#thinking about him avoiding showers for days at a time because he'd be forced to get rid of the bandage-binder

[glockhashira]

I NEED to spread my trans ftm zenitsu propaganda

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[crustyfloor]

Till's point of view on his and Ivan's relationship - An (personal) analysis of Till's side of things leading up to Round 7.

As kids, IvanTill's relationship was tulmotious, to say the least.

Ivan would do things to rile Till up as a means of getting closer to Till when they were just starting out, and Till would fall for it.

Ivan would steal Till's things and turn around and give it back like some evil Christmas gift as a means of trying to get closer to Till, and Till would fall for that too, for some time.

But we all know Till isn't stupid. Till must've noticed after some time that the constant disappearance of his stuff only to be coincidentally found by Ivan every time wasn't actually a coincidence. And Till, being handled roughly his whole life by aliens naturally wouldn't have been so fond of the way Ivan would constantly instigate fights with him. All of these things that Ivan did, they did irritate Till. In any normal case they would've given all the more reason to avoid Ivan. So why did Till let him linger?

Well, I think Till actually considered Ivan at least a good friend, At least at the start. Ivan was strange, mean, and annoying but he was one of the only people who actually made an effort to stay and get close to Till. To have someone in a world like this would mean a lot to a kid like Till, even though Till and Ivan had their moments he was still the closest person to Till.

Other than that, Till is a high-spirited, compassionate, and emotional character. it's shown in a comic where Ivan and Till spot a crushed flower and Till tells it to cheer up out of sympathy, it's shown in the way Till cares about others around him even if he holds a cold exterior that keeps him from showing his heart often.

This isn't to say Till regarded Ivan because he felt bad for him, he didn't know the first thing about what went on in Ivan's mind. Till allowed Ivan around him because he cared about him enough to look past those aspects, Till is observant enough, so he was able to see that Ivan was just a kid trying. Till indulged Ivan, allowed him to stay because he cared.

And then we have the meteor shower scene. (pain&suffering.exe)

Ivan, motivated by his strong love tries to get Till to escape with him at the perfect moment. Keyword tries. Because they couldn't get far before Till stopped in his tracks and went right back to Anakt Garden, why? fear of the unknown? Of course. But it's because Till wouldn't have been able to live with himself knowing he left behind a person he loved so very dearly, Mizi. He couldn't possibly leave her there, aware of these deep feelings he had for her. He cared too much to leave.

Till probably felt guilty, going back to Anakt garden because it was all in wrong timing, probably felt guilty knowing he disappointed Ivan back there. But imagine just how much guiltier he felt seeing Ivan the next day. He followed Till back knowing there was no way he'd get the chance to escape again. And so this was the first thread of their relationship that was frayed.

After this point, Ivan was under the full assumption that he had been wrong about how he thought Till saw him so he gradually started to distance himself too, Ivan's antics seemed to have mellowed out, as they grew more distant but he still messed with Till, remained in his life in the shadows, and cared about him, becoming gentle when Till was unaware because even then he couldn’t force himself to leave Till’s world even if Till wanted to leave him in favor of a more bright, beautiful paint that permeated Till's dull canvas, that was so much different from his own bland, dark existence.

Till noticed their distance, and Till thought Ivan hated him for leaving him behind, so as a last effort to bring Ivan back to him and fix his relationship with his friend, to let Ivan know he wanted him near, he left him a message on graduation.

"You were the one who stole my pencil at that time right?"

That was in response to Ivan's "I hope you'll remember me" message.

Till's response sounds pretty straightforward, by design. but I read it as an indirect pointing to a direct message; "I know it was you, of course, I'll remember you. I'm not even mad at you for all of it...So come back?" unfortunately for Till, Ivan didn't read it like this because Ivan isn't a simple person, he needed more than Till could give him. So most likely instead Ivan ended up reading the message as Till still not caring this only motivated him to distance them more until they weren't even talking anymore.

And so after everything, round 6 comes. Till has to compete and win against Ivan.

Till went into round 6 with the full intent to kill himself on that stage and let Ivan win. He couldn't continue to live in a world he hated, in a world where he was tormented, was used, and had nothing else to live for. he couldn't continue to live in a world knowing Mizi, his only shining light and goddess was gone, most likely dead.

It's eerie just how close he was to succeeding, but his plan was thrown off as Ivan realized what Till was doing when he stopped singing and interfered before it was too late.

Ivan kisses Till, selfishly furious with emotions, and sentiments that haven't been addressed for years, but gentle in the message Ivan was trying to get across. Ivan chokes Till for the final blow. Till doesn't understand any of it, it's all too fast and it confuses him. it's hard to say what exactly Till was feeling in that moment, but Till doesn't fight back properly because he doesn't want to, he can't bring himself to show that spirit he had anymore, not the one Ivan saw in him when they were kids, that's been drained out of him because of years of the trauma, the torture, the pain, everything. He's tired. He's lost Mizi, and he's lost everything. If he's just meant to be lamb to the slaughter then why should he delay the inevitable fighting for a life he didn't want? So if Ivan was going to kill him in that moment, so be it. He was going to let him.

Only that's not how it goes, as soon as Ivan's hands leave him Till is disoriented. and then he is shocked, confused, worried? because he didn't expect, nor want this either, he didn't ask for this, he didn't ask for Ivan to take away that one thing he wanted. That expression on Ivan's face, he doesn't get it. But it hits him, that this was all a plan.

And at the end of the day, Ivan is dead, and Till is left staring at his peaceful corpse on the ground, with his blood staining his shoes like Ivan's actions are staining, permeating his perspective, giving him more questions and less answers. All while knowing that he is truly alone in this world now. He has been abandoned.

(I go over pencil.exe a little more in another post of mine if anyone is interested in reading keke)

[bifuriouswaterbender]

@steddieholidaydrabbles is doing some warm up rounds. This is for the Round One prompt "High School or College AU," rated T, 685 words.

"You sure your roommate won't mind?" Robin had asked.

"No," Steve had answered automatically. "He's cool."

Maybe that was proving incorrect because while they'd already been asleep curled up together in Steve's bed when Eddie got home, this morning he was being incredibly weird about it.

"You didn't leave a sock or text me or anything," Eddie hissed in his ear when Robin was using the en-suite bathroom that Steve praised for existing every single day.

He'd done the communal shower thing for sports in high school. He didn't mind avoiding it now.

Steve just shrugged and kept digging in his dresser for a shirt he knew Robin had jokingly tucked in his bags before they'd moved in. "I didn't need to. We weren't doing anything but sleeping."

"Right." Eddie sounded doubtful, but Steve ignored him.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Got a shirt for you."

It opened a crack and Robin's arm stuck through like some kind of little raccoon. Steve laughed as he handed it over.

The door shut firmly behind him, he turned back around, surprised at the look on Eddie's face. "What?"

Eddie shrugged and flopped down in his desk chair, barely avoiding hitting his head on the underside of his bed. "I dunno, I guess I'm just surprised."

"By what?"

Eddie's eyes darted to the door before settling back at Steve. "I mean this definitely doesn't feel like it was a random hookup or anything."

Steve snorted. "It definitely wasn't."

Eddie nodded, his face grim. He dropped his voice as he said, "And that means you've put me in a fucked up and really awkward place, man. You talk all the time about going out and maybe finding somebody at a party to hook up with. I don't think you really have hooked up with anyone, but am I supposed to keep that a secret from your girlfriend?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times before getting out, "Girlfriend?" Then he lost it.

The bathroom door opened behind him, and Steve heard Robin move closer. "What's so funny?" she asked.

Eddie looked stricken, but Steve managed to get out between his chuckles, "Eddie thinks we're dating."

Steve turned to see her face directly, and the priceless way she wrinkled her nose in disgust sent him into another wave of laughter, this one hard enough to force tears from his eyes.

"What the fuck," Eddie deadpanned.

"Sorry," Steve sputtered, even as Robin shook her head.

"We're not dating," she said flatly.

"I, um, am gathering that," Eddie said, his eyes rapidly flicking between them.

"Platonic," Robin said.

"With a capital P," Steve added, still wheezing.

"Besides," Robin continued, "I'm not interested in men. I'm a lesbian."

For a moment, the room was still. Then Steve found himself throwing her into a hug. "I'm so proud of you! Oh my god, you said it in front of someone!"

Robin's face turned pink, but she hugged him back. "Yeah, and you're kinda ruining that moment, dingus."

Steve sobered up immediately. He pulled back but didn't let go of her completely. With the way she leaned against his side, Steve had to assume she approved. "Sorry." He turned his gaze back to Eddie. "Well?"

Eddie, clearly unsure how he was supposed to react, blurted out, "I'm gay."

"Really?"

Robin elbowed Steve in the side for that, but he stayed focused on Eddie's panicked expression.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Eddie asked. He moved like he was trying to sound tough, but it did not come out that way.

Steve felt a stab of guilt for making him think he might be in danger.

"No, absolutely not!" Steve insisted. "I'm bisexual!"

This time Robin squealed. She was in his face before Steve could even process Eddie's reaction. "And now I'm proud of you!" she declared. "Have you told anybody but me? That's so awesome!"

Steve made eye contact with Eddie around her as a slow smile spread across his roommate's face.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I think it is."

With the way Eddie was looking at him now, it was going to be.

[da-rulah]

Hello again!

I am humbly back in your asks to shoot my shot. Could I request Popia coming back from tour and insecure reader who has heard some unsavory (untrue) rumors? Bonus for spice ♡

I adore you, and I hope you have a wonderful week. ♡

Hey lovely! This was an interesting little scenario in my head... I don't know if you wanted the version of Popia I've written, but frankly, an angry Popia is a sexy as fuck Popia in my mind, so I hope you enjoy this... 😈

TW/ Themes of jealousy, untrue rumours, domestic arguments, angry sex, possessive sex, creampie, unprotected sex

Reader has female anatomy but only lower genitalia mentioned. Pronouns not used.

MDNI 18+

Copia expected you to be a little more excited at his return, but instead was met with awkward smiles and anxious mannerisms that confused him. This wasn't like you at all...

You avoided the topic, telling him you were simply fine, just tired. But you could barely look him in the eye after what you'd heard...

"Amore, you are avoiding me," he stated, catching you in the ministry kitchen after your duties of the day were complete. Everyone had gone home for the day, the dinner service well and truly over. You'd offered to lock up tonight, indeed avoiding Copia for the third day in a row since he'd arrived back from tour.

"Copia please, it's been a long day and I need to finish cleaning up," you sighed, not bothering to look at him as you lifted the tray of pots and pans that needed cleaning and started to walk away from him towards the industrial sinks in the back.

"You won't even look at me! What did I do?" he asked, exasperated as he followed you. "Were you not happy I came home?"

"Of course I am!" you argued, slamming the tray into the empty sink, pots and pans clattering against each other. Finally, you looked up at him. His brow furrowed in annoyance, his patience at the situation wearing thin.

"Then why are you avoiding me? You barely let me kiss you since I came back, let alone touch you... You seem mad at me, and hell knows why!"

"Oh, come on, Copia! Everyone was wittering about it for the last two weeks! I should have known, it was only a matter of time before you found someone better, and I can't say I blame you but you could have at least told me and broken things off before I had to find out from the whispers in the hallway," you finally exploded, yelling at him about what you'd heard while he'd been away.

According to some of the sisters, someone had seen him going into a hotel with a woman on tour; a younger, prettier woman. The sisters had snickered about it for days, giving you filthy looks of satisfaction when they saw your obvious upset.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, his voice raising as he stepped closer. You shook your head, turning back to the sink and turning on the water for the shower head-style faucet and pouring washing up liquid over the pans.

"You, swanning into a fucking hotel with some prettier woman on your arm," you noisily moved the pots around the sink, coating them in sudsy water.

Copia reached for the faucet and switched the water off to interrupt you, forcing you to look back at him with a look of anger mixed with hurt and devastation.

"Who told you that?"

"Does it matter?" you asked, voice cracking under the weight of sadness.

"Yes, actually. Because when I find the stronzo who fucking lied to you, I'm going to skin them alive." The fury in his face was evident, his chest puffed up as he took deep breaths to keep himself steady. How dare someone make something so vile up?

"W-well you would say that..." you shrugged, actively choosing to ignore the clear signs that he was furious at the rumour and had been chasing you down for three days just to be close to you. Your own insecurities were too loud, telling you his gaze would be redirected the second someone better came along despite knowing he would never do anything to hurt you like that...

"You think I would do that to you? Do you not know how much I love you?" he asked, hurt. You bit your lip, tears flowing as you searched for a response. But you didn't have one...

Copia took a step towards you, his heart aching when you took one back from him as if scared of him. His instincts had him take another step to try and comfort you, but he watched as your back hit the edge of the sink, effectively corning you in.

"I don't know who started that rumour, but I can assure you, they will be dealt with." His tone was dark, matching the expression on his face. You felt almost hunted as he stalked towards you...

"Why would I ever want anybody other than you, amore?" he growled. It ignited something deep inside you, something akin to excitement...

He stepped close enough that you leaned back from him against the sink, his form looming over you as his arms caged you in, gripping the edges of the sink so tight his leather gloves squeaked in protest.

"You are all I have ever wanted, and yet you question my loyalty, tesoro?" he asks, his face hovering barely inches from yours. You couldn't find it in you to be genuinely scared of him, knowing him too well. "Maybe you need reminding just who I belong to, eh?"

"C-Copia... I'm sorry..." you told him, your voice small and quiet, unsure of itself.

"Too late," he growled, lifting one of his hands to grip the side of your neck and pull you close enough to land his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Instinctively, you gripped the edges of his waistcoat to keep yourself steady.

He pressed his body against you, hips meeting yours where you bent backwards over the sink. He let go of the edge, instead hiking your thigh up to his hip to press himself further into you. You could feel him swelling against you, hardening as he deepened the kiss and felt you succumbing to him.

"You doubt my feelings for you, tesoro? You think I would want to fuck anyone other than you, eh?" he asked between kisses, now beginning to trail them down your jawline and neck. "Answer me!"

"N-no..."

He took your hand from his waistcoat, forcing it to grip him through his pants.

"You feel that? Who does that belong to?" he growled against your neck.

"M-me?" you questioned, heat pooling between your legs and butterflies fluttering erratically through your abdomen.

"Take it out, tesoro. Feel how fucking hard you make me..." he ordered. You did as told, unlacing his pants and reaching in to expose his length that sat thick and heavy in your palm. Copia groaned at the touch.

You couldn't help but start to pump his length in your hand, needing him close, needing more of him than you could get right now.

Copia couldn't stand it any longer, needing to claim you back as his, to show you that he belonged to you and you only. He stepped back, wrenching your body with him only to spin you and pin you back against the sinks edge. He lifted your habit over the swell of your ass, dragging your panties down to your knees as you folded in half for him.

"Do you know how often I thought of you on tour, tesoro? How I dreamt of burying myself inside you over and over when i couldn't have you? How many times I cried your name out into the night when no one was around, fucking into my hand because that's all I had?" he admitted shamelessly, dragging his gloved fingers through the wetness between your legs as you moaned in wanton delight.

"Did you miss me too, tesoro?" he asked, slowly pushing two fingers easily inside you, other hand gripping your shoulder to keep you from flopping into the sink at the feeling.

"Y-yes..." you whined. "So much."

You groaned as he curled his fingers inside you, stretching you open and ready for him as he held you still. "This is all I thought about, tesoro... Coming home to you, feeling you clench for me like your pussy is begging for me..."

"Copia please!" you cried, needing him now. "s'all yours, just please... I fucking missed you!"

You felt his fingers retract form inside you, leaving you empty for just a moment as he lined himself up with your heat and slowly started to sink into you.

"You feel that, tesoro?" he asked as he filled you, "All that is yours. Just for you, amore mio... Say it," he ordered.

"S'all mine... You're mine, Copia!" Hearing you claim him as he filled you sent his mind into overdrive, and his hips thrusted violently forwards until he was completely sheathed inside you.

He lost sight of himself then, gripping into your hips tightly while his hips pistoned into you. How badly he'd wanted you for weeks and weeks while he'd been gone, and the torture of you avoiding him since he came home was all too much; all his pent up frustration came out at once, claiming you as he asked you to claim him too.

"C-Copia..." you called to him as he fucked into you, reaching your hand back behind you needing to feel him, to have him hold you. He gripped your hand, threading his fingers through yours and held your arm against your lower back, leaning over you as he pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades.

"I got you, I'm here," he assured breathlessly, keeping his rhythm punishingly harsh.

It didn't take long at all for the coil to wind itself so tight inside you it threatened to snap in an instant. Overwhelmed as you were, your fingers tightened between his while your other hand gripped the edge of the sink. He could feel you clenching around him and knew you were coming to your end. Frankly, he was grateful. He couldn't keep this up much longer, his own orgasm looming...

So he started to talk you through it, almost begging you to remember the effect you had on him, that you were his sole reason for losing his mind.

"O-only you can do this to me, amore. I'm all yours, do you hear me? No one else... Never anyone else," he growled. "Cazzo, cum for me... Please, before I lose my fucking mind..."

You'd never heard him like this before, begging you to accept him as yours, to understand that he belongs to you. It drove you wild, snapping your orgasm into overdrive.

