#so i made an offhand comment asking my mother Why it was so wrong to use your left hand

[faerociousbeast]

losijg my mind

[headkiss]

Hello I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could maybe do an eddie x reader where reader doesn't want kids n thinks eddie does but eddie comforts and reassures her n stuff? Thank you so so much!! 🖤🖤🖤

hiii tysm for requesting! | 0.6k fluff and sort of hurt/comfort

You’re at the grocery store with Eddie. A mundane activity made ten times better because you get to be with your boyfriend. Something about grocery shopping with a partner is almost romantic. Personal.

Eddie’s debating between pasta shapes while you guard the cart, elbows bent and resting on the handle. His hair is frizzy from the wind, his shirt a bit wrinkly. He looks perfect.

You’re brought out of your boyfriend-admiring haze by a tug on your pant leg. A little girl stares up at you when you look down.

“Are you lost?”

She nods, her eyes watery. You loosely take her hand, reassuring her that you’ll find her family easily. It’s a small grocery store, so it’s hard to miss a nervous mother yelling for her child.

It’s a quick and easy reunion, a thank you from her mother and you’re turning away.

Eddie was at the end of the pasta aisle, not too far from your cart but positioned so he could see you. Your kindness is something he admires, and that’s no different here. He loves everything you do, but seeing you be such a good person never fails to make his heart squeeze.

When you return to him, he says, “you’re good with kids.”

“Really?” You don’t hide your surprise very well.

“Yeah, really. Got that parental instinct, maybe.”

Though he says it lightly, an offhand comment, it’s enough to get you thinking. You’ve talked about almost everything with Eddie. One thing you haven’t discussed is kids. You’re still young, you have time for that, but he’s your forever and you’re starting to worry you can’t give him the life he wants.

You don’t want kids, not now, and most likely not ever. What happens if he does?

You’re quiet for the rest of the shopping trip, short replies and a dimmed smile. Eddie notices and he wonders what could've brought you down so quickly. Usually, you love grocery shopping.

He doesn’t bring it up at first. No, he wants to give it time, to see if you might just have gotten tired or in a bad mood. Nothing’s wrong with that, so he pushes it off and hopes you’ll talk to him if you need to.

He doesn’t bring it up until that night, in his bed, backs against his headboard, your head on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“What? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been quiet since the grocery store. Just wanted to know if something happened.”

You know you need to talk about it sooner or later, and he’s giving you an opening, one you know is safe. You trust him, you’re just terrified you’ll lose him after this.

“Well, I guess there’s something I should tell you.”

“You can say anything to me,” he reaches for your hand, intertwines your fingers.

“I don’t want to have kids.”

You say it as quickly as possible. Ripping of the bandaid.

“What was that, honey?”

“I- uh. I don’t want to have kids.”

This time, he understands.

“That’s why you’ve been down?”

“I just don’t want you to be stuck with me if you want them.”

Eddie’s heart pinches. Stuck with you? If anything, you’re the one stuck with him. He hates that you’d ever think a life with you wouldn't be enough for him. It’s more than that, it’s everything.

“Honey. Any future with you is the one I want, okay?” He squeezes your hand, shifts so that you can see each other while he talks. “That’s your choice, and I’m the luckiest guy alive to have you in the first place.”

Eddie Munson. The perfect juxtaposition. All dark, ripped denim and chains on the outside, the brightest, sweetest boy on the inside.

You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close, blankets tangled between you. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am about you, got it?”

You squeeze him tighter, trying not to cry over how good he is.

[bookofmirth]

Hello! I was wondering if you could clarify something for me about acotar mating bonds. Azriel mentions in the bonus chapter that the cauldron could be wrong, and he could actually be Elain’s mate. I’m confused why he’s connecting mating bonds to the cauldron, when the cauldron has never been implied to have created mating bonds before? Rhys had dreams of Feyre when she was a human even if the mating bond only clicked into place for him after she became fae. I interpreted this is meaning that Feyre and Rhys were always mates, the bond just didn’t click into place until she was Made, but the bond itself has nothing to do with the actual cauldron. With Elain and Lucien, I also thought it was obvious that the bond clicks into place right after she is Made not because of the cauldron creating the bond, but because it’s the first time they’re meeting face to face or because she’s now fae. Is there something I’m missing about the link between the cauldron and mating bonds? It has been a few years since i last read the original trilogy

Hello friend! I was actually just writing something about this in the last ask I was answering and held off, but here goes!

Azriel saying "what if the Cauldron is wrong" is him speaking out of desperation. Whether you think he's desperate for Elain or for a mate in general is neither here not there - he's clearly emotional and lonely.

Here is what Rhys says in acowar, when he and Feyre are having a discussion about where bonds come from:

“What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history and often our source of knowledge about the world, doesn't know where mating bonds come from. And this was an actual conversation about where the mating bond comes from, not an offhand comment from someone who is sad and upset.

So why would we take Azriel's words, when in context they are not even having a discussion of how the world works, over the words of Rhys, when he is trying to discuss what he understands about his world and the mating bond with his mate, discussing Elain's mating bond?

Honestly, we've been having this argument for ages. You're right, mates are mates from birth, not after they are Made.

Rhys dreams about Feyre before she even crossed the wall.

Cassian was drawn to Nesta even when she was a human.

Lucien tried to help Elain before she was Made by the Cauldron. He literally broke a spell trying to go to her.

And one reason people think Ruhn and Lidia are mates is because they were able to find one another psychically before they even met in person.

There are probably other examples of this, that's just off the top of my head. Anyone can feel free to add on!

One more point that I mentioned in the last ask, and it wasn't mine but I can't remember who said this initially - the Cauldron made the acotar world, yeah? If the Cauldron makes mating bonds, then there likely wouldn't be mating bonds in Erilea or Midgard because the Cauldron is in the acotar world. It's something bigger, more far-reaching, that creates mating bonds.

But let's be real - sjm is what makes mating bonds. She decides "hey this couple is going to be endgame" and then it just works, magically, which is probably why Rhys didn't have a real reason to explain them. And we have to have the contrast of mating bonds that are incompatible to highlight the fact that, despite fate, people do have a choice in her stories.

The fact that people can say "no", is what makes the "yes" meaningful.

I don't expect this argument to go anywhere any time soon, unfortunately. But I can tell you that hofas only reinforces the fact that sjm loves mating bonds, that once she mates a couple they are endgame, and people are just going to be in denial for however long they feel like. I'm not going to tag that as a spoiler because hofas was basically just sjm doing the same things she's always done, no surprises in terms of the big things she likes to write in romantic relationships.

[mini-jiminie]

Can you please share some instances that you think indicate jikook as being platonic? I’m genuinely curious because I can’t think of anything obvious offhand.

Hey, of course.

Ok, so I’ll preface this by saying that interpretations of ‘romantic’ and ‘platonic’ are very subjective. For two people who haven’t explicitly confirmed a romantic relationship and probably never will, we can only view their bond through a subjective lens and speculate.

My viewpoint on jkk is that - at the least - they’re extremely close friends with oddly loose boundaries. Could they occasionally explore eachother’s bodies and make out? Sure! Honestly, with the way they move, I wouldn’t be surprised.

When we look at their relationship, we shouldn’t make judgements based on isolated instances or compilations of ‘romantic’ moments. That’s what the neighbours like to do (tkkrs). When I watch original and ot7 content, just based on observing them during the behind the scenes documentaries or during run episodes - outside the occasional shocking antics - they can come off as simply platonic friends. This is my personal observation from years of consuming content. There’s nothing wrong with seeing a moment as platonic because, everything they do doesn’t have to be viewed through a romantic lens.

Another thing is them taking some time away from eachother during late 2022-mid 2023. It’s something candidly discussed in ays; how jk felt as if they wouldn’t have met up hadn’t it been for the show. Leading up to that first filming, we’d see jm frequently in the comments of jk’s live. Jk would ask him to come and hang out on multiple occasions but seemingly, nothing came out of it. Jm was extremely busy with the release of FACE but, I was still pretty surprised that they couldn’t meet up the way jm was meeting up with hobi and yoongi.

^^This was at Hobi's enlistment. It looked like one of those dramatic reunion hugs when you see someone after a while. Leading up to the hug, it seemed as if jm was a little hesitant (?) to interact with jk. At the start, he beelines it for Hobi obviously and then stands off to the side before seeming to 'notice' jk. The hug is absolutely adorable and the way they hold onto each other is just 😭 but, yea it's one of those instances where they're touchy but, it doesn't read as romantic to me.

Now, I might be getting a bit controversial with my next point (jkkrs pls don’t crucify me plsss).

Hickeygate.

Look, I love hickeygate. I think it’s one of the most - if not the most - out-of-pocket thing they’ve done. From an outsider's point of view, it definitely doesn’t read as platonic. ‘Friends’ don’t do that with their ‘friends’

…….Not even South Korean men do that *gasp*

However, I don’t think jkk realised that :)

Those two were showing everyone and their mother’s that bite mark. Jm did a step-by-step retelling of the events while jk made helpful grunting noises to the side to express how much it stung. To them, it was a ‘keke, when ur drunk🤪’ moment because, again, they have insanely loose boundaries. To anyone else - namely Seokjin - it was a ‘this isn’t a normal bro thing’.

Jkk thought the whole situation was absolutely hilarious and clearly wanted to share their antics with everyone. Why else would jk just leave it out in the open? (if someone tells me it was all an elaborate scheme to hint at a secret girlfriend, gtfo—).

But yea, I don’t think those two saw any ‘weird’ or ‘romantic’ implications of hickeygate.

Anyways, I 🫶🏽 jkk. I love jkkrs. This is my just my silly goofy opinion heh..❤️❤️❤️.

But yea, where I get ‘potentially platonic’ is from looking at the in-between moments in their documentaries and variety content. These are the moments in between moments of high shock value. I’ve said this before but, what I find so fascinating about jkk is that ambiguity that surrounds them. Jkk’s dynamic is so distinct from their dynamics with the other boys. I’m happy to speculate whether they could be in a romantic relationship but, I’m also content with not knowing. Their bond is uniquely theirs and that’s what makes it so beautiful.

Thanks for the ask! <3

[ishiwritesstuff]

Memories Come in Waves (Tonight I'm Drowning)

A/n:- This was a very notes app type of story that i found while digging through my actual notes app. This story is partially based on things that happened to me when i was 16 so take it w a grain of salt pls :3

In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman And in every other *sighs* universe, it doesn't... end well.

16.

Isn't 16 the year where every netflix or disney main character goes to their beautiful coming of age journey, with a boyfriend, newfound academic and mental strength, along with a sense of belonging? Well I thought I was on that path too, moving to a new school always brings back that sense of hope and innocence.

But, all of that, derailed, because of that one person I thought would be mine, that one person, who, if he wasn't mine, I knew I'd stay friends with, with shared inside jokes and short looks that always showed comfort, and understanding.

Fuck Harlow Vincent.

The first time I met him, I forgot he existed. That's not even exaggeration, I truely forgot he was a person I talked to. Meeting him, with a short introduction from my best friend, in the badminton court, was nothing but a fleeting thought of meeting a new acquaintence.

I met him again, in school. Apparently we shared the same psychology class, which I failed to notice since the start of the new school. When a task of decorating a pinboard forced us in the same proximity, he came over and introduced himself again, where I remembered him again. Extending my hand for him to shake, and feeling his firm, confident, and warm hand on mine, is my most vivid memory of him. I remember just... talking to him, the ease of the conversation shocking me, as i've never been a very open person with people I just met, though i can hide it well. The time flew by, and the period finished, but I felt just a good platonic bond with him.

