#but perhaps this is better than if i'd tagged you and you'd opened up the fic proper and been like ''who the fuck is ALAN''

[thatacotargirl]

To the Ends of the Earth (2)

You asked for a part 2 to this, and part 2 you shall get!

Part 1 is here!

As always, inbox is open for requests for any ACOTAR characters.

Tagging @mybestfriendmademe for the kind request, thank you for your continued support angel 💖

Divider from the one and only @tsunami-of-tears! 💜

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

You wake with a groan. Your stomach was more settled and your head more calm, but a day full of agonising pain isn't the most conducive to a restful nights sleep. Rolling over, you are greeted by an empty bed.

It's hard not to feel a smidge of disappointment that Cassian didn't stay the night. You could have sworn that, last night, you'd heard him finally admit his feelings for you - the same feelings you'd harboured for countless years. Maybe your love wasn't as unrequited as you had once thought.

Dragging yourself up and out of bed, grateful to have not soiled your bedding once again, you head into the bathroom to freshen up and ready yourself for the day. The scent of Cassian still lingered on your clothes and it took everything in you to rip the shirt off your body and throw it in with the pile of dirty laundry.

Had Cassian really said that? Or had you dreamt it? Surely if Cassian really felt that way, he would have stayed? Or did he not realise you'd heard him? Did you hear him?!

You looked in the mirror and pouted at yourself. You were spiralling. Over a male, no less. Shaking off the thoughts, you got yourself washed and dressed, and headed to the dining room for breakfast.

-

Cassian and Azriel were already sat at the table, a bowl of porridge in front of them, chatting away. When you entered, both males fell silent.

"Good morning!" you called cheerily, setting yourself down at the table as the House placed a bowl of porridge in front of you.

"Morning, y/n. How are you feeling?", Azriel asked, shovelling another mouthful of porridge in mid-sentence.

"Better thanks, not 100% but better".

You glanced at Cassian, but he simply nodded into his porridge, avoiding eye contact with you. Huh?

"Thanks for you help, Cass", you offer him a smile - only to find it is met with indifference.

"Welcome", he replied, not even offering a glance up to you. You gaze over to Azriel, who simply shrugged, but you couldn't help noticing the small smirk he had on his face, and the sly nod he made in Cassian's direction. Cassian remained silent, finishing his breakfast faster than he has before, and left the table without Azriel, and without a goodbye.

"What was that about?!"

Azriel's smirk only grows bigger. He knows something, and I'd bet my right hand it has to do with Cassian taking care of me yesterday.

"Perhaps you should find out", Azriel offers, the smirk never leaving his lips.

Is that a challenge? I think it is. And if it's a challenge Cassian wants, it's a challenge he's going to get.

About an hour later, you find yourself heading up to the training ring atop the House of Wind. You have no intention of training today, still going through the throes of your cycle, but a little light stretching never hurt anyone. And, if you happen to be in the skimpiest pair of shorts you own, and the tightest sports bra barely holding you in, whilst Cassian is stood across the ring, that's just a coincidence - right?

Laying out your mat, you start some yoga poses, careful not to make eye contact with the Illyrian brothers sparring opposite you. Even without making eye contact, you can feel Cassian's gaze burning into your soul. You hear a sudden thump, and raise an eye to see Cassian sprawled on the mat, Azriel victorious on top of him.

"Distracted, brother?", Azriel asks mischievously. You have to hold back a giggle, carrying out another pose that you know makes everything stick out in all the right places. You hear Cassian huff, and watch discreetly as they start their sparring match again.

You stay for an hour, stretching out your muscles and working on some core balance, before rolling up your mat.

"Later boys", you call, throwing a wink in their direction. Azriel laughs, waving you off, but Cassian remains frozen solid - not daring to glance in your direction. It doesn't change the heady scent of arousal that wafts in your direction as you spin on your heels though, which takes on a distinct sandalwood tone, the same that had clung to your shirt last night.

Feeling pretty confident, based on Azriel's behaviour today and Cassian's response at the training ring, you decide to kick it up a notch.

You run yourself a bubble bath - which is realistically more bubbles than it is water - and settle yourself in. Cleaning off the sweat from your hour long yoga session, you wait patiently, listening for the distinctive heavy footsteps of the Illyrian General.

When you hear them walking down the hallway, you make your move.

"Is someone out there?", you call. You hear Cassian's footsteps stop outside your door.

"Y/n? All ok?", he calls back cautiously.

Carefully situating yourself so you are completely covered by the bubbles from the neck down, you smirk to yourself.

"Not really - I've got myself in a bit of a pickle and I can't reach it!".

You hear Cassian open your bedroom door and stifle your laugh when he pauses, clearly confused as to where you are.

"Can't reach what?"

"The shampoo, Cass. Give a girl a hand?"

You can almost hear his breathing from how deep it is in the adjoining room.

"Why can't you get it?"

"Why, because I'm all wet silly! Rhys won't be happy if I damage his floor by getting it soaked". You knew it was a bold-faced lie, the House would dry the floor instantly for you. He could correct you, he could tell you that the House would dry the floor, or that the House would even get the bottle for you if you asked it to. Or, he could walk in and give it to you. The choice was his.

You waited, almost giving up, before you saw the doorknob to the bathroom turning. Cassian walked into the room, hands over his eyes, as he reached out blindly to your shelves.

"This one?" he asks, holding up a body lotion.

"Nope"

"This one?" he asked, holding up a bottle of perfume.

"Cass, please just pass me my shampoo".

Cassian turns his back to you, making sure he can't see, before locating the shampoo and passing it to you without looking. You can see how hard his body is moving from his deep breathing.

"Thanks Cass".

"Yep, ok, good, welcome, is, um, is that all?"

He's flustered.

"Yes, thank you".

Then he ran, so fast he almost tripped on the carpet, out of the bathroom - your laughter following in his wake.

As evening approached, you began to get frustrated. You had spent the entire day taunting him, trying to get him to react, and the most you had got out of him was a blush.

You knew you weren't wrong - Cassian had some sort of feelings for you - and you wanted to know what they were. But, if he was going to play this hard to get, it was more than just a challenge you'd taken on - it was a damn suicide mission. You had to hit it in the one place he wouldn't be able to handle. You'd have to fight fire with fire.

As the Inner Circle gathered around the dinner table that night, exchanging stories of their day, your eyes fell to Azriel. He looked at you, confusion marring his face, until he saw your eyes glance over to Cassian, then back to him. His shadows, whirling around his face, filled him in on the rest of your plan; and Azriel smirked, leaning back in his chair.

Dinner was swiftly finished and everyone descended to the sofas in the main living room of the House, glasses of wine and whiskey in hand. You waited until Cassian was seated opposite Azriel, settled with his glass, before you made your move.

Sauntering up to Azriel, you gave him a smile, and sat down on his lap before taking a small sip of your wine. His legs moved, accommodating you, so you could lean against his chest. You didn't dare look up at Cassian, but you could feel the stares from the rest of your family, who were absolutely baffled about the scene unfolding in front of them.

"How about a drinking game?", you suggested, your voice cheeky and mischievous.

"Heck yeah!" Mor replied, "how about truth or dare? If you don't answer the truth or do the dare, you drink".

"Sounds great! Mor, you go first".

A few rounds went by and soon you were all in fits of laughter. Cassian had flown around the House of Wind entirely naked, Feyre had taken a shot of whiskey off of Rhysand's body, and Elain had admitted her crush on Lucien - much to everyone's whooping and excitement, and Elain's sheer mortification. Soon, it was Azriel's turn to ask you a question, and you saw the wicked gleam in his eye before he even opened his mouth.

"Y/n. I dare you to kiss me".

You gape at him, still seated in his lap. You can feel Cassian's gaze blaring at the back of your head as you turn to face Azriel. He winks at you knowingly, and you feel your confidence rising.

"Very well, I'm not one to turn down a dare".

You begin to slowly lean in to Azriel, eyes closed, before you are suddenly hoisted into the air. You open sharply, and realise you are staring down over Cassian's shoulder. You look up and see Azriel laughing on the sofa, Feyre in stitches on the floor, and Rhysand with a beaming smile on his face.

You stay silent as you let Cassian carry you up to his bedroom. He places you on the floor, his face red with fury.

"What the fuck was that about? Do you have feelings for Az?"

It was so comical, you couldn't help but laugh. Cassian stared at you absolutely bewildered.

"What's so funny?"

"He was doing it to wind you up, Cass; we were both in on it, I've been doing it all day".

"But why?"

You felt your own face flood red then, eyes on the floor as you fiddled with you hands.

"I heard you. Last night".

Cassian froze.

Several minutes went by in silence.

"Did ... did you mean it?"

Several more minutes went by before you dared to look up, your eyes meeting Cassian's. You saw the guarded look in them, his eyes searching yours. Clearly, they found what they were looking for, because his entire body softened.

"I meant every word of it".

You lunged at him, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he hoisted you up and into his chest. You both stayed like that, holding each other for some time. When you lifted your head from his shoulder, you noticed he was smiling, his eyes swimming with love and adoration. You felt a warmth in your heart that you'd never felt before, and clung to him tighter, resting your head back on his shoulder with a sigh.

"I'd go to the ends of the Earth for you too, Cass".

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acotar x y/n #a court of frost and starlight #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian

[stellerssong]

For the Fan Fic Writer Asks: 9 and/or 10

9—do you write every day? if you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

this is actually the only piece of writing advice or technique that’s ever worked for me and my swiss-cheesed brain: somehow i managed to convince myself, in the depths of a very bad creative injury, that Increasing The Fucking Thing by a sentence, just a few words, every single day, counts on some nebulous cosmic scale as Increasing The Fucking Thing, and therefore has value. this is why my creative output is so [wiggly hand gesture] in terms of quantity, but hey, This One Weird Trick has kept me in the game for some years now when i would otherwise have quit, so we’ll call it a good thing overall. Doctors Hate Her!

here is my contribution to the cosmic scale today, in screenshot format because moving the annoying formatting from my notes app to any other rich text field is, as previously stated, annoying. and yes, i am definitely looking forward to having to reformat this entire fucking fic line-by-line when it is uploaded to ao3 (lying) (lying so hard) (was looking at another section last night and just experiencing profound despair)

10—is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

something that is true in every single fandom ever is that you will publish a high-effort longfic that you poured your heart and soul into and people will be like “meh” and then you will publish an off-the-cuff gag ficlet that you barfed out in a day and a half and people will come crawling out of cracks in your walls to tell you this is the FUNNIEST and SMARTEST thing you’ve EVER written and OMG PLEASE WRITE MORE LIKE THIS and then you will be like. how did you get in my house. please get out of my house. i didn’t even go to the effort of looking up Finnish syntax and sentence construction for this fic i’m an EMBARRASSMENT. STOP CRAWLING AROUND IN MY CABINETRY

to that point, and to the original question: “we’ve got the power now, motherfuckers” has far and away received the most enthusiastic response of anything i’ve posted for Control (2019) fandom. and part of that might be because i did dash it off without taking myself overly seriously, and part of that might’ve been a fandom actually getting interested in a fic centered around a major character who up until that point largely hadn’t been utilized in fic, and idk maybe i actually did better than i thought i did in terms of mimicking the style of the in-game lore collectibles…but also y’all. please. “laterna magica” and “barren face, desert eyes” are better. like objectively. you are tearing me apart Lisa

#chatter #ask games #@wfl the screenshot is the evanescence fic by the way! it is a crossover. i'm terribly sorry you had to find out like this. #but perhaps this is better than if i'd tagged you and you'd opened up the fic proper and been like ''who the fuck is ALAN'' #he's literally just some guy. don't worry about it. i know i don't! #anyway shoutout to my fellow dark mode/reversi girlies. the other day i switched pt back to light mode just as an experiment #and i like literally yelled and recoiled from my screen #it burns us precious.....................

[auteurdelabre]

SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 9 - dark!Joel x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Words: 7.4k

Chapter Tags:  sexual tension, mentions of suggested abuse, girl-bonding, Joel being Joel, reader being oblivious.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

A/N: Y’ALL really came through with the comments! It made me stay up far too late typin’ away. But I’m glad to deliver this to my sweet audience and I hope you continue to bless me with your thoughts, reblogs and funny tags. Also lemme know if you have money and wanna give me some because your girl is BROKE y'all. BROKE.

Wednesday - my bb, my light, my sweet please never stop commenting on A03 because I read those like others read stories. I laugh, I cry, I emote. Never stop.

Also, two people should NEVER ride a horse when one’s in a saddle. It’s horrible for the horse! But this is fiction so y’all gotta forgive me for it, all right?

Lastly - Chapter 10 is.... gonna be memorable. That's all I'm sayin'.

SO MUCH TO LOSE: CHAPTER 9

You toss in bed a short while later, your mind going a mile a minute. You can't get the memory of Joel's furious face out of your mind. You can’t get Ellie’s sad eyes and her tensed shoulders to leave you. You can’t stop imagining what happened the second you left their home.

Part of you wanted to run right back to that house on Rancher Street and to beg Joel’s forgiveness for intruding. It was never your information to gather, not your place to pry. It was information never given willingly and for that you understand his fury. You understand it better than most.

But the other part of you, perhaps the part that had brought you to tears as you left had been the sight of Ellie's horror at your question. Of would Joel hurt her? Because in Ellie’s eyes you saw her own lingering question reflected. 

Who hurt you? 

It's too complicated to get into, too personal and that's why you think you feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Because if you'd come home to the space you shared with someone else and heard them divulging your biggest secrets, your deepest wounds, you can't say you would have acted any different.

In fact, you might have been worse.

You turn your head, noting that it's only now starting to grow dark. You hadn't even bothered with dinner. Just pulled on your sleeping clothes and robe and thrown yourself into bed. You wanted to forget the hours before, wanted sleep to claim you and help you erase the day.

But you can’t. You just lay there twisted in your sheets, feeling like a stranger in your own body. You consider trying a warm shower when you hear a sudden thudding on your front door. This isn't Ellie or Jennifer. This is someone else and you have a pretty good idea who. 

You think that you should just stay in bed, try to ignore the insistent pounding. But you need to pay for your mistake. This is your penance. You move down the stairs and to the front door opening it slowly. 

Joel is standing on your porch, his broad frame looming over your door. His hands are on either side of the frame, braced as if he has to physically hold himself back.

When you pull the door open he juts his chin forward aggressively. He hasn't even bothered putting a jacket on, despite the weather. He's wearing just his green flannel and a scowl that makes you take a physical step back. 

"Joel-"

"You think I'd hurt Ellie?" Joel says, teeth clenched. "Hurt my own fuckin' kid?"

You glance quickly over his shoulder noting that the street is deserted. Your street is one of the newer ones, less populated. It makes you nervous to see him looking so furious with no witnesses. But you answer him anyway.   

"I don't know you at all," you tell him with a wince. "For all I knew you could have and I felt responsible."

His jaw is clenched tightly, ticking as he glares at you. You can see the fury building there in his frame and it makes you tremble. But you swallow, raising your spine and fixing him with what you hope is confidence.

"You yanked me around on patrols before," you remind him, swallowing your fear the best you can. "You're known for being ruthless with raiders. Most everyone is terrified of you. Is it really that much of a stretch?"

For the first time this evening you think that what you're saying registers with Joel because he blinks and some of that inky black in his gaze grows a soft brown.

"I've never hit you. Never come close." His voice is soft, almost admonished. 

"No," you concede, "but you haven't exactly been gentle either." 

Joel takes in the way you're cowering, the way you flinch when he shifts. He sobers, lowering his hands from your doorframe, pushing himself back from you. 

"I'd never hurt a kid," he murmurs. “I’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

He takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You wonder if he sees the blotchy pink of your tear-stained face or the dark circles under your eyes from barely sleeping this week.  

Joel's eyes narrow and without stepping closer to you it feels like he gets nearer when he speaks low and even. 

"Your dad hurt you or somethin'?"

You're momentarily thrown by this question from Joel. He's never really asked you anything this personal before. You toy with the idea of closing the door on his face because he doesn’t deserve to know you this way. But you think of how vulnerable he must feel with you having all this information about his past, about his Sarah, and you answer.

"No," you tell him honestly. “My dad was amazing.”

"Your mom then?"

"No."

You cross your arms over your chest, indicating that the conversation is now at an end. You've shared as much as you are willing to at this point in time. 

Joel looks equally stoic despite the nature of his questioning. His eyes drift over your body for the first time since he arrived at your doorstep, fixing on your sleep clothes and open robe before shooting back to your gaze. You pull your robe around your body, shivering at the cold draft coming in from the outside. Joel clears his throat. 

"Ellie never should have told you all that about me," he says. "Wasn't her information to share." 

"It was my fault. I never should have pressed her for details," you admit, talking to his shoulder. "It wasn't my place." 

Joel exhales through his nose by way of reply. The two of you stand in quiet thought before you feel compelled to ask.

"Did Ellie get in a lot of trouble?"

When he doesn't answer you finally move your eyes from his shoulder to his face, surprised to see he's staring at you. He's not going to answer you, you realize. You barely know him and it's between him and his daughter. 

You worry that you've messed everything up with Ellie. You feel like it's your fault that the fight happened at all. You think of how pleasant the afternoon had been with flower making and hair brushing. You hate to think of that going away. You swallow, gathering your nerves.  