You cried out for him, your limbs tensing and convulsing as you spasmed around him. Copia gave in then, finally allowing himself to cum inside you with a garbled scream of his own. He refused to loosen his grip on you, holding you up from sinking down into the water and filthy pots beneath you.

"A-amore..." he panted, worried by the silence as you came down from your high. "Are you still with me?"

With all the strength you could muster, you straightened up, letting him take a step back and effectively removing himself from you while you both readjusted to conserve some modesty. When you turned around to look at him, propping yourself up on the sink edge again, you saw the worry in his face and instantly wanted to comfort him.

"Come here..." you told him, pulling him gently by his waistcoat again. He stepped into your warmth again, allowing you to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head against his chest. His arms encircled you, holding you tightly to him. "I'm sorry. I let my head win again."

"No, it's okay amore. I don't blame you, I blame the assholes who spread that vile rumour." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, stroking your hair while you breathed him in, finally close and held by the love of your life once again. "I'm taking you with me next time. I cannot bear another tour without you at my side."

You pulled back to look up at him then, surprised and excited at the idea. "Really?"

"Sí, leaving you behind was the only mistake I made."

[pumpkinsy0]

fuck it, more Purly Haitian vacation thoughts:

On the first day, Ponyboy got sunburnt to all hell. Yeah he was made fun of for it, but whatever they gave him wasn't regular aloe, it was better.

Runs out of clean clothes (he didn't have much to pack anyway) so he makes due with the clothes given to him (and insisted he keep and bring to america)

Curly jokes he'd look cute in a karabela. Pony doesn't know what that is and just rolls his eyes.

Sandals! Everyone wears them. Ponyboy watches fondly as Curly's aunt weaves him a pair, asking him if he likes the color purple, which he responds "Wi Matènèl." Just like Curly taught him.

The mornings come early and while Curly would love nothing more than to lay in bed all day with Pony, he does want to wake up early and take him for scooter rides. Ponyboy holds on to him tightly as they weave around corners. Curly is in heaven.

Ponyboy is interested in the literature and art of Haiti and loves the bright colors of the homes. He loves their cheap art galleries and after dinner he's read to in Kreyole first and then English second because he wants to try and learn what stories are being told to him.

Darry has asked him to call if possible. There's only one phone avaliable and it's at "the big house." it costs a lot of money to call but The Shepards don't bat an eye giving him the coins he needs to tell his brother he's okay and what his day was like.

Curly avoids all questions asked to him about family back in America. He can't stomach the thought that his relatives think he's living it up and couldn't be further from the truth.

He hates America. Hates the racism. Hates their stupid laws. He hates how their mother left this beautiful place to chase a man that doesn't give a hang about them.

Curly needs a cigarette. On the porch, he pauses:

Ponyboy is given a pretty red and yellow choublack flower crown (cause it's still the 60s) and is out on the street with a bunch of Curly's younger cousins who ask him to draw on the sidewalks with them. Ponyboy never got the opportunity to be a big brother, so it's all fun and games with him. It's lightly raining, a sunshine shower. Ponyboy is smiling, laughing and singing along to some child's song, slightly butchering the words.

Curly is whipped at the sight.

i JUST woke up to this absolute GEM of an ask im going insane im like a dog with zoomies after a shower another BANGER anon ask about haiti omg

AND AND I WANNA ADD MORE THOUGHTS☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽

•the shepards has family in the countryside of haiti, and they have a fucking donkey and that thing would nibble on ponys shirt everytime he came near and it was ALWAYS him and him alone like dude???fuck of?????

•pony would LOVE ti kawòl (its this ice cream in a bag thing, comes in different flavors) but he likes it when its melted so he literally WAITS till its a liquid again, pokes a hole in the bag and drinks it and curly, tim, angela, and their family think hes so WEIRD for that

•curlys aunt is always making malta ak lèt (just means malta and milk) and its curly, pony, and the younger cousins fault that its always gone within a few days like my god

•theres a good chunk of reptiles in haiti and curly used to spend his time catching the fuckers when he still used to live in haiti, and ik he took pony to the best places he would find em, however outside of that sometimes pony would find them on accident and his body would take a ss

•kite flying is pretty important, i think pony and curly should be allowed to make their own cool looking kite at least once

•tim and curly were def stealing cool looking plates from their aunts and was forcing pony to be apart of it, he was a mess trying to keep it together

•OHOH sometimes they would have to ride tap taps (just look it up im WAY to lazy to explain it) and pony was a bit nervous bc theres rlly no specific individual seats and no seatbelts, so curly would hold onto him to make him feel safer so gay

•pony def accidentally got some mannerisms from his time there, this is more of a “if u get it u get it” thing, but if yknow that look ur haitian elder gives u when they catch u doin some stupid shit and they just stand there w their hands crossed???yea pony started doing that LMAOOO

•angela made pony this bracelet w seashells, she was makin em w her fav aunt :3

•the whole family went to the beach and curly hit pony w a wet sandbl and IMMEDIATELY fell and got a cut on his knee by a seashell and i promise u, when there was a collective sound of “gade” (means look in creole) in a ‘well thats your karma’ way, i mean it

•pony and curly both have to share a place on the couch to sleep on so they r just all up on each other by the time 4am rolls around

•curly has this scarf thats used in haitian folklore dances and he is NOT using it to dance, hes using it to pull pony in by the neck or hips, i can feel it trust me on this

•one of the shepards family members is a snack vendor, like the kinds w the snack cart right outside schools, and they would always get free snacks, in return they helped w the homemade snacks they sold, but that goes as well as it can w pony and curly making food, they r NOT allowed to make fresco again

•curly would climb treats for fruits pony wanted he def would

•pony brought the gang lil souvenirs :P

[callsignfangs]

The 141 boys as widowers. (bc i feel like torturing myself /j)

141 x late (implied) spouse! reader

cws: grief, mentions of loss, implied alcoholism/alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions self-destructive behaviour, very brief mention of addiction, etc (Please lmk if I've missed anything!)

(Note: This little drabble is a little self indulgent, a bit about my own journey with grief. Each little 'story' thing does end with acceptance. Please don't read if you're not in the right headspace, and remember that you're loved and you're not alone, and make sure to reach out if you need help <3)

--

Price is the one inclined to bargaining. Maybe he could've done something - what if he'd taken a bit more time off work, what if he spent more time with you, what if he'd agreed to retire early with you, what if he was there? Ironically enough - he just ends up drowning himself in more work, probably turns to smoking or alcohol in an attempt to drown everything out.

141, Gaz and Soap especially, will definitely be the only thing he holds on for. As capable as they all are, he couldn't just up and leave his boys without a captain - he couldn't make the same mistake over again, they gave him something to care for, to nurture and to look after.

I don't think he'll ever marry again - just making half-hearted attempts to peek into the dating scene whenever leave got especially lonely. He'd never be able to find anyone quite like you, so he eventually stopped bothering with it, finding warmth and comfort in himself and the other people he loved.

He keeps a photo of you, one of your handwritten notes, and any little trinket you'd given him at all times. Saved every single snippet of you talking he could - even still paying off your phone bill occasionally ringing your phone to hear your voicemail message, maybe sending you texts when things got especially hard. Definitely does chores the exact way you always did - from the time you went out to shop in the morning to how you stacked dishes. Loves hot showers but still takes a lukewarm one each morning because your habit of taking cold showers meant the water was never hot enough for him. I think he probably adopts something after the rough edges of the hole you'd left in his heart smoothed over.

It wasn't intentional in the slightest - maybe a stray cat had clung to his pant leg while he was on a hike or the task force managed to pick up an orphaned little kid on one of their excursions. He's very hesitant with them, still not quite trusting himself with caring for another being. But he warms up to them eventually. No matter human or animal, they've definitely been brought to your gravesite once or twice.

Maybe it would be alright, eventually. He'd at least have something interesting to entertain you with the next life he found you.

--

Soap is definitely in denial. Convinces himself it's a mistake - that when deployment's finally over, he'll trudge home, kick off his boots, and be met by his sweet love, bouncing at his heels like an overeager puppy and lathering his face in flittering little kisses. He still avoids coming home like the plague - resorts to anything from taking on way too many missions, to picking up another job on the side, even to staying in hotels as if he was in some sort of covert op.

He'd be forced to go back to your house eventually, though. Not home, it wasn't home without you there. Just the same four walls and roof he camped out in on deployment. Nothing warm or special about it.

He still pretended, though. Made your bed every morning the way you liked it and prepared meals for two every day.

While Price and Ghost undoubtedly pulled him out of his slump, Gaz was the person who really started him on the road to acceptance. Having the boys over near constantly was soothing, giving him something to occupy his mind with and overshadowing the cold emptiness of the house. The occasional cuddle piles and game nights reminded him of the warmth of their bond - like the nights they spent on stakeouts, letting their own sweet joy shield them from the brutal realities of their situation.

Gaz was the first person he cried to. Soap couldn't bear the way his buzzed sides were starting to fluff out, but he'd slowly gotten used to letting your gentle hands preen him and tidy him up. Of course, Gaz had noticed, and of course, he'd insisted that Soap just had to let him have a go at doing up someone else's hair. Soap didn't know when he'd devolved into tears - somewhere between the first gentle touch he'd felt in weeks and the crippling realisation that you'd never be there to do it again.

Either way, he'd managed to cry himself to sleep in Gaz's arms that night. He continued to sob himself away for weeks, filling each day with tears.

Until each day turned into each few.

And each few turned into once a week.

And slowly, his tears dried up.

It was an arduous process, grieving. But he stubbornly forced through it, just as he'd forced his way into your heart.

And he did his very best not to change. He determinedly kept the mohawk - even used the same shampoo because it made his hair feel perfectly fluffy under your touch. He did his best to continue being his perky, bubbly self, because he knew how you practically basked in his energy.

However, he still let himself grow, let his hawk grow out so he could braid it the way he'd always considered, and he let himself have his bad days, didn't force himself to keep up his energy when he didn't really have enough.

Admittedly, though, he never married again. He found temporary enjoyment in little flings, though he let them pass when the time was right. No matter what, he always came back to your house.

Sure, it wasn't quite home without you there. But you'd been there - no matter how little the time you'd had together felt in hindsight - so maybe he could learn to make it home again. For you.

--

Gaz is angry - furious to the point of enraged tears. If it was him? He'd understand. He'd hurt people, torn apart lives and taken his fair share of them. He deserved it. But you? It wasn't fair. In his eyes, you couldn't possibly hurt a fly, so delicate and tender and so, so soft. It just wasn't fair.

His attempt at coping is to delve headfirst into a tedious slew of missions - one after another after another. It gives him something to dump all his blind rage and hurt and desperation into. His morals were a writhing, flailing, unrecognisable mess for a long time, and the best comfort he could find was in the chaotic monotony of work.

So what if he burned everything in his path to ash? At least the threat was dealt with.

Price and Ghost are the most essential to his recovery. He needs guidance, needs some sort of structure, and needs to relinquish the tight hold on his need to be good, to fix things, to help, to finally restore what he was so reliant on, even if that meant tearing himself to shreds in the process. What he needs is time to grieve, time to come to terms with the unforgiving reality - that it just happened. No-one did anything wrong, there was no violence or intent, it just happened.

He'll absolutely come to deeply regret everything he did in his grief-induced warpath, but eventually accept that he was hurt and lost and just needed the help - the intervention.

Like Price, I think he might attempt to put himself out there and find someone new every once in a while, maybe even builds up to a couple dates, but he never really finds interest in anyone. He definitely remains friends with many of the people he meets, but he just can't quite find a spark - mainly because they're not you.

He never throws out anything of yours, his wardrobe is still mostly full of random articles of your clothing, and the third drawer on the nightstand is still yours.

He always wears something of yours when he goes out, from shirts and shorts to hoodies, even some of your jewelry.

Despite it being admittedly pretty late, he finally watches all of the shows you liked and reads all the books you did. It makes him feel closer to you - cuddling up under your favourite blanket in your favourite spot and picturing you being there with him, imagining each and every one of your reactions, practically seeing your lovely face curl with smiles as you commentated over the whole thing.

Sure, you weren't really there with him anymore, but the sweet, warm mark you'd left on his heart was enough to carry him over until he inevitably returned to you.

--

Ghost is mostly depressed. He's so agonisingly hurt and lost, but you were his sun - what gave him life and love, and without you? He just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything beyond simply existing. Even he'd expected himself to crash and burn - follow in his brother's footsteps and drown in a spiral of addiction. But he just... Didn't. The affirmation that he didn't blow up and take everyone he loved down with him would be reassuring, comforting, but it wasn't. Not without you whispering praise in his ear, assuring him of his goodness and softness.

I think he'd also be reliant on Soap and Gaz, but Price would be a surprisingly big factor as well. No-one could ever really replicate the effect you had on him, the way your encouragement kept him going, but having some amount of structure, of motivation? It helped. Despite that, he absolutely tried to push them out at first, convinced that the acrid shadow of death looming over his shoulder would eventually take them as well. What are task force 141 if not determined and unfathomably stubborn, though, especially when it came to caring for their own.

Soap undoubtedly led the charge - seeing as his ceaseless energy and affection were mildly more normal (god knows Simon needed a little bit of comforting normalcy). Gaz came second, still snarky and headstrong as ever, but with softened edges and an air of gentle care. Price was last. He'd been there before Simon was Ghost, he was aware enough to piece bits of his past together - and he'd be damned if he managed to scare Simon, if he was the reason he regressed further. So he was tender. Delicate, even. Ghost would despise being handled like fragile porcelain in Price's kid gloves, but it soothed a part of Simon that hadn't peeked out since you left.

It'll take a bit longer than the others - more therapy, reassurance and care, but he'll recover eventually, let the wound you left in his porous heart scar over and go on as best he could.

I don't think he'll look for romance again either - his interest in it just died out alongside you. He wants to preserve the sanctity and tenderness of what you had, and is more than content with holding that love in his heart, and keeping it safe for you until he meets you again.

After you're gone, he attempts to follow your advice more, occasionally dragging himself out of his comfort zone, picking up new hobbies and trying to emulate your passion for life in himself, keeping a little bit of you alive with him. He absolutely douses the house in your favourite fragrance, refuses to use any hygiene products other than yours and carries something of yours everywhere, whether it be your ring or even your purse, just something to remind him he had to look after things (including himself) for you.

Even if you were cremated or buried in some other way, he'd ensure there was a gravestone for you placed alongside his mother, Tommy, Beth and little Joseph. You'd always be part of his family - his heart, and when his time came? He'd be buried alongside you, trailing along with you into whatever came next. By your side forever.

<3

Yippee. This was. A journey. /lh

Sorry if this isn't formatted the best, it was more of a massive brain dump that I forcibly shoved into something just about understandable lol

If you're seeing this, tyvm for reading mwah 😚😚

[sicknessbysalem]

Do you still write for simplysickness characters? Could you please write something for Lex and Soren? Really miss them… 💜

Something with a lot of comfort

i don't know if you're still around since this has been in my ask box for a long time. let me explain: i have been avoiding this ask literally because i got spooked about people coming at me for 'stealing' characters even though @simplysickness themself gave me these character to continue them once they moved on with their current job. so long story short I got too stressed to write this but i think i'm good now.

not sure if sparrow had ever posted fics centric to it, but in the canon lore of lex and soren, lex quit music and was able to work as an emt which he thoroughly enjoys. (also the canon lex and soren lore has been worked by me and sparrow for a long time)

since you asked for comfort, let's do it! if you have anymore requests, comments, questions, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, migraines, nausea, overwork

Lex stumbled through the door of their shared apartment, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. His uniform was wrinkled, stained with the remnants of a long shift that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The familiar scent of home—faint traces of Soren's cologne mixed with the lingering aroma of morning coffee—welcomed him, but the usual comfort it provided felt distant, unreachable.

The dull throb that had started behind his eyes hours ago had escalated into a full-blown migraine, each heartbeat pounding against his skull like a relentless drum. He could feel the exhaustion in his bones, a fatigue that went beyond just needing sleep. Something deeper was wrong, but the last thing he wanted was to concern Soren with it. Not now, not when Soren had his own day ahead of him.

“Hey, babe,” Soren’s voice floated in from the kitchen, light and warm. Lex could hear the sound of dishes being put away, the soft clinking of plates against one another. “Just got done with breakfast. Do you want anything?”

"Not yet, no," Lex said, undoing the braid that was already half falling out the rest of the way, "I need to take a shower and get out of this uniform."

"Tell you what," Soren said, "You do that, and I'll make you some lavender tea and something to eat."

Lex winced, the thought of eating, or drinking for that matter, anything making his already queasy stomach twist in protest. He pushed a weary smile onto his face as he dropped his keys on the entry table and forced himself to respond. “Sure, fine."

Soren smiled, "I'd kiss you but I don't want anything you have on you from work."

"I would probably push you off if you tried," Lex said, "I'll be back in like fifteen."

For as tired as he was, Lex was quick to grab something to change into and start the water, letting it heat up as he stripped off his uniform. He'd take care of washing it later, for now he stepped into the bathroom, the cool tile under his feet grounding him slightly as he leaned heavily against the sink. The mirror reflected his tired eyes, the dark circles underneath them more pronounced than ever. He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. Every movement felt like it required twice the effort it should and he hated it.