My next memory involved me, a few months after, just emotionally numb, sitting on the stairs where I first met him. I'd found that, my spiralling mental health might be due to the fact that, the subjects that I chose to study, I started dreading to pick up, having random breakdowns over them. My parents found out, and my father made the decision to switch them to the subjects I always liked studying. That... didn't sit well with my mother for a few days, which led to us not talking for those few days, just complete radio silence. Those feelings, I just told my best friend on those stairs, and from the badminton court, out came, who else but Harlow. He sat, and listened to me rant as well, patiently, and offered me advice, his mountain dew, and cracked a few jokes, which... helped me. I followed through on the advice, and, a few tears later, everything was fine back home. He also helped me switch comfortably, as i'd coincidently taken the same subjects as him. This led to us having more meaningful conversations, and him opening up about his problems as well, which I (hopefully) helped him in. That connect, made me fall for him, because, for his flaws, he truely tried to be a better person, tried to work on himself, and I liked that more than I thought I would.

Now comes the painful bit, the part where he found out. A walk, with my entire friends group at the time, and an offhand comment, with our names attached together, just froze him. Froze as in he very, truely stopped moving. Me, being painfully oblivious to it, asked if anything was wrong, He said no, and we moved on; but he made it a point to leave my side and stand somewhere, anywhere else, as long as it wasn't beside me, and talked to everyone else beside me. I only realised the reason later that night, in bed, hurt on why he'd do that.

Our talks became short, and dull, lacking all the emotion it had previously. He still hung out with me, but only if I was present, and didn't initiate anything. It hurt still, and it was delusional on my part to even THINK he liked me, but it was a rub of a wound in salt nonetheless.

In one of those hangouts, I got my little brother, 6 at the time, excitedly talking about marvel, pokemon and roblox (that is a things kids do now, dont judge), and him, fucking Harlow Vincent, just standing here, hearing my brother go on, and talking to him in such a respectful and nice tone, that I have not heard people use with my brother, and that... that tipping point, made me fall head over heels for him, for 10 solid months. His heart, his understanding nature, his 'not afraid to tell you where you went wrong' characteristic, and his absolute resolve in healing himself didn't help my situation.

Lord knows that fall would lead to an injured heart, and an unexplainable void in my feelings.

I dont know what happened, but in the span of those months, I just had enough. I was over him, and, with some introspection, thought that the only reason I fell for him was because I attached my emotion well being to him, which wasn't healthy at all. My friends pointed out every last thing I dismissed and glossed over about him, while wearing rose tinted glasses, and I was... appalled at how i'd missed them. I realised that while he did have his good parts, other people who was better suited for me did have those characteristics too, and that he had done things that I couldn't just let go.

That was the point I decided not to text him again, because thats the only time we even used to talk. Even birthday texts were devoid of any emotion. I was the one who wished him, he never wished me, knowing full well when my birthday was, and that 17 was a big year for me.

All we are now, are strangers with memories. Memories that physically pain to revisit. But occasionally, I do fall in the rabbithole of those memories. I sometimes, joking call him my period crush, becauee I only think of these things on my period. But it does pain.

Its been a year, this month was the month I refused to talk him. The only contact we have now is through forced interactions, or second hand interactions, with a person usually being in the middle, while we pretend not to listen to what the other is saying. Its... not ideal I know. We sometimes accidently lock eyes for longer than a second, and those waves of memories take me under, leaving a lump in my throat, and I look away. In an MUN, he held a position higher than me in the organising committee, and while he gave me instructions, he sometimes stepped closer for comfort, which led me to always stay two steps away from him, and his slightly disappointed look never failed to make me feel guilty and so fucking confused.

Those memories are like riptide waves, which will, without fail, take me away from the things that ground me, to the dark side, which i refuse to let happen. Except for tonight. Memories like these come in waves, and tonight darling, i'm drowning.

[scp372]

vent tw

[fruitdragon]

Scrolling through my fanfiction and I came across this gem I wrote like 3 years ago, when I was convinced that the movies weren't doing Bat-dad justice.

A button on Batman’s belt started flashing and beeping during the middle of a Justice League meeting. Superman stopped mid-sentence to look at him as the Dark Knight stood and pressed the button. The screen that they kept in the front of the room for communication purposes switched on. On the screen was a man with a domino mask and a blue and black suit with a bird on it. He seemed stressed, but excited, and lit up when he saw Batman.

“B!” he called, “I’m so glad I could reach you.”

“B?” Flash murmured to Green Lantern, they were all confused, they hadn’t known that Batman was somewhat close to anyone but them, but he obviously was.

“What is it Nightwing? You know this is the emergency line, is everyone alright?” He sounded concerned which made both Wonderwoman and Superman nervous, if Batman was concerned something was wrong. The man on the screen, Nightwing, broke into a giant, beaming smile.

“Oracle went into labour!” The justice league exchanged glances, someone that Batman was close to based on names was pregnant, was that why he had been late to a handful of meetings. Batman straightened even more, on alert.

“What are the others doing?” Others? The League was starting to murmure confused to themselves.

“Agent A and Doctor L are with Oracle in the medical section of the Cave,because there's no way we’re taking her to a hospital in this town.” Batman nodded. “Red Hood’s panicking about being an Uncle with his issues so he went to talk to Aunt Harley and Aunt Ivy how they manage to be Aunts to us even though they're technically villians.” Some of Batman’s Rogues were this guys Aunt, how does he have such a close relationship with Batman then? “Robin’s making the baby a small sword so I left him with Black Bat and Spoilers freaking the fuck out with Red Robin, who’s on his 7th cup of coffee for the day F.Y.I.”

Who were all these people? Nightwing, Agent A, Doctor L, Red Hood, Robin, Black Bat, Spoiler, Red Robin? How many people did Batman know?

“What about Bluebird and Signal?” The man on the screen seemed to be getting tired of Batman’s interrogation.

“I don’t know! Dad get yourself back to the cave for the birth of your first grandchild!” The league was stunned, this was Batman’s son? Batman has a family? Who were viligates based on the names that some of them had heard before, and their Aunts Were villains, Batman was related to his Rogues?!?

“Batman?” Wonderwoman asked and he finally seemed to realize that he had revealed more than he ever had about his life outside of the Justice League. He grunted. And glared at each of them.

“This doesn’t leave the room.” he demanded before turning back to his son.

“Is Catwoman there?” he was related to even more of his Rogues based on the way he was talking.

“Yes Mom’s here, but Oracle has threatened to let Robin name the baby if you’re not here too.” His son’s Mother was Catwoman, he was in a relationship or had been with one of his villains? Is that why she’s almost never caught and hasn’t seemed to get out as much more recently? Is that why his son calls other Villains Aunt? The League looked at Diana who had a hurt look in her eyes before masking it, her feelings for Batman were well known to everyone but him.

“You know I never expected grandchildren.” the comment seemed offhanded but Nightwing seemed to realize he was teasing him.

“Should have thought about that before having 11 kids, B.” The man teased back. Eleven kids?! What kind of family did ‘I work alone’ Batman have?

“I would like to point out that almost none of you were planned. I just couldn’t help myself.” Nightwing snorted and shook his head.

“I would like to say that with the eight of us you adopted, you might have a problem. Now get down here.” Some of his kids were adopted? How did he end up taking them in?

“I’m on my way.” Batman swept out of the room leaving the League and the still on screen behind him. Nightwing looked them over and grinned.

“Next time there’s a meeting ask him how he took in Red Hood.” he suggests “If you’re curious about us.” he nods “Well I would stay and chat about your shocking revelations, but i’m about to become a Dad!” he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Nightwing out.” The screen went dark.

“Well,” Superman said slowly, “That was something.”

The room erupted into confusion and conversation.

[rocorambles]

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored. 

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him. 

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him? 

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming. 

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed. 

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps. 

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you. 

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.” 

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him. 

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.    

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind. 

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions. 

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?” 

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing. 

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work. 

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom. 

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end. 

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away. 

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.” 

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again. 

“Stay still.” 

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through. 

“I told you to stay still.” 

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him. 

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-” 

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast. 

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready. 

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you. 

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.” 

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.” 

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker. 

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Literally any Katara fluff pls

Katara Having A Crush On You Would Include

You were a water bender in the Northern Water Tribe

You met Katara when she joined one of the healing classes

She looked like she'd rather be anywhere else but there

When you asked her about it, she said she'd rather be learning combat

"I understand. To be honest, I've always wanted to learn how to use my bending to defend myself, but it's not the way of our culture."

"But why not?! Why discriminate based on gender! Why is there so much opposition?!"

You shrugged and listened to her rant until she calmed down

"How come you never said anything?"

"Because I was scared. Everything has a way here, thinking outside the igloo isn't rewarded here. But one day I'll get the courage to leave and find my own path. I just want to see a world more than ice and water. Experience different energies, you know?"

She was contemplative

She felt happy honestly

There was finally someone she could relate to

Someone she could understand

And who would understand her

"Maybe you could come with us."

You laughed, "You're mad."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Cheering for her when she battled against Master Paku

Feeling eternally grateful to her

Because of her, you were now able to learn bending alongside her

Protecting each other during The Siege

And when the Gaang leave the North Pole, she convinces you to join them

It being the best decision you have ever made

You were slowly falling for her

But you never really said anything

You always assumed that when her time at the North Pole was up you wouldn't see each other again

But now that you were an official member of the Gaang

You were falling fast and deep

Little did you know she felt the same way

It's really difficult to tell when Katara likes somebody

Because she's a naturally caring and loving person

So, it's hard to tell if she's giving you special treatment

You both hid your feelings very well

Even the boys just assumed you were good friends

And then Toph joined the group

She immediately could tell you both had a thing for each other

Judging by the way your heartrates would pick up whenever you were together

And your relationship continues that way

Doing small things for each other

Katara gives you her share of something she knows you enjoy

You give her your blanket when she's asleep to make sure she isn't cold

Always together no matter what

You braid each other’s hair and do chores together

Go on "dates" to the marketplace all the time

Literally the longest you're apart is an hour

The guys don't get close female friendships

But they don't have to

She's your best friend

And that's more important to you

Cuz she gives you support and stability and safety

But you also want to kiss her and be indulged romantically

Even then you were so close that you didn't feel the distance or anything

Toph was always making offhanded comments

But you both brush it off really easy

Because with best friends, it was really difficult to tell if you were dating or just friends

Personal boundaries were always pushed to the limits when it came to the two of you

Until one day the two of you were just randomly talking

About the war and everything

It was one of those deep talks where you realized your place in the world

And all that you were willing to give up for the war

"(Y/N) listen, if during the war, if something happens and I don't make it—"

"Don't even say that."

"No, no I have to. If I die, then I want you to have my necklace."

"I thought that was your mothers? I thought you treasured it?"

"I do. It's my most treasured possession. And if I'm not here then I want it to be with you. It'll be like a little piece of my soul is always with you."

You were so touched

"Katara. I love you."

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

"No, you're not getting it. I love you."

Her eyes widened when she realized what you were implying

She didn't say anything and you panicked for a second

"Listen if you don't feel the same way then it's okay, I don't m—"

And suddenly she was kissing you

You melted into it, holding her waist and kissing her hard

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

And you couldn't help it

You couldn't control your mouth

You were just so happy

"Yay!"

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

ATLA Taglist:

@emmacata

[sunatooru]

Uhm, sorry to disturb you again.. i was thinking if I could ask for another emergency request (although I'm not sure that first one counts-)

Some weeks ago I was talking to my mom and she asks me why I don't wear shorts, and I just said I hated them, then somehow with got into an argument that I should wear more shorts to look more "feminine" and shit, and at the end of it she just says "Where did I go wrong?" While looking at me with anger, I was in pure shock and I just started crying and somehow she got more annoyed at it and walked away mumbling some kind of apology... its been a month and this still disturbs me so much that I'm just getting more and more tired and giving up going to places 'cause I have no more strength to wear clothes I like. It was such a trivial fight and she managed to say that and never properly apologize.

