#yeah yeah he’s a weirdo whatever he can’t waste time thinking about it

[pchelaus]

i read a rus fanfic once where for some chapters these two shared a body, not as in “Sock Opera”, they both have the same amount of control over the body. So i was thinking of an AU where bill somehow gets stuck in dipper’s body, idk maybe dipper touches bill’s statue several years after the wierdmageddon or (insert your own idea cus i have none). Now they have to figure out how to get rid of each other (i guess for the sake of this au there should be a reason bill can’t just kill dipper, let’s say he’s weak or maybe axolotl did give bill a second chance so he has to play nice), also bill may not be as helpful as expected because no way he will let pines family decide which way  they will dispose of him. Basically i just like to think of all the situations and interactions there can be with such set up

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter V

Song recommendation for this fic!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

A/N: Here’s another one for you guys! This is sooo high school cafeteria vibes 💀

•♥︎��♥︎•

“He’s such a disgusting little rat.” Sister Emily growled, poking her spoon into her food, seemingly annoyed by the Cardinal’s mere existence.

“He’s such a disgusting little rat.” Sister Emily growled, poking her spoon into her food, seemingly annoyed by the Cardinal’s mere existence.

“I know right? He’s just… such a pathetic dork.” Lilith agreed.

You felt a scowl growing on your face as you took another bite of cream-of-whatever soup. Celery, you think it was. But who could pay attention to the soup with the vile conversation around you?

“Kinda creepy too. He seems like a weirdo, ya know?” Mable added, gesturing with her spoon.

“Yeah I totally get that vibe too! I mean, anyone who keeps rats as pets must be kind of weird, right? He’s like… one of those creepy loners.” Ava giggled.

“Exactly! I bet those rats are his only friends.” Emily laughed. “You know, he’s kind of like a car crash. Awful to watch but you just can’t seem to look away.”

“Why do you guys hate him so much? I don’t get it.” You interjected, setting your spoon down and looking at your friends expectantly.

They stopped talking, glancing over to you before their eyes flicked to one another.

“What, like you don’t? I mean.. come on.” Mable scoffed.

“No, I don’t hate him at all, Mable. He hasn’t done anything to make anyone hate him.” You responded. “I actually think he’s really sweet.” You added, earning a barrage of incredulous scoffs from the other sisters.

“Ew, don’t even say that! He’s disgusting and stupid!” Emily shook her head indignantly. “He’s so clumsy and honestly he’s just painful to be around, always dropping things and st-st-st-stuttering like a f-f-fucking idiot.” She scoffed. “I can’t believe you’re wasting your time being nice to him when you could be spending time with Rob. He really likes you, y’know.”

“Ugh, I know! You’re so lucky. Satan only knows what we’d do to be in your position. Rob is so hot!” Ava sighed dreamily.

“I’m not wasting my time being nice to Copia…” You scoffed, not even knowing what the reasoning was behind that. “And honestly? Rob is just a-“

“Hey, girls!” Rob’s flirtatious tone sounded above the chatter in the dining hall, causing you to roll your eyes as you cut yourself off.

He tried to pull out the chair next to you, but you placed your hand on the seat to stop him from sitting. “Sorry, I’m saving this seat.” You stated simply. Rob only shrugged, walking to the other side of the long table to sit across from you.

“Who are you saving it for? Seems like the gang’s all here.” He asked, not even hiding the fact that he was checking you out.

“Cardinal Copia.” You responded casually, causing Rob to chuckle, as if it was some sort of joke.

“Is something funny?” You asked, growing irritated.

“Oh, you’re actually serious??” He snorted. “You know, between you and me, I don’t think Copia needs a chair. More like a giant rat trap.” He said, causing your friends to burst out laughing.

“That’s a rotten thing to say.” You frowned.

“Aw, come on, sweet cheeks, don’t be mad. Rob smiled. “Hey, when are you gonna hang out with me, by the way? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Um, we should all hang out!” Lilith suggested eagerly, the other sisters nodding rapidly in agreement.

“Don’t worry, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around! How about after lunch?” Rob grinned, but you only protested.

“No no, I’ll be busy, I have to work on Latin translations!” You made up an excuse. You were so preoccupied trying to avoid getting roped into hanging out with Rob, that you didn’t even notice Copia meandering into the dining hall with his little tray of soup.

He didn’t see you, instead going around to various tables to try to find a place to sit, but getting denied at all of them. Some of the siblings made up excuses like saving the seat for someone else, but others only gave him a dirty look and blatantly told him to go elsewhere.

“Sorry, no losers allowed.” A sister snapped, her whole table stifling laughter at Copia’s embarrassed expression.

“O-okay, eh, sorry..” He nodded timidly.

Your eyes widened as you recognized that pitiful little accent, immediately turning and spotting him.

“Cardinal!” You shouted, waving him over. “I saved you a seat!”

Almost everyone in the dining hall looked shocked that you wanted Copia to sit next to you, muttering amongst themselves about what someone like you could possibly want with someone like him.

A shy yet grateful smile found its way onto the Cardinal’s face as he began making his way to you. You sighed dreamily, gazing at him so fondly that you didn’t even catch what Rob was murmuring to Emily.

Just as Copia was passing Emily, she turned and stuck her foot out, tripping the man and causing him to fall forward, landing hard on the cold marble floor, soup spilling everywhere.

The poor man was stunned, barely registering what had even happened. After a few moments, he slowly picked himself up to sit on his knees, his gloved hands still firmly planted on the floor in front of him as his eyes were trained down at the spilled soup.

The whole dining room grew silent, except for judgemental whispers and hushed laughter.

The Cardinal felt tears welling heavy in his eyes at the humiliation, his heart aching as he heard the cruel comments and jokes from Rob and your friends. He always tried to remain positive and unfazed by the way he was treated, but in this moment he realized how much he was truly hated by everyone.

You were appalled; standing up so fast that your chair fell backwards as you knelt down next to Copia.

“Cardinal! Cardinal are you alright?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he was unresponsive, still in shock.

You scowled at your friends with hellfire in your eyes. “He could be Papa one day, you know!” You shouted.

They looked surprised at your anger, but didn’t show one ounce of remorse.

“Yeah, I really don’t think so.” Emily replied, seemingly amused.

You shook Copia gently, trying to get him to snap out of it. He blinked a few times, swallowing hard as you brought him out of his daze. But instead of responding to you, he only rushed to his feet and began scurrying out of the dining hall as quickly as he could, shoulders hunched in shame, cheeks reddened from humiliation as tears glittered in his mismatched eyes.

“Cardinal!” You called after him, ready to chase him down before turning to your friends.

“How could you?” You spat, not waiting for a response as you ran after Copia.

You caught up with him just as he turned the corner, his steps growing faster and faster.

“Cardinal, wait!” You caught his sleeve, pulling him to slow down. He stopped just enough for you to push him up against the wall, caging him in so he couldn’t run away from you. It broke your heart, the way he refused to meet your gaze, the way slow tears began rolling down his flushed cheeks as his lower lip quivered.

“Cardinal..” You pressed yourself against him, getting soup all over yourself too but you could hardly care, not when you were pulling his trembling form into you, cradling the back of his head with your hand.

He sniffled into your shoulder, weakly trying to escape your grasp so you wouldn’t have to see him like this; a broken man.

“Please don’t cry, Cardinal. Just- Look at me. Please.” You cupped his face in your hands, caressing his tear-stained cheeks. He finally did, then, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“Everything’s alright, Cardinal. Are- are you hurt?” Your voice soothed him.

The poor man shook his head no, his gaze flicking down to where your bodies were touching one another.

“Oh no, I… M-mi dispiace, I… I got soup all over you too.” He sighed in deep disappointment, as if it was his own fault; the lines on his forehead deepening with guilt and worry.

You lifted his chin with a gentle finger, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care.”

“Leave me, Sorella, go back to your amici.” Copia leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling before closing his eyes as more tears threatened to spill.

“Not a chance.” You shook him softly, getting the man to look at you once more.

“But-”

“Listen to me, Cardinal.” You brought your hands up to his face once more, wiping his tears away with your thumbs before they could streak his eye paint too horribly. “We’re going to go upstairs, get cleaned up, and change. And then we’re going to come back down here in time for dessert, alright?”

Panic flashed on Copia’s face as he began shaking his head and stuttering. “N-no, I… I-I can’t face them, Sorella.”

“I’ll be with you. I won’t leave your side, Cardinal, and we’ll act like nothing happened. You’ll see, it’ll be okay, I promise.” You reassured him, pulling him into a comforting hug as you pressed your cheek against his.

“Sorella, they-” He sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “Maybe they are right about me…” He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, shrugging hopelessly before averting his gaze.

“Well, my opinion of you is very favourable, Cardinal. So you shouldn’t believe a word they say.” Your hands smoothed up up up his chest, finding purchase on his shoulders and causing his breath to hitch at your touch and your words. He almost couldn’t believe his ears, that you of all people would think kindly of him. You were such a wonderfully nice girl, so he heavily suspected you were just trying to cheer him up, too sweet to admit out loud that he really was just a pathetic loser.

But that’s where Copia was wrong; you did acknowledge the fact that he was a pitiful, unloved, strange little rat man. But that’s exactly what got you going. That’s exactly the thing that kept you up at night, writhing around in your bed with your hand between your legs as you quietly mewled out his name.

“So, what do you say? Dessert?” You prompted him, softly rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

The poor thing only nodded, eyes wide and lower lip flushed from biting it too much. Now that he had calmed down, Copia was suddenly shy and overwhelmed at the close proximity between the two of you.

“Good.” You nodded, satisfied with his decision, taking his hand in yours as you walked towards the stairs together.

You refused to let the other siblings win. You refused to let them drive Copia out with their cruelty. If he gave in, letting their bullying chase him off, he would let them have their victory.

But you, well, you had your own brand of cruelty that you enjoyed inflicting on the man. You loved watching him squirm, looking like a deer in the headlights as you subtly drove him deeper into insanity. Satan, the more everyone made fun of Copia, the more you wanted him; his woeful paltriness igniting such a strong desire deep in your core. It made you want to fuck him in front of everyone; right in front of everyone who had ever called him names and laughed at him. Maybe you would. Maybe you’d beg him to bend you over the dessert table and fuck you dumb, taking his cock until you forgot your own name.

Deep in thought, the two of you silently made your way up the stairs, stopping when you came to Copia’s quarters.

“I’m gonna go change and I’ll meet you back here, okay? My room isn’t far.” You told him, earning a nervous nod and a timid “Okie dokie…”

•𖤐•

You stripped down, tossing your habit in the hamper before looking through your closet for another one to wear. Humming to yourself, you selected one that you had been meaning to wear more often, pulling it out and slipping it on.

It was tight, fitting you like a glove. The skirt was floor-length, flaring out slightly, with a ridiculously high slit on both legs. The habit itself had long sleeves and was low cut, but it had a crimson nun’s bib collar which covered your shoulders and neck, almost making it look like you had a peekaboo hole to show off your cleavage. On the neckpiece sat a diamond-encrusted grucifix, dangling from the collar. Also, this habit had red trim everywhere: lining the two leg slits, the hem, the cuffs on your wrists. Also, the whole inside of the skirt was red, so whenever you walked, the flowing fabric showed off the shock of gorgeous rich crimson.

It even had its own matching habit with red trim, and a red grucifix embroidered on the back, so you swapped yours out for that. It looked absolutely exquisite, you were a vision in black and red. You smirked in the mirror, almost fearing that poor Copia would suffer a heart attack at the mere sight of you.

Once you were finished dressing, you hurried back to his room, hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.

As if on cue, the Cardinal stepped out of the room, wearing his red cassock and biretta. A quiet little gasp tumbled from your lips. You had only ever seen him in his black cassock, so this was a real treat.

“Cardinal…” You greeted him, a lilt of flirtatiousness in your tone as you sauntered up to him.

He looked at you, mismatched eyes widening as he did a double take.

“S-S-Sorella..!” Copia gasped, his gaze darting all around, desperately trying not to gawk at you. But Lucifer knows it was hard; you were sex on legs. Looking at you without thinking sinful thoughts was an impossible task.

“Is something wrong, Cardinal? Do I look bad?” You feigned worry, batting your thick eyelashes innocently as you approached him.

“N-no, not at all…! You, eh, y-you look… very, very nice, Sorella…” He stammered, wringing his hands in front of him, heart hammering in his chest as you placed a dainty little hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” You were so coy, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. “You look quite… ravishing in red.” You bit your lip, looking him up and down while toying with the hem of his pellegrina.

“T-thank you…” Copia swallowed nervously as he couldn’t help staring at you, his burning cheeks deeply flushed to match his cassock.

“Ready?” You asked, taking his arm.

The Cardinal nodded, and together you made your way back to the dining hall.

•𖤐•

Before turning the corner to enter the hall, you felt Copia slowing down beside you, his anxiousness growing at the thought of facing the siblings once more. He felt like a rat reentering the serpents’ den.

You gave his arm a comforting squeeze, turning to look at him. “I’m right here.” You assured him.

Those beautifully odd eyes were so big sorrowful as they stared back at you. He was biting his lip again, looking like he had something to say to you.

“Sorella… Ehm.. You said that… You said that I could be Papa one day? What did you mean by that?” Copia asked, confused.

“You never know, Cardinal. I believe in you.” You replied, eyes soft and dreamy as you gazed at him.

After a moment of soaking in your words, Copia nodded, still not quite understanding why you were being so nice to him. However, he trusted you fully as the both of you finally entered the dining room once more, just in time for dessert like you had planned.

Every head in that whole damn dining hall whipped towards you, mouths falling open and eyes widening as they took in the stunning sight of you and your Cardinal. You hadn’t even coordinated your habit to match his cassock, but Lucifer below, the two of you looked like you stepped out of a delicious cherry and black liquorice dream.

The hall was silent, the clicking of your heels echoing as you strolled over to your seat. You could tell Copia was extremely nervous with the way everyone was staring, but you allowed your confidence to encompass the both of you, giving his arm another little reassuring squeeze to remind him that you weren’t going to let him drown.

The Cardinal may have been painfully awkward, but he was still a gentleman, pulling your chair out for you before sitting next to you.

“Well, don’t stop on our accord.” You looked to your friends, who were still in awe of you in that habit, and also surprised to see Copia having returned.

“Where… Um, where did you get that habit? I don’t think those are issued out by the ministry.” Emily asked. It looked like she wanted to be angry about how spectacular it looked on you, but she was just too surprised.

“Oh this? It was a gift, from Papa. He had it made for me.” You shrugged nonchalantly, grabbing two coffee cups for you and Copia.

Emily’s mouth opened to speak but no words came out at first. “R-really? He… had it made especially for you?”

“Yeah, isn’t that so sweet of him? He came into my room and even took my measurements himself.” You casually wove the image into her mind, leaving out certain details that would no doubt drive her mad later. Did he order you to strip so he could wrap that tape measure around you? And you know what they say about measuring the bust; nipple to nipple. Exactly how high did his hand go when he was measuring your inseam?

You hid your smirk, knowing these questions would surely plague her every time she looked at Terzo.

“Cream?” You turned to Copia.

“S-si, please.” He nodded.

“Say when.” You told him, beginning to pour.

And pour.

And pour.

“Eh… When.”

Sweet Satan, this man didn’t like cream with his coffee, he liked coffee with his cream.

“Sugar?” You questioned, to which Copia asked for two.

You popped two sugar cubes into his cup, giving it a stir and pushing it to him.

“Grazie, Sorella.” He shyly thanked you, taking a small sip while you fixed your own cup.

You could feel Rob’s eyes on you as you looked over the numerous tiered dessert trays, placing some little pastries onto your plate.

Knowing that he was watching intently, you just couldn’t help your next move.

“Mm, Cardinal, you need to try this, it’s one of my favourites!” You chirped, holding a little cream-filled peach pastry up to his lips.

The poor man’s blush was creeping to the tips of his ears as he leaned in and cautiously took a bite, accidentally brushing his lips against your fingers. Once he pulled away, you popped the other half into your mouth, humming at the taste as you licked your fingers.

The Cardinal felt weak, so dizzyingly weak from you; a shock coursing through him as you placed a hand on his thigh, leaning forward towards the table and reaching for another pastry. It didn’t help that you kept carelessly kicking your leg back and forth under the table, your foot brushing up against Copia’s leg each time. Any sort of contact with you flustered him to the point that it was nearly painful.

Soon enough, your group of friends began talking normally once more, neither being mean to Copia nor acknowledging him at all.

Rob was right in the middle of trying to be ‘smooth’ and flirt with you when your eyes drifted to Copia, grinning endearingly as he shoved another pastry into his mouth. He looked a bit sad, his kissable lips pulled into a frown, eyes flicking to Rob and the way he was so obviously trying to pick you up. Satan, the Cardinal didn’t think you actually liked Rob back, did he?

“So, since we learned all about lust and rituals in class, I thought that maybe we could-” Rob just wouldn’t shut up, despite you looking uninterested in his loathsome advances.

You bit your lip, eyes locking on the thick smudge of frosting gracing the corner of Copia’s mouth. Scooting your chair closer until your leg was brushing against his, he looked towards you just as you reached up to wipe it away, bringing your hand to your lips and sucking the sweet, creamy frosting off your finger.

Poor sweet little Cardinal. His breath hitched in his throat, the hot blush on his cheeks nearly glowing by this point. You could practically feel the scorching heat radiating off him.

“Yum.” You licked your lips coquettishly; your hand trailing from his shoulder, down his arm, and mindlessly settling on his thigh once more.

“Sorry, you were saying?” You asked, turning back to Rob and noticing the other sisters’ wide eyes on you.

“Uh.. well- nevermind…” Rob sniffed, trying to play it cool as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Cardinal, are you feeling okay?” You cooed, returning your attention to the man and inching even closer. He was stunned, lips still parted in shock at your little stunt.

“Your face is the same colour as your cassock.” You giggled, brushing the back of your finger against his face. Your hands were always cold, so the sensation gave him some relief. However, the all-consuming fire of nervousness continued to torment him ruthlessly as you gently doted on him in front of everyone.

“O-oh..! Eh.. ehm- I-I’m okay, si…” Copia nodded, not quite convinced that he even was okay. How mortifying, that everyone could see the blush on his face.

“You’re so hot, Cardinal.” You remarked, biting your lip and pressing your cool hands against his cheeks, forehead, even lightly tugging at his collar for him. The poor timorous little mouse didn’t even realize that you meant it in both senses of the word.

“Enjoy this moment, Cardinal. Probably the only time you’ll ever hear those words being spoken to you.” Emily sneered, causing Rob to let out an amused snort, the other sisters covering their mouths to stifle a cacophony of laughter.

Copia flinched, looking meek as ever, her words cutting deeply into his gentle heart. But then you were looping your arms around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze as you looked toward Emily.

“Hm, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He’s kinda cute.” You teased. The Cardinal’s eyes widened as he stiffened, looking so pitifully astounded that he almost seemed fearful.

“Well, if you think rats are cute then sure!” She retorted, words dripping in passive aggression.

“I actually think rats are very cute.” You responded simply, taking everyone- including Copia- by surprise. “With their big eyes,” your gaze flitted to the Cardinal’s eyes. “their pointy noses,” your eyes flicked to his nose, “their cute little whiskers.” you grinned dreamily, looking at his moustache.

Copia thought he was going to pass out. Were you trying to convey what he thought you were trying to convey, or was it just pure coincidence? No, no, it had to be a coincidence. No one as beautiful as you would ever be attracted to him, it would be impossible. Illogical. Nonsensical. Completely and utterly mad.

The Cardinal shuddered out a tense little exhale, his chest tight with anxiety as he inwardly scolded himself. He was going crazy, he just had to be. Satan below, he felt like such a dirty old man for even thinking of the mere possibility of you meaning anything by that. He was unlovable; he always had been and he always would be.

“Whatever you say, Sister. Perhaps you should schedule an appointment with the eye doctor.” Emily sighed, feigning concern for you.

“Yeah maybe you should, babe. How many fingers am I holding up?” Rob asked, holding up two fingers.

“My eyes are fine, thanks. How many fingers am I holding up?” You shot back with an amused smirk, flipping Rob off.

Your friends gasped at your actions before giggling, not taking it to heart as they found your quick wit and sassiness quite amusing, even when you were using it against them.

The Cardinal was absolutely shocked by your brazenness. You were this gorgeous goddess of a girl, so graceful and poised, yet borderline presumptuous in the way you kept people in line. And Copia greatly admired you for it; the way you were the exact opposite of him. Where he had no self esteem, you were bursting with confidence; where he was shy, you were bold. He always felt himself drowning in anxiety, being reduced to nothing more than a shy, stuttering idiot. It was a mystery how you always kept yourself so effortlessly cool.

“Anyway, I’ll have to remember how warm you are next time the heating gives out, maybe you can keep me from freezing all night.” You hummed thoughtfully, finally pulling away from Copia. You kept your voice casual and innocent as could be, as if you didn’t quite understand how inappropriate it would be to have him sleeping in your bed.

The Cardinal- who had relaxed considerably once you pulled away from him- stiffened sharply once more. It didn’t go unnoticed, the way his head shot up, mismatched eyes widening, mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to speak.

“S-si, eh.. P-perhaps.” He bit his lip, staring down into his cup of coffee. It was ironic, usually the Cardinal was always a bit cold; it was just you who got him all hot and bothered.

You smirked at his torment, twirling a lock of hair around your little finger. But your hair wasn’t the only thing wrapped around your little finger. You had Copia all wound up too.

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine @ramblingoak @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @angelconservation @yourlocalghouleh @gh0sty6 @nikolaiology @thenick100 @mothsdraw @ivyanddaisies @gothdaddyissues @moonlight-fern @copiaslittleratty @nocturnal-birb @creepyalbatross @lightbluuestars @delta-is-here @1kirby1 @dawnghoul @kyberj @esmiephan @not-ya-girl @notmanagingmymischief

[hannahssimblr]

“Is that everything? Any petrol or diesel?”

“No... Actually, do you’ve something for bug bites?”

“Like, that insect repellent stuff or some kind of topical cream?”

“The repellent, please.”

“I think we have it,” the woman at the till goes to the shelves behind her while I lean across to watch as she rummages through rows of suncream and painkillers. 

“It’s the midges,” I say conversationally, “They eat me alive, see I think I’ve really delicious blood.”

“They’re annoying alright,” she scans a bottle of Jungle Formula and packs it into a plastic bag along with all of the junk food I’ve just bought. “That it?”

I scan the shelves quickly, “oh, actually, can I have a box of those too?”

She glances over her shoulder, “Condoms?”

“Yeah, please.”

She eyes me up, “Are you seventeen?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not sure you are.”

“Do I have a right to buy them?”

“I have a right to refuse if I don’t think that you’re the age of consent.”

“Respectfully I’m going to get them from somewhere whether you refuse or not,” she narrows her eyes to slits but I give her a big smile so that she can’t be angry, “Or if you want I’ll just not use protection and it’ll be your fault my life is ruined.”

“Do you have ID?”

“Why would I have ID? I’m seventeen.”

She snatches and tosses a box across the counter at me, “Fine, there you go, because I know well that you’d stand here all day and hold up the queue just by the look of you, you cheeky bollox. That’ll be Twenty three thirty altogether.”

“Yeah, no issue,” I slot my dad’s credit card into the machine and stab in his digits. I see her watching it, a weighted, black metal platinum visa, and it’s definitely obvious that it isn’t mine, but she doesn’t know my circumstances, and anyway I know that my dad would have given me money if I had felt like talking to him today, but I didn’t. Borrowing from his wallet is the same thing. 

I glance at the shopkeeper one last time before leaving, “What are the chances you’d score me a pack of cigarettes?”

“Get lost.”

I’m checking my text messages on the way out of the shop, so I don’t see the man walking in the opposite direction. We bump shoulders in the doorway and I mutter an apology before looking up and realising who I have just collided with. 