As the water cascaded down, hot enough to almost sting, he hoped it would wash away some of the tension knotting his muscles, the ache in his head, and the bone-deep fatigue that clung to him like a second skin.

But as he stood under the stream, head bowed, the migraine only seemed to intensify, the heat doing nothing to ease the relentless pounding. He clenched his teeth, trying to will away the pain, but it was like trying to hold back the tide. The water wasn’t helping; it was only making him feel worse, the heat adding to his nausea. He quickly shut off the shower, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped out. He dried off as quick as he could, pulling on a t-shirt and some joggers.

For as much as he wanted to just go back to bed, that would make Soren worried. Soren was stressed, meaning he had somewhere to go. Lex wasn't going to stress Soren out, not more than necessary.

Lex tried to brush through his wet hair, grimacing as another sharp wave of pain lanced through his skull. He needed to pull it together, at least until Soren left. He finished brushing, by now the pain making his hands shake. He put his hair in a loose braid as he walked back to the kitchen.

The smell of lavender greeted him, and he saw Soren placing a steaming mug on the table, along with a small plate of toast. The simple gesture was filled with care, and Lex’s heart ached with guilt for not being able to appreciate it more fully.

Soren looked up as Lex entered, his eyes immediately narrowing in concern. “You okay, Lex? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Lex forced a small smile, waving off the concern. “Just tired, you know how it is. Long shift. But I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

Soren wasn’t convinced; Lex could tell by the way his boyfriend’s gaze lingered on him, the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly. But Soren had learned to pick his battles, especially when it came to Lex’s stubbornness.

Instead of pushing, Soren simply nodded and gestured to the tea. “Well, drink up. It’ll help you relax.”

Lex gingerly took the mug, cradling it between his hands, letting the warmth seep into his palms. He took a tentative sip, the fragrant tea soothing his throat but doing little for the churning in his stomach. He set it down after just one sip, hoping Soren wouldn’t notice.

“So, you heading out soon?” Lex asked, trying to sound casual as he leaned against the counter, the cool surface a small relief against his heated skin.

“Yeah,” Soren replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Ksenia and I have that recording session, but I should be back by late afternoon. Are you sure you don’t need anything before I go? I can call and reschedule if you’re—”

“No,” Lex cut in, a bit too quickly. “I’ll be fine, Soren. You’ve got your own stuff to handle. Don’t worry about me.”

Soren’s eyes softened, a mix of love and worry shining in them as he stepped closer, resting a hand on Lex’s arm. “I always worry about you, you know that, right?”

Lex’s resolve wavered for a moment, the urge to just let Soren take care of him, to admit how much he was struggling, almost breaking through. But he couldn’t. Not when Soren had so much on his plate already. Lex mustered another smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Soren’s cheek.

“I know,” he whispered. “And I love you for it. But seriously, I just need some rest. I’ll be good as new by the time you’re back. Literally as soon as you walk out that door I will absolutely be sleeping."

Soren hesitated, his hand lingering on Lex’s arm before he finally nodded, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Okay. But if you need anything, call me. Promise?”

“Promise,” Lex replied, hoping the smile he offered was convincing enough.

Soren sighed, clearly not fully satisfied, but he knew better than to push Lex when he was like this. He walked over and kissed Lex's cheek, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

Lex watched as Soren grabbed his things and headed for the door, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the now silent apartment. The moment he was alone, Lex’s facade crumbled. He slumped into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands as the migraine pounded mercilessly against his skull, and a wave of dizziness made the room spin.

Lex sat in the chair, trying to steady his breathing as the relentless pounding in his head sent sharp jolts of pain through his temples. The room felt like it was spinning ever so slightly, a disorienting, subtle tilt that made him grip the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, trying to suppress the growing nausea that gnawed at his stomach.

His migraine had progressed quickly, the dull throb from earlier now a vicious, stabbing pain that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Every sound, even the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, grated against his senses, amplifying the pain. The dim light filtering through the curtains felt too bright, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the world and focus on anything other than the turmoil inside his body.

But the vertigo wasn’t something he could ignore. It was as if the ground beneath him was shifting, tilting, and spinning all at once, making every movement feel like an uphill battle against gravity. Lex had dealt with migraines like this before—too many times, really—but that didn’t make it any easier. The nausea that accompanied the dizziness was creeping up on him, a sickening wave that rose higher with each passing minute. He needed to get to bed, to lie down somewhere more comfortable, but the thought of standing up and moving was daunting.

Lex took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and slowly pushed up from the chair. The moment he was upright, the room tilted violently, and his stomach lurched in protest. He paused, gripping the edge of the table, closing his eyes against the spinning sensation that threatened to knock him off balance. Nausea twisted his gut, and he fought the urge to retch, knowing that any sudden movement would only make it worse.

Theoretically he could lay on the couch, but his bedroom was darker, specifically for this reason. And the couch wasn't the most comfortable. If it was this bad, Lex wanted to do what he could to be even slightly more comfortable.

Gritting his teeth, Lex forced one foot in front of the other, his movements slow and deliberate as he made his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. The walls seemed to close in on him, the world narrowing to the few feet in front of him as he concentrated on just getting to his bed. But as he reached the doorway, another wave of vertigo hit him hard, sending him stumbling forward.

He barely made it into the room before his body was ready to give in. Lex could feel he either had the choice to lay down now or probably end up vomiting all over his sheets. The floor seemed like the better option.

He collapsed to the floor, the cool wood against his cheek a small mercy. He lay there, breathing heavily, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to regain some semblance of control. The dizziness was worse now, making his stomach roil, and he knew if he moved again, he wouldn’t be able to stop the inevitable.

The choice was simple, but neither option was appealing: he could stay on the floor and hope the nausea passed, or he could risk getting to the bathroom and throwing up. But even the thought of moving made the bile rise in his throat, so he stayed where he was, too exhausted to do anything else. The pain in his head had reached a crescendo, a throbbing, searing agony that made him feel like his skull was going to split open.

Time blurred as he lay there, the minutes stretching into an eternity as he battled the pain and nausea. His body felt heavy, every muscle aching from the tension he couldn’t release. He didn’t know how long he had been lying on the floor, but it felt like hours. Maybe he dozed off, maybe he didn't.

The sound of the front door opening barely registered in his foggy mind. It wasn’t until he heard Soren’s footsteps approaching that he realized Soren had come home. The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Soren’s concerned voice cut through the haze.

“Lex?”

Lex didn’t have the energy to respond, but he heard the soft sigh of understanding from Soren as he stepped into the room, his presence a comforting, familiar anchor in the chaos of Lex’s mind.

“There you are,” Soren said, “Why are you on the floor?"

"Well, the floor needed a hug," Lex said sarcastically, "Plus it was between puking my guts out and laying down immediately, so it was a win-win honestly."

Soren sat on the floor next to him, "Bad one, huh? How many hours have you worked this week?”

Lex managed a weak nod, not trusting himself to speak without setting off his already churning stomach.

"Five shifts," Lex forced to answer the question.

Soren placed a cool hand on his forehead. The touch was soothing, grounding him just enough to focus on something other than the pain.

“Alright,” Soren said softly, “just stay where you are. I’ll get you some water and a cold pack.”

Lex barely registered Soren leaving the room, his mind too fogged by the migraine to process much of anything. The nausea was getting worse, and even lying still wasn’t helping anymore. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to vomit, knowing it was a losing battle. But before he could spiral further, Soren was back, his calm presence and soft voice cutting through the noise in Lex’s head.

“Here,” Soren said, helping him shift just enough to place the cold pack against the back of his neck. “This should help with the nausea. Just breathe, okay?”

Lex focused on Soren’s voice, the coolness of the pack, and the steady rhythm of his own breathing. It was all he could do to hold on as the migraine continued to wreak havoc on his senses. He didn’t have to say anything for Soren to know how much he was struggling; Soren knew him too well for that.

“Take it easy, Lex,” Soren murmured, sitting down beside him, his hand still resting gently on Lex’s back. “I’m here now. Just rest.”

Lex let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body easing just slightly at Soren’s reassurance. He didn’t have to fight this alone, not with Soren by his side. And as the nausea continued to churn in his gut and the migraine pounded in his skull, he held on to that one small comfort—the knowledge that Soren was there, and he didn’t have to face this pain alone.

“Here,” Soren said, “Let’s get you to bed?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lex nodded slowly.

Soren carefully helped Lex shift from the floor to the bed, moving slowly and with as much gentleness as he could muster. He knew that any sudden motion would only make things worse for Lex, whose body was already betraying him with a migraine that had escalated to a point of pure agony.

The bed was a relief, at least more comfortable than the hard floor, but Lex’s relief was fleeting. As he lay there, Soren’s presence a steady comfort beside him, the nausea refused to subside, growing stronger with each passing minute.

Soren sat next to Lex, brushing a stray lock of damp hair from his forehead before rubbing his hand along his upper back and shoulder. “You’re alright, Lex. Just try to rest. I’m right here.”

Lex nodded weakly, though resting was easier said than done. The room continued to spin, a nauseating whirl that made his stomach churn violently. He tried to focus on Soren’s voice, on the coolness of the pillow beneath his head, Soren moved the cool pack to rest better on his head, but his body wasn’t listening. The nausea was rising, a relentless wave that he could no longer suppress.

A low groan escaped Lex’s lips as he clutched his stomach, the pain in his head intensifying with every attempt to stay still. He knew what was coming, and he hated it—hated the helplessness that came with being so sick, the feeling of losing control over his own body.

His breath hitched as his stomach twisted, and he instinctively rolled onto his side, his hands trembling as he tried to prepare himself for the inevitable.

Soren was immediately alert, noticing the shift in Lex’s body language. “Lex, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Lex barely heard him, too focused on trying to hold back the wave of nausea that was threatening to overtake him. But it was too much; his body was too overwhelmed, too worn down by the migraine that had pushed him past his limits. He gagged, his body convulsing as the nausea hit its peak, and before he could stop himself, he was retching, the force of it making his entire body seize up.

Soren was right there, his hands gentle but firm as he reached for Lex’s hair, carefully pulling the loose braid away from his face, holding it back so it wouldn’t get in the way. Lex realized at some point Soren must’ve grabbed the trash can by his desk.

“Easy, Lex,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing even as his heart ached for what Lex was going through. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

Lex could only cling to the bed as his body gave in, vomiting violently, the migraine amplifying every sensation—the taste, the sound, the pain that shot through his head with each heave. It felt like an eternity before the wave of sickness passed, leaving him breathless and trembling, his body weak and spent.

Soren’s hand was still on his back and Lex was thankful for it and aggravated by it at the same time. Everything was too much. The waves of vomiting—another one coming up, he was sure out of spite the second he thought about it—, the taste, the sound, the feelings of everything all at once.

Soren offered him a small sip of water to rinse out the taste when it was all said and done.

“Just a little,” Soren coaxed, holding the glass steady as Lex managed a tiny sip, his hands still shaking.

Lex leaned back against the pillows, too exhausted to do anything but close his eyes and try to breathe.

The nausea had eased somewhat, but the migraine was still there, a brutal, unrelenting force that kept him trapped in misery. But now, there was something else—a warmth that had been creeping up on him, something he hadn’t noticed until Soren’s cool hand brushed against his forehead, surely trying to push more hair out of Lex’s face.

Soren’s brow furrowed as he felt the heat radiating from Lex’s skin. He had initially thought the warmth was from the strain of being sick, but now, he realized it was more than that.

Lex felt Soren’s hand which felt cool touch both his cheeks and his neck. It was a relieving touch, easing everything for a moment.

“How long have you had that fever?” Soren asked, “Since you got home?”

“Fever..? No, I couldn’t have. They check us when we come in…” Lex said, “I’m just exhausted into a migraine, I don’t—“

“Lex, you’re burning up,” Soren said softly, concern lacing his voice as he placed the back of his hand against Lex’s cheek, confirming what he already knew.

Lex opened his eyes, bleary and unfocused, and managed a small, weak shrug. “Just… a little overheated. It’s nothing.”

But Soren wasn’t convinced. He could see the flush in Lex’s cheeks, the way his skin was damp with sweat, and the fevered glaze in his eyes. “Lex, this isn’t just overheating. You’re sick, more than just the migraine. I think you might have a fever.”

Lex groaned, not in pain but in frustration. The last thing he wanted was to be more of a burden, especially when he knew how much Soren already worried about him. But even as he tried to brush it off, he couldn’t ignore the heaviness in his limbs, the way his body ached in a way that went beyond just fatigue. “Maybe… maybe a little,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Soren sighed, his concern deepening. “Okay, we need to get you comfortable. Let’s see if we can bring that fever down.”

He moved with quiet efficiency, heading to the bathroom to grab a cool, damp washcloth. He returned and gently pressed it to Lex’s forehead, the coolness providing a small bit of relief.

“Just relax,” Soren murmured, sitting beside Lex and stroking his hair with one hand while keeping the washcloth in place with the other. “You’re going to be okay.”

Lex didn’t have the strength to argue or to hide how awful he felt. He let his eyes close again, focusing on the cool touch of the cloth and the comforting presence of Soren beside him. The pain in his head was still unbearable, the nausea lingering just below the surface, but there was some solace in knowing that Soren was there, that he wasn’t alone in this.

Time seemed to stretch and blur as Lex drifted in and out of a restless half-sleep, the migraine and fever battling for dominance in his already worn-out body.

“You know, for an emergency medical technician, you’re a real idiot,” Soren said, offering an affectionate smile.

“Yeah, well,” Lex said, “I’m your idiot.”

[camaro-and-smokes]

Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car

Tags for this chapter: hey some more angst, a guy who may look like Jason Carver but isn't him / Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜

Summary: Billy tries to connect with his date and Steve tries to work his way through and past his emotions.

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

The water hitting Billy's back from the showerhead was hot, making him hiss at the first contact. His back was killing him, he'd probably lifted something at work with his back and then done a movement wrong in the aerobics class. Hot shower was the quickest relief for the pain since he didn't want to be aching throughout the date he'd have later tonight.

Jason, his date, was one of the few men who came to his aerobics classes at the dance studio, and a successful real estate agent. So much so that even when Billy and Rob hadn't yet totally fallen apart, when the other instructors at the studio heard Jason had asked him on a date, all of them had told him to dump Rob. Yes, Jason was good looking with his blue eyes, great physique and a million-dollar smile. He looked like a sculpture in his aerobics gear and Billy wouldn't deny it; he'd been shamelessly looking.

They'd talked here and there around the classes and now that Rob was gone and all his unrequited feelings for Steve were becoming too much, Billy had finally agreed to Jason's open invitation for a date.

He was flattered by the attention Jason was giving him, encouraging words about the workouts, always something nice to say about his looks—and Jason had even waited until he was finally willing to try dating again. He just didn't exactly know what could a car mechanic and a real estate agent would have in common. But he hoped that if nothing else, this date would open him up a little to new possibilities and give him new things to think about.

Because last night and how it ended had occupied his thoughts the whole day.

Steve had slipped out the door in the morning before Billy could say half a word to him and ask about why he suddenly called it a night after he’d told him about the date. And why he suddenly behaved so differently, and fuck, he would've wanted to ask about the panties, too. He'd tried to avoid that discussion on purpose, but now it seemed impossible not to talk it through.

Billy still felt like shit when he thought about how the expression on Steve's face had fallen at his announcement of the date. He'd thought that Steve would be supportive of him finally moving on. His first thought had been that Steve was angry and worried about having to find a new place to stay—but it didn't fit. The whole time Steve had been living with him, he'd been telling him to get out there and date again. But apparently it wasn't as straightforward when the moment itself arrived.

He let out a sigh when the water started to cool, telling him he'd spent all the hot water. The bathroom was full of steam when he turned the shower off and reached for the towel on the hook, stepping out of the shower. He stood in front of the mirror and wiped the steam from it, looking at his reflection. Even though he should be happy about the date, that someone was interested in him, he couldn't help but to feel a little sad, too.

Jason wasn't who he would've wanted to go on a date with right now. But he was the second best right option, and that had to do.

:::

The humming of the lights and the clock ticking on the wall were the only sounds in Steve's tiny office. The clock was relentlessly ticking towards seven when Steve glanced at it.

He was alone, save for the looming stacks of paper and the pitch for a marketing plan for the second quarter that laid on the desk unfinished.

With a weary sigh, he leaned back in his chair and reached for the phone, dialing the familiar number that connected him to Chicago.

“Hey, Steve. How's work?” Robin's voice came through the line as a familiar slight echo of a long-distance call.

“Hey, Rob,” Steve said, forcing out a chuckle. “Ever thought of a career as a medium?”

“Nah, this was on you. You never call me around this time on a Tuesday evening.”

It was true. Steve never called her at this time because he knew she had a book club or something like that then. “What if this is my new time to call?” he asked. “You told me I could call whenever. And I thought that I'd call just to see if you'd pick up.”

“Okay, fine. Be glad there's a tough flu bug doing rounds, so the book club was canceled. So, what are you still doing at work? Avoiding going home?” she asked.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted, swirling his pen between his fingers. “It's quieter here.”