"Am I still allowed to teach her to bake?"

After a moment Joel sucks his teeth and nods shallowly.

You shift where you stand, one hand still on the doorknob. It's warm under your palm. If Joel was anyone else you'd invite him in for a hot drink given the weather. But as it's him you simply stand awkwardly across from him. 

Joel peers into your face, gaze darting from each of your eyes to the next and back again. There's something about his stare that feels warm and heavy, something endless. 

"Get some sleep."

He says it softly, a husky command with none of its usual bite. Then he's gone, giving you one last look before he's taking off down the stairs of your porch. You watch his tall frame head down your street, scissoring through the night air until he's nothing but mist. 

And strangely the second you close the door you feel your feet taking you to your bed. You hear his voice quietly rumbling in your mind as you crawl under the covers.

Get some sleep. 

Permission. A command. A hushed order that gives you the freedom to just sink into the warmth of your bed, to close your eyes and feel your breath even out. 

And in seconds you're fast asleep. 

///

Jennifer greets you when you open your door to leave for patrols the next day, crowding your doorframe.

"I thought we could walk to patrols together."

"Okay." You pull your jacket around you, bracing yourself. 

You've known popular girls like Jennifer. The kind that roll their eyes and call you sensitive if you don't like how they treat you. You assume that this is what awaits you now.

"I'm so sorry for how I acted at the Bison."

You can’t say you were expecting that.

"I was trying to impress Joel," she continues. “Make it seem like we were all in on the joke together.”

When you see her standing there with her gloved hands clasped, looking apologetic you feel your animosity dropping from you like an unnecessary jacket.

"And I just... I never should have put you on the spot,” she continues. “I was just trying to go along with things, but that's not how friends act. My mama raised me better than that."

You know that what she's saying is important, but all you can focus on is that she just confirmed you two are friends.  You have a real friend.

"S'okay," you offer quietly. 

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get my cookies?"

"Yep, they were good."

You don't make it a habit to lie to friends but she looks so proud of herself that you can't help it. She beams, clearly proud of herself. She doesn’t need to know that they’re at the bottom of your waste bin. 

"I'm so glad you liked them."

You want to say something kind to Jennifer, something that lets her know that you’ve forgiven her. Maybe its guilt from the fact that the cookies were barely touched. Whatever it is you scan her body, landing on her beautifully tailored jacket.

“I like your jacket,” you tell her, observing the dark green and black of the pattern and hood. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she tells you proudly.  “Barely any time at all.”

“Tell me you didn’t just make it just for this patrol,” you say fixing her with a look. Jennifer goes pink and starts giggling. “Jennifer!”

"Oh hush,” she says elbowing your side gently.

You can’t help but laugh at your friend as the two of you head off to patrols, chatting pleasantly as you make your way down the path to town. Jennifer is animated as always, her voice lilting and cheerful.

“Luke was really disappointed when you took off," she mentions with a sly smile and side eye. "I just know he's excited about today."

You flush, eyes on the ground, not saying anything. The truth is you're very excited to see Luke today. You want to learn more about him, see his likes and dislikes. 

"Joel left soon after you did," Jennifer tells you with a frown after a few moments. "But I mean he came and had a drink with us so that has to count for something."

"Totally." 

You've reached the fence and see three of the horses lined up, tied and waiting. Luke is patting Glimmer but he waves to you both as you approach. Your stomach flips pleasantly at the sight of his light hair falling into his eyes.

Chestnut whinnies gently as you approach, his long neck arching towards you. You smile as he ambles over to greet you the best he can.

"Hi boy," you whisper, gently patting down his long muzzle. "You having a good day? Huh?"

"Hiya Glimmer," Jennifer coos. You think that this must be her usual ride on her patrols. 

"Morning Luke," you offer, trying to appear nonchalant. 

"Mornin'."  Luke’s smile is shy but earnest. "We missed ya this week."

"Yeah?"

He nods and you feel your face grow hot because you are sure Jennifer is staring at you both with a smirk. "Yeah, missed shootin’ with ya."

You busy yourself with running your hand over chestnuts flank, all the while trying not to read into things. Maybe Luke just likes having a fellow peer there?  

Or maybe he likes me.

You have to admit to yourself that you have a crush even if crushes feel so adolescent in your mind after everything that happened to the world. But there’s something that makes you want to laugh at the way some things never change. Humans will continue to lust, even after the earth is swallowed by disease.

"Looks like a simple enough job," Jennifer observes looking at the few pieces of lumber strapped to the horses. Enough that it's good for building but not too heavy for them to carry. You go to reply when you hear a booming voice sounding out behind you. 

"S'a fucking joke. Gettin' them all the way over here just to be one short."

Joel is arguing with Hank, one of the crew. Hank is an older with an under bite and bushy eyebrows. He fixes Joel with a formidable stare. He’s one of the few in Jackson City not intimidated by the elder Miller.  

"I don't know what to tell ya Joel," Hank shrugs. "It's all we got."

"What's going on?" Jennifer asks, swanning over to the men. She stands close to Joel, her shoulder brushing against his. You notice as his dark eyes sweep over her face as he notices her.

"Only three horses available today," Hank explains to her. "Others were taken out."

"Why?"

"Heard about an intercepted shipment of medicine nearby. Sent a bunch of folks after it. Anyway, one of you'll have to double up."

Joel makes a huffing noise before shouldering past Hank and hauling himself up onto Midnight. He's made it very clear he won't be riding with anyone. That leaves you, Jennifer and Luke. In habit you go to grab Chestnut’s bridle. Jennifer is determined not to go down without a fight. 

"I'm small," Jennifer says in a breathy voice you don't really recognize as hers. "I'll double."

She looks directly at Joel who is going to great lengths to look anywhere else. If it weren’t so awkward you might have laughed, but instead you try to hide your smile behind your glove.

Oblivious to the dynamic, Luke pats the side of his horse. 

"You can ride on the back of mine if you want Jenny," Luke offers with a friendly tip of his head.

Your smile immediately dies. Why didn’t you volunteer? Jennifer pauses, waiting for Joel to inject.

Get the fucking hint, Joel. 

He doesn’t.  He just shifts the two guns he’s carrying on his back, clearing his throat.

You see how crestfallen Jennifer looks, but it’s for only a moment before she shines a bright smile Luke's way as she hauls herself up behind him, lacing her hands around his middle.

"Thanks, Luke." 

With that settled you yourself mount Chestnut, stroking his mane gently. Hank comes over to hand you a backpack. It’s heavy and you make a soft huffing noise when you hoist it onto your shoulders.

“Nails and hammers,” Hank explains. “You got it?”

“Yep,” you nod, trying to look in command of yourself with Luke’s eyes on you. “No problem.”

You feel the coarse hair of Chestnut under your gloved fingertips and squeeze your thighs to prompt him forward.  You follow after Joel in habit with Glimmer carrying Luke and Jennifer close behind. The ride to Teton is quiet, but not in a tense way, more distracted.

The backpack as it stands is a problem though because you’re wincing with every jostling step Chestnut takes. The bag is impossibly heavy and it digs into your shoulders like a too-tight bra.

You hear Luke and Jennifer quietly talking with one another on Glimmer. There are quiet giggles and you hear Luke chuckle softly. You feel irritated at Joel not taking Jennifer on his horse with him. Of course he wouldn't - Joel gets his way every time. So you've lost your chance to bond with Luke. 

You could be on the back of Glimmer with him. Your arms could be around Luke's waist right now, your thighs bracketing his. You could be feeling the warmth of his body seeping into your front. 

But you're not. 

You're stuck in the middle listening to Luke's gentle chuckle behind you and watching Joel's broad frame in front of you. As you stare at Joel with the guns on his back your mind drifts to last night. 

Have you and Joel moved past your mutual disdain for one another? You’re not quite sure.  Right now you’re irritated with him, but there’s less bite to it today. You think maybe you’re both at a polite acceptance of one another. Joel looks back every now and again, his eyes sailing to you and the group behind you. You roll your shoulders, gritting your teeth when the bag digs into the flesh there.

“’Bout halfway there,” he tells the group even though you’re well aware.

Joel is a natural leader checking in on his troops. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the forces before all of this. You know that he worked in construction and that he must have been around horses considering he’s such a capable rider. But that’s it.

Perhaps he and Sarah rode horses together. This thought comes to you despite knowing nothing about the girl. Nevertheless you wonder what she looked like. Was she dour and broad like Joel? You imagine her as bubbly and quick with his dark hair.

You watch as Joel slows Midnight and Chestnut quickly overtakes him, their hooves trotting along the earth until the two of you ride side by side. You’re confused and you feel Joel’s eyes on your profile and after a moment you turn to see him staring at the bag and then back to your face.

“Gimme the bag,” he orders gently.

“I’m fine,” you lie. You wonder if he can see the strain in your neck as you say this. He rolls his eyes, huffing out his nostrils.

“You need to be carrying a weapon,” Joel informs you. “Won’t do much damage to a Raider with a heavy backpack.”

He’s right. He’s not doing it to be nice; he’s doing it to be efficient. How Joel of him.

You want to fight him on it but the thought of having the heavy thing off your shoulders is too appealing. You relent as the horses come to stop beside one another. You tug off your bag, handing it to Joel who straps one of the guns to the side of it and slings it over his muscled shoulders. The bag doesn’t even look oversized on him and he carries it with no strain whatsoever.

He hands you off the large shotgun and you throw it over your shoulder, thankful for the padding in the leather sling. Without another word Joel makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth and he and Midnight quickly head up the group once more. 

When you get to Teton Village and the four of you do the usual perimeter check you’re feeling bolder and a little bit restless. You feel like you want to impress Luke but can’t think of any meaningful way to do so. He’ll be upstairs hammering and nailing while you stand watch at the window like a senior citizen waiting for the postman. It’s almost embarrassing that you were brought along at all.

When you approach the outpost though you have an idea on how to appear more capable. You urge Chestnut on ahead of Joel and tie the sweet creature quickly to the tree before jogging up the large old library steps.

“I’ve got the lock,” you call over your shoulder casually. Joel is already off his horse and striding towards you with several pieces of lumber slung over his shoulder; Luke is helping Jennifer off of Glimmer. You turn back, fiddling with the code confidently.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck.”

You try it again, the same one you were taught and then you tug. It’s still not working.

“C’mon,” you whisper angrily to yourself, “c’mon you piece of shit.”

Again the silver tabs are moved to the correct code and again you jerk it only to find it sticking fast. Is it the encroaching cool weather? Your confidence is hanging by a thread when a large ungloved hand comes out of nowhere, coming to gently bat your fingers away.

“Code changed last week,” Joel says lowly behind you.

You feel the warmth of his taller body behind you, his words stirring the hair at the back of your head. You say nothing as you watch his fingers fiddle with the new numbers, sliding them into place. You want to memorize them for next time. His arm rests beside your shoulder as he works his thick thumbs slide the silver tabs. Finally it unlocks and Joel removes the lock, placing it in his pocket.

“Sorry you couldn’t impress your little boyfriend.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation despite the fact that only he and you could hear the murmured remark. He moves past you, Luke and Jennifer carry the remaining lumber. The four of you make your way into the house and wordlessly Joel heads upstairs to begin.

“That was so sweet of Joel to take the bag,” Jennifer whispers to you with hearts in her eyes. “Chivalrous.”

You don’t reply. Why shatter her illusion of who she thinks Joel is? Maybe with her affection and softness he could become that. Maybe with the right woman Joel Miller is chivalrous and romantic.

Maybe it’s just with you that he’s an antagonistic asshole.

The three of them pad up the stairs with the supplies as you stand by the door. You know you're not much use upstairs so you busy yourself writing in the log notes about the repairs. You hear the banging and the conversations upstairs as you move from the small room towards the window of the fireplace room; your eyes surveying the grey of old snow.

You yawn after a short while, bored. There’s nothing out there. There never is in town. That’s why you like Teton village so much. It’s quiet and sleepy and there’s no real danger. Perhaps it’s the large buildings or the lack of footprints. Whatever it is, you find yourself relaxing.

Joel and Jennifer jog down the stairs with Joel not passing you a glance. Jennifer gives you a thumbs up and mouths “getting more wood”. You hear the sound of Luke hammering upstairs and take a moment to consider your next moves.

This may be your only chance.

You scurry up the steps towards the far room, following the sound of Luke’s hammering. You stop when you see him, mid hammer. His back muscles ripple under his t-shirt, a line of sweat down the middle. It’s warm in this room, and judging by the repairs done they have been working quickly and efficiently.

“Hey,” you offer as you approach him, heartened when he turns and flashes you a friendly smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. You turn away at the sliver of taut abdomen that shows itself when he does. Your whole body is going tingly.

“Hey, you come to help us?”

“Oh I would just slow you down,” you say with a shy laugh, your eyes landing anywhere but his handsome face. “Every time I try to hammer the nail goes crooked.”

“You just haven’t been taught correctly then,” Luke ventures, “come here and I’ll give you a lesson.”

You try to keep yourself from jogging over, attempting to appear casual. He holds his hammer out to you as you approach.

"Here.”

You take it from him, facing the sill of the window that he’s been working on. You nearly jolt when you feel his hands land on your shoulders. He notices your flinch, his hands flying off of you at the first contact.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry just distracted,” you insist, feeling your cheeks heat. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Luke’s hands go to your wrists now, placing the nail in your left fingers and positioning it on the sill.

“You just need to start with it straight. Lotta people angle it without thinking and…”

You know that Luke’s talking more but you’re having trouble focusing because you feel him pressing up behind you, his hand sliding over yours and helping you to hold the nail in place.

“A lot of people make the mistake of hitting the nail shallowly a bunch of times instead of once or twice with harsh blows,” he explains. You feel a warmth go through your body as Luke's curls over yours. He’s so tall, so gentle, so earnest.  You feel his voice rumbling through his chest into your back.

He places the hammer in your right hand before he covers your hand with his effectively holding each of your hands like you're a puppet. He positions the nail in the wood once more, bringing your hand and the hammer back. You’re completely boneless, letting yourself melt into his arms.

"So if you hold it-"

Whatever thought Luke had dies at the sound of Joel's rasping voice behind you. 

"What're you doin'?"

You and Luke glance over your shoulders to see Joel scowling. He's got a stack of the remaining lumber over his shoulder. Jennifer is beside him, looking between Luke and Joel in confusion, a box of nails in her grip. 

Luke still has his arms around yours, guiding you. Both sets of arms are raised midway. It looks like you’re in some strange dance routine involving hammers and nails. Joel drops the lumber to the floor with a thud, his gaze icily on Luke.

"I was just teaching her how to put up the frame," Luke explains with a soft tone. You recognize that he's a gentle man, not one for confrontation. Joel intimidates him; he likely has since he met him. For whatever reason Joel is especially cold to Luke.

"This ain't a teachin' moment," Joel all but growls, his larger frame barreling towards the two of you. "We're here to do a job and get it done fast so we don’t draw attention."

You feel Luke shrinking back, arms lowering, but his frame still rests behind you as if he's worried about leaving you entirely. 

"I wanted to learn how to do the repairs," you explain trying to be diplomatic. 

"S'not why you were brought," Joel bites back.

He shocks you when he reaches out to take your wrist, tugging you away from Luke. You stagger towards Joel, eyes wide almost barreling into his chest. He holds you tightly, looking down into your face.

"You're here to keep watch while we do this. That’s your job."

His voice is harsh but his eyes are gentle. It's a confusing dichotomy that has you careening from one emotion to the next. You settle on anger when you feel Jennifer and Luke watching you. Your cheeks burn with humiliation at being talked to like this in front of them and you shoot a glare at Joel before you wrench your wrist his grip.

“Let’s break for lunch,” Jennifer suggests, noting the tension.

“Good idea,” Luke says with a smile.

Everyone waits for Joel’s eventual nod before the four of you head downstairs to the log room.

There are thankfully enough chairs because you can’t imagine the awkwardness of standing around eating after everything that happened. Right now you want to sink into your chair and disappear for a few hours.

What the fuck is Joel’s problem?

Jennifer thankfully starts chatting to fill the silence and pulls out the meals from her bag. Two sandwiches each, a thermos of coffee and what appears to be fresh brownies along with the usual water and apples.

Joel goes off for a moment, muttering about feeding the horses. The three of you take a seat around the table, focused on the sweet-smelling brownies.

“Those look so good,” Luke says when Jennifer pulls them out. “I love baked goods.”

“You should try her stuff,” Jennifer says motioning to you with a wink. “Everyone in town says how good her baking is.”

You could kiss Jennifer for the way she’s trying to make you look good in front of Luke. You make a mental note to do the same for her and Joel. Jennifer has many good redeeming qualities and Joel just simply doesn’t see them.

“S’not that good,” you say with a shy little giggle as you bite into your sandwich.

“It is so!” Jennifer insists, unwrapping her own.  

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself,” Luke says grinning and taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t say anything but you shift slightly when Joel comes to take the empty seat next to you. He reaches across you to grab one of the sandwiches, peeling back the waxy cloth that holds it.

The room goes quiet again, a side effect of Joel-Miller-iti; because whenever he enters a room it goes deadly quiet. You wonder if he was like this before – was he always so gruff? So grumpy? How could Tommy be so opposite to him?