His nostrils flare as he looks me up and down, and as I stand and look cooly back at him I wonder if he gets off, like genuinely gets off on the idea of how threatening he thinks he is. 

“You’re a friend of Clóda?” He says.

“Yeah, and you are?”

“Her father.”

“Oh right, yeah. I guess I never made the connection.” I thought you were just some weirdo glaring over at us in the Boat Club, is what I want to add but I’m not sure I’m feeling entirely suicidal today. 

He stares me down until I feel my skin prickle, and when his eyes find my bag of shopping, including the Durex box pressing label-out through the translucent plastic his face turns a ferocious shade of puce. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“And who are your parents?”

“Christopher and Colette, who are yours?”

“None of your business,” He splutters, “Are you one of those young fellas who hangs about in the caravan parks?”

“So what if I was?”

“Well my daughter is a hard worker, she’s busy at her job and I’d rather she wasn’t being distracted or having any of her time wasted.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“So if you wouldn’t mind steering clear of the Boat Club when she’s working, I’d rather you not hanging about and causing complaints from the customers.”

“Oh the customers complain about me, do they?”

He wrinkles his nose, “We prefer to uphold a certain standard at the club.”

My skin prickles, “So basically you don’t want anyone who looks like they stay in the caravan parks hanging around and making it look cheap.”

“That’s not an unreasonable request, especially since you don’t exactly dine with us, do you?”

I’m walking away already, “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“Yep.”

On the shortcut through a holiday park I furiously kick a stone out of my way. Then a piece of rubbish. Then I spot a ceramic flower pot by the entrance to the communal showers and I kick that too, knocking it to the side and splitting it in two, and the soil spills out and the plant slumps to the tarmac. It looks pathetic so I kick it again. 

Suddenly a tennis ball comes from nowhere and whacks me in the back with a thunk. I whirl around, “Hey!”

“Hey yourself!” Kelly grabs another ball and flings it at me, and I duck as it wallops into the wall behind me. I grab and fling it back, “What’s your problem, Kelly?”

“What’s my problem?” She shrieks as she dodges it, “What’s your problem?”

“What is it with you and your brother throwing tennis balls at me, huh? What did I do now?”

She hurls another, “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh! Walking!”

“Well stay out of my caravan park. Go the long way around.”

“Your caravan park? Kelly, if this is about the frog in your hair-”

“The frog? Fuck your frog,” she lets out a tiny squeal as she jumps out of the path of the ball I’ve flung back, “and fuck you, by the way.”

“Fuck me? Fuck you Kelly, I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Suck my dick!” She spins on her heel and stalks away and I watch her for a minute, bewildered, until she disappears between a couple of mobile homes and then, when she’s fully gone and I am alone with the broken flower pot again, I pick up my overturned bag of goodies and shake my head. 

“Little weirdo.”

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[comradekatara]

They're blind if they don't see that about Sokka! Like. The other three kids would blatantly waste DAYS at a time, despite their very tight time limit, on whatever random bullshit captures their fancy. They literally planned vacations and even he got caught up in it but like......it's absolutely herding cats. You even see this problem in miniature, with Toph having to constantly hound Aang into earthhbending training. They're all flighty n distractible ish and avoidant in their own ways but Aang is very much the worst and yet also the most prioritised member who overrules Sokka regularly "for fun".

yeah I mean i was just so confused by that response bc it was such a bad faith misreading of what I had actually said, and also just a blatantly incorrect reading of the text??? I think a large swath of this fandom has a very surface level interpretation of the show (which is understandable, most people are not as invested in understanding the nuances of this show while still enjoying it, thats perfectly fine) while also just cherry picking the parts they like/latch onto and distorting the parts they found less compelling to suit whatever narrative they’ve crafted for themselves. which I suppose is their prerogative as audience members, but it’s frustrating to me as someone who thinks analytic work should always stem from understanding the text as holistically and completely as possible. normally I try to ignore such misinterpretations, since if I didn’t I would literally get no sleep, and yknow, I have a life. but i could see people’s tags in my activity feed turning this argument into a moral issue in which my very character was attacked (someone literally said “comradekatara and their followers are bs” which makes it sound like im running a cult or smth. yikes) and so I felt the need to clarify and defend myself in a way that I usually don’t when angry zutarapilled weirdos go on and on about how evil I am lmfao

anyway, to your point, sokka is absolutely herding cats. he is constantly trying to get them to be as economical with their time and stay as safe as possible, and they just straight up refuse to listen to him. I see people make arguments that sokka “wasted time on kyoshi island” by training with suki, but a) I don’t think receiving formal training for like the first time in his life is a waste of time and b) aang was clearly the one who insisted on staying there, sokka would’ve left whenever, but aang really liked it there, and considering this was right after he discovered that his entire people had been wiped out, it’s not exactly like sokka and katara can be like “no more fun for you!” the only other instances i can think of of sokka wasting their time is in “the ember island players” when he makes them all go spend two hours watching a play that they absolutely loathe. in fairness, I think sokka and suki should’ve realized that their friends (besides toph) would not enjoy such an event, but the episode would be way less effective if it had been just them watching it, so for metatextual reasons I’ll let it slide. (and fwiw, sokka’s training with piandao took two, three days at most, so it clearly wasn’t smth that interfered with the schedule.)

so yeah, my original point about sokka herding cats seems pretty obvious to me considering how many detours aang and katara constantly insist on taking (and arguably toph too, but she’s generally less resistant to sokka’s ideas). but then that person had to go and act like I said something I didn’t, and then add on a bunch of incorrect analysis to boot. truly, genuinely, weird behavior. the “momtara who does all the work and singlehandedly raised these children including sokka and has never once had fun in her life because she is struggling under the weight of being the most mature & reasonable fourteen year old girl who ever lived (and also that’s why this one spoiled prince who can’t even hammer a single nail would be such a good boyfriend for her because he loves doing dishes and is so emotionally intelligent & articulate)” koolaid is strong I guess.

[dearestdaffodils]

Stranger Things Series Rewrite; Season 1, Episode 3

A/N: I, of course, do not own anything from or related to Stranger Things. Scenes, events, and dialogue are taken from the show; I am not trying to take credit for the work that the writers for this show did. Some scenes may be left out if I cannot find a way to work the reader in as a character.

Warnings for the whole series: Violence, Gore, Profanity, Alcohol, Drugs, Smoking, Frightening Scenes, some canon divergence 

“So, now I’m stuck babysitting another kid and this one had superpowers?” I mutter to myself, watching El move around the basement with the boys. 

El picks up one of the D&D miniatures, the wizard. “Will.” 

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike questions. 

El quickly sweeps the D&D board clear, flipping it over so the black underside is facing up. She places the wizard in the center. “Hiding.” 

“Will is hiding?” I speak up from the stairs, watching as El nods. “From the bad men?” She shakes her head this time. “Then from who?” 

El grabs another miniature and sets it on the board. 

I stare in shock at it. 

The Demogorgon. 

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

“We just… tell our parents we have AV Club after school.” Mike shrugs. “That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.”

“You seriously think the weirdo knows where Will is?” Lucas glances at El. 

“Lucas, just trust Mike on this one. Okay?” I sigh. 

“Did you get the supplies?” Mike asks, watching as Lucas starts to pull items out of his backpack. 

“And finally… the wrist rocket!” Lucas beams, pulling the slingshot out last. 

“You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?” Dustin and I ask in unison. 

“First of all, it's a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real.” Lucas argues. 

“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike turns his attention to the other boy. 

Dustin grins, dumping the contents of his bag onto the table. “Well, alrighty. So we’ve got… Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.” 

“Seriously?” Lucas frowns. 

“We need energy for our travels. For our stamina.” Dustin argues. “And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway? We have her!” He gestures to El. 

“She shut one door!” Lucas huffs. 

“With her mind!” Dustin whines. “Are you kidding me? That’s insane! Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do!” He grins. “Plus, you know… we have Y/N.” He glances at me. “She’s pretty handy with a baseball bat.” 

“Not to brag, but D is right.” I stand up from the stairs. “We’re more than covered for whatever we encounter out there.” 

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

I pant, jogging after the boys on their bikes as El leads the way. I slow to a walk, looking ahead at the Byers' house. 

“Here.” El turns to look at Mike. 

“Yeah, this is where Will lives.” Mike glances at the house. 

“Hiding.” El whispers. 

“No, no, this is where he lives.” I move closer to the younger girl. “He’s missing from here. Understand?” 

“What are we doing here?” Lucas sighs.

“She said he’s hiding here,” Mike murmurs. 

“Um… no!” Lucas frowns. 

“I swear if we biked all the way out here for nothing--” Dustin starts. 

“That’s exactly what we did! I told you she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about!” Lucas shouts angrily.

“El, why did you bring us here?” I ask gently. 

“Y/N, don’t waste your time with her.” Lucas groans. 

“What do you want to do then?” I snap at him. “Will is missing! I can’t- we can’t… You boys are like my kids…” I mutter. “One of you is missing, I need to find him.” 

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

I sprint down the hill, following the sound of police sirens. Skidding to a halt behind a firetruck, I peek out at the crowd. 

Dustin grabs my arm, peeking around me as Lucas, Mike, and El gather around to watch as the crowd starts to pull something out of the water. 

“It’s not Will…” I whisper. “It can’t be.”

“It’s Will.” Lucas’ voice is thick with tears. “It’s really Will.”

“Boys, it’s time to go…” I whisper, ushering them back to their bikes. 

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

The car is silent as I drive, glancing at Dustin every so often.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay tonight?” Dustin whispers, crying softly. 

I nod, wiping my eyes with the cuff of my jean jacket. “I need some time to process, D,” I whisper. “We all do. I just need a couple of days.” 

Dustin nods, quickly leaning across the seat to hug me around the middle. He hiccups, crying into my jacket. 

I reach down, cupping the back of his head with my hand. I slowly stop the car in front of Dustin’s house, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve got you, D.” I whisper, rubbing his back. 

He sniffles, leaning into me. “I’ve got you too, Y/N.” 

I smile sadly, gently flicking the brim of his hat. “Always?”

“And forever.” Dustin answers, sliding out of the car. 

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

I sigh, exhaling smoke as I tip my head back. “How the fuck am I supposed to process this?” I mutter. “I mean, Will was like… those boys are everything to me.” 

“You’re not alone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, holding me in his lap. “You have Mike, Lucas, and Dustin… and me.” 

I sigh, nodding my head. “Yeah, I know. It's just… it's Will… I can’t even imagine how Joyce and Jonathan are feeling right now.” 

Eddie presses a kiss to my temple, holding me close. “We’ll stop by tomorrow and see if we can help out, yeah? Let’s just rest for now.” 

“Yeah… okay…” I whisper, laying my head against his chest.

taglist: 

@wayfaring----stranger​ @themarvelousbee​ @balanceofgray​ @mochas-rambles​ @efvyqrs​ @10minutesofscreentime​ @allie-mcginn​ @poguebaby @short-potato​ @wh0re4harrington​ @jinxed-jk​ @seggsyswagger @nothanksdidntask @tenkomybeloved​

@byebyebikinisss​ @hellfirebabes​ ​

[lillytregellas]

Finney and Robin one shot :))

my first plus im dyslexic so pls let me know if anythings spelt wrong

Incoherent shouts could be heard coming from behind Finney as he rushed through the threshold of the Grab And Go doorway.As he pushed through,the sudden rush of warm air was intoxicating compared to the bitter cold of the streets outside,and finney welcomed it happily.After quickly relishing in the moment of warmth he turned to look from side to side to,to see if he could find the closest hiding spot,being that he’s such a small kid it wasn’t a hard task.

He ran through the small busy gatherings of people quickly apologising as he went to the less crowded back of the shop but the voices were still just as loud.

Still he pressed on,in a last ditch effort to escape he hastily skidded around the corner silently praying they couldn’t see but of course his efforts didn’t work it never did for finney.

“Hey i saw him just turn left at the bottom of the isle!”

Realising he’s now backed himself into a corner he just sat and waited like a lamb to slaughter.It was an all too familiar feeling and frankly one that he didn’t like.He’d always wished he stronger and more capable of fending for himself and not always feeling so incapable and like he had to rely on other people to fight his battles for him but then again he wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place if that was the case.At the moment he always seemed to feel like he was in this position like he was stuck or that this was a reoccurring nightmare ,from cowering at home from his dad to right now from moose and his gang ,but no this was his dismal reality no matter how much it sucked.

His train of thought was quite rudely interrupted by the screeching sound of wet sneakers skidding to a halt on the cold shop floor and the loud menacing laughs coming from Moose now just a metre in front of him and a choir of giggles from the 3 others behind him ,at finneys’ exasperated yet nervous expression.

Sneering Moose began “There’s nothing you can do Finney,nowhere for you to weasel your way out of this time,no pathetic boyfriend to defend you”

“Don’t talk about Robin like that”

“Why?we all know you can’t do anything ,besides he’s just a worthless little f*g like you”

An uproar of laughs came from the 3 behind him as Finneys eyes started to narrow and the painful feeling in his chest worsened.

A snickering voice from behind Moose started“Yeah i mean honestly you’re just such a waste of space, why does Robin even hang out with you ?, your so frail a fucking strong gust of wind could push you over and lets be honest he only hangs out with you for homework answers and because he feels sorry that you have no friends”

Another snide voice joins in “you’re actually such an embarrassment its funny”

And another”yeah no wonder your dad beats you ,i would too”

Now Moose again “he doesn’t actually care about you finney but now that doubly sucks for you ,i mean ,he got us in trouble for beating you and then beat us so now we have to beat you don’t you see the cycle? ,i thought you would’ve just let us since your dad does it anyway ,but looking at you now i don’t know if i can even be bothered ,but whatever it will still be fun, beats watching Vance play pinball ”

Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists tightly small but painful tears began to roll down his cheeks.The worst part was that Finney agreed with them,why would someone as cool and funny and quite frankly as pretty as Robin hang out with him of all people?what was special about Finney?nothing that’s what he’s just a loser;a weirdo,a freak worst of all a f*g.How they can tell he likes Robin has always been a mystery to him well other than that how could you not like Robin he’s gorgeous and knows how to fight and draw and is surprisingly smart just not at math.It doesn’t really matter what finney thinks of him anyway its not like he has a chance.How could he?.Robins normal he’s not a f*g.

The roaring sound of laughter and a now tight choke hold grip on his neck sharply brought Finneys attention back to the dreary room.

“Look lads he’s crying”

“What a wuss”

“Alright Finney get ready to go run to your shitty little boyfriend about your bullies again ”

But before Moose could do anything a sudden recognisable voice joined in the conversation.Finneys eyebrows tightly nit together No.it couldn’t be.how did he know he was here?.

“Hey Finn what’s happening?”

Oh thank god.

“Oh you know Robin just keepin on keepin on”

The tight feeling in his chest ever so slightly eased .

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Hi! I'm the anon that asked for any requests you are comfortable or not with, first of all, thanks for answer my question! And second, would you be so kind to write about a male villain confessing his feelings to a female hero with some sexual tension in the middle and then if you want that the thing ends up in something nsfw, please?^^

Request #24

Warning: nsfw.

Man, this one came out long, but I'm hella happy with it! Also, having the characters have different genders really made the writing easier, so I'm probably gonna be doing that more often, lmao.