“As in, it's quieter inside your head when you're there or it's quieter there, so you have plenty of time and space to think about your feelings?”

Steve felt a tinge of pain in his chest. “He's going on a date tonight.”

“Oh.”

“We had a really nice evening yesterday,” Steve said, realizing that he needed to tell her about it. “I felt that for the first time we really connected, you know. And then he dropped the bomb on me.”

“Ouch. I'm sorry.”

“I guess I just thought that there wasn't anyone... Sure, I told him he should date and that I'd stay away from his way if he ever brought someone home. But that was before. It hit like a ton of bricks.”

“Okay, let's unwrap it. Is it a first date or...”

“He said that it's their first one.”

“Okay, so, it's probably then yet not that far, right?”

“I guess...”

“Steve,” she said calmly, “It's just a date. You know how that is; it might lead nowhere. But I guess now you have to figure out what you want quicker than what I suggested. If someone wants to go on a date with him, and especially if he then, too, wants to see them again...”

“Yeah, I know, I know! It's just... What if I tell him? What then? If he doesn't like me back, then we can't be roommates anymore, I couldn't look him in the eyes after that. And I can't just tell him 'Hey, don't start dating yet, just in case, I'm not sure, but I think I might have feelings for you'.”

“No one said it would be easy,” Robin tried to comfort him. “I wish I could tell you what to do, how to solve this. But it's your life. You need to do the heavy lifting yourself. All I can say is the same as yesterday: figure it out. But just remember: some doors open only once. Don't hesitate too long.”

“I guess,” Steve sighed.

“Go home, Steve. That's where you should be figuring this out, not at work.”

When Steve turned the BMW on their street, he saw from already far away that the Camaro was still parked in front of the bungalow. He'd hoped he could've avoided seeing Billy, but lady luck was not in his favor today.

After he parked the car, he sat there for a moment before getting up, thinking. Knowing Billy was going on a date with someone else hurt. Steve honestly didn't know what to make of it. He had just learned something about himself, and the guy who gave him that awakening was someone who was not on the top of Steve's list of people he'd like to have a relationship with. Well, okay, if he was brutally honest—like he'd now would have to be, at least to himself if no one else—he hadn't thought like that. In truth, he just hadn't known Billy that well.

The troubled teenager who was always an inch away from biting Steve's head off had grown into a surfer who got up before the sun in the morning to surf or for a run on the beach, who loved the sea and its creatures, and who could talk endlessly about how bad importing stuff from overseas was or how important it was for the entire globe to take better care of the oceans. For Billy, fixing cars and teaching aerobics classes was just a means to get by. What he really wanted was to set up his own board shop and maybe make some custom boards.

Steve had seen some of Billy's designs, and while he himself knew nothing about boards, he'd been listening to Billy talk with his surfer buddies and spying his surf magazines that were all around the bungalow. Billy seemed to know what he was talking about, and maybe Steve had amused himself by thinking how to market custom made boards and to whom...

Looks were one thing, and being comfortably in the same place in total silence without the need to fill it with idle chatter was another, and then there were the avenues Steve hadn't yet even thought about more than counting the parts that caused his awakening—ones that tickled his abdomen every time he thought about them.

He hadn't expected that Billy really wasn't at all how he'd been in high school. And it was... difficult. If he'd still been the asshole he was back then, it would've been much easier for Steve to brush off the feelings he was now having as something generated by the fact that he just hadn’t gotten laid in months. Though, if that had been the case, he probably wouldn't have had these feelings in the first place.

The problem was that he didn't know what he exactly wanted. Like he'd told Robin, he couldn't ask Billy to wait just because he thought he had feelings. This might as well be just the door opener for this new side of him and turn out to be nothing more after a while.

But Robin was right. Some doors opened just once, and they didn't remain open forever.

:::

Billy was choosing what to wear when he heard Steve walking in. He pulled a black shirt from the closet with him and buttoned it up as he walked into the living room. He was surprised to see Steve look weary. “Rough day at work?”

Steve glanced at him quickly as he walked towards his room. “Something like that.”

“I was hoping you'd come earlier.”

Steve stopped by the door and turned to look at him. “Why?”

Billy shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe we could've talked about yesterday?”

Steve looked back at his room. “What's there to talk?” He glanced back at Billy before speaking again—and Billy was sure sadness flashed on Steve’s face before a brave smile spread across it. “It was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

Billy smiled. “Yeah, it was fun.” Then he turned serious. “I just don't know what made you end it so abruptly.”

Steve rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I was just tired, that's all.”

Billy looked at Steve for a moment, pondering whether to believe Steve's words or not. “You sure?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve replied, again with a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

Yeah, Billy didn't believe Steve. But he didn't want to push it either, though. “Right. Okay.”

Steve glanced at his wristwatch. “Shouldn't you be on your way?”

Billy looked at his own watch. It was ten to eight, and he was supposed to meet Jason at eight. “Shit! Yeah, I should.”

“You two have fun,” Steve said as we walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

“I'll try,” Billy said under his breath as he stared at the closed door.

:::

When Steve heard the front door closing five minutes later, he took a deep breath. It had been harder to see Billy than what he'd imagined. He'd looked great, all primped up and having that new cologne on he'd bought a few weeks back. The one he'd been concerned about if it was too much and asked Steve to be the judge of. It was very Billy-esc scent, masculine and yet not too much—and of course, now that scent wafting all over the house made everything worse. Steve wondered for a brief moment if Billy was wearing something extra underneath his clothes, if he'd go to the date's place afterwards and let them see what it was.

Or worse; if he'd bring the date here. Steve hoped he wouldn't.

:::

Le Petite Bouchée was lit by dim chandeliers and candles on each table, casting a warm glow on the patrons that murmured under the soft timbre of old-time jazz. The small, charming restaurant was nestled in the heart of San Diego’s Gaslamp Quarter, a perfect setting for Billy to get his mind off, well, everything.

He sat alone, perched awkwardly on the edge of his chair. The nervous energy in his body caused him to fidget incessantly with the silverware before him, his fingers tapping out an erratically against the white linen tablecloth. He scanned the full space between quick glances at his watch and the door. He'd been late, but so was Jason, and even more than him.

"Can I get you anything while you wait, sir?" a waiter with a polite smile inquired, breaking Billy's cycle of anxious anticipation.

"Ah, no thanks. I'm good. Just waiting for someone," Billy replied, his voice steadier than he felt.

"Of course, sir. Just signal when you're ready."

As the waiter drifted away, Billy's gaze returned to the entrance, where patrons entered beneath the glow of the restaurant's sign. He didn't like what Jason being late might mean for the future. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to still the restlessness inside him.

Then, like a scene from a movie, Jason appeared through the door. There was something special about the way he moved that caught Billy's eye. He watched, spellbound, as Jason walked towards him with a warm smile that lit up his face.

Jason's hair, a stylish Ceasar crop, hinted at a meticulous nature, and his clothes—without a doubt an expensive suit and tailor-made shirt—spoke of the effort put forth for this encounter. His stride was confident, yet there was a softness in his eyes that reached across the room and wrapped around Billy.

“Hey there,” Jason greeted, his voice smooth and inviting as he approached the table. “Sorry that I kept you waiting. Parking was a nightmare.”

“Hey, no worries," Billy managed, standing to greet him. A handshake felt too formal, a hug too presumptuous, so they settled somewhere in between—a casual clasp of shoulders that lingered just a moment too long. “I've only been here a few minutes myself.”

“Good, good,” Jason chuckled, easing into the seat opposite Billy. “I wouldn't want you to think I'm not punctual.”

“Never crossed my mind,” Billy lied smoothly, the tension in his shoulders unwinding ever so slightly. With Jason now present, the atmosphere of the restaurant seemed less daunting, the music softer, and the voices of other diners a distant murmur.

“This seems a nice place,” Jason commented, taking in their surroundings with an appreciative glance.

“Yeah, I thought we might enjoy the vibe here,” Billy said, hoping his choice would impress. “It's got that... I don't know, kind of timeless feel to it.”

“Timeless is right,” Jason agreed with a nod. “Feels like we could be in any decade.”

“Exactly,” Billy said, feeling a hopeful spark ignite within him. Perhaps, he mused, the evening could still unfold in the way he had hoped.

As they examined the menu, Billy glanced at Jason, regarding him. The candlelight cast a golden glow on the table and the menu cut it with stark shadows on Jason's face. Jason was almost Billy's type: well built, took care of himself, had a proper income, all the basics covered. But Billy knew nothing about who Jason was. If he was kind or funny or a good cook or if he'd be always willing to listen to him japing about some issue and then suggest a way he could do something about it—like Steve did.

Billy was surprised by the sudden comparison that popped into his mind. He hadn't thought about it like that, not at least consciously, about the qualities he liked in Steve and now trying to find if Jason had any of them. He made a mental note to avoid that in the future. He was on a date and dating was for learning about the other person so you could make your mind. Not comparing them to someone else who wasn't even a ex.

They made their orders and were then engulfed in a conversation.

"So, how do you survive teaching aerobics to people with two left feet?" Jason asked, his voice tinged with amusement. "I've seen some hopefuls in your class. It's like watching Bambi on ice."

Billy chuckled, "Well, the key is patience and a good sense of humor. Plus, it's hard to stay frustrated when you're surrounded by so much... enthusiasm." He raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the last word with a playful smirk.

"Ah, enthusiasm. Is that what we're calling it these days?" Jason teased, taking a sip from his glass of water.

"Absolutely," Billy replied with a grin.

Their laughter mingled, filling the space between them with an easy camaraderie. As the food arrived, they continued to talk. While Billy was in the middle of recounting an anecdote from his latest surfing escapade, he reached for his glass but knocked it over instead, sending a cascade of red wine spilling across the white tablecloth. “Shit!” he exclaimed, half-standing, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He grabbed his napkin, dabbing at the spreading stain. “Did you get any of it on your shirt?”

“No,” Jason said, waving down a server to help. “And even if I had, it's just clothes. There are rackfuls of them in the stores.”

As the server came to the table and cleaned up the mess, Billy couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the wine he'd spilled. There was something about Jason's ease and humor that made him feel relaxed despite the accident.

"Next time," Jason said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I'm bringing a sippy cup for you. Safety first, after all."

"Oh har har," Billy retorted, rolling his eyes in mock indignation. "Just for that, I'm making you do double leg lifts next class."

“Is that a promise?” Jason's reply was light, but there was a hint of something more—a promise of future moments just like this one, filled with laughter and the thrill of new beginnings.

Over the evening, Billy found himself opening up about his life as a mechanic and an aerobics instructor and his love of the ocean—his passion for both surf and turf, as Jason called it. With each shared story and laugh, the connection between them deepened, the chemistry undeniable.

Yet despite the laughter and the clearly growing bond, Billy's mind occasionally wandered to Steve, his feelings and the tension that suddenly seemed to permeate the air back at the bungalow. Each time that happened, though, he shook off the thought and refocused on Jason. He was determined to enjoy the evening and the possibilities it might offer—ones that now at this first glance seemed promising.

[damagedintellect]

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Fake it till you make it: Chapter 6  💌  

Summary:  To avoid an arranged marriage set up by Doflamingo, Law needs to bring home a girlfriend during the Christmas break and you just so happen to be a theatre major in the same dorm at One Piece University. What could possibly go wrong?  

Tropes: College AU, Fake Dating, Idiots in love

💌 Word count: 4,335 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

The sun sat high in the sky, light flooding through the window. The events of last night slowly stirred through Law’s head as he woke up little by little. The light flashed annoyingly on his face as he could feel his head start to ache causing him to regret not drinking much water the night before. Although since he was forced to be around his family's clients for that long and his agreement with Doflamingo, he needed something to take the edge off of dealing with the blonde's bullshit. Besides, he didn't drink enough to truly embarrass himself; it's not like he would do anything he'd regret. If anything Law thinks when he’s inebriated he tends to do things he would have done anyways. He’s not a complete idiot. He snuggled back into the blankets trying to get the sun out of his eyes not wanting to get up just yet. That’s when he realized that it wasn’t the blanket he was nuzzling into. Flashbacks from last night played out in his head as he leisurely opened his eyes. He fucked up. Law was still stark naked pressed right up against (Y/N) spooning her with his arms pulling her closer to his chest. He didn’t know what to think about the hole that he dug for himself but this was not how he wanted to confront his feelings.

No matter how he looked at it, this was probably the worst thing he could have done. He cursed himself for thinking with his dick as he eventually untangled himself. What was he supposed to do now? The ride home was going to be extremely awkward and he was not looking forward to it. Does he bring up his romantic intentions or would that be weird. Like “(Y/N)-ya I know we just had sex and that was great also please be my real girlfriend.” He winced at his own delusion roasting his brain for the horrible choice of words. He got ready to take a shower as he looked at the desolate state the room was in. He contemplates waking (Y/N). It was already afternoon and he wanted to leave earlier since the roads were going to be crazy to deal with as it was new year’s day. "Great" Law thought to himself rolling his eyes. He messed up on all fronts because neither of them spent the down time yesterday packing. Now he remembers why he never bothered with having such infatuations. They were more trouble than they're worth.

—

Your back was cold but your face was warmed by the sun. It was the only thing keeping you from thinking about how much your head hurt. Actually scratch that everything hurt, your entire body was sore but it was a good kind of sore. Although your neck was killing you. You knew you would have to get up eventually. You really didn’t want to but if you and Law were going to leave at the time he wanted… your thoughts trail off as you bolt upright making yourself dizzy. OH GOD LAW! You had sex with Trafalgar Law. You scanned the room you were alone, still naked but alone. The whole room in a state of disarray as it all came back to you. You pulled the blanket over yourself not wanting to think about how embarrassingly horny you were last night. You’re never going to hear the end of it. You can see it now the whole car ride back is just going to be him teasing you about how badly you wanted him. You tried not to think about it as you collected your things and packed them away. You contemplate taking a shower but decide to get dressed instead. If you knew when Law got up maybe you would but you don’t want to keep him waiting. On the other hand he still had to pack. You don’t bother looking in a mirror as you thread your fingers through your hair heading down stairs.

It didn’t seem like anyone else was around although as you made your way to the kitchen you could hear voices. When you turned the corner you made eye contact with Law who was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. He seemed to pause the conversation giving you a hard stare before his eyes lowered slightly. His face simmered red. Law covered the lower half of his face with his hand but didn’t look away from you. You blush lightly under his gaze giving him a quizzical look while Corazon gives you both a cheeky grin “At least now I know I won't have to beg for grandkids.” He laughed lightly to himself.

It occurs to you that he was referring to the hickeys on your neck and you blush harder. Law choked on his coffee and was lecturing Corazon that he can’t just say stuff like that. The blonde continued to laugh it off “Ah, young love. Law there’s no need to be embarrassed, she's your girlfriend for crying out loud.” Law cleared his throat putting his mug aside “I should start packing, it’s already later than I would have liked to leave.” He pulled his hat down when he walked past you but stopped to grab your arm taking you back upstairs with him. Neither of you spoke until you got into the room. Law didn’t let go of your wrist, both of you just staring at your hands. Trying to collect his thoughts he muttered “I’m sorry about him, I don't know why he said that.”

You laughed nervously in hindsight. You had to admit it was kind of funny if it wasn't directed at you. “I uh probably would have made a similar joke had it been my kid so don’t worry about it.” He eventually let go of your wrist and started gathering his things. You tried to make yourself busy by making the bed.

"Listen about last night-"

"I'm coming in," Law was interrupted by Doflamingo "Corazon said you were about to head off. I wanted to offer my assistance, it would be rude of me to not see you out." Doffy gestured to your bag but Law stepped in front of you. "I'm sure we can manage just fine." Doflamingo grinned smugly, "I insist.” You could see sparks fly with how intense their gaze on each other was. Honestly you don’t want to get involved but you know neither of them will back down. They’ve done this a few times over the week but Corazon was always there to snap them out of it. These silly boys and their mind games you swear. You bite the bullet and calmly take Law’s hand hoping he will stand down this once. “That would be lovely and I would like to thank you again for everything this past week. I know my arrival was on short notice.” you broke Law’s focus for a moment before he glared back at Doflamingo, backing down and letting the blonde take your bag. "Truly the pleasure was all mine. It's not everyday one manages to capture Law’s heart." Law would have rolled his eyes at the blonde but he'd rather just leave already. After checking the surroundings to make sure he didn’t miss anything Doffy ushered you both out of the room.

“Did you enjoy yourself while you were here, (Y/N)?” Doflamingo asked as you all walked down the stairs. Corazon joined you on your way to the car. “Oh, very much. It was a nice change of pace.” You gave Corazon one final hug and Doflamingo offered you his hand. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, maybe even sooner than expected.” He threw a look at Law before turning around walking back to the manor. You wonder what that was all about as you got in the car.

You waited until you were a fair bit away from the manor before starting a conversation with Law. He seemed to be deep in thought and you don’t blame him. Doflamingo’s last words seemed rather cryptic in your opinion but you think that’s just how he is in general. While Corazon seems to be an open book with only everyone’s best in mind, his brother seemed to be the evil master manipulator. At least you kept your promise to Bepo.

