the crowd, you pick up on the panicky feeling in your chest. There are too many people close to you, it’s too loud, and you’ve already had a big week. 

You finally reach the back door of the house, pulling it open in time to quell your beating heart. You usually excel in social situations, well at least enough to where you enjoy yourself. It seems with the intensity of the week a party wasn’t the best idea. Finding purchase on a brick retaining wall, you bring your knees to your chest and settle your head into the space between. The 4-7-8 count of breath that you learned for your anxiety helps a bit. 

Four seconds you breathe in, seven you hold it in, eight you let it go. Crowds never were your thing. Alcohol never really lets you free, it just makes you more giggly or sad, depending on the week. This week it leaned more towards the latter and the crowd around you came crashing down. 

“Hey, you okay?” You’re pulled from your breathing exercise, and in consequence from your thoughts. Lifting your head out of your knees, you find the perfect picture of Rafe standing before you. He holds a drink in his hand, his eyebrows pulled together as he maintains his gaze on you. Blinking, you extract your gaze from him, returning to your shell. 

You nod, a bit too quickly to be convincing, then resume your attempt to regain your breath. “I just…” you pause, marveling at the breeze on your arms, “I’ve never really gotten used to being in a crowd of people yet never feeling more lonely, you know?”

Rafe exhales, you watch him shift foot to foot through the little crack between your legs. His feet then step and disappear as you feel the warmth that radiates off of him settle beside you. A hand comes to rest between your shoulder blades, thumb tracing the juts of your spine. 

It’s so quiet behind the booming house you can nearly hear his breathing. You make your best effort to match your own breath to the rhythmic pace of Rafe’s thumb. As it swoops up the valley of your spine you pull air in, down you purse your lips and exhale. Little else seems to pull your thoughts from how nice it is to find peace in another person’s presence.

You’re so used to putting on a front or willing more energy to meet the expectations of others. All your life, it has felt like only a select few people truly manage to see how you are. Unbothered in the natural state, you feel at ease with this boy you’ve only really talked to twice. It’s an entirely cliche thought — but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. You’re not sure if romantic soulmates exist but they have to in some capacity. People just seem to fit together in such unique ways, it can’t be only a billion coincidences. 

It would crush your soul to learn that the little connections in daily life happen due to mere circumstance. Like people on their deathbed call out to god — you can’t go about your life with no strings. It’s a terrifying thought that nothing draws people together. Fate has to exist. 

“What’s pulling you from life?” Rafe voices barely louder than a whisper. The rises and falls of his speech fits right in with the atmosphere around the two of you. 

You lift your head from your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You tilt your head to the side until you’ve squished your cheek just slightly, taking in the way Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Does it freak you out how many people live on this spinning ball? How every decision you make affects the entire trajectory of your life? How you could pass by the person you belong with because of something stupid?”

“Woah,” Rafe exhales, softly grinning at you, “That’s a minor crisis, I try not to think about everything too much. It’s so much easier to go about day to day life not in my own brain but sometimes I do think about that. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, even something stupid.”

You nod along with his words, if anything, Rafe seems to agree with you. 

“I mean even just me walking out here at the moment when I saw you could be seen as some twist of fate. It’s really easy to get lost in the world at times but I try to not overthink everything. How would you even know that they’re the person you belong with until you take the time to get to know them.”

“But fate has to play a part, right?” You question, lifting your head from your knees. You shift to sit like a pretzel carefully balanced on the wall. 

The uncertainty of your voice throws Rafe for a loop. This version of you is starkly different to the girl who told off his dad a few days ago. The crease between your eyebrows beckons him to solve all your problems like you tried to do for him. With a gentle manner, he smooths out the creases with his thumb. “That’s up for you to decide, honey. If fate is something that makes you feel better about the world then there is no harm in believing in it. What’s the difference between believing in fate and believing in a god? Both offer the same reassurances about what we don’t know.”

“Sometimes it feels like I don’t know a whole lot.” You murmur, the air gains a chill as your words leave your lips. October means the changing of the seasons and a whole lot of things to look forward to, but right now it's all a bit too much. Life feels so demanding. 

Rafe’s thumb traces your brow, pausing on your temple. Warmth cascades down the side of your face before his hand eventually settles, cupping your jaw. “You don’t have to know anything,” Rafe hums, “I mean you’re what, 20? You still have the rest of your life to figure it out.”

“I’m usually a giggly drunk,” you complain, leaning into the warmth of his hand on your face. Your eyes flutter every so slightly as the week seems to catch up to you. It’s so nice to have somebody out here with you. It would be too cold on your own. Even the pause between your own speech feels right. You don’t overthink your every movement around the golden boy. “What happened to me?”