Enjoy, dear anon!

~~~~

"Ugh! Why are you like this?!" - Hero exclaimed, frustrated as she threw another punch in the villain's direction. He dodged it with ease and caught her wrist, swiftly bringing her closer and landing a hit on her face.

Disoriented, the hero couldn't do anything as Villain pinned her against the wall, her arms held above her head. They were both panting, gasping for air from the exhausting fight that had led them to this point. She tugged at her wrists, trying to break free, but his grip was unyielding.

"Why am I like what?" - the villain asked, making Hero's blood boil even more.

"Don't play dumb!" - she growled out, snarling angrily. "You've been doing this shit for weeks now!"

Before Villain could question her more, the hero lunged her head forward and bit him on the face, catching him off guard. His grip loosened, and his nemesis was quick to take advantage of it. She freed her arms, grasped onto him, and threw them both to the ground.

They thrashed around, rolling all over the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse they were in until eventually, Hero found herself on top of her enemy, straddling his hips, pinning down his wrists on either side of his head.

Now, even more tired, they glared at each other. The woman decided to voice her frustrations further. "Every. Fucking. Day." - she started.

"Every fucking day, you've been doing whatever you can to waste my time and force me out into the field."

The villain grit his teeth. "I'm not doing this to waste your time."

"Oh, yeah? Then why-" - the hero was never able to finish talking as Villain jutted his hips and threw her off balance. He rolled them both over, swapping their places so that he was on top.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" - the villain exclaimed without thinking, too frustrated to think twice before speaking.

She gaped at him, trying to understand his words. "You-? W-What?"

He faltered, regret starting to eat away at him. He should not have said that. He should not have said-

They switched places again. Hero was on top of Villain, and- ah, shit- he hadn't realized just how close she was- how- how intimate this felt...

A blush threatened to take over his face, but he fought against it, successfully keeping it at bay. Or at least, he was successful until the hero decided to hover her face right in front of his own.

Suspicious, she questioned, "What do you mean you 'wanted to see me?'"

"I- I uh..." - what the hell was happening?! Since when did he stutter?! He couldn't come up with a reasonable answer, and he refused to tell the truth. So, he just shut his mouth.

She waited a few more seconds, hoping he would answer. But silence and shifty eyes were all that she got.

"Villain, c'mon! What is up with you recently?" - Hero tried again, but the villain still refused to talk. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

Annoyed, she held down his wrists with one hand while the other grabbed his chin, tilting his head and catching his attention. Their eyes locked, and she swore his pupils were more dilated than usual.

"You've just been acting so weird lately! And, I- I just-" - she stopped, furrowing her eyebrows as she got lost in thought. Was... Was Villain blushing? This was all so- so unlike him!

His pupils are wide, he doesn't want to look at her, and he said he was doing all of this because he 'wanted to see her?' What did any of this mean?! And what the hell is poking her in the-

Oh

A blush assaulted her face as the dots suddenly connected, her lips forming into a thin line as she looked down at their touching crotches.

She looked back at him. His face was even brighter, a look in his eyes.

Oh

Hero's brain scrambled to break the silence, but her words did not want to cooperate. "I- Do- Do you- Are you-"

"I like you!" - Villain blurted out. He could feel the sweat going down the side of his face as the hero above him became stunned.

"I- I really uh- really like you." - he said again.

Breaking out of her daze, she responded, "Uh... Yeah, I- I can tell."

...

Holy shit, this was awkward.

...

The hold on his chin had loosened at some point, and he looked away again. She broke the silence once more. "How long?"

He almost choked on his spit, looking back to her. "H-Huh?"

"How long have you uh... had feelings for me?"

Oooh, right.

"I- I don't know..." - he admitted. "It just... kind of... happened somewhere along the line...?"

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. Oh, God, what will she say? This is the part where she calls him a weirdo and runs away, isn't it?

"It's... nice to know I'm not the only idiot around here then."

...

"What?"

Clearing her throat, Hero shily muttered, "I- I like you too."

Villain was pretty sure his brain had just short-circuited. Did- Did he hear that right?

"I- You- You like me back?"

She nodded in reply. He was still shocked that this was happening. What were they supposed to do now? Fight? He didn't really want to fight. He had some... other activities on the mind.

Sighing internally, Villain did his best to collect his thoughts. Someone had to move this conversation forward, and it seemed like the hero wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Do you... still want to fight?" - he asked. She looked at him a bit puzzled before her equally fried mind caught up. "I mean- I just... don't really feel like it anymore."

"Uh... Y-Yeah, alright." - she responded, releasing her grip and carefully moving off him so that their crotches wouldn't brush against one another. The villain sat up, and they both remained there on the ground, playing with the dust to keep themselves distracted.

...

It was quiet again. Villain almost groaned, angry with himself. He wanted to say something, but- How was he supposed to say this? It's not like he could just-

"Do you wanna fuck?" - Hero suddenly blurted out, and he sputtered, unable to respond like a functioning human being.

She panicked a bit. "S-Sorry! Uh- Too- Too forward?"

"Y-Yes! I- I mean no! I- I mean-" - he buried his face in his hands. Why was this so difficult?! He was an adult! Both of them were!

Wait- An adult, yes! Just- Think, Villain. How would a sensible adult proceed in this situation?

He uncovered his eyes, taking a look around. They were both on the ground, covered in sweat, dirt, and decades-old dust. They had gotten some good hits on each other, so they had some bruises and cuts.

So, if they were to... have sex - he still couldn't believe this was happening - the most responsible thing to do would probably be... going elsewhere...? But where? To one of their houses, perhaps?

Villain sighed audibly, catching the hero's attention. "Do you... want to come over to my place?"

Her eyes widened, and her face burned brighter at his question. He added frantically, "O-Or we could go to your place! Or- Or no place at all! We could just forget this ever happe-!"

He froze as fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. He looked at her again. She smiled nervously before saying, "W-We can't forget about this. We could try, but..."

Her eyes traveled up and down his body quickly, studying him, and he couldn't help but shiver under her gaze. "...I'm pretty sure we would both fail miserably."

She pulled her hand back, and he already missed her touch.

"So..." - she started. "...Your place...?"

"S-Sure." - Villain managed to answer. He lifted himself off the ground and offered her his hand, which she took. Upon pulling her up, their bodies lightly collided, Hero's hands landing on his chest to steady herself and one of the villain's hands catching her by the waist. They silently stood there for a moment, blushing as if they had never touched another person, before swiftly separating.

With some awkward coughs and clearing of throats, they were on the move again, working together so they wouldn't get seen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"This is your house?" - the hero asked, looking around. The tension between them had eased a bit since they left the warehouse. "I won't lie, I always imagined it to be... a lot less normal than this."

Villain snorted at that. "What, were you expecting red string and cork boards?"

She didn't answer, only biting the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms, making him chuckle a bit before getting back on track. He led her through the house, arriving at a bathroom. "I think it'd be best if we got cleaned up a bit since we've been rolling around in dirt and whatnot all day."

"Why, Villain. Are you being responsible?" - Hero asked playfully. He gave her an "Oh- shush." before showing her where everything was. A smile crept onto his face regardless; he had missed their casual banter.

"Now, I have another bathroom upstairs connected to my bedroom, so once you're done, you can uh... you can join me... I guess..."

"Smooth." - she replied teasingly, getting a blush from him. "I got one more question, though."

"Yes?"

She grinned, looking forward to his reaction. "What am I supposed to wear?"

Villain seemed to freeze for a moment before it registered in his brain that Hero did not, in fact, have any spare clothing to put on. His blush worsened tenfold, and she laughed.

Through her giggles, she asked, "Do you want me to just come upstairs nake-?"

"Bathrobe! Yup! There's uh- There's one right there!" - he blurted out, not letting her finish. She looked to where he was pointing, and there was indeed a bathrobe hanging there, next to some towels.

She gave another small chuckle. "Alright."

Turning back to him, she lightly bit her lip and gave him a look, tracing a finger along his jawline. "But you better wear one too~."

Hero didn't realize a person could blush this badly. For the poor villain's sake, she kept her giggles in this time, letting him respond. "Y-You got it!"

With that, Villain left. He walked out calmly, but a few seconds later, she still heard him sprint down the hall and couldn't keep her laughter to herself.

As he moved up the stairs - way too quickly for it to be normal - he silently cursed himself. Why was he acting like such an idiot?! He had sex before! This was nothing new!

No, no, it's not that this was new or something. It wasn't his fault! It was Hero's!

Hero with her stupid smile that made his knees weak, and her dumb laughter that made his heart flutter, and- and...

...

Has Villain ever felt like this before? Has he ever... fallen for someone like this?

Perhaps before he had become the villain, but... that was a long time ago. He no longer remembered anything from that part of his life. He only remembered the now. He only remembered his fights with Hero.

As he arrived at his bedroom's bathroom, he smiled. The woman really had taken over his mind, hadn't she? She was incredible, no other like her. And amazingly enough, she returned his feelings too.

The villain stripped free of his ruined clothing and hopped into the shower. Rubbing soap onto his dirtied skin, he pondered on that thought. Did she truly feel the same way? What if this was... just some elaborate trick...?

He faltered for a moment, having not considered such an option. What if the hero wanted to catch him off guard...? While he was vulnerable...?

He shook his head. No, that couldn't be the case. He knew her. He knew how her real laughter sounded. He knew how she looked when she was acting, pretending to be happy. And this... this was no act.

Hero loved him back.

Villain knew that. His mind just enjoyed tormenting him sometimes.

As he scrubbed at his scalp and hair, he returned to the present. Hero was here, in his house, and they were basically about to have sex together. His face flushed red again as another thought crossed his mind. Who...

Who would be on top...?

...

Honestly, the villain was fine with being either but... he'd be lying if he said Hero didn't look hot as hell on top of him.

Dear Lord, he was getting turned on just thinking about how she had pinned him down earlier.

...

He really needed to get out of the shower already. Getting back on track, he fully rinsed himself and turned the water off. Hurriedly, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. Once done with that, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe identical to the one downstairs. It was soft and warm. It helped calm him.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the door's handle and opened it. Upon doing so, Villain was met with the sight of Hero casually lying on his bed, loosely wrapped in her bathrobe. He could see her cleavage and- shit, he was staring-

Looking away and clearing his throat, he closed the bathroom door.

"Took your sweet time in there, huh?" - she asked with that playful expression back on her face once more. The villain went to respond, but she smirked and continued. "Didn't start the fun without me, did you~?"

"N-No." - he said, and she chuckled at his nervousness. Why was he like this? This was his house and his bed that Hero was lying on! She was just being so confident and... and taking charge and...

She grinned wider, amused as she looked at his crotch. He also looked.

...

Shit.

Well, if that didn't make it obvious he was enjoying this...

...

He looked back up at Hero, and she wiggled her finger at him, beckoning him to come and join her. He silently obliged, crawling onto the bed and sitting in front of her. She was leaning against the headboard, soft pillows arranged so that they would support her back.

The hero scooted forward a bit. Feeling daring, Villain copied her and gasped as he suddenly found himself under her. She had grabbed him and switched their places before he could react, pressing him against the headboard and straddling him.

He stammered, trying to come up with something to say, but grew silent as Hero cradled his cheek. Her thumb rested on his lips as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I hope you weren't planning on being the top~?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered, breathless, "No... I wouldn't have this any other way..."

She grinned at him, eyes half-lidded as she tangled her hands in his hair. He sighed, relaxing under her touch as she brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Villain's arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer.

A moan hummed in his throat as Hero's hands trailed down his chest and landed on his bathrobe's belt. Slowly, teasingly, she untied it, the fabric loosening around him, letting her slip it off him, exposing his body to her.

Shivers coursed through the villain as her hands glided along his bare skin. He wanted to feel her too. His hands traced her curves, sneaking towards her belt. As his fingers brushed against it, she caught his wrists, scolding him lightly. "Ah, ah. Not allowed~."

He opened his mouth to protest, but only a gasp left him as one of her hands went to his cock. The hero's fingers brushed against it, her touch feather-light, experienced. Villain grasped at the bedsheet below them, breath coming out uneven as she slowly stroked him.

Even as she drew pleasured mewls from him, she took a moment to admire his shaft. It was a decent length, not the biggest one out there, but certainly above the average. It was just right for her, and she complimented so, whispering in his ear again, "You're the perfect size~. And it looks so nice too~."

He shuddered at her words, and she moved her face in front of him once more. Their mouths locked again, her free hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in. She seized his bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling on it gently. Her tongue asked for entrance, and he let her in, deepening the kiss. She explored the inside of his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny.

Villain sucked in a sharp breath as Hero's hand stopped, and her thumb began running small circles on the tip of his dick, smearing pre-cum across it. As their lips parted again, they gasped for air. Another smile graced her features as he begged. "F-Fuck! Hero, please, can I touch you? Please."

The woman hummed, considering his plea. She adored the needy look on his face, the way his fingers twitched around the clutched bed sheets, desperate for contact. The hero gave a small chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely~."

With the permission given, the villain's hands immediately moved to strip her free of her robe. She laughed some more at his haste before kissing him again. Low moans left them both as they touched and teased each other. His hands trailed down her spine, making her arch into him and raising more pleasured sounds from her.

Showing her approval, Hero stroked Villain a few times, her movements swift and firm, drawing another shudder from him. They separated for air again, her hands moving up to cradle his face as she suggested, "How about we get to the fun part now~?"

His hands trailed to her hips, his mouth opened to reply, but he suddenly pulled back, looking as if he just remembered something. "Oh, hold on."

The hero watched curiously as he leaned to the side of the bed towards a nightstand. The villain opened one of the drawers and pulled something out of it. She gave an amused snort once the two objects entered her vision.

"What?" - he asked as she giggled again, looking between her, the bottle of lube and condom in his hands.

"I don't get to see you being a responsible adult very often. It's cute." - she admitted, making him blush once more without fail.

He grumbled under his breath, but the smile on his face told her there was no bite behind it. She took the small bottle from him and moved back a bit. Villain paid her no mind, focused on getting the condom out of its package and slipping it on. Once he successfully finished his task, he looked up again.

His dick twitched at the sight that greeted him. Hero was sitting on the other end of the bed, her legs spread wide as she poured some lube onto her throbbing sex. She gasped lightly as the cold substance made contact and then used her hand to tease at her folds.

The villain watched as she slipped a finger inside herself, slowly moving in and out. His own hand went to his cock, stroking himself as he grew entranced by the show. He matched her pace, and she groaned quietly as she slipped a second finger in, stretching herself in preparation.

Their eyes locked, and they stayed that way for a little bit, pleasuring themselves and listening to one another's soft gasps and moans. Eventually, Hero's impatience got the best of her. She pulled her fingers out and crawled over to Villain.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she positioned herself at his dick, and he held her by the waist, giving her some additional support. They inhaled shakily in unison as she took in the tip of his cock. She moved down slowly, letting herself adjust to his size, and he made no complaints, haphazardly leaving small pecks on her face, which got another giggle out of her.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, he ran his hands down her thighs, making her shiver and pull him into another kiss. Her touch trailed over his sides to his hips and then back up to cradle his head. His own hands moved up her body, one grasping her breast, squeezing and kneading while the other moved to get tangled in her hair.

Experimentally, the hero moved her hips forward, making them both moan against one another, the sound muffled by their connected lips. Leisurely, she began moving up and down, setting a calm pace, the slight pain of being stretched around him fading into pleasure. Their mouths parted again, and quickly, they got lost in their lust and each other's eyes.

She sped up, their skin beginning to slap together, sounding across the room but still drowning in their moans and mewls. As their pleasure began to build up inside their guts, their hands traveled without a set destination, wanting to feel as much as they could.

A gasp left Hero's lips as Villain's shaft hit the right spot, and she angled herself, focusing on it and moving even faster, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with her rapid pace. Thrust after thrust, their breathing swiftly turned shaky, chaotic. Their minds grew frantic as their orgasms approached them.

The hero's head tilted back, and she tightly held onto the villain's shoulders as release washed over her. His name left her lips in a low moan that echoed in his head, and it didn't take long for him to come as well, Hero's name leaving him in an identical manner.

Coming down from their highs, they slowed down, enjoying the pleasure for a bit longer with some calm thrusts and movements. They locked in a soft, short kiss before eventually parting and coming to a stop. Together they gasped for air and took a moment to rest as sweat dripped down their bodies.

Once she had regained some energy, Hero slid off Villain, making them both shudder at the feeling. She collapsed on the bed beside him, and soon, he copied her, lying down next to her. The two remained like that for a few minutes, calming their racing hearts and basking in the afterglow.

A small chuckle caught the villain's attention, and he turned his head towards the hero. She gave him a lazy smile before explaining her giddiness. "Looks like we'll need another shower."

He gave her a chuckle of his own before an idea crossed his mind. "Well, I do have a jacuzzi tub..."

With a grin that Hero considered too charming for Villain's own good, he offered, "Wanna take a bath together~?"

She giggled fondly. "Sure."

And then, together, off they went to get cleaned up again.

[haik-choo]

karasuno first years out late w/ their s/o

request: Could you write how 1st years (yachi too pls🥺) going out with their s/o late at night ?

a/n: this is such a cute little concept i -- 

[KARASUNO FIRST YEARS OUT LATE AT NIGHT WITH THEIR S/O]

-tsukishima, kageyama, yamaguchi, hinata, yachi

tsukishima kei.

not gonna lie, he’s often awake late at night. he’s a night owl and doesn’t mind sacrificing his sleep to watch some youtube videos

occasionally, he even goes out late at night, slipping past his parents and brother’s room and softly closing the front door with his headphones covering his ears and his hands stuffed in his pockets

so when you text him at 3am and ask if he can go out with you to the convenience store, he agrees in seconds to meet you at the halfway point between your houses

wastes no time in putting on his sneakers and a hoodie; he wants to get there quickly so that you aren’t left out by yourself

tsukishima knows there’s creeps out there, which is exactly why he jogs to the halfway point and is relieved when he’s the first one there

as soon as he sees you in the distance he fast walks to catch up to you, and slips his hand into yours

he totally brings bluetooth earbuds so that you two can listen to the same music instead of his wired headphones <3 uwu

is always on the lookout for any weirdos, and if he spots someone eyeing you up he shoots them the nastiest glare

eventually wraps his arms around your shoulder while your hand is sitll in his and its that cute little thing where your arms is across your chest holding his hand </3

pays for whatever you get at the store, ignores your complaints and tells you to shut up when you continue to insist on paying

“im trying to be a good boyfriend for once, for the love of god PLEASE shut up”

secretly takes a candid photo of you at some point in the night and sets it as his home screen -- NOT his lock screen, and when you see it he outright denies having taken it

tsukishima: you told me to take a picture of you

you: stop lying i know you’re a closet hopeless romantic 

convinces you to stop at the park and eat the snacks you both got there, music still humming in your ears as the moonlight washes you both in cool tones

tsukishima when he’s alone with you is so soft -- he literally kisses your hand and temple and mutters very softly “love you” 

all in all, tsukishima kei is the perfect night-owl boyfriend to go on snack-runs with 

kageyama tobio.

"why would i go out right now. do you know what time it is. i have practice in the morning”

kags really out here kinda hurtin’ your feelin’s ngl boy doesn’t understand the vibes LOL

honestly you probably woke him up, he’s asleep at like ten every night (even tho he still has homework to do he just flat-out ignores it LOL) 

only agrees to go out walking with you because you said he could bring his volleyball and you’d toss a few for him....and also because he’s a little worried because it’s so dark out

doesn’t walk with you to the park but meets you there LOL

he deadass has his wholeass duffel bad with the ball, two waterbottles, two towelettes, volleyball sneakers and everything

“you know,,,,we’re not playing a game, right, tobio?”

“yeah???? and??? what’s your point”

acts nonchalant but is totally having fun and is lowkey glad you asked him to go out so late because it’s cool out, there’s no one to bother him, and you just look...really good under the stars

he’s not a cheesy person but...god you just take his breath away sometimes. not that he’ll ever say that though

you ask to take a break like thirty minutes in because you are LITERALLY dying meanwhile he hasn’t even broken a sweat (”you’re already tired? maybe you should workout more” “shut UP kageyama”)

you both sit on the bench, and you’re lowkey waiting for him to reach for your hand but they’re just folded in his lap as he stares out in the nothingness of night

kageyama can’t take a hint. we know this. he’s incapable of knowing what you want unless you flat out tell him; so you have to be a very honest person

he doesn’t even really initiate skinship, not because he doesn’t want to, but just because it never really crosses his mind

plus he doesn’t feel the need to constantly show affection because he thinks it’s obvious that he likes you

despite this, he is good at spotting weird people, and he’s pretty protective of you, so you’re completely safe with him. trust him, he’ll keep you safe

all in all, have patience and stamina because kags will play volleyball with you until you pass out. also, he loves you 

yamaguchi tadashi.

is in bed by 11pm but doesn’t actually go to sleep until two am because he’s scrolling through tiktok on his phone

sees your text about wanting to go out for a late night walk and maybe go through the little forest near your house and automatically sends a text that says “ill meet you at your window! can you pack some snacks? :)”

he walks all the way to your house, even if it’s more convenient to meet halfway because he wants to protect you! he’s not the strongest nor is he the most intimidating, so all he really has to offer is his presence

despite not being strong nor scary, yams literally has eagle eye. you can’t tell me that he can’t read people in a heartbeat -- he’s extremely perceptive 

also texts you to not bring a jacket because he’s bringing on of his own for you !!! so sweet what the hell

he waits at your front door and when you step out he automatically pushes his volleyball jacket into your hands and he takes the bag of snacks from you and sticks out one of his hands UGH such a gentleman

lets you ramble about anything and stares at your side profile as he listens 

joins in with a few quips here and there but ultimately is pretty quite and lets you speak or lets the silence cozy into the conversation

sees that there’s a guy sitting on a bench up the road and he switches places with you so that you’re further away from the stranger 

also wraps a protective hand around your waist until you both are past the random dude but yams will glance behind yall every once in a while

when you two reach the mini forest he ends up taking the lead claiming that he knows a good spot

and damn, he’s right

it’s a little clearing that is illuminated solely by the moonlight and he sets the bag of snacks down beside him before sitting down himself, apologizing for not bringing a blanket that you two could sit on 

pats the spot next to him so that you sit right beside him and he leans back with his hand on yours ONGMIRG 

is the super cheesy type and tells you that you look really pretty and that,,,he kind of wants to kiss you

you: *experiencing heart palpitations* and you did this for what. 

yamaguchi: ...because i love you?

you: *K.O*

all in all, yamaguchi is the boyfriend that completely indulges your late-night escapades <3 

hinata shoyo.

is either completely fast asleep and doesn’t see your text or was awake and not planning to sleep for the next five hours, no in-between

but if he’s awake and sees your text, he agrees right away and asks where you want to meet up and what time because homeboy probably has to bike to get there AgAGAGAGA

literally doesn’t even show up in sneakers. he’s wearing sandals and shorts with a short sleeve top 

“i came in my pjs”

“i see that.”

asks if you two can bike around instead because he doesn’t want to have to wheel his bike around for like an hour 

he tells you to hold on tight because the bike was built for one person, and when you press against his back his warmth is literally so,,,comforting 

has no sense of awareness and will scream going down a hill in the middle of a neighborhood, no fucks given

so, no, he doesn’t notice any weriod people even if there are some around

you always end up running into some weird people and you get new interesting stories every other day because let’s be honest hinata is a magnet for crazy shit and crazy people (usually crackheads) 

you both just ride around as he talks about his day, usually his sister always comes up in the conversation( “she asked me to marry you the other day” “doirhgAEROIHFGRE SHOYO WHAT” “what? i told her i would. i keep my promises!”)

after like thirty minutes he begs for a break and you stop at a little 24/7 ice cream store that is run by the sweetest elderly couple

you share a sundae because you don’t want to eat too much this late at night

he plops on the bench right outside the store with his bike leaning against the metal handles, and h snuggles up to you and watches you scroll on your phone

he talks a little here and there, but for the most part, he goes quiet, and it’s during this time where you’re unaware of his gaze that he just takes his time drinking in your features in the yellow light of the lamppost 

he can’t read the mood most times, but this time he does, and he stays quiet, and he thinks to himself

that he really will marry you one day