"About the-"

"You know-"

You both spoke at the same time, Law glancing at you briefly before looking back at the road. "You can go first." He was almost relieved. He already tried to bring it up once and at this point he lost his train of thought. You shifted in your seat. "I was going to say I really did enjoy myself," you smiled at him. "This was a lot of fun. What were you gonna say?" You had a feeling you knew what it was. Obviously it was the elephant in the room. You don't know how you feel about it. You felt something for Law you really did and it seemed like he felt the same way but you can't deny that last night you both were drinking. You just don't want to be wrong and Law wasn't exactly the easiest to read.

"I was going to say that about yesterday, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable." Law cringed at his own words. He was having a hard time focusing partly because of Doflamingo's almost threatening send off and mostly because everyone was driving like ass. This is why he wanted to leave earlier but that was his own damn fault. Not to mention he wanted to have this conversation before they left but Doflamingo ruined that too and now he had to try and remember the speech he made before the interruption. This was not going as he planned. He just hopes he doesn't inadvertently make things worse.

He's worried he made you uncomfortable, does that mean he regrets it? Did that mean the flirting was unintentional? Did you somehow miss read the signs? You only had more questions or maybe you're overthinking. "I wasn't uncomfortable. Believe it or not I did mean what I said before coming here." It was true you were fine with it. Physical contact wasn't off putting to you in general and since it was Law you openly welcomed it, but he didn't know that.

Right, how could Law forget.

Come to think of it, maybe Law was wrong about his hunch. You being good at your job was starting to be a real pain in the ass. It didn't negate his romantic feelings but he might need more evidence before making a fool of himself. Although he should just peel off the band aid, he didn't. He would rather die alone than be wrong.

"I guess so, oh since you're paying me I really don’t care about personal boundaries. Holding hands, kissing, cuddles whatever is fine with me. I'm your girlfriend now so don't be shy." You looked at him over his expression, unreadable as ever. You grinned "Or do, you're pretty cute when you're flustered." You shot him a playful wink.

The rest of the drive was in stifling silence as you checked social media for the first time since leaving the dorms. You saw a flood of messages and pictures from the group chats showing what everyone else had been up too. It seemed like everyone was having a good time. Ace and Sabo had the most pictures shared usually of Luffy doing something stupid. Ussop sent some of him and Kaya playing in the snow. Sanji sent some of the mouth watering food he made, apparently Nami and Zoro were with him. Nami lived by Baratie in Sanji’s neck of the woods but apparently Zoro got lost on his way to Mihawk's and somehow ended up there by accident. Zoro later sent a selfy with Perona and Mihawks confirming he did eventually make it home. Chopper had taken a picture with the real Santa and no one had the heart to tell him otherwise. Robin and Franky sent a few selfies of their adventures. Lastly Brook sent a little jingle wishing everyone a happy festive season.

It was pretty late by the time you guys got back on campus. The school was fairly empty but you did see some people who stayed back. You followed Law into the dorms and wondered what the surgeon was thinking about. As you made your way inside it seemed pretty empty still though there was a coffee mug on the common room table you wondered if someone beat you guys back to the dorms or if someone forgot to put it away before they left. If you had to guess it was probably Robin. She wasn't planning on staying with Franky the whole break anyhow. The campus archives were like no other constantly acquiring new artifacts and literature. Lost in your thoughts you bumped into Law’s back wondering why he stopped but then you realized you both were already standing outside his dorm room.

“(Y/N)-ya, isn’t your room the other way?” he pointed down the hallway as you perked up, lightly blushing “Right! Yup, I forgot- I mean, I-I must still be tired.” you smacked your cheeks for emphasis trying to cover up the fact that you were embarrassed. You were about to walk away when Law stopped you. “In that case I might as well give this back.” He opened the door to his room, setting his bag on his bed as he opened it revealing Lil Law. You gasped dramatically, because of the events that transpired on the last night you completely forgot about him. You looked at the bear fondly and held him close. “I thought for sure you got rid of him!” Law scoffed looking away feeling his cheeks heating up. “I was going to believe me, but knowing you? I wouldn’t put it past you to go back to Dressrosa and make a new one just to spite me."

You laughed but you probably would do something similar given you had the resources and the time to do so. "There's no way I could make a new one since I'd need you to say my name again. That's why he's special." You pressed his Paw "Oi (Y/N)-ya" without thinking you kissed the bear on the nose forgetting you don't need to keep up an act. You and Law meet eyes for a split second before turning away. "I guess I should be going then." You wanted him to tell you to stay but instead you were met with an emotionless "Do what you want" and just as you feared everything was back to normal.

Law didn’t actually expect you to leave. Genuinely he thought you'd make up some excuse to stay. He almost regrets giving back his replacement so easily. He wanted to see what you would do given the chance. Which was kind of stupid on his part he knows that. There was no reason for you to stay; you had already fulfilled your part of the bargain. Law didn't want to admit it but sleeping next to you was some of the best sleep he's gotten all year. At least he could finally be alone with his thoughts and figure out where to go from here.

You were such an idiot. You should have just told him you were staying, said something cheesy like "What? You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" But as brave as you are, your anxiety got the better of you. It was so much easier when you didn't have any expectations of the outcome of your dimwitted flirty remarks and now it seems like a lost opportunity. You knew from day one this was going to be the outcome but it feels like you didn’t even try. You laid down cuddling with Lil Law. There had to be some way to break the ice, something you could do to get things back to how they were before the Gala. You could ask if he wanted to hang out but you guess you've kind of already done that the whole week. You could watch the Polar Express again, or not, you already did that and you fell asleep too. You ruffled your hair tossing and turning on your bed accidentally triggering an "Oi (Y/N)-ya" You froze, almost having a heart attack before realizing he wasn't in the room. This is why you liked theatre. Everything is scripted to the gesture there was no guesswork and even when there was it was contained in a character song that explained the next course of action.

—

It had been a week. A whole week, roughly the same amount of time you stayed in Dressrosa for and you hadn't seen Law since. You weren’t avoiding him per se but you also had been keeping busy. You had been putting in crazy hours at the studio keeping a strict conditioning regiment. You started off focusing on your technique but after an hour of ballet you decided you shouldn't push yourself that hard. Especially after a break. Alternatively it felt good to dance. It was very freeing to just throw on some music and let the feeling wash over you.

As more people came back to the dorms you would catch glimpses of Law passing through the common room. He wasn't looking so good the bags under his eyes were much darker than before and he seemed to zone out which wasn't something he ever made a habit of. Bepo tried asking you if anything happened while you were at Dressrosa but you'd deflect any details that involved you specifically. Shachi and Penguin were also astonished at Law’s new mannerisms. It wasn’t like the surgeon to be absent minded. Penguin asked you if you both got in a fight because of the way he reacts when they bring up your name. Apparently they wanted to go out with you for drinks the other night and Law almost fell out of his seat at the notion. Then again they also said they haven't seen him get any real sleep since they all returned to the dorms. You were worried but didn't know how to go about helping. Law doesn’t like being told what to do or being taken care of. The irony.

—

Unbeknownst to you, everyone else in the dorm Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were already planning an intervention. “They have been driving me crazy, we have to do something they keep avoiding each other and using me as the middleman.” Bepo lamented. He would do anything for Law but he couldn’t sit and watch any longer. They had the sneaking suspicion that you both had caught feelings for each other and refused to act on them. That was the only reasonable explanation at this point.

Shachi leaned back in his chair “Well what do we do we can’t just invite them both over and not tell the other. One way or another they’d find out and then refuse to come.”

Penguin thought it was brilliant “That’s perfect actually! I invite (Y/N) to go out for drinks or something and you guys ask Law if he wants to watch a movie and then I’ll say I need to get something from Bepo first and we lock them in the dorm.” He received quizzical looks from the others.

“There’s no way that’s gonna work.”

“It’ll work I swear,” Penguin hoped because if it didn't he was out of ideas. “It has to work.”

You were on your way back to your room after a much needed shower. Dancing for long periods of time makes you sweaty and gross even in the ac. That's when Penguin stopped and asked if you wanted to grab a drink with him. Apparently the girl you set him up with broke it off recently and he didn't want to be with the guys right now. Which was convenient for you all things considered you needed a drink. It was already pretty late in the day so you told him you could be ready in less than an hour. When you got back to your dorm you dried your hair and picked out something nice. Part of you wants to be reckless and go home with a stranger to get your mind off of Law. In all honesty you're fairly certain all you had to do was talk to him about it but for some reason it felt complicated but also like you had nothing to lose. Bottom line it was frustrating and usually you're really good at reading people. It's quite literally part of your job to analyze body language and interpret motivations. You wondered if you'd feel the same had you not gone to Dressrosa. What would you even say to him? "Oh the dangers of method acting, I fell in love with you Oops." You shake your head. No, you knew from the very beginning he was your type.

From your first encounter with the surgeon you're pretty sure he had your heart and not just your broken pen. The story you told in Dressrosa was a hundred percent true. That's how you technically met. The second time you saw the surgeon he was fighting off fangirls which is why you choose not to get involved. Now you wonder if you were always going to end up like this one way or another. Reminds you of how your parents met. You grit your teeth and smack yourself taking one last look in the mirror before messaging Penguin.

As you were about to leave he needed something from Bepo. He didn't specify what but you shrugged it off. They had pretty much been babysitting Law all week the absent mindedness could be rubbing off on them too. You followed behind pulling your phone out not paying attention as the door opened.

"(Y-Y/N)-ya?" You heard Law utter in disbelief. Glancing around you realized it was a bait and switch. "Shit." You tried to escape but Bepo pushed you further into the room as Penguin and Shachi secured the door. "Neither of you are leaving this room until you work out whatever is going on between you two!" They shouted from the other side of the door. You gestured at the door looking at Law who only shrugged having no hand in the set up. You sighed, putting your hand on your hip. "You guys do realize the door opens and locks from the inside right." There was a brief pause before the handle jiggled "If we hold the door what difference does it make. Now talk!"

You looked back at Law. He had his head in his hands most likely embarrassed by the loyalty of his friends. You sat next to him on the bed you might as well get this over with.

"So-"

"You're-"

You both looked at each other, both motioning for the other to say their piece. You frowned, this will get you nowhere. "No, I went first Last time and look where that got us." Law grumbled but you were right. "You're looking well" he said gesturing to your outfit. To be fair you were dressed to go out of course you looked nice. Law on the other hand looked like he hadn't left his room all week. "And you look like death"

"I haven't been getting much sleep" He paused, deciding whether or not it was a good idea to tell you more information "You're all I can think about."

"I can imagine. I mean you were always an insomniac-” you cut yourself off. It only now dawned on you what Law said “Wait what" you stare back in confusion. Did you hear him correctly?

It was now or never Law thought as he looked away. He didn’t want to face you. He didn’t want to see your reaction to his words. "I might have developed romantic feelings for you and trusting people and letting them in has never been my strong suit"

"Well, being honest with my emotions has never exactly been mine so I guess that makes two of us." You moved closer to put your head on his shoulder. Law tensed at the action. For smart people you guys sure are idiots. "I feel the same, by the way.” You laughed awkwardly. “You know just in case you were wondering.” Law sat up to look at you. When he had this conversation in his head that’s not what he expected you to say. You blinked back at him “What?”

Law narrowed his eyes at you “You like me” he said flatly. You didn’t understand what he wasn’t getting at “I do, why, is that hard to believe?” he rubbed his temples putting two and two together "Then why have you been avoiding me?"

You scoffed "I could say the same to you! I assumed it was all in my head because you didn't seem interested after we got back."

"Are you kidding me?! I spent the last three days of the trip actively flirting with you!"

"Yeah on a trip where we were in an established relationship!"

"I never flirt with anyone, it should have been really obvious!"

"Maybe if you were a better flirt I would have realized it sooner!" You argued back. That last comment had a little more bite to it than necessary. You think you might have actually struck a cord there "Seriously!" Law looked slightly offended crossing his arms. You laughed as you cupped his grumpy sleep deprived face "Just kiss your girlfriend already." You both leaned in feeling the familiar spark. As you were about to pull away he wrapped his arms around you trapping you in his embrace. You stayed like that for a while enjoying the hug before you realized his breath evened out and he was no longer responding to you. He was asleep.

—

Chapter Navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [You are here] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[hurryupmerlin]

My beloved Mal belongs to @riinoaheartilly

_______________

"How many sex partners did you have?" Mal asks while his hand draws lazy circles on Ami's bare shoulder.

It's a good time to ask things that would otherwise never be addressed. Heads still woozy with happiness and systems flooded with cuddle hormones so soon after their interlude makes for loose tongues.

"You tell first."

"When I was younger, a couple guys in the showers,” Mal muses. “Nothing serious; we had no idea what we were doing. After the war started I had a guy I met up with every now and then. Hated his guts but he knew how to get the job done."

"How could you sleep with someone you hated?"

Mal shrugs nonchalantly.

"We weren't allowed to stab each other. Had to find a way to resolve our conflicts differently."

"But you liked it?"

"Admittedly." He smirks. "What about you, what's your body count?"

Looking up at the ceiling, Ami answers after a few seconds of reflection: "Sex partners... Just you."

Mal's hand stops its monotonous circular movement and withdraws. He exhales audibly through his nose. For a moment he considers ignoring the statement and moving over to the next topic, but then he speaks out loud what he had been thinking way too often since he met Ami:

"Why do you always lie to me?"

He's used to Ami avoiding the truth, but he can't stop the disappointment from dripping from his every syllable.

In Ami's ears, the accusation rings even worse. He avoids Mal's gaze.

"I'm not lying," he asserts.

But maybe he should've lied. Should've said any number worthy of a nod and a chuckle. Should've made something up about a girl back home or another slave in the camp. Should've let Mal think that he had learned taking dick like everyone else did and that he'd just always been blessed with so little gag reflex, no story behind that.

A tight knot forms in his stomach. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he doesn't want to lie to Mal either. Now he regrets that he didn't stop the question in the first place. He wanted to know more about Mal and that lured him in. Perhaps Mal would have been ready for the second round already, that certainly would've distracted him enough from digging any deeper. Anyway, it's too late now.

Mal just shakes his head.

"Thought we were over hiding our pasts from each other. My mistake."

"Mal...," Ami tries again, struggling for words.

"Never mind," Mal says dismissively and straightens up. The worst thing about it, Ami figures, is that he doesn't even seem angry. Just done.

Mal swings his legs over the edge of the bed, about to leave and Ami sits up quickly, rocks forward and presses his face against Mal's back, wrapping his arms around his lover's hips.

Mal stills and hangs his head.

"I'm sorry," Ami mumbles against Mal's warm skin. "It's– I– I don't want to talk about... It's hard for me to talk about some things."

"That's okay." A cybernetic hand tenderly comes to rest over Ami's. "Don't worry, I still love you."

Being able to hide behind Mal without having to look him in the eye helps.

"I know what you think." Ami can't help the tremor in his voice. What he says next feels like chewing glass. "But lying on your back crying, while someone forces themself in... that isn't sex. Sucking a dick because you're so hungry you already fainted twice that day and desperately want to earn a treat isn't sex."

His voice breaks.

"But Mal, I love you. When I'm sleeping with you it's because I want you. Your kisses make me hard, and I can't get enough of your hands. And the way you say my name... makes it sound like an endearment instead of an insult."

He had hoped he could finish his monologue with a bit of dignity, but no. The tears find their way out and Ami's words crumble into sobs under the strain. The way he's crying now, he's too distraught to filter what comes next as he rambles on:

"And... sometimes you make me laugh while we're at it, how insane is that? I never even knew that was possible. Gosh, when– when you touch me, it feels so right. In my book, that is sex. And I only had sex with you, Mal. No one else."

Mal doesn't move or speak for a whole agonizing minute, just squeezes the hand under his.

He finds it difficult to unpack and sort everything that Ami has served him. The meaning of what he has just learned creeps into him like smoke into lungs. It constricts his throat, sharp-edged and indigestible.

Eventually he says a quiet "I'm sorry."

A multitude of grief and shame hangs in the air, heavy and dark. After all of Ami's words, he feels as if he's supposed to say more, balance it out, and do some healing. But words fail him.

"Only you," Ami says weakly, like a mantra, as his lips graze over the ridges of Mal's spine.

Mal's reply is quiet and soft: "Only you."

[meritatem]

When wildlife rehabilitators free animals back into their habitats, they take precautions with dangerous specimens; it's common sense not to stand close to the cage's door after it's open... that's why when Damian was sure Jason was fit to be cleared, he gave him instructions like a medical professional would, explained the layout of the safe house, pointed where to find his things and everything else he'll need and finally, took most of what he brought with him, gave him one last look and just left with a farewell, ignoring Jason's complaints in the background.

Only when he got out of the building and entered the closest one he selected to keep with surveillance, Damian activated the command to open the bed's constraints. While Todd was amenable enough for someone that had been kidnapped and put under medical procedures against his will, Damian wasn't under the belief that things would be safe for him once Jason was free. Although the Lazarus Pit had been a foreign influence affecting him physically, it didn't mean that his mental state had become stable now that it was gone. Todd was going to need time to come to terms with the things that happened to him; expecting those issues to be resolved in a couple of weeks was unrealistic, but Damian knew he'd have a better outcome if he waited some time before approaching Jason again, at the very least Todd would be less likely to shoot him again.

Damian headed towards the room he selected beforehand to do his actual stakeout and once there, he resigned himself to more waiting. Given how much he spent in silence with his thoughts in the past few days, the two hours it took for Jason to resurface to the world practically flew by. That’s what he had been waiting for: to see Jason in the screen of his laptop through the security cameras, up and ready, walking on the garage, bag on his shoulder and looking so much better after a shower, if his seemingly damp hair was anything to judge by. Jason got on the first motorcycle that caught his attention and put the helmet over his head, not even bothering with looking for trackers, so either he didn't care at this point or he was planning on ditching it as soon as possible.

And there Todd went, out of the garage using its secret entrance, free to roam the streets of Gotham once again.

This was something Damian spent so much planning for and while it had been exhilarating at the beginning, now it left him feeling like climbing a mountain and stopping just for a small respite, before being forced to keep up, carrying the invisible weight of his past. No rest for the wicked, so they said.

He gave three updates - more than enough time to cover up what he had been up to - before announcing his whole operation was a bust.

It was embarrassing to admit such juvenile overlook from his part, but when he arrived later at the bunker, the sight of Grayson, full in costume, took him by surprise. And it was something expected, logical, but the fact that Damian hadn't conjured this foreseeable imagery until now, meant he purposely avoided thinking about this inevitability, even when it was so impossible to ignore the reality of this fact... the mind certainly was capable of doing wonders when denial was part of the mix. Drake was there too, sitting in front of the computer and both of them seemed busy with something, but when Grayson noticed his presence, he turned and gave Damian his full attention.

“Hey there,” he said more warmly than he had any right to be. “Welcome back, kiddo.”

Tim threw at him a cold glance before returning his gaze to the screen and any hope Damian had of making this quick, died when Dick starting walking towards him.

“I'm sorry things didn't go well this time.”

Damian had spent too much time with Todd clearly, because his first impulse was to answer as crassly as him. “A mere setback, it comes with the territory.”

“Look at it this way, we can all work at this together now.”

“If you must.”

Like hell, Damian was going to bury everything about his cover a never brought it up again, even if he had to go and look for trouble to make it up for it.

“So,” Dick said in a playful tone and a little pause. “What do you think?”

Grayson was referring to the suit, but he must thought Damian needed the clarification because he extended his arms, trying to show better the assemble. It wasn't all different from the original suit he once donned but Damian could see the small changes... changes based on his own design, mostly in the armor. And in another time, seeing again that ridiculous bat buckle would've make him smile, but at the moment he wasn't in the mood for the small joys of life.

“Acceptable,” was the neutral answer. “Could be better.”

Grayson laughed and it was so irrational how Damian wanted to just hate it; hate a sound he treasured so much he even dreamed of it while walking the barren land of the future.

Whatever Grayson was going to say next it was interrupted by Drake, who didn't even bother in looking in their direction. “Dick, come here and take a look, I think I found something.”

“Sorry,” Grayson said, directed at Damian. “We'll catch up later, okay?”

At the same time that Dick turned around, Damian extended his arm and for a second his hand twitched with the need to grab the cape, but he stopped himself right on time, covering that hand with the other, like it suddenly had its own will and needed it to be controlled.

Before he made a fool of himself, he hurriedly retreated to change his clothes, so he could go to look for Alfred. Damian wouldn't be his parent's son if he couldn't put himself together by the time he made it to the penthouse, where he found the man in the kitchen, preparing what it must be a midnight snack, just like he always used to do when someone was down in the cave working.

“Master Damian,” he said as soon as he saw him, stopping what he was doing. “I'm so relieved to see you again.” He could've said the opposite and the tone he used would've show the true meaning of his words.

“Your lack of faith is disappointing.”

“I'll let you know my faith is always unwavering, sir.”

Ah, Pennyworth, always a lighthouse in the middle of tempestuous nights. Damian could lose everything time after time, but as long as Alfred was there, extending his hand to him, Damian could endure it and even force himself to smile while doing it.

“There was nothing for you to worry about,” he said instead. “If you have time, we could discuss the final details of my mission.” The true intention of his words was clear: he wanted to talk about what happened with Jason away from unwelcomed ears.

Alfred gave him a once-over and the disapproving twist of his mouth told Damian everything he needed to know. “I feel this little conversation will have to wait, I recommend you sleep first.”

“I'm fine.” He said out of principle, because he certainly would prefer not to have important conversations right now.

“I'm afraid this is nonnegotiable, Master Damian.”

“Very well, I'll be talking to you in a few hours then.” He gave a small bow as a goodbye and he turned around to leave, but before taking the first step he added. “It's good to see you were fine in my absence.”

That was the closest he could manage to said he missed Alfred, but it was understood regardless.

Damian took a so much needed shower and while it was refreshing enough, it did little to relax him. After he made a quick check to make sure everything was in place in his room, he turned off the lights and climbed on the bed; at this point in his night routine is when he'd usually took the earbuds and music player that were on the nightstand, so he could sleep without waking up at the smallest sound. But today he made no attempt to move and just lied there, eyes wide open even if the only thing he could see was the darkness surrounding him.

When his eyes filled with tears to the point where they threatened to fall out, he just absentmindedly wiped them with the tips of his left index and thumb. Normally crying came with warnings: a lump in his throat, a tickle in his nose, a sting in his eyes... it was rarely this easy and sudden, leaving him unable to just will the tears away; he turned to his right side, curling up and hiding his head under his arms and the pillow. The whole time Damian didn't make a sound even when he had to start breathing through his mouth.

He left behind the League long ago... but crying still felt like a sin.

The next day found him in a better mood for his conversation with Pennyworth... at least what it passed for better given the circumstances.

When he first decided to talk with Alfred about this mystical cure he knew about - which design he attributed to one of his tutors as a side project from his mother - and how it could help Jason, Damian tried really hard to convey the sincerity of his intentions and the mastery of his skills to pull it off.

Alfred asked question after question and Damian did his best to be as truthful as possible, without giving away his ruse of just being the right kind of person at the right time and place. Astonishingly, Pennyworth agreed that something like what Damian wanted to do was better left under wraps, because even if Dick knew that helping Jason was the right thing to do, he'd be more reticent in doing something so drastic, not without proof that Damian was saying the truth or being completely sure it'd work; it was a testament then, of how much trust he had gained from Pennyworth for him to go along with Damian's plans without doubting his methods. Damian wasn't sure if he really changed enough for an adult to finally recognize he wasn't just a stupid child, one with too many skills for his own good, or if somehow this was just Alfred being terribly conditioned by his father into doing morally questionable things in secret. Whatever the case, it was a godsend for someone trying to change the past without risking the future.

Tea time was the most appropriate moment to talk about Damian's little adventures in kidnapping and after he was done explaining the important parts, he took out a pen drive from one of his pockets and put it in the middle of the table.

“It contains my whole conversation with him, although you might want to skip my readings.”

Alfred looked at the pen drive like it was an object he was seeing for the first time and not being very impressed with it. “I think it's for the best if you destroy it,” he held the cup of tea that was in front of him and took a sip. “Some things are better left between two people.”

It wasn't the answer that Damian was expecting, but it was entirely just like Pennyworth to said something like that. He retrieved the pen drive and put it back where it had been previously and none of them say anything for a moment. Damian distracted himself by watching his reflection on his own cup of tea, still hating Earl Gray but drinking it anyway, because Alfred liked it.

“I don't believe things have changed,” Damian finally said. “But whatever happens now it's going to be entirely on him.”

They spoke about that a couple of times already, about how it was the most likely possibility that Todd was still going to raise chaos whenever he went, Lazarus' side effects or not. The only thing Damian did was to give him back agency and in a way, make him more dangerous. Jason with stupid ideas like dressing like a rejected superhero and challenging all the criminals in a hundred-mile radius, had still been manageable enough for an unwilling Batman and a bellicose Robin... but Todd with the advantage of a clear head? Well... good luck, Grayson and Drake, Damian was out.

But despite the discouraging prediction, Damian was convinced that Jason would follow a similar pattern to the Todd he knew, because as time passed, Todd relented on his own and gradually came around, becoming part of their tragic family again. Maybe this time Todd could stay away from this whole “bat-family” mess, surely it would save him a lot of heartbreak, of that Damian could attest well.

“And that's all I wanted for,” Alfred answered, more soft and open. “Master Jason has been through so much, at the very least he deserves the right of choosing the path he wants to follow, on his own. And for that I will be forever grateful, my boy.”

“Pennyworth, please, I'm allergic to niceties.”

Alfred didn't insist because in the course of their coexistence, he realized very early that Damian didn't feel comfortable with displays of affection or gratitude, something Alfred assumed had to do with his upbringing. The truth of course, was more complicated, because the current reason was that Damian didn't feel like he deserved any of those demonstrations; he wasn't being selfless or self-sacrificing in his actions, it was the complete opposite: he was desperately trying to amend the biggest mistake of his life, even if it meant breaking the laws of time and space, because that's how big his regret and egoism were.

And speaking of mistakes...

“There's something else I'd like to discuss, this too, requires your discretion.”

“Oh,” Alfred raised both eyebrows, preparing himself to hear something shocking because the first time Damian asked for something like this, he told him about the Lazarus Pit and his intentions for Jason. “Do tell.”

“I want to acquire a property from my father's state, I'll pay its fair price, of course. There's a project I want to start now that I have back my own founds.”

“I'm sure this can be easily solved, I don't think there's a need for you to pay to have access to the family's state. What asset are you interested in?”

Damian straightened up against the back of the chair and put his hands over the table, intertwining his fingers. “The MacDubh Castle in the Gaweyne Island.”

“...oh, my.”

Usually when Damian called for Colin, he did it late in the night, when he knew Colin was already out doing his own business. This time however, he asked if it's was possible for them to meet as early as ten o'clock.

That's how he found himself waiting at the agreed hour, sitting on the roof's edge of one of the buildings that were next to the street he asked Colin to meet. To Colin's credit, he was late only fifteen minutes and Damian couldn't help but smile at seeing his figure approaching under the street's lights, looking like the most untrustworthy character with that terrible trench coat and hat. Clearly it was about time Damian did something to remedy that attire.  

Colin stopped close to the corner looking for him, first in his surroundings and then, because he knew him well at this point, he looked up, finding him without much trouble, happily waving a hand at him. Damian chose that moment to stand up and then, without even thinking about it, he jumped, arms firmly grasping his cape and spreading it against the wind. Colin seemed positively awed when he securely landed in front of him, something he missed being able to do due to the lack of appropriate equipment made especially for him. 

“You have a new costume!”

Of course only a kid would pay more attention to that than the reason of their meeting or Damian gliding from a building. Calling it new was an exaggeration, it was basically the same design as his League uniform but everything was black; from head to toe there wasn't even the smallest flicker of color, nor there existed any design or symbol that could exhibit an allegiance or selfhood. The bigger changes were only the pointy ends of his cape and the laced up boots he had been thinking about. Outside of that, Damian was just a shadow. In more ways than one.

“Now you really look like a ninja!”

“I can take you down.” Colin laughed and Damian turned around so he could hide the slight twitch of his mouth that betrayed a smile, and started to walk. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

Contrary to what one would expect, Colin didn't ask where were they going but hurried to his side excitedly. “You were right!”

“I'm right about a lot of things, you have to be more specific.”

Colin playfully showed him, always mindful of their size difference, so Damian only staggered for a couple of steps. “Batman is back!” Now the excitement made more sense. “He put Scarecrow in Arkham! Everybody is talking about it, even robbers and thugs, some are scared because they think he's back from the death, like a zombie or some kind of demon.”

Oh, child, if only you knew. “Good, they deserve to be scared.”

“They deserve worst,” that right there was one the reasons Damian and Colin got along so well in the first place. “But I'm just happy he's finally back, I mean, we were handling it, but there's things only he can do and who knows, maybe next time he needs to be away for a little, he can let us in charge?” He sounded so hopeful that Damian didn't have the heart to tell him that it was very unlikely. “Have you been able to talk to him?”

“Barely, he and Robin are very busy at the moment, I imagine it's going to be like that for a while.”

“Oh,” Colin's disappointment was momentary, because next he seemed as animated as before. “And how's your brother?”

Damian had to stop himself from cringing because ugh... he had done a lot of unwise things and calling Todd “brother” was definitely one of them. But at the moment it seemed like the easiest way to convince Colin to help him, because kidnapping some random guy without any context undeniably sounded like criminal behavior, but saying he was trying to help his brother, who was in a similar situation like Colin had been at the beginning with Bane's Venom, was a much more sensible explanation.

“Alive. Hopefully not psychotic anymore, only time will tell.”

“Oh, alright, hope he gets well soon.”

This was Damian's life now, this kind of absurdity.

“Where are we going?” Colin finally asked the most important question and it only took him a couple of minutes.

“There.” Damian pointed to some spot in front of them.

Colin squinted his eyes, trying to figure out what Damian's was referring to. “Bat Burger?” He asked uncertainty.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To celebrate the possibility that I may be able to keep my spine intact.”

“Okaaay... are we really going there?”

“I'm not being clear?”

“It's not that, it's just... I didn't know, I don't have money with me, sorry.”

“I do, enough to buy anything and everything you want. And I'm not accepting refusals or else I'll remove your permissions to access the Grave.”

When Damian decided to baptize their little hideout with the ominous name of “the Grave”, Colin had alarmingly asked why like any normal person would, to which Damian replied that their activities as vigilantes were an absolute secret and secrets went to the grave. Colin must've thought it sounded “cool”, because he warmed up to the name instantly.

“You can't do that,” and he sounded genuinely offended. “I helped a lot with stuff.”

“We're not a democracy.”

This time when Colin tried to shove him again, Damian dodged it, because he knew it wasn't a playful push what was awaiting him.

Naturally, Damian's will was imposed at the end and although Colin seemed still hesitant while ordering, he didn't have problems to happily start eating once their food was on the table. 

Bat Burger was at this point a relatively small business, with just three restaurants in the city. It opened not long ago to a moderate acceptation, but he knew that in the next few years it was going to grow into a very lucrative chain. Once Colin had commented about wanting to visit it, but Damian, busy with the need of being a warrior and not a kid, never thought that was probably Colin's way of expressing his desire of going there with him.

The best thing about a restaurant with a gimmick such as this, was that Colin and Damian didn't raise brows and could pass as some fools playing superhero dress-up or something; surely they must've a Batman cosplayer at least once a week. So no one questioned Damian's sword - that he put in the seat next to him -, or the fact that he used a batarang to slice a piece of his hamburger. He considered the piece - a perfect quarter of the whole - for a moment, like it was a clue in a crime scene before finally putting it in his mouth; he carefully chewed before finally swallowing with an unconvinced look on his face.

“Would you like the rest of my hamburger?” Damian asked while pointing to his food with a hand gesture more appropriate to reveal culinary wonders.

“Why? You didn't like it?”

“I limit my consumption of meat to what is necessary but I was curious, the advertisement highly exaggerates, this is below average at best.”

“Really?”

“See for yourself.”

With Damian's encouragement, Colin took a good bite of the now infamous hamburger. “It's not bad, I think is tasty.”

“Tt, I'm a snob then.” And he took one of the fries from his order directly to his mouth.

“You're not, you just talk funny.”

“I can hurt you, severely.”

And like every time Damian threatened him, Colin just laughed. “See? You talk funny but you're also funny.”

Damian just sighed, all pretense and theatrics. “I used to be feared.”

Colin giggled because clearly he was having more fun in this place than Damian, so to appease him, he offered him his box of nuggets. “Do you want one?”

“No, thank you.” He answered with a wrinkle of his nose.

Acting like this was an actual problem, Colin looked over the table to the things he ordered, finally stopping in the stickers that came with said order of nuggets. “And a sticker?”

Now that caught Damian's attention. A couple of colorful stickers with the Batman symbol were a far cry from the toys that eventually will come with their meals, but Damian found himself taking the blue one because it made him think of something else.

“They could at least introduce some variety, Batman's not the only one keeping this city standing.”

“Well, we're at Bat Burger.”

“Batman's overrated.”

Damian didn't understood the “gravity” of his words until he heard Colin's gasp of surprise. “That's not true.”

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the place they were in, but he couldn't help the sudden need of doubling down. “There's dozens of heroes better than him, I can even use them to count instead of sheep.”

“Take that back! Batman is amazing even when he doesn't have powers, because he can always win without them.”

Colin could try to look like he was very offended, but the slightly tremor of his lips gave him away, so Damian put his left elbow over the table so he could rest his head against his hand, smirking. “Nightwing could easily defeat him, if he really wanted to,” and he made a point of taking another fry and biting it with his canines. “Or in terms you will understand better... he'll wipe the floor with Batman any day of the week.”

He caught the ketchup package that Colin threw at him, so Damian did accordingly and threw it back and from there, an array of things flew over the table - but not food, because both of them had respect for it -, so it wasn't surprising that by the time they tried to use the trays too, they were promptly kicked out.

And while sitting on the sidewalk in the cold of the night, finishing their food, they were still laughing.