You wish it was Tommy with the rest of you today. Tommy with his easy laugh and warm countenance. You expect the rest of lunch to go in silence when all of a sudden it’s Joel who breaks it.

"You're good at window repair, Jenny. You must’ve done a lot.”

Jennifer flushes prettily and thanks him in a voice that feels a lot more breathy than necessary.

For some reason this innocuous comment from Joel has your fingers curling into the wood table. Your leg starts to twitch as you rock your leg up and down restlessly on the ball of your foot.

You spent weeks trying to earn Joel’s praise as a patrol partner. You were dutiful and listened and tried your best and he gave you nothing back unless his cock was in your mouth. Jennifer has been working for thirty minutes and he gives her his praise so freely?

If he wasn't sitting beside you, you would be fixing him with your most glowering stare. You wish you weren’t so shy, so quiet. You’d give him a piece of your mind next week on patrols if you had the guts.

“I grew up doing repairs on our house with my brothers,” Jennifer answers and you know she’s beside herself with all this attention from Joel. He’s got his eyes fixed on her and his normally scowling face is brighter, his mouth in a polite smile.

“You had good teachers.”

“I taught them, actually,” she smiles brightly.

“Impressive.”

You continue to bop your leg, the feeling distracting you from your frustration. You hasten a glance at Luke who hasn’t so much as glanced up from his lunch since the meal started. He’s shy like you, quiet and introspective especially when Joel is around. You think that’s why you enjoy his company so much. You feel like you want him to feel included.

“You did construction too, right Luke?”

“Yep,” he nods, swallowing before taking one of the brownies and breaking it apart in his hands. “Cabinetry especially.

“Cool,” you offer awkwardly. You wish you knew more about the topic but your interest and acumen in that field is limited. Your knee continues to bop anxiously as you try to think of ways to get the conversation to continue.

“I was just learning flooring and trim carpentry when the outbreak started,” he continues as you nod along as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Oh, wow.”

Jennifer keeps sneaking looks across the table at Joel and if your hunch is correct he’s probably doing the same to her. Despite your previous annoyance with him the thought warms you, that perhaps there is a mutual attraction for your friend and Joel. You wonder if you should warn her about Joel’s temper but decide that Joel may not show that side of himself to her if he can help it.

After what you’ve learned about Joel and Sarah, there is a softness inside you that maybe thinks Jennifer could be good for Joel. You resolve to do whatever you can to make it work for them. Joel isn’t your friend, but Jennifer is. And if she wants Joel you’ll do all you can to make it happen.

You almost yelp when Joel's hand grips your knee, holding your restless leg in place. He leans towards you, voice dropping a register and sliding into a soft rasp. 

"Stop shakin' your damn leg. You’re knockin’ over the coffees."

You’re doing no such thing, but part of you thinks he misses ordering you around. He must like the sense of control it gives him. He misses being a big shot and you’re the closest thing he has to a professional underling. All your kind sentiments about him go flying out the window. You were naïve to think there could be a possible friendship there. Hell, not even a friendship – just a respectful mutual tolerance.

You feel an embarrassed flush cross your features, pulling back from Joel’s touch. His fingers slowly unlatch from your knee and his palm lingers a moment before being removed entirely. 

“You do a lot of repairs before all this?” Jennifer asks Joel. You surprise yourself by listening, intrigued for more information on pre-outbreak Joel.

“Yep.”

He takes a long swig of his coffee before wiping at his mouth and speaking before Jennifer has the chance to ask more follow up personal questions.

“Alright, let’s finish it up. I’ll see you two up there.”

He doesn’t spare anyone a glance before he’s on his feet, heading up the stairs. Luke joins him moments later, leaving you and Jennifer sitting across from one another.

When she’s certain the men are upstairs she looks beside herself with delight and leans forward conspiratorially.

“Do you think Joel was flirting?” she whispers, her light eyes dancing. “I mean, Luke is way better at repairs but he didn’t say anything nice to him.”

“Definitely,” you reason, looking thoughtful. “He doesn’t really talk much normally, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“I’m gonna ride back with him,” Jennifer says hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“Go for it,” you say, unable to stop from smiling. You can’t help but enjoy her excitement.

“I wonder what he kisses like,” she muses, her eyes dreamy. You shrug your shoulders and she fixes you with that same sisterly look. “When’s the last time you had a really good make out?”

“Uh…” you trail off, your cheeks heating. “We can talk about it later. He’ll be pissed off if you don’t get up there soon. Don’t wanna blow your chances now.”

Jennifer gives you a grateful squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, calling up to Joel and Luke that she’s just grabbing some extra nails. You don’t hear their reply because you’ve dragged yourself to the window, your eyes scanning.

You hear them nailing upstairs, the muffled sound of their talking. As always you're on the edge, forever on the outside. You chew at the inside of your cheek in irritation, your eyes scanning the outside.

It's not long after that the three come back downstairs dressed for travel. Jennifer is pulling on her gloves and chatting with Luke about the rumors of heavy snow and Joel is carrying his bag with the tools over one shoulder. He fixes you with an expectant stare, brows raised.

"See anythin’?"

"Nope. Would've said something if I did." 

Joel stares at you, unblinking and you're confused when you see a small curl of his lip in amusement. 

"S'go." 

The four of you trudge towards the waiting horses. Chestnut looks excited to see you and you grin as you approach. You press your forehead to his cheek, stroking down his flank as the rest of the group begins to pick a horse.

"I can ride with someone again," Jennifer offers and you watch with a touch of amusement as she subtly steps towards Joel who has just climbed atop Midnight. 

"Nah, let's switch it up," Joel says gruffly. "That way s’fair for everyone."

Luke looks your way and you hold in a nervous grin. He’s going to make the same offer to you that he did to Jennifer because he’s a gentleman that way.

The thought has your stomach fluttering excitedly. You think of how your arms will wrap around his middle, how you’ll find an excuse to press your cheek to his shoulder blade. How your thighs will-

"Get on."

Your brows knit together in confusion as you gaze up to your right to see Joel on his horse, holding out a gloved hand in front of your face. His curls fall into his forehead as he tilts towards you, mouth in a firm line.

What the fuck is he doing? Why is he trying to fuck this up for you?

“S’go,” Joel tells you, shaking an impatient outstretched hand from atop of his horse. He looks like he’s irritated out of his mind as you make your decision.

"Oh, uh," you glance at the disappointment in Luke's face before turning back to Joel, trying to hide your irritation. 

It makes sense after all; Luke already had to ride with Jennifer. But a part of you had been hoping to spend a bit of time with him on the horse. It's been a long while since a man intrigued you like Luke.

"We don't have all day," Joel snipes at your hesitation. "Let's go."

Jennifer strides forward, taking Chestnut’s bridle from you. You hand it over before looking back up at Joel who waits with one hand on his saddle horn, the other still at your eye level.

You clench your jaw and take his hand, hooking your foot into the footing of Midnight’s saddle and feeling the muscle of Joel’s arm as you grip his bicep and he pulls you astride the horses back behind him. 

He shifts, giving you room to slide behind the saddle. You do so, holding in  a sigh as you position yourself atop the strong animal. You feel Midnight's ribs under your legs, wider than Chestnut's. He's a pitch black mare with a coat that currently glistens. He's always been a rather imposing horse, hesitant around new people.  Riding him is like being in a room alone with Joel – intimidating.

"Hold on," Joel instructs before clicking his tongue, encouraging Midnight to start walking. The horse jerks to a start, causing you to dig your legs into Midnight’s side. You’re lucky the horse doesn’t kick you off for it.

You look over your shoulder to see Jennifer on Chestnut a few paces back. You give her a look that shows how displeased you are to be with Joel, replete with an eye roll. She returns it with a weak smile before her focus is back on the trail. Luke is looking off into the surrounding area, his eyes scanning for threats as he sits straight-backed on Glimmer.

You turn back to face ahead of you, displeased.

At first you barely touch Joel, hands resting on your thighs as the four of you bob along the trail. No one is talking now. The air is filled with an unexpected tension that you can’t for the life of you understand.

Your front is pressed against Joel's back, squeezing gently to make sure you don't slide off.  Midnight makes a jostling step off the path before righting himself. It sends you slipping back, your thighs digging into the horse’s side and your hands going to grab Joel lightly by his jacket.

"Unless you wanna fall off I suggest you hold tighter n'that." Joel bites off. 

You know he’s correct. Sitting this awkwardly is only a burden on Midnight. Your arms snake around Joel’s waist and hold there below his sternum. His chest is broad, his arms muscled, his thighs strong. Everything about him is masculine and tough. All but the soft look of his dark brown curls threaded with grey which curl under his ears just slightly.

Despite everything you've experienced with Joel, actually physically touching him is surreal. You know the feel of his cock in your palm and on your tongue, the taste of his come. But now you can explore the rest of his body first with your eyes and then your hands. 

Up this close to Joel you see the freckles on his golden skin and the way he holds himself stiffly straight in front of you. He’s so broad, his entire disposition that of protector. You can understand why Ellie feels safe with him.  

You marvel at the smooth sensation of his jacket under your fingertips, the warmth of his body. This close to Joel you inhale the scent of leather and homemade lavender soap from Hannah's. You could almost laugh that you both use the same scent mostly because Joel Miller smelling like flowers is an amusing thought.

You pass through a different path on your way back as you always do and are irritated with the sight of the overturned trees. The roots are ugly, twisted things that poke out from the light dusting of snow.

“Shit,” Joel mutters to himself.

Midnight rears back sharply and in a panic your arms wrap more tightly around Joel’s waist, suddenly anxious. You're surprised when Joel's left hand goes to cover your grip knotted against his middle, holding you in place.

Joel grunts out a grumbled whoa boy before tugging Midnight’s reigns with his right hand to get him to obey. His hand is big, warming you despite the gloves you both wear.

"Careful," Joel calls over his shoulder to Jennifer and Luke. "Some big roots here." 

The two of them call out that they've heard him. You twist to look over your shoulder and watch them navigate Chestnut and Glimmer over the uprooted tree. Luckily it doesn’t take long before the four of you are back on the path heading home with no more obstacles in the foreseeable future.

You glance behind you to see Jennifer looking miserable on Glimmer. She looks so disappointed and you want to slap Joel upside the head for missing how obviously into him she is. You think of earlier, when Joel observed her skills and an idea comes to you.

“Hey Jennifer?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like your jacket,” you fumble for a way to make this sound natural.

Jennifer shoots you a confused look, curious as to where you’re going with this. “Uh, thanks.”

“Did you get it from town?”

“I made it,” she tells you, the silent you already know that, reflected in her gaze.

“Wow, you’re so gifted. You made those amazing curtains in your place too, right?”

“I did.”

“You’re so good at making stuff,” you gush. “Especially clothes. You make men's clothes too, right Jennifer? Like jackets?"

"Uh yeah," she says slowly before her confusion fades, realizing what you're getting at. She smiles cheekily at you. "Yeah, I can make jackets, jeans, t-shirts, all that stuff." 

“You’re so talented at it,” you gush. Luke is looking over your way and you feel the need to really drive it home. “I mean, with the holidays coming up I might just want to get a dress from you.”

You have never worn a dress in your life. Not unless your mother forced you into them as a child. But you need to sell this idea that Jennifer is a domestic goddess. You’ll leave out the part about her baking.

“I could make us matching ones,” she says with a wink. You hold in a giggle at the thought.

“I’d like to see that,” Luke offers shyly from behind Jennifer who shoots a delighted look in your direction complete with dramatically mouthed ‘he likes you!’. You flush at the attention, your lips pursing into a pleased grin.

You feel Joel's trunk stiffen in your arms and his hand drops from over yours. He replaces it on the reigns. 

"Keep it down," Joel hisses over his shoulder at you and the others. "Unless you were hopin’ to guide  Raiders our way?"

The two of them go quiet and you cringe internally. You don't know why but you suppose it's because Joel is your patrol partner. A reflection on you in some ways and he's coming off like a major asshole right now. Your arms loosen around his middle finding that the horse is now on smoother terrain.

You glance over at Jennifer about to give her a sympathetic look but she shoots you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and mouths the words "still sexy" with a head tilt at Joel. You barely suppress a surprised giggle, irritating Joel further. 

"What's so fuckin’ funny?"

"Nothing." 

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

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#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #smut #fanfic #pedro pascal #fanfiction #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tension #so much to lose #auteurdelabre

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Self-Loathing and other wrong doings

Okay! This was requested by an Anon, and it is a modern twist on things with a chubby reader. Arthur's gonna help the reader with those nasty thoughts of hers, and he's gonna make things all better, as he typically does.

I'll have this linked on my modern masterlist once I'm done! and I hope you guys can enjoy this!

You'll have to excuse me, I have to find out where I put my tags list before I can actually tag y'all- just be patient with me if you can! I'll get back into the swing of it!

(Here's one of my Arthur Images from one of my playthroughs lmao)

Warnings: Smut, so 18+, self hate and similar themes, meaning negative thoughts, chubby reader, and female reader, modern AU. Fuck it I'm making arthur chubby too cause I can. I think that should be all!

let's get started!

You stare yourself down in the mirror, your hands placed against your stomach, looking at the way it pudged out, pushed out further than the rest of your body.

It wasn't flat, like it should have been. Perhaps if it was you'd hate yourself less. You had nice hips, and your upper half wasn't bad, but that stomach. It's what makes you upset. What makes you wonder why your amazing boyfriend was even with you in the first place.

Every time you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't ever manage to feel anything but distain for yourself. You always felt so massive.

You had no idea how Arthur could stand to look at you.

You'd planned on taking a shower, that's why you were in here in the first place, but you no longer had an interest in doing so. Your mind felt dark, your head heavy. You just felt...wrong. Uncomfortable in your own skin.

You quietly redress yourself and then leave the bathroom, shutting off the light and pulling the door shut as you head into the hallway of your home.

You make a beeline for your bedroom, thankful that your breakdown has come on a day off, rather than when you'd been at work.

Crawling into the bed feels better than standing, you pull the covers up to your chin, and lie on your side, curled into yourself, as the tears begin to fall.

Your head screams obscenities at you, talking poorly about yourself to you.

Calling you names that you'd already heard throughout your entire life.

"Fatass."

"Ugly"

"Lard on legs"

You weren't the ideal girl, not to anyone. Not even to yourself. Maybe Arthur was gonna text you one of these days and tell you how disgusting you were, and finally leave you, like you deserved.

The tears get heavier, falling down your face faster as the thought enters your mind.

Arthur was your everything, he meant the world to you. If he left you, what would become of you? You'd spiral without him. You know you would. Hell you were spiraling now, and he hadn't even said anything to you.

You're in the middle of wiping the tears on your face when your phone rings, vibrating on the mattress beside you. As if he knew you were thinking about him, his name flashes on the screen, Arthur, with a little heart next to it.

You sniffle and hope you won't sound too bad when you answer, and pick up the phone, turning on speaker phone.

"Hey darlin'! I jus' got outta work, I'm headed your way, figured since you were off I'd just swing by and stay the night with ya, so long as you don't mind."

"That's fine, Love." You answer, swallowing at the thought of him joining you. You'd have to pull yourself together.

"You alright? You sound like you've been cryin' Princess..."

"'M fine Art, just...thinkin'."

"Well, I'll be there in....fifteen minutes at the most, and we'll talk about whatever's botherin' you, I can't have ya cryin' on me now."

He chuckles, and it warms your chest, even over the phone he eases your senses, what would you do when he finally opened his eyes and realized what you looked like?

"Okay, I'll see you then Art."

"I love ya Sweetheart."

"I love you too."

He seems hesitant to hang up, but after a moment he does and leaves you in silence once again.

Your tears continue to come, no matter how much you try to get them to stop, they just keep coming.

Before you realize it, you hear the door open and the sound of Arthur's footsteps as he makes his way down the hall to your room.

He stands in the doorway, and looks at you, and when you turn your head to look at him the look on his face only makes your heart pang worse.

"Oh...Darlin' what are you cryin' for? What's goin' on?"

He wastes no time moving to the bed, kicking off his work boots before he climbs in and cradles you into his chest, and you expected it to comfort you, which, it did, however, you didn't expect to start crying harder.

"Hey now..."

He hushes you and you feel his hand come to your hair, gently petting your head, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

"Talk to me Princess...what's goin' on?"

You swallow and look up at him as your tears fall down your face.

"How can you love someone like me Arthur? Someone who looks like me, who...who's disgusting?"

Arthur looks back at you with a facial expression that you can only describe as...offended.

"The hell are you talkin' about woman?"

"How can you love me, when I look like this?"

"Y/N, what on earth do you mean?"

You huff and stand, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the bed. You drag him down the hall and into the bathroom. You flip the light switch on and look directly into the mirror.

"Look at me."

You mumble.

"Look at the way I'm shaped, the way my body looks. I'm not skinny, I'm not flat. I'm uneven, lumpy...disgusting. Why are you still here? Why haven't you left me and found someone who deserves you? Why are you still with me, when I'm nothing?"

Arthur's brow furrows and a frown covers his face as he looks in the mirror at your form. He turns and grabs your shoulders, forcing you too look at him.

"Y/N, what the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Why are you still here?"