I would like to know if you could do a comfort (more like platonic) headcanon about this situation with the nekoma team... Of course you can ignore this and its completely fine, if you don't want to, Hope I'm not bothering you or anything...

Have a great night! :]

I hope this helps xx

~

Warnings: mention appearance in terms of clothing, mentions offhanded comments made from readers mother

~

Nekoma team

* they’ve noticed you being off

* You’re less happy, always dazing off into your thoughts

* Kai is first to approach you

* “Hey? You don’t seem ok. Want to talk about it?” He asks with a warm smile, sitting next to you as you sigh

* Kuroo catches you frowning and makes his way

* “What’s wrong? You know you can tell us anything?” And you do

* They soften their eyes when your voice gets caught in your throat and rub your back

* At some point the other members have come to hug you

* “You’re amazing the way you are” Lev praises

* “Whatever makes you comfortable is important. We think you look great and love that you’re our friend.” Kenma gives you a gently smile

* “What you wear is your choice. It’s for how you feel. You mum was rude for making you feel like this. It’s okay to be upset about it. But please know, we think you’re beautiful, inside and out. And we don’t care how you wanna dress. We just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable.” Yaku rubs your shoulders

* They nod simultaneously, smiling at you

* “You don’t need to please anyone but yourself.”

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter IV

Previous|Current|Next

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Subtle Mentions of Torture and Abuse.

Word Count: 3.1K (She a lil short) 

As the name rattles off of Hisoka’s lips, you furrow your eyebrows. Is he someone you know? Is he someone you should know? A thousand thoughts run through you head in the span of a second and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is a reason behind why Hisoka would ask you whether or not you knew someone. 

You also weren’t completely insufferable in your lack of underworld knowledge. You knew who the Zoldycks were. Had heard many of the wealthy families mention the name before. Wealthy families got to where they were not because they didn’t deal in shady things…they just happened to have enough money to pay someone else to do it for them…and keep it from ever tracing back to them. 

You remember being at a gala not to terribly long ago. The patriarch on the family hosting the event had left midway through to speak to an older man with grey/white hair. You’d gone to the bathroom when he’d walked out of the office with the other man—who’d looked extremely pale and weathered as compared to when they’d left. You’d smiled and apologized, telling them you’d gotten turned around on your way back to the party, and the man with the grey/white hair, Zeno Zoldyck you’d come to learn, had simply smiled at you before nodding to the host. The other man had disappeared out of view and the two of you were left alone.  

“My, my you have grown into a beautiful young woman since the last time I saw you y/n.” He’d said and you could only blink, registering quickly the sheer power rolling off this man. There was no malice behind it, nor intimidation effect, it was simply him. 

“I’m sorry sir, and forgive me for being rude, but do we know each other? I don’t recall ever having met you before.” You said, smiling softly but anxiously, wracking your brain for anything to give you a clue as to not incur your mother’s wrath for forgetting a powerful man’s name and presence. 

He chuckled, walking closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “No need to worry dear, we’ve never met before per se, but I do know who you are. I’m well aware of your parents’…pursuits. Your name has come up in conversation before and the last time I saw you or a photo of you, you were quite small. Maybe no older than 10 or 11. I was merely making an observation.” 

You smiled again and nodded you head, understanding and yet feeling embarrassed and ashamed that you probably looked no better than a filly up for auction, because truthfully…you weren’t. 

“Oh! Well it’s nice to meet you—” 

“Zeno, Zeno Zoldyck. And it’s nice to finally meet you as well y/n y/l/n. And I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see each other.” 

Thinking back on that situation now, back on the first time you ever met Zeno, you wondered how exactly it was your name had ever befallen the ears of the Zoldyck patriarch. Regardless, to be asked about a Zoldyck was odd, even coming from Hisoka. 

“I know of the Zoldycks, I’ve met Zeno a couple of times. But I’m not well versed in the members of the family. Is there any particular reason why you ask Hisoka?” You ask, thinking it over more as you answered, wondering where the missing link was in your knowledge. But when you looked up, in that moment, when the words had only just left you mouth, the look in Hisoka’s eyes made you think that not knowing may have been a small grace than a hinderance. And in that moment, you were somewhat grateful the water was already growing cold, because the shock of chill that ran through the air wasn’t nearly as potent. 

The small seep of bloodlust in the air made you take in a breath and try to sink into the furthest side of the tub away from him. The hairs on your body stood up and gooseflesh peppered across your skin. You bit back the whimper that wanted to escape and instead looked at the imposing man before you with wide eyes. The shift in demeanor, you realized, was not direct at you but something else entirely. 

“Did you ever see the man you were initially going to be engaged to?” Hisoka asked and this made you pause because you had told Chrollo of your past but not the rest of the Troupe and you were certain that it was not information passed along to them as they’d been dismissed when the discussion had happened. 

Was this slip up intentional, to make you put the pieces together or had Hisoka’s apparently bloodlust caused his tongue to run away from him? If you were a wagering girl, and you really weren’t, you would’ve bet on the former instead of the latter. Hisoka was calculating and manipulative. You knew his interest in you had made you into a new toy to play with and this seemed like a twist in his play with you. Keeping this in mind, you responded accordingly. 

“Yes, once, late one night when I snuck into my father’s office. I wanted to see what he looked like. This elusive person who was supposedly going to be my husband. He was attractive, but I never was told his name because, for whatever reason, my parents ended up forgoing the engagement. I was never told why exactly, and it never dawned on me to ask honestly.” You chose your words carefully, watching him the entire time to gage the way he reacted. 

That wasn’t entirely a lie, it wasn’t also entirely the truth. You knew why you parents had never gone through with the engagement; the family, while incredibly powerful and wealthy, was part of the seedy underground and that didn’t bode well with their agenda. A family like the Zoldycks fit perfectly within that description you realized. Although, it was an inclining you’d had after the second time you’d met the Zoldyck patriarch and his son, Silva, the current head of the family and business. They’d been nice, familiar even, and they’d been assessing you. At the time, you hadn’t exactly been sure as to why, but you’d wondered if they’d been the family who’d been very adamant about marrying you to their eldest son. 

However, they thought had derailed when Zeno had made an offhanded comment about wondering if you’d be into younger men and you’d been utterly confused. Were they not them? Were you mistaken and they too were now interested after meeting you? You’d never truly gotten your answer though because the next time you saw them, it had been a strained meeting as you’d been their target. Why Zeno had come and told your parents that information instead of just doing his job, and risking his reputation in the process, had puzzled you even more. 

“HISOKA! Enough!” The roar from Phinks had startled you as had the slamming of your bedroom door. Curling in on yourself, you’d just managed to cover yourself before Phinks and Shalnark had busted through.  “Keep your bloodlust in check, it’s giving me a headache. And what are you even doing in here you pervy bastard? Leave the poor girl alone. You’re needed downstairs anyway, something’s come up.” 

Both blonde men gave you a quick once over, probably making sure that you weren’t harmed by the magician but nodding their heads towards the door. Shalnark gave you a smile and a wave before trailing behind Phinks. “Come on Hisoka, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.” 

Hisoka turned, beginning to move towards the door again before stopping. “Don’t think too hard on it little dove. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

And with that he’d walked out, slamming the bedroom door behind him, leaving you utterly confused and feeling chilled to the bone. 

Was this Illumi Zoldyck guy your previous potential fiancé? 

Was there another member of the Zoldyck’s who had almost taken that roll instead? 

Or was Hisoka just trying to find out some sort of other information that you just weren’t able to see yet? 

You didn’t know the answer to those questions right now…but you were certain you were going to get them, whether you wanted to know or not. 

That night, you’d gone to bed shortly after you’d forced yourself to climb out of the bathtub. The water had grown cold, and your skin was pruning uncomfortably. The peace in which you had hope to find, even a sliver of, had never come to you, so you hoped maybe sleep would just be a void. 

And while you hadn’t been completely wrong, you also hadn’t been completely right. 

At first, you’d fallen asleep easily, not even the noises of what was taking place downstairs had deterred you from finding solace in the black abyss. However, that had apparently been short lived as a few hours later, you’d slipped into a nightmare.  

You were surrounded by people you didn’t know, and they were talking about you, looking down on you. It was then you realized that you were strapped to a table and that you had wires running from your body to machines. They didn’t appear to be normal medical equipment though, but you couldn’t say for certain that they were made out of nen either. Regardless, seeing the wiring connecting to your body and then to unknown machines left your blood running cold and your mind running a mile a minute as to how to get yourself out of this situation. 

“She’s extraordinary. Just extraordinary! With powers like hers…you could rule the world…could rule worlds. There is an unlimited number of things you could do and accomplish with this kind of power. Who knows where it stops!” The excited voice from beside you startled you. 

The small man in a lab coat and mask was standing closest too you, scribbling things on a clipboard as he looked at you in awe. You tried to ask what was going on, how you had gotten here, what he was talking about, but nothing came out. Not even a whimper and whisper of breath. You frantically looked around, trying to find a face, a friend, anyone you recognized and kept coming up empty. The faces were blurred, and your eyes began to strain. The sound of voices chattering and a machine clicking barely registered to you…

…but the pain certainly did.

Excruciating was putting it mildly and you quickly understood why you were bound, outside of not allowing you to flee your captors. The pain seared through even molecule in your body and those that it hadn’t even created yet. Your back arched off the table and your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Your throat felt raw, like you’d done it before…possibly even several times before. The only thing that actually seemed to escape you were the tears from the corner of your eyes as the pain stopped and deftly you registered that the machines had stopped but the voices had picked up. 

What they were saying, you couldn’t tell. But as the noise kicked up tenfold, the pain did as well, and this time when you screamed…a noise came with it. 

“Y/n wake up! It’s just a dream! You’re fine. Wake up!” You bolted up right, screaming yourself hoarse as the pain creeped its way from fantasy into reality. It jarred you to the bone and without thinking you struck out at the closest thing, sending it hurling away from you in an effort to end whatever was causing you pain. 

What you hadn’t realized was that that “thing” in which you had sent flying had been Chrollo. Didn’t realize it was him till he was nearly striking the wall on the other side of the room, caught off guard by your sudden attack and the power behind it. It was also then that you realized there was an aura radiating around you and there was immense power coming from it. 

You looked to Chrollo wondering if he had always been this strong and had somehow been masking it. But looking at him, seeing the wild, almost gleeful look in his eyes, made you realize that the power was not coming from him…but yourself. 

“I need you to breathe for me y/n and focus on controlling the aura that’s around you. If you don’t get a control over it, it’ll continue to seep out of you, and you’ll pass out from the loss.” He spoke softly, walking up to you slowly like you would a terrified animal, afraid that in its fear, will lash out at you and go for your jugular. 

However, his tactics were a bit sabotaged when Franklin and Feitan came flying into the room, nen activated and ready to take on anyone who posed a threat. The hostile energy pouring out of them had your fear peaking again, the faces from your dream flashing before your eyes and the power in which you’d thrown at Chrollo was surging again, zeroing in on the new threats and detonating without so much as a blink from you. 

Both of their boys went flying as well, Chrollo, seemingly reading your nanosecond of a shift in body language, braced in anticipation, activating his own aura, and deflecting easily. As he seemed to watch two of his strongest members go soaring across the room as if it was no big deal, the look in his eyes seemed to increase tenfold and suddenly he was behind you, wrapping himself around you and smothering you face into his chest. 

“Shhh, you’re okay. They aren’t going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you little one. I promise.” He stroked your hair and while you realize the sentiment that he was going for, the affection left you feeling even more displaced. 

You could feel your body seemingly gearing up for another act and, despite still being unsure as to where these people lie on the spectrum between friend and foe, you did not want to hurt them anymore than you already had. With that in mind, you tried to even your breathing out; tried to think of a dam stopping the free flow of water, and all thing similar to keep yourself from exploding with aura again. And that, coupled with Chrollo’s continued words of assurance, seemed to do the trick, and stop up the free flow of energy. 