⪻Chapter 10

Chapter 12⪼

[loveriotss]

hihihi!! i love your shinso texts and your writing style is amazing !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do some sick headcannons with him😖😖

SICK HEADCANNONS WITH HIM ⸻ hitoshi shinso

INCLUDES — gn! reader, headcannons, fluff, slight crack

main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚

IF YOU FELL SICK . . .

when you fall sick, 90% of the time it's one that could have been avoided if you had listened to shinso's advice. perhaps you were sick today because you had gone out on that rainy day yesterday despite shinso's warnings.

shinso can tell something is wrong when you randomly don't reply to his messages in the afternoon and so he decides to visit your room.

when he finds you laying on your bed, he shakes his head and checks your temperature through your forehead with the back of his hand.

"i told you so" "shut up"

and thus the afternoon turns into shinso being your personal nurse.

he makes sure you're wrapped up in your blanket properly, closing the windows to keep out the cold air.

he'd even put on some fuzzy cat socks on your feet after seeing you try to rub your freezing toes on your blanket in an attempt to defrost them.

will not leave your side at all.

makes sure you've drank enough water and taken your meds properly.

will even cook you a nice warm soup, spoon feeding you gently.

he will nag you to take care of yourself and how stupid it was of you to go out, all while lovingly caressing your hair and being at your beck and call.

you found it a bit silly that he was getting so worried about a little cold you had, but were grateful nonetheless.

after he makes sure that you're comfortable, he will climb into bed with you despite your complaints that he will get sick too.

will cuddle with you, giving your body extra warmth until the two of you drift off to sleep.

IF HE FELL SICK . . .

whenever shinso falls sick, it's mostly because of him overworking his body while training which results in him losing his voice and having body aches.

he thinks hes soo slick by texting you that he's going to bed early so you won't know he's sick. THE shinso hitoshi going to bed early?? not possible.

in under 5 minutes you are knocking on his door. when he unlocks the door for you, you find him looking even more tired than he usually does. his room is in bit of a mess, he hasn't changed out of his uniform and your suspicions are confirmed.

after some nagging and pushing you finally got shinso down into his bed, clearing it up a bit before standing up with a satisfied grin.

"don't worry kitten, daddy will take care of you" "..leave me alone"

he still thinks he should be able to take care of himself but his body aches too much to even move so he reluctantly lets you do whatever you want.

you cook him some soup and herb tea, just like he does when you're sick.

you even put on some songs that he likes in a low and comfortable volume as you busied yourself in cleaning up his room a little.

shinso's eyes follow wherever you go, drinking his soup slowly. he has always kept to himself whenever he fell ill but having someone take care of him and his space mades him feel a bit fuzzy inside.

he won't admit it out loud though.

you stay by his side, caressing his purple locks gently, ignoring the forced glare he has on you because you were so close to him and he was getting nervous he didn't want you to catch his fever.

he's like a silent grumpy cat when he's sick, motioning that he can do things by himself but you never listen anyway.

when he does get better, he will take you out on a little date or shower you with affection. again he will not admit it out loud but he really is thankful that you take care of him when he's sick.

NOTE — helloo i didn't know if you were requesting for shinso to be sick or for the reader to be sick so i did both!!

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[cat3ch1sm]

This is my first request but could you do the wammy boys reaction to the reader giving them a spa day? (Like with skin care masks, hair masks, nail painting, the whole 9-yards :33)

🐢| order up! enjoy<33 this will be a mix of headcanons plus scenarios!!

mello

❀ spa day? what's that? this man hasn't taken a deep breath since 1876

❀ mello is usually fine with the absurd things you suggest to do when you're bored- but what? having someone personally pamper him? someone actually showing him that they care about him and his wellbeing? the fuck?

he's just really confused as to why you want to give him a spa day

he's gonna act all tough and defensive when you suggest it as if he's too hardcore for a spa day, but really, he's kinda into the idea

"Please, Mello? Just this once." "Fine- if you insist."

hair masks

"What is this shit even supposed to be?" Mello glanced from the open container of moisturizer to you, his expression disdainful as he peered into the jar.

You smiled cheerfully, paying no mind to Mello's attitude- after all, he'd agreed to this in the first place. "It's a hair mask! It really helps with dry or damaged hair, and I know you really haven't taken care of your hair like you should be..."

Mello scoffed, but didn't deny this. "I don't have time."

"Okay, Mello," you chuckled, slightly exasperated as you moved towards him. "Here, I'll help you put yours in."

face masks

"And now my hair feels disgusting. Happy?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," you replied brightly before clapping your hands together. "Next, we're gonna do face masks!"

Mello automatically recoiled, his face repulsed. "Huh? We have to put this stuff on our faces?"

"What- no, of course not. Face masks are different from hair masks," you explained, tearing open two thin bags each containing a sage green face mask. To show Mello, you took one out and held it in front of your face, making sure your features aligned with the holes in the mask. "See?"

"That looks terrifying as hell."

You couldn't help but laugh as you set the mask back down on the bag. "Think so? Wait till we get to put cucumbers over our eyes."

"Wait- the fuck?"

nail painting- manicure+pedicure

"You're really pushing your luck here, Y/N."

"Hey- you agreed to this! You gotta go the whole way now."

Mello let out a melodramatic groan, but you could tell he wasn't really annoyed. "Black. I'm getting black."

"Mello. You wear the same chipped polish every day. It's time for an upgrade, dude." You stepped aside from the table behind you to display the numerous bottles of nail polish you'd laid out. "Choose whatever colors you want- one for fingernails and one for toenails. And you can't choose black."

"We're doing both?"

"Pick two colors!"

"What- fine."

massage

"Are you trying to make this weird?"

Undeterred, you shot a wide smile Mello's way, and slightly flustered, he dropped his sullen gaze to the ground. "Not at all. I'm only doing this because you haven't relaxed since the day you were born, so..."

Mello, whom you had forced into a chair, looked up abruptly, no doubt preparing to protest- but realizing you were probably right, he folded his arms across his chest. "Whatever. Do what you want."

"Thank you." You leaned over to kiss him quickly on the nose, to which he turned his eyes to the sky, avoiding your gaze.

༊* he ends up enjoying the massage way more than he expected himself to, although he absolutely won't admit it. well, you can tell anyway.

steamy shower

"You haven't said anything snarky yet," you informed Mello, a brow raised. "Have I broken you already?"

You had already started a hot shower, waiting for it to steam up a little more before it was ready.

"Don't be dumb. I'm wondering if this will be the only thing I can actually get into in this so-called 'spa day.'"

"Hm? What makes this less miserable?" you queried curiously.

"I get to see you naked."

"Oh- Jesus." Now it was your turn to stare at the ground, face hot as you began heading to the shower, Mello beside you.

matt

༊* matt is totally down. tbh go mf crazy

hair masks

"So how do you put this stuff on?" Matt asked, popping the container open and sticking a finger into the moisturizer. "You just drench your hair in this stuff?"

"Well, there's a specific way you have to apply it so you get full coverage," you explained. "Here, let me- Matt?"

You hadn't even begun your explanation before Matt had already turned the whole thing over on his head, tapping the bottom of the container to get all of the product out. Unfazed by the stuff dripping from his hair and sliding down his cheeks, he promptly looked back at you expectantly. "What's next?"

face masks

Finally, you'd managed to clean most of the hair mask from Matt's face- although there was still glossy residue on his clothes, and his hair was full of product. With an exasperated shake of your head, you set down the damp rag you'd been using and picked up a face mask.

"That looks a little freaky," Matt remarked, an eyebrow raised at the mask you held over your face.

"Clear skin doesn't," you replied nonchalantly, placing it on your skin and moving to get Matt's face mask. Matt, in the meantime, peered into the bowl of dewy cucumbers with an odd look. "What are these for? Do we eat them?"

You spun around instantly. "Matt, no-"

Too late- your boyfriend had already decided to munch on the green vegetable slices, popping at least three into his mouth and frowning slightly. "These taste weird as hell."

"I- good grief, Matt, you weren't supposed to eat them!"

"Really? Wow." Matt sent you an innocently bright smile, cucumbers sitting in front of his teeth. "My bad."

Regardless of Matt's antics, you couldn't help but smile.

nails- manicure+pedicure

"I can totally do my own nails, you know."

"Yeah, well, after that hair mask stunt, I don't trust you around this stuff," you retorted, setting down the barrage of nail polish bottles you had. "Choose two colors- one for your fingers and one for your feet."

"Why don't I just get a different color for every nail?" Matt asked flippantly, bent over to observe the nail colors you'd laid out.

"Because you have too many digits for that. Now choose or I'm choosing for you," you answered, giving Matt a pointed look.

Now Matt grinned in amusement. "Ha! There are easily thirty different colors here. You just don't have the patience." Casually, he danced over to the still present bowl of cucumbers and popped one into his mouth.

You shrugged before laughing out loud. "You aren't wrong."

massage

"Why do I need a massage?"

"Because you hang around Mello twenty-seven hours a day."

Matt gave you an amused look. "What does my hanging out with Mello have to do with me needing a massage? And also, there aren't that many hours in a day. Just saying."

"I know that, genius. What I mean is, Mello is the most uptight person I know, and I'm sure it's not doing you any favors. Now sit on the chair." You indicated a wooden chair in the center of the room.

Matt raised a brow at it skeptically before glancing back at you oddly. "This is supposed to be a massage chair?"

"Well, I really can't go out and buy a big fancy recliner when we're in hiding because the goddamn police are looking for you," you replied with a dramatic eye roll.

"You know, I figured I wouldn't be able to relax with a massage from you anyway, but you're really making it worse."

"I'm still better than Mello."

"Are you?"

shower

"So now you're saying I stink?"

"Matt!"

"Kidding. Come on, let's get in."

"So you're automatically assuming we're showering together?"

"You don't have a choice, babe."

near

༊* he's wondering why you came up with the idea, but after some convincing, he agrees to it if it will please you. but be aware that this man has no idea what self-care is😭😭 the almighty near has no damn clue how to brush his hair properly

hair masks

"Uh- I'm not sure I know what exactly a hair mask is," Near informed you, eyeing the jars of scented hair product somewhat cautiously. "Will it have any detrimental effects on my hair after I use it that I need to know about?"

"Uh-" Quickly, you snatched up one of the jars and skimmed over the words on the label before putting it down and smiling brightly. "Nope! All good. Also, I had to buy a million of these because your hair is insane and I really doubt you take care of it like you should. You're welcome."

"Thanks?" Near picked up a strand of white hair and twirled it in between his fingertips before glancing up to watch you open one jar. "Do you just... put it in your hair?"

"Pretty much."

Near paused and stared at the jars for a second before looking back up at you expectantly. Feeling his eyes on you, you looked back up at him questioningly.

"Do... you need me to show you?"

"That would be nice."

face masks

"Huh- my hair feels... moist."

You had to fight the urge to laugh at how clueless your boyfriend was when it came to these matters. "That's what's supposed to happen- see? No side effects."

"Alright. What will we do now?"

"Face masks!" you announced excitedly, laying out the supplies. Near glanced down at them with a furrowed brow.

"I believe I've seen these before... I may know how to apply one if I can remember correctly." Tentatively, Near took one in between his index finger and thumb and promptly plastered it on his face, looking at you expectantly. "Is this right?"

You blinked a couple of times before smiling slightly. "Uh- yeah. But don't forget the cucumbers!"

"To... eat?"

"Nope! You put them over your eyes to get rid of eyebags."

"Eyebags? I am only nineteen- I don't think those are an issue yet-"

"Yeah? When was the last time you slept more than two hours at night?"

"I get plenty of sleep," Near retorted defensively. "Just last night I was able to-" Suddenly, he cut himself off, mind blanking as he tried to recall a night where he'd gotten an adequate amount of sleep.

You raised a brow at Near pointedly. "Case and point."

nails- manicure+pedicure

༊* i think near would rather paint a mural or something on the floor instead of doing his nails- but tbh he doesn't care, let him go crazy

You sat on the ground in front of Near, observing his activity with a puzzled look on your face. "I'm a little surprised you decided to paint the ground instead of your nails, but whatever makes you happy." You tilted your head at the art made of several glittery polishes and smelling strongly of chemicals. "What are you making, anyway?"

Near didn't answer, dabbing a few more drops of metallic silver onto the floor before scooting back and observing his drawing.

"Look- I made Ryuk."

༊* pls tell him it looks nice no matter how it may actually look because pls

massage

༊* near does not want the massage. he wants to keep painting. he also starts stacking the empty nail polish bottles on top of each other. u must play with him

steamy shower

"Hot showers make my hair frizzy."

"Yes, Near, but you need to exfoliate, so you don't have any choice."

"I have never exfoliated before. I don't see any reason why I should begin now."

"Near, you already agreed to the spa day- you gotta go all in now."

ryuzaki

༊* it takes a lot of pleading and cake but you finally get l to agree to your spa day. except now you owe him like five slices of cake. fun.

༊* so uh yeah buckle up bc this man has never breathed in the same room as a shower

a/n- anyways purely headcanons here because this post is hella long n im tired

hair masks

༊* will probably take the whole container and dump it on his head

༊* he will proceed to accidentally gel his hair into a bunch of naruto-looking hairstyles and wonder why you're falling tf out in the back

༊* then l realizes his hair looks weird asf, get irritated by you laughing at him, and then go to you and turn a whole different container over your head because he's childish and petty. have fun cleaning the stuff off your face and shirt

face masks

༊* -puts face mask over self- "Boo."

༊* bro has no clue how to take care of himself. at all. mentally or physically. he's worse than every other wammy boy combined. it's rare he even bathes properly, let alone does a whole spa day routine

༊* once you say the cucumbers are supposed to get rid of eyebags/dark circles, he flat out refuses to put them on his face

༊* "Ryuzaki. You're telling me you don't see why you need to put the cucumbers over your eyes?"

"No. I think my dark circles give me character."

༊* eh, well, he isn't wrong.

nails- manicure+pedicure

༊* honestly L kinda likes the idea of having his nails done. he is not at all concerned with the feminine factor he just thinks it looks nice

༊* he sits all quiet and still while you paint his nails with dark blue or black. finally his frog position works out to your advantage because his toes and fingernails are displayed

༊* does everything in his power not to smear the polish once you're done. he will also not remove it willingly for several weeks afterward

massage

༊* l is the one giving you a massage despite your efforts to convince him to let it be the other way around. ur not complaining tho

༊* at first you hear bones cracking and get anxious but it turns out it's pretty refreshing

༊* 10/10 massager. would hire at a salon

steamy shower

༊* mans has never walked into a shower in his life. he has basically always used that weird washing machine thing

༊* he also keeps the water absolutely freezing and therefore is not at all open to getting in a hot shower. he is also dramatic as all hell about it and is stressing u tf out

༊* "Do you want me to boil alive?"

"Good question."

[lolliesinthewind]

Behind Closed Doors

ambiguous character x black!reader

Content Warnings: Intimidation, Non-con, Forced Orgasm(s), Dumbification, Oral Sex (m. and fem. receiving), Slapping, Unprotected Sex, and Underage Sex. Mentions of bullying

i fucked around with this one

minors read this shit

(A/N: Please don't romanticize this. This is only for funsies and none of this is real.) 

(A/N: 🐺🐺 = smut part.)

First Person POV:

Fear.

Fear is something I've always felt. It’s something that I am at this point ever since he came to my school.

It was the start of 7th grade when he came to my school, at first he didn't notice me and hung around the 'popular' kids. A lot of the girls in my class had a crush and at one point I did too but my crush on him quickly disappeared when I saw him slap one of my classmates in the hallway at lunch. He saw me in that hallway and he has been tormenting me since then.

At first, it was nothing I couldn't deal with like purposely bumping into me, stealing my pencils, and shutting my Chromebook. But then it escalated in 8th grade, he started to trip me on the concrete in front of the school, talk about me to his friends, and pull on my hair. In 9th grade it got worse, he'd talk to my friends and got them to leave me alone, he'd spread rumors about me, and he somehow found my social media and began cyber bullying me.

It’s now 11th grade and he has bullied me for the past five years. My depression and anxiety have become a permanent part of me. I've since deactivated my socials, I've also begun binge eating to deal with my depression, and started to wear oversized clothing to cover myself so no one can comment about my weight but they still do.

When I woke up this morning it was a normal day for me, I got up, took a shower, did my skincare routine, did my hair, and got dressed for school. Looking at my form in the mirror I was pleased despite his words I still thought of myself as beautiful. The long flowy black skirt looked great on me with the black long-sleeved shirt I wore under my oversized white and gray band tee. Slipping on my black platforms, I grabbed my backpack and went out the door.

As soon as I walked into the school I heard whispers, they never really bothered me but I just wished they talked about something else other than me. Slipping on my earphones I blasted music to block them out. Avoiding HIM was something that I was good at; taking the stairs on the far ends of the school, being the first out of class and the last one in, walking faster than half of the track team, and delving myself into the background.

For the most part, it worked, I found comfort in the fact that he wasn't around me and degrading me on every little thing that shouldn't matter to him. But today I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. The back of my head tingles throughout the day and somehow I could never shake the feeling.

At lunch I went to the bathroom on the far end of the school, usually, nobody went there. It was my safe space. Sitting in the handicap stall I was eating the lunch I prepared when I heard someone come into the restroom. They went in and out of a stall then I heard someone else come in, and soon I heard what I think was crying then mumbles as a stall door opened. I stayed quiet and still, till I heard what was two people having sex. Slowly getting up and grabbing my stuff I walked as quietly as I can out of that restroom.

Finally, inside the hallway, I took a deep breath, "Them niggas are nasty, in a restroom, especially at a school one” I thought in disgust as I shook my head. Walking up the hallway I was sad that my hiding spot was compromised because some two McNasties wanted to have sex. Checking the time it was already time for 5th hour. " You know what, Ima just mind my business and go about my day," I said to myself and that’s what I did.

I went about my day, doing my usual routine of avoiding him. It worked and I haven't seen him at all today except when I'm in class. The school was finally over and I was almost out the front doors when I remembered I had a club after school, turning around I sped walked to the club room. Opening the door I walked in, the lights were off and nobody was there. Checking my school email just in case, the teacher said there was no club today. Groaning I turned around again and fought the air in frustration, shuffling towards the door I opened but was pushed back inside.

Stumbling back into a table I looked at who pushed me, it was him. My eyes widen as I saw him shut the door and lock it, I snapped my head away from him and looked at the floor, I was frozen in fear as many thoughts went through my head like what does he want with me, I didn't do anything to provoke him I think, or what did I do? Hearing his footsteps coming towards me I saw his bright white Air Force 1s in my peripheral vision. I felt his breath on my left ear, immediately squeezing my eyes shut to try and block him out.

"You think you can avoid me, huh?" He whispered into my ear, still frozen in fear I couldn't move.

"Answer. Me." He harshly whispered again. Shaking my head no, the sound of my hair beads clacking together filled my ears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He said normally but this time it was filled with more venom than the last other times and slightly deeper. Stumbling over my words I couldn't make a coherent sentence.

"Since you can't talk properly, I'll talk for you, I think you're avoiding me because you have a crush on me." I could hear the smile on him when he said that. My eyes widened even more as I turned to look at him.

“No I don't, who said that?" I stuttered out nervously laughing at the end. Finally noticing how close we were, I took a step back bumping into a chair, I looked down at my leg looking right back up as I heard his laugh. Slowly moving around the table putting some distance between us.

"Me, I think you do, you let me do whatever I want to you and you never say a thing about. Like a doll." He said leaning over the table.

"Well I don't, so please leave me alone," I told him, putting a little base in my voice, my eyes flickering between him and the door. Noticing my eye movements he jumped over the table as I ran across the room around the other tables. As I got close to the door I felt his hands grab the side of my head and slam me into the hard wall. Feeling dazed as my ears rang, he pulled my hair making me look up at him.

🐺🐺"If you stayed right where you were this would've been better for you, I would've been nicer but now I don't want to." He said, shaking my head and then letting it go. Still looking up at him I just sat there in utter terror as I watched him unbuckle his belt and open his pants. The tears that filled my eyes were now falling down my face. Even though I didn't want to touch him ever, I knew that if I didn't comply he would get violent and I wouldn't be able to win that fight.

Squeezing my eyes close, I heard the rustling of clothes and soon felt his hand pull on my braids hard. "Open your fucking eyes." He said while tugging on my braids again. As a quiet sob racked through my body, I couldn't bring myself to do what he said.

"Open.Them." He commanded pulling my braids again but this time he got a small squeak from me. Trembling I opened my eyes, my sight blurred by my tears but still, I saw him holding his dick in my face, and by just looking at I sobbed harder. Looking up at his face I could see him smile then bite his lip as he nudged my lips with his tip like he was saying 'open up’.

Taking a deep breath shakily I opened my mouth slowly as I did he thrust hard into my mouth. My eyes widen I gripped his thighs to push him back but he instead placed his hands on the sides of my head and proceeds to fuck himself into my mouth. With every thrust I could feel him touching the back of my throat I was disgusted by him.

Moans filled the air as he fucked my mouth for what it felt like forever, "Fucking hell," he grumbled as I felt his dick throb. Pulling his dick back slightly he thrust himself deeply making me gag as I slapped his thighs so I could breathe. Looking up I saw him hunched over with his eyes closed tight and that’s when he finally came. Ropes of his cum filled my mouth, even more, he opened his eyes and we made contact. He chuckled at that.

Softly slapping my face he pulled out of me shuffling back, "That felt good, I might have to do that with you some more, how about that huh?" He said, smiling down at me.

"Are you done, can I leave?" My voice rasped taking in deep breaths as my tears dried up.

Shaking his head no with furrowed eyebrows, "You thought we were done with this, I have a great opportunity to do what I've always wanted to do, plus I haven't even gotten started." Chuckling as he said that.

'I want to kill him, I want him to die but if I don't comply I can get seriously hurt. Even though I probably weigh more than him, he's stronger than me by a long shot and curse him for being in football. Just go along and this will be over soon.' I thought while clenching my fist, I felt his eyes on me as I stared straight into the wall.

"Stand up," he commanded again. My eyes snapped to him then to the ground, I leaned onto the wall pulling myself up from the floor, grabbing my arm he dragged me over to the table I bumped into earlier, pushing me to lie back on the table. Standing in between my legs he began to rub my sides, staring at the ceiling, my body trembling as he pulled my shirt up over my push-up bra. Leaning down he started to kiss his way up my pudgy stomach to my breast, grasping my tit in his hand he took it out of the bra and began sucking on it, harshly.

Gasping at his touch I gripped the sides of the table to solidify myself, using his hands he put them under my skirt grabbing the back of my thighs pushing them onto the table and scrunching my skirt up around my waist.

"Raise your hips," I did as he said as I squeezed my eyes shut to prepare myself for what to come next. He ripped my panties, making me swallow a small sob, I tried to hold in my tears.

Wet. That is what I felt. Snapping my eyes back open I sat up and looked down to see him sitting down in a chair with his hands holding my thighs open.

"What are you doing?" I stuttered out.

Raising an eyebrow he said "I'm prepping you, you thought I was gonna go in all ruthless and shit? I'm mean but not that mean baby. Now lie down and enjoy."

"Wait, wait, hold on-" my words turned into moans as he sucked on my clit, I hunched over grabbing his hair with one hand and leaning on the other one. My moans grew louder as he licked the inside of my cunt. Moving one of his hands over my soft stomach to my breast he grasped my tit, rolling my nipple in between his finger pulling on it when he felt like it.

Still tongue fucking I felt his thumb rub 8's on my clit making my back arch and moan even louder. Feeling pleasure like this course through my body was very very good but I remembered it was him doing this too, so I tried to stifle my sounds. My breath grew heavy as I felt an orgasm coming.

Trying to hold in my orgasm I began to let out small no's. I guess by hearing my words he started to go faster with his movements adding even more pressure to the coil that was turning inside of me. My efforts to hold in my orgasm were all for nothing. Feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me, I came harshly letting out a semi-quiet squeal as I did.

Coming down from my orgasm I thought that was all and he was going to take me but I was wrong, so so wrong. He didn't stop even after I started to hit his head. I tried to pull him away from in between but he never budged. Continuing even after my 2nd orgasm, I was overstimulated and sensitive as tears filled my eyes once again because of that.

After the 3rd one he finally pulled away from in between my legs, standing up he looked at my heaving form and smiled.

"You taste so good baby, I wonder what you feel like on the inside, hmm?" He said while the hand that was rubbing my clit was now circling my hole slowly and his other hand moved from my tit to the table so he could lean on it. Leaning down even more he began kissing and sucking on my neck leaving hickeys in his wake.

Sinking his finger into me, it hurt less than I thought it would. As my cunt adjusted to his finger it was long and rough. Moving in and out slowly going fast, he lifted his head from my neck and peered into my eyes, his face emotionless. It was unsettling, to say the least. My moans grow loud with curse words slipping out every once in a while.

Adding another in me, he started to spread his fingers while keeping the same pace, making me hiss from the burn. Suddenly he stopped and began to do slow strokes, curling his finger while doing so, hitting a spot that made my hips buck and also made my eyes roll back as I let out a very loud moan. My overstimulated body couldn't handle and I came holding his wrist to try and stop but he instead rubbed my clit then slapped as I squirted.

Sobering up I saw him sitting back in the chair stroking himself with one hand watching my puffy cunt. " Ima fuck you now." He said gruffly, now on his feet, he pulled me to the end of the table and sat me up. My eyes widened once again at his words, my body quivering. I took a breath and leaned my head on his shoulder, clutching onto his grey jacket. Even though I was sobbing on the inside, it had to happen so I leave as fast as I could.

"You'll be fine, I got you. It will feel good baby." He whispered, grabbing my ankle and putting it on his shoulder, the position made my hip burn. Widening his stance he pulled me closer to him. One handheld the back of my neck and the other held his dick that was in between my pussy lips rubbing it up and down.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he slipped inside of me. I thought there was going to be more pain but I guess him playing with my pussy helped him. The more he went in the fuller I felt and when he was fully in I could feel my pussy struggling to take him, I felt so full. Breathing harder my eyes blurred and I couldn't clench around him.

" Fuck you're so tight baby, it seems like you can't take dick either." He groaned out, chuckling after. Grabbing my other ankle he put it on his other shoulder, now with my ankles on each shoulder. He picked me up by my ass pulling me against him. Scared of being dropped I wrapped my arms around his neck on instinct and I squeaked because I could feel his tip pressing flush against my cervix making my eyes cross.

"There we go, right -fuck- you feel so good, I'ma start movin' right now." He cooed, his voice strained. Not wanting to say a word to him I just dug my head into his shoulder wanting this to be done. Lifting me, our breaths hitched together, dropping me back down, a sigh left my mouth and a moan left him. He did the same thing as me and put his head on my shoulder.

Repeating his movements, his moans grew louder and my sighs turned into moans. His tip hitting my cervix with every drop, I couldn't comprehend what was going on, his words sounding muffled as I focused on the pleasure and nothing else. One particular drop made my back arch and a high-pitched whine came out of me.

Stopping he whispered in my ear, "So that’s where your soft spot is." Restarting, he moved faster this time and began thrusting harder as well, making my head trickle into a lust-filled haze.

The sound of squelching and skin slapping filled the air mixing in with our moans. It would've been a beautiful sound if it wasn't with him. His grip would surely leave bruises I thought as I leaned my head back with tears streaming down my face. Heat covered my entire body.

“I’ma cum -shit-.” I stammered out. Pulling out right before I can, he stumbled to a table against the wall. He set my feet down on the ground and turned me around, bending me over he put his hand on my back to keep me in place. Sliding his dick back into me making me whimper out, he took his hand off my back and grabbed my arms with both hands. Starting with a deep thrust he began to pound himself into me. I was gasping for air because of his thrust and I couldn't take anymore and came for the nth time with a low groan. The sound of skin slapping together became louder.

Stars spotted my vision as I came down from my high. The edge of the table digging into my stomach was the only I felt beside him, there were no more tears for me to cry as my mind became a mess of jumbled words just like my mouth. The only words that came out of were too much as I kept coming and he didn't not once. He hadn't said a word, only making noises. It felt I was with an animal instead of a man. Neither was better than the other.

As my knees buckled he wrapped an arm around my waist and shoulder leaving mine to fall to my sides. His thrust started to get sloppier than they had been. Slowing down he took a step back, pulling me down with him as he fell to his knees. Hunching himself over me, he repeated his pace from before.

" 'I'm gonna come baby." He said breathily, nuzzling his head into my neck as he clumsily moved down my body to rub my clit. Feeling another one coming I began to sob as I knew I couldn't take anymore. Stuttered no's leaving my drool-covered lips, slowing down he took one more thrust and pulled out coming on my ass. A low groan left him as he did and I came with what I had left. Sleepiness covered my entire being, I tried to stay awake but I wasn't strong enough and I passed out.

Opening my eyes I couldn't see much as my eyes adjusted to the dark, becoming more aware of my surroundings I realized I was in my room and I was in different clothing too. Sitting up I reached for my lamp and turned it out, looking around my room nothing was out of place. It was dark outside and I was in the nightgown I wore last night with my bonnet on my head. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand and the time said 3:13.

"It was a nightmare. Thank god." I said out loud. Grabbing a half drank water I chugged the rest of it before falling back to sleep. Not noticing the grey jacket that was on the end of my bed or the figure that sat in my chair in the corner.

I wished I did.

[jingerhead]

I mean… 26 has to be andreil right…. I MEAN

If this one doesn't scream Neil then I don't know what does. TW for blood and Jack because Jack is an asshole (homophobic language?)

26 - hahaha no worries, it's not my blood

Neil had been distracted all practice, and he knew it showed.

Wymack had taken over directing the Foxes on what to do next after the third time Neil zoned out, more than once telling him to get his head in the game. But Neil couldn't manage it, which was strange, because exy was his life now. It was just that Andrew never got sick, and yet he was sick enough to have chills and a cough and a high fever.

This had never happened before, so Neil couldn't stop thinking about it. Despite his gut telling him to stay, he'd given in to Kevin and Andrew telling him to go to practice anyway, that he was the captain now, and that he had a responsibility to his team. And sure, Neil did, but they could manage without him.

For the first time in his life, Neil found himself wanting to take care of someone else. He wanted to be by Andrew's side, not because he had to be there, but because he wanted to be. He wanted to make Andrew some cocoa and get him cool towels to bring down his fever and measure out the Dayquil he was supposed to take.

That in itself was disorienting. On top of the fact that Andrew was sick enough to avoid practice? He used to play games while going through the early stages of withdrawal, if this was enough to convince him to take a day off, what the hell was it? Did he have to go to the hospital? Neil should've asked him for a list of symptoms before he left -

"Josten!"

Neil blinked and looked up at Wymack, who had his eyebrows drawn in and a disapproving look on his face. After a second, he just waved a hand and announced that practice was over for the day.

Neil had never been happy that practice was over. What the hell was going on with him? Was he sick?

He moved on autopilot to the locker room, deciding he'd shower back at the dorm and pulled off his gear as quickly as possible. He changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants and used a towel to wipe away the minimal amount of sweat on his skin, eager to get back.

But it would seem that life wasn't going to be easy to him today. Before Neil could slip away, Jack approached, looking far too pleased. He couldn't have anything good to say - not that Jack ever did in the first place.

"Off your game," Jack pointed out.

"A lot on my mind," Neil mumbled, throwing his shoes into his duffle bag and lacing up his sneakers as quickly as he could.

"About Minyard?" Jack asked. "What a shame he's sick. I'm sure he would've been happy to have practice end early."

Neil rolled his eyes, turning his back to Jack and grabbing his jacket. It was cold outside now that it was December, and Neil didn't want to risk getting sick if Andrew already was.

"You that eager to get back?"

Neil wasn't able to pull on his jacket just yet. He waited, because he knew that Jack was going to say something else, something that was going to set him off, because he was still processing that he felt this way at all about...about his something. Yeah, they were something, and whatever he and Andrew were was making Neil want to rush home and take care of him until he got better.

"Aw, you disappointed he can't breathe through his nose well enough to suck your cock?" Jack asked, lips twisted into a smirk.

Neil didn't think. He tucked his fingers into a fist and curled his thumb around them, and in a blink of an eye he twisted and punched Jack in his face. Jack didn't make a noise but stumbled back a step as blood immediately began to flow from his nostrils down his chin.

"Sorry, who couldn't breathe through his nose?" Neil sneered, hand still in a fist.

Jack let out a yell and rushed forward, but not with enough force to push Neil off his feet. The rest of the team was there in a second, pulling the two away from each other just as Wymack walked into the locker room. He let out a long sigh when he saw Jack's face.

"Go get that checked out," he said, jerking his thumb behind him. Jack angrily shook of the hands of his teammates and cupped his nose, stomping away. Wymack then turned to Neil, staring at him for a few seconds. "Cool it, Josten. Walk it off. We'll be talking about this tomorrow."

Everyone in the locker room backed away uneasily, letting Neil push through and rush to the Maserati. He didn't think about waiting for anyone else before driving back to the dorms, taking the steps two at a time to reach the dorm faster, only able to breathe easily once he finally closed the door.

Andrew was inside, leaning against the counter in their kitchenette and holding a mug of cocoa. Neil was almost disappointed to see he'd already made himself a cup, but he reasoned that Andrew would probably want another one later. He dropped his duffle bag and coat, attempting a smile in greeting.

"Blood," Andrew said, not meeting Neil's eyes.

Neil glanced down, seeing the impressive splotch of blood left on his shirt. He let out a hesitant laugh at the sight of it. "No worries," he said, walking closer to Andrew. "It's not my blood."

Andrew grabbed the hem of his shirt and drew it up enough to make sure Neil was telling the truth, his shoulders visibly drooping when he saw no injuries there. "You're back early," he said after a moment, looking up and dropping Neil's shirt.

"Coach had mercy on us."

"Or you caused trouble."

"Why does everyone always assume it's my fault?" Neil asked, leaning against the counter with a huff.

Andrew left that question unanswered. He grabbed his mug again and took a quick sip, sniffing a few times. Neil moved away from the kitchenette to grab a box of tissues, offering one out to Andrew when he came back. Andrew raised an eyebrow just slightly, but accepted the tissue.

"Go shower," he said. "You're still sweaty."

"Okay," Neil said, feeling himself smile once before turning to do as he was told.