all in all, hinata gives you the impulsive young teenage experience of late night bike rides while eating his fair share of ice cream

yachi hitoka.

another either or, except this time she’s either fast asleep or stressing over homework and the nine tests she has the next day

when you ask if she can go on a walk with you she’s hesitant because she doesn’t want to get in trouble with her mom and she’s a total goody goody and terrified of doing anything reckless; but then she remembers that her mom was on a business trip and so she, very cautiously, says yes

you: good. i’m outside your door btw

yachi: i never had a choice did i

you have to meet her at her house because she’s way too scared to walk by herself at night; she might even make you factime her as you commute because she’s worried for you

jumps at every little thing, even the crows cawing make her shit herself

instictively grabs onto your sleeve and nervously look around the entire time, to the point where she doesn’t hear what you say

so you offer to go to a little cafe that’s still open and right away she nods

she’s so adorable, she bows really deeply when you two walk into the store and apologizes for it being so late

and finally, because you two are safe, she’s calm and smiling as she sips at her strawberry smoothie

awkwardly and very shyly reaches out for your hand on the table and gently lays her palm on yours

canon: yachi totally has freckles and you can’t convince me otherwise 

her face is red and her freckles are just on display you can’t help but coo at her and tuck some hair behind her ear because god could she get any cuter?

you two end up staying for like a hour and a half and very shyly she asks if you could walk her home 

and this time on the walk she’s not overly cautious and seems to enjoy the nighttime breeze and your hand softly clasping hers

does that cute thing where she lays her head on your shoulder or arm while you both are walking and looks up at you through her eyelashes and asks if you could give her a kiss on the cheek </3

you: stop. please. im going to die.

when you’re at her door she literally just stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before tilting her head upwards and pressing her lips to yours and then promptly running inside

video calls you three seconds afterwards to make sure you get home safely 

all in all, you might need to be the impulsive one, but yachi enjoys spending late night time with you more than she admits. also please kiss her thanks      

[morgana-ren]

👉👈 Spare thoughts on like Crystal Lake/Friday the 13thesque camp counselor au with the Lov or mainly Shigaraki. I was thinking about watching Fear street and suddenly this was all I could think about

So I wrote this bit and yes, I’m painfully aware it’s not plot-perfect or polished but I LOVE the concept and wanted to put something out for it to show my appreciation that you shared it with me. Warning: it’s very nasty and I took a lot of liberties here. I hope that’s okay. Tomura is the gross incel-y killer. It wasn’t QUITE Friday 13th style, more “creepy counselor gone mad” because when I started writing it, I was a bit out of it.

I hope it’s okay!

-

A slippery hand clutches yours- stark red and slicked with sweat and blood, trembling bones and quivering fingers- clinging to yours as if you alone could keep her anchored to her quickly fading lifeforce. She’s been stabbed repeatedly, but it’s the wound on her chest that pulses most noticeably with her breath; A font bubbling from the cleave a few inches beneath her collar bone, a scarlet brook staining down the front of her pastel camp uniform.

Her mouth open in a strangled, wordless cry: A petrified 'o' shape that seems terribly uncanny alongside her sallow cheeks, fear and pain reflected in her wide and panicked eyes as her grip on consciousness rapidly fades. Crimson stains her slippery ivory teeth, gurgling on her own bile as she struggles to make out a fragmented sentence between her presumably collapsing lungs and the blood pooling in her throat.

Her face, the perfect mask of fear covered in dirt and her own fluids, begins twitching, blinking tears through the muck that cakes her cheeks. The hand not wrapped around yours in an iron grip curls into a point -shaky and pale and borderline indiscernible- and it takes you a brief moment for you to realize she’s pointing directly behind you. It’s only then that you rip yourself from your traumatized stupor and hear the footsteps approaching from the cabin door.

You’re ready and willing to defend yourself if need be, shooting to your feet with lips pulled in a snarl, but you’re not greeted with the sight of a terrifying killer brandishing a knife: You’re met instead by the familiar face of your fellow camp counselor and long time friend.

“Tomura!”

You can’t help it. You throw your arms around his scrawny neck, almost knocking him over in your relief as you bury your head into the swell of his black hoodie. He’s a welcome sight- been close to you ever since you started attending even though he’s years older than you are, and he’s always made you feel better- safer somehow.

You’ve never been more happy to see him than you are now, thanking whatever God is looking out for you that he’s alive and that he found you. You squeeze him with every ounce of strength your little body can muster as he wraps his own gangly limbs around you and cages you to his chest in turn- almost too tightly.

“I looked for you! I couldn’t-“ Breath escapes you, tearing up in his embrace. “I couldn’t find you! I thought he’d gotten you too! I was so scared-”

He gives a firm shake of his head, shaggy silver hair ruffling over his shoulders. He reeks, as always, of slight mildew and something vaguely earthy- like ash or cinder, even as he hasn’t ever been allowed on fire duty. “No. He can’t be far behind though. We need to go.” 

“Okay!” You nod, wiggling free of his reluctant arms and dropping to your knees again by your wounded friend. “Just help me with Maureen- she’s really hurt- We need to get her to a hospital and fast-” “Leave her.” His knobby fingers encircle the rounds of your forearm, jerking you back to your feet at his side again with a bruising yank. ”We don’t have time- she’ll only slow us down.”  “How can you say that? We can’t just leave her here! She’s bleeding out- We can save her, we just have to-” 

A quick peek back at her and you realize she looks- if possible- more terrified than she did only moments ago in the face of death. She’s shaking like a leaf- Her wide, milky eyes focused in on Tomura as she attempts another gasped word.  “Look- Just look at her. She’s done for. Let’s go- I can keep you safe, I can-.”  “You don’t know that- You don’t know that- Please Tomura, we don’t have time to argue, just help me!” 

“I do know that,” He insists, trying again to tug you towards the door. “She’s in shock, and the blood loss is too much for them to be able to save her even if we could drag her out of here. It was obviously intentional. I can protect you but we need to leave now-” 

Your eyes flick back to Maureen and the pooling beneath her prone body that seems to grow larger by the second. Her mouth trembles, choking on the words that are trapped in her flooded throat. 

You shake him off once more and lean down to her as Tomura groans in what seems like, if you didn’t know better, annoyance. You ignore him, trying to coax her into your arms carefully, but she only quivers in your grasp, still trying to hiccup out something between her pained gasps and slipping mortal coil. 

“C’mon Maureen- You can make it, I know you can!” But she remains limply, dead weight on the cabin floor, more fearful of something directly in front of her than the inevitable death that awaits. You lean forward once more to try and get a grip beneath her arms to hoist her upward, but she holds firm, puffing a final wheeze in your ear that takes a moment to process.  “Him.”

Blood bubbles up through her throat following the words and she spits it up over her blouse, eyes going blank and body falling into limpness. The wounds across her body still ooze a steady stream of blood but the last of her spirit seems to still, light fading from her eyes in one final moment.

“Tomura, help-” Panic threads through your voice, still trying to drag her forward.

But he doesn’t move to help you. He only stares blank faced and cold as Maureen seizes in her death rattles; Her pallid fingers still coiled in an accusatory gesture at her side. 

“Please-”

“I told you, she’s dead.” He pulls you away by the collar like a kitten, knocking your center of balance clean from the sheer force of the grab as he coaxes you once again into his arms. “Can we go now? We need to go, need to get away from here-”

Something catches your attention, something solid in his hoodie’s kangaroo pouch that pricks you slightly as you fall into his chest. A slight sting on your arm as it collides with his torso. 

”Ow!” You pull away once again, his body stiffening as you inspect a fresh little cut on your arm where something sharp pricked at your flesh. “Tomura, what the hell is in your pocket? That hurt-”  ”Nothing! Quit wasting time- Come on! We need to leave.” 

“It cut me...” You pluck at the skin once more, hissing in slight pain as the small laceration pulls apart under your attentions. “Do you have a knife in your pocket?”  “What? No- well, yeah. I picked it up in the kitchens when I was trying to find you. I thought I could defend myself with it if he caught up to us-” 

You turn and narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head. “We don’t have knives that sharp. We have butter knives. It’s not safe for the kids, and after you got caught last time-”  “We have one, remember? The one we keep in the drawer for the barbeques.” “I looked! When the girls cabin scattered after the attack, I went and looked and it was gone!” “I must’ve grabbed it before you got there. Is this really important right now? We need to go! Stop being difficult!-”  “How is that possible? The boys cabin didn’t know anything was going on until we fled there when he attacked Stacy and Becky. You didn’t even know what was happening until- You- You weren’t even there-” 

“Well I have it, alright?” He interrupts you, face contorting into a sneer. “Shouldn’t you be happy? It means you’re not fucking defenseless if he shows up again.” “How-”

“Don’t worry about it!” He grabs your arm again, bruising grip deceptively strong for such a lithe man, crushing the bones in your wrist with his fingers. “Come on- Lets go! We can finally leave here together- You’ll be safe with me-”

Him

It could be the ferocious expression, or his demands that are cloaked in the facade of a benevolent request. Maybe his story that doesn’t add up or perhaps you’ve simply known all along somewhere deep down. Either way, It hits you in one terrible moment- one world shattering instant where everything suddenly clicks into place.

Tomura- quiet, eerie Tomura with the sharp mind and the eyes sharper still. Tomura with boundary issues who always found a reason to touch things he wasn’t supposed to. Tomura who only ever had a soft spot for you because you were kind to him when everyone else kept a mile berth. 

Tomura, who’s only friend to speak of is you.

‘He’s so obsessed with you! It’s fuckin’ creepy! You should get a restraining order before he, like, snaps and corners you and makes you suck his dick or something. He’s not even supposed to hang around with the younger group but he’s always following you around like a lovesick puppy.’

‘What? No he’s not! That’s a horrible thing to say! He’s a nice guy, you guys are just awful. You don’t even give him a chance-’

‘He’s always staring at you like he wants to eat you! I bet he’s the one stealing your stuff. I’ll bet he has one of those weirdo shrines to you in his cabin and jerks it over your picture like ‘Oh, oh yeah, ride me harder, oh fuck me faster- Oh!-’

‘You’re disgusting! He’s just nice to me because I’m nice to him! Everyone else is such an asshole to him- Including you! God, you guys are so fuckin’ mean for no reason! Just because he’s a little different-’

‘He gives me the creeps. He’s been like that since we were kids. Remember when he was a teenager but still only ever hung around you? He couldn’t even make friends his own age! Even the other councilors are wigged by him. The only one who even talks to him is you. I’m telling you, he’s a fuckin’ weirdo. There’s something totally off about him. He’s going to snap one day. We’re not the only ones that avoid him, you know-’ 

‘Fuck you guys. You guys are such fucking judgmental dicks. He’s never even done anything to you. You’re just a mean spirited bitch.’ 

Tomura who would sneak you into the woods and show you rotting animal corpses with macabre excitement in his wide red eyes. Tomura who used to sneak knives in his bag as a camper and show you how to sharpen and hold them until he got caught and the entire camp had to institute a new safety policy. Tomura who had to be scolded repeatedly for trying to sneak into the girl’s cabin as a young boy to try sleep next to you, and that it wasn’t appropriate for him to wait outside of it for you as he got older either. Tomura who has distain for everything and everyone in a world that shunned and rejected him in equal capacity. 

Everyone but you. 

Your friends are dead, slaughtered like animals and strewn across the camp in a grotesque tableau of vicious murder, the only knife in the area conveniently tucked in his pocket, his hand clasping your wrist in an iron hold that doesn’t ask, but demands you obey him. 

“Tomura- Tomura tell me you didn’t- You couldn’t-”  You’re shaking now, feeling more in danger than you did before the man in the mask who conveniently never chased you or even gave you a second glance even as he had every opportunity to do so. The murderer just as gawky and gangly as Tomura, lean, wiry muscle and imposing height almost too tall for his own body and manic, scarlet eyes. The killer who held the knife with the same practiced grip that he’d shown you so many years ago-

“What are you even talking about? Let’s go-” 

He rips you forward, taking you into his arms again and squeezing.

‘He’s going to snap one day-’

“Tomura- Tomura no! Tomura! God, please tell me you didn’t do this! Look at me and tell me!” 

He looks at you, mouth opening to form a sentence before abruptly cutting short. He studies your face, your quivering body, the blood across your cheek. You think, for a moment, he might break down. But he doesn’t.  He laughs. A nasty, cruel chuckle directed at you and only you; there’s no one else alive to hear it.

“You always were too smart for your own good.” 

The facade of panic and adrenaline falls from his pallid face, replaced with his stereotypical look of total nonchalance and almost boredom. Your stomach plummets, limbs paralyzed in abject terror as his pale hand reaches forward, thumbing at the swatch of blood across your face. 

“I had to, you know. Wanted to for years. But I had to wait until you were a counselor with me. Had to wait until I could do it before the kids arrived. Too many variables I couldn’t control. No one is coming for days, and they’re finally dead, and by the time anyone finds them, we’ll be long gone.” 

A stab of ice down your spine at his words, the uncanny horror of it all whirling your vision to a blurry abyss. “You can’t- what have you done? What have you done?”

“What I had to! They were insufferable and stupid- your harpy friends wouldn’t let us be. But now they’re dead.”

“-Have to get help- we need to call the police-“

“Stop being stupid.” He brushes the hair out of your face with a tender finger laden in blood. “We’re leaving here and never coming back.”

“You need to turn yourself in-“ you stammer. “They’ll know it was you, God, Tomura-“

“Do I look like I care?” A snarl lifts his scabby lips, bearing the sharp canines beneath. “I don’t give a fuck if they know. I hope they do. They’ll never find us. I’ve had so long to plan-“

“No! Tomura, this is insane!”

“It’s over. Come to peace with it.” He hisses, wrenching you even closer, his dry lips on the shell of your ear. “You’re coming with me, baby, and we can finally be together. You can finally show me all those dirty little things you never got the chance to because your friends made you feel ashamed.”

The edge of the blade in his hand flicks up through the thin threading that binds the top buttons of your counselor uniform, baring your cleavage and the top part of your bra to him. You scramble to try and cover yourself, but he’ll have none of it; he quickly swats your hands away and presses the tip of the knife to your sternum.

“I’ve waited so long for you-“ A ragged breath escapes him, chest shuddering with the force of the exhale. “To touch you. To take you. Do you know what it’s like? What you fucking do to me?”

“Tomura- this- this is wrong! Please! Please let me get help! We’ll get you the help you need- I will! But you can’t do this! It’s not right!”

“There’s only one way you can help me, babe.” The hand not threatening you with the knife slides down and squeezes your breast, your entire body stiffening in visceral disgust. “Something I’ve wanted as long as I can remember. If you’re eager enough for it now, we have some time-“

“No! No! Don’t- stop touching me! This is sick! They’re dead! Tomura- stop it!”

“They are. And I could never, ever hurt you, but I’m sure there’s someone still alive that I could to calm you down- to make you see sense.” He squeezes hard enough to make you cry out, nipple catching between his fingers through the thin fabrics you’re wearing.

You blink up at him, bleary eyes full of silvery tears that trail down the slopes of your cheeks. He doesn’t look like Tomura anymore- not your Tomura. He looks like something twisted and uncanny, some feral beast that’s inhabited your friend’s brain and driven him to the brink of madness. He leers down at you lasciviously, thick pink tongue swiping across his teeth and you’ve never felt more uncomfortable in your own skin under his gaze than you do right now.

“It’s not fair when you cry like that. I’m already painfully hard-“ He releases your tit in favor of clutching your wrist, bringing your trembling hand down to his crotch hidden by the length of his sweatshirt and forcefully rubs the length of his throbbing erection against your palm. “But it always did things to me when you got all weepy.”

You’ve been defending a monster.

“Remember when you would cry into my lap because that group of girls was mean to you and I had to keep adjusting you every few minutes?” He barks a laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “God, it was so hard not to sink you down on my cock right then. Fuck, I would have destroyed you if I let myself- all sniveling and delicate and weak. You always needed me to protect you, didn’t you? So trusting. Naive, really. You had no idea what I was thinking about at night. What I’ve been planning to do to you for years-“

You can only give a broken, disbelieving cry of his name- trying to bring back the boy you knew. The sweet boy. The shy one. The quiet one with morbid curiosities and wild ideas on the world.

“Your friends knew, of course. But you didn’t listen, you silly, dumb little girl. Tried to warn you, but you just wouldn’t listen. And now they’re dead.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you bastard! You’re a monster! You’re-“ You batter your fists uselessly against the steel panes of his chest and he barely even budges.

“Remember when you could come to the woods with me and I would show you all the cool stuff my dad taught me? You thought it was weird but you still came because you’ve always been so sweet to me. My dad’s dead now, but I made sure he left me his remote cabin. I’ve wanted to take you there for so long, and now I finally can.”

He advances on you and even in your rage, you instinctively backpedal. Before long, he’s got your back flush against the scratchy wood wall, toe to toe with you with his imposing frame trapping you to the surface behind you in a gangly cage of his spider-like limbs.

“Fuck- It gets me so hot when you act like a little brat. When you fight me even when you know there’s no way you can overpower me. You never could. Even when we play-wrestled. I could make you scream without even trying. So fucking precious to see you bare your teeth at me like you’re capable of lifting a finger against me.”

“I hate you- I hate you!”

“That’s okay, babe. I can learn to forgive you. Tell you what, why don’t you wrap those pretty lips around my cock and start sucking out my forgiveness with your sharp little tongue and we’ll take it from there.”

“Go to hell-“

“If I go, you’re coming with-“ He puffs into your ear, one hand swirling into the front of your shirt, the other slicing from hem to collar in one swift motion, leaving your torso bared to his greedy eyes. “I’ve earned you. You’re mine now- you belong to me and anyone who has ever tried to say otherwise is dead!”

And the worst part is he’s right. Maureen bubbles a lifeless pool of blood a few feet away. The ones who tried to fight slashed repeatedly until they were too weak to stand and died a slow, painful death into the grass. The ones that tried to run cut down from behind- a cowardly act that shows his true nature. You can scream and cry and wail your sorrows to the terrible moon that hangs through the trees, but no one will come to help you; there’s no one left. No one but him.

And no one is coming for days.

“I was going to wait until I got you home to fuck into your guts but you’re just not getting it, and I don’t think I can wait.” He thrusts the knife back into his pocket temporarily, opting instead to fumble with the front of his jeans. Dread pools in your stomach, threatening to overturn the contents into the filthy floor, but all you can do is watch in terror as he unzips the front of his jeans and fishes his pale cock from behind it.

“Go ahead and get on your knees for me and stick your tongue out. Think of it as a practice round.”

You shake your head, weakly resisting as he shoves you to the ground and taps the hot, purpling tip on your face, smearing his precum across your ruddy cheek.

“Don’t be shy. I promise once you get a taste, you’ll love it. You will learn to love it. You don’t have another choice. Just wait until I get you back home. I’ve learned so much since last summer. I can’t wait to show you.”

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #7

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 7.2k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: a bit of talking down on yourself, the confusion continues, general fluff with a touch of angst 

a/n: this is the final date. guys...how is this going by so fast?? please let me know your thoughts on the date, on everything else overall...and I’ll see you soon? Next Saturday is the finale!

Date #7

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Note from the creator of this stupid idea:

I loved her first.

 “Who do you think it was? Any ideas?”

           “I…” you shrug. “No?”

           Gina arches a brow, staring you down from across your kitchen table. “So, that was a lie.”

           You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, Gina also chuckling. It’s a relief, the fact that she doesn’t hesitate to call you out. You’re grateful that you finagled her number from Jin, shooting him a text that looked a lot like this:

Me: Burn this after reading

Me: We can’t have any evidence !!

Kim Seokjinnie: ok, hi. I’m not burning my phone weirdo. I’ll just keep it away from Jungkook. What’s up??

Me: Hi. You know what I meant.

Me: Can you give me Gina’s number?

Kim Seokjinnie: Sure, I’ll send you the contact in a second. You two gonna hang out or something?

Me: Hopefully…do you think it’s weird if I just ask her out of the blue? Will she not wanna come?

Kim Seokjinnie: Nah, she’s pretty chill. I bet she’ll come

Kim Seokjinnie: *Kim Seokjinnie shared a contact with you*

Kim Seokjinnie: do you need anything before I burn my phone?

Me: no, thank you!! I owe you one. I’m short on friends rn, hopefully she’ll come over

Kim Seokjinnie: I’m sorry  miss you. We’ll all get to hang out once this is all over, I promise.

“Yah! I really don’t know. I mean they’ve all be so…”

“So what?”

You sigh, sounding like some kid in a dreamy teen movie. “Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” Gina huffs, leaning back in her chair. It’s a bit rickety, you’d found it at a yard sale with Namjoon and Jimin. You had just moved into your apartment, and realized that you were a little low on furniture. Together, you’d managed to find three mismatching chairs that made you grin each time you saw them.

It was a little odd at the time, you didn’t want to buy three chairs. Two seemed like plenty. They convinced you though, and looking back you understand why they were so adamant.

Wasn’t it rule #3? “Limit one-on-one interaction”? Three chairs made it so that there was always space for at least two of them.

Suddenly you look at the most average things in your house with different eyes.

Groaning, you rub your hands over your face. You’ve probably smudged your makeup, but you don’t care. It’s Friday night, you can do whatever you want.

“Unfortunately, I really think that there might be.” You let out a dry chuckle. “Seven dates with the world’s most perfect men. I knew I was screwed from the beginning, but this, I mean, I didn’t expect it to go this far.”

“On the bright side, you only have one more to go.” Gina gets up, stretching before moving to put her plate in the sink. She’d picked up some takeout on her way to your house, proving to you that you two are going to be friends for a long, long time.

“I’m terrified because of that. What happens after tomorrow’s date? I know it’s up to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for someone to come tell me the next step.”

Gina hums in agreement, shooting you an apologetic look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out how flirty they were at the haunted house. You never would have gotten into this mess.”

“No,” you wave her off. “It’s not your fault. Jungkook let it slip anyway, after the door closed on us in the basement. Ugh, I still get freaked out thinking about that. Has that happened since?”

Gina pauses over the sink, back turned to you as she runs her plate under the hot water. After a moment she shuts it off, turning around to wipe her hands off on a dish towel before leaning up against the counter.

“Erm…”

Your stomach drops. “What.”

“It’s just…” she crosses her arms and uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with her hands. “The door is connected to a little button on every employee’s key fob. You know, just for some extra scare factor.”

You meet her sheepish gaze with a blank stare. “So you’re telling me…”

“It’s just a part of the tour,” Gina shrugs. “Wait, what happened? He told you about the pact when the door closed? That’s…that’s honestly not the most romantic setting-”

“No no, we had a little moment after the door closed, and we almost kissed. But he stopped himself and said the I didn’t have to worry about him making a move. When we got out, I asked him why, and that’s when he mentioned the pact.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So tomorrow is the last date, correct?”

           “Yup.”

           “Look,” Gina notices your worried expression. “Do yourself a favor. Let go. Don’t waste tomorrow thinking about what’s gonna happen next. Focus on the moment, ok? Then how about we get together next week sometime to talk everything over? If you feel like that might help, that is.”

           You definitely made the right choice in inviting Gina over. You can already feel your stress levels going down.

           “Ok.”

           You’re up early the next morning, earlier than you’d like. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on your sofa, basking in the golden morning sun and watching the little dust motes float in the air, but it’s certainly been a while.

           For once, it’s quiet in your mind. You’re not sure why now, why today. There’s no doubt you’ll be your typical bumbling mess once Yoongi picks you up, but for now all is peaceful.

           It’s the last date. Somehow, despite how much you’ve enjoyed these little escapades, you feel relief at the thought. Knowing that you’ve made it nearly to the end without doing anything remarkably stupid (you’re still mortified that you and Jimin got kicked out of that basilica but oh well), and now you’re so close.  

           For now, you slide your worries under the rug, to be left there for the weekend. You curl your legs under you and lean your head back against the cushions to drink in the sunlight. It warms your skin, leaving you feeling even better than before.

           Yoongi is supposed to be here around four. Jungkook had sent you a quick text earlier in the week checking that you didn’t have any plans for Saturday afternoon and night. You didn’t bother to tell him that you always had all day open for them.

           While the exchange had been short, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was blushing just as much as you when his contact popped up on your screen. In an instant you were plunged into the memory of clinging to him just outside your front door, Jungkook’s shaky breaths the only thing keeping you planted in reality.

           Either way, it was safe to say that you were a blushing mess despite the simplicity of the text. He kept it strictly professional, not once alluding to the events of last Saturday. But you could still hear those words he uttered when he asked if you ever thought about what might have happened if he’d kissed you in the haunted house when he had the chance.

           “I do. Every day.”

           Of course you thought about it. You let out an amused huff on the couch, laughing to yourself. Who wouldn’t? But the only thing was the fact that you were thinking about a lot of things. Not just Jungkook.

           Or his lips, for that matter.

           The couch rustles as you get up, deciding to change out of your red sweatshirt for a green one. You’d been instructed to dress warm, which made you wonder what was planned for today. Outside everything looks warm and pleasant, certainly no need for anything too heavy.

           By the time afternoon rolls around, you’re tempted to call up Gina for a late lunch or something. To say you’re antsy is an understatement; you’re positively losing it. The clock on the wall has decided to try its hand at stopping time altogether, and you think it’s doing a pretty good job of it. Every time you glace over, seemingly no time has passed.