As the bubble around you seemed to smooth and flow but not run, you realized you’d started to sob at some point, the tears streaming down your face and a near continual stream of whimpers and apologies pouring from your mouth. Apologies to Chrollo for the initial attack, apologies to Franklin and Feitan who’d only come to make sure everything was okay. You didn’t know what was going on or how things had escalated so quickly but you were sorry and you hadn’t meant to hurt them. 

You weren’t entirely certain the message hadn’t gotten out clearly, if the pissed off look on Feitan’s face was anything to go by, but you weren’t entirely certain that hadn’t been there prior as the man seemed to wear a scowl frequently. 

“What…happened…?” Feitain asked and you could feel Chrollo shift, looking at them while maintaining the comforting stroking on your hair. 

“I’m not sure. I came up here to check on her when I felt a spike in aura and heard her crying out. I couldn’t sense another presence outside of her own, but we’ve met nen users capable of cloaking themselves before. However, when I came in, she was thrashing about, when I woke up her…the same thing that happened to you happened to me.” 

“Clearly not as hard though. You seem fine. I feel like I’m going to be sore for days after that power she just threw at us.” Franklin muttered rubbing at his arm and stomach. 

“Such…a…. baby…” Feitan muttered, earning a side-eyed glare from Franklin. 

“I wouldn’t say it was any less powerful, it was more like she registered who was in the room with her right as she threw the power out. I’m almost certain she did the same with you, and my presence so close by also muted her attack, afraid she’d hurt me in an effort to harm you two.” 

Franklin and Feitan looked from Chrollo to you and then back to Chrollo before looking at each other in disbelief. “You’re saying that wasn’t her full power?” Franklin asked, the shock and awe clearly evident in his voice. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I can’t even begin to feel the depths of her power, let alone where it ends.” 

The words seemed to hang in the air, all three men seemingly having a silent conversation that you were not perve to, nor did you think you ever would be. You had known from the start, regardless of what degree of comradery you obtained with these people you would always be an outsider, never allowed to fully know the scope of everything. You’d never be told all of the details, never know the full extent of all of their abilities, never know the ins and outs of it all. And you did not mind that, not at the moment at least, because for what you did not know, you had come to understand that these were dangerous people, people that were probably on several hit lists and wanted by many…and you did not know if you ever wanted to truly be associated with them. 

While sitting in the tub, you’d come to the conclusion that you would use them to obtain the skills necessary to save your younger siblings…and that would be the extent of it. You were not a killer, did not fancy yourself someone who killed for sport or out of the desire to prove you were stronger or better than others. No, you did not believe your wants in life to align at all with those of the people in this group nor did you think they ever would. So you’d do what was necessary to be able to get your siblings back, to be able to protect them and keep them safe till they were capable of doing as such on their own. But once you’d achieved that goal…you were as good as gone. 

[soulwillower]

crush culture • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: fic where Richie and reader have been best friends since kindergarten, and have always had feelings for eachother secretly, until one day richie gets a girlfriend (just to take his mind off her), and the reader gets jealous and distances herself from him? he obviously gets upset by this- and things go on from there? sorry if it’s too specific! love u!

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of death, fighting, mentions of an abusive relationship, intentionally pissing off richie, a bit of angst, richie is an oblivious idiot, but reader is MUCH more of an idiot, like dude lmao, but i think that’s it, unedited tho

this isn’t rly based off crush culture, but i took the title from conan gray’s song :)  

[losers + reader are 18+ in this!!!]

3.8k words L O L :))

♡

you swear to god, you’re getting sick. that’s what this was, for sure.

it started about a month ago, when you started to get headaches and terrible hollow feelings in your stomach. it happened everywhere - in the line for coffee, in class, driving home from school, at the dinner table. but it got a hundred times worse at night and then seemed to triple in force every morning when you woke.

and it all came at you some time after richie announced he had a new girlfriend.

you were really sick the few days after that, enough that you stayed home from school and laid in bed, the pit in your stomach sinking. it didnt take long for you to realize how bad richie’s girlfriend was - she treated him like a dog, like he embarrassed her - and he didn’t even seem to mind. he just brushed off every offhand comment, rolled his eyes with a grin when she told him she didn’t want to see his friends or when she told him to stop talking. 

he still seemed to like her, anyways. and that thought made your stomach convulse.

so then you had to distance yourself from richie because it hurt you to see him with her. it hurt you to see him with someone who didn’t treat him like the incredible person he was. 

so yeah.

you say you’re sick, but you know that’s not really true. it’s easier than accepting reality at this point, though, so you spew this nonsense (to yourself, mostly) in order to justify ignoring your best friend of nearly a decade because christ, he is becoming unbearable.

like the other day, at lunch while you were all sitting in the courtyard. it was your first time eating with them again after almost a week and a half, as you’d been eating alone in your car recently to avoid richie. “rich, why’d you take off the nail polish?” bev asked, out of the blue, sounding disappointed as she grabbed his free hand and examined it.

he blew smoke out of his mouth slowly and you had forced yourself to look away, the sight of richie doing nearly anything these days being pretty dangerous for you. it also made you sigh a bit - you knew he only smoked at lunch now, since his girlfriend hated it.

“don’t want my paws to be prettier than y/n’s when we hold hands.” he had joked, wagging an eyebrow at you. you’d shook your head and looked to the ground in lew of a real response, just as you had been doing a lot recently.

you'd missed richie’s frown at your reaction, but you did catch his next statement as it was added on, “nah, actually it’s because the ol’ G-F didn’t like it. thought it looked too girly.”

you, stan, bev, and mike all stopped chewing to look at richie, in varying stages of bewilderment. you'd cleared your throat quickly but decided against speaking up just as richie’s phone started to ring. he’d answered it nearly immediately, the enthusiasm of which made you feel like you’re going to be sick again - because richie never answers your calls until the last possible minute.

god, jealousy is a fucking disease.

“hey, sugar.” he had purred suavely into the phone and for some reason, hearing him call someone else sugar had you abruptly rising, gathering your things and nearly running off to put as much distance between you and four-eyes as you possibly could, because you’re not sure how much more you could take.

after that, you were absolutely sure it was just pure denial on your part.

as far as you could tell, richie wasn't noticing too much. he still phoned your house every day, just to be met with your mother telling him you 'weren't available,' and then he'd call your own phone, which you'd let buzz itself into a dark hole on your bedside table while you stared at it solemnly, guilt heavy on your mind as he left voicemail after voicemail. 

he doesn't deserve it, you think as you open the doors to the school library, backpack on your shoulders. but you can't help it. you're not his girlfriend, and you're not mature enough to accept that with any ounce of elegance so instead you just ignore him all together. at least you're self-aware, right? that ought to count for something.

you shake your head just as a voice catches your attention, “well look who decided to show up!”

richie's sitting at the usual study table in the very back corner of the library, a spot tucked away by rows upon rows of dusty books and an alcove of couches. bill sits at the head of the table, scribbling his chicken scratch handwriting onto graph paper, mike next to richie with a textbook spread out flat. across from mike is stan, writing out his statistics work. 

all three of them wave at you before going back to their work, whereas richie just watches you expectantly. his feet are kicked up on the table, textbook balanced on his lap as he hovers on two leg chairs. his smile is as blinding as always, a dimple faint on his left cheek and full eyebrows raised in jest. his curls frame his face perfectly and you want to scream.

but you take your seat next to stan with a tight lipped smile, not really sure how to respond to richie. are you even allowed to be flirty with him like you used to? he still does it on the rare occasions when you do see each other - but that itself is the issue, you figure. his flirting is just a joke, a tiff from one friend to another. but you can't see him as just a friend, and that’s unfair to him.

so you stay quiet, which makes it infinitely more awkward.

richie clears his throat and you pull out your work with an awkward expression, the minutes slowly churning by in what has to be the quietest hangout with the Losers yet.

you feel the tension building in your body and in the air, and you're not sure what's wrong with you or why you have so much resentment towards richie in this moment, because he's not done one single thing to offend anyone in the last ten minutes.

then richie's phone rings suddenly and mike jumps a bit as he's startled out of the passage he's reading. you all look down to richie's screen, where his girlfriend's name blares up at you and all you can feel is white hot jealousy coursing through your body.

richie looks half way exhausted and annoyed at the call, which you find extremely odd and out of character, not to mention persistently frustrating.

as you all stare at the phone, the tension in the room stretches tighter and tighter, like a rubber band and you can't breathe -

"uh, why is she calling you?" mike asks, as if this was something that was forbidden or shocking in any way, and for some reason, that is finally it.

the rubber band snaps.

"how could you forget, mike? they're in love!" you say with mock enthusiasm. 

bill shoots you an alarmed look that you probably should read into or at least consider for a moment, but instead you're looking directly at richie, as if challenging him.

he blinks at you and clenches his jaw, "she and i haven't really been... talking recently." richie says lightly, shooting a glance to mike.

“well then maybe you’re just not right for each other.” you quip, the blood boiling in your veins. richie's eyes snap to you and you see the fire behind them as he suddenly breaks.

“sorry, did i miss the divine intervention when god floated down on a cloud of marshmallows and deemed you expert in relationships?” he says abruptly, making your eyes widen at his outburst. he continues, “because last time i checked, you’re a bit of a failure in that department. so i don't need some jealous, disappearing-act wannabe criticizing my life when she's barely even in it.” he seethes. it’s near quiet in the library anyways, but his words seem to silence the entire town.

with a quick glance to your right, stan and bill sharing an uncomfortable look, and mike is staring down intently at his work with wide eyes.

you want to die.

does richie know? has he known this whole time that you're just deeply, painfully head over heels for him? 

"i'm so sick of your bullshit. maybe you're jealous because you want what i had, but you’re being really fucking rude."

you nearly cry. or scream.

“criticism doesnt equal jealousy, okay?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting even opening your mouth. you're so intent on covering for yourself, you don't even take into account the phrasing he'd used when referring to his girlfriend, instead fighting with richie in order to keep your secret from him.  

this is not how you’d intended today to go. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed in a way that almost makes you keel over in sadness, the guilt of the situation falling too heavily on your shoulders and crushing you.

it’s tranquilizing to see him like this -  he's fuming, but he's also got bright, glistening eyes which you think may be filling up with tears.

“i didn’t really ask for your input, though.” he mutters, cheeks reddening as tears definitely well in his eyes behind his lenses. “you can’t just ignore me at your every whim just to come right back and tell me what's good for me.”

you blink, shaking your head quickly, deciding to back off. now is not the time to fight, especially when you know he’s right. you had no idea it was hurting him like this. "richie, i... i just wanted-" you gape at him, extremely embarrassed.

“-i don’t fucking care what you wanted, y/n.” richie says sharply, causing you to shut your mouth so quick your jaw clicks in the silence. clearly, even the other boys are perturbed by richie’s actions and everyone’s staring down in silence at their homework.

it’s quiet like that for a few minutes, the tension so thick that you’d need a jackhammer just to chip away at it. but stan rummages through his bag suddenly, pulling out two painkillers and dry swallowing them. you don't look at anyone else, your stomach hollow and your heart thumping so hard in your chest you think you may explode.

"d-do you have a headache?" bill asks, looking at stan with concern. the sudden voice causes you to perk up, head flowing with humiliation at the fight you and richie had just had in front of your friends.

“yeah, but it’s not that bad. i guess i’m used to it.” stan says, pen between his teeth.