"Because I wanna be! Cause I love ya damnit! I never wanna hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Never."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"The hell if you are."

His expression goes soft and he cups your face in his large palm.

"Y/N, you're absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous, a god damn treasure for me to behold everytime I see ya...I don't give a damn about the TV shows and the movies, or the magazines, flat stomachs ain't all that. I couldn't give two shits about whether or not someone has a flat stomach. In fact I PREFER, that you're bigger."

You look to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

"Darlin' look at me, I'm not small neither, ain't fit, I got a gut on me myself, but you're still around, why would I be any different?"

He was right. He's a large man, wide shouldered, barrel chested, and a bit of the stomach that hangs over his belt, but it suited him. Fit him well. He was strong too, as much as he would deny it, he was. His biceps were about the size of your head.

"Because...you look...normal."

You mumble.

"You look good, it fits good, you're big and strong, and I'm...just big. Fat, and flabby."

"No. Don't you dare call yourself fat."

You frown as you look at him, and then he slides his arms around your waist, turns you towards the mirror and stands behind you.

"I want you to see what I see in this mirror."

He pauses.

"I see my beautiful girlfriend, who, even with tears in her eyes manages to blow me away. She's soft, and welcoming, and absolutely adorable, I ain't never once looked at her and thought she was ugly, or unlovable, in fact the first time I laid eyes on her I felt like I was in love."

You swallow, looking at his face in the reflection.

"I see my girlfriend, who's got the sexiest hips I've ever seen anywhere. I see my beautiful woman, who's the sweetest, kindest, and most lovely person I've ever come across."

"I see the person I love, and the person I want to come home to everyday. The woman I'm HOPING, to marry someday, hoping to spend the rest of my life with, if she lets me."

You stay silent and tears seem to only get worse.

"Darlin' I love you. With all my heart."

He states, his voice quiet in your ear.

"I love how you look, how you sound, who ya are, everythin' about you makes me happy. I like that you're a bigger girl. I don't want you to be skinny. There's more for me to hold the way you are now, and I ain't gotta be gentle with you, I don't have to worry I'm gonna hurt you."

He leans in and kisses your shoulder, then your neck.

"Ain't never once cared about you bein' skinny, and I don't want you to be. I kiss that stomach o' yours everytime we're intimate. You know that. I love it, and I love you."

"I just...Arthur I...I hate me. I hate the way I look, I hate-"

"Darlin' you're breakin' my heart."

You turn and face him, looking up at him.

His eyes seem tired, almost broken as he looks back at you, sad.

"I love you."

He murmurs, bringing a hand to your chin to tilt your head up.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, even if you think I should, I ain't. I'm stickin' by you. What kinda man would I be if I let the best woman I've ever met slip outta my fingers?"

You simply hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you as your head hits his chest.

"I love you Princess."

"I love you Arthur."

He sighs and rests his chin on your head.

"What started all this anyhow?"

"I wanted to take a shower and...I...you know I saw myself naked."

"Sweetheart, I promise you, seein' you naked is my favorite part of anyday if I'm given the chance to see it."

You can't help but laugh a little, and wipe your eyes.

"You still need a shower?"

You give a nod.

"I'll join you, if you want. I need one myself, covered in oil and grease, and god knows what else."

"Will you please? I think I'll feel better with you there. I won't focus on how I look so much."

"Anythin' for ya Princess." He kisses your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of the way. "Stay here, I'll go back to your room and get you some pj's. You finally got all my stuff put into whatever drawer it is you wanted it in right?"

"Yeah, left side, the top two drawers."

"Alright, I'll grab our clothes and I'll be right back. Why don't you start the shower and grab the towels for us, okay?"

He leaves and heads back to your room, and you feel a bit better, more hopeful. Your chest is lighter, so is your head, and you even smile as you turn the shower on.

He was a wonderful man. He deserved the world, and you'd gladly give it to him, given the chance.

You find two towels easily and place them on the counter before you strip down and get into the shower, pulling the curtain shut.

The water is hot, but not hot enough to burn, and you again smile as the water hits your skin.

You hear the sound of the door opening and Arthur drops off the clothes on the counter. You listen as he shimmies out of his clothes and then you hear the curtain open from the other end.

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body to yours, offering a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"See...this ain't so bad."

"It's not bad when you're here."

He chuckles and it rumbles through you, just as it rumbles through him.

"You are beautiful, inside and out."

He whispers, kissing your cheek.

"I'm gonna have you admitting it, I will. I ain't gonna let you sit here and hate yourself. I can't do that."

"Good luck on that Hon."

"I will get you to say it."

He states, this time it's firm, less playful.

"I ain't gonna let you sit here and say all these awful things about yourself anymore."

He kisses your neck again, this time there's a difference in the way his lips feel against your skin.

It's more...possessive, marking.

"Arthur..."

"If ya won't believe my words maybe I can prove it to ya...if you're alright with that..."

You think for a moment, but it doesn't take long for you to decide.

You nod, and twist your head to kiss him on the cheek.

"You sure?"

You nod again.

"Yes Arthur. I'm sure. I want this."

He nods and again kisses your neck, again it's bruising, you know the skin there will be a purple hue.

His hands travel over the skin of your stomach, gentle, loving. His thumbs move back and forth against the skin there, hoping to reassure you.

His hands travel lower, caressing your thighs as he kisses your shoulders, mumbling under his breath about how much he loves you.

His right hand finds it's way towards your heat, he's gentle, two fingers slipping past your folds as he murmurs in your ear.

Your heart speeds as you feel the familiar stretch of his fingers.

"Arthur..."

"You deserve to feel good Princess..."

He kisses your cheek again, fingers curling within you. You feel his hardness against your rear, it's obvious it doesn't take much when he's with you.

The showerhead rains down on the two of you, adding to the sensation.

Arthur's fingers never stop moving, moving gently, slowly. He's in no rush. In fact he's doing his utmost to take all the time in the world with you.

He rocks his hips against you, just barely. Trying to help himself as he helps you.

It's sweet, in a way.

It's a long while before his hand even dares reach for your clit, and when it does, he seems to know exactly what to do, exactly how fast or slow to move, what direction to move.

He's been with you long enough to know.

That too is sweet.

You can't help but mumble his name over and over again as he continues with his way, a smile on his face as he moves his hips against you, his hand in tandem.

It feels like forever passes before you finally come upon your climax, quietly moaning out his name as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

It's slow, but it's just as good as it would have been otherwise.

He never stops kissing you, or telling you how he loves you.

He's more than what you could have asked for,

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #arthur morgan x reader #milk delivery #red dead redemption 2

[k-indie]

Soft Jazz w/ Suguru

passionate!soft!suguru }{ smut mdni 18+ }{ no tags, all softness }{ listen to this if you want

The smell of aftershave and cedar and hemp perfume filled your senses, tingling and exciting you in a way you'd never thought you'd experience again. Something sweet about the wine he'd placed in your hand and the kind smiles he offered you, it was all so overwhelming in the best way--and to add to the subtle, sophisticated atmosphere, the jazz playing smooth, light in the background of his patron-less bookstore was the cherry on top.

How long had it been since you'd seen him?

How much did he truly miss you? He'd never shown you this much kindness before and you weren't sure if he was even the same person you'd left behind to go to college all those years ago. Who was he now? And when did his beauty grow stronger, deeper, and sweeter?

"How long has it been since we last spoke, (Name)?"

He sighed as he took his place next to you on the loveseat sofa in the office at the back of his shop. It was a beautiful room filled with books and waxed, glass-contained scrolls he'd preserved from the Edo period. The scrolls were gifts he'd received from an old friend, he told you.

You hummed in delight at the taste of the wine again, "Funny you should ask. I was just wondering the same thing. I'd love to say three years ago at most, but I'm sure we both know it's been longer than that."

He chuckled heartily at your lop-sided grin and offered his own straightened and warm one right back, "I did the math. See, you left me a little after high school graduation," he tipped his head towards you and gave you a goofy grin to hide his disappointment, that which you knew better than to poke at, and he continued to say, "I had this bookstore built two years after that, and now, it's the best bookstore in the country, award-winning for three years since opening. Plus, the year we were all supposed to meet up in San Jacinto for Shoko's birthday party. The one you had to miss due to exams."

You were surprised and unsurprised to know he'd kept track of all of those years. Was he truly hellbent on making you feel guilty for missing your own best friend's birthday party the year prior?

And how had you missed this announcement before? He owned the top bookstore in the country and it won three awards so far? Perhaps more?

"It's been six years, (Name). I hope you don't mind that I kept track of you while you were away. Not stalking, scary or anything worrisome, for that matter. Just constantly checking in with the people who were able to hold your attention unlike I was."

You were speechless, stunned, and you had to bite back the tears that threatened to blur your vision. Had he really been so in love with you that he really couldn't let you go? Had those years with him in high school meant more to him than he let on? What was the change now? Was he heartbroken? Did you mend it by merely showing your face at his recent award ceremony for a fourth year on top that evening?

You hadn't realized you were still silent, left eye already letting a tear stroll down your cheek painfully slow that it tickled your skin and his thumb wiping it away as he smiled so incredibly beautiful at you. You hadn't realized you were still staring even after feeling his thumb in the numbness of your being on your cheek, his hand turning under your chin to cradle it lovingly as he tilted your head up some more to look at him straight in the face now?

"Earth to (Name). Surely, you didn't disappear on me again, no?"

You finally snapped back to reality when his husky, deep voice met your ears. "Sorry, I..."

He tilted his head, a sign he was listening, he wanted to hear you and to know what you were going to say and the impatience of having to wait for you to divulge whatever was eating at that pretty mind of yours- it was too much. He had missed you so deeply, so dearly, and he wondered if you'd heard his heart call out to you at all while you were away. Was it beating loud enough to hear halfway across the world? Was it beating hard enough that it shook your apartment with every systole to diastole that took place beneath his pericardial?

Surely you had to hear it. How couldn't you?

"I didn't realize... I'm so sorry, Suguru."

He clenched his jaw at the beautiful sound of his name rolling so gently off of your wine-coated tongue. Oh, how he wished he could taste the mixture of liquids pooling beyond your lips once more.

Instead, he wanted to take it slower, allow you both to catch up to each other's new lives and reminisce on lovely days past. "It's quite alright. I hope you don't mind me asking, have you dated anyone else during your time away?"

You smiled sweetly at him, a shake of your head was all he needed to feel his shoulders relax, his jaw unclench again, and the breath he was holding left his chest fluttering like that of a boy in love. "I have not dated since I left you high and dry after high school, my love. And I don't think I ever will again."

Your smile fell once more, eyes casting over the floor and the slowly draining glass of wine that you sipped at once more, eyes moving up with the tilt of your head as something long-forgotten pulled your attention to it.

Gasping, nearly choking on your wine, you stood up quickly. Looking back now to Suguru, who sat still, arm resting on the back of the sofa and you quickly paced over to the bookshelf where many trinkets had been placed, you were quick to fondle the locket you'd given him on your first anniversary with him. Tears prickling your eyes once more, you picked it up gingerly, opening it to see the pictures of you and him on one side, and the beautiful group of people you'd all been great friends with for years in youth to adulthood on the other side, laughing, smiling, hugging, tugging, and you and him at the back of the image in a lover's hold.

"I had that polished about a week ago. I told you before and I'll say it again, (Name), I'll never let you go."

You held the locket to your chest, tears spilling out as he finished his revelation. The warmth of his hand met your shoulder, slowly trailing down to your waist and he took the moment to hug you from behind, chest to back, chin to shoulder, and both eyes closed on your person and his.

He missed you sorely, and even now with you cradled so lovingly to his chest--leaning back into his warmth--he still missed you as if you would disappear from his arms and he'd wake up to find this was just a dream, a figment of his imagination that felt so real, so warm, and as you turned in his arms to hug him back, he felt his heart palpating even harder against his breastplate.

With you wrapped up in him like this, he could say for sure that it was not a dream, that you were really here with him after six long years, and really hugging him as if it would be the last time you ever did. He could feel it. He could practically hear your heart singing to his as you kissed his cheek, screaming at him how much you missed him too.

"Please, (Name). Don't ever leave me again."

It tore at your heart to hear him begging you so desperately to let him back into your life and to never let him go as he'd done for you. He needed you. Couldn't you see it, feel it?

At that, he pulled your left hand from over his shoulder and you felt something cold, something firmly grasping over your ring finger and you froze in your place, chin still planted against his shoulder, and he pushed you back by your shoulders to get a good, long look at your face.

You were so beautiful like this: your hand gliding over his arm to cup his that was placed softly against your cheek, the flow of tears that still haven't stopped running like a river down your face, and your softened eyes looking up at him with that love in your eyes that he never thought he'd see again.

"Look at it. I want you to stay with me. Longer this time."

Chuckling lightly at the quick raise of his brows and his cheeky grin, you raised your hand to look at what he placed around your finger, moving his hands up to wipe the tears that had been shed as you raised your hand.

Not a diamond.

Platinum silver with rose quartz as the stone. He remembered how you ranted and raved to him one night about how beautiful, how poetic, how spiritual it would be to have one as your wedding ring and you were--once again--too stunned to speak.

His fingers intertwined with yours, lifting his hand to his lips and kissing each of your fingertips. "I wanted to give you this not only as a gift to you because of what you'd told me that night at Gojo's birthday party, but because I want to unify us for good this time. And who better to wed than my first real love?"

You could feel your chest tightening with excitement, happiness, love, fear, worry. As if he read your emotions right from the pages of your mind, he spoke sweetly to you, kissing your forehead once before whispering against it, "I'm right here. You have nothing to fear. You'll make a great wife and an even greater mother."

"M-mother?"

He straightened his back, lifting his other hand to your chin and placing a chaste kiss to your lips, almost lingering as he spoke, "Yes, I want to start a family with you. I want to live the life with you I had only dreamed of in high school. I want to have all of you and I want you to have all of me."

It was all too much too fast, but you were accepting it. It was okay that you were overwhelmed, it was just fine when he placed his lips over yours once again, passionate and slow were the lips of your past lover soon to be husband.

"I love you."

"I love you so fucking much."

And that he did, when he took you to celebrate your engagement in all the places you enjoyed most, the strolls through the town as the sun set on you and especially now, at his humbled abode and splayed across his sheets in another embrace betwixt lovers that brought a certain joy to you that you thought you'd lost long ago.

The occasional harsh thrust into you had you moaning so sweetly into his mouth, legs twitching with overstimulation clawing at your bones, muscles, clit. Chests pressed so tightly to one another that you felt his heart beating in tandem with yours, and he was kissing you so passionately, so raw now that you were sure your lips would be swollen and puffy before you'd finished.

His hand slid across your forearm down to your hand, grabbing it tight and placing it next to your head where he held it in a loving vise grip to match the hold your cunt had on his cock.

Every roll of his hips was a stroke of his love into you, a merging, a melding of souls and bodies burning into each other with the fire of a thousand suns and the love unlike any other.

It wasn't the first time you'd made love, no. In fact, you'd made love to him many times before you left for college. But it was different. He knew more now than he did before, he felt more now than he did before, and he wanted to give his attention, his time, his love, his money, his life, his children--all of it, to you.

When his tip pressed against your cervix, it welcomed him, bloomed around him like the softest flower he'd ever known, had ever been graced to hold, to taste and feel. He'd never let you go again and he made sure of that when he tenderly fucked you into his mattress, lifting your legs up into a mating press before pulling away from the kiss that lasted longer than you could hold your breath, exchanging saliva and air with each other that you were bound to remember forever.

"I'm going to change the pace now. Is that alright?"

You smiled softly at him, "Yes, my love."

You could feel his cock twitch in your cunt, eyes lidded and fiery as he glared down at you. You were welcoming the stretch so openly, the pain that came with the pleasure he helped bring forth for you, and when he slowly started the easy push and pull of his hips, he kissed you again, stilling his hips to whisper sweet everythings against your lips, he pulled back, biting the juncture where your shoulder met your neck and picked up a quick, harsh pace that had you slowly drawing out a long whine of his name, colorful words flying out of your mouth at the brutal pace and force.

It was as if he was fucking you like he hated you, switching to a slower pace as if to say he still loved you, and back to the brutal pace to say you fucking left me and I want you to know how hard it was for me to watch you walk away.

And as if he spoke those exact words right in your ear, grunting lowly as his pace grew sloppy, nearing his edge as he pushed you over yours, you whined out for him, "I'm s-sorry. I-I'm so sorry, Su-Suguru. I prom-ise to stay with you- aghh -forever. I love you, I love you, I love you!"

He knew you did. He never doubted that fact. You had always been there for him, always reliable, always lifting him up when he was down. You did more for him than you'd done for yourself and he was surely going to give that back--that support, that unconditional love, and the life you'd dreamed of having. With him.

And when he shot his seed into you, you were more than happy to take it all for the fourth time that night, straight into your womb.

"I love you. I will always love you, (Name)."

Sorry, I know it was kinda long, real short smut at the end. But I had this on my mind and I needed to get it out. I fucking love Geto Suguru so much.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru #geto #jjk #jjk x reader #passionate love #passionate!suguru #in love with this man #yall please come get me #i need a hug #from him

[manygalaxiesinone]

Disgaea 7 DLC Episode: Persona 4

Part 1: Prince Detective Naoto

Young Detective: "Now then, is there anything else I need to go over?"