           This time, you really start to wonder if no time has passed. You swear it’s been stuck at 3 o’clock for a while-

           The sound of someone knocking on your door has you nearly tipping over from where you perch trying to grab the clock.

           For some stupid reason, you’re frozen to your spot at the far end of your living room. Holding the clock in your hands, you jump a little as a second tentative knock sounds.

           To your utter mortification, your mouth opens and you yell out, “Come in!”

           You’re still frozen in place when the door opens and Yoongi pokes his head in. His eyes immediately land on you, a sheepish smile that he has a hard time containing immediately breaking out.

           “You’re not planning on throwing that at me, right?” He asks, making you glare down at the clock you cling to.

           “Oh.” Your knuckles have turned white, and somehow your heart has decided to try its hand at sprinting a marathon. “No. I- it’s broken. I think.”

           Yoongi shuffles inside, closing the door gently behind him before wandering over to you. His pale complexion makes the pink on his cheeks easy to spot. Somehow the fact that he’s blushing makes you blush.

           “Do you have batteries around here?” He asks quietly, hiding his amusement.

           “Maybe in the kitchen?” You brush past him, handing off the clock. “Would you mind getting the old batteries out?”

           He mumbles out a sure, plopping down on your sofa while he gets to work on the clock. He’s wearing a similar outfit to you, which makes you smile. It’s not very often these days that he sports a bandana and you wonder if he somehow knew that you love the way he looks in it. His hair looks particularly fluffy as it kisses his forehead, the dark bandana giving him an air of coolness you know you could never pull off.

           Rummaging around your kitchen drawers, you pause when you realize what you’re doing. Are you stalling? What’s the rush to fix a clock when you have Min Yoongi in the other room waiting to take you out?

           Closing the drawer, you take a deep breath and shake your head.

           “Sorry Yoongi,” you call out, trudging back into the living room. “I’m an idiot.”

           He looks at you over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your reasoning?”

           “Ouch.”

           Yoongi chuckles, setting the clock down on the coffee table before getting to his feet. “Wow, is it just me or…”

           You wince. “This got off to a bad start, huh.”

           “Yeah.”

           Looking at each other from across the room, you realize just how much you’ve missed him. His witty sarcastic remarks, his honesty.

           Him.

           “Can we start over? Go knock on the door again.”

           Yoongi’s already on his way, huffing out a laugh as he steps outside. “Alright, see you in a second.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re suddenly left with the silence of your house.

           As Yoongi timidly knocks on the door, the same sense of calm you experienced this morning settles over you.

           The seventh date. No more guessing who’s on the other side of the door, no more anxious glances in the mirror to check that everything looks flawless. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the door between you.

           There’s already a smile on your face as you open that door, finding Yoongi standing with his hands in his pocket. He returns your grin, feeling like a fellow conspirator in a heist that has yet to be planned.

           “I’m here,” he announces, then adds with a chuckle, “finally.”

           “Took you long enough,” you tease, reaching out to grab his jacket and pull him inside. He feigns a horrified expression at your flirty nature, but you just roll your eyes. You’re not sure who wraps their arms around the other first, but the next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in a tight embrace.

           I missed you, is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. The lump that’s formed there only grows thicker with emotion as Yoongi’s gravelly voice rumbles against your hair.

           “How’re you holding up?”

           Your arms fall around his waist, ever aware of his shoulder. Even though he says he’s completely healed now, you aren’t taking any chances. It’s quiet for a long moment as you struggle to find an answer.

           “I…fine. I’m fine.” You pull away and arch an eyebrow at him, pleased to see that is cheeks are still rosy despite the serious look in his eye. “How are you holding up?”

           He lets out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze. “Fine.” Then, when he catches your disbelieving stare, he states as innocently as possible, “What? Aren’t we lying to each other tonight?”

           “You suck.”

           “See!” He exclaims as you step out of his grasp to grab your things. “You always do that when you’ve been caught in a lie!”

           “Ugh, yah! I wasn’t lying,” you turn around to face him, walking backward toward your room. “I’m fine, really.”

           He shrugs. “And so am I.”

           You stifle your laughter as you enter your room, grabbing your things and wondering if you should grab a coat. “Do I really need a coat?” You call down the hall.

           “Yes!”

           Pursing your lips, you snatch the puffy monstrosity from your closet before turning to head out. Double checking that you have everything you need; your eyes can’t help but glance at the item sitting atop your dresser.

           You stick your tongue out at it. A few seconds later it’s tucked safely away in your top drawer and you’re heading out into the hallway. Your stomach does an uneasy flip as you recall the words that are practically burned in the backs of your eyelids now.

           I loved her first.

           Yoongi gets up from off the couch, waiting for you beside the door. His dark eyes survey you as you walk toward him. “Good to go?” He asks quietly. Clutching your coat a little tighter to your chest, you nod.

           The two of you head out, locking up your apartment and settling in the car that Yoongi drove over. Before long, you’re out on the highway, speeding toward your destination.

           Which, you’ve just realized, is still a mystery to you.

           “Sooo…” You begin, smiling lazily at Yoongi. You take a moment to admire his hands that are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

           A smile tugs at his lips, but he manages to contain it as he adopts a serious expression. He glances over at you. “We’re going to see the sea.”

           “We’re…” you stutter, furrowing your brows. “We’re going to see the sea?”

           A breathy chuckle escapes him. “Yeah. But it’s a long drive, so are you down to listen to a murder-mystery with me?”

           “YES.”

            You’re still pretty sure that it was the nosy maid that did it by the time you arrive at your destination. Two hours, one murder-mystery short audiobook, and several snacks later, the sun is well on its way to the horizon when Yoongi pulls off to a sandy parking lot filled to the brim with cars.

           There’s tons of people mulling about, several of them appear to be young families who smile fondly as their children laugh and play in the sand. There’s a couple of food-trucks that have popped up on the beach, which sport long lines. Yoongi observes them woefully, seeming to come to some sort of understanding with himself before moving to get out of the car.

           “Woah, what’s with all the people? Is this beach always this busy?”

           It’s a beach you’ve never been to before, the pristine sand glowing as the sun makes its way across the sky.

           “Today’s a special occasion,” Yoongi explains, popping the trunk and rummaging around. “We should probably pick out a spot now before all the good ones are taken.”

           You come around to the back of the car to meet him, taking the blanket he extends out to you. Leaving your big coat in the backseat, you hope he doesn’t scold you and tell you to put it on. Right now it’s windy, but fairly warm. No need to look like a living marshmallow just yet.

           Before you can inquire after what the special occasion is, Yoongi passes you a couple of water bottles and begins rattling off instructions.

           “How about I jump in line to buy us some dinner,” the way he says it so casually has your heart skipping a beat for some reason, “and you head down the beach to scout out a decent spot?”

           “But what kind of spot do you mean? Is there a show or something?”

           Yoongi pauses, closing the trunk and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. A show. Just find a spot that you like, I’ll come find you with our food, ok?”

           “Ay ay, captain.” You trudge away, hoisting the blanket up higher in your arms as you begin to look for an empty space. The immediate surrounding beach area appears to be pretty packed, which has you marching farther and farther away from the parking lot.

           You grin as a couple of children race past you, giggling as they fly their kites. It’s looks like it’s a little boy and with his younger sister, trying their best to keep their kites afloat in wind. Waving at them, your smile only grows as the boy sheepishly turns away and the girl cheerfully waves back.

           It feels like you walk for years before finding a clearing. You were definitely looking for a semi-secluded spot, not too keen on spending your long-awaited date with Yoongi surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone what the big deal is about today before you’re laying the blanket out. Not wanting to leave anything unattended just for it to blow away, you decide to just be patient until Yoongi finds you.

           The sand is warm beneath the blanket as you plop down, resting with your face turned toward the sun as you let out a content sigh. Despite the chill of the wind, the sun warms you right up.

           “Why are you alone?”

           Peeking one eye open at the little voice, you’re delighted to see the same little girl from earlier standing a little ways away. She watches you with a meek expression, her kite forgotten at her feet.

           “Oh, I’m not alone,” you explain. “I’m just waiting for my friend to come find me. He went to go get food.”

           “Oh.” The young girl shuffles her feet. “My mommy says that I need to get all my wiggles out before the show.”

           You chuckle. “Really? What show are we watching tonight? Is it Disney?” That would certainly make sense for all of the young families here tonight. Did Yoongi bring you to a beach-front outdoor movie?

           “No, silly!” The girl giggles at your questions. “The sky’s coming to say hello!”

           “What?”

           “That’s what my mommy said. She said, ‘Young-mi get your wiggles out, the sky is coming to say hello soon!’”

           You blink, a little amused by Young-mi’s earnest response. “I see…I didn’t know that the sky was coming to say hello tonight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “Oh,” you crane your neck toward the parking lot, but it’s too far away to see Yoongi. “My friend brought me, as a surprise.”

           “Wow,” Young-mi utters in a reverent tone. “Can I meet your friend?”

           “I don’t see why not.”

           With a gleeful shout, Young-mi takes off running, her kite skipping along the ground behind her. She runs toward her family, her mother grinning at the sight before reaching out to pull her into her arms. You watch on with a forgotten smile, wondering for a split second what that would be like.

           If you squint, that could be Yoongi sitting beside Young-mi’s mother, throwing his head back with laughter at something his daughter says to him. Their son crouches in the sand nearby, digging around as though searching for gold.

           Laying down with a soft sigh, you close your eyes and let the little daydream take over. Here, at the beach. Telling your children that this is where you had your first date; laughing as they make disgusted faces when Yoongi plants a loud kiss on your cheek-

           “Did the nosy maid get to you?”

           Yoongi stands above you with arms laden with food. He blocks out the sun, the rays coming around to make him appear like an angel. Judging from the delicious smells radiating from the food he carries, you think he actually might be.

           “Ah, so you agree that you think it was her that murdered Duke Rittington?” Your voice sounds a little croaky, a testament to the fact that you were just dozing a moment ago. Leaning up to ease some of the food from his arms, Yoongi snorts.

           “No. It was obviously the son. Why can’t you see it?”

           Rolling your eyes, you pat a spot next to you on the blankets. Yoongi takes the seat without hesitation. “Because, the son seems like too easy of a suspect. Whereas the maid-”

           The screams of Young-mi as she rushes toward you cut you off. “You have a boyfriend?!”

           “Oh, no.”

           Yoongi leans over, still busy arranging the bags of food – is that a cheeseburger you see? – around the blanket. “Who’s that?” He mumbles.

           “I, uh, made a friend while you were grabbing food,” you explain with a small smile.

           Now Young-mi reaches your blanket, dropping to her knees as she gazes up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes. “Hi, my name is Young-mi and I’m four years old. I’m the second tallest in my class.” Young-mi prattles off information, her large eyes never once leaving Yoongi’s face. “Are you her boyfriend? I hope you’re her boyfriend.”

           Yoongi lets out a startled laugh. “You do? Why’s that?”

           “You’re so pretty.”

           Now both of you burst out laughing, Young-mi looking utterly confused at your outburst. Yoongi covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

           “What? What’s so funny?” Young-mi questions.

           You grin at her. “You think he’s pretty?” The little girl nods enthusiastically. “I do too.”

           Yoongi peers over at you at this comment, an unasked question in his eyes. The pink in his cheeks has intensified, as has your own blush.

           “Aren’t I supposed to be the one complementing you?” He asks under his breath. You shrug.

           “You brought food, so now we’re even.”

           Young-mi lingers a little while longer, asking a few questions and drawing in the sand. Munching down on your cheeseburger, you eye Young-mi’s kite.

           “Do you mind if I try to fly your kite for a second?” The question is out of your mouth before you can fully process it, but Young-mi looks up at you excitedly.

           “Yes!!” She squeals, immediately dragging the little handle over to you. “You have to run really fast, that’s what my mommy told me. Then it’ll fly!”

           Glancing back at Yoongi as you clamber to your feet, you don’t miss the fond smile he wears as he watches the interaction take place. You wave at him, heading off down the beach with Young-mi. Once you’ve walked far enough, you wink down at her.

           “Ok, you run on ahead and I’ll catch up in a few seconds.”

           The girl wastes no time running off, her laughter making you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Once she’s far enough off, you take off after her. She heads straight toward her family, who smile at you as you attempt to get the kite off the ground.

           Sand flies up behind you as you race, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi with his phone out, recording you with a wide smile on his face. The sun has hit the horizon now, a dizzying array of colors sending your mind into a joyful frenzy. Up ahead, Young-mi has successfully made it to her family and is waiting for you to catch up. She jumps up and down as the kite soars above you, the little pinwheels attached to it spinning around in the wind.

           A bit more energy overtakes you, and you sprint the last few yards toward Young-mi, unable to stop the laugh that jumps out of you. You feel so free, here on the beach. It’s almost like you’re up there flying with the kite-

           “Wait!”

           Someone shouts it, you’re not exactly sure who, but by the time the plea registers in your ears, it’s too late. Foot catching in the hole that Young-mi’s brother had been digging earlier, you feel a twist of pain before tumbling to the ground.

           You cry out, barely managing to catch yourself before faceplanting it. The handle from Young-mi’s kite digs painfully into your hand, but that’s the least of your problems at the moment.

           Young-mi’s family rushes over to you, but before they reach you Yoongi is dropping to your side.

           “Oh,” you pant, “hi Yoongs.”

           “Are you alright?” He’s also panting, and you wonder if he had begun running after you before you even fell, foreseeing your path. “Your foot…”

           “I am so sorry!” Young-mi’s mother stoops down on your other side, her husband right behind her. “We completely forgot that Doyun even dug that hole! Can you move? Are you in pain?”

           From where you’re laying belly-down on the sand, you can’t help but feel the burn of embarrassment in your cheeks. “I…move? Yeah, I can – ah never mind.” You wince as you attempt to get to your feet only for the dull ache in your right foot to flare up to a fiery red pain. Yoongi immediately reaches out for you, unsure of what to do. His hands ghost over your leg, but retract when you hiss in pain.

           “Here, my husband-” Young-mi’s mother points over her shoulder to the man in question. “He’s a nurse. Honey, could you…?”

           “Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?” The man asks in a gentle voice. “Just to make sure nothing’s broken.”

           With a nod, you allow both him and Yoongi to help you swivel around to sit the correct way, the blush you already have deepening even more when Yoongi takes up a spot at your back. He gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re leaning into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you in a protective manner.

           When you wince as the man delicately presses down on your already swollen ankle, Yoongi begins talking.

           “So, is it just me, or has this entire night been a disaster?”

           You let out a choked laugh. “No, Yoongs. Well, maybe it has, but it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I fell, how embarrassing…”

           “Oh, are you two out on a date? Er, sorry for prying…”

           Both you and Yoongi awkwardly chuckle. “No, no…um, yeah. We are.”

           “It’s our first date, actually,” Yoongi adds as an afterthought.

           “How exciting! Honey, it’s their first date, did you hear that?”

           The man currently inspecting your ankle spares the two of you a kindly glance. “Good for you two. You make a good looking couple.”

           “But I swear I’ve seen you before,” the mother comments, squinting at Yoongi. “Where do I know you from…”

           You can feel Yoongi tense up behind you, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead he takes to finding your hands (which you’ve slipped into your sweatshirt pocket to avoid accidentally punching the man poking and prodding at your foot), eventually curling his hands around yours and steadily unclenching your fists.

           “Oh! I know it! Do you do commercials?”

           Yoongi lets out an audible sigh of relief, which makes you smile for half a second before a particularly hard prod at your ankle sends you into a tailspin.

           “Yeah, I’ve done a few commercials.”

           “I knew it. How’s it looking, honey?”

           Her husband sits back on his heels, giving you a nod. “Nothing appears to be broken, you just twisted it pretty good. Babe, grab that icepack out of the cooler. You should keep ice on it for a while to counter the swelling.”

           A second later you’re handing a little bag of ice. “I don’t wanna take your ice,” you comment lamely. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, pulling back from you and standing.

           “It’s just a disposable pack we used for the cooler,” the mother explains, waving off your concern. “No need to worry. We’ve got plenty more. Now, go enjoy your date!”

           “Yeah, try your best to have fun. And keep ice on that, on and off for the next couple of days. It shouldn’t give you too much trouble after that.” With a wink toward Yoongi, your temporary nurse gives him a little nudge. “You seem like a good man. I think you’re in good hands here, miss.”

           Young-mi bids you a mournful goodbye as you limp away with Yoongi, quickly coming to find that sand isn’t the kindest to people hopping around on one leg. You’ve made it all of four hops while clinging to Yoongi before he stops.

           “Hop on my back,” he commands, stepping directly in front of you.

           You blanch. “But Yoongi…your shoulder.”

           “It’s fine. Just hop on. You don’t need to limp all the way back to where we’re sitting.” When you hesitate another moment, he looks back at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparking in the sunset. “Jagiya.”

           Well, the man puts up a convincing argument.

           Yoongi crouches down so you don’t have to jump, and with a bit of careful maneuvering you manage to hop onto his back. His hands grip your thighs, hoisting you up a bit higher which makes you gasp a little. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on shoulder.

           Setting off toward your abandoned blanket and food, you can’t help but feel a rise of disappointment in your chest.

           “Yoongi?” You mumble, almost sounding like an embarrassed child.

           “Hmm?”

           Hiding your face in the back of his neck, you groan. “I’m sorry.”

           Yoongi’s steps falter before he continues on, confusion evident in his tone. “Sorry? For what?”

           The calm that you felt earlier has completely shattered at this point, and you grit your teeth against the pain in your ankle and the onslaught of emotions that surface. What happened to picture perfect? Why couldn’t you focus?

           Other than sitting in the car together, you feel as though you’ve hardly touched base with Yoongi. You haven’t seen the man in nearly two months, and yet here you are distracted as ever. Distracted with your dumb broke clock, distracted with the audiobook, distracted with a kite.

           Yoongi stops in his tracks as he feels hot tears against his neck. “Jagiya?”

           “I- I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you blubber. “I’m an idiot! I c-can’t focus on anything tonight and…and now I’ve made everything fall apart by going and getting h-hurt…Yoongi, it hurts so bad. A-and now I’m complaining, which is making everything worse!”

           You’re surprised when Yoongi doesn’t say a single thing, instead picking up where he left off as he trudges on toward the blanket. In response to his silence, you continue in your repentant monologue.

           “And you waited in line to get us fooood,” you bite down on your lip as you fight the urge to wail. “It’s probably c-cold now, and you waited for s-so long to get it…I feel like such a bad person…if you don’t wanna continue the date, I u-understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you want! J-just, I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’ve completely ruined this, and you drove t-two hours to get me here….” You’ve reached the blanket now, Yoongi gently sets you down, and you hobble on one foot as you half-expect him to grab his keys and set off toward the car. “I just can’t think straight because I read that stupid pact and-”

           “Woah, back up.”

           Swiveling around to face you, Yoongi has a frown etched into his face. It makes you want to turn and run, to crawl into a cave to die from embarrassment, but it’s the fact that you can barely manage to stand on one foot at the moment – let alone run – that has you standing still.

           “You read the pact?” You blink, hopping a little. When Yoongi sees your struggle he reaches out to you, steadying you. “Here, let’s sit.”

           “W-we’re staying?”

           Yoongi gazes down at you, the look in his eyes turning unspeakable soft. “Yes, jagiya. Unless you aren’t feeling up to it anymore?” He looks as though the thought of leaving now pains him, but he waits patiently for your answer.

           “I wanna stay.”

           “Good. Now, what’s this about you reading the pact?”

           Having successfully turned into a sniffling mess, you wipe away your tears with an angry swipe. It’s time to come clean.

           “I found a copy in Jin’s room-”

           “What were you doing in Jin’s room?!” Yoongi whispers frantically, growing more concerned by the second. You wave him off.

           “-and I took it! I knew I shouldn’t, but I just wanted to know, you know? So I stole it but that was stupid because then I saw that thing on the back…the little note.” Your words trail off, unable to even say the word lovewhen Yoongi’s looking at you like he’s unsure of whether he wants to laugh or cry.

           “The little…note?”

           “Yeah, you know…” You shake your head, moving on. “And since I saw that, I’ve been a mess. Like, an actual mess. I finally called Gina help just to get some help, I needed someone to talk to because you know, I can’t talk to you guys right now which is stupid. But I’m still so lost and I screwed everything up and my ankle hurts Min Yoongi!”

           You’ve stunned yourself into silence with your outburst, Yoongi across from you looks a bit lost himself as he sits back on his heels. It’s clear the moment he comes to a realization.

           “The note.”

           It’s all you can do to breathe normally and not burst out into tears again. Yoongi’s expression turns mournful when he sees you.

           “Oh, jagiya…” leaning forward, Yoongi somehow manages to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head close to his chest, Yoongi pulls you in as close as he can. He sways gently back and forth, a hand coming up to cup your cheek to make you look at him.

           You do so begrudgingly, feeling like nothing more than a large child. However, the moment you meet his eyes, it hits you like a lightning strike.

           “Do you remember,” he begins quietly, “that time when your final paper accidentally got deleted? All you had left to do on it was add the reference page. You were distraught, remember?”

           Of course you do. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Countless hours spent laboring over a final essay for a class you loathed, only to make a stupid mistake and delete it all. All of it, all nineteen pages were gone in a blink. Your hard work along with it.

           “I remember you called me, a sobbing mess. Obviously I thought you’d hurt yourself, the way you were crying about killed me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaving you completely enraptured in his spell as he continues speaking. “I fought with Namjoon because I needed to go see you, but we had a schedule. It was an interview, I don’t even remember for what or with whom, but I was so angry. I seriously thought I was gonna punch him. Then I remembered he goes to the gym a lot more than me, so I didn’t.”

           He manages to make you crack a small grin at that. The sight spurs him on. “But I’ll never forget the sight I saw when I finally made it out to your house later that night. It was like what, two in the morning? No one knew I was even going over, which obviously I did on purpose. I didn’t want to get into another argument. When I walked in your apartment, you were sat at the kitchen table. Remember?”

           The memory is vague, tinged with exhaustion and disappointment, but it’s there. You’d set up camp at your kitchen table all day, missing all other appointments just to try to rewrite your paper. You were half delirious at that point, staring at the screen seemed equal to burning at the stake.

           “I’ve never seen you look more exhausted in my entire life,” Yoongi chuckles. “I remember I was ready to write the paper for you, I was so sad for you. But when I made it over there, I was floored to see that you’d already written it. Not only that, but you’d written twenty-seven pages. Twenty-seven! Who does that?!” He shakes his head at you, looking absolutely shocked.

           “When I asked you why you would do that, you just shrugged and said, ‘why not reach for the stars?’ Then you submitted it, stood up, walked over to me and gave me a hug before going straight to bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there for ages, trying to fathom what had just happened.”

           Yoongi sighs, glancing up at the night sky. You admire his jawline from this angle, nuzzling in a little closer to him for warmth. He notices that you didn’t bring your coat out with you, giving you a playful glare before gently rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

           “Why did you tell me that?”

           You can feel his shrug. “You are more capable, more special than you will ever know. I’ve always kept that in my heart, over the years. Why not reach for the stars? Jagiya…”

           Yoongi shuffles a little bit before cupping your chin and pointing toward the horizon where the sun has slipped down. The night sky is becoming more visible by the second, a few stray stars winking down at you.

           “Look.” He points at a certain spot in the sky just in time for you to see a streak of breathtaking light.

           A falling star.

           In the span of a few minutes, you’re completely speechless as the sky continues to darken and your eyes are glued heavenward. Gradually, more and more falling stars dart across the sky, taking your breath away. As they continue, you recall Young-mi’s words. The sky is coming to say hello.

           Yoongi reaches for your hand, easily enveloping it while tracing the outline of your knuckles.

           “You,” Yoongi breathes out, sending tingles down your spine. “Are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.”