“just because you’re used to something doesn’t make it any less unhealthy for you.” you say louder than necessary, your mouth suddenly deciding to speak without consulting your brain. 

the glare of pure frustration that richie throws you pierces your lungs and suddenly makes you feel lightheaded. 

your pettiness doesn’t go unresponsive, of course, and mike sighs into his hands, standing up to gather his things. "alright. i can't study when you two are like this. i'll see you guys later."

richie sighs quietly and bill and stan mumble good-bye's. the library goes back to quiet for maybe three more minutes, until you see stanley start to fidget like he usually does when he's anxious. and then you notice it after a few seconds, too.

richie won't stop tapping his foot on the desk.

for everyone's sake, you try to ignore it, because you know richie can't help his compulsions - especially when he's upset (which, your mind painfully reminds you, is all your fault).

but it's driving you crazy.

“-if you keep doing that i’ll throw you out that fucking window rich, i swear.” stan mutters not unkindly, his eyes rolling to meet richie with a concerned gaze as richie stares out the window.

you raise your eyebrows, “what’re you even looking at?” you ask, trying to mend a bit of the open, festering wound you’d created in you and richie’s friendship.

without looking at you, richie shrugs. “checking to see how high the drop is. may be worth it to have schnoz just toss me down. it would certainly do you a favor right? gettin ol’ trashmouth gone for good.”

what was he saying? you look at him, scandalized. stan and bill don’t even say anything about the offensive nickname as you gape at richie. "what the fuck?" is all your brilliant mind can think.

"what, you can dish it but you can't take it?" richie says sharply. he shakes his head, looking upset. "i'm tired of trying to be friends with a fucking brick wall."

then he's gathering his one notebook and swiftly exiting your alcove in the library in a wind of cigarettes and cologne. 

you blink, his words sinking in and making you sigh shakily. your stomach feels hollow as you remember the expression of glee on his face when you'd walked into the library, and how completely different and broken he'd looked as he'd left. you think you're going to cry.

“every minute that you don't follow him digs yourself deeper into this grave, you know.” stan says, giving you a stern but encouraging look.

you let out a shaky sigh and scramble to grab your bag, tripping over your feet as you run out of the library, flying down the staircase faster than you've ever gone and making it to your lifelong best friend just as he reaches his car in the parking lot.

"-a brick wall?" you ask, out of breath. you see richie hold back an eye roll, his arms crossing over each other as he serves you a look of discomposure.

he shrugs helplessly, looking as if he's at his wit's end.

"what do you want me to say, y/n? you've been avoiding me for weeks. i know i'm annoying and obnoxious and whatever, but i'm not blind." he says, making you swallow as guilt pangs through your chest. you have been so fucking selfish, haven't you?

it hurts to hear him say that about himself. 

he sniffles a bit, sounding choked up as he goes on, "i've had a rough couple of days - weeks, even. but every time i'm near, it's like you've had more than enough, and you just leave. am i that repulsive? why do you suddenly hate me?" he asks, looking desperate as his eyes rim red, filling with tears again.

“what did i do?” his voice cracks as he whispers the sentence and your heart breaks in two.

your own vision goes glassy as he continues, "-i've needed you, y/n/n. i'm lost, i'm seriously not okay and you just don't care at all."

you're stunned for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently as your mind races to rush something out, anything,because you aren't sure you can bear to see richie look at you like this for one more second. but your silence comes off wrong to richie, and tears slip out of his eyes.

“don’t you love me?” he asks, voice hoarse and cutting right through you, deeper than any knife ever could. "don't you want me to be happy?" he adds and you take a shaky breath, looking helplessly at him, where you're met with nothing but glassy eyes and tear trails. your heart is slamming in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you can't breathe.

"a-are you?" you ask, trying to keep your tone even although it comes out just as vulnerable as you feel. “h-happy. with her?”

richie freezes at your words, mouth slightly open and you watch a single tear course over his high cheekbones and down to his bottom lip as it shakes faintly. you curse yourself for the longing to feel those very lips against yours.

"i was." he whispers, voice shaking as he rubs his face with his hand under his glasses, the moisture of his fallen tears clinging from his long dark lashes onto his slender, shaking fingers. "and then - and then i lost you. and y'know, i got my girlfriend so i could distract myself, but she made me feel like absolute shit all the time and so i went and broke up with her, but -" he hiccups through his tears and you blink, biting your lip as tears cascade down your cheek in wet trails.

they broke up?

he broke up with her, and he's going through this breakup and trying to better himself after she tore him down and you've just been ignoring him - he thinks you don't care about him, that you don't love him. you start to cry harder. 

"-i thought she'd distract me from you. i-i'm sorry." he says, his voice muffled by his hands as they cover up his angelic face, his shoulders shaking as more tears fall. "i'm so sorry."he repeats. 

you see double for a second, completely shocked by his words as the breath leaves your lungs. he tried to distract himself from you... and he’s so hurt because of what you did. 

but finally, for the first time this whole damn day, you find the right words. "i-no, richie, i'm sorry, please - fuck." you break, letting out a sob as you rub your eyes furiously in search of any relief from the guilt ripping you in two. "i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm so sorry, i can't believe i did this, i didn't want to hurt you, i'm just so selfish." you babble, his sniffles making you open your eyes.

he looks so alone and so vulnerable as he hugs his arms around himself in search of comfort, tears still falling from his bright eyes and down his rosy cheeks. 

he looks devastatingly beautiful in the golden sunlight of the afternoon, a breeze ruffling his curls lightly. "just please, i can't - i can't deal with you hating me. please, please, please."

he's pleading with you and you think you may be sick from the guilt and sadness that envelopes you, so you spring forward and wrap your arms tightly around him. the force of your body pushes him against the side of his car and the way he clings back to you like you're the last thing holding him to earth just makes you cry even harder.

"i don't hate you, richie. i love you, i love you too much." you say, your body shaking as he just holds you tighter against him. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean any of it. you're right. i was just jealous... i'm so sorry. i was so jealous of her, i couldn't see you be with her." you mumble. "i'm so sorry."

richie pulls you back gently at your words, his eyes wide and wondering as you look at each other. "what?" he asks so innocently, his eyelashes wet and dark and his lips parted. 

you can count the freckles on his nose and cheeks, you're so close. you can feel his shuddering breath against your face as he huffs in a breath. your hands hold onto his shoulders and you decide to fuck it, you just have to tell him how sorry you are, to explain yourself.

"richie, i'm in love with you. and - and when you and her got together, it hurt so much, and i didn't want to deal with the fact that i couldn't have you, so i just ignored you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry." you say it quickly and in one breath, looking down at your shoes and how they point straight towards his.

"you're in... love with me?" he says weakly, sounding hopeful as you finally look back into his eyes guiltily. 

you laugh wetly, "of course i am, richie. how could i not fall head over heels for everything about you?"

he tears up again at your words, but this time it's accompanied by a beautiful smile and a light, wet laugh. he shakes his head, his arms circling your waist tighter as he presses his forehead against yours. your butterflies tickle your stomach at your proximity.

"fuck, y/n. i can't believe i spend my time trying to get my mind off you." he says and your breath hitches a bit. "do you have any idea how long i've been in love with you?" he asks quietly, and you let out another small laugh out of shock, but it's wet and gleeful.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, your finger curling around a strand of the dark hair on his head. he shakes his head, your noses rubbing slightly. "it's okay, y/n. i love you so much. please let me forgive you." he says, pulling a smile out of you that you don't think anybody else ever could. you nod shortly, looking into his eyes as one last tear falls. 

he kisses you tenderly then, taking your breath away.

richie fills up your every sense as he clings to you desperately, his lips salty from your combined tears and his arms strong. his tongue is gentle as it runs along your lips and enters your parted mouth, one of his hands sliding up to tilt your head up towards him. you're breathless because of him for the millionth time in your life and you decide kissing richie is the only thing you want to do forever. 

you pull away slowly, and as you lean back he presses a chaste second kiss to your lips, causing you to grin. 

you barely make eye contact as you pull apart and then you greedily pull him back to you, his lips finding yours yet again with a sweet, loving laugh.

"i love you too, rich." you mumble against his lips. he sighs almost dreamily as you pull back, biting your lip and laughing when he opens the passenger door, gesturing to it with a shy grin.

"now can i please buy you a burger?" he asks, almost bashfully, and your heart does somersaults. you nod and kiss him again, his hand falling to the small of your back, palm wide and fingers lower than you'd expected. he pulls away and his grin is loving, his eyes hooded in pride as you caress his cheek softly before you slide into the car seat.

he holds your hand the whole night and refuses to let go until you slip through your front door at near midnight, blushes on both of your cheeks and lips kiss-bruised.

the butterflies you feel as you fall asleep with a grin on your face are the exact same ones richie feels as his head finally hits the pillow, a giddy smile on his own face as he smiles to himself in the dark halfway across town.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx@brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier   @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters

[muwur]

um!! i want to request a comfort hc/drabble(?) anything !! just 👉👈 can i get hinata n/or tsuki comforting and standing up for their s/o (or friend!) who is non-binary ??

standing up for a non-binary s/o

♡ scenarios ♡ for hinata and tsukishima

gn reader

turned out longer than i intended tHIS IS MY PROBLEM N Y I UPDATE SO SLOW FORGIVE ME FOEFHEFOEFRG but anyway,,,, 2.3k words

a/n: i use primarily they/them as reader’s preferred pronouns in these scenarios, but i wanted to acknowledge that ik some non-binary ppl use other pronouns,  they/he, they/she, or even all pronouns, etc :) reminder to pls be respectful to what people want and use their preferred pronouns!  and pls lmk if i ever offend you bc i don’t want to upset anyone <3

hinata

Just a week ago, you had finally mustered the courage to come out as non-binary to your boyfriend, Hinata. You recalled the rising panic you felt when you were met with silence and the slight widening of his chocolate eyes. However, his initial surprise was quickly replaced with a softness gracing his features. When he gently stroked your cheek and reassured you that nothing would change how he feels about you, you felt your heart melt with relief. You had nothing worry about, after all.

Unfortunately, not everyone could be as accepting as Hinata.

Picking at an array of noodles with a fork, you fixed your sights on the dinner plate before you, trying to ignore a certain gaze threatening to sear your skin. Next to you, Hinata grimaced. Munching on his stir fry and trying to be respectful in front of your family were the only things keeping him from wiping that leer off your aunt’s face. She was blatant in expressing her disapproval, the wrinkles in her face contorting with disgust whenever she so much as looked your way.

After your heart-to-heart with Hinata the other week, you were inspired to come out to your family as well. The news circulated, and though you weren’t expecting everyone to exactly be on board, the reality of disapproval hurt more than you imagined. It was great timing that today happened to be your cousin’s birthday, and you were forced to have dinner with one of your least favorite family members. Luckily, you were allowed to invite Hinata. You couldn’t fathom how your soon-to-be 5-year-old cousin was so kind and polite despite being reared by such a tyrannous mother.  Your earliest memory of your aunt was when she snatched your favorite toy from your toddler hands. You cried as she yelled at both you and your parents for letting you play with such a “gender-inappropriate” toy.

You knew she wouldn’t let you escape tonight without any offhand comments or dirty looks.

A throat cleared. You tensed in your seat. “Y/n? Dear, could you pass me the salt?”

You dared a glance up at the familiar voice. Your eyes locked with your aunt’s menacing ones briefly before you quietly obliged to her request.

“Thank you,” she said dully, taking the shaker. Sprinkling her meal, she continued to speak with nonchalance. “So, I heard you go by ‘they’ now? What’s wrong with he/she, hm? I mean, that is what you are, and that’s the only thing you should go by.”

Silence. Your parents looked at one another in discomfort, unsure how to respond. Your cousin looked back and forth between you and and your aunt curiously, unaware what was happening. A few more seconds passed by. With a shaky breath, you could only stutter out a timid “I-I--” before your mother cautiously piped up. “Aunt *name*, please, it’s your child’s birthday, let’s save this conversation for another ti--”

A scoff interrupted her. “Easy for you to say. You’ve always been so soft on y/n. Neither of you,” she glared accusingly at your parents, “raised her/him right. Now, look what’s happened. She/he’s gone delusional. How could any of you be okay with this and carry on like normal?”