The weight of your head in his hand prompts Rafe to shift closer to you. Your knee overlaps his thigh as you lean into his touch. “I’m sure you’ve had a long week; you’re probably exhausted and then you got overstimulated in there.” He’s so tempted to draw you into his arms and never let you go. He could spend a lifetime protecting you, like the way you did against his dad. “Maybe you should get some rest, call it an early night from the thrills of Phi Gam.” He proposes when the moments when your eyes are closed outweigh the moments they’re open. Rafe feels a new tug in his chest. He thinks an invisible string might tie your pinky to his. 

Your eyes meet his. You trace the shadows across his face, sharply contrasting to how he looked the last time you saw him. Maybe if you spend enough time noting the way he looks at you you’ll understand what it is you're feeling. The feeling that prompts you to ask, “Can you walk me home again?” 

Rafe’s quick to agree, with a short, “Of course, honey.” It turns your insides gooey like his term of endearment. You could get used to Rafe’s company. As you both stand, his hands leave a cold trail in their absence. 

The boom of the party increases as you make your way back towards the house. The lawn, green in the way that only money can achieve, is littered with far more people than when you first pushed through the doors. Perhaps everyone realized just how suffocating the air is inside. You glance over your shoulder as you step back inside, double checking that Rafe is behind you. Or maybe it's just an excuse to take another glimpse at the golden boy. The too warm air rushes into your lungs. It stinks of too many bodies who are at least a little wasted. 

He smiles at you, dropping his lips to your ear. “Do you need to make your rounds and say goodbye?” Rafe’s whisper elicits goosebumps. You shake your head; you can just text Paige that you went home. It’s not like you’re the designated driver or that you were incredibly drunk. It’s too loud for you to vocalize your entire thought process so you just continue through the house. Rafe’s hand find’s purchase on the small of your back as the people get denser. His thumb resumes its pace from earlier, moving back and forth. 

Rafe has come to recognize the scrunch between your eyebrows as a stress indicator. Watching the way it dissolves slightly as he guides you through the house, only for your brows to pull together as a person stills your path. Preston, Rafe’s fraternity brother stands in front of the pair of you. 

“Cameron!” Preston calls out. “I’ve missed you buddy. Where’ve you been?” He sways back and forth with the constitution of a giraffe. Rafe has always had a soft spot for Preston; they went through rush together and endured some stupid shit. He is the closest thing that Rafe has to a family out here. 

“Hey Preston, I’m going to walk Cory home and then I’ll be back okay. We can hang out after that.” Rafe answers in what he hopes will be both his first and last response. He can tell you just want to go home. 

Your eyes follow Preston as he stills, seemingly realizing that you’re right in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Cory, Rafe’s asked me a hundred questions about you since that one night.” The implication of his statement hangs in the air, swirling with the idea of Rafe thinking of you as much as you think of him. 

“Oh, it’s great to meet you too!” You flash him a smile before glancing over your shoulder, wanting nothing more than to catch Rafe looking even a little bit flustered. It’s nice to know that you’re not the only one a little hung up on your shared interactions. Rafe meets your eyes with a faint grin. He doesn’t look pink but you miss the way he shook his head when Preston said what he did. He’s had a few seconds to recover, for which he is eternally grateful. 

“Well good night,” you duck around Preston, who has grown distracted by the lights dancing across the ceiling. Once you make it to the front of the house your idea of the night comes crashing back on you. Midterms and their conclusion was supposed to mean a break from the chaos that is your life but you seem to attract just a bit of chaotic energy wherever you go. 

The air has grown chillier in the few minutes you made your way through the frat house, or perhaps you got used to the stale air inside. Either way goosebumps creep up your arms, something Rafe notices with a surprising amount of speed. He shifts closer to you as you walk towards Pi Phi’s house, moving his arm from your back to your shoulders. He draws you ever so slightly towards him. 

Something about the ease you seem to instill in him causes Rafe to be a bit more direct. “Preston really did just call me out, but he’s right, in all his tipsy truth, I do like you…”

His honesty catches you off guard. “Rafe.” The short walk concludes as the pair of you draw on the start of the walkway to your house. You step out of his bubble, “I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts with a finger gracing your lips, it tugs your bottom lip with a comforting heaviness, “I just wanted you to know. You’ve had a long night and I’m sure you need a few days to process everything. Goodnight Cory.” Rafe takes a step back from you, his finger falling from your mouth. He hesitates just out of reach. 

Against his better judgment he quickly takes a step forward and presses a chase kiss on your forehead. Warmth blooms from the spot where his lips made contact long after his figure retreats back to his frat house. It stays even after you wash your face and put on your matching pajama set. In bed you trace the spot with a memory, smiling yourself into a dream filled night. 

[wildemaven]

fall apart, again : chapter four | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x ofc!genevieve word count: 3156 content warning: 18+ blog; heavy angst, child loss, talk of death, talking about Sarah, heavy emotions, grief, fluff, vague talk about being with other people while married (but neither know the other was alive/nocheating), reader has a name but has zero descriptive features, reader is wearing some of Joel's clothes, no age given but is within a couple of years of Joel, if l've missed anything please let me know notes: oh look what I managed to whip up! Joel was on the brain and I was thinking of these two so I just let things flow- needed a break from Dave I guess. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her continued support and help as I worked through this— love you!! This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator. series masterlist | previous | next

Contentment blooms somewhere deep within you. It fills in every fractured part of you that’s been lost and forgotten for so long. It brings a sense of peace, a feeling that you’ve searched for through bleak and uncertain times.

There’s a twinge of guilt that starts to prick at you, shame at how quickly familiarity has settled in. Less than 24 hours ago, your life had shattered on that hillside. Leaving you broken and left to figure out how to move forward with little hope of ever finding placidity of any sort. Only to seemingly be put back together after stepping foot into this new place, reacquainted with your old life. For it to be ripped apart again. 

You decide to focus on the stillness that bleeds through the morning air. Focus on how sleep came with ease as you settled into bed, far easier than it should have— has been for years. Focus on the way the sunlight catches the tiny dust particles that have been floating in front of the bedroom window for the last hour, each one on its own lofty path. Focus on the warmth that radiates from Joel as he still sleeps soundly next to you. His body instinctively found yours in the night— after all this time, he still fit perfectly against you. 

Joel. Your Joel. Alive and here with you. 

Your mind tries to replay every detail that has led you to this conclusion, replaying that reunion over and over. A happenstance of pure luck that you’re here, laying in the arms of your husband. 

A second chance? But why? Even as you will yourself to revel in the beauty of reconnecting with Joel, your heart still fights to grieve— Steve… Sarah. 

“Whatcha dream about?” A question you haven’t heard in two decades, Joel’s voice low and laced with sleep as his lips brush over that little spot behind your ear. 

It transports you back to a time where mornings together were sacred and unhurried. The sun barely pours through the opening in the curtains, still enough darkness to remain entangled and unbothered by the day's menacing agenda. Joel’s warm body spooning you from behind, his leg anchored between yours, a heavy arm securing you to him. 

Whatcha dream about? Was his good morning-love you-how did you sleep? He’d listen intently as you spoke about the wild imagery that filled your mind through the night. Whether it was a silly little blip of a dream or some drawn out story that had you dissecting its meaning far longer than your mornings allowed, Joel was fully invested. Humming along as he absorbed the details, only interrupting in the form of feather light kisses he strategically placed on the little spot behind your ear, the crook of your neck and slope of your shoulder. 

In turn, you always asked him the same. What dreams graced Joel Miller's brilliant mind? And he always responded the same, I don’t need to dream when I have you. 

“About that one summer, I think Sarah was 8, maybe 9. We decided to have that barbecue, and invited all the neighbors over.” Joel’s nose gently slides over your ear, his forehead resting against the side of your head. “Sarah was in heaven with that slip n slide she begged us to get once the heat finally hit. We had to beg all the kids to take a break so we could fill them up with hotdogs and chips— then they were right back at it again. I remember a few of them cried when their parents told them it was time to leave, but Sarah being so sweet told them they could come back again the following weekend.” 

Joel’s arm tightens around you as you talk, soaking in the memory he so vividly remembers. Sitting together on the blanket you had laid out on the lawn, tucked into his side as you both sipped on ice tea while you watched Sarah and the remaining few neighborhood kids, hyped up on soda and popsicles, splashing down the plastic water slide until the sun finally dipped below the back fencing. 

“That was the same weekend Tommy thought he was invincible. Made it a whole two slides before he was hollerin’ like a baby and I was drivin’ his dumbass to the urgent care.” You can feel Joel grinning as he recalls his own recollection of that day, little puffs of air hitting your neck followed by a singular kiss— his lips hesitate briefly, lingering just enough to not make you uneasy, but enough to convey the love he still holds for you. 

“Yeah— I can’t remember if it was the blonde or the redhead he was trying to impress that time. He got her number either way,” you add on. Joel’s light hearted laugh doesn’t go unnoticed, you smile at the sound as a single tear plunges into existence, rolling down your cheek and falling to the cotton pillowcase below. 

Tommy. 

“Tommy—“ You gasp, your stomach drops at the notion of Joel losing his brother. Turning in his arms so you're facing him, Joel’s eyes fluttering open at the sensation of you lightly brushing over his patches of grey whiskers . “Tommy. I— he’s…”

“He’s alive.” Joel’s expression is soft as he says it, his heavy lids lifting to take all of you in, grateful that this wasn’t some ruthless dream his mind was torturing him with. 

“What— Tommy’s alive? Where is he?”

“Here. He’s kind of in charge— always wanted make a name for himself somehow. Him and Maria actually put this whole place together.” His heart nearly gives out seeing your face light up. 

Joel takes advantage of the proximity, really taking in every detail of you in this morning light. He’s not surprised how even as the world shifted into darkness, you still managed to emerge into this season of life so gracefully. Noting how so much of you has changed, in gradual ways he wishes he could have witnessed first hand, but you’re still you— even more beautiful than he remembered. 

“Maria— She’s Tommy’s wife?” You ask, softly laughing as your mind begins to connect the dots to when she had mentioned you would be staying in her brother in law's house and elated Tommy had found himself such a strong woman to settle down with. 

“Yeah. Maria invited us over for dinner— whenever you feel up to it.

“Mmhmm. Yeah, I’d like that.”

You watch your fingers trace over Joel’s golden skin, still soft but slightly matured with age. Their curiosity produces tiny goosebumps as you reacquaint yourself with each tiny freckle and ridges of his chest. 

Joel’s own fingers dance over the hem of the shirt you're wearing. There’s hesitation at first, bloodshed and sacrifice embedded into every creased line, every rigid callus he’s collected. The weight of them is too rough and repulsive to share with you. But you don’t notice the way they’re marked with flaws gained through surviving and enduring. His progress becomes less reluctant as he soothes over the sliver of exposed skin on your hip, resisting his own temptation actively burning through him. 

“Did you and Tommy come here together?” 

“We went to find you, but the hospital was empty by the time we got there— just assumed, you not bein’ there meant that you were…” Dead. “We left Texas, eventually made our way up north to the Boston QZ— taken in by Tess and her crew— had us smuggling. Tommy being Tommy, was fed up with it, you know how he gets. So he left, joined the Fireflies before finding Maria and settling here.”

It’s condensed. Leaving out how the obscure nature of this world had hardened him into a depleted shell of a man. He knows it will eat away at him, keeping it from you. Though for the time being, it’s a burden he’s willing to carry. 

“We kept in touch for some years after through the radio but then he stopped contactin’ me. Tess n’ I decide to go find him— how we got the girl.” 

“Ellie?” You pull your head back and settle onto your pillow, watching as Joel’s face morphs through a multitude of emotions as he speaks. 

“Yeah, Ellie. After Tess— she was bit— I had to save who I could and keep movin’. We finally made it here, Ellie and I. She’s a spitfire that girl. I was such an asshole to her too, but she never gave up on me— think she saved me more than she realizes.” 

“Ellie mentioned her yesterday, Tess. You two were— partners?” 

“We— she and I were— we—“ Joel finds it hard at this moment to put an exact label on what they were, especially when explaining it to you, his wife.

It’s evident Joel harbors the same guilt as you. The two of you navigating a new life apart, your hearts seeking refuge in this destroyed world. You can see it, the shame slowly stitching its way into Joel’s features. How it pains him to verbalize it to you. To admit to something that in a different setting, your old life with him, would rip you apart.  

“Joel, it’s fine— whatever you both meant to each other. We were apart, not knowing the other was alive. You don’t have to explain anything to me.” You pause briefly. You let your own words sink in. Steve still heavily in your peripheral thoughts. 

This is your chance to start over, to be happy— do that for me?

Steve’s last moments with you, a premonition of sorts. This is your starting over. Here. Back together with Joel. A man you’ve held in your heart during the darkest of times for so long. 

“There was— I wasn’t alone either.” Joel's quiet but lends you his full attention, giving you the impression you don’t need to explain or justify anything either. “He was bit right before we got here.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

There’s a lull in the conversation. The room is quiet as you both bask in each other’s touch. The inevitable of what’s been left unsaid hanging over you both like an ominous cloud of dread. Joel is already preparing himself for what you’re expecting to hear. Your heart prepares itself for the inevitable of what you want to know. 

You swallow the lump that’s settled in your throat. “Was she here— did Sarah come here with you?” Your fingers stilling over a familiar scar on his shoulder that you’ve traced over a hundred times in the past. 

“Eve— we don’t have to talk about this today.” Not really sure if it’s for your benefit or his— perhaps both. 

“Joel— please.” Your voice cracks ever so slightly, lifting your gaze to his, tears already burning your lash line. 

He falters. Considering the caliber at which you have lost already, his heart begins to construct walls. Solid and impervious to the reality that’s haunted him for so long. Locking it away as he always does, suppressing the pain over and over. But as you look at him with your eyes glossed over, ignoring the subject isn’t an option anymore. Not with you. Not with the woman who gave him his purpose, his life— his babygirl. 

“No. She didn’t.” He releases a heavy sigh. “She— it was the first night of the outbreak—“ His voice trails off when he sees you’ve figured out the rest, nodding as your own tears silently overflow. 

Joel’s breath hitches. Reliving the incident through your eyes has what is left of his heart shattering against his chest.

Fail her. Again and again. 

You feel it in your bones. A hurt so deep it feels unbearable. Beyond any capacity you think you can handle. It splinters and forks out, penetrating every layer of your being. 

Joel wraps his arm around you, seeking a closeness he’s longed for in your arms. 

You cling to him desperately. Trembling as your hearts fuse together, reinforcing a love that’s managed to withstand lost time. Picking up where you both left off— 21 years ago. 

*

It’s some hours later. Tears dried and breathing settled. The heat radiating from the window warms the bedroom a few degrees above the morning chill. 

Shuffling coming from downstairs wakes Joel. Pots and pans clanging about, alerts Joel that Ellie’s grudge against him was short lived, for now at least, especially since it seems as though hunger has struck. He knows he’ll have to face her sooner than later, snuff out any remaining teenage rage still actively smoldering.

A glimmer of light refracts off the window pane, collecting in the tiny diamond nestled in the center of the ring on your left hand that’s resting on his chest. 

It draws him in. Like a moth to a lit flame, mesmerized by the sight, needing to consume its beauty wholly. His fingers fidget with the dainty gold band, again struck by how you still felt compelled to hold true to the vows you both shared, evident in the way you're still wearing it. 

Joel’s contemplation of the ring pulls you from the edge of sleep. The stammering of his heart, wavering somewhere between a nervousness or exultant leveled rhythm, is the first sound you audibly recognize as your eyes take in the rest of the room. 

“You’re still wearing it.” Joel's voice rumbles through his rib cage against the walls of his chest. 

“Hmm?” Your sleep addled mind absorbing and deciphering to its best ability. 

He lifts your hand, thumb running over your most treasured possession. Your fingers splay out above where you both still lay in Joel’s bed, cotton sheets kicked away, neither of you willing to let go of the other. 

“Yeah— kept me going when I didn’t have any reason to.” 

The watch still wrapped around his wrist doesn’t go unnoticed. Its face no longer resembles the pristine condition it once had. The arms frozen in place. A time forever displayed as such. The cause of its destruction is not of importance right now— another time. 

“Wait— I have something.” It’s all you say before you extract yourself from Joel’s arms. “My bag.”

Joel sits up alongside you, pointing to the corner of the room. Your tattered leather bag slumped on the floor next to the wooden dresser. 

Your tired legs carry you to your belongings on the other side of the room. The floorboards cool beneath your feet during the short distance it takes to grab the bag and haul it back to the bed where Joel rests propped against the headboard. The mattress dips as you climb back in, reclaiming the space next to him. 

Joel watches as you sift through the opening, in search of something hidden within the bag’s contents, in a spot only known to you. 

A small smile breaks across your face the second your fingers clasp around the small item. 

“I made it back to the house after some time— had to see if I could find you. It was sitting in its usual spot in our bedroom. It’s been with me ever since.”

Your fingers slowly unfurl, revealing a simple gold band resting in your palm. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

Everything stills as you watch Joel take in the sight of his wedding. Find it hard to discern what he’s feeling at this moment. His relaxed features now clouded by sadness and confusion, causing you to second guess your intentions for wanting him to have it back at this time. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want it right now— or ever. I know this is all still a lot to take in for both of us. So I understand if you don’t. I just—“ 

“No— No, Eve. I do. I definitely do want it.”

It fits back where it was intended to be with ease. The metal intense the second it makes contact with your skin, Joel’s large hands cradling your face as he delivers a gentle kiss of gratitude to you. 

“Thank you. For keeping it safe for me.” He says softly against your smile. “Forever mine.”

“Forever yours.”

*

Joel’s moving about, pulling clothes from over stuffed drawers, dressing himself for the day. You're occupied on the edge of the bed, unpacking the remaining items from your bag in preparation to find permanence in this space Joel calls home. He’d mentioned the idea of you living here with him, giving you the option of taking his room for yourself while he camped out in the living room, which you turned down immediately. You had just gotten him back, and you wanted it to stay that way. So you agreed to stay permanently in his room, under the condition that he would be in it too. 

The bed shifts when Joel sits next to you, groaning as he leans down to pull on and lace up his scuffed work boots. 

“What all you got in there?” Joel’s focus oscillates between you and his hands working at his worn laces, watching you empty 21 years worth of life that’s been crammed into the small space. 

“Pad of paper, a few books, some maps, some first aid equipment, a change of clothes that desperately needs to be cleaned.” He listens to you intently, the bag deflating as you pull each item, inspecting it then strategically organizing them on the bed for the time being, glancing over when you hear Joel chuckling as you rattle off one thing after the next. “Some other random things I’ve collected over the years.”

Everything accounted for, you toss your bag to the side. It hits the floor with a muffled thud in front of Joel’s boots. You miss the small folded paper that slips onto the patterned rug that lays beneath the bed. 

“This somethin’ of importance?” Joel asks, hold the paper between two fingers. 

“Not sure. Might just be some trash.” Taking it from him, promptly unfolding it for further consideration. 

It’s a letter. Not one of your own, although it’s directly addressed to you. Your eyes flit over every word. Then once more. And then again. Picking up on key words each read through. 

Eve… Genevieve… Jackson… Radio… Joel… Bit… I’ll be waiting for your letter… I love you… 

“What is it?” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh, your silence slowly becoming worrisome as you stare at the paper, its edges crinkled in your grip. 

“Joel— what’s your job here?” Your voice cracks in the air. 

“Patrol mainly. Took over the radio sometime ago. Help out here and there— wherever I can. Why?” His thumb strokes over your leg, a subtle mixture of coaxing and grounding, equally preparing himself for whatever it is that you’ve just happened upon. 

Each droplet hits the paper with a sharp plunk. 

Plunk. Plunk. Plunk. 

The words blurring, squeezing your eyes shut tightly, releasing the tears all at once. 

Plunk. Plunk. Plunk. 

“Eve— what is it?”

“You helped guide Steve and I here—“

[yuri-is-online]

...so you just threw this beautiful idea of Fyuuture kid, and left me with a brainrot? Especially after you answered one ask with i quote "he loves his parent so much and was really fighting it to keep it together when he saw them alive again" end of the quote. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN? WHAT? HOW?

ask 1 and ask 2

Oh 👉👈? I wasn't expecting to get an ask about this au ever again actually, but I am so glad you did, I like it a lot. I mentioned Fire Emblem Awakening in the first ask I got about it but for those of you who haven't played the game, the plot features the children of your army traveling back in time to try and prevent the end of the world. That's more or less what happened in the fyuuture kid au, at least in my first draft... I always end up associating the "future kid meets their parents" trope with either FE: Awakening or I guess Golden Sun? Which I think is the name of the jrpg where something similar happens idk I just like there being a reason for the kid to need to meet their parents.

In my original draft of the au, Yuu was told by Crowley there was no way home for them, so they settled down with Yutu's father and started building a life together. This turned out to not be true, as the Magical Marshall's office began investigating the overblots that happened while Yuu was in school and came to the conclusion Yuu had something to do with them; so they were secretly arrested, cursed to forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, and sent home. The curse was meant to trigger every time Yuu vaguely remembered their time in the otherworld, with the idea their brain would prevent them from thinking about it after a while. They would have justified it, if anyone had been there to ask, by saying Yuu wouldn't know they were missing anything and would be able to live a happy life. When Yutu was born that made that outcome impossible, but the Marshal's office didn't think to check if Yuu was pregnant...

Shortly after they did that though strange things started happening. Monster attacks got more frequent, blot levels started rising, not to extremes immediately but still enough to be concerning. Reports of a strange, abyssal magic using beast, started pouring in to S.T.Y.X. suspiciously close to Grim's description. While Yuu was busy trying to put their life back together in their world, Twisted Wonderland slowly began to fall apart drowning under an ink colored sky. The overblot phantoms they fought come back and begin hunting in their respective homelands, and rumor has it they can turn certain mages into their thralls...

The curse slowly eats away at Yuu's brain, every time they see something that reminds them of their friends, their time at NRC, every time Yutu does something that would make them think about how much he takes after his dad, they feel a great deal of physical pain and temporarily lose the ability to function. It's killing them, and no doctor or specialist can figure out the cause, so Yutu just has to sit there and watch his parent slowly die and not be able to do anything about it. I was uncertain of where exactly I wanted Yuu to die in the story, but it always was around when Yutu gets isekaid to NRC, either before and he had to leave them behind or after when they both get to go home finally! But Yuu doesn't completely make it, they're able to have one moment of peace with their son and Professor Crewel before passing on.

Yutu's dad changes depending on who you want it to be of course, as does whether they met before he and his friends decided to go back in time to prevent this version of the future from ever happening, but his feelings about Yuu never changes. Yutu really admires his parent, he did even before he learned about them facing down overblots! They were really close and the more he learned about their curse, the more responsible he felt for their death. He's very determined to keep Yuu alive and safe in Twisted Wonderland in this timeline, even if it costs him his life.

His opinion on his dad really changes depending on who it is and what he learns about them. Like can you imagine learning your dad was known for being obsessed with teeth and no he had no intention of being a dentist? Clown behavior 💀💀💀 His friends were all ocs I made but never really developed... I do remember that one was a younger sibling of Kalim's (who could be his aunt if you like Kalim and absolutely embraces that role), her retainer, Crewel's son who also sees himself as Yutu's uncle (the feeling isn't mutual) because he is old enough to sort of remember Yuu and thinks of them as a sibling, and a random oc I based off of the kid from Up for no reason other than I like the movie. They also came back in time, but only Yutu ended up in the right place, just like fire emblem awakening.

idk I should probably do something with it. like writing the reactions for the other dorms...

[marshmallowprotection]

Jihyun's new birthday CG is out! I am surprised that it doesn't fulfill the theme that we have used thus far, the theme of the characters being children. However, I'm going to comment on something that I don't think anybody is going to talk about since this is V, after all.

First of all, you guys should be jumping up and down at the moment because this is the first time he's ever had a kiss picture. I am so sorry it took this long for you guys to get a sweet kiss with your very tragic artist, but this is your lucky day. I never thought he was going to get kiss contents so I am pleasantly surprised in the best way. 

Second of all, as I saw this picture last night, the first thing that came to mind was that whatever painting was going to be on his easel, was going to be something significant in my head no matter what.

This is just my conclusion, and it's something that I'm going to continue to keep in my brain no matter what since it can't be proven one way or the other, but I do believe this painting is a recreation of the one he ripped to shreds after that final argument with his mother. 

Here's the crucial detail, he's not trying to recreate a one-for-one copy of what he created. I believe he is revisiting it because what is a better homage to his childhood than going back to the very thing that caused the Catalyst event in his life in the first place? He denied himself the ability to be the painter he wanted to be when he was young, and he said awful things to his mother that he could never take back. 

Revisiting something he tore to shreds would allow him the opportunity to have something substantial to look at, to say to himself, “I am no longer denying my creative process, and as I remake this painting that my mother loved, I want nothing more than to be able to feel that same liberating feeling I felt and tried to crush because I was too insecure to live my dream.” 

Even the event is him learning how to be a better partner who communicates with you. That's something he has to do in his good ending, and that's where this takes place. I want nothing more than for him to finally have some peace in his heart about what happened to his mother, and now that he's come full circle and learned that her sacrifice wasn't a sentiment he needed to take to heart as a lesson to never abandon people, even if those people hurt you. 

That wasn't why his mother sacrificed her life for him. She did that because she loved him and that was her only child. She was his mother and she loved him no matter what. The horrible words he said out of insecurity were never something she was upset about, she was saddened, more than anything.

She wanted her son to follow his dreams, even if one day he couldn't continue those dreams.

Much like how she had to stop her passionate career as a violinist because she wasn't sure how to continue playing after losing much of her hearing. But she still got to spend so many years of her life following her passion, and even if she couldn't continue it, she still had the chance to do it. She didn't want her son to snuff out his own passion well before he even tried. So, by revisiting that painting, doing it again, and putting back in what he's learned over the years, it's the opportunity of a lifetime to make peace with himself. 

He's living as himself and I think that's a nice way to tie in the childhood theme without actually having him be a child. It's not like we haven't had a photo of him as a child on the title screen before, actually, one of his last birthdays gave us a photo of him and his mother. 

[shiut]

How much did Yakou know?

Very long and detailed analysis of Yakou's involvement in the plot beneath the cut.

Yakou is an interesting character to me. He gets his own mildly insightful short story about his detective origins. However, I crave to think that there's gotta be more to him than just the kind of pathetic (affectionate) stressed out dad-like figure that mostly kind of nags and bosses Yuma around for the majority of the game.

Ok, it sounds like I'm ragging on him, but he does have an occasional side of him in dire situations where he shows a selfless loyalty and trust in his team that proves he takes his leadership position seriously, even if he does really rock the irresponsible mess look. And he gets to be cool in his own chapter for a minute.

But there is a moment that sticks out to me, especially in hindsight after finishing the game, and that's the prologue where you get your first and probably most substantial talk with him.

He says that he does not want Kanai Ward to change practically within the same breath where he explains how terribly he's treated as a detective in this horrendously corrupt murder infested police state.

Although he makes it clear that he has a deep personal affection and nostalgic attachment to this city that shows a bias for why he would say this, we hear from multiple people throughout the game that Kanai Ward has not been the same in recent years as it has been in the past that Yakou has rooted his love in.

So why does he feel as if any change to the current state of Kanai Ward would disrupt the "peace and quiet" it deserves?

Unless he knows something about the city that's just so fundamentally irreparable that this is the closest to peace and quiet that it'll ever get again, and trying to fix it would only somehow destroy it.

Everything about the rooftop scene, from talking about the city, to Shinigami commenting on how ominous he feels to her, to the fact that he's the person who explains the rumor that the rain affects peoples' bodies.

Highlighted text tends to be easy to overlook, but I can't help but feel like there's some significance to his usage of "illusion in the rain". It's like he knows something that nobody else can see (and an obvious foreshadowing of how the rain is one of the main means of covering up Kanai Ward's mystery).

But this segues into the themes of his later chapter which also focuses on Vivia, who mirrors Yakou in a lot of ways, beyond just being another guy who muses on about peace and quiet.

Speaking of, a mirror is what Vivia uses as a metaphor for the benefit of blissful ignorance and the potential catastrophic dangers of the painful truth.

For the purposes of this chapter, he is explaining the type of pain and the effect on Yuma's world view that uncovering Yakou's crime will incur. It also acts as a setup for the development of Yuma's conviction that he will later need to use in the final chapter of the game. But the distorted reality the Vivia explains in the mirror does call me back to Yakou's "illusion in the rain" comment.

Vivia also explains that the truth that Yuma uncovers for truth's sake will lead to the destruction of the world. While he could be referring to the world and humanity in general, in the context of this chapter, world can mean a lot of things though, such as Yuma's innocence in the way he views the world as he knows it.

Or namely, from Makoto's point of view, it could also mean the destruction of the homunculi and the only version of the world that Makoto believes they can exist in.

Did Yakou come to a similar conclusion as Makoto based on what he found out?

Like Vivia in chapter 4, who did not want the culprit to be revealed, it seemed like Yakou had the full intention of not cooperating with investigating the Kanai Ward mystery until he was forced to by a directive from Number One. Even so, he came off as if encouraging the detectives to drag their feet on it for the sake of staying out of trouble.

But we know that he is not lazy, unmotivated, or stupid. In a world where you're competing with people who are fast-tracked into the WDO if they have literal super powers, Yakou was inducted by pure detective skill. He had definitely been spending a lot of his time laying low and investigating Kanai Ward himself, because he didn't trust the UG or the WDO if they turned their attention to the city.

Yakou already knew about the homunculus research in some way.

Even if he didn't know about everyone being a homunculus, he at least knew enough that he believed that the city itself would be shattered by the involvement of the UG and WDO.

And then we get to chapter 5 with the mindless zombie homunculi.

Except, they're not all completely mindless. As a matter of fact, I had come to notice something about all the non-aggressive homunculi: they all seemed to have some degree of awareness about Amaterasu's research.

The fake Zilch, who was one of Yomi's closest advisors and knew about all of Dr Huesca's and Yomi's activity in the lab concerning homunculus research, and was implied to be the one who killed Yakou's wife for whistleblowing. Fink, who was propositioned by Makoto himself to infiltrate the lab, and who was then killed by Makoto for 'knowing too much'. Dr Huesca, who was the head researcher for the homunculi. And the former CEO, who was the prime overseer of the research.

And then there was Yakou, who gives Yuma the video evidence of Dr Huesca's death at the hands of the homunculi as he explained the results of the experiment. The easy explanation is that Makoto planted this video on the zombie Yakou to be given to Yuma in the restricted area.

However, another thing that the non-aggressive zombies had in common is that they seemed to be stuck thinking about what seems to be their final thoughts before their death, barring the former CEO who was unusually lucid compared to all of them.

Considering this, I feel like Yakou's final thoughts were for Yuma to expose the truth about the homunculi for him, and to give him the DVD as the key evidence he needed. Whether Makoto gave Yakou this video, or if Yakou already had this video himself, his final thought before dying was to make sure Yuma got it.

I always thought it was a bit strange for Yakou to go and decide to murder Dr Huesca at the slightest provocation by Yomi, and then had this whole complicated coverup plan. If Kurumi could look into Yakou's background for only a day and come to the conclusion that Amaterasu had killed his wife for whistleblowing, then Yakou himself would've definitely already known and could've tried to kill Dr Huesca a long time ago.

I don't think the provocation was by Yomi's letter. I believe at some point, he had found out that Huesca and Yomi could possibly leak information about the homunculus research. He decided to kill Huesca as a gambit reveal Yomi's involvement with leaking research before it could get out into the public and destroy Kanai Ward, and he entrusted this truth to Yuma and the rest of his detectives. Yakou knew that the lie that they were living, the one that was keeping Kanai Ward together, wasn't going to last much longer.

This conveniently aligned with Makoto's motives to oust Yomi. Makoto, the one who also knew that Yomi would cause the lie holding Kanai Ward together to unravel, and who happened to introduce Fink to Yakou. Fink thought that Yakou did not know about Makoto orchestrating their meeting, and perhaps he was right in that Yakou didn't know that it was Makoto specifically, but maybe Makoto was the one who tipped Yakou off to Amaterasu's homunculus research possibly being leaked and may have even given Yakou the DVD.

Makoto may not have exactly manipulated Yakou. It just simply that both Yakou and Makoto similarly knew that the UG sticking their nose into Kanai Ward about the homunculus research was incredibly dangerous. Makoto simply gave Yakou the ultimatum and means to stop Yomi. The difference is that Makoto's goal was to get rid of Yomi and assume full control of the city in order to further suppress its secret, but Yakou's goal was the provide the truth to his detectives in order to fix things.

And I wrote all this BEFORE the Yakou DLC came out.

Where we find out that Yakou has had the prototype cure for homunculi the whole time. And depending on whether or not his wife here is a ghost or a hallucination, it seems like she had always known that there would be a need to regenerate the zombified brain cells of homunculi. Yakou might've been biding time not only to try and figure out how to reconcile the whole homunculus research issue without the UG destroying Kanai Ward, but maybe also for someone to finish research on this medicine.

TLDR; Yakou had always known about the homunculus research and was hiding it because he believed that the info getting leaked would cause the destruction of Kanai Ward by the hands of the UG. In the end, he figured out that the secret would not keep up for much longer, and his plot in chapter 4 wasn't for revenge, but to entrust that Yuma and the rest of his detectives would be able to uncover the truth and work out a way to save Kanai Ward.