           Heart thundering against your ribs, you turn to look at him only to find his eyes also trained on the heavens. He speaks the words softly, almost to himself, but you still catch them.

           “You’re a star, all the way up there…and I’m all the way down here. Maybe all I’m meant to do is admire you from afar. But for tonight, just for a moment, I’ll hold you.” His eyes slide down to meet yours, glinting with pure starlight. Cold and beautiful. Hurtling toward you, burning up in your atmosphere and leaving you wondering what would happen if you let him in.

           If it would lead to utter destruction or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

           All words have escaped you at this moment in time, but you don’t feel the need to scramble for some sort of a response. Instead you settle for snuggling in a bit closer, allowing Yoongi to hold you a bit tighter.

           Tonight, he’ll hold you close to his chest while what will later be recorded as the most prominent meteor shower in recent history rains down above you. The dark night sky is set aflame with streaks of silver as falling stars graze the earth, sharing a sweet goodnight kiss as they hurtle through space. You marvel at the seemingly never-ending parade the night sky puts on, relishing the way Yoongi keeps your warm as he also marvels at the wonder above you.

           There’s no words that are exchanged for the entirety of the meteor shower, the only form of communication found in the patterns Yoongi traces out against the back of your hand and the way he gazes down at you from time to time. As though making sure you’re really there.

           It’s a long while before the meteor shower begins to fade, and it’s only when you hear Yoongi softly calling your name that you realized you’ve dozed off.

           “It’s over, jagiya,” he coos, brushing hair away from your eyes. “Let’s get you to the car, then you can sleep the rest of the way home.”

           Somehow you two manage to make it to the car, you yourself being much more coherent by then due to the sharp pains in your ankle. You realize that you two are some of the few people left at the beach, making you wonder when everyone else left.

           Your eyes are half-closed when Yoongi begins to drive away, your hand finding his atop the console.

           “You know you don’t need to worry about us, right?” Yoongi mumbles out, glancing over at you with a worried expression. “We’ll support whatever you decide to do. Remember what I said before? You’re the most capable person I know. You don’t need us, not really. Just…be happy.”

           You mumble out something incoherent, not completely realizing that he’s referring to the aftermath of the pact until you’re already asleep.

           The next thing you know, you’re parked in front of your apartment and Yoongi is grinning down at you from the passenger side door.

           “C’mon,” he urges, helping you out of the car. “Careful with the ankle.”

           “Mmm.”

           It takes a bit of careful maneuvering to get up the stairs to your apartment, but you manage to make it. Leaning up against the door, you fumble for your keys.

           Once you’ve found them, you hand them straight over to Yoongi. You’re far too tired to attempt unlocking your door at the moment. He laughs at your behavior, shooting you a proud gummy smile when he unlocks the door. You don’t even have to ask before he’s assisting you inside, helping you hobble to your room before turning to leave.

           “Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

           Yoongi smiles down at his shoes. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to check up on you if that’s ok?”

           We.

           Your stomach flips to remember that you’re over now with these dates. Now what-

           “Or just shoot me a text? I know that might be awkward if we all show up…”

           “Thank you. I’ll text you?” You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yoongi, I…” You trail off, staring up at him from your bed as your mind and heart races. There’s just no words.

           With a soft smile, he leans down and pecks your nose. The innocent gesture has your ears turning red, which widens his grin.

           “I know.” He whispers back.

           And then he’s gone.

           And you’re left here, suddenly colder than ever.

main masterlist

the dates are DONE. please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you! Tomorrow I'll be opening up a poll for your top two dates, so stay tuned for that! 

alsooo stay tuned this week because I may have a lil bonus chapter for you guys 

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @delacyrose224  @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger  @beepbeep11 @extraordinary_reads @vntwishlist @aussiebeachbabes​ @hitsussi @hannah2291 @alwaysasadaesthetic​ 

[amazingphilza]

snapchat :: c!tommy x reader

fluff / angst , platonic , gender neutral ! first request whoop whoop :D [check pinned for more info on requests]

synopsis: ‘what’s so bad about adding every person on snapchat?’ tommy thought. unknowingly, with all the other people he begins talking to during exile, one ends up being you; tubbo’s younger sibling. that is until you both visit tommy in logstedshire.

cw: i purposely misspell a few words for the texting part, i hope it’s still readable for y’all! and i haven’t actually used snapchat in years so let’s pretend i know what i’m doing :)

tommy smiled at his brand new phone

first thing he does? install snapchat and reddit

if he couldn’t talk to his best friends face to face anymore, at least he had people online to talk to, right?

tommy hoped from all his possessions dream would destroy, he could at least keep a phone

without much thought, tommy opened snapchat and began adding every account and messaging them the same obnoxious message

BE MY FRIEND . MESSAGE BACK NOW.

most people chose ignore tommy, not having a clue why he was messaging them

but as for you, when you had the notification that someone added you on snapchat and started aggressively messaging you, it made you curious

you read their user

“wife haver”?? huh???

instead of immediately blocking the person, you replied back

what?

not even less than a second later you get a reply back

OH MY GOD FINALLY SOMEONE

IM DYING

without context, you were more than confused

genuinely dying is very alarming but you shouldn’t text a random stranger your last words

huh?

THE GREEN BASTARD TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME

YOURE ALL I HAVE LEFT

plwase helo

Help

where did tou go

Ohm hgod

hHello?

NOOOO NOT YOU TOO

PLEASR

you laughed at the person’s desperation and ignored the messages

if the stranger wasn’t going introduce themselves, you wouldn’t either

however, after a while you realized you had over 100 snapchat notifications within an hour of trying to ignore the person

however it was just jumbled up words and useless spam, nothing important

as if the stranger would said anything important to your concern anyway

do you ever shut up??

fuck you

a normal person wouldve taken offense by these messages but you found them quite amusing

it wasn’t like you had anything else better to do

and this acceptance was the start of your odd friendship with the stranger

you were still on edge because you had no idea who they were and their intentions but the anonymity was mutual nonetheless

if the desperate spamming “wife haver” isn’t going to formally tell you who they actually were, you weren’t going to risk exposing yourself first

but in the past few weeks, you and the person had normal conversations apart from the first day they messaged you

well as normal as you could’ve expected from someone named “wife haver”

they were the first to send an actual snap as well

that was when you found out the “wife haver” was an obnoxious boy that looked around your age, maybe a slightly older

he had sent you a photo of him holding a thumbs up and trying to smile when he was clearly upset

just got all my stuff exploded again, feeling good

you noticed his messy blonde hair and tattered clothes

what the hell happened to this guy?

part of you was confused, and the other was concerned

u good bro??

well

i don’t have anymore tools and materials if that’s anything

so no

this is shit

lmao it was probably deserved

FUCK YOU!!!!!

im kidding that’s sad

but like do u actually need stuff?

you contemplated sending your next message and thought of the consequences

but in the end, you were probably better off than him so if he did try to do something suspicious, you could easily just leave with your trident or defend yourself

i can bring some things over if you’d like

please oh my god it’s so boring here

where the hell do you even live???

it finally hit that you would be visiting this mysterious person

you never really had much to do during the day and he had nothing against your enchanted netherite armor when compared to his worn-out clothes

you were surprised that he was quick to be comfortable with you visiting him so continued to message the boy

if you live nearby i can just stop over and bring some spare diamond tools and armor if you’d like or smth

DIAMOND !,?’/:@!?:/-',(

ya sure lol

WTF

GOOD SHIT LAD! THANKS

WHEN DO U WANT TO VISIT???

his shock and excitement made you smile

maybe this wasn’t a bad idea

before replying, you quickly ran to your storage room you gather your spare items

instead of normally texting, you decided to take a picture of all the enchanted tools and armor and send back a snap

i’m down for tomorrow, turn on your snapmaps so i can come by ;D

he quickly replied back with handfuls of ‘holy shits’ and ‘YEAHS’

you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear which caught the attention of your older brother who had just walked in to get blocks from the wall of chests

“ew why are you smiling at your phone like that?”

“oh shut up, tubbo”

“it’s weird”

you roll your eyes at him in a playful matter

“whatever! i’m gonna be out tomorrow to visit a friend, okay?”

“you have friends? wow, sounds like a first”

“you’re such a dick!!” you yell at him whilst trying to hold in your laughter

“oh yeah? go on, tell me about this friend of yours then. meeting strangers online, hm?”

“if you’re so concerned, you can come with if you’re not busy with whatever a president does. i promise they’re not some weirdo like you”

tubbo’s tone was sarcastic but he agreed then left you to your own thoughts

you were excited for tomorrow that you were restless in your bed when nighttime had came

somehow you managed to fall asleep from tiredness in the middle of the night

soon enough it was morning

before doing anything, you checked your phone and went through all your notifications

you then checked snapchat, browsing snapmaps and realized how far you had to travel

despite the long travel, you brought yourself up from your bed and gathered all the items you were going to bring

you stuffed a full set of enchanted diamond armor, tools, and over a stack of golden carrots all in your inventory

after finishing all your preparations, you searched for your older brother

with just a loud yell of his name he appeared almost instantly

“you ready to go, tubbo?”

“yep! you know where you’re going right?”

you scoffed at the question

“of course!”

and with that, the two of you traveled on foot until you reached the ocean

you had brought 2 boats with you knowing that you couldn’t imagine being in the same boat as your brother; it would’ve ended up in endless bickering

after a while of being at sea, tubbo started to become impatient

“what the hell! how far does this person live, y/n??”

“i dunno!”

you knew the general direction you were supposed to be going to after studying your snapmaps all morning but you couldn’t check how much farther it would take to get there; there was obviously no signal in the middle of the ocean

it felt like forever before you saw land in the horizon

suddenly you regained all the energy you have lost from rowing

“there!! that place with the white tent, i can barely see it”

“finally”

with the burst of energy, you got to land in no time

the moment you got off your boat, the blonde spotted the two of you and ran in your direction

once appearing nearly feet apart, he stared at your brother who also had the shocked expression

“TOMMY?”

“TUBBO?”

your brother had more of a confused expression whilst the other boy seemed a bit mad

maybe he was always mad considering the endless conversations you had with him ranting about some ‘green bastard’

but tubbo quickly got defensive, stepping in front of you

you didn’t understand how they knew each other beforehand, but at the same time you never caught up with tubbo’s friends either

you needed answers

“what’s going on?”

“y/n! you were messaging tommy this whole time? why didn’t you tell me?”

tubbo was clearly frustrated and a feeling of guilt washed over you

it didn’t click that you never exchanged names and admitting it did not seem believable

tubbo was in complete shock, trying to process everything that was happening

“WHAT?! AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TALKING?”

you mumbled out your words

“a few weeks, i can’t remember”

“uh, yeah sorry” tommy had confirmed your statements. “i didn’t even know you had a sibling, tubbo! i actually didn’t know their name until now as well..”

“HUH??”

“but if i knew i was messaging a tub-ling, i wouldn’t have in the first place!”

“what the fuck tommy!!!”

“no, but how do you even know each other?” you had interrupt the two

tubbo had chosen his words carefully

“we’re... friends”

tommy had seemed upset at this

“tubbo....”

“no, don’t talk to me, tommy. you were exiled for a reason. y/n? give him the stuff you wanted to him and let’s go, this was a waste of time”

you were saddened but obliged, you didn’t want to anger your brother even more

“fuck you, tubbo! can’t believe this was how you visit me for the first time, i don’t even want your pity shit”

before you could react, tubbo led you to the back of his boat

he got in the front and quickly rowed away from the land you barely stayed on, leaving your boat behind on the shores

you looked back at tommy who already had left back to his tent

the boat ride was silent and full of sorrow until you arrived back at l’manburg

once you got home you immediately opened snapchat to message tommy

hey tommy i’m really sorry about today. i had no idea,,,

you thought he would’ve ignored your message but instead replied right after

but your heart sank at reading the message

it’s fine

i think it’s best we stop talking y/n

you didn’t want to lose a friend so quickly but after all the tension from today, you didn’t know how to come back from it

so instead of arguing you agreed, even if it wasn’t honest

yeah, me too

and that was the last message you sent to tommy

even though the whole situation was confusing from the start, it didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the random conversations you had

the bizarre encounter was unforgettable

it made you even sadder when you realized the first time you two used each other’s names through text would also be the last

a/n: ngl, i didn’t think i would finish this on a kinda angsty ending but here we are! and grrr it’s 4am and i just wanted to finish this,, let’s hope there aren’t that many grammar mistakes LMAO anyway i hope y’all enjoyed <3

[samsoleil]

okay okay so. homeschooled au. essentially, sam and dean were homeschooled by john and now they're codependent (surprise surprise). let's pick up (more or less) where we left off, huh?

Sammy doesn't know how to freaking talk to people. Actually, correction: Sam talks to people like people talk in books, like people talk on TV. Dean swears, every time he meets someone new he has the same routine. This bubbly, "Hi, how are you?" that they saw in a TV show in Michigan, "I'm Sam, and this is Dean" from a book he read in Wisconsin, and that's about it.

It's still new, seeing people. But he's getting better every day, pausing for less and less time, and sure, he still hides behind Dean a lot of the time, but he's still small enough that all the moms coo like the news presenters when they see something cute. Dean's been watching the news in the cafes they go to, trying to figure out how to say "I'm sorry, he's shy" the way they do in Nevada, which is where they are now. Dean's not the biggest fan of talking, gets tired as hell afterwards, but he can fumble his way through a conversation with the waitstaff without adopting that deer-in-the-headlights look Sam gets when they go off-script.

The only people they really need to talk to are each other, and Sam and Dean manage that just fine.

Once Dean's finished ordering for them (the waitress asks if he's from out of town and he names the nearest city he knows, but she doesn't call him out on the accent, so he must be doing a pretty good job), he turns back to Sam, seated unhappily on the bench across from him, intently reading the menu.

"Sammy," Dean calls, and Sam looks up.

"It's Sam," he says, routine.

Dean raises an eyebrow and fans his fingers, palm facing Sam, tilting his hand from left to right. Sam's nose crinkles, then scrunches his mouth to the side and cocks his head towards the kitchens.

And yeah, Dean feels the same way. It's not the safest, going around in public like this, but they've gotta eat somehow. It's been two weeks since they were meant to meet back up with Dad, and every day has left Sam feeling more and more anxious. But they're being careful. They know how Dad usually evades people, CPS and the police and those hunters that they met when Sam was 7, and they've bastardised it into their own version. Two steps forward, one step back.

Sam asks him how he's doing, the same fanning motion, and Dean copies Sam, who softly kicks him under the table. Dean exaggerates his response, groaning in pain and reaching underneath to rub his knee, and Sam rolls his eyes but he's smiling, just slightly, so Dean calls that a win.

God, he doesn't know the last time Sammy smiled. It’s a scary thing to think, that Sam just stopped smiling one day and Dean didn’t even notice. Sammy looks the same as he always has, until Dean actually looks and realises that he’s grown older without him realising. And it's awful, but whenever Dean looks at Sam, he pictures the way he looked in that motel room. Not when Dean walked in, but after, when Dean told him they were leaving and Sam looked at him like he'd discovered the holy grail, or something. Dean sees it superimposed on top of him, all Sam's ugly crying made beatific by that relief, the rush Dean had felt when he saw it.

(He'd fallen apart after Sammy fell asleep, still curled up in his arms and so, so small. He'd felt something break, leaving him doubled over and aching, burying his face in Sam's soft hair and just breathing him in, warmth and life and Sammy. Dean's never been so scared. He hopes he never has to feel that scared again.)

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Dean huffs out a breath and starts tapping his pointer finger against the table, and Sam glares.

"Sleeping ugly?" Dean asks, and Sam rolls his eyes, all attitude.

"I slept just fine, thank you," he says, and they both know it's a lie. "You should- you should be more patient."

And that's when Dean knows something's wrong, because Sammy was the one to pick that one. He read about the cardinal virtues in one of Bobby's books, and spent the next weeks cajoling Dean in Latin.

"Temperantia," Dean says, "Dude, what gives?"

Sam gestures that he doesn't want to talk about it, but that's not an option at the moment, sorry, kiddo. Sam pulls a bitchface, which quickly disappears when Dean widens his eyes, looking over Sam's shoulder, and Sam wriggles around in his seat to see their pancakes making their way towards them.

"Alrighty, then!" their waitress, Isabelle, says brightly. "I've got one vanilla with fruit and one choc chip."

Dean nods his head towards Sam. "That one's vanilla."

"Thank you," Sam says with careful precision as the waitress places the plate down in front of them.

Dean watches the lady serving them bite her lip to hide a smile.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she says, and Dean looks at Sam to see his mouth shaping the words.

"Thanks," Dean says, and she gives him a warm nod before leaving.

When she's gone, Sam takes a large enough bite of his pancake that he has a reason for not answering. And Dean's stomach is growling, so he guesses they're eating first. Except neither of them have ever been any good at eating slowly, and this is the first meal they’ve had since yesterday night, so this won’t stop Dean for long. Plus, Dean’s rushing.

“Sibling tax,” he says, claiming an apple slice from Sam’s plate. Sam sighs around his mouthful, and Dean will never admit it, but fruit goes ridiculously well with choc chip pancakes, what the hell.

When he’s finished, he places his knife and fork in the centre of the plate, like they do in those cooking shows, and he waits for Sam to be done. It doesn’t take long, and then Sam is pushing away his plate in favour of fidgeting, hands half forming nonsensical words and phrases. Colours, how are you, storm, guest, storm. Dean just waits. Temperantia.

Finally, Sam confesses. “I’m practicing.”

“Practicing what, talking? Sammy, you know how to talk.”

“With you,” Sam says, but the emphasis on the ‘you’ is just slightly off and yeah, okay, maybe the kid does need to practice. “I can’t- I can’t talk to anyone else.”

“And practicing with me helps?”

“It tells,” Sam says with a shrug.

“I don’t have a tell,” Dean protests.

“You do.”

“I don’t!”

“Do.”

“Don’t!”

“Do.”

“Well, then, what is it, Mr Pokerface?”

Sam’s hand curves sadness into the air, and Dean isn’t as hungry anymore. Because, fine, Dean blames himself. Dad brought it up all the time, how difficult it was to teach him how to read, how long it took him to talk. And he’s just fine at it now - yeah, it’s tiring, but that’s because nobody else is as smart as Sam, so every conversation just goes so slowly - but Sam, for all that he’s the biggest geek Dean has ever met, has always found it harder to talk with people that aren’t Dean. Even when he was talking with Dad, half the time he’d be restarting the same sentence until it came out the way he wanted it to.

And Dean knows that he’s the reason why. Because for all his life, he’s been so caught up in talking with Sam that he’s never thought about Sam talking with anyone else.

“It’s not your fault,” Sammy says, “Practice makes perfect. I’m a quick learner.”

The kid’s got a point, because Dean’s pretty sure he knows more than Dean does at this point. And that’s not Dean being jealous. He’s proud, so proud that it sometimes hurts. He couldn’t be jealous, not when it’s Sam. Not when he sees him at every age, yammering on about whatever at a hundred miles a minute but still taking the time to explain it to Dean. And if Sam’s right, then Dean’s smart, too, just in a different way. And Sam hasn’t been wrong about Dean yet.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam returns, and Dean leans across the table to trace a circle around his heart.

Sam lifts his hands to bat Dean away but when Dean gestures for Baby on his chest through his shirt he instead grabs Dean’s hand in his, resting them there for a second, and Dean loves him, he loves him.

“Gold,” Sam says, eyes big, and Dean pulls a face at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replies, tugging his hand out of Sam’s softly and pulling it back.

He mentally shakes himself, blinking, and Sam settles back in his seat. Chapter closed on that conversation. Sam’ll keep practicing, Dean will keep giving him shit; between the two of them, they’ll turn Pinocchio into a real boy. Sam spears a strawberry with his fork and eats it, pulling a face. He’s full, but they don’t want to waste food. Maybe they can get a container to go or something. Dean nods at Sam and the frown clears.

Dean looks around, making eye contact with Isabelle. She nods acknowledgement and weaves her way to their booth.

“Migist?” Dean asks, and Sam nods, pushing his plate slightly further away.

“Anything I can get you boys?” she asks, and Dean puts on an easy smile.

“Yeah, could we get the leftovers to go?” he asks. He’s pretty sure he’s read that phrase before.

Isabelle smiles, amused, and shit, Dean’s said it wrong, god, she’s going to know-

“You know, you boys are the just the most polite little things,” she says, and okay, Dean doesn’t have that much of a babyface, seriously. “Sure thing, I’ll bring you a container with the bill.”

“Calm down, weirdo,” Sam says when she’s gone, the little shit.

“You try next time,” Dean shoots back.

Sam expresses that that isn’t fair but, uh, last time Dean checked, taking turns was polite. That earns him another kick.

Once they’ve paid the bill (and tipped 20%, thanks Sammy. People in movies actually have money to spend, you twerp), they step out into the late afternoon air. They drove all night and slept most of the day, but Dean is strung out from all Sam’s nervous energy. They’ll stay another night before they venture forth.

“But soft?” Sam asks, finger tracing Baby in the air.

Dean takes a second to mentally calculate how far they have to travel. They’re heading to Uncle Bobby’s place and, yeah, it’s been forever since they last saw him, but they don’t really have anyone else who’s on better terms with them than their dad. And, yeah, it’s 1.4 thousand miles in a line, but that’s not the pattern they’re making. They’ll dip past the Crow reservation and stay there for a night or two, then go from there. A thousand miles, give or take. That’ll take, what, 15 hours? Check-in’s usually around 4pm.

“Midnight,” Dean says, and Sam groans.

“You have the damned spot,” he accuses.

“It’s not gonna kill you.”

Sam’s expression says he finds the truth of that statement dubious, but Sam’s not the one driving. Dean’s blessed with the ability to pass the hell out literally wherever, so he’s had no trouble sleeping, even with Sam pressed against his side as a wriggling pile of heat. Dean’ll be fine, Sam can sleep in the car.

Sam sighs in acceptance. Dean ruffles his hair, but it’s not enough, not really. He ducks down slightly to pick Sammy up, and he comes easily, hugging Dean back just as tight. He feels Sam bury his face in Dean’s neck, feels his hummingbird heart against Dean’s chest. Sam gets worried easily. Dean hates it. He knows Sam hates it too, but for different reasons than Dean. Sam just hates having to rely on people. What he doesn’t get is that it doesn’t matter how smart he is, he’ll always be Dean’s little brother.

“C’mon, kiddo,” Dean murmurs. “Let’s head home.”

Dean feels Sam’s mouth brush against his skin when he replies.

“I’m already home.”

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 10/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Сhapter 7

Сhapter 8

Chapter 9

“We’ve been apart for so long!” Hange kissed the crown of black hair, nuzzling her nose into it. “I’ve missed you so much, my dear! I love you more than anyone else in this world, yes, yes, I do.”

“Are you finished already?” Levi asked, scowling darkly. “Or are you going to continue making out with my dog?”

“I’m just saying hello to my favorite boy!” Hange giggled, and Grim licked her face happily. “Well, my second favorite boy,” she corrected, shooting Levi a mischievous grin.

“Get the fuck off the floor, four-eyes,” he lightly kicked her thigh. “Before your butt freezes.”

“Fine, fine, Grim, get off me, boy,” the dog complied instantly, and Hange outstretched her hand, signaling Levi that she needed help with getting up. Levi rolled his eyes, but obeyed too. Hange stood up, dusting her pants. “A certain someone likes my butt so much, he doesn’t want it to freeze.”

“Take your shoes off,” Levi grunted, way above responding to Hange’s taunts. Whatever he thought about her butt wasn’t any of her business anyway.

“Ah, this place hasn’t changed a bit!” Hange exclaimed, as she walked further into Levi’s apartment.

“What did you expect?” Levi followed after her. “Some big renovations?”

“Maybe?” Hange shrugged. “I was actually worried some cutie lives here now.”

Levi stared at the back of her head, lost and confused. She was worried? About some cutie?

What the fuck?

“You know,” Hange continued. “Some adorable little thing who managed to steal the heart of Levi Ackerman himself.”

“Nothing of the sort happened, as you can see,” he said, his face blank despite his obvious discomfiture.  

Adorable little thing stealing his heart? What a bunch of nonsense, Levi thought. Even if there was someone, capable of stealing his heart, it would be a loud, messy idiot who stood a good few inches above him.

“You don’t need a tour around the house, I hope?” he asked.

“Of course not, I remember it better than my own.”

“Good, then settle down, I’ll go on a walk with Grim.”

“Aw, you’re taking him away from me already?” Hange pouted, crouching in front of the dog. Grim licked her pout away, making Hange giggle. And eliciting an annoyed tsk from his owner.

“Let’s go,” he fastened a leash to Grim’s collar. He then looked back at Hange. “Try not to ruin my house while I’m gone, alright?”

“Sure!” she showed him thumb-ups.

Levi shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “I won’t be gone for too long. Oh, and Hange,” he glanced at her briefly, before turning away. “Welcome home.”

 ***

“Um, Levi?” Hange called seconds after he returned from his walk with Grim. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he gave Grim a treat and motioned for him to stay put, walking towards the bedroom, from where Hange’s voice was coming from.

Levi walked in and saw that Hange was standing in front of his wardrobe.

Oh. She wanted to ask him about that.

Understandable.

“I know how that it looks kinda creepy…” he rubbed his forehead, feeling more than a little bit embarrassed.

“That’s my old clothes, right?”

Well, there was no pointing in denying that.

“Yes,” Levi said, giving Hange a courtesy of looking her straight in the eyes. “I was the one, who cleaned your apartment after, well, you know…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, throwing them away seemed like a waste, so…”

“Thanks!” Hange beamed.

Levi frowned. “You’re not… mad or something?”