You could feel yourself holding back tears. You wanted to say something against her, to show her you weren’t afraid of her and didn’t care what she thought. To prove that she didn’t know anything about you. That she had no right to be talking to you like this.

Yet you remained frozen in your seat, unable to speak. Inside, your mind went blank, leaving you defenseless against her hateful tirade.

“If she/he were my daughter/son, I’d set things straight immediately. No more outside communication. Who knows what nonsense they’ve been feeding your child? She/he needs to see a specialist to undo whatever brainwashing has occurred and--”

SCREECH.

Hinata stood in front of his seat, which had slid noisily across the floor when he pushed it back. He was silent, his eyes pointed downward and his two palms pressed on the table. All eyes looked at him with shock, if not a tinge of curiosity.

“Stop saying those things as if you knew one thing about y/n and what they’ve had to go through,” he said in a low voice, teeth clenched.

A challenging arch of the brow replaced your aunt’s initial surprise. “Oh, please. What do you know? You’re just a naive kid like y/n. You don’t understand. You know nothing about the real world and you kids go about life as if you can just do anything. You’re selfish.”

“You’re being selfish for refusing to understand a point of view that you’re not used to. How could you live with yourself knowing that you’re making someone you should care about miserable for the rest of their lives? You have no right to speak as though you know y/n. All you care about is your opinion, regardless of whether or not it’s right, and how you look to other people. What’s wrong with letting y/n make their own decisions? Why invalidate them before even giving them the chance to explain and help you understand? You should think about how you’re acting before trying to teach someone else how they should live.”

The air cracked with silent tension. It was too much. Quickly, you got up and dashed to the front door, unlocking it and stepping outside to breathe in the cool evening air. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stumbled off the front porch, increasing the distance between yourself and that dinner table.

Your body jolted with shock when you heard a familiar voice out and felt a pair of arms wrap from behind your frame. Hinata was breathing heavily, his rushed voice laced with worry. “I’m sorry for making a scene in front of your family, y/n, but I couldn’t just sit around and let her say whatever she wanted. You don’t deserve that treatment. I don’t regret anything I told her. And if she’s still bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, you bet I’m gonna be there to stick up for you, no matter what.”

Despite the tears that pricked at your eyes, a small smile formed on your lips. Ditching your family dinner, you spent the rest of the evening together seated in a booth at a nearby fast food restaurant, munching on goodies and sharing lighthearted jokes. That night, you were reminded that it didn’t matter what someone like your aunt thought. Those who did matter were the ones who accepted and cared for you--the real you. In the midst of darkness, you found yourself a radiant being who never failed to brighten your day. You didn’t know what you did to deserve Hinata, but you knew he would be by your side through it all. For that, you were grateful.

tsukishima

After a rough week of nonstop work, food delivery, and 1AM espressos, you were relieved Saturday had finally come. Tsukishima, who had come by your home a few times that week to check up on you(r sanity) and drop off some surprise dinners, nagged you to take better care of yourself and offered to treat you to lunch that weekend (after you promised to get a lot of rest when you were finished). When you beat your deadlines early Friday evening, you nearly cried tears of joy and immediately passed out on your bed to catch up on lost sleep.

Saturday reminded you of the beauty of the outside world, much needed after your long week of confinement. Both sun and clouds gathered in the pale blue sky overhead. Warm sunshine freckled your skin while a gentle breeze cooled your temple. Hand in hand, you walked down the block with Tsukishima towards the farmer’s market. Already you could hear the nearby murmurs of a crowd and smell the savory aroma of freshly cooked food. Your stomach grumbled with enthusiasm as you thought about all the delicious choices waiting to be ordered.

Numerous vendors lined up down the street. Smoke arose from hot grills, carrying the scent of various spices through the air. Workers called out to passing customers, offering them samples of their homemade nut butters or showing off their natural, handmade soaps. With a fascinated glint in your eye, you observed each stand you passed by. From Hawaiian poke, grilled paninis, and tacos, to Thai stir fry, barbecue, and shawarma, the options seemed endless. As much as you loved the variety, it made making a decision even more difficult.

“Tsukkiiii,” you said pleadingly, “I don’t know what I want.”

He sighed. “Well, what’s your appetite in the mood for?”

“No clue, that’s why I’m asking.”

When he shot you an annoyed look, you held your hands up. “Hey, I’ve been using my brain way too much this week. I’m tired of thinking. I’m pretty down for anything, to be honest.”

With a shrug, he suggested trying the ramen from a stand several feet away from you both. You happily agreed and dragged the both of you to stand in line. Looking down at your shirt, you pulled on it slightly and adjusted the pin attached close to your collar. It depicted a cartoon cat with a text bubble that said “they/them” to indicate your preferred pronouns (though, in the note above, ik you may have a different combination of preferred pronouns. feel free to just sub in whatever those are into the pin ^-^ ). You recalled how you heart rushed with excitement when you found it in your mailbox that morning.

“You know, you didn’t have to get this for me,” you told your blonde companion as you admired your gift. Hands in his pockets, he gave you another shrug. “I just thought it suited you. Plus, strangers won’t misgender you, anymore.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Kei... Thank you, again, really.”

His lips formed into a thin line and he looked off to the side. He muttered a low, “Don’t mention it.” before stepping forward to follow the shortening line. A huff of amusement escaped you in response. You were also taking a step forward when you felt a shove on your left side. Tsukishima caught you mid-stumble, helping you regain your balance and stand upright again. Narrowing his eyes, he looked over at the man who bumped into you. The stranger caught himself from stumbling as well, then scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that young man/woman! I wasn’t looking clearly,” he apologized.

You shook your head in response, offering him a smile. “No worries. I’m glad we’re both okay.”

He was about to laugh in agreement when he noticed the pin attached to your top. His smile vanished and he looked at you quizzically. “Say, what’s that pin you got there?”

“Oh,” you pointed at it. “This? These are my gender pronouns. I go by ‘them/them,’” you announced proudly.

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “What does that even mean? ‘They/them’ is plural, so doesn’t it make more sense to just go by he/she?” He paused for a few seconds of thought. Then, it clicked. “Is this that ‘gender identity’ bullshit I’ve been hearing about lately?”

Your enthusiasm quickly dissipated. ‘Oh gosh, please don’t tell me that this person’s--’

“Now missy/boy, I don’t know what’s gotten into all your heads, thinking you can just pick and choose whatever or whoever you want to be. What you were born with is who you are. Why can’t people accept that and have to complicate things? It’s biology. I swear, people are just doing this for attention or a trend or whatever--”

“Ahem,” Tsukishima cleared his throat, interrupting the man’s rant. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and drew you close against himself. “Perhaps the topic is too complex for your tiny mind to comprehend,” he challenged, his voice dripping with collected hostility. “You should stop going on about things you don’t understand; it makes you look even more ignorant. Now, please, stop bothering my partner before you piss me off more.”

The stranger glared up at Tsukishima, then back at you. Deciding it wasn’t worth a fight, the man scoffed and shoved past your boyfriend;s shoulder, then disappeared into the crowd. Behind you, a kid’s wide eyes looked at Tsukishima with awe. “Wow, that was really cool! You really showed him!”

“Tch, it was nothing,” he responded bashfully. “Can’t let assholes get away with whatever they want.”

15 minutes later and you were both settled in a shady area on a grassy field with ramen bowls in your lap. Your eyes were glued to the ground. Tsukishima waved a hand in front of your face with concern.

“Earth to y/n? You good? You’ve been quiet since we encountered that guy earlier.”

You risked looking up into his eyes, unable to control the stream of tears running down your eyes. Surprised, the blonde placed his hands on the sides of your face and started to wipe your tears off with his thumbs. “I-I’m just, r-really grateful that you,” you choked between sobs, “were here with m-me, today. I d-don’t know what I would’ve done if I was alone.”

You let him wrap his arms around you as you buried your face in his shoulder. He nestled his cheek onto the top of your head and ran a gentle hand up and down your spine. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, anymore. I promise.”

Several minutes later, you pulled away, sniffling and rubbing the remaining tears from your eyes with your forearm. He gave your head a small pat.

gRhhrrhGRH.

“Someone sounds hungry.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand off your head.

2 minutes into eating, and you asked (suggestively), “Can we eat from the same bowl and see if we end up connecting noodles?”

“N-No, that’s dumb.” 

“Oh, c’monnnnn~ You know you want to, you’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

a/n: sry about the weird stomach growl effect LMAO

if you coudlnt tell i was hungry writing this n i miss going out to eat foueherhggu

i hope u enjoyed <3 pls lmk if u would like any changes anon or smth different (liks regular hc’s, etc). have a lovely day n i hope you feel better <3 ill fite anyone who makes u feel bad >:(

[franvanmoron]

Lady Bela Dimitrescu AU

So um... I am writing an AU where Bela becomes a fifth lord and becomes the hot villain she is destined to be. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32517028/chapters/80651974

Summary: Bela Dimitrescu's biggest fear was disappointing her mother until Mother Miranda taught her her own worth and nurtured the knowledge hungry soul of her eldest granddaughter. Familial connections break, severed for the rest of time, replaced by hatred and accusations. Under her grandmother's guidance, Bela rises to power and blossoms as a young Lord.

Chapter 1: The Beginning to the End

She’d visited the castle on the first day of summer, not for a visit with her false “daughter” but rather the eldest of the Dimitrescu girls, Bela.

Bela, who hadn’t received word about a meeting until hours prior.

Bela, who hadn’t been informed as to why this meeting was taking place.

Bela, who was now running down the halls like her life depended on it -- and maybe it did.

Bela swept through the castle, moving at her quickest speed -- a sight seldom seen by the maids and servants that journeyed through the halls to their next tasks. Even when the blonde was hunting her prey, she kept to a slower speed to make the chase last longer.

But this was different. This was different on every single range, scale, and.. and.. some other form of.. something! She doesn't know. Too many other things to focus on.

For instance, why her?  

She's the eldest. If Mother Miranda -- Grandmother Miranda? She doesn't know. That's an entirely different can of worms that she isn't even sure she's allowed to open--

If Mother Miranda wished to speak to one of the girls, then of course she would choose the eldest. It was only logical.

But, still, why?

It'll be okay, she's sure. It's not like the dignity of the entirety of House Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda's favor resides on her shoulders alone or anything....

It did. It totally did.

If this meeting goes well then that will go over very well with Mother. After all, the only person Mother cared about pleasing was Mother (Grandmother?) Miranda. So, logically, Bela should do her best to please her too.

Then it's settled. She's doing this, and she's going to succeed.. in whatever this meeting is about. Details were scarce and that did nothing to soothe her nerves.

The eldest Dimitrescu girl took a deep breath, and pushed into the Opera Hall.

"My apologies for my lateness, Mother Miranda. I offer no excuses." The girl bowed her head and clasped her hands neatly in front of her, not even having dared to look up at her.

But when she did...

Never had she seen such strength embodied by such beauty, perfectly wrapped by an air of grace. From those steely blue eyes burning a hole right through her, to the feathered headdress, and that weathered, gold mask -- avian in appearance.

She was ethereal.

She was Mother Miranda.

“Silence, Bela. You will not be punished this time.”

This time.

Bela knew better than to miss -- or dismiss, for that matter -- a single word that the woman before her speaks. That would be suicide in itself. She knew that.

“Have a seat, won’t you? We have much to discuss.” The elder of the two not only gestured to a seat but took one directly across from it, as if this were her domain -- and, it is, in a way.

“Much to discuss” , as it turned out, would be the end of it all -- the end of anything that mattered -- the end of Bela’s humanity. Though that didn’t happen until much later. Not because it was a slow process. No, the process was so quick that it had happened in almost the blink of an eye. Seemingly overnight, the eager to please Bela had become quite the enigmatic piece of work, pushing and fighting with not only her sisters but every little word that came from her mother’s mouth. All beginning with this simple meeting.