Pirilika: "No. That's all I have for the testimony. Thank you again so much for coming out here on such short notice, especially since you're supposed to be relaxing."

Young Detective: "It's alright Pirilika. Consider me stubborn if you may, but I can not simply leave any case unsolved."

Pirilika: "So cool..."

Fuji: "The hell's going on here?"

Pirilika: "Fuji, stay right there! This is a crime scene!"

Fuji: "Huh?"

Pirilika: "Someone stole the new dress I was working on last night!"

Fuji: "Okay... and? This is the Netherworld. Thefts are bound to happen. It's your fault for not keeping a tighter lock on your stuff. Wait... you're not keeping all of your cash lying around in the open, are you?!"

Pirilika: "Of course not!"

Young Detective: "May we please get back on track to the case at hand?"

Fuji: "Who's this kid?"

Young Detective: "Kid?"

Pirilika: "Don't mind Fuji, he's just very blunt. This is Naoto Shirogane, a famous detective from one of the human worlds. He came to Hinomoto with his friends and offered to help out."

Fuji: "A human detective? You sure that's a good idea Piriko? I think you're wasting your money here."

Naoto: "Care to elaborate on that statement, Fuji?"

Fuji: "Didn't you hear what I said earlier? You're in the netherworld! Whatever criminal that did this is probably too powerful for you to handle even if you do find them."

Naoto: "In other words, you are doubting my combat capabilities, correct? Perhaps a test in strength would change your mind, if you would be so bold to face me that is."

Fuji: "He he... bold is the wrong word for it. I'll be sure to do my worst so you'll see what the Netherworld is all about!"

Part 2: Captain Ressentiment, Yosuke

Fuji: "Alright, not bad. You're tougher than you look."

Naoto: "I suppose this means the results are to your satisfaction, Fuji."

Fuji: "For the most part, but I'd better tag along anyway. Wouldn't want to wake up to phone calls of your friends yelling how we got you axed during a vacation."

Pirilika: "Fuji, if you wanted to help investigate, you could've just said so."

Fuji: coughs blood "You know damn well that ain't true!"

Naoto: "Blood? Do you need to go to the emergency room?"

Fuji: "It's just my allergies, I'm fine."

Naoto: "Allergies???"

Pirilika: "Fuji has an empathy allergy."

Naoto: "Is this a demon specific allergic reaction? It's the first I've heard such a thing."

Fuji: "Hey, didn't you say we should get back to the case at hand?"

Naoto: "R-Right... my apologies. Now then... hmm?"

Pirilika: "What is it, Naoto?"

Naoto: "It appears the culprit dropped a weapon in their haste to steal the dress."

Pirilika: "Doesn't look like a knife any of the prinnies carry."

Fuji: "In fact, it doesn't look like a knife you can find anywhere in Hinomoto."

Naoto: "In that case, that narrows our search down to one potential suspect."

-later...-

Shop owner: "And don't let me see you around here again, got it?!"

Brown Haired Guy: "Geez, getting kicked out because I asked for a bowl of ramen? How was I supposed to know this was a pasta shop?! Ugh, so much for nothing bad happening on a trip for once."

Naoto: "There you are, Yosuke senpai."

Yosuke: "Oh, Naoto. Man am I glad to see you right now. Who's the cat girl and horn guy?"

Naoto: "They're my new clients for a case today."

Yosuke: "Of course you'd be working when we're on vacation."

Pirilika: "I'll be sure to make it up to her when we're done, but right now, would you mind helping us out?"

Yosuke: "I already got a bad feeling down my spine, but what's up?"

Naoto: "Pirilika's dress was found missing this morning. The culprit left a knife at the scene of the crime. This knife to be exact."

Yosuke: "Wha- that's the knife I've been looking for all day yesterday!"

Pirilika: "This is your knife?"

Fuji: "Sounds like an open and shut case to me."

Yosuke: "Wait, hold on! I didn't take the dress!"

Fuji: "Nice try. I suggest you hand it over now before things get ugly."

Naoto: "Fuji, wait! We should at least hear his testimony first."

Yosuke: "Seriously, even you think I'm a suspect?!"

Pirilika: "You DID say it was your knife..."

Yosuke: "Give me a break already."

Part 3: Kingpin of Steel, Yu.

Naoto: "So you realized late afternoon yesterday that someone took your knife and searched for it well into the evening?"

Yosuke: "Yeah, that's what I've been trying to tell you. Yu was helping me look this whole time so he can verify!"

Fuji: "I don't know. Why were you so hard pressed on finding some knife?"

Yosuke: "In case I need to fight, why else?"

Fuji: "I get that, but couldn't you just buy another one?"

Pirilika: "Don't you get it, Fuji? That knife was a family heirloom that's been around for generations! He was so afraid of disappointing his father after losing it that he spent all day looking for it, otherwise he would have to spend the rest of his vacation bracing himself for severe punishment when he returns home!"

Fuji: "Piriko, what did I tell you about making up backstories?"

Yosuke: "Sad part is, I can totally see that happening if it was an heirloom. I'm actually just trying to save enough money as I can to buy a motorcycle. Chie seriously put me in a bind after buying those clothes for Teddie."

Fuji: "Now that I can relate to. It ain't easy being broke."

Naoto: "Very well senpai, as long as we can verify your testimony, you'll be in the clear. Do you happen to know where he is right now?"

Yosuke: "Last I saw him, he was playing with some cats not too far from here. I'll show you the way."

-later...-

Catsaber: meow

Silver haired male: "There you go. I caught another big one for ya."

Catsaber: purr purr...

Silver haired male: "You sure seem happy. I better check up on the others. Let me know if you get hungry again, alright?"

Catsaber: Meow!

Peppy Pigtail Girl: "Senpai!"

Silver haired male: "Ah, Rise. I was just about to look for- ah!"

Rise: hugs tight "Senpai, I can't tell you just how happy I am right now!"

Silver haired male: "I see the cat's not the only one in a good mood..."

Rise: lets go "How could I not be now that I got this new dress. What do you think?"

Silver haired male: "It looks great on you. You look like you're ready for your next huge show."

Rise: "Ooh! I knew it! I'm so glad you got it for me! I can't thank you enough right now!"

Silver haired male: "Wait, but I didn't-"

Pirilika: "There it is!"

Silver haired male: "Hmm?"

Pirilika: "My dress! We finally found it!"

Rise: "Wait, YOUR dress?"

Naoto: "Rise, you're currently in possession of the dress that went missing from Pirilika's wardrobe earlier this morning."

Rise: "What?! There must be a mistake. It's probably a duplicate."

Pirilika: "It can't be. I started making the dress myself yesterday only for it to disappear when I got up this morning."

Rise: "But... I got this as a gift from Yu senpai."

Yu: "But I didn't-"

Yosuke: "Come to think of it, whoever stole that dress did steal my knife too, but you wouldn't do something like that, right partner?"

Yu: "Of course not. I was-"

Fuji: "Seems to me we found our culprit. All that's left is to detain him."

Naoto: "Does Fuji usually rush into everything so recklessly?"

Pirilika: "Not all the time, but he does enjoy a good fight."

-after the battle...-

Yu: "Can you please hear me out now? I didn't-"

Naoto: "I know. You are not the culprit senpai."

Yu: "Please stop cutting me o- Oh wait, you knew?"

Fuji: "He's not guilty? How?"

Naoto: "If you let Yu senpai explain, he was probably going to tell you that he didn't give Rise that dress. He was with me all morning before Pirilika gave me the phone call to help her with the case."

Rise: "Wait, what were you two doing together?"

Yu: "We were just eating breakfast and talking about what we were planning on doing for today. Once Naoto received the phone call, she rushed out the door."

Fuji: "Wait "she"? You're a girl?!"

Pirilika: "You really are full of surprises, Naoto! I'm so glad I hired you."

Naoto: "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you get that attire, Rise?"

Rise: "Some weird looking penguin gave it to me as a delivery. The box said to me from Yu. I had no idea it was stolen."

Fuji: "So it WAS a prinny."

Pirilika: "Hold on, Fuji. The prinny probably didn't realize he was delivering a stolen item as the real culprit hid it among inside his delivery bag."

Prinny: "Special delivery for Miss Rise dood!"

Rise: "Hmm? Another one?"

Prinny: "That's right. Another gift from Yu. He must really like you, dood."

Yu: "About that, I don't remember sending anything to anyone lately."

Prinny: "Wait, Yu?! What are you- I mean... maybe you probably just...forgot dood. It happens."

Yosuke: "No, he has pretty good memory. He definitely would've remember doing something like that."

Prinny: "Okay well maybe he was trying to keep a low profile to sending gifts to Risette, dood!"

Rise: "Wait, how did you know I'm Risette?! I've been keeping a low profile since we got here!"

Prinny: Tries to back away. "Uh, well... you see dood... I-" Bumps into Fuji and drops the box he was carrying.

Fuji: "Going somewhere?"

Pirilika: *Gasp!* "That's the swimsuit I was going to pitch in my next meeting!"

Yu: "I also notice a few pictures of Rise coming out of his satchel."

Naoto: "It appears we have yet another Rise stalker scenario. He was likely trying to sneak rare photos of Rise in outfits Pirilika's company haven't released to the public."

Prinny: "Crap! My cover's blown! You'll never take me alive dood!" Runs away.

Fuji: "Piriko?"

Pirilika: "Fine, just don't go overboard."

Fuji: "You know I can't promise that. It's time to do my worst!" Runs after the prinny.

Rise: "Ugh, even when I'm on vacation in another world I just can't escape. I like being an idol, but I just want to relax together with senpai."

Pirilika: "I'm sorry for putting a damper on your brigade. I didn't mean to mess up your vacation."

Yosuke: "It's putting a damper on your parade and it's not your fault. If anything, you're as much of a victim here as any of us."

Yu: Scratches behind Pirilika's ears. "He's right. We're just glad it worked out in the end, so don't worry."

Pirilika: "Mmm... that feels so nice... I-I mean, I still want to make it up to you all. Especially Naoto for helping me out with this case to begin with. I really can't thank her enough."

Naoto: "Being able to provide assistance is rewarding enough, Pirilika. Don't be afraid to ask for my aid in the future."

Pirilika: "You're so cool, Naoto! A real spitting image of an ace detective. Actually, there is one thing. Fuji and I are traveling across Hinomoto to look for internal treasures so we can take down the shogunate that's been corrupting the land. I understand if you don't want to, but if you help us out, you can stay with us on my ship with your own room."

Naoto: "Hmm... I would more than happy to assist you, however a case such as this would require a team effort. Therefore, it would be more prudent to consult with our leader."

Yosuke: "She's got a point. If we're gonna help save the world, then we gotta stick together. We work a whole lot better as a team."

Rise: "What do you think, senpai? You up for spending our vacation by going on another adventure?"

Yu: "..."

Pirilika: "..."

Yu: "...When do we start?"

Pirilika: "You'll help?! Thank you so much! I promise, I'll take good care of you all while you're with-"

Boom!

Yosuke: "What was that?"

Pirilika: "Sounds like Fuji finally caught up with the prinny. Don't worry, I can heal him so he can be interrogated."

Yu: "What kind of adventure did we just sign up for?"

#persona 4 #disgaea 7 #fuji #pirilika #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #rise kujikawa #naoto shirogane

[ridreamir]

reader kisses melli. melli's tsundere act starts crumbling, but he does kiss back.

i've gone from hating melli to falling in love with him help me 😳

I like this request, thank you so much for sending it in! I'm aware that my writing is sparse in romantic intimacy, so perhaps this should be a nice change of pace. I think that, because of my cliche romance fanfiction beginnings, I drifted away from it because I was embarrassed by the terrible things I wrote. However, it makes sense to start returning to those topics now instead of putting it off for that shame I internalized.

I suppose that's a roundabout way of warning you that this is something I'm exceptionally bad at. .

. Melli ran his hands through his sopping wet, untwisted hair, trying to get it untangled. It really wasn't much use, but it was something to do whilst trying to wait out the storm now that the area had been surveyed for possible outbreaks. You leaned against the cave wall, not fairing much better than he. The storm was in all honestly, just an excuse for him to tag along, something he might have regretted if he knew it meant being shut in a dinky little hole in the mountain. "Quite the weather we're having." He groaned with an edge of sarcasm as if somehow it had been your doing. "Can't the All Mighty Sinnoh do anything to quell the raging storm? I hardly see how they have anything to do with your "Surveying" now that we know there aren't outbreaks forming." "Well that's the thing, we don't know how those storms form." You sighed, sliding further down the rock wall. "We don't know if any kind of storm can turn into one that causes Massive Mass Outbreaks." He returned your enthusiasm by rolling his eyes. "The Great Melli, doing grunt work, like a peon. Revolting." You sputtered a laugh, and he turned his eye to you, a smirk forming. If this were the two of you a little less than half a year ago, he would have been bickering at you for looking sour at his words, but you've more recently come to find humor in his narcissism. "That is to say, someone who worships my likeness is surely no match for such labors. I'm appalled by the ignorance of your Galaxy Team, treating you as their glorified errand dog." "You don't say." You humored him. "And how does the Great Melli believe my abilities would best be utilized?" He tossed his head back with a loud scoff. "Why, if you become a member of the Diamond Clan, I might see to it that you be designated my assistant! What a great honor it would be for you, an outsider, to assist the most brilliant Warden in all Hisui!" He ended that note with a clap of his hands and a far-off, pleased look on his face. "Oh sure." You deadpanned. "If the Galaxy Team agreed to let me go, that might just happen." He paled, grim in the realization that there was no way they'd lessen their tyrannical hold on you, their most valuable asset. The pout on his lips did not go unnoticed.

"...It's not like I'd need you, I'm perfectly capable on my own, you see. Why, you'd be useless to me anyway." He tried spinning around his tale. "I'm flawless in everything I do."

With that, he killed the playful banter. The look you gave him was heavy, and he had shifted under the weight of it. Then, after that drawn-out pause of staring at each other, he realized a bit late that your open palms were approaching his face at great speeds.

He bleated out of surprise and whipped his arms up to shield himself, and then he heard what sounded like laughter spewing from you.

"Sorry! Sorry!" You forced out between gasps of air, retracting your hands. "Ahaha-- I'm so sorry!" "You were going to hit me!!" He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction. "I was trying to kiss you!" You defended yourself, flustering after saying it out loud. "I- Kiss me??" He sputtered, his hand slapping his face. "You-! Phht- Hahaha!! No way!" He should his head in disbelief. "I really misread that one didn't I?" He winced with a smile on his face, trying to gracefully soak in the fact that he squandered his chance at a first kiss. "..." "Well... If you still felt inclined," He averted his eyes. "Then I suppose you could kiss me." "..." "I- Do I have to initiate it, now that you know?" You blurted out and he shot up straight, a heated blush forming on his face faster than he could stop it. "Of course you do!! Finish what you started!!"

#warden melli #pokemon legends arceus #x reader #romance #pla melli #hisui

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

~

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #nct jaehyun #nct fluff #nct jung yoonoh

[animatedrapture]

"𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖞" — suna rintarou ;

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?

It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.

It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.

That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.

"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

"Yeah?"

"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."

"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.

"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"

"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.

"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.

They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"

"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."

"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."

That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #suna #haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu imagines #rintarou suna #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna Rintarō #;cloud #IM SO PRESSED!!! #so anNOYED!! #GODDAMN HAD TO REPOST

[thetravelingmaster]

Anonymity - Shield or Weapon?

The most common thing among us in this community is Anonymity. We all use it to some degree when indulging our Kinks. Our first and foremost reason to do it is, of course, to keep us safe as we explore this strange and for some, embarrassing kinky world of non conventional arousal. The internet is a heaven for everyone to learn and explore ANYTHING their hearts may find desirable.

Are identities aren't needed to indulge and discover new things about ourselves. You can call yourself Jack, Jill, Fran or Hornybabyslut. It doesn't matter. It helps create a sense of security that enables you to dive into what ever kink you feel you can't indulge in your every day life.

And even if you can indulge IRL and are fully accepted as the kinkster that you are, Anonymity affords you a a free shield for you to protect your wonderful life from the dark and ill intentioned predators constantly surfing the World Wide Web for prey.

Anonymity isn't bad at all. It's recommended.

Exploring and enjoying our different kinks can lead you to wonderful and emotional places. Places you may not go if you couldn't be someone else.

Anonymity is a perfect and accepted shield we all carry.

But it doesn't mean you can't be yourself. It doesn't mean you can't be honest and true with yourself and the people you engage with.

You can call yourself Gina64 and be a full on kinky bimbo slut that talks and acts so dumb and dirty that the people you engage with online think you are nothing more. If that is your way to explore and escape, there is nothing wrong with that. You can become anyone you wish once you fire up your phone or your computer.

That is the beauty of this wonderful and dark internet.

When all is said and done, Gina64 is just a persona you try on. She may or may not have the same beliefs as you promote in your every day life. That's perfectly fine.

Anonymity offers that possibility. That safety...

However...

Anonymity can also be a weapon.

That same safety can protect the bad people that are looking to take advantage of others.

Just like a sword, it can be used to defend and protect as well as divide and conquer. It all depends on who wields it and what they choose to do with the sword in their hands.