“Of course, not, silly! I’m actually quite happy. I’ve missed this pullover so much!” Hange took the piece of clothing out, throwing it at Levi’s bed. “And this sweater!” it followed the path of a pullover. “And this shirt! And—”

“Okay, stop.” Levi grabbed her hand, preventing Hange from making a total mess on his bed. “I’ve got it, you don’t mind me being a weirdo, my bed has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh right,” Hange chuckled, shrugging helplessly. “Sorry about that. I can—”

“I’ll clean this out,” Levi cut her off. “You go ahead and take a shower.”

That put a pout on Hange’s face. “But I’ve already had one this morning…”

That was an improvement, Levi was actually impressed. Still, it wasn’t enough.

“I’m not letting you sleep in my bed until I make sure that you’re fresh and clean, four-eyes.”

“What!” Hange squealed. “You want me to sleep in your bed?”

“Do you wish to spend the night at my shitty old sofa? With Grim drooling all over you?” Levi bluntly countered. “I thought to take that place myself, but if you’re so eager...”

“But I can’t just kick you out of your own bed. Let me take the sofa.”

“You’re a guest, four-eyes. Take the fucking bed.” He gritted, annoyed by her stubbornness.

“Fine!” Hange threw her hands in the air. “If you’re so dead set on this, I’ll take the bed.” Levi’s lips almost curled into a victorious smirk. “But you’re sharing it with me.”

And the celebratory expression disappeared without a trace.

“…What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s share the bed. You take one side, I take the other, no one sleeps on the sofa, we both sleep on a bed. Together.”

We both sleep on a bed. Together.

These words made blood rush to his face. He just recently discovered that he might be harboring some kind of feelings for Hange. He didn’t know yet just what kind of feelings. He didn’t know when all of that had started and what make of it. So sharing a bed… seemed like they were rushing things a bit.

“Isn’t that weird?” he asked, trying to find a way out of this situation. Preferably without revealing to Hange just what exactly was weirding him out so much.

“I don’t think so, no.” Hange shrugged. “I mean, we’ve shared the bed before.”

“It was one time,” Levi said, understanding exactly what she meant. “And we didn’t share a bed. You fell on top of me while we were napping on a sofa in the office.”

“That wasn’t the only time we’ve shared the bed, though,” Hange remarked. “Remember Erwin’s birthday party?”

“We were drunk,” Levi crossed hands on his chest. “And technically we weren’t sharing.”

“How so?”

“You were sleeping between Erwin and me. It’s not sharing.”

“It is!” Hange huffed. “I was sharing a bed with you and Erwin. Your hands were on my waist! That counts as sharing.”

Oh. His hands were on her waist? Levi’s mind thankfully obscured that detail.

“And if it makes you feel less awkward, it wouldn’t be just us in this bed tonight too.”

“Huh?”

“Grim,” Hange smiled. “I’m sure he’ll join us too.”

Levi scowled. “He is not allowed on a bed.”

“Sure,” her smile turned into a smirk. “Keep lying, Ackerman.”  

“Fine,” he shook his head. “I’ll go wash Grim and prepare a bath for you. And then you’ll shut up, take a bath and we’ll go to sleep. It’s late and I had a hell of a day because of you.”

“I’ll go make tea for us in the meanwhile,” she moved past Levi, heading to the kitchen. She stopped when she was right next to him and left a kiss on his cheek. Levi’s heart did a flip. “Thanks for everything,” she whispered, before disappearing into a kitchen.

Levi stood there, with a hand pressed to his cheek, gently touching the place Hange kissed for an embarrassingly long moment. He would have continued to remain frozen on that spot, if it weren’t for Grim, who started to whine loudly, getting impatient of waiting for Levi to snap out of it and take care of him.

“Shit,” he cursed, running a hand through his hair. Just what Hange was doing to him? “I’m coming!” he yelled, hurrying to his pet.

 ***

Levi put his hands around Hange, pulling her closer. He inhaled her faint scent and smiled, tracing the contour of her shoulder with his nose.

Hange turned in their embrace, facing Levi. She looked him in the eyes, the corners of her lips lifting in a soft, loving smile.

“It’s so good to be reunited, isn’t it? After long two years of being apart?”

“Yes,” Levi breathed out, unable to do anything but stare at her, devotion shining in his eyes.

“Do you think this is going to last?” her voice was honeyed, sweet. Too sweet, Levi realized as Hange’s smile changed. It wasn’t soft. Or loving. It was cold and cruel. “Do you think you can make me stay?”

Hange shook her head, disappointment replacing the once tender expression. Before Levi could say anything, ask her a question or give her some kind of an answer, she disappeared, slipping between his fingers. Like she wasn’t even there. Levi stared at the now empty space beside him with widened, shocked eyes.

“No,” he whispered weakly, grasping the sheet, where Hange just laid. “No, don’t go, don’t leave me alone, not again.”

He was cold, and the room around him was dark. It pressed on him, making him feel like a small frightened boy. The panic gripped and ceased him, suffocating him in its tight, loveless embrace.

And then— as though out of nowhere, there were warm hands on his face and gentle, insisting voice in his ear, calling out his name, repeating it again and again.

Unable to resist, he followed it.

He opened his eyes and he was still in his room, but— it was different from before. It wasn’t engulfed in darkness anymore, the lamp on his bedside table illuminating everything, and he wasn’t alone, Hange— Hange was hovering above him.

She was looking at him with a mixture of worry and confusion, her hair was out of the usual ponytail and seemed to be even more of a mess, the glasses were gone too and Hange was squinting, which made her look like a disheveled, one-eyed owl.

She looked ridiculous, Levi thought. He wanted to stare at her for hours.

“Levi?” she asked in a quiet whisper.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he said, embarrassment making his voice even gruffer than usual. “Go back to sleep.”

He turned away from her, switching off the lamp. A couple of minutes passed and the room was still silent. Levi closed his eyes, hoping that Hange was merciful enough to spare him and forget about the whole incident.

Of course, that was foolish of him. Hange forgetting about something? Nothing more than a wishful thinking on his part.

“Hey,” Hange called. “Do you want to talk about that?”

“No.”

“I do.” She said matter-of-factly. “You had a nightmare.”

Levi snorted. “Great deduction, detective Zoe.”

“That nightmare was about me.” It wasn’t a question, but Hange still paused for a second, giving Levi a chance to confirm or deny it. He remained silent. Hange took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You’re… suffering because of me—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off harshly, preventing her from spitting out even more nonsense. “You came back, Hange. You’re here now. That’s more than I could ask for.”

“Come here.”

Suddenly, there was a hand on his arm, turning him around.

“I want cuddles.” Hange explained with a silly grin.

“I don’t.” Levi glowered.

“Yes, you do,” she threw her arm over him, laying a head on his chest. “He does want to cuddle, right, Grim?”

Grim, who was lying at the foot of the bed answered by putting his head on Levi’s leg.

“Good grief,” Levi muttered, wrapping his hand around Hange’s shoulder. She nuzzled into his chest with a contended sigh.

Levi was glad that the room was dark this time. It made it easier for him to hide a smile.

***

“So!” Hange rubbed her hands in anticipation, looking around the police precinct with an excited smile. “What’s our plan of action?”

“I’m catching up on all of my paperwork.” Levi said. “You sit tight and watch me work.”

“Boring,” Hange answered flippantly. “Didn’t we use to visit forensics first thing in the morning? You know, to get updates about the clues and stuff?”

“There are no clues, remember?”

“Right,” she scratched her chin. “But, maybe, they found something?”

“They would have informed me already.”

“Maybe, they forgot?”

Levi sighed. “You just want to visit the forensic department, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Hange agreed with a shrug. “Shall we?”

“You go,” he gave her a slight push. “There is something I need to do first.”

“Eh?” a confused crease formed between Hange’s eyebrows. “And where are you going?”

“I’ll join you soon.” Hange continued to stare at him. She put hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, silently demanding a more detailed answer. Levi sighed again. “I’m going to get my tea. And then I’ll come back, alright?”

“Oh,” Hange snickered, giving him an amused look. “Alright, go get your tea, shorty, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Detective Ackerman! Detective Zoe!” before Hange and Levi could go their separate ways, a man approached them. To Levi, he looked distinctly familiar.

“Oluo!” Hange greeted with a smile, bringing Levi up to a speed.

Right, Oluo Bozard, a police technician and Petra’s old colleague. A man who was foolish enough to follow through with her reckless schemes.

“How is Petra?” Hange asked, while Levi was too busy glaring holes at the man. “Did you two get back home safely last night?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you actually,” Oluo rubbed his neck. “Petra, haven’t you two seen her? She doesn’t pick up the phone and she isn’t at your office.”

“Since this weirdo is with me today,” Levi pointed to Hange, earning a playful punch to the arm from her. “I texted Petra this morning, told that she can have a day off. She’s probably still sleeping.”

“Poor thing,” Hange shook her head. “She must be so exhausted.”

“Oh,” Oluo nodded. “I was starting to get worried, but Petra is just lazing around? A weight of my shoulders,” he wiped the imaginary sweat from his forehead and smiled. “Thank you, detectives. Have a good day!”

“You too!” Hange waved at him, then turned to Levi. “Don’t take too long, shorty, I’ll be downstairs.”

“Just… be careful, four-eyes.”

“Huh?”

Levi gave her a knowing look, as corners of his lips curled into a small smirk. “They don’t know about your miraculous resurrection. Don’t give our scientists a heart attack, alright?”

Hange snorted, clasping his shoulder in delight. “I’ll try my best,” she promised, before hurrying to the stairwell that led to the forensics department.

“What an idiot…” Levi whispered, watching her go with a fond look in his eyes.

  ***

Moving on her tiptoes, Hange carefully made her way down the stairs. She slowly and quietly approached the entrance to forensic department, and then carefully touched the handle, remembering that it used to have an extremely annoying habit of rattling very loudly every time someone moved it.

Two years later, and that particular problem still hadn’t been solved. She softly gripped the handle and turned it, trying to be as stealthy as possible.

She took all the precautions not because she wanted to give the scientists a heart attack, as Levi had so bluntly put it. She just… wished to see a look of shock and surprise on their faces. It would be hilarious, Hange thought, already anticipating Moblit’s wide-eyed and pale-faced look, Nifa’s squeal, Keiji’s shout and Abel’s cursing.

It would be hysterical. Levi would regret not coming with her.

With that in mind, Hange threw the door to forensics department open. “Hey, guys!” she yelled, waiting for the gasps of surprise to reach her ears.

They never did.

Nifa, Moblit, Keiji and Abel all ran out to see her. There were wide smiles on their faces and happiness shining in their eyes.

No shock, though. No surprise. Hange couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Did the miraculous returns of the people who were presumed dead for two years become such a common thing nowadays? Not worthy even a single ‘what the fuck’?

“We missed you so much!” Nifa wrapped her arms around Hange’s neck, bringing her down to a hug. Hange embraced her back, forgetting about her chagrin for a moment.

“What are you standing there for?” Nifa scolded, turning around. “It’s supposed to be a group hug, you idiots!”

Laughing in embarrassment, Moblit was the first to join Nifa. Keiji and Abel, complaining about Nifa’s bossiness in hushed murmurs, were quick to follow her order as well.

“Ah, guys, I missed you too,” Hange sighed, happy as ever. Having four people curled around her body wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Hange felt warm, she felt loved and appreciated.

She felt at home.

  ***

“So who ratted me out?” Hange asked, after Keiji had put a cup of coffee and a plate of Nifa’s delicious cheesecake in front of her. “Who told you that I’m not actually dead? Was that Levi, that blabbering gossiping midget?”

“Um, no?” Abel answered with a confused frown. He had some troubles imagining Levi as blabbering. Or gossiping. Or anything else, except a menacingly looking, constantly scowling man.

“Then was it Erwin?” throwing a piece of cheesecake in her mouth, Hange leaned closer, watching all of them carefully. “Did that handsome bastard finally grow tired of keeping my secret and decided to spill it out for everyone?”

“It wasn’t him either,” Nifa smiled. “It was Petra who told us.”

“Petra?”

“Yeah, you know,” Moblit chimed in. “Detective Ackerman’s new partner.”

“Of course, I know Petra,” a wide smile appeared on Hange’s lips. “She’s such a sweet girl. I take it, you already bonded with her?”

“She’s nice,” Keiji shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“And very kind,” Moblit agreed.

“And so fricking pretty!” Nifa added. “If that idiot Oluo ever grows tired of her…”

“Sorry, Nifa,” Hange chuckled, patting the girl’s hand sympathetically. “But I saw them the other day. If anyone is going to grow tired, it’s definitely not Oluo.”

“What a shame,” Nifa stared into her cup of coffee, shaking her head.

“By the way, Hange,” Abel said, diverting attention from heartbroken Nifa. “I’ve gotta say, the eyepatch looks good on you.”

“Yes!” Nifa perked up. “You look so badass.”

“Ah, you think so?” Hange touched the eyepatch with her fingers, a look of self-doubt painting her features.

“You look cool as hell,” Keiji assured her with a warm smile.

Hange’s cheek reddened slightly, as she gave a small nod, silently thanking everyone for the compliment.

“Where is detective Ackerman?” Moblit asked suddenly. “Is he not going to join us?”

“He doesn’t trust your taste in tea, so he went to get his own,” Hange explained with a fond look. “He’ll be there in a moment.”

“What an insufferable little man!” Nifa muttered with a dark expression. “We still keep his favorite brand of tea,” she huffed irritably. “If only he visited us more often, he’d know that.”

“Why are you here today?” Abel questioned Hange. “Does that mean—”

“That it’s a ‘bring your best friend to work’ day?” Hange forced out a laugh, pushing her glasses up.

“So you won’t… return?” Moblit looked into her eyes. His sad, disappointed look broke Hange’s heart.

She took a breath, turning her gaze away. “I don’t know if I’ll return,” she said earnestly. “But… I really want to.”

“So!” she clasped her hands together, destroying the tense silence that fell over the room after her words. “Do you have a nice, horribly mutilated corpse to show me?”

“Oh,” Nifa smirked, her eyes glinting wickedly. “We have just what you need.”

  ***

Levi leaned against the doorway, unnoticed by everyone. With Hange at the center of the table, it didn’t surprise him. He watched her exchange jokes with the others, smile and laugh, and he thought – finally, everything is as it should be.

He realized he had missed not just Hange, he had missed this, a life he used to have, a routine he was accustomed to, a routine that disappeared ever since Hange was gone.

He missed coming down there with Hange, missed listening to her nerdy conversations with their colleagues and looking at the disgusting, revolting corpses with her, missed dragging her out of the forensics department and into their office, forcing her to get to actual work.

He wondered if this life was ever going to return. He desperately hoped so.

“Hey, detective Ackerman!” Abel’s friendly voice distracted Levi from his gloomy thoughts. “Come join us, the tea is getting cold!”

“We still have your favorite brand, by the way,” Nifa scolded him, wearing a disgruntled expression. “You would have known this, if you actually visited us more often than once in a lifetime.”

“Sorry,” Levi mumbled. Nifa’s strict voice and vicious glare actually made him feel bad. “Thanks for the tea.”

“I saved you a place!” Hange said, standing up.

“And where are you going?” Levi narrowed his eyes, suspicion swirling in his gaze.

“Nifa and I have some business in the dissection room,” Hange leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She promised me a cool corpse!”

“Ugh,” Levi pushed her away. “You don’t change,” he told her. His voice sounded much fonder than he intended it to.

“Yeah, love you too,” Hange ruffled his hair and left, hurrying after Nifa.                

His heart skipped a beat at that. Levi stared in the distance for a long moment, failing to calm his racing heart.

“Detective?” Moblit carefully touched his elbow. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” he gritted through teeth, snapping out of his stupor. “Don’t you dare to say a word,” Levi threatened, scowling at Moblit, Keiji and Abel.

He picked up his cup, hiding a blush behind it. Damn Hange and her annoying ability to always embarrass him. That part of her he most certainly didn’t miss.

  ***

“If watching me work gets you so damn interested,” Levi muttered without looking up from a mountain of paperwork on his desk. “Then lend a fucking hand, four-eyes.”

“Don’t distract me,” she chided, throwing a paper plane right in the middle of his desk. “I’m thinking.”

“Thinking?” Levi crumpled the plane in his hands, changing its trajectory into a trashcan. “I wasn’t aware you could do that. New skill of yours?”

“Asshole,” another paper plane hit him in the side of his head. Levi cursed, crumpling this one with much more force. “If you’re such a douche, I won’t tell you what I was thinking about.”

Oh. That got Levi curious.

“I’m listening,” he said. He sat back in his chair, directing his gaze on Hange. The paperwork lay forgotten on his desk. Levi ignored it. He also ignored Erwin’s voice in his head that reminded him that he was supposed to finish all of it today. He was working for over an hour now. He deserved a small break.  

“Well,” Hange huffed, raising her nose up in distain. “Now I don’t want to tell you.”

“Hange,” Levi took a paper from his desk, crumpled and threw it at her, making her look at him. “I’m listening,” he said, looking her in the eye.

Hange’s demeanor changed instantly. She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “You would think I’m stupid…” she quietly mumbled.

“I already know that you’re stupid, four-eyes, so, c’mon, spill it out already.”

“After all this is over…” Hange began, drawing invisible patterns on the surface of her desk. “You know the murders and that shit with Zeke… do you think I can come back?”

“Hange,” Levi looked at her seriously. “Tell me one thing, please – are you an idiot?”

Hange glanced up, blinking in surprise. “…What?”

“You saw how much everyone misses you today, and you still have any doubts about coming back?”

“I doubt it’d be so easy…” Hange fumbled with her thumbs. “I’m presumed dead, after all.”

Levi rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I’m pretty sure Erwin can clear that out in no time.”

“But after those two years, would I be able to… fit it?”

“You’re definitely an idiot,” Levi declared, biting his tongue from saying something much worse. “Tell me one goddamn reason why you wouldn’t fit in.”

Hange shrugged, studying her nails so intently like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You have a new partner now.”

“That’s… what got you so worried?” Levi spoke, his voice full of surprise.

“Well… I just don’t want another partner, I guess.”

“Idiot,” Levi repeated once again. “I don’t want another partner too, I don’t think Petra is going to be very upset if Erwin finds her a new one.”

“Oh!” Hange finally looked up, her face bright and excited. “You would want to continue working with me?”

“No,” Levi said in a dead-pan voice. “Working with my best friend is absolutely awful, I hated every second of it, that’s why I was so depressed after your death.”

“Gosh, you’re such an asshole,” Hange said, a smile breaking on her face.

Levi couldn’t help but curl his lips upwards too. “And you’re an idiot.”

“Erwin would be ecstatic to have you back too,” he remarked, turning back to his papers. Looking at Hange’s smile made him think silly things. It made him want to press his lips to that smile and taste if it was really as sweet as it looked. He shook his head slightly, struggling to return his attention to work.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you were his best detective, after all.”

“Hm.” Hange frowned. “Weren’t you the precinct’s best?”

“No,” Levi said, his voice much gruffer than usual. The pen in his hand trembled from the force he was holding it with. “Without you, I wasn’t.”

“Levi…” Hange whispered.

She stood up suddenly, the scraping noise from her chair filling the too quiet room. She walked up to his desk and sat at the edge of it. She slowly reached out to him, curling her hand around his shoulder, and as Levi looked up, he saw that she was staring down at him with a mixture of fondness and shyness.

“Maybe, it’s not the right time for this, but I’ve always wanted to tell you…” she paused, looking down for a second. Then she took a deep breath and—

And then someone knocked on the door. It was loud and insistent, and Levi cursed whoever was behind it. What was Hange going to tell him? He wanted to know. He wanted to know so much he was ready to ignore the irritating knocking.

Hange had another opinion, though.

“Come in!” she shouted, turning away from Levi.

The door opened, and a sweaty, heavy-breathing Oluo tumbled inside.

“Detectives!” he managed to yell between his pants. “Have any of you heard from Petra?”

Levi and Hange exchanged a glance. “No?”

“I’ve just returned from her apartment,” Oluo explained, nodding gratefully at Hange, who offered him a glass of water. He gulped half of it in one go. “It was— it was empty. Her coat and shoes were inside and—”

“And the door?” Hange asked.

“Unlocked.” Oluo answered.

“Shit. Have you noticed anything else?”

“Yes,” Oluo nodded, opening his coat and taking something from the inner pocket. “This was lying on Petra’s windowsill.”

Hange snatched a small bag out of his hands, pushing her glasses up and inspecting it carefully. “A cigarette butt…” she whispered with a troubled expression.

Levi was instantly by her side. “I take it, the brand is familiar?” and before Hange could answer, he added. “Zeke smokes a lot, does he not?”

“I don’t—”

“I knew we couldn’t trust him,” he growled, clenching his fists. “I told you we couldn’t, and now Petra—”

“I don’t think that’s him, Levi,” Hange said, cutting him off. “Just think about it,” she continued, starting to pace around the office. “It’s Zeke we’re talking about, a man so evasive we spend a whole year chasing after him, and now, what? He forgets to throw out his cigarette butt? Even though, he knows we may still suspect him? He’s much smarter than that.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Someone is setting him up,” Hange concluded confidently. “Now I’m sure of it.”

“And what about Petra?” Oluo spoke up. “Do you really think she was… kidnapped?”

“Shit.” Levi muttered with feeling. He didn’t want to believe that Oluo’s conclusion was right, but… then he remembered a note they’ve found at the scene of a second murder and… it was the only possible explanation.

“We need to start the search,” Hange announced in commanding voice. “Levi, go and inform Erwin about this, tell him to gather as much people as he can. Oluo, rest a bit, then go back to your department. If there are officers you unquestionably trust, ask them for help as well. We’ll meet right there in two hours.”

“Oi!” Levi grabbed her sleeve, catching up with Hange, who was already by the door. “And where are you going?”

“To Zeke,” Hange said. “I need to make sure he’s innocent. And, who knows, maybe, he’ll be able to help us.”

“Hange…”

“I’ll be fine,” she gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to die on you for a second time.”

“You better keep this promise, four-eyes.” Levi spoke darkly. “Because I’m not letting you go for a second time. Good luck.”

Hange nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

  ***

There was a pounding, pulsing pain that was impossible to ignore. It felt like someone was hitting her head repeatedly with a hammer and simultaneously squeezing her brain inside the tight clutches. It felt like a hundred hangovers combined.

And it was made exponentially worse by hushed voices to her left that just didn't shut up.

Groaning softly, Petra opened her eyes. And closed them instantly as a new, much stronger wave of pain hit her. Her eyes felt like they were burning, her head felt like it was going to explode.

What had happened to her?

Fighting through pain, Petra tried to focus, searching through her brain for the recent memories. She was... with Oluo, and together they've broken into Sannes' office. Levi had come then, with detective Zoe in tow. And after that... she went home. Petra remembered the feeling of exhaustion as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. And then... what happened then? She must have gotten to the front door, and, right... she had found it unlocked. She walked inside and saw a man and....

"Detective Ral. Did you and your partner receive my note?"

And then before she could do anything, cry out for help, try to defend herself or take out her gun, the man with an eerie smile attacked her. He seized her hands in his, his face moved closer to hers, she felt shooting pain at the back of her head and then... There was darkness.

And now she was strapped to a chair with a headache so fierce it made her nauseous.

God, it was pathetic. She needed to do something about it.

She opened her eyes again, this time more slowly. The room she was in was still too bright, but Petra persevered and carefully surveyed her surroundings.

The room wasn't big and it was mostly empty. There were no windows and the only source of light was a lightbulb that shone right above her head. Apart from a chair she was sitting on, the only piece of furniture inside was a long table that stood at the other side of the room.

That's where the voices came from. And that's where two figures stood. Petra recognized one of them right away, despite him standing with his back facing her.

Sannes.

That meant that the man beside him was his intern. The bastard who kidnapped her. The man with an eerie smile.

Engrossed in a conversation, the two men didn't seem to notice that she had regained her consciousness. Petra had to use it to her advantage.

Whatever they talked about, the discussion seemed heated. Petra strained her hearing, listening in.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Sannes hissed, grabbing the other man by the collar of his shirt. "Do you understand what you've done? If Ackerman finds out—”

"He won't," the man responded calmly, easily throwing Sannes’ hands off him. “He won’t be able to find us, I took some precautions.”

“You— you took some precautions?” Sannes repeated, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “What kind of precautions, you fucking dimwit? Do you know who you’re dealing with?”

“You said he wasn’t as good as he was before…” the man mumbled with a confused frown.

“And that still makes him ten times smarter than you!” Sannes snapped, turning away. “Fuck!” he yelled, gripping the side of his head. “Why did I even agree to help you out, I knew you were a fucking idiot. And now Ackerman will have all the proof he needs to get rid of me. Years of hard work!” he lamented. “And all of it wasted because of your idiotic stunt!”

“Calm down, I’ve got everything under control!” the man tried to placate Sannes. “We’re taking a huge risk, I know, but the reward will be worth it!”

“What kind of reward?” Sannes seethed. “Getting rid of Zeke? I never really cared about that! It’s you who are obsessed with that!”

“Zeke is a fool,” the man sneered, his voice full of disgust. “He’s not the man he was before. Ever since he took in that Zoe, he had made mistake after mistake. It’s time to put an end to this. It’s time for someone else to take over his legacy. Our gang needs a new leader. Someone, who has as much potential as Zeke, but who doesn’t yet possess any of his flaws. Someone, who is cunning and ruthless. Someone who will be able to success, where Zeke failed. There is only one man who can do this," he finished, and even from afar Petra could see a shine of adoration in his eyes.

Sannes scoffed, rolling his eyes, not moved by the passionate speech at all. "And who is that?"

"No one can achieve the greatness Zeke once possessed. Except," the man smiled, and the sight of it made shivers run down Petra's spine.

"His own brother."

[himitsukki]

𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙞 // 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩

warnings: none! (now edited <333)

wc: 1,927

happy birthday, my little flirefly.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

when you first met tsukishima kei, you thought he was an asshole.

now, as your boyfriend of almost two years, he’s still an asshole… that you love.

it always comes off as a surprise when you inform people about your relationship, because, quite frankly, you both seem like polar opposites: you’re a person who can calm people’s hearts with just your presence. you always try to  offer help, and you try your best to be nice, because you know the world needs it. and, it’s always free of charge.

tsukishima, on the other hand…

“i told that bastard to get away from you at lunch.“

“kei!“ you scold him with his name. “i told you before, he’s not doing anything bad!“ your boyfriend continues to complain about your classmate who “keeps staring at you”, ranting so fast that you can barely understand his words through the sounds of the video chat.