“Yes, Mother Miranda.”

“Don’t look so anxious, dear.” Almost subconsciously Bela’s brow pulled together, nose crinkling. Had she been appearing worried? She hadn’t meant to -- and she was very sure that she had a far better grasp on her expressions than her sisters, and sometimes even her mother. “How are you? Your sisters?”

“We’re.. Very well, thank you for asking. With..” To ramble, or not to ramble? That is the question that plagues her, that she knows must be a split second decision. Too many words could anger her but too little would do the same. “With the start of summer comes higher temperatures. My sisters and I are very excited to be able to get out and breathe the fresh air and hunt deer once again. It gets unbelievably stuffy in here during the entirety of winter, with every fireplace constantly roaring and the lack of air coming in any other way.”

Mother Miranda did not speak, she didn’t even look at the girl, eyes cast to the piano that she’d been observing when Bela arrived. It obviously received a great deal of use. By which daughter? Alcina did indulge at some point, she knew that, but with her current height… That was an unlikely hobby for the Lady of the house.

“Um..” What a fool she is, spluttering like a beached whale. Hasn’t Mother taught you anything? She had, but in such a presence, how was Bela meant to remember a single word? “Do you.. Like--”

“Who plays it?”

“We-- We all do. Mother insists that any well taught young lady can play piano.”

“Play for me.” Then, as an afterthought, “Anything.”

Anything. Couldn’t she have made it easy on her? Bela knew many songs, but choosing the right one would be of utmost importance. What if she chooses the wrong one? That’s death, isn’t it? Mother Miranda is not a forgiving person or a merciful one, from her understanding. She would kill someone who did something as little as lightly agitate her.

At least, that’s what Mother says.

Clearing her throat, the blonde stalked over to the piano, giving an unsure glance over to the crow-like woman and receiving an encouraging nod in return -- surprising. Her nerves loosened after that one show of.. Kindness? It could be perceived as that. It will be perceived as that.

Slender fingers flexed once -- twice -- before a sigh slipped past her lips and they began traversing over the keys, picking up into song as if that was all they’d ever done, as if she’d known nothing but dancing across those ivory keys. It was so easy to get lost in it. In the way t he bar began slow, low, and crescendoed in quick succession into the highest of notes where she danced a waltz of her own only to decrescendo back into the lows and begin the set all over again.

Happiness had found her there, sitting on that bench and quietly humming that Chopin tune. Even her confidence had weaseled back into her being, nestling just behind her heart, which quickly dropped as the robed woman took up the space beside her, causing the crashing of notes that would follow -- disharmonious, dissonant, cacophonous. All the words one could choose from, and yet Miranda chose--

“Beautiful, Bela. You’re very talented.”

“Really?” A laugh almost escaped her, a sigh of disbelief -- but Mother Miranda doesn’t say anything she doesn’t mean. She knew that, and so, she couldn’t help but beam with pride.

“Yes, yes. I wonder.. If your talents go beyond the realm of music.. say.. into science, perchance?”

“Well..” Whether or not she has a talent for science, she doesn’t know. On the rare occasion that she helped her mother in the lab, Bela didn’t usually do too much beyond handing over tools and prepping insertion areas. Even documenting dosages was outside the realm of what she was allowed to do. But.. science as a whole had always intrigued her, and though the Castle didn’t have much on the subject, she read as much as she could. “I.. would like to find out?”

“I’m glad to hear it, because I have a need for an assistant in my lab. Do you think you could do that?” After receiving an eager nod, Miranda continued. “Good. I will send a crow the morning that I need you, and I will expect you in my chambers by noon. Understood?” Another nod in response.

Satisfied by the eldest Dimitrescu’s compliance, the grand matriarch stood and swept away from the piano. Her eyes seemed to be scouring the room, seemingly observing the decor. In reality, her eyes merely moved with the track of her mind, going back and forth from thought to thought -- turning each and every one over repeatedly and tasting them. Some were far more sour than others, and some.. A special kind of sweet.

“Keep playing.” An offhand comment. Her attention was no longer in the room, and when Bela reached the end of her song near several minutes later, the rest of Mother Miranda had long since followed her line of thought out of the castle.

[kyle-valenti]

highschool milucho au drabble for @laufire

Lunch period arrives what feels like all too late after a hectic morning where Michael Guerin had punched Wyatt Long in the face for Maria. While she still thought he was an idiot for having done it, she downs a brownie for sustenance and brings Rosa along outside with her to go check on him. Unsurprisingly he was in the spot she had expected, clearly having ditched at least one class prior, and Rosa skipped over to him and roughly grabbed his hand to check on the bruise. Rosa scoffed, putting her hand to her chest with what was only half-kidding offense. “You fought him without me there? En serio? How dare you!”

Sitting up a little more against the metal bleacher column he had been leaning against, Michael gave a casual shrug. There’s still a smirk on his face as he does so. “Can’t help it if you’re always late to wake up, Ortecho.”

“He was dumb.” Maria said, a scolding look on her face that didn’t quite match her eyes. Both sat down without caring about chairs, Rosa too lazy and Maria liking to feel the earth underneath her. The shade provided overhead was just enough and while the teachers usually checked underneath here, the school was luckily short staffed due to a field trip. Also lucky was the lack of campus security in a small town. 

“No, he was right.” Rosa huffed. “Fuck Wyatt Long.”

“Thank you,” said Michael, turning to Maria with a smug look in response. Maria rolled her eyes, but Rosa still looked angry and displeased at the idea of Wyatt Long being within feet of Maria, because she continued, “Are you gonna hate me if I run over and slap him?”

“Yes!” Maria exclaimed. “Stop with the violence, you two! He’s not worth it.”

Rosa made a disgruntled sound, muttering, “Pacifist.”

“I am a lover, yes.” Maria replied with a teasing tone; one that Michael couldn’t help but use to flirt with a sultry, “Tell me more.”

She hit his arm and although the other girl rolled her eyes, Rosa was still distinctly smiling as Michael winked Maria’s way.

“Gross, stop.” She huffed, no meanness in her voice. “Even Kyle Valenti thinks we’re dating.”

“Kyle?” Rosa laughed. “Kyle’s not remotely observant enough to think that.”

Michael made a noise at that. “He was just being an ass because I commented on how he was clearly in love with Alex Manes.”

Maria glared now. “Be nice to my favorite gay and the clearly repressed football jock.”

“Here I thought you were about to pick a favorite bi.” Michael joked.

“Why would she?” Rosa challenged with a smirk. “I’m right here.”

“Right,” Michael drawled sarcastically. “Just because you two have sleepovers--,”

“Oh my god, you two.” Maria snapped, but that was the wrong decision because the two mischievous partners-in-crime looked at her with sudden interest. Michael was the first to pounce. “We making you uncomfortable, Deluca?”

He’s all but grinning, not even hiding behind a smirk, eyes alive. Even Rosa is clearly amused and holding onto laughter.

“Why the hell did everyone have to go on that museum trip?” Maria huffed, trying to ignore both of them and the feelings that rose up when the direct attention of two people who hated the world but liked her was suddenly her way. She definitely needed more friends, or at least less nerdy ones. “I need Liz.”

“You’d really use my baby sister to get out of flirting?” Rosa asked, letting out the laughter now.

Maria could feel her cheeks heat and she folded her arms stubbornly. “I’m about to use Kyle to get out of this. Luckily I have tests to study for.”

“What test?” Rosa replied, one eyebrow arched. “We have all the same classes.”

“And you suddenly pay attention?”

Rosa gave in with a playfully exasperated expression. “Okay, okay, mi vida; we’ll stop.” Then, amending as she looked conspiratorially at Michael, she said, “Well. I’ll stop.”

“I’ll try.” Michael shrugged, pretending to look as thought it would be heavy work. “I have considerably less self-control.”

Quirking her head, Rosa retorted. “Challenge accepted.”

Michael raised his eyebrows in response, before laughing. “Yeah okay.”

“Why am I always babysitting you two?” Maria sighed. “Please, tell me.”

“You’re the one who brought the pot brownies to school.” Rosa pointed out.

She couldn’t say much to that. Home had been stressful with her mother’s sudden memory lapses when it came to finances and worrying about colleges after SAT scores was even more anxiety inducing. If she was rich and privileged like Isobel Evans, maybe she could afford some xanax, but in the meantime her anxiety attacks would have to be treated herbally. Childishly, she pointed at Michael. “He’s the one who brought the flask.”

Definitely unapologetic, he shrugged. “Less teachers, more fun.”

“Fun?” Rosa asked. “We haven’t had fun in a while.”

“True.” Michael added, lighting up even further. Maria groaned. “Is this another ‘steal the principal’s desk’ situation?”

“No, but that was fun.” Rosa said thoughtfully. “We should have more… teenage fun. We have the drugs, the alcohol, now--,”

“I am not having sex under the Roswell High bleachers!”

Rosa gasped before laughing awkwardly, and Michael’s grin took an even brighter turn. “Wow, Deluca, I see where your mind’s really at.” Then he turned to Rosa, who noticeably looked pinker, and paused. Slowly, he inquired. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Rosa replied. It wasn’t like she and Maria belonged to each other, true, but something about the mischievous Michael Guerin staying around after Maria’s slip seemed to create palpable tension. Fumbling, the beautiful brunette added, “I mean we’ve all kissed before forever ago, right? Why don’t you pick your favorite bi, Maria.”

“I’m not sure choosing favorites qualifies as fun.” She retorted, trying not to withdraw into herself. She was safe with them, she knew that, but it still felt dangerous somehow. She looked at Michael. “No sudden objections?”

Michael scoffed. “You actually think I’m going to object to being kissed by two hot girls? I’m only human, Deluca.”

Biting her lip after rolling her eyes, Maria tried not to think about how attractive her last name was every time he said it, because that was such a ridiculous thing to find attractive. Rosa had picked up on the habit, although used it far more rarely, and now she was stuck in between them.

“We don’t have to--,” Rosa began. Shaking her head, Maria came to an abrupt decision. “You decide who goes first.”

“Ladies first.” Michael declared congenially.

When Rosa turned to Maria she looked hesitant and unsure. Charged moments weren’t exactly new to them, but they didn’t exactly kiss outside of spin-the-bottle or seven-minutes-in-heaven games. Any heterosexual excuse to be made, somewhere between Rosa’s Catholicism and Maria’s fear of being vulnerable to someone. 

Only two seconds pass before the hesitation is over and then Rosa’s lips are soft and inviting like Maria remembered, tasting of cinnamon gum and tajin mango suckers. It’s an addictive flavor, especially with the flood of emotions it foretells every time. At first it’s closer to chaste than not, given the company, but like many times before it deepens until they hear Michael shift and quickly break apart. 

Maria expects some dumbass comment about not needing to stop for his sake, but either he’s too turned on to make it or he simply knows better for the moment. Shockingly, it seems like the second choice with the almost exposed look he has on his face now. For whatever reason, maybe because of his general outward mask, she had thought that while she’d be safe this would still be a fun game to him and not something where his eyes would be soft and his body language almost nervous.

More than anything else, that makes her choose to kiss him first. 

With Michael she can only taste the cheap whiskey he’s been drinking all afternoon, but his skin smells like desert rain, and it’s quite possibly the most confusing contradiction for him she could ever conceive. The shape of his lips might be a contrast to Rosa’s but he still uses them quite well and by the time she pulls back out of mindfulness for Rosa, she’s breathless yet again. 

 “Obviously I’m not actually choosing.” Maria said primly, trying to cover the fact that she had to clear her throat.

“Well I feel used.” Michael teased, but a miracle had happened because it looked like he was blushing too. Michael Guerin. Blushing.