My point is very simple: Anonymity doesn't half to mean that you can be 100% yourself.

For the purpose of this post, I'm going to exclude the people that come here to become someone else. It can be a very therapeutic and I definitely not saying that being a completely different person online is wrong in anyway.

Well not in itself...

And that's what I mean. You can play at being fun and fluffy or dark and brooding, what ever fills your cup of tea. As long as you are being honest with yourself about why you are doing it.

The problem I have tonight as I write these lines is when the kink in question involves hypnosis. Not fun roleplaying, but REAL hypnosis and subsequent play.

You have to be very honest and open to engage in that sort of kink and Anonymity can offer you that safe space to indulge from.

BUT ANONYMITY DOESN'T MEAN YOU ARE BEING DISHONEST.

Being dishonest has nothing to do with anonymity and here is an example of what I mean. Say Our Gina64 is into hypnosis. Say she searches out potential erotic hypnotists online to explore and indulge that itch. She can call herself Gina64 and be a dude. It doesn't really matter as long as you are being honest and about the level of things you wish to reveal to the hypnotist.

If you are being honest with yourself and the person you are engaging with, no harm no foul.

But say that Gina64 doesn't want to reveal that he is in fact a guy. It could be fine if the hypnotist doesn't care. But what if the reason you are engaging in hypnosis is to experience erotic hypnosis? And that Gina64 leads the hypnotist on being saying again and again that they are a girl. For all of us, erotic hypnosis in our Kink community is arousing and erotic for both parties. So a hypnotist that decides to engage and offer erotic hypnosis to Gina64 while under the impression that he is a she when in fact they are a HE...

Well... That can create confusing and even dangerous things down the road. If the connection develops and more and more the hypnotist is made to believe in this falsehood, then it creates an invisible rift between them. A very dishonest rift...

A rift that can actually hurt... Especially if the hypnosis kink also includes flavours of Domination and submission. We all know and understand that D/s play can stir up incredibly powerful emotions. As the lies pile on to covert up more lies, the cycle becomes deeper and darker with every dishonest reply.

Until Gina64 finds himself in a position where the lies have boxed him in and he has to bail out instead of admitting to everything he led the hypnotist to believe and experience.

And I'm not even going to talk about people who create elaborate and complex fake personas to actively catfish people...

I'm not saying that all people who indulge in hypnokink and D/s play should always reveal everything about themselves, far from it.

What I'm saying is that you just have to be HONEST as to what type of person you are and what you want to experience. Our community can be very open minded. It's the very nature of our kink.

And anonymity provides the perfect way to be 100% true to yourself without fear or worries.

To properly demonstrate how one can be completely anonymous and still be incredibly honest, I'm going to talk about friend @qu1etsleep.

Theo is an incredible human being and hypnotist that is, like me, adamant about keeping his online life separate from his offline life. He doesn't shy away from telling anyone who contacts him that Theo isn't his real name and that there is no respectful way in hell that you'll ever get a glimpse or a clue as to who he really is.

His Anonymity is a shield meant to keep the lines clear between his hobby and his life. We all do that in some form or another.

I might not know Theo's true name and identity, but I do know that if I were to ever sit in a cafe somewhere and end up chatting with the man behind the blog, then those 2 persons would be identical.

I'd have the same exact conversations and learn about all the exact same opinions Theo and the man in front of me share.

Because even though his name has changed, he will still be the same person. he just changed out his name tag. Nothing else changed.

Theo is authentic with himself and with everyone that takes the time to talk with him. His Anonymity doesn't affect or change that at all. It just offers him the same safety we all crave.

This authenticity is what makes him, in my humble opinion, a terrific and accomplished 'amateur' hypnotist. Make no mistake, he is no rookie and he WILL drop you if the rapport is there. Authentic and Anonymous...

That is what this community needs above all else.

Some of you MIGHT just understand why I'm ranting about all this tonight, and you would be right. I've felt the sting of this double edged sword and it took others to help me see just how far down the fake rabbit hole I had been led into.

But now I'm out, dusting off the creepiness of the experience and moving on.

So by all means, soak yourselves in Anonymity until people in our kink community aren't even sure who you are...

But BE HONEST. And if you do, I think you'll find even more incredible people and exquisite experiences to be had. You'd be surprised how much someone can accept and understand.

As a point of fact, if the person you are trying to let into your mind isn't opened minded enough to accept your own authenticity, then perhaps you should seriously rethink the fact that you are giving them the keys to your mental palace.

There is no gain from being dishonest and stringing people along.

Unless that is the pleasure you are seeking here... If that is the case, then maybe you should start understanding that you are no better than a full blown predator.

And that is something our community needs the least of all.

We are all searching and indulging ourselves in our forbidden and delicious kinks, there is nothing wrong with that.

Enjoy your safe and secure anonymity, but do it responsibly and above all, do it while being honest with yourself and others.

#musings

[ahsokadrabbles]

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 [obi-wan kenobi x skywalker!reader

obi-wan and his padawan spend a day with the younglings. 

word count: 2k

warnings: teeth rotting fluff. enjoy! 

the soul purpose of this drabble is that it was soft for obi hours, but i think i’m going to turn this into a series so stay tuned! 

You had come to a crossroads in your training as a padawan. You were no longer a youngling, but still a student beneath your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You were one of the eldest padawans which you never minded, you liked putting on the role of big sister, but it was hard to still be a padawan when in your head you felt much more grown. If it hadn't been for you older brother Anakin being the star of the show when the two of you arrived at the temple many years ago, maybe you would've been a Jedi Knight by now. You loved your brother dearly, but you had always lived in his shadow. His grand title of "Chosen One" loomed above you like dark cloud while he wore it on his head like a crown. It wasn't until three years ago that he outgrew his Master and earned a padawan of his own. It soon became your time to be Master Kenobi's student. Now, every day you woke up with the sun and trained, just as you had watched your big brother do when you were young. It was rewarding, but it soon became old news. You had begun to feel like a grown woman trying to sleep in her childhood bed. You had the mind of a Knight, but your skills just weren't there yet. If you were your brother, you'd throw a fit about not being good enough, but you were patient and devoted to learning. Your Master admired this trait in you. You and your brother were like night and day to him. Anakin was the sun, firey and opinionated, while you were the moon, quiet and wise beyond your years.

You awoke to your friend and your brother's padawan, Ahsoka Tano, shaking you awake. The younger Togruta hung above you in bed, her striped montrals and padawan beads brushing against your groggy face. "I'm awake, I'm awake" You laughed, sitting up in bed. Ahsoka plopped down at the foot of your bed, watching you with cat-like curiousity. "Are you going to get out of bed?" She asked. You stretched your arms up over your head and glanced at the flickering analog clock that sat on your nightstand. The time was nearly obscured by all the things you had crowded on the table. Copies of Jedi texts, spare saber parts, jewelry, and pictures of you and your friends and family. "I have a few minuets to spare." You shrugged, falling back against your sea of pillows with a quiet thud. "You weren't up all night fantasizing about your Master again were you?" The younger teased, which earned her a swat on the leg from you. "Ahsoka!" You gasped, now blushing furiously. She was the first person to catch onto your little crush on your master, and now she teased you relentlessly for it. "You know I'd never tell, I'm just playing with you." A tender look swam in her blue eyes, she always meant any word she said. Ahsoka was the most loyal friend you could ever ask for. "I was actually up all night studying." You replied, finally forcing yourself out of bed. "I wanted to make sure I had all my information straight for the presentation for the younglings today." You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked past and wrinkled your nose. Your hair stuck up in ever single direction and your eyes remained puffy from sleep. Perhaps you had underestimated the amount of time you'd need to get ready this morning. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, you have me after all." Ahsoka sang, batting her eyes in your direction. "I just really need to prove myself. I'm getting old you know." You said as you retrieved a fresh pair of clothes from the closet. "You're only eighteen, Y/N." The togruta folded her legs beneath herself on the corner of your mattress. "Your starting to sound more and more like Master Kenobi every day. I think you're around him too much." You let out an airy chuckle as you changed out of your pajamas. "Yes, but Anakin was so much farther ahead of me when he was my age. I'm afraid Obi-Wan will start to lose faith in me." "Don't be silly, Y/N." Ahsoka sighed, now stood behind you. In the mirror before you two she could be seen, barely, considering she was a head shorter than you, with her hands placed tenderly on your shoulders. "Can I do your hair?" You watched the clock tick by as your friend separated out your strands of hair and twisted them into an intricate up-do. For someone with no hair, she was quite good at doing it. "Done with three minuets to spare. We better go find our masters."

The pair of you met your masters just in time as they appeared in the lift the moment you hit the button to summon it up. "There you are, Y/N." Master Kenobi said, Anakin stood smugly by his side. "You were almost late." Anakin added before Obi-Wan gave him a swift kick in the ankle. Your brother let out a hiss as you and his padawan enter into the now cramped lift. You were stood in front of your master, your back nearly press flush against his chest, and you could feel Ahsoka's knowing stare burning into the left side of your head. "Did you do something different with your hair?" Master Kenobi asked, his Couscanti drawl lingering in your chest and making your face burn red. "Ahsoka did it for me." You replied. The girl could be seen beaming from out of the corner of your eye as the doors of the lift slid open. Your quickly stepped out and filled your lungs with air, you could hardly breathe in there. "Would you relax?" Ahsoka laughed once the two of you got ahead of your masters. "Sorry," You stuttered, rubbing your hands up and down the length of your arms in attempt to rub away the goosebumps the mere sound of his voice had given you. "You are so head over heels." "Wrong way you two," You heard Anakin call out. You turned around on your heel to see that you had missed your turn toward the nursery. While you blushed with embarrassment Ahsoka dragged your frozen form down the right hallway. "He probably thinks I'm such a fool-" "Please for the love of Stars get out of your head." The togruta muttered as she set you down in front of the nursery door. "There you are," Master Kenobi said, poking his head out of the door. You let out a yelp, his appearance had caught you by surprise. "Are you feeling well, Y/N?" His blue eyes shifted towards Ahsoka with his brow furrowed in worry. "I just turned the wrong way coming here." You answered for yourself. "Silly girl," Obi-Wan sighed, ushering you and your friend into the dimly lit classroom. The children were sat in a circle, immersed in the blue glow of the hologram in the center of the room. A map of Coruscant and the planets that surrounded it flickered before their small and intrigued faces. "Master Kenobi!" One of the younglings babbled excitedly. Obi-Wan pressed his finger to his lips with a soft smile. "Listen carefully to Master Yoda, young one." "You're kind of a celebrity, aren't you?" Ahsoka teased, gently nudging Master Kenobi's shoulder. "Oh, he's always a big hit with the younglings." You quietly laughed. "Do you remember the other day at the library?" You asked your master. He smiled fondly at the memory and your heart fluttered at the way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he grinned "We were trying to find texts on the Coruscant system for today's lesson and some younglings also happened to be there learning how to use the data pads. Needless to say it ended in them all hanging onto Master Kenobi's cloak." Ahsoka and Anakin laughed while your master just shook his head and grinned. "Master Kenobi, would you like to introduce the padawans?" Master Yoda said, summoning Obi-Wan in front of the group of students. You admired him bathed in hologram stars and surrounded by planets. Just like you, they orbited around him. Without him there they'd be lost, he was their beacon, their guiding force.

You and Ahsoka's presentation on the Coruscant system was well received by the younglings. At the end of it you were bombarded with all sorts of questions and excited remarks. Now you were sat in a chair, not made for someone your size, watching the children intently color and label a map of the system they had just learned about. Your master soon pulled up a chair beside you, it looked even smaller beneath him. "Is something funny?" He playfully asked, watching as you snickered at the seat dwarfed under him. "Oh, nothing at all!" "Do you want a coloring page?" You teased, gesturing toward the stack in the middle of the table. "Not for me, but it seems Ahsoka and Anakin have already helped themselves." You looked across the room to see your brother and Ahsoka both hunched over a shared coloring page shading in all the various planets. "Does mine look alright, Master Kenobi?" One of the younglings, a small green Twi'Lek girl, asked. "It looks very nice! What do you think, Y/N?" Your master said. "That is lovely, Amida!" You gushed. "Everyone's looks so wonderful. I'm very proud of all of you."

Master Yoda had given you and Ahsoka free reign over his lesson so it was up to the two of you to plan all of the activities. Next was a game of what you had named Planet Tag. Each youngling was assigned a planet and if they were tagged by another student, they'd have to say a fact about that planet. There were two other extra planets left, so Ashoka and Anakin took it up to themselves to also play, but after a while they grew tired. "Want to switch out?" Anakin panted, slyly nudging Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Why don't Ahsoka and Y/N play?" He suggested, stroking his beard. "I'm beat, Master Kenobi." The togruta huffed. "Come on! It will be fun!" You said, tugging him towards the center of the room by his wrist. "I don't know, Padawan-" "Did you not listen to my presentation?" You gasped. "Do you not know your planets, Master Kenobi?" He sighed and stood up from his too small chair. "Well, now I must since you've challenged me." He said before teasingly narrowing his eyes at you. The two of you joined the children in their game and Obi-Wan kept getting tagged. He was tagged so many times that he started to run out of facts to say. "You've already said that one, Master Kenobi!" The younglings giggled. "Well then I guess the game is done." You announced, looking out at the small crowd of worn out children in front of you.

You ended the class by reading a story. All the younglings gathered in front of you on the carpet, all surrounding your Master who was sat in the center of them. It didn't take long until the younglings grew sleepy, some fell asleep with their heads in Obi-Wan's lap, other's leaned up against him while they snored softly. In the very back row even Anakin and Ahsoka could be seen nodding off, leaned up against each other's backs for support. "I think that's enough of that." You said, watching as Obi-Wan smiled fondly down at the youngling asleep in his lap. "Very good job, Y/N." Master Kenobi quietly congratulated as he stroked the head of the sleeping wookie in his lap. "Thank you, Master." You replied. After a long moment of quiet, Obi-Wan spoke again. "I remember when you and your brother were younglings." He said with a fond laugh. "You've grown up a lot since then. I'm very proud of you, Y/N." Yet again your master had you blushing, you were thankful that the lights of the classroom had since dimmed. "Get some rest, young one." "I can't fall asleep in here." You laughed with a shake of your head. Obi-Wan stealthily stood up and tip toed his way over the sleeping children curled up on the floor until he finally made his way to you and sat down on the floor again beside you. "Sleep," He repeated, patting his shoulder. You hesitantly rested your head against him, letting the warm smell of his skin and his robes lull you to sleep.

let me know if you’d like to be added to my obi taglist! also feel free to send in requests my ask box is open and in need of some lovin’. thanks for reading! <3

#obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi #star wars #star wars imagines #clone wars

[lunarflux]

han jisung x reader / femme o/c

genre — fluff

cafe!au pt 2

suggested background music: x

9:59pm

Like clockwork, Jisung switched off the lights to The Rose Room. The quaint little cafe he owned with a friend seemed to have the most solemn atmosphere just before closing, and tonight was no exception. The red glow from the streetlights danced along the freshly polished floor like a night light. It was time to lock up and head home.

Jisung polished off the last of his coffee, forever regretting how much caffeine he continuously consumed just before he had to sleep. All the part-timers had gone home for the night, and the only company left in his coffee house was the sound of flickering lights and a symphony of car horns from down the road.

10:05pm

Jisung had his key in the door, but in his head, he was counting down.

Ten seconds.

With a deep breath, he heard the gears click together, and right on time, there she was.

Hyacinth & Holly - that was the name of the flower shop across the way. Jisung had his routine locked down that by the time the doors had shut, you were about to walk out.

Always carrying a fresh bouquet of blue hydrangeas, there you were. Locking up your own little kingdom of hues and aromas, you turned and gave him a small wave.

This was the routine that Jisung always looked forward to at the end of the day - seeing you even if for a moment. You both always walked in opposite directions, but that simple five seconds of eye contact were enough to make him forget his fatigue.

One day, he'll talk to you.

One day.

But this is not that day.

Jisung turned his heel, knowing you'd easily turn yours away from him. The walk back to his apartment was always quiet, but lately, it was even more solemn.

Hyunjin, your last-minute roommate had moved out last week to live with his girlfriend. It was just one less person he interacted with during the day, and it was only then that he realized, he didn't really talk to that many people.

In his head, he would imagine you walking through the doors of the Rose Room.

Strawberry latte? Iced rose tea? - He would guess your favorite drinks in the hopes that one day, you'd walk in, and he could surprise you.

Hyunjin used to tease him.

"Just go over there on your break. You're never gonna know her name unless you just talk to her."

Jisung scoffed at the thought of that conversation, remembering how it took over a month for Hyunjin to confess his own feelings. Then again, the flower shop opened up a few months ago, and still he hasn't spoken to you.

One day.

**

Jisung walked into the Rose Room at 2:00pm.

An unfamiliar vase with two massive sunflowers sat on the bar top.

"What's this?" He picked up one of the yellow stalks and prodded it with a small smile on his face.

Jeongin continued to work on his Americano. "The girl from the shop across the street dropped it off this morning. She said someone canceled their order, and she'd already clipped the stems so it'd be a waste not to put them out."

Jisung felt the lump in his throat expand. She had been in here.

"I was gonna bring her a drink to say thanks, but I didn't ask what she liked." Jeongin slipped off his apron. "I figured an Americano would be okay -"

"I'll do it." Jisung interrupted. "But give that to the next customer, I'll make something."

**

Carrying a small plastic lunch bag, Jisung steadied himself. The strawberries in the sandwich he made had to stay pristine. Paired with the rose tea, he made his way over to the storefront, ready to be either rejected or welcomed.

"Hello!" A part-timer greeted, the name 'Yeji' scribbled on her name tag. "Can I help you?"

"Um -" The familiar lump in his throat was back. "Th-The girl who brought the sunflowers. Is she here?"

Yeji tilted her head, looking over to the sunflowers behind Jisung, not realizing the amount had been altered. "That might have been my boss? But she isn't here."

"Oh." Jisung was almost relieved.

"Is that for her?" Yeji motioned towards the lunch bag.

"No - I mean, yes, but -"

"She'll be back later. She only came in to help prepare an order, but she closes usually." Yeji said with a smile. "Do you want me to leave that in the back -"

"No!" Jisung nearly screamed. "I mean, no, no, I'll come back. If... that's okay?"

The surprised girl nodded quietly.

**

9:48pm

The strawberries in the sandwich got soggy and the rose tea watered down. Jisung slumped his head over the counter, still cringing from today's interaction with the girl who very well knows his crush and could easily ruin his chances.

Why am I so awkward?

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, peering out into the street. He didn't know if you were there. He didn't even know if he could muster up the same courage to go back.

Jisung reached for the door, tempted to just run over if only to catch you before you closed up, but before he could, you emerged.

Holding his breath, he watched as you walked outside - but not alone.

You were with someone. A guy. He patted your head, and you smiled back.

Jisung's grip on the door handle pushed the blood from his knuckles. It was too good to be true. He waited too long.

And just like that, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He didn't even know you, yet he already felt that familiar pang of sadness and disappointment. It wasn't as if he was craving a relationship, and perhaps, he had built you up too much in his head. He didn't know your name or your favorite color. He didn't know the music you liked to listen to on your way to work or the sound of your laugh. He really didn't know anything, and seeing this solidified that thought.

You were a stranger after all.

**

Hyunjin and his girlfriend, the day manager left together today, but not before trying to talk Jisung out of his mood.

"You know that might not be her boyfriend," she shook her head. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"What other guy would meet up with her that late at night?" Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "If you were the closing manager, you know I'd show up to walk you home."

Jisung cringed, seeing the couple exchange loving glances.

"We're just saying not to give up. You can't wait forever."

They weren't wrong. It seemed better to try now and get rejected than to wait and wonder.

**

9:59pm

It seemed automatic now. The counting. Only now, he didn't really know what he was counting down to.

Jisung heaved a heavy sigh as he inserted his key.

9

8

7

"Are you closed?"

5

Wait.

Jisung nearly stumbled down from the small ledge of the door.

There you were. Apron and purse in one hand a fresh bouquet of blue hydrangeas in the other.

"Yeah, we closed -" He cleared his throat. "We closed - I mean, we close at 9:30."

"Oh." You almost looked upset. "I'm sorry, I'm just so used to seeing you leave after ten, so I wasn't sure. I always wake up too late to come here before my shift, and you guys are always so busy.

Jisung put his key back in the lock without thinking. Opening the door, he held his breath.

"I can make you something."

**

You swung your legs under the seat. Jisung quietly steeped the same kind of rose tea he wanted to give to you before. Glancing over, he could see one of the last strawberry sandwiches of the day as if it had been waiting for him to reenter.

"Do you always work late?"

He heard your small voice over the counter. Walking up, you joined him so that the only thing between you was marble. Jisung nodded, setting the glass of tea and sandwich in front of you.

"Yeji told me you stopped by yesterday. I'm sorry, I missed you."

"It's fine." He could feel the cold sweat on the back of his neck. "I would have brought it later, but your boyfriend was there."

"Ex."

"Ex?"

"Ex." You smiled, quietly sipping your tea with a blissful sigh he'd never seen before. "Dropping off my spare work key. I'd forgotten it when I moved out last month."

Ex. Her ex boyfriend. Of course.

"Why did you break up?"

Picking at the edges of the sandwich, you shrugged. "You know how it is. Working adults not working the same schedule. I like working the night shifts. I like closing the store. And he hated how many hydrangeas I brought home. Said it made the apartment smell too much."

"I think they're pretty. The blue ones."

As if you'd forgotten the color already, you giggled. "They're my favorite."

"Mine, too." Jisung could feel the air lessen.

"I can bring you some tomorrow if you'd like."

"That'd be nice." He smiled, genuinely for the first time in what seemed like a long time. "If you want, I could -" He caught himself.

You nodded towards him, midway through your sandwich.

Punching his leg, Jisung quietly scolded himself. "If you want... I could walk you to work. I'd like to see you - the flowers, I mean, and everything tomorrow. Y'know. Before it gets dark."

"You'd wake up early for flowers?"

"W-Well, yes, and I need to wake up earlier anyway - I drink too much caffeine at work, and I need to stop sleeping so late, and -"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'd like that," you beamed.

Jisung almost choked. "I'm sorry, it's just. Well. I don't even know your name."

"y/n." You poked his cheek. "All you had to do was ask."

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #han fluff #jisung fluff #han jisung fluff #han jisung #skz fluff #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #han x oc #han x o/c #skz scenarios #skz imagines #kpop fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #one shot #jisung x you #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #cafe!au #fluff #skz

[elriel-oblivion]

So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰

Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅

Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉

Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part II

__

It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.

Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.

So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.

With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.

Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.

Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.

Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.

After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?

Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.

Or so everybody else kept saying.

With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.

A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.

Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.

Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.

The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.

She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.

Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'

His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.

She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'

His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.

A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.

It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.

The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.

The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.

Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.

Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.

And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.

They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.

It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.

No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.

Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.

She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.

But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?

She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.

Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.

Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.

No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.

No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.

Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -

There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.

Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.

She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'

Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.

She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'

Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?

'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?

His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'

His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.

'You want to wash my hair?'

His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?

And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?

A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?

No, she didn't want to know.

So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'

He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.

'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?

She leashed her arms.

What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?

His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'

His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.

And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.

So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.

The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter. 

'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.

Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.

As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.

He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.

Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.

He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.

Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.

Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.

After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.

This was - what was this?

She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.

She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.

Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.

He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.

'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.

___

Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊

If anyone wants to know what the datura flowers look like, CTTO:

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17

#elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elriel #acotar

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.11 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st, ‪11:46 AM

‬Haddonfield, Illinois

The man walked into the foyer of the large house, squeezing passed the very large security guard who answered the door. A large grandiose staircase arose before him and split half-way up to the second floor, veering off right and left directing toward the two wings of the giant mansion. To his left was a luxiorious dining room with seating for up to twenty. Large renassiance style portraits hung on the walls: picturesque scenes of Italian countrysides and vineyards, the kind of paintings you'd see reproduced on the walls inside of an Olive Garden, only these were no doubt original. To the man's right was a large parlor, with more vibrant paintings, sculptures, antique sofas, and a grand piano in the far corner.

An elderly woman sat on one of these. She was cross-stitching silently. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed, and then she looked back at what she was doing. The man sighed, ignoring her. In front of him, to the left of the stairs was a sliding door that opened into the actual living space of the home. From there he heard the voice call to him, “Come in son, come on in.”

The man entered the room and saw his boss sitting on a large leather sofa, a persian cat on his lap. He was watching the large flatscreen television mounted above the stone-hearthed fireplace before him. More aerial shots of the burning hospital. The man was frail, liver spots speckled his olive skin. His hair, once brown, was gray and thinning at the top, his eyes once black as night has turned to the color of charcoal smoke. He wore a plush royal blue robe and an old fashioned sleeping cap that reminded the visitor of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

The man bent to one knee before the old man. The cat hissed and jumped off the elderly man's lap and ran off toward the adjacent kitchen. The old man extended his hand, “Thank you for coming so soon.”

The man kissed the old man's hand, “Sure thing Mr. Vizzini.”

“I hope I did not trouble you too much last night Andre,” Mr. Vizzini said as Andre took a seat on the couch beside him.

Andre smiled, “Hey boss...a little romp through the woods never hurt no one.”

Mr. Vizzini laughed. “Good. I didn't get to apologize to you before when we spoke. We were...” he chose his words carefully, “too busy speaking of the grave matter at hand.”

Andre nodded.

“I trust you delivered my message to Mr. Tarasenko and our beloved mayor?” Mr. Vizzini asked, turning back toward the television.

Andre turned toward the screen as well, the national news had gotten a hold of Holly West's interview with Rosalita and were now playing it to the nation.

“Yes boss,” Andre sighed, “And I would have called you sooner but I was getting some much needed sleep.”

Mr. Vizzini nodded, “Your insomnia again?”

“Yes sir, it's been a really bitch, pardon my french.”

Mr. Vizzini smiled, “Well we all need our rest. When one is tired, one cannot think.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I need everyone at the top of their mental capacities.”

“I agree.” Andre remarked.

The old man held up a small square device that he had in his lap. It was a gray box with a single solitary red button on the top. He held it up now and pushed it. Somewhere in the far reaches of the house a chime was heard, soft and tonal. After a few seconds, there was a small crackle of static, and a woman's voice could be heard on an un-seen speaker.

“Yes Mr. Vizzini?”

The old man cleared his throat, “Caterina, would you be a dear and bring my guest and I a scotch on the rocks please?”

“Certainly Mr. Vizzini.”

There was a click indicating the speaker went dead.

“So what did our friends have to say for themselves?” Mr. Vizzini cocked his head to one side inquisitively.

“Tarasenko looks shaken up.” Andre said.

Vizzini grunted and nodded.

“And Dodge wants another front, just like you said he would,” Andre smiled.

“And you told him that that would not be possible?” The old man cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes sir,” Andre said, “he asked me to ask you to reconsider, again, just as you said.”

The old man sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes as if wrapped in meditation.

There were footsteps and into the kitchen appeared a young, tall, beautiful red headed woman that Andre had seen before. It was the waitress from Lou Martini's club.

Tina Tomcat, Andre remembered.

She looked tired in the face, but smiled at the two men cheerfully, holding a small glass in each hand of the brown scotch. Little crushed ice floated in each glass. Her corset had been replaced by a very cliché french maid outfit, which covered her private parts and some more of her body, but not much else.

Mr. Vizzini smiled as he took his glass, “Andre, I'd like you to meet Caterina. Caterina this is my dear friend Mr. Andre.”

Tina smiled at Andre and held out his glass. He took it with a smile of his own.

“We've met before,” Andre replied.

The old man waved a wrinkled hand, “Ah I suppose so, at the Rabbit-in-Red!” Mr. Vizzini took a sip of his drink and then said, “Caterina came in late this morning after no doubt a night of considerable carousing. Mr. Andre and I were just discussing how important sleep is to the body.”

Tina turned and waved a hand back at him, “I'll sleep when I'm dead,” she said with a wink, “besides, I make a hell of a lot more at the Rabbit than I do at this place.”

Andre's eyes went wide. He stared at Mr. Vizzini nervously and took a sip of his drink. He winced. It was very strong.

Mr. Vizzini broke into laughter, which then turned into racked coughing. When he was done coughing, he wiped his eyes and said, “That's what I love about her.” He choked another gulp of his drink down. “I appreciate honesty in a woman.” He raised his glass to Tina.

Tina gave a little curtsy, and disappeared around the corner.

The two men looked back at the television. A picture of the Chumway brothers now dominated the screen. The big bold tag line at the bottom read: MANHUNT ENDS IN MAYHEM.

After a moment, Andre cleared his throat, “Sir, may I offer an opinion.”

Mr. Vizzini sipped and nodded, “Certainly. My appreciation for frankness is not specific to the female gender.”

“I worry that this may not be a good time to send a message to Dodge.” Andre looked down at his glass. The old man had a reputation, he didn't want to discover the fine line only after crossing it.

“You think I should give Mayor Dodge the money.” Vizzini said, very frank himself.

“I think it would be wise to, I think we can both agree the situation has changed.” Andre said, gesturing toward the television.

“I think for the better perhaps.” Vizzini replied. “To my knowledge, the shipment has yet to be...spoiled shall we say. There may be time and an opportunity here to...salvage it, and for that I'll need friends in high places, and for that I'll need leverage.”

“I haven't considered that,” Andre admitted, “But there is always the flip side. This place is now crawling with law enforcement at all levels, and no matter how good we are, there is always a trail, and eventually that trail leads to Tarasenko, which in turns leads to Dodge, which in turns leads to you.”

“I have considered it,” Vizzini said. He sucked the rest of the scotch down in the glass with a loud slurp.

“What was done with the van, if I may ask?”

Vizzini waved, “Oh that was easy. The First Congregational Church of Holiness and Power was just bequeathed a brand new cargo van for their congregation. Complete with title in the envelope signed off to the church from a Mr. Juan Pagan of Winchester Indiana and cash to obtain a new tag.”

Andre smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Mr. Pagan even called me this morning and told me the Pastor of the church called him and thanked him personally.”

“Praise God,” Andre lifted his glass.

“Indeed.” Vizzini took some ice in his mouth and chewed it.

“However.” Andre frowned, “If the cops do get the shipment and nab Tarasenko, do you think he'll talk?”

“Doubtful,” Vizzini responded.

“What about Dodge?” Andre asked. “I see the honorable mayor putting a finger on you at the first hint of trouble.”

“Oh please,” Vizzini laughed, “I have the ability to be on flight to the United Arab Emirates like that,” he snapped his gnarled fingers, “Robert Dodge would love to fantasize but as yet he possessed no such ability. He will go down, he will go down hard and he will go down alone.”

“Is that what you want?” Andre asked.

“Of course not. I'm going to give him the money Andre. This is an opportunity with two heads.”

“How so?”

“On one hand, this is a great opportunity to get more out of our arrangement with Dodge. The spotlight is on him now,” Vizzini gestured at the TV which was now in a commercial. Ramon Aguilar of the newly crowned World Champion Chicago Cubs was singing the praises of a Liberty Burger extra-value meal.

“He'll be desperate. Like an ant under a magnifying glass directing the light of the sun, he will have no where to go and he will be like puddy in my hands.”

Vizzini's eyes went dark. I'm beginning to see the reputation, Andre thought.

“From the other angle,” Vizzini continued, “this is a good time to teach a lesson. The mayor has to learn that he is becoming a liability for me. A liability that I can no longer stomach.”

Andre drained the last of his scotch. “I just worry the cops are going to nab the shipment before we can inact damage control.”

Vizzini smiled and patted the large man next to him on the knee. “Worry solves nothing. We will just have to wait and see what happens.”

Andre sighed, “I just wish I knew.”

NEXT>>

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #haddonfield #horror writing #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky

[turinn]

Naive

Ray Blackwell x M!Reader

Summary: An invitation at a party reveals that Luka had no idea you’re gay, and brings up a concern you hadn’t had before. Tags: Crack, fluff, secret relationship, mention of homophobia, alcohol consumption A/N: This is based on a dream I had where Luka and I had this exact conversation and when I woke up and remembered it I nearly threw up laughing. I did actual research for the girls outfit and hair bc im a fashion history nerd. the pocket watch i just thought was cute. Fenrir calls the reader fruity but its okay bc hes gay too god bless Word Count: 1.5k

The party was the usual affair expected of the Godspeed's, an air of elegance- present but not too overbearing- hanging over the large hall. Music drifted gently to your ears as you took everything in, a small smile settling on your face.

You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. The officers had, of course, kept their uniforms on, but everyone else present was dressed to the nines. You'd thought the suit you wore was lovely when you and Seth had seen it last week, dark blue with a white trim, paired with a pale cyan tie and pocket square. The gold watch that settled comfortably in your pocket had been a gift from Blanc, supposedly made by Oliver to look similar to his own, to commemorate your decision to stay in Cradle. Compared to everyone else, it felt rather simple now, but you pushed the thought aside. Nobody was judging what you were wearing, they were here to enjoy themselves same as you.

"Would you like a drink?" Ray asked, voice soft enough not to startle you too much. This wasn't too effective, as you'd gotten lost in your thoughts, and sort of forgotten there were people around you, but it was kind of him to try. "Oh, yes, please." You smiled at him and a moment later he'd walked off, talking to Sirius about something, leaving you alone with Luka. Fenrir had disappeared to greet his family when you'd first arrived, and Seth was who knows where, but you didn't mind it being just the two of you. Luka rarely came to these, in fact this was the first he'd been to since you'd arrived in Cradle, despite it being your fifth, and you decided someone should stick with him so he didn't feel quite as nervous.

As you turned to say something to him, you noticed a lady making her way over to the both of you, looking rather flustered. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself, but it was clear she had intent to speak to one of you. Perhaps she wanted to talk to Luka? He was cute, it wouldn't surprise you. What did surprise you, however, was when she walked up to you instead.

"Um, excuse me if this is far too forward, but... would you be interested in dancing with me?" She sounded so nervous, and you almost wanted to say yes. Any other man would have been lucky to get such an invitation- she looked stunning. She wore her hair in curls, gathered at the back of her neck, with a hairpiece of pale blue flowers was pinned at the front, a necklace donning the same type of flower hanging just above the neckline of her gown. The gown in question matched the colour of the flowers well, though the width of the crinoline supported skirt would have made you concerned about the logistics of dancing with her- if you'd had any intention of saying yes. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she chewed her bottom lip and waited for your answer, avoiding your gaze. A hand on your chest and a sincerely apologetic look on your face, you began to respond. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. You're a very attractive young lady but I'm afraid... how should I put this," You glanced at Luka for help, but he seemed to have no idea what you were trying to tell her, "I'm afraid I don't tend to set my eye on the ladies, so to speak." "You're... gay?" A sympathetic nod. "That's the ticket. Sorry, love." "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm really sorry to have bothered you!" She suddenly looked much less nervous, though a little embarrassed, and scurried off. You sighed. "I feel a little bad. I really hope she finds someone to dance with." Luka looked at you quizzically. "Why did you lie to her?" A confused laugh escaped you. "I'm sorry?" "You told her you were into guys. Why lie?" As he said this, Seth and Fenrir came up behind him, and hearing his question their eyebrows shot up. So did yours. Was he kidding? "Luka, sweetie, you have got to tell me what part of my personality made you think I was heterosexual, so I can set about changing it immediately." Seth choked on his drink, and though you flashed him a grin, you weren't entirely kidding. Going from Victorian London to a world where being gay was perfectly acceptable had been quite the change, but you'd been certain all of your friends had known. It's not like you were quiet about it, and sure, Luka was naive but... come on, now. "Wait are you... you were being honest?" "Yes?" "Luka," Fenrir began, stepping next to you and resting an elbow on your shoulder, "How have you seriously not noticed that he's gay yet?" "Well- there was no reason for me to assume!" "You watched me drunk make out with at least 2 different Black Army soldiers in my first month here!" Luka looked flustered, and utterly dumbfounded. The expression was one he wore often, usually when people insinuated that someone was in love- but somehow about five times more confused. He was unfortunate enough that Ray and Sirius returned at this moment, just in time to hear both your last remark, and his next one.

"I thought that was just something you did when you were drunk?" In another moment you were on your knees, legs shaking so much from laughter that you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. Fenrir was right there beside you, practically convulsing. Everyone else was laughing too- except poor Luka. You felt a little bad, truly you did, but this had to be the funniest thing you had ever heard. "He's completely straight, but watch out! Get a couple drinks in him and he turns fruity!" Fenrir managed to get out between cackles, and Ray was glad to have put your drinks down when Luka had last spoken, because he too nearly fell to the ground at this.

"Luka- Luka I'm sorry." You pulled yourself to your feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We aren't laughing at you." Another fit of giggles overcame you. "Okay we kind of are, but it's not malicious or anything. That was just... hands down the funniest thing you've ever said." It took most of you 5 or so minutes to fully calm down from what he'd said, and anything that jogged your memories of it would bring you back to a state of uncontrollable laughter for the rest of the night. Luka came round to it being pretty funny after you talked him through the dozens of times you'd mentioned your sexuality to him since you'd met- every one of which had gone over his head.

Hours after the party had worn down and you'd all made your way home, you lay in bed, your head pressed against a familiar chest, and sighed. "What's up?" "I just... D'you think anyone else just hasn't realised?" Ray cocked his head, confused. "I'm gonna need a little more info than that, kitten." "I suppose I just... Back in London, it's not even legal to be gay, and I don't know if it ever will be. When I first came out to Fen, he told me that it was fine here, accepted and even celebrated. So, I guess I just thought that people wouldn't make the automatic assumption that I'm straight, y'know? I mean I talk about it a lot among you guys but- when I’m out and about... where do people think my final destination is? When I pick up a silly cat themed gift for you does the shopkeep think I’m buying it for my wife? It shouldn't be a big deal, I guess, but I'd never been able to be myself until I came here, and now it's like I can be me but... people will still only see who I am if I tell them. It's just weird is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk." "You're not drunk. It's an understandable concern. I guess I've never thought about it, because whether or not people would accept that part of me has never been an issue, but the fact that you've had to hide it for so long and now that you're able to be open people still aren't seeing it must be hard. If you want we could... come out, so to speak?" Your eyebrows raised, and you moved back, propping yourself up on your arm so you could look your partner in the eyes.

It had been decided at the very start of your relationship, which had officially begun a few months after you'd made the choice to stay in Cradle, that the two of you would keep it under wraps for a while. Being from the Land of Reason was more than enough reason for people to take an unwanted interest in you, and you didn't need the extra attention being the King of Spades' partner would garner. Plus, anyone with a grudge against Ray would see you as a target the second you announced it. It had been a sensible suggestion on his part, one you hadn't hesitated to agree to, and as far as you knew only Sirius and Fenrir knew about your relationship. Fenrir because he had walked in on you sitting in Ray's lap while he worked late one night, and Sirius because- well, can anything get past that guy? And now, Ray was offering to tell the entirety of Cradle you were his, just so that you didn't feel like you were hiding your identity anymore? You could feel your eyes starting to burn, and you cursed the late hour and the alcohol in your system for making you cry so easily, but... "I don't think we need to be that drastic. You were right when you said it would keep me safe for us to not be in the public eye, at least for now. I'm sure Seth can come up with some better way for me to tell the whole world I'm gay." "I don't doubt that at all." Ray grinned, placing a gentle kiss on first your forehead, then your nose, and finally on your lips. "Tomorrow, though. You need your beauty sleep." "Ah, yeah, can't risk getting ugly. My boyfriend might not want me anymore." You quipped. "Exactly." He smirked at you, turning out the light and pulling you into his arms.

#🌙. by me #new fandom lads lets go! #i had a migraine earlier and now i cant remember how i tag fics help #ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerev x reader #ikemen revolution x reader #ikerev x mc #ikemen revolution x mc #ray blackwell #ray blackwell x reader #ray blackwell x mc #☆ ikerev #♥️; ray blackwell

[mamichigo]

Title: at the bottom (where the eyes can't see)

Pairing: Kokichi/Shuichi

Rating: G

Word count: 2,1k

Tags: Hope's Peak AU, Post Hope's Peak, Bittersweet, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Aged-up characters

Summary: "Because, one year ago, Kokichi disappeared without a trace before he could even attend the graduation ceremony."

Shuichi meets Kokichi again.

Notes: Gift for participant #32 in the @kokichigiftexchange

*

"Ouma-kun?"

It's too early in the morning to encounter anyone; the only sound at the beach is the quiet murmur of the waves. A lone person stands where the waves come to lap at their bare feet, and the person shivers in what he can only presume is freezing water. Shuichi is compelled to attribute it to a Christmas phantom, a hallucination born out of wishful thinking.

But he recognizes that messy head of hair, the diminutive stature. Kokichi Ouma looks like he hasn't changed at all, just like he stepped out of one of Shuichi's restless dreams.

His feet crunch on the sand, and it's that rather than the whispered name that alerts Kokichi to his presence. He turns with eyes narrowed, but suspicion melts into recognition when he spots Shuichi. To his surprise, that look morphs into horror almost immediately. Kokichi takes a step back and looks around.

"You don't need to run away," Shuichi hurries to reassure him. "If you don't want to talk, that's… That's okay."

It isn't. Just insinuating it is makes him nauseous. Kokichi smiles in a cynic way that tells him he's still just as good at spotting lies. But, right now, as long as he can make Kokichi stay, Shuichi will tell as many white lies as necessary.

Because, one year ago, Kokichi disappeared without a trace before he could even attend the graduation ceremony.

"It's been awhile," Shuichi whispered.

Kokichi's shoulders hunch. Shuichi is sure that if he could, Kokichi would be putting up a physical barrier between the two of them. In the absence of that, he keeps his body language closed off, not even bothering to fully face Shuichi.

"It would've been much longer if I had my way," Kokichi snaps back. There's none of the joking, childish tone that used to always be in his voice.

"Your plan was to never see any of us again, wasn't it?" Shuichi muses to himself. He watches Kokichi's tense form. "Then, why are you here?"

Kokichi scoffs. "It's a big city, as if I ever planned to just accidentally bump into you. Or anyone, for that matter."

"No, but why would you still be in the city at all? It's not what you'd do, if you wanted to disappear."

Kokichi raises his eyebrows at him in challenge. Shuichi tries to tell himself he isn't trembling as well.

"I'd know. I looked for you."

Kokichi's eyes widen, and just for a moment, there's a crack in his mask. He bites at his bottom lip and a pained twitch appears at the corners of his eyes. Kokichi turns his head down and away, staring at something. Shuichi only now realizes Kokichi is clutching something in his hands.

"I wouldn't expect any less from the Ultimate Detective! Ah, you must be an active detective now, so I'm sure you have all kinds of resources at your disposal now. It wouldn't be hard to look for little ol' me, right?" Kokichi swirls to look at him. The smile on his face looks like it hurts his cheeks. "That's what it means to be an Ultimate, right?"

Shuichi shifts his weight, and realizes he has nothing to say to that. Kokichi was right. It was frighteningly easy to look into Kokichi's whereabouts, and even more terrifying to realize even then he couldn't find his missing ex-classmate.

Everywhere he goes, he sees his other classmates, even the ones he is no longer in contact with. On TV, billboards, online forums, on the news. Every single one of them, except Kokichi.

"What have you been up to all this time?" Shuichi asks, like he has done so many times to the silent copy of Kokichi that appears to him whenever he closes his eyes.

"This," Kokichi deadpans. "But that's not really the question you want to ask, is it, Saihara-chan?"

Shuichi looks to Kokichi's shoes, lying on the sand. To his clenched toes, dipped in water. To his fingers, almost purple at the tips where they clutch some mysterious box. Finally, he looks into Kokichi's eyes, and finds nothing but guarded apathy. Shuichi has gotten no better at reading Kokichi than he used to be when they were both attending Hope's Peak.

"What question do you think I want to ask?"

"Oh, please." Kokichi rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "I'm not in the mood for the charades."

"That used to be all you were in the mood for."

"But we're not at Hope's Peak anymore, are we?"

Shuichi opens and closes his mouth a few times, but can't settle on an answer. Shuichi swallows.

"But you're still you."

"Don't act like you know me."

"Ouma-kun…"

Shuichi tries to touch his arm, if only for the comfort of knowing this Kokichi is not an illusion, but Kokichi knocks his hand away before he can get close enough to do it. Kokichi pins him with an angry look.

"Is it just me, or have you gotten bolder, Saihara-chan? Assertive, even!" Every word drips with sarcasm. "My sincere congratulations!"

Shuichi presses his lips into a straight line. He looks away for a moment, and is reminded of how cold it truly is when a gust of wind makes goosebumps raise on his flesh. Shuichi watches Kokichi's still trembling figure.

"What are you doing here, Ouma-kun?" Shuichi asks again, dread at the back of his throat.

Kokichi hums in thought. He kicks at the water half-heartedly and winces when droplets of it fall on himself. He shakes the box in his hand, and it rattles.

"To dispose of useless things," Kokichi says.

"On a Christmas morning, in the middle of Winter?"

"What can I say, it's a little symbolic this way."

"What's inside the box?"

They look at each other for a moment that's a few eternities too long. Slowly, slowly, a smile tugs at Kokichi's lips. It's small and secretive; it's the same smile Kokichi had given him the last time they talked, framed by pouring rain and dark clouds. Shuichi's breath catches in his throat.

"Nothing worth remembering."

Perhaps it's the shock of the sudden memory that makes him stand there and watch as Kokichi raises his hands above his head and throws the box into the ocean. Kokichi turns like he means to leave, and the box falls into the water with a wet plop. Shuichi looks from one to the other, and chases after the sinking box.

He manages to see Kokichi whip his head back to look at him, but he doesn't have the time to think about that.

"Saihara-chan!" Kokichi yells when his body hits the water.

Shuichi takes a deep breath and dives. The freezing cold shocks him into almost inhaling the water, but Shuichi slaps a hand to his mouth and swallows the urge to gasp for breath. The seawater stings at his open eyes, but he has enough visibility to see the dark polish of the wooden box. Shuichi grabs for it and resurfaces with a gasp.

He doesn't get out of the water immediately, floating there and breathing with his eyes closed. His fingers are slippery, but he cradles the box to his chest and doesn't let go.

"Saihara-chan!" Kokichi yells again. 

Shuichi raises his head slowly. Numbly, he waves to Kokichi. It takes some effort to drag himself out the water with his clothes weighing him down, but Shuichi manages to get back to shore. 

Shuichi never imagined he'd spend his morning diving into the ocean, with a fuming Kokichi glaring at him. He almost laughs. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Kokichi hisses. He gets into Shuichi's personal space, raised to the tip of his toes to grab Shuichi by the lapels of his coat. The seawater in his hair drips onto Kokichi's cheeks. "I know you can be stupid, but this is a new low!"

Shuichi nods numbly. "A-At least…" His teeth chatter. "At least I got it. The box."

Kokichi stares incredulously at the wooden box. Shuichi can nearly see it when the thread that holds him together snaps.

"You think I care?! I was here to throw that away, you idiot! This was supposed to be the last of— Of all this!" Kokichi shook him roughly.

"Wait, Ouma-kun, that hurts—"

"That stupid school, this city, this useless thing they called a talent. I'm getting rid of all of it."

Kokichi continues his barrage, and Shuichi has to step back when Kokichi gets too close. In the frenzy, they end up tangled in each other's feet, and they both fall painfully. Shuichi winces, but Kokichi isn't deterred. If anything, he looks all the more furious.

"You can't stop me from doing it, Saihara-chan," Kokichi says in a fervent whisper.

"You were trying to say goodbye," Shuichi realizes.

For a tense moment, neither of them speak. Kokichi is still furious above him, expression twisted. Shuichi has a feeling that, if he was capable of doing it sincerely, Kokichi would be crying. Shuichi wants to hug him.

He chuckles quietly.

"What are you laughing about?"

"That's the first time you've ever been this sincere with me," Shuichi says with a smile he knows is too soft.

Kokichi sighs exasperatedly and hangs his head. He ends up with his forehead to Shuichi's collarbone. He's still clutching Shuichi's coat tightly.

"I hate you," Kokichi says.

"I missed you," Shuichi answers.

He dares lay a hand on Kokichi's head, and though he flinches, he doesn't say anything about it. Shuichi runs his fingers from his scalp to the tip of his hair. He gently plays with the tips like he so starkly remembers Kokichi doing whenever he was focused on whatever thoughts were on his mind. Shuichi can see it, in his mind's eyes: Kokichi sitting on the table, legs crossed, grinning as he lies through his teeth about one thing or another.

He doesn't have the time to dwell on the memory, as Kokichi grows antsy in the prolonged contact. He pushes himself away and sits on the sand next to Shuichi. He's still within arm's reach, Shuichi notes as he sits up as well.

Kokichi forces him to remove his outer layer and offers his own coat in exchange.

"Thank you."

"Whatever."

Kokichi rests his cheek on his knee and doesn't bother looking at Shuichi again. Shuichi frowns, just a little bit, but concedes that at least Kokichi has yet to leave.

"Why did you disappear?" Shuichi asks.

"There it is, the million dollar question," Kokichi deadpans with a huff. He draws on the sand with his finger, and Shuichi can see he's pouting too. "Does it really matter?"

"I spent the last year searching for any clues of what might have happened to you." Shuichi allows for just a hint of steel to appear in his voice. "It matters."

Kokichi pauses for a moment. Then, he's right back to doodling. Shuichi can identify what looks like the hat he used to wear.

"There's only so much time you can spend on a farce. Every game has an ending. That's part of the fun too. You could say I got bored."

Shuichi observes him. He wonders if taking Kokichi's coat was a good idea, as he's shaking now more than ever. What he can see of his face is pale, with the exception of the underside of his eyes. He looks shockingly smaller. Shuichi realizes it's because his personality is so muted, a stark difference to how he presented himself so loudly before, impossible to ignore.

"Rather than bored, you just sound tired," Shuichi gently says.

"Thanks, Mr. Detective."

There is more to it than Kokichi is saying, but this is already more personal information than Kokichi would ever reveal about himself. They have time, enough for Shuichi to prod at his motivation, to peel the layers of what happened to Kokichi. He can only hope that's true.

"What are you going to do now?" 

"Same thing I've been doing. Which is to say, nothing." Kokichi seems to remember something. He shifts a little to point at the box Shuichi is holding. "Ah, you can keep that. You went through the trouble of throwing yourself into the ocean for it, so you win."

"I didn't know we were playing," Shuichi jokes.

"Aren't we always."

Carefully, Shuichi undoes the clasp that holds the lid closed. Inside the box, they are a number of little trinkets that he doesn't recognize, and a few he does. He sees a star pin he had won for Kokichi in a festival.

At the bottom of it all, there are a couple of pictures. The one at the top had his own face smiling up at him, with a laughing Kokichi clinging to him by the neck, half raised off the floor.

Shuichi turns a fond smile at Kokichi, but he's still resolutely avoiding eye contact. Shuichi keeps that secret to himself, and reaches for his friend's hand instead. Just a touch of his pinky to Kokichi's. Kokichi twitches, but his hand stays right where it is. 

"I'm glad I didn't let you throw it away."

#kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #saiouma #oumasai #danganronpa #ndrv3 #my writing