despite the fact that he always picks the video chat option over the voice call whenever he calls you at night, it’s almost always just him doing his homework, with his phone leaned against the wall, or him doing his chores from around the house, with the back camera on and his phone tucked into the waistband of his shorts; you can’t recall having a total “proper” one-on-one video chat with him, with your phones directly in front of you and replicating a face-to-face conversation .

you’ve grown accustommed to his antics, however, and grown to love how it feels so domestic to just casually ask each other about your days. you even keep track of his chores in the tsukishima hoursehold, especially after the incident when his mother told him to turn the oven off after fifteen minutes and he forgot because he was in the middle of arguing what the correct answer was to that day’s homework.

you’re currently folding laundry on your bed and decided that while you’re at it, you’ll reorganize your entire wardrobe. you had your phone rested on top of two pillows and leaned against the headboard, you took a seat by the lower half of the bed to have you visible in your camera, but with various clothes thrown atop your sheets and pillows and even draping on your headboard, you’ve lost sight of your phone. you can only hear the slightly muffled voice of your boyfriend, now that it’s buried somewhere deep in your clothes.

“hurry up already, we still have homework to do.“

“i’m sorrryy!“ you whined, quickening your pace at folding your shirts into a neat pile. “i don’t know why i even decided to do this, this is a complete waste of time.”

“at least your closet will be organized,“ he tries to reason. you whine that it’ll only stay that way for a couple of weeks, and he tells you you’re an idiot because you’ll be the one at fault for that.

“just the jackets and sweatshirts left, then i’ll be done,“ you inform him after a few minutes of silence. it’s not rare for the two of you to be silent while calling each other; both of you actually enjoy the silence, and neither of you feel obligated to fill the silence with talking, especially if it’s just about nonsense. it’s just nice that he’s still with you despite the day having ended and that he’s one bus ride away from you.

“do you still have that jacket? the one i gave you when you dug out my closet a few weeks ago?“

“uhh...” you ruffle through the remaining clothes on top of your bed. “is it the purple one? with the cresent moon at the—“

“—back of the hood? yeah.“ you fished out the said jacket and tried it on, enjoying the impossibly soft material that’s only possible through years of constant wearing. 

it fits perfectly.

“it still bothers me how ten year old you and current me most likely have the same size.“

“you’re just small and short,“ he snorts. “i bet it’s even slightly loose on you, especially at the sleeves.“

“yeah,“ you agree as you pull the cuff of the sleeve to their maximum potential without stretching the fabric too much. “it’s hanging just a little bit past the tips of my fingers.“

“you’re forever a shortcake, [name].“

“listen, i never asked to be short, okay?“ you complain, but you can’t deny that you’re smiling as you joke around with your boyfriend.

it’s beyond comforting that he’d given you his clothing from his childhood. you didn’t even ask for it (as you do with his other clothing), but you remember organizing his closet and seeing a pile of clothes that he “kept” from childhood, and when you asked him about it, he pulled out what he said was his favorite,  gave it to you with a teasing smirk and said “you’d definitely fit in this.“

“hey,“ he starts. “hurry up.“ you dismiss him by sticking out your tongue even though you know he doesn’t see you, but tsukishima knows you too much to actually do that reaction, then scolds you for being childish while teasing you about doing that even he can’t even see it.

“heeeeey.” he drags. “it’s almost nine pm.”

“i know, i only have the jackets left. sorry,” you mumbled a genuine apology, aware that tsukishima’s tired from class and volleyball practice. how he’s able to balance being a student athlete while claiming to “not care about the sport”, you’ll never know.

“hey,” he starts once again.

“last two jackets, i promise—“

“i love you.“ you nearly drop the last jacket from your hands and look over where your phone is, finally locating it with it’s screen facing the sheets; his voice was low and muffled, but you heard it loud and clear. slowly, you reached for your phone, turned it over and see him properly facing the camera, his head turned to the side with his eyes checking up his screen for your reaction every few seconds.

“that’s unfair, you’re telling me that over call? and i wasn’t even in the video chat?“

“it’s rare that i even tell you ‘i love you’ and you complain about it?” he asks, his voice monotonous but his lips growing into a small that you’ve only seen him do when he’s really happy. “unbelievable.“

“i’m done with the clothes,“ you announce, placing your phone back to its initial spot as you transfer the piles of clothes back into your closet.

“great, it only took you almost an hour, congrats shortcake.“

“thanks, asshole. you’re the best boyfriend ever.“

the night continues on with doing your homework together (and fighting over which formula to use because you’re in different classes and have different teachers, for some reason) and just before you get ready for sleep, you let the call run a little longer as you do your night time routine.

“do you actually do this everyday?“ he asks when you tell him every step of your skincare routine. “i only do the basics. that’s so tiring to do everyday.”

“you’re complaining and you’re not even the one doing it… ‘kay then.“ you jokingly roll your eyes at him as you gently pat your final layer of moisturizer on your skin. “at least i’m taking care of my skin. they’re a wonderful organ.“

“okay, weirdo.“

he proceeds to continually pester you to go to bed as it’s almost eleven, and you both have to get up at five so you can meet up an hour later at his house (his mom adores you) and walk to school together, but you ignore him and his groans of complaint as you slow your pace to annoy him even further (then he threatens to end the call, so you run to your bedroom and flop down on your bed immediately.)

“end the call. i’m tired, i wanna sleep.“

“you know you’re suppossed to go all “nooo, i don’t wanna end the call” or “you end the call, hehe” right, kei?“ he glares at you through the screen, and you can only laugh in response since his cheeks are squished on one side of his face as  he’s lying down on his side. instead of intimidating, he looks adorable.

“i’m too tired to even lift a finger,“ he says as he closes his eyes. for almost a minute, you let the call drag on, enjoying the comforting sound of his breathing and the sight of his relaxed face.

it’s rare enough to see him so unguarded and at ease; it’s in moments like these where you continuously remind yourself to appreciate and be thankful of every little thing in your relationship. 

that being said…

“hey,“ you start. he hums a reply, but you won’t take that as an answer.

“hey,“ you start once again.

“what? i was already enjoying the silenc—“

“i love you.” the second you see his eyes open, you rush to greet him a goodnight as best as you can without giggling before immediately ending the call and muting your notifications for that app until five am.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

tomorrow starts smoothly with a wake-up call from tsukishima, your monring already complete with the sight of his bloated face and crusty eyes. he knows that you don’t care about his appearance, so he lets you see his worst visuals (in your eyes, however, he’s still unfairly handsome with all of that.)

you quickly got ready for the day; time flew by fast, and soon you’re ringing the doorbell at his gate, waving and greeting at his mom (who’s also the same thing) and greeting your boyfriend a good morning by taking out his (well, now your) jacket from last night.

he eyes you as you put it on. he’s unable to surpress his smile when he sees that the sleeves are, indeed, hanging a bit past your fingertips.

“i told you, you’re be forever a shortcake.”

“you’ve called me "shortcake” so many times, it doesn’t really mean like an insult anymore,“ you noted out loud, looking up at him through your lashes. "it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.”

“well you are a shortcake, shortcake.”

“annoying,” you playfully chide him with a roll of your eyes. at that action, he scoffs and grabs you by the sleeves, pulling you closer and reminding you to bring out your (matching) headphones since he’ll be plugging in the audio splitter.

“what do you wanna listen to?” you hum as you think about it, but tell him to go for whatever he feels like.

you let the clean tones from the guitar relax you, enveloping you in an atmosphere where you feel like you’re starring in an anime or some kind of movie. honestly, you feel as you are in one, because you know your type of  relationship isn’t all that usual, complete opposites and all. 

with the leaves turning orange and falling slowly around you, the visuals only supplement the atmosphere, the song sounding like the OST to your and tsukishima’s story.

suddenly, you feel his finger nudging itself between the gaps of your fingers and trapping one of them in it’s grasp. looking down, you see his pinky bent at the joints to hold your little finger captive. it’s shaped like a crescent. 

looking up, you see him audibly clearing his throat, awkwardly looking away when he sees you noticing. the faint blush on his cheeks makes you laugh, and you feel the atmosphere increase tenfold.

you’ll happily be in any movie, only if it’s him by your side.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 

m.list

[clumsyclifford]

you read my mind (better to leave it unsaid)

(x)

here you go @cringeycal​ i hate you <3

read it here on ao3

-

Calum’s not tired enough for this time difference.

Sixteen hours is too many. One day is not enough time to adjust to a whole new circadian rhythm. Their 7pm concert is 11am to Calum, and by the time it’s over it’s smack-bang in the middle of the day in Calum’s brain, and the fact that it’s dark outside is really, really fucking him up.

“This is really, really fucking me up,” he mutters, pulling the curtains of his and Michael’s hotel room shut with a swish. 

“What is?” Michael’s voice echoes from the bathroom, where he’s brushing his teeth. It’s a strange choice, since Michael also brushed his teeth before the show and they haven’t eaten anything since then, but whatever. 

“The fact that it’s dark outside and I feel like it’s the middle of the afternoon,” Calum says. He pulls his cap off his head and throws it aside, ruffling up the matted hair underneath. It’s nice and air-conditioned in the room, and the sweat sticking Calum’s shirt to his chest from the show is starting to dry. It strikes Calum that he doesn’t need to be wearing his gross sweaty t-shirt anymore, so he pulls that off, too, and throws it in the general direction of the hat.

Michael makes a kind of humming noise. Calum can hear the sounds of a toothbrush, and takes no offence at Michael’s non-answer. He kicks off his jeans and flops back onto the bed, revelling in the cool air on his sticky skin for a minute before sliding off to put on some clothes.

Michael traipses out of the bathroom. He’s still in full show attire, and he’s wearing the camouflage baseball cap from before, a pastel galaxy of lavender hair sticking out underneath it. Calum likes this colour on Michael. A lot of the time Michael makes his bizarre hair colour look good, but this time, the hair colour looks good on its own, which is a refreshing change of pace. 

“You look tired,” Michael says.

Calum frowns. “I’m not. And no I don’t.”

“Fine, you look cosy.”

“That’s not the same thing at all.” The sweatpants and hoodie Calum have donned are cosy, but in his mind it’s still that lazy break between lunch and dinner where the only way to kill time is to play video games. He blinks owlishly at Michael. “You look…colourful.”

Michael snorts a laugh. The only colourful part of him is his hair; his attire is all-black, as usual, but Calum is pretty focused on the hair. Maybe the jet lag is getting to him more than he knows, because all Calum can think is that Michael looks yummy, deliciously kissable, and he wants to tangle his fingers in the lilac mess that is his hair and make it worse. 

“You look…like you’re plotting something evil,” Michael returns, strolling towards Calum. He grins. “Stop staring at me! What are you planning?”

“I may be delirious,” Calum solemnly informs him. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Michael says without checking. He steps even closer. “Stop staring, you weirdo.”

“Make me.”

“No offence, but you look like you might snap and go serial killer,” Michael says. “I’m not kissing you, crazy eyes.”

Calum blinks. His gaze refocuses, flitting around Michael’s face too quickly, like trying to calibrate himself. “What if I kissed you?”

Michael shifts his weight, barely a foot away, and smirks. “That’d be okay.”

“I would never snap and serial killer kill you,” Calum says, frowning as Michael’s words finally pierce the thick haze of jet lag clouding his mind. “If I killed you it would be deeply personal and I’d leave a note and everything.”

Michael bursts into laughter. “This is why I say you’re insane!”

“I’m not insane! I’m adorable.”

“Adorably insane.” Michael calms down and catches his breath. “Well? Are you gonna kiss me or—”

“Stop calling me insane and we’ll just see,” Calum says, except then he kisses Michael anyway because he’s tired of not kissing Michael and this argument is not worth the time they’re wasting not kissing.

Michael’s hands immediately find their way to Calum’s waist, pulling him closer so they’re flush against each other. In the stillness of the room, Calum’s own heartbeat is loud in his ears. He wonders if Michael can hear it, or feel it, or if he’d find it strange if he could. They’re just friends who kiss. There’s nothing strange about that.

Anyway, Calum’s a man on a mission, and his palms slide up Michael’s arms and shoulders, framing his face for a second, then continue around the back of his head to the unexpectedly soft strands of hair at the back. 

Victory.

Well, almost victory. His fingertips bump against the brim of the cap on Michael’s head, and Calum grabs the hat and tugs it off him. The gesture makes Michael choke on a laugh and pull away.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s in the way,” Calum insists, taking advantage of the pause to push Michael’s hair off his forehead. A blissful smile breaks across Michael’s face, but he shakes his head anyway like he has to at least pretend to mock every single thing Calum does.

“It’s part of my look,” he says. Calum drops the cap carelessly to the floor and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck.

“Don’t care,” he says airily. “My enjoyment of our kiss is more important than your aesthetic.”

Michael breathes a laugh. “Rude.”

“Rude of you to wear a hat and hide all this sexy hair.”

“Oh, I see. It’s all about the hair.”

“Yeah, duh.” Calum leans their foreheads together. “Pick a bad colour and this is over.”

“Better not pick a bad colour, then.”

Calum smiles. “Don’t think a bad colour exists for you,” he admits. And I don’t think anything could convince me to end this, no matter what I say.

Michael is quiet, watching him, and after a moment of silence he leans in to kiss Calum again, like it’s the only adequate reply he can come up with.

Calum threads his fingers through Michael’s lilac hair and imagines the colour staining his skin, leaving an amethyst residue on his fingertips. He drags his hands down to Michael’s face, imagines leaving a lavender trail, marking the trajectory of his touch. Smudging violet across Michael’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Michael doesn’t taste like lavender or lilac — he tastes like mint toothpaste — but the colours are so vivid behind Calum’s closed eyes that he can swear he can taste them on Michael’s tongue.

When Michael pulls away, Calum licks his lips and opens his eyes. He’s disappointed to find Michael looking like Michael, no extraneous hair dye anywhere, all pale and pink lips but no purple in sight beyond the disaster that is his hair.

“Um,” Calum says, catching up to his own train of thought. “I think I’m tired.”

“Wow,” Michael says. “Hard for me not to take that personally, Cal.”

Calum grins. He’s not sure if he’s tired so much as just ready to call it a night. Otherwise he risks ruining this perfect ending to their day. Any day that ends with kissing Michael can’t be that bad.

“Hey, I could keep going,” he says.

Michael shakes his head, then hesitates, then kisses Calum once more. It goes straight to Calum’s toes, to the tips of his fingers. Somehow, the last kiss is always the best one.

“Well I, for one, am fuckin’ beat,” Michael says when they’re separate again.

Calum resists every single urge to just keep kissing him. If it were up to him they’d never stop. The only reason he ever lets up is the promise that at least they’ll get to do it again the next day. Even now, with the post-show exhaustion catching up to him and Michael basically swaying where he stands — even now, he wants to steal one more, one for safekeeping, one to lock up in a memory box Just In Case.

That would be insane, though.

“We need to sleep,” Michael says. “Or at least I need to sleep.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep,” Calum says. “But dibs little spoon.”

Michael sighs. “Fine.”

Calum kisses his cheek, then leaps backwards and lands on the bed spread-eagle. He doesn’t even have a chance to readjust before Michael’s climbing on top of him like a baby goat or a particularly needy cat. “Oof,” Calum says. “Get off me, stupid.”

“Technically, I think this counts as you being the little spoon,” Michael observes, which is absolutely not true and complete bullshit. 

Calum jerks his shoulder until he dislodges Michael from on top of him. “You’re still in your show clothes, you disgusting pig. Put on some pyjamas at least, Jesus Christ. I’m not cuddling with your sweaty arse.”

“Alright, fuck, chillax,” Michael huffs, clumsily stumbling off the bed and over to his suitcase. While he changes, Calum pushes the covers back and snuggles up underneath. It’s wonderfully warm with the blanket and the hoodie and everything. Calum sighs contentedly. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights,” he adds.

Michael finishes changing into sweats and a t-shirt and kills the lights. On his way back to the bed Calum hears him almost trip. “What the fuck is this?” Another pause. “Oh, it’s my hat.”

“Whoops,” says Calum. Michael finally returns to bed and crawls under the blanket where Calum’s made himself comfortable. “You looked pretty good in it. I just really— I wanted to touch your hair.”

Michael kind of laughs quietly. “And? How was it?”

“Delicious,” Calum hums. He grabs Michael’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Very tasty. Would touch again.”

“You can’t— that doesn’t even—”

“Shh. Shhhhh. Just let it happen.”

Michael sighs. His arm wraps snugly around Calum’s waist, and Calum takes back his thoughts about jet lag. It doesn’t seem like such an issue anymore. “I love you, weirdo. Goodnight.”

“Love you too,” Calum says. He yawns, which leads to Michael yawning; they both giggle, but then silence descends, and Calum falls asleep surprisingly quickly after that, with Michael breathing in his ear.

[recurring-polynya]

Your thoughts and headcannons on Nemuri Hachigou because I don't think she gets talked about enough, when in reality she's pretty interesting, she's essentially, a blank slate, Mayuri's second chance that I don't think he feels like he deserves. She's Nemu but she isn't and I think people(especially Mayuri) forget that a lot, that's a fascinating position to be in.

Puttin’ this under a cut because I’m gonna say some unkind things about Mayuri and I do not want to cause any distress to the many lovely people on this website who delight in his horrible antics.

This is not so much a headcanon so much as a thing I came up with for fanfiction purposes, but it’s all I got.

Right. So, like I said, I despise Mayuri. I just hate him. I understand that he appeals to some people, but I strongly dislike the dude and go to exorbitant lengths to avoid him ever appearing in my fanfic.

Additionally, I do not vibe with Nemu 7. She registers as not-a-person for me, she’s basically an extension of Mayuri himself. Don’t get me wrong, I find Mayuri’s treatment of her to be vile and I wish someone would take her away from him, but she comes off as very robotic to me. She is conscious, but she is not an independent being, if that makes sense. She is not a real girl. It’s funny that Mayuri keeps talking about how advanced she is, because clearly he means only her cognitive and fighting abilities. In terms of recreating a person, she’s incredibly primitive compared to the other mod souls we see. Take Kon, for example, who has a fairly limited powerset, but is never presented as less of a soul than any of the other characters. An even more interesting example is Ururu and Jinta. Ururu is described as being older than Jinta, and she is clearly “less human” than him-- she has less affect, she shifts into a distinct “attack” mode, etc, which implies that Jinta represents advances in mod soul technology. It’s notable that Urahara and Tessai and even Renji, in the canon scene where he protects the Shouten kids, never treats them as anything less than people. The contrast with the way Mayuri treats Nemu is stark. He likes that her feelings and personality are limited, he sees this as a feature.

I was completely unmoved by the entire chapter where Nemu died. Her sacrifice did not come across to me as anything indicating growth or humanity-- in every battle she's ever been in, she nearly dies because Kurotsuchi tells her to. She simply prioritizes Mayuri over herself. She always has. It’s simply the logical extension of her programming. A lot of people say they would have preferred Nemu to live and Mayuri to die and for sure I would have *preferred* that, but I have never seen Nemu as enough of a character to be worth rooting for. Like, at least Uryuu would have gotten some satisfaction form killing his clown ass, and that might have convinced me for at least half a second that he actually was on the side of the Quincy.

Caveat: if some talented fanficcer wants to write a short novel on Nemu discovering her humanity etc etc, I’m all for it, I’m just saying that canon hasn’t given us anything to suggest she would do more than just shut down without Mayuri to tell her what to do.

Onto Nemuri 8. I can’t believe they let Mayuri have another one. It makes my blood boil. The dude is an on-screen abuser and Kubo had the gall to try to make me feel sorry feel him (I did not) and then gave him another one.

So, I took her away from him.

I mentioned earlier that I go to great lengths to keep Mayuri the hell out of my fanfic, and usually the way I do that is to have my characters go through Akon whenever they have to deal with Squad 12. I think I started doing this because Akon is sort of weirdly familiar with Renji and Rukia in the TYBW, but I have projected all over him and he’s mine now. The way I assume Squad 12 functions, based on my career in scientific programming, is that Mayuri is like a primary investigator-- he's the Big Ideas guy and he spends a lot of time doing wholly self-directed research. He’s the face of Squad 12, so he has to go talk to the Captain-Commander and beg for money and defend blowing things up, but when it comes to science stuff, he does what he wants. Nemu is the lieutenant, and I think she handles most of the usual lieutenanting-- paperwork, meetings, etc., but I think Mayuri takes up a lot of her time by using her as a personal lab assistant on his wacky projects. There's nothing wrong with this, but I think in a lot of squads, the lieutenant is responsible for the day-to-day running of the squad and spends a lot of time dealing with their subordinates and other lieutenants. Nemu, instead, focuses on her captain. Now, the rest of the Gotei counts on Squad 12 for a lot actually-- gigai, Hollow tracking, Dangai monitoring, etc. etc. From the point of view of most science people, this stuff is mundane-- it’s all application, not development, and all the difficulty is in the twitchy little details. It’s frustrating and it’s unrewarding and you never get credit for it, and it is vitally important. There is a certain kind of science professional that makes a career out of this. They usually have master's degrees instead of PhDs, and they are usually tragically underpaid and underappreciated for what they do. In the real world, without these people, you wouldn’t have mass vaccination sites or weather data on your phone or cute li’l robots landing on other planets. In Bleach, these are the people keeping soul reapers alive in the field. And in my mind, this is Akon’s department.

So here’s the headcanon:

After Nemu’s death, Mayuri has so much sad clown pain about it that he wants another robot child poste-haste, but can’t bring himself to do the actual work, so he shoves it off onto Akon, with a list of the design specs he wants. The last one was pretty good, Akon can handle a few minor upgrades, it doesn’t need his personal hand in it. Thinking about going through all that work again just pisses him off, honestly. What a waste!

And Akon's like, yeah, cool, fine. It was heavily implied that he did a lot of the work on Nemu 7, it's just a matter of digging out his old notes and cleaning out some vats.

Except that, right around the same time, Rukia and Renji decide to have a baby.

Babies are super rare in the Gotei, and it’s not like those stuffy nobles are gonna let Akon look at their precious offspring. But Rukia is a rank weirdo, and Akon is their pal, so she’s always like “I hear they have these things in the Living World where you can pee on a stick and tell if you’re pregnant, can you make me one?” and Akon’s brain goes, “Wow, what even is the first detectable sign of a newly formed soul, this is very interesting.” So, at the same time he’s trying to grow a new and improved Nemu, he’s got access to the developing fetus of two captain-class shinigami. So when he has to pick between eight good candidate embryos to move to the next vat, he picks… not the one with the strongest reiatsu signature, like they did last time, but the one whose reiatsu looks the most like a real baby.

Akon reminds me of a lot of programmers I know, so I always sort of headcanon him as particularly interested in whatever passes for programming in Squad 12, and I think he takes special interest in revamping Nemu’s artificial intelligence system, which is primarily based on taking in information about the world and building up a realistic personality based on people she observes. In particular, it gives extra weight to “people who resemble her”. Nemu 7 was raised by Squad 12, so she came up very Squad 12, just like Mayuri wanted. Unfortunately, toddler Hachigou Nemuri’s algorithm unexpectedly decides that she has much more in common with toddler Abarai Ichika than any of the adult soul reapers around her.

Nemuri 8 is a very successful sample in terms of power and intelligence but she’s also very boisterous, and the rest of Squad 12 is like “Akon do something” so Akon takes drastic measures: he asks Renji for parenting advice. Distressingly, Renji is full of useful ideas like “tire her out” and “only fight the important battles” and “we’re signed up for baby yoga, you wanna start comin’ to baby yoga? Your back is gonna thank you.”

Akon didn't mean to let them hang out so much, but Ichika is a very useful data point and also if he takes Nemuri over to the Abarai house, the girls will entertain themselves (i.e. chew on each other) long enough for him to have a beer with Renji and Rukia and honestly my man really needs that beer.

I don’t think Akon thinks of himself as Nemu’s dad past the first time when she calls him ‘Daddy’ and he corrects her (she only did it because that’s what Ichika calls Renji, very predictable quirk of her programming). She’s just a work project. She’s not even his project, she’s Mayuri’s project, he’s just handling the little details. Fathering just happens to be an adjacent field of study that he’s found to contain a number of very useful best practices.

I would prefer not to get into the detail of the physical abuse that Mayuri uses against Nemu 7, but I would like to think that Akon finds ways to protect Nemuri 8 from the same, or barring that, maybe this is what finally drives Akon to murder Kurotsuchi and become Squad 12 captain himself.

Other Nemuri Headcanons:

Her favorite book is Rejection of the Twin Fishes!, Captain Ukitake’s posthumously published children’s book.

She prefers to be called “Nemuri” over “Nemu.”

Nemuri’s second favorite person in Squad 12 after Akon is Rin, because he always has candy. Rin actually likes having someone to share his hobby with and helps her make a World of the Living Snack Bucket List. When other shinigami come in for gigai, Nemuri constantly tries to con them into bringing something back for her.

Rukia teaches her to cuss, but tells her never to do it around Akon. Nemuri never actually cusses around anyone, but really enjoys having Forbidden Knowledge.

Speaking of Forbidden, she is mildly obsessed with Urahara, even though she’s never met him. She’s constantly on the lookout for thumbprints of his work in modern Squad 12 technology.

The one thing she does have in common with Mayuri is an absolutely batshit personal aesthetic. She starts painting her face as a tween and is somewhat inconveniently both into piercings and inflatable outfits.

The true proof that she has surpassed her predecessor, at least in terms of humanity, is that she is able to learn the name of her zanpakutou.

Oh, if you want to read any of my fanfics with Nemuri, here's one where she and Ichika play football and here's one where she tries to con Byakuya into buying her shaved ice. I really like writing Nemuri hanging out with Byakuya because I think an adult man who navigates social settings via rigid system of etiquette and class hierarchy and a small child with a pile of Markov chains for a brain would be natural friends.