Rosa made an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “As if you’re not getting off to this tonight.”

“Rosa!” Maria snapped, actual hurt rising. It was silly to be upset about offhand humor from either of these two, she knew that. They both felt more than they would ever let on and jokes and sarcasm were their defense for almost everything. Rosa went to apologize, but the overwhelming feeling in her chest was too much. “Don’t. I’m just—I’m going to go sober up.”

They both called after her, but she ignored them both.

“I should really avoid weed, huh?” Rosa deadpanned sadly.

He raised his flask. “I can’t say anything. You gonna follow her?”

“You?” she asked without an answer.

“You’re her best friend.” Michael countered, and while it wasn’t technically sexist she still narrowed her eyes at the ‘you’re both girls’ vibe it gave off. Either way, it was still a painful statement and she muttered, “Yeah. Friend.” Michael went to say something—either an apology or a lecture—but Rosa shook her head. “I’ll give her a head start. You should check on her later too, though.”

Michael scoffed. “Come on, Rosa, she doesn’t want me. I’m just a guy she can use to pretend she’s straighter than she is.”

“Ay, you’re dumb.”

“And if she did want both of us?” Michael demanded, turning things back into their normalcy of confrontation and stubbornness.

“At least you’re not ugly.”

That seemed to take the wind out of his sails at least, but he did give her a look. “Glowing endorsement, Ortecho.”

She smirked. “And I guess you know how to kiss for a white boy.”

“That I’ll take.” He replied, chuckling despite himself and looking annoyed about it.

Rosa gave him a two finger salute as she got up to go after Maria.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 10

Protective Snek meets Tired Boi (With Flowers!)

Chapter 9 | Masterlist | Chapter 11

Warnings: crying, mentions of sex, mentions of lying and mistrust

(Jan 2nd)

V- (10:20 AM) Hey Pat, what do you want for your birthday?

P- (10:21 AM) I don’t need anything big, Kiddo. Just another drawing from you would be amazing :)

V- (10:21 AM) Is there nothing that you would be happy with me buying you?

P- (10:22 AM) Well, I like flowers!

L- (10:22 AM) No you don’t. None of us have gardening skills and you cry every time they wilt.

P- (10:22 AM) I still like them! We’ll just have to try harder this time!

Virgil thought for a few minutes before smirking. He exited the chat and opened up a chat with Janus and Remus.

V- (10:23 AM) Do either of you have the staff contacts from that charity event 2 months ago?

J- (10:23 AM) Perhaps

Re- (10:23 AM) Y the hell do you want them?

V- (10:24 AM) Do you remember the flowers that they were selling? I want to contact whoever they bought them from.

J- (10:24 AM) You mean like the one that Remus bought for me?

V- (10:25 AM) Yes, but less obscene colors.

Re- (10:25 AM) Wait let me guess

Re- (10:26 AM) “Princey’s” birthday was in July and “Lo” doesn’t seem like the flower type, so this is for “Pat,” isn’t it?

V- (10:26 AM) Do you have the fucking contact or not?

J- (10:27 AM) Even better. I have the address

V- (10:27 AM) Why the fuck do you have the address?

J- (10:27 AM) Remus TOTALLY didn’t break the original flower as soon as we got home.

Re- (10:28 AM) HEY! I tripped on YOUR stupid rug and it happened to end up crushed underneath me!

J- (10:28 AM) LEAVE THE RUG OUT OF THIS!

Virgil chuckled, eventually breaking up their argument so he could get the phone number and address. Once he had it, he called the shop and ordered a custom-made bouquet. They told him that it would be ready for pick-up in 2 weeks. He turned back to his crush’s chat.

V- (10:29 AM) Just finished ordering your gift.

P- (10:29 AM) What is it?!

V- (10:30 AM) It’s a surprise! Oh, and do you still have the vase that your chocolate bouquet was in?

P- (10:30 AM) Yeah, why?

V- (10:30 AM) You may wanna have it empty on your birthday :)

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

(January 16th)

“So, where are we going?” Remus asked, chugging the rest of his Pepsi.

“To get Virgil’s flowers, darling. We’ve been over this.” Janus replied, adjusting his rearview mirror. Virgil laid in the back, fast asleep. Janus sighed. Virgil never got enough sleep, in his opinion. It was difficult to get Virgil fully asleep by 4 AM, and even then he was usually awake by 9 AM. Ever since he met his new “crushes,” Virgil had been getting better with his sleeping habits ( “Lo’s been trying to rope me into their sleeping schedule,” Virgil had admitted with a blush ); but he still didn’t sleep enough, in Janus’ humble opinion.

Speaking of crushes, Janus focused his eyes on the empty road as he thought about the three men who had stolen his best friend's heart. Pat, Lo, and Princey, Virgil called them. Not much to work with in terms of name, and no physical characteristics either. Janus was halfway convinced to stalk them (he knew where they lived, after all) but the thought of Virgil hating him for it shut up those thoughts immediately. Virgil already dealt with a ton of Janus bullshit without complaint, the least he could do is honor Virgil’s wish to keep his crushes anonymous. Even though Janus had no physical description to work off of, Virgil's offhand comments were enough for Janus to paint a decent picture of them.

"Princey," the first one that Virgil met. Extremely dramatic, probably light-headed and egotistical. The one that Janus ordered a katana for. A fucking katana. Why would he want a katana of all things? And those nicknames. His nicknames for Virgil were worse than Remus’, and that’s saying something. Though he was kind to Virgil in their interactions; at least, that’s what Virgil told him. Janus would have to keep a close eye on this one.

“Pat,” the one they were going to pick up flowers for. The so-called “Dad Friend” of the group. Called Virgil “Kiddo.” Mother-henned the shit out of him. Even though Virgil was their Sugar Daddy, Janus wouldn’t be surprised if they called Pat “Daddy” in bed. On the other hand, some of the things that Virgil said spoke otherwise. Pat’s love of stuffed animals, his goofy puns, his opinion against swearing; he sounded like a child in an adult body. An oxymoron, and someone that Janus will also have to keep an eye on.

And “Lo.” Possibly the one that Janus trusted the least out of the trio. Extremely serious. Chocolate addict. Has a fucking sleep schedule for his boyfriends. Probably a control freak. Works part-time at the library. Goes to the local college. More interested in space than the world around him. Probably even more egotistical than Princey. Spends the majority of his time arguing with others or chastising Virgil for spending money on them. Most likely to upset Virgil. One that Janus would definitely be keeping an eye on.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He would not let them hurt Virgil. And if they somehow did, well…

Some of Father’s old associates could still prove useful. They at least knew how to hide a body. Or three.

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

(January 17th)

Janus triple-checked the address, making sure that he was at the right house. Virgil had needed a safe way to ship these flowers to Pat’s house without Pat finding out OR one of his crushes seeing his face. So, Janus agreed to be his delivery boy. It made sense; Deceit wore the most makeup AND he hissed every other line, so it was near impossible to be recognized out-of-costume. And if Janus got a good look at Virgil’s crushes… well, Virgil wasn’t here now, was he? Janus set the bouquet on the middle of the porch; far enough for the person to not accidentally knock it over on their way outside, but close enough to where it would be noticed and not accidentally fall off the edge. He tapped the door three times with the back of his knuckles and quickly turned around, making a beeline for his car. He intended on getting a glimpse of the man’s face as he drove away, hopefully seeing enough to be able to spot him off the college roster-

“Wait!” Janus stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t expect him to be that fast. There was a moment of silence before Janus heard a sigh. “You’re not Virgil, are you?”

He smirked. “Yes, I’m definitely Virgil. I just decided to knock on your door and increase the chances of you seeing me when I could’ve just texted me.”

The man sighed again. “You must be Janus, then. I assume that since you arrived specifically when Patton wouldn’t be home today, you came to drop off his birthday present.” There was a slight pause, probably meant for Janus to respond. Suddenly. There was a soft “Oh.” Janus couldn’t take it anymore; he turned around and his jaw dropped.

The man was tall, taller than any of the Dark Sides. He had dark brown hair, brushed neatly out of his face. He wore a pair of square glasses, which perfectly framed his dark blue eyes. He wore a black button-up shirt and dark wash jeans. A navy blue tie hung loosely around his neck. But what caught Janus’ attention was the look of pure adoration on his face as he looked at the flowers on the porch. His face was so open and kind, something that Janus never expected him to look like. Is this the look that Janus gave Remus when they were alone? If so, Janus now understood why Virgil didn’t want to be in their relationship. Just the look on Lo’s face was enough to make Janus feel excluded from their relationship. Suddenly, the adoration turned to a more mischievous look. “That’s why he wanted Patton to clean out that vase,” he said fondly, before shaking his head. “Do I even want to know how much Virgil spent on this?”

“Nope.” Janus made sure to keep his voice nonchalant, not showing any sign of weakness. He watched curiously as Logan did the same, schooling his expression before looking up at Janus. His eyes briefly flickered over to Janus’ scar, but other than that he paid no mind to it. Janus felt something rise within him; whether respect or irritation, he couldn’t tell. “Now’s the time where I must ask: what are your intentions with Virgil?” He made sure to keep an even tone, not wanting to influence Lo’s response.

Lo blinked, looking almost surprised, before his eyes dropped back to the flowers. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “On one hand, Virgil is an amazing person that I’ve now known for several months. I know that the others have wanted to ask him to join our relationship for a while. On the other hand, we know very little about him. Unless Virgil inherited this money, there’s no possible way that his only profession is commissioning art. What else has he lied about? How can I trust him, much less love him, if I don’t know when he’s lying to me?”

Janus slowly raised his left hand, using his right to cover his heart. “My name is Janus Williams. I swear to you my full honesty. Ask me anything that you don’t believe other than Virgil’s profession, and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

Lo rubbed a hand against his face- fuck, the guy was actually crying. “That’s the problem. I want to believe him; I want to read his texts and not feel even the slightest bit of skepticism. I want to eagerly accept him into our relationship, no questions asked. But I can’t!” He looked back up at Janus, the look in his eyes something that will pierce Janus’ soul for a long time. “I’ve spent the past 8 years taking care of my boyfriends. I can’t have Virgil hurt them, accidentally or on purpose! I will do anything to keep them safe, even if it means keeping Virgil away.”

Janus sighed, pitying the man in front of him. “Would you like some advice, Lo?” At Lo’s nod, he turned to walk away. “Virgil has no intention of ever harming you. He originally lied to you so that he wouldn’t get hurt or used. He’s never had to tell anyone this secret, and he’s never been one to easily trust others. I know you’ve already waited a long time, but please, be patient. He’ll come to you when he’s ready, I swear.” And with that, Janus got in his car and drove away. Once he got to the nearest available parking spot (located at a sickeningly sweet bakery) he pulled out his phone to text Virgil.

J- (2:12 PM) Package delivered

V- (2:12 PM) Thanks, man. Did they see you?

Janus paused. Should he tell Virgil about their encounter? Something told him that Lo wouldn’t mention their interaction to Virgil. If he did, then Janus would come clean. If not…

J- (2:13 PM) No, Virgil. The secret identities of your boy toys are safe.

V- (2:13 PM) Cool. I’ll let them know that it’s there.

And with that, Janus drove back home, where he can watch shitty romcoms and hopefully forget about the tired look in Lo’s eyes.

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

P- (5:04 PM) Oh my gosh, I love these Kiddo!

R- (5:04 PM) What did he get you?

P- (5:05 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo shows the light blue vase that Patton’s chocolate bouquet was in. The vase was filled with beautiful glass roses. They were mainly clear, with the tips of each petal either red, navy blue, sky blue, or violet.]

V- (5:05 PM) Now you can have flowers that'll never die. Happy Birthday, Pat.

P- (5:06 PM) Thank you SO much, Virgil!

V- (5:06 PM) :)

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst