#i was hyper fit before i knew i had this and i just got mild symptoms

[crystalelemental]

And that wraps up that one. There's a short chapter 7 after this, but the Carmine/Nemona fic is done, just before the DLC. Now we can go into next weekend prepared for a good time. I'll have a little bit of commentary under the cut for the entirety of the fic.

So, this chapter was the toughest one for me, because reading through I'm like yeah, this flows, it's not too long or too short, just gets things done. But then I get really, really twitchy about wanting to write out their entire battle to show how they learned a bit about the other, but every time I tried, the whole piece just started to feel like it was dragging entirely because I didn't have that much to break up the action this time that didn't feel repetitive, and I couldn't deal. So it's truncated to a shorter fight, but I think it's for the best, even if it drives me slightly crazy.

Okay, fun facts! Back in Chapter 3, I added a bit about Carmine feeling like nothing was going to work out and wanting to give Nemona a proper battle. That wasn't initially there. It was much more just...failing to catch things on both ends hijinks, but I wanted a bit more emotional weight to it, so that piece got added.

I went with Nemona getting a Gurdurr for two reasons. One is as Carmine identifies; relaxing the feeling of needing the ideal for something you like. The other is because I legitimately think Nemona's connecting piece of her team is goofballs. Like come on, Dudunspace, Goodra, Orthworm? Nemona loves goober-looking Pokemon, so Gurdurr/Conkeldurr fits right in. Carmine gets Phantump for the stated reasons. There wasn't much special about it, it just felt like it fit.

I've gotten a good bit of positive feedback from comments regarding the dynamics and personalities of the two. I do hope they read well together through to the end. I like the idea of their dynamic, with Carmine being her snarky, sarcastic, sometimes caustic self, and Nemona just not picking up any of it, and responding with complete sincerity, which disarms Carmine. I like to think Nemona's the strict rule follower who can bring Carmine along on what she's supposed to do, while Carmine has just enough knowledge of Nemona to push her a bit toward some mild rulebreaking. Moreover, I just liked the idea of this chapter's reveal that Nemona knew about Carmine's feelings for a while. She's not completely oblivious, she just takes things at face value, and Carmine has made multiple comments about being pretty and getting snuggly with Nemona, even if it wasn't meant as fully sincere. So I think it checks out that Nemona would interpret that as legitimate feeling, and respond accordingly.

If there's anything I kinda regret not doing more of, it's bringing in Ms. Tyme. I liked Ms. Tyme, bullshit Pokeball question aside, and I think her being the hyper-strict teacher to Nemona's rule-follower nature and Carmine's more rebellious attitude had a lot of potential. That unfortunately I didn't have the patience for. My initial design involved an entirely different activity, focused on them traveling around with Tyme to get more of that dynamic with the teacher. But a few issues arose. (1) This required more creativity in developing a plotline than I was willing to do on short notice. I wanted this done by DLC time and couldn't generate good ideas. (2) Any interactions between these three naturally cut into time developing the main duo, which goes against the point of the story. And (3) Focusing on the signs wound up being a really simple lead-in to Carmine's general frustrations with the village, and setting up Nemona as someone who takes her seriously. It's retreading ground, but it fit nicely for the story I aimed to tell.

I don't have anything else too interesting to say. But at some point, I may revisit the pairing. Or just write their dynamic with Tyme, I really feel like there's potential. But for now, I hope you've enjoyed the updates, and thank you for reading along.

#crystals fanfics #pokemon #carmine #nemona

[stardustincarnate]

EARLY TRYST // Light Yagami x Reader

word count : 4534 genre : fluff <333 ! crack-ish, pre-kira!light, all that  mushy mushy stuff, best friends to lovers because who doesn’t love that trope?

a/n : i’m not sure if i’ve posted this here before but i’m fairly certain that i haven’t oh godric you’ll have to forgive me if i had  --

Who wakes up 5:00 early on a Saturday morning just to bug their neighbor to have a match with them?

Technically, you did. You were bored, and the first thing that came to your mind was playing your favorite sport with one of your bestfriends, who's also your neighbor, Light. Surely he wouldn't mind, would he? But it mattered not since he also did the same to you back then, insisting you two bike together just because he wanted a companion and knew you wouldn't refuse. You were hella pissed even so, and now it's your turn to get revenge.

You brought a ladder, placing it just enough to reach the window to his bedroom on the second floor. You eventually climbed up, practically pressing your face against  the window to get a clearer sight of him sleeping peacefully on his bed, his angelic face barely visible as it was partially covered with his blanket.

'Say goodbye to your sweet dreams, lover boy.'

You thought and knocked on the window loud enough for him to hear. Your first tries were futile so you knocked a little louder and more violent. To his dismay, Light woke up with a teeny-bit of panic in his chest. Creasing his eyebrow and squinting his eyes, he looked at the window, seeing a familiar figure. You snickered as he awakened, languidly making his way to the window, an irritated look on his face when he met your eyes.

He opened the window. "[Y/N], what the hell are you doing here? What time is it?"

"About time for you to play with me."

"Huh? Play with you? You're acting strangely childish. I was still sleeping." He clicked his tongue. You chuckled and shook your head. "Aw, sleeping beauty is upset because his dream was left unfinished. Don't worry, his dashing savior is here to make him feel better."

"You mean worse."

"Bad!" You playfully punched his shoulder. "Says the one who still has sleep in his eyes."

"Of course I have. You just woke me up." He scowled, turning his back at you and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his face a little flushed.

"Heh, don't be shy!" You teased, wobbling a little in your position.

"I'm not shy! Tch, seriously though, you're in a ladder? You only made it harder for yourself when you could've just knocked on the main door. Mom and dad are already awake. They'd let you in."

"Eh? But I was shy- you know- err, how am I supposed to say 'Can I go to Light's room or something?'" You blushed a little. He hummed in response and gave an understanding look. "Come on in."

"I can't fit in here- just meet me outside. I'll wait for ya."

"You got yourself in this so don't turn back now. You can fit but in another position." Before you could reply, he suddenly grabbed your arms and indicated you to push your head inside. You did, whimpering as he pulled you in by grabbing you by the armpits, your faces almost bumping in the process. You gave a squeal as you felt your feet of the ladder, causing you to grip him tighter, almost hugging him-or maybe even inhaling him.

For a better description you basically looked like a flying fish from outside who's getting devoured by a portal.

With all his might, Light pulled you in until your whole body finally got inside. Of course, as he was secretly anticipating to, you both fell on the ground, with you on top of him, your head against his chest.

You immediately stood up and accidentally stepped on his ankle, resulting a loud whimper from him.

"Oof."

"That hurt, you know."

"Sorry. But-" You both heard a loud crash from outside. You were certain that the ladder you used had fallen, and it was so loud you swore some of your neighbors woke up. "...As I was saying... That was a dangerous way to get me inside. I could've fallen."

"Too bad you didn't."

"How rude!" You scoffed. You jauntily walked towards his bed, flopping down as if it's your own. It felt so soft, and it kinda smelled like him too.

You closed your eyes and spread your arms. His expression softened that he couldn't hide a smile which you thankfully didn't see. He cleared his throat and picked up a pillow, throwing it at your face.

"Hey, I'll go get some coffee. Want some?"

"I've already drank one, but sure!"

"No wonder you're already so hyper. Now get out of my bed."

"Fine." You scoffed and got up, walking behind him on the way downstairs, making yourself smaller so they wouldn't notice.

"Light! You're up early." Sachiko greeted.

"Yeah, and it's her fault." He slid right to reveal your cowering figure. You shyly greeted his mother, flushing pink. "Oh hello [Y/N]! I didn't see you come in. Were you in Light's room the whole night? You two had a sleep-over..?"

"No mom. Why would we do that? She just has her own ways of disturbing my sleep. Is dad still here?"

"He's on the living room and just about to leave. I'll make you two breakfast."

"That's not necessary. We just need some coffee, after that we'll.. What are we gonna do again?"

"Play badminton outside."

"It's still a bit dark, don't you think?"

"It's alright. The sun is about to rise. It'll rise quickly." Light replied to his mom, taking two cups and then pouring hot water on them. "Mild coffee [Y/N]?"

"Nope. Black coffee will do."

"Didn't you already-"

"It was creamy white. It was bland for my liking. I need something stronger." You cheekily replied. He sighed and started mixing your coffee and then his own. "If I recall, yesterday I saw you walking home while drinking that black iced coffee from the convenience store. Too much caffeine is unhealthy."

"Yes, Sir Light, noted." You grinned, blowing your drink before taking a sip. "Hey, not funny. I'm genuinely concerned."

"Concern appreciated."

You both entered the living room, greeting his father who eventually got up, off to work. You sat beside Light as you both watched Sachiko kiss Soichiro goodbye. You smiled and mumbled an 'aw,' nudging Light and causing him to slightly spill the coffee he was about to drink.

"What?" He looked at you then to his parents.

"Nothing."

"Ah, I get it. You wanna do that with someone someday, don't you?"

"That's not-"

"It's okay. We all daydream like that, even me. So don't be shy."

"I'm not shy!"

"There goes my line."

"Hmp. So who's the lucky girl, or boy, you daydream about?"

"Why are you suddenly interested? Well what about you?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Unfair. You're so secretive."

"Fair enough since you're just as secretive as I am. You don't even tell me the guys you like, and I'm your bestfriend."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Why do you keep on stealing my lines?"

"Oi that's not the point! I mean come on, an honor student like you rarely talks about romance so when you do, of course I must know. I am your best friend after all."

Light cringed, chuckling. "There's nothing special about that."

"Pfft. Honor students like you are so busy with studying that you rarely have time for romance."

"What? No. Look at you, you're an honor student yourself."

"Yeah but I mean the pros, like you. The valedictorians, first honors."

"Just because I don't that about romance doesn't mean I don't think about it. But like you said, I rarely think about it."

"Ooh! So who is the lucky one?"

"Why do you want to know?"

You puffed your cheeks. Honestly you had no idea too. Let's just say you were... curious.

"I need to gather information. I need some information to sip. Either way I'll figure it out when I start my investigation."

"No."

"Augh- I'll disown you, Light Yagami."

He put his cup down, looking at you.

"It's not really possible to disown the person you like, you know."

The coffee that you were drinking almost came out of your nostrils.

"Don't have so much hubris on yourself. I can do a ten-paged essay about why you are so dislikeable."

"But you can do an essay about why you like me ten times longer than that."

"I am so going to hit your ugly being!"

His smile only grew wider, fascination twinkling in his eyes.

"Hit me with your sweet love, maybe I won't mind."

Not blushing wasn't really an option. He burst out of laughter as you'd been left speechless. You continuously punched his arm, but he never stopped laughing. And his laughter was indeed infectious.

As you two were having fun, you suddenly felt eyes on your back. You stopped and turned around, seeing Light's mother slyly smiling at the both of you as she slithered away towards the kitchen. You and Light avoided each other's gaze for a moment and blushed, finishing your coffees wordlessly instead.

"Well, I'll go change now. You wait here."

"Let me come with you-"

Light raised an eyebrow. "What a pervert you are, [Y/N]."

"NO! That is not what I meant!"

"Well what did you mean?"

"I mean, let me wait outside your room instead," You leaned in, whispering. "What if your mom comes here and talks to me? I mean.. I'm super shy around her."

He nodded in agreement but then he added, "There's no need to be shy around your future mother though."

'This smooth-talking bastard!' You sighed and rubbed your nape, 50% about to roll your eyes and 50% about to blush again. You knew what he meant by that. He had always been a tease to you. But you decided to play against his will.

"Wow. I didn't know that the Yagami family will adopt me someday."

"Tch, dummy."

"Did you just call me dummy?"

"What? Of course not! You really need to clean your ears. I said dumplings. Your cheeks remind me of them. And now I'm hungry."

"You are awful!" For the nth time in history, you hit his arm. "I'm really gonna disown you in one of these days. Now get your ass moving already so we can conquer the street first."

"Well you were the one constantly blabbering and delaying things here-"

"Beca-"

"Shut up."

"Pft. Fine." He pulled you up, holding your wrist even on the way back to his bedroom.

After about five minutes of changing to a plain white t-shirt and jogging pants, matching yours by the way, you two headed out the neighborhood. You picked up the rackets and shuttlecock you had left on the ground, handing him one.

"We don't really have a net-"

"Oh come on! This is just a friendly match, so there's no need for that."

"What about the scores? We can play somehow else if you'd like."

"That's not necessary. I'm making the rules, and the only rule here is that the opponent gets the score if you fail to prevent the birdie from hitting the ground."

"That's not how you play badminton.."

"I am well aware of that. I used to be a part of the school's badminton team, hello? But I make my own rules here." You grinned slyly. He shook his head. "There's no fun in this. You just woke me up to make me do some pointless things with you."

You were actually a little offended by that. You puffed your cheeks and crossed your arms.

"Is it bad that I just wanna have some quality-time with my friend? And to get my revenge, too."

What you said made his heart leap a little, and he was having a hard time resisting the urge to smile. But in the end, he only snarled against his own will. "Let's get this done quick. I'll make sure to destroy you."

"Oh, you wish."

And the game started. The eerie silence vanished, replaced by your grunts, pants, and intense movements. The sky was eventually transitioning from a dim purple to a pale yellow one as you two played, eyes focused on nothing but the shuttle, sweat dripping down your bodies. Light was just as determined as you were to beat his ass. The scores were being mentally recorded by you two-no cheating of course. It was a pretty fair game. One moment you'd be on the lead, but he'd take it, and you'd take it back, and the cycle continued. He was the worthiest opponent for you in this, and he thought the same about you.

The deal was a maximum of 50 scores. Currently, Light was leading and almost close to winning. Certainly you didn't want to get beaten so you struck the shuttle at a perfect angle with just enough force. It flew fast; you were sure he'd miss it. But his reflex was quick, and he struck it with a force much stronger than yours-but his flawed angle sent the shuttle flying higher than he intended it to, and it unfortunately landed on one of your neighbor's roof.

That neighbor just so happened to be the one you two-no, the whole neighborhood-absolutely detested.

Light rubbed his nape and laughed nervously, seeing your grimace. "I'll give the score to you then. So, you have an extra shuttle?"

"Unfortunately that's my last one." You facepalmed. You used to have lots of shuttlecocks but you just kept on losing them since everytime you play with someone, they'd either get destroyed in the process or fly too high and land on unaccessible places, just like what happened.

He frowned. "Seriously? What about inside your house? I'm sure there are a bunch of them tangled in your mess."

"I told you that was my last one. I haven't been able to buy more of them so yeah. But thanks to this nerdy friend of mine, I'm now left with none."

You were only being sarcastic, but it sounded way too derisive for him that he felt somehow guilty.

"Now what do we do.." You pouted to yourself. He averted his gaze which then met the ladder from earlier, a brilliant idea crossing his mind. But the last thing he wanted to do was to get involved, in any way, with that awful neighbor. A grim expression crossed his face and you saw it as you walked closer to him.

"Hey, I'm not actually mad at you, dummy."

"No- I mean, that's a relief. But I think I can retrieve it with the ladder. They might notice me though."

You snorted, but at least there was still a way to save that shuttle. You then looked at the sky. The sun was now rawly smiling at you. Surely those rogues weren't awake yet.

"You know what? I'll do it myself."

"Don't. You might fall. I'll go do it. It's a gentleman's job after all." He grinned. "Do you think they're awake?"

"I don't think so. The curtains are closed anyway."

"Alright. In case I fall, you stay below."

"Okay, Princess Light. I'll catch you using these strong manly arms of mine. Muah!"

"Ew."

Thankfully they didn't have a second floor so the ladder's height was alright- although still short. Once Light had climbed up, you stayed below, holding the ladder just to stay sure.

"Damn. How did it get that far?" He struggled to reach it with his racket, even with his arms and body stretched already. After a few valiant attempts, he sighed and steadied himself a little. He had an idea of climbing the roof but the risk of falling down in the process was high. And he certainly didn't want to squash you either.

"Well this is hopeless."

"Don't give up now, my princess!" You continuously poked his butt with the handle of your racket, causing him to give you a death glare, wobbling a little in his position.

"Are you asking to get squashed? Stop that or I'll fall on you."

"That was just to power you up, silly! Don't you dare fall on me."

"How about falling for you?"

"Bitch."

"Now now, don't say bad words!"

He chuckled and was about to continue his mission when suddenly, the curtains flew open, revealing a grotesque face of a woman staring at Light's crotch-because that's where the window was apparently placed.

Let's just say that you two never want to recall that twenty-minute rebuking that you swore went on even as you two had already left the neighborhood, heading elsewhere.

"That went well." Light heaved a sigh, poking your racket with his as you two walked side by side. You nodded.

"Mission failed. Geez, that woman just wouldn't stop talking and bombarding us with malarkey. I'm starting to hate her."

"To be honest who doesn't? The whole neighborhood hates her as far as I know."

"Pfft, right. So what do we do now?"

He poked your cheeks, and poked, and poked, before pinching them so hard.

"Stop your fetish for my cheeks! This is abuse!"

He laughed, a genuine kind. He didn't reply but put an arm over your shoulder. You puffed your cheeks and played along.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm a bit hungry. So let's head to the convenience store."

"Unsurprising but I didn't bring any money with me."

"Not a single cent?"

"Noooope."

"I guess it's fine since I'll be the one treating you. You should be thankful." You only smiled.

On the way to the store you noticed a group of older and drunk men resting on the side of the street. Their eyes pierced uncomfortably through you. You lowered your head, still feeling their laviscious stares nonetheless. Light also noticed this, and so he pressed himself to you. You hadn't even passed them and when you did, the inevitable came. They cackled, whistling and calling you by names as they rapped the table for attention.

You ignored them and thankfully, they didn't bother you more. "Those bastards." You heard your companion clicking his tongue in annoyance, looking back at the drunk men. He saw where their gazes were and it strongly disgusted him. There was an unnerving silence as you two arrived at the store.

You both had hotdogs with buns and ice cream which was your specific request and which Light reluctantly complied to. The two of you were sitting side by side, looking through the glass wall and discussing mostly about school projects and then some gossips which all came from you. After running out of food to munch on, Light went back to buy a huge bag of chips you two would be sharing.

The sky was now a saturated mixture of orange and yellows. People strolling outside were quickly multiplying until eventually the sidewalk got packed. Few vehicles came passing by. The day was starting for a lot.

"Those guys often do that to you?"

Snapping back to reality, you cooed, "Pardon me?"

"The drunk men we just came across with, was it the first time they've called you out like that?"

"Nope. They're always out drinking.." You saw him creasing his brows. "I know what you're thinking. Well they can't be help so don't think too much about it."

"Can't be help or not, that's still wrong. Did you see the way they looked at your curves? Those men reek danger for a young woman like you. Who knows what their next moves are?" Clenching his fist, he growled. He was truly worried for you. He knew how the world is full of suspicious people like them, and who knows that they're capable of doing?

"Now now worry-wart, don't be so angry."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? You should really start walking home with me early. Does it kill you to immediately go home after school even when you have no business there anymore?"

He got you there. "But I don't want to instantly go home."

"Keep thinking like that and you might never be able to go home again."

You pursed your lips at how scary he made that sound. "Listen, [Y/N]. In this world, there are only a few people you can actually trust. And those guys? They're not looking worthy of someone's trust, even one bit. They're also not the only possible threats to you. Anyone you don't know, or even who you're acquainted with, could be. Even if they look so charming. I'm saying this as a warning, and as your friend. The way they looked at you really triggered me. I can't let you continue your routine anymore. Sure, I know you're going to argue that there's lots of bystanders in case something happens, but that's not always the case. And we're not even sure if they'll help you or proceed to give a blind eye to it."

There came a long pause as you absorbed his words. Hearing them made you feel grateful for having a friend like him-someone who speaks up because he cares about you and your safety. You merely nodded with your mouth agape.

"..I-I'll do as you say then. Thank you Light, really. I appreciate your concern. You give the best advices.. I-you're one of the best people out there."

"Sorry to suddenly explode like that." He smiled, and your heart softened. You asked, "And so, by saying that.. You trust me?"

"Needless to ask dummy. I wouldn't have said that if I didn't."

"Thank you. You know I trust you too. You're one of the people who's worth my trust." You flushed pink as you scratched your nape. This kind of conversation will always make you shy.

"You don't have to say thank you to me for trusting you. And what you said.. You're worth trusting, too."

You didn't argue. The following minutes were silent as you two stared at the void while eating potato chips. You didn't have any new topics in mind, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts-or his daydreams. You didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on in that complex mind of his.

You absently stood up, craving for another black coffee, but you halted and went back when you remembered you didn't have your own money.

"Oh? You want something?"

"I want coffee. Well- if you don't mind. Ehehehe."

"That I am not going to buy for you. That's going to be your third coffee and the day's only starting."

"Hmph. Forgot I have a mom for a friend. But anyway, you good? You seemed to be thinking about something rather serious earlier."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled. Although he was really deep in thought of something-but what was it?

As he'd already said, he trusted you. He had been friends with you since middle school. He developed the ability to read through your mind. With you both growing closer day by day, he had already memorized your hobbies, your predictably unpredictable schedules, your common moods, your personality, and your flaws as a human being. Heck, he could even write an entire biography book about you with all the facts 99% accurate if he wanted to.

To him, you were fascinating, despite the fact that you weren't his ‘ideal’ girl. But as they say, some ideals are bound to get broken when something unexpected and much more interesting comes along the way. Sure, you couldn't read his mind as good as he read yours. You couldn't decipher and foresee what his next moves would be very well, wasn't in the exact same level as he was, but he grew attached to you. He trusted you, which was a rare thing for him to do-and consider the fact that trust is a hard thing to earn. You were an honest person, mildly annoying at some point to him. You're one that's willing to help others too. Rarely gets the initiative, but when you do, you execute amazing plans and actions.

The world is ugly, indeed, but he considered you to be one of those who made it less that way. You were one of the beautiful people in this ugly, mundane world. And that, he admired you for.

He couldn't see you as just a friend anymore. He could basically see through you, like you were his other half-like you were meant to be. You were someone he could connect with, someone he trusts, someone he could love. The label 'bestfriends' bothered him because he felt like it didn't suit you both, because something else did.

A couple.

And going back, what he was thinking about was the act of courting you and becoming your boyfriend. But doubts flooded his mind, such as you two being too young for romance, the possibility of your parents being against it since he knew you once swore that you wouldn't get a boyfriend until the age of 25 (which was actually a half-joke), and him not knowing what to properly do afterwards. Was he ready for this? Having you as his girlfriend wouldn't really change or affect anything such as his studies. It would still be the same.. just with an upgraded relationship and label with you. Besides, he had been wanting to court you for some time already. And if he doesn't do it then he'd only grow more and more restless.

He wanted to be yours. He was sure you also reciprocated his feelings. Getting into a teenage relationship is easy and quick and maybe reckless, they say, but not for someone with a complex and rational thinking like him. There were some things to consider- but you know what Light said?

'God damn it.'

"Love."

"Huh?" You weren't expecting that response at all.

"I mean I was thinking about romance."

"Ooh! Finally, you decided to add some teenage thrill in your life. So, what about romance?" You gave a sly look. "Need help? I can be cupid, except I will be hitting you with my fist."

His smile was little but genuine, looking out. "There's someone I like for some time now. I've been wanting to court her."

"Awe! My boy has finally grown! My son is finally having a love interest! Eh, but why do you look so uncertain? Is there a catch?"

"Not really." He looked at you, his cheek resting on his palm. You raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case then go for it! Who would dare to refuse the Light Yagami anyway? If you're feeling doubtful, which is highly unlikely for you, don't be. Any girl would swoon over you, even myself." You chuckled. He gave a fake impression of still being doubtful, looking down with his hands now on his thighs. It was a rare sight to see. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tapping it. Just then, he looked at you straight in the eye.

"It's not like you to lose some confidence. Come on, don't be sad. You can do it. Go ahead and court the lucky one. Cupid approves." You gave him a thumbs up.

"..If you say so," he seized your wrist and stood up.

"Can I court you then?"

#death note #death note x reader #death note x you #light x reader #light yagami x reader #death note fluff #light yagami #light yagami fluff #death note imagines #yagami light #best friends to lovers trope supremacy #light x you #death note x y/n #i'm sorry i haven't played an actual badminton match in ages so you might cringe huhufdfds #character x you #kiss kiss fall iN LOVEEEE #bye #i poured my heartand soul into writngin thsi sjfhjd

[shadow-assassin-blix]

If I Can’t Have You

Will Miller x Reader/You

Song fic. Continuing the Shawn Mendes theme. Benny and Santi will come out this week hopefully. Uhh. This went a slightly different direction than what I had planned... Oh well. The song...sorta fits. It’s been an odd day writing this. Mentions of creepy stalkery dude. Shitty ex fiancé and terrible family. Mentions of nightmares/night terrors, nothing detailed just mentioned

Taglist: @mikeisthricedeceased​ (Let me know if ya wanna be tagged)

I'm in Toronto and I got this view

But I might as well be in a hotel room, yeah

Will Miller kept himself to a pretty precise schedule. He was not one to deviate from it. Numbers brought him comfort. The guys liked to tease him about it, but they also knew it was coping mechanism that Will developed while they were enlisted. It was an odd habit, true, but numbers were something he could always rely on.

Currently, it was 7:00pm on a Friday night, and he was at his usual bar, having his usual drink. He wasn’t usually one to stick around for more than one drink. But this night, something changed. He noticed you, when you took a seat near him. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to the women who walk in, but something in your demeanor caught his eye.

He noticed your hands were shaky and you were glancing over your shoulder a lot.

His gaze slowly drifted toward where you were looking and he noticed a guy outside, looking around.

“Are you okay?” He quietly asked, trying not to startle you.

You glanced at him, slightly jumping, and whispered, “That guy has been following me for 10 minutes.”

He frowned at that, and slowly moved to the seat next to her. “Pretend you know me, or that we’re dating. I’ll wait with you until he’s gone. The name’s Will by the way.”

You tell him your name and felt strangely safe next to this stranger. Maybe it was the way that he spoke, his voice slightly gravelly. Or maybe it was the way that he positioned himself to hide you and keep you out of sight of the door.

He sat with you for well over an hour, just talking. He even walked you back to your car, which was a good 10 blocks over.

“You walked this far from your car to get away from that guy?” He asked concerned.

“Kinda. I was about 3 blocks away from it when I noticed him, and I diverted my path. Didn’t think I would get stalked, would’ve worn better shoes,” You lightly joked looking down at your high heels.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” He apologized as they stopped next to your car.

“Umm. I hope this isn’t inappropriate but uhh… can I get your number? Ya know… in case I need protection again?” You shyly asked with a small smile.

Will chuckled and nodded his head. They exchanged numbers and parted ways.

It doesn't matter 'cause I'm so consumed

Spending all my nights reading texts from you

It’s been well over 2 months since that time, and the two of you have texted each a lot. Flirting has been heavy, and you even had a couple of dates together. Will felt extremely content and he felt happy. His brother, who noticed just how much happier Will has been acting and has been trying to get Will to spill the beans for weeks. Benny even got Frankie and Santi in on the investigation.

Will was able to hold them off for a time. That is… until one night. You had gone a date and wound up back at his place for some… extracurricular activities. It was about 2am and the both of you were passed out when you heard a phone ringing.

You reached out blindly, to answer it, thinking it was your phone.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse from earlier.

“Umm. Hello sexy voice, where’s Will?” Came a teasing voice.

Your eyes widen in mild horror as you jerked the phone away to look at the caller ID: Pope.

But the horror washed away as you noticed the time.

“Pope? Is this a life-or-death situation?” You calmly asked once your put the phone back to your ear.

“Uhh. No?” He answered hesitantly.

“Then call back at normal hours,” You told him hanging up.

When you told Will about it in the morning he laughed. Especially when the guys asked about Sexy Voice and when they were going to meet you. He shook his head at them and told he’d introduced you when he was ready to.

I'm so sorry that my timing's off

But I can't move on if we're still gonna talk

It happened slowly. You’ve been together now almost 7 months. Will wasn’t talking to you as much. He honestly sounded exhausted every time you spoke. When you did see him, you could tell he hadn’t slept much. You tried to subtly ask what was wrong and he would simply wave it off.

Will wouldn’t admit it, but he was having nightmares. Nightmares about his tours. Nightmares about you. About not being to save you. He knew his nightmares often led to night terrors and he didn’t want you to see that. He didn’t want to risk hurting you fighting off invisible demons.

This led to arguments… over everything. One day, he went to go for a run to cool down after yet another argument. You looked at his phone, biting your lip. You had yet to meet his brother or his friends, but you needed to understand what was going on.

You looked for Benny in his contacts and gave him a call on your phone.

“Hi… is this… is this Benny Miller?” You asked hesitantly hoping this was the right number.

“Yeah. Who’s this?” Came a hyper voice.

You introduced yourself, mentioning you were Will’s girlfriend.

“Oh. OH! Sexy Voice. How you doin’? Why ya callin me sweetness?” He asked excitedly.

You quickly explain what’s been going on, and Benny listened intently.

“He.. he has nightmares… and sometimes they become night terrors. If he’s acting like that, then it’s because he’s scared he’s going to hurt you. So… he’s trying to push you away to protect you,” Benny slowly explained.

“…that idiot,” You muttered softly. “Excuse me. I have to go knock some sense into your brother when he gets back.”

“Good luck, maybe next time we can speak in person, yeah?” Benny offered with a laugh.

“Sounds good to me. Bye,” You hung up, and began to pace, trying to figure out what you were going to say.

Is it wrong for me to not want half?

I want all of you, all the strings attached

Will returned from his run 40 minutes later. He berated himself the entire time. The argument was so stupid he didn’t even know what it was over. He did know… he owed you an apology. As he walked inside, he noticed that you had bought Chinese food and had it set up on the coffee table. There was a glass of wine and a beer waiting as well.

He looked around for you and saw you standing in the kitchen, getting utensils out.

“Hi,” You greeted simply.

You set the utensils down before walking over to him. You stood in front of him, arms crossed.

“I’m tired of fighting. I… I talked to Benny. He told me you have nightmares. Night terrors even. Why… why didn’t you say anything?” You asked wanting to understand.

He looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Because… you didn’t sign up to be with a man who has PTSD and could harm you while he slept,” He confessed quietly.

“Strange… cause.. I feel like I did. I want to be with you. The good, the bad. I’m with you cause I like all of you. Not… parts of you. You told me early on some of the issues you’ve had while back in civilian life. We’ve been together for seven months baby. If I wasn’t all in, I would have left quite some time ago,” You assured him as you stepped closer, placing your hands on his chest.

“I just don’t you to regret being with me,” Will admitted as his hands took hold of yours.

“I won’t. Let’s go eat, yeah? Also… may have promised to meet your brother soon,” You stated with a smile.

Oh, I'm good at keepin' my distance

I know that you're the feelin' I'm missing

You’ve been together a year now, and you finally met Benny, Santi, and Frankie. They are all such dorks, but you can tell they love each other. It made you a bit envious to see their makeshift family. You yourself, hadn’t spoken to your family in years. You had cut ties with them long ago. Will asked about it, but you could never bring yourself to explain it.

It was the holidays, and you were trying to grin and bear it. It didn’t help that your family was blowing up your phone left and right with 100 messages on facebook. Then there was the invitation to the family get together that came in the mail. Will watched as you stare at it blankly before ripping it to pieces. He didn’t ask about it as you then came over to him and curled up in his lap. He just held you close.

Later that night, as the two of you laid in bed, you told him what happened.

“I was engaged… and my sister… slept with my would-be husband… on the day of our wedding,” You began. “And… everyone was strangely surprised when I called off the wedding. Acting like I should’ve been okay with it??”

“Wow,” He said lowly, surprised.

“I threw the antique jewelry and rings he gave me into Boston Harbor, blocked everyone who gave me shit for it, and moved as far away as I could. That’s… that’s how I wound here. Was looking for a fresh start… well. Another fresh start. I moved several times trying to get away from my family. I figured here… no one would look for me. Got a job. Met you. I’m happy,” You further explained sighing a few times.

“I’m glad I make you happy especially cause you make me happy too. How about… we spend Christmas away from here? Go wherever you want?” Will offered turning on his side to look at you.

“Really? So… if I said Italy? We’d go?” You asked excitedly.

Will reaches over and grabs his phone. A few texts and phone calls later, he declared, “We leave the 20th, and we will be back by the 29th. Enough time to be back for New Years. Benny would never forgive us if we missed his annual party.”

You squealed happily and kissed him.

You know that I hate to admit it

But everything means nothin' if I can't have you

A few weeks later found the two of you in a hotel, in Italy. It was Christmas Eve, and you were watching Christmas movies, eating junk food. Halfway through White Christmas, your phone went off. You looked down to see it was your sister trying to video call you on facebook. You paused the movie, situating yourself so Will wasn’t in the frame just yet, before you answered.

“What do you want?” You asked not caring if you sounded rude.

“Wow. So testy. You’re not still mad about me sleeping with Derek, are you?” Your sister asked smugly.

“No. I’m not. But you’re ruining my Christmas Eve with your presence. What do you want?” You asked again unimpressed.

You could hear your parents ask who your sister was talking to and you hear one of them tell her to put you on the big screen. You rolled your eyes and plastered a fake smile as the screen switched to show you the entire family in the living room.

“Hey sweetie! We miss you, why didn’t you come down to see us?” Came your mom’s voice.

“I made other plans. Why does it matter? You haven’t asked me to a family get together in years. Why should I drop everything for this one event?” You questioned rolling your eyes.

You picked up a chocolate covered pretzel and was eating it when you heard a voice tell you, “Really shouldn’t be eating that. It’ll make you fat.”

Your eyes slowly looked at the screen and you spotted him.

“Derek. I see you haven’t crawled back into the sewer you came from. And I will eat whatever the hell I want,” You snarled at him, wishing he was in front of you so you could strangle him.

“Derek and Lydia are getting married. That’s why we wanted you to come. To get over this tiff between you guys,” Your mother chimed in.

You stared at them in disbelief. You looked at Will your eyebrow raised and mouthing ‘are they for real?’ Will was trying not to laugh.

“Can’t. I’m in Italy. So. Too bad. I hope you two are miserable together,” You wished with a bitter smile.

“Italy? Yeah right. I’d bet you are home, alone, pigging out on food to make yourself feel better,” Your sister, Lydia, assumed acting very conceited.

You then gently, turned the camera to show off your view to the right which had the Colosseum in the distance. Then turned it to the left to show off Will, who gave a small wave.

“Uh huh. Buh-bye,” You ended the call as soon as you saw the looks of shock.

The two of you looked at each other and began to laugh. You continued your evening without any more interruptions.

I'm trying to move on

Forget you, but I hold on

Everything means nothing

You two get home with very little issue. You got ready for Benny’s New Years Eve party and were stacking up presents and food in Will’s truck when someone tapped you on your shoulder. You turned around and were horrified to see Derek standing there.

“What the hell do you want? How did you even find me? Why are you here, you creep?” You fired off questions left and right as panic grew.

“Got the address from your parents when they mailed you the invite. Listen. I just want to talk. That’s it,” Derek tried to explain.

Will at that point, walked out with the last of the presents and such. He looked at Derek, then at you. He quietly put the items in the truck. Then stood in front of you.

“You have exactly 10 seconds, to get back into your car and drive away,” Will warned, arms crossed as he glared at Derek.

“This has nothing to do with you, move,” Derek demanded trying to push Will out of the way.

Will didn’t even budge. He stood there, quietly counting. When he reached zero, precisely at the exact moment Derek tried to throw a punch at him, he sighed. Will grabbed the fist that came at him, and quickly threw a right hook out. The punch knocked Derek to the ground. Police were called, and when Derek tried to claim he was assaulted, Will pointed out the security camera that he had installed. Followed by the video that showed Derek escalated the situation. Derek was arrested and you and Will continued to the party.

I can't write one song that's not about you

Can't drink without thinkin' about you

Will pulled up to Benny’s place and asked you if you were okay. You nodded your head, pressing a kiss to his lips, thanking him.

You made your way up to the party, and after explaining what happened, the boys began trying to distract you and make you laugh by telling stories. Frankie asked at one point if you would like to hold his daughter because “She can make anyone smile.”

You said sure and was currently talking gibberish with her.

Will kept an eye on you as he took a drink, while Santi checked to make sure he didn’t bust his hand.

“That prick really showed up at your house? He’s lucky you weren’t armed,” Santi noted with disgust.

“I didn’t mention this to her, but the cop told me he had warrants out on him for stalking and harassment. He won’t be bothering her again for a long time,” Will informed him as he took drained the last of his beer.

“Good. She’s a good one, don’t mess it up yeah?” Santi joked, hitting him on the chest.

“Think it’s too soon to ask her to marry me?” He murmured to him.

“If you don’t, I will,” Santi dared him.

Will shook his head at Santi, who was urging him forward.

Will quietly picked up Frankie’s baby girl and whispered to her, “You can come back to her in a moment. I gotta borrow her.”

Will takes you outside to the balcony.

“You..uh. You havin fun baby?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yeah… what’s up? You’re acting odd,” You noted staring at him confused.

“Listen. I know we’ve only been together a year… and I love you… a lot… You consume my thoughts. I’m crazy for you… So, I was wondering… will you marry me?” He asked stumbling over his words.

You stared at him surprised. Biting your lip, you give your answer, “Yes. On the condition that the engagement is a long one, and we don’t rush anything.”

“I can deal with that, beautiful,” Will accepted the condition with a relieved sigh. “I haven’t gotten a ring yet, but I wanted you to know… that I’m in this for the long haul. You mean everything to me.”

The two of you kissed and broke apart, laughing, as you hear the cheers coming from inside.

“I’m all in if you are?” Will asked in a whisper.

“My life was going nowhere fast, then I met you, and my life got significantly better. So, yeah. I’m all in,” You whispered back.

The two of you headed inside to enjoy the party. Neither of you expected your lives to lead to this but neither of you would change a thing. The two of you founded each other when you both needed it, and that’s all that matters now.

Is it too late to tell you that

Everything means nothing if I can't have you?

#william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #will miller x you #song fic

[shoichee]

Red Rose

Part 3 of the Pun Fest collection!

Akashi x Reader

Word Count: 4,355

Synopsis: You made it a challenge for yourself as the esteemed 1st year class clown to get a reaction out of Akashi. Not just any Akashi, however. Boku-Akashi. Things quickly get too out of hand.

Note: I will be trying to avoid describing the “color” of Akashi’s eyes because they are actually a non-diegetic effect, where the animation/visuals are flashy/emphasized for the audience to see, but in the canon universe, they don’t actually look like that and no one will actually see said animations, and such.

»»—————　☼　—————««

“...and after that, his ass fell flat on the floor right in front of everybody! Can you believe that?”

As your voice chimed throughout the halls, your fellow classmates were stifling their laughter but chortles still escaped from their suppressed lips. Hayama smacked your head in utter embarrassment.

“You’ve already told that story to everyone, c-cut it out already!”

“Kotarooooo,” you pouted. “Not my fault that they kept asking for me to retell it again.” You stuck your tongue at him.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, figurative irk marks popping up on his temple. “You needa show some more respect to your senpais!” With that, he started grabbing your head to mess with your hair.

“H-Hey! It’s not my fault that you tried to impress a passerby 3rd year girl by doing a failed dribbling trickshot,” you vehemently protested, trying to rip his strong grip off your poor hairline.

Your classmates were either watching with complete entertainment or with concern for your safety as both you and the Uncrowned King were duking it out and sidestepping each other. 

… That is, until they grew increasingly uncomfortable after spotting a particular redhead walking in their direction. 

You and Hayama were too invested in the playfight to notice the unforeseen deathly silence and chilled air that accompanied it.

“Kotarō.”

With a simple call from his airy tone that still somehow glaciated the sunniest of atmospheres, he halted both of you (with his hand still fisted in your hair and you still pulling his cheek) to turn your attention to the person to whom the voice belonged.

Akashi Seijuro.

“C-captain!” Hayama separated from you at an inhumane speed that rivaled his lightning dribbling. You stiffened yourself straight like a plank.

You’ve heard the rumors. From whispering gossipers to personal testimony from your blonde best friend, you knew his presence meant anything but pleasant. 

“Did you forget that we had practice today?”

Holy shit. You glanced in the corner of your eye to see Hayama paled before he gulped. Was he gonna be okay?

You dared not move a muscle from where you stood, hoping not to attract the basketball captain’s attention, but you knew you stuck out like a sore thumb after seeing how all the students huddled closer to the walls while you were stuck in the middle along with Hayama and Akashi.

“I knew that you forgot, so I came by for your sake so we can all start practice together as an absolute team.”

Ah… there was his infamous favorite word.

Akashi flickered his catlike gaze to you. He didn’t miss the way your body was paralyzed by fear, but he slightly narrowed his pupils at the fact that you almost looked curious about him.

“We’re going.” He gracefully pivoted around to walk the opposite direction in where he came from.

“I-I’ll see you later, dummy,” he whispered, giving you a playful wink before he strode up to Akashi’s pace, but you knew from his tense back that he was scared shitless of whatever inevitable punishment drill he was going to be tortured by.

You recovered from your stupor and tried to ease Hayama with a joke. “Don’t act all tough, Kota! I know you’re gonna akashit your pants!—” You snorted trying to finish your one-liner but finding your own joke funny. “P-pf-pfft, don’t slip on the floor again, okay?”

And just like that, with your words, the students around you eased up and let out soft chuckles.

Hayama turned back around even as he continued walking. “Oi! Watch it, kid!” He made the motions of pointing his eyes to you, but you knew that he was grateful for you in trying to unravel his bundle of nerves.

Akashi, still walking, merely glanced back at your figure, unamused at your “joke” but nonetheless almost impressed that you actually had some type of leadership charisma to be able to uplift a crowd’s mood in an instant.

. . .

Everyone released a huge sigh of collective relief once the basketball-player duo was out of sight.

“Are you insane, (l/n)?” Another good friend of yours went up to your side. “You had the balls to literally say such a thing in front of him? Of all people?”

“Well, it’s not like, I’d get sent to the faculty office because of him…” you muttered. On second thought, you probably would. This was Akashi Seijuro you were talking about.

Everyone started clamoring as they all started seeing you in a much higher regard; some of them even looked at you with starry eyes and others swore to be your new admirers. The rest, though, thought you had just sealed your fate by getting under Akashi’s radar.

“You’ll be missed and honored,” a classmate said, giving a solid pat to your right shoulder. “What type of flowers would you like for your funeral?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pointing to your chin and staring at the grand ceiling. You turned to them. “Roses as red as Akashi’s hair and the blood of his victims.”

“(l/n), you did not—”

“Oh my god.”

“Is it too late to become religious just to pray for your wellbeing?”

You just summoned chaos in the hallway for the next hour.

---------

The next morning was just another indication of a mild, warm day in Kyoto as you walked past Rakuzan’s school gates. Or at least, you thought the morning would be fine. Even with your thick uniform blazer, you swore that you felt cold chills running down your spine every now and then when you were strolling your normal route to your class.

There’s the cold chills again. 

You stopped and looked around your shoulders and behind your back. No one shady was near; they were all too busy chatting with their friends or changing their shoes in their lockers to care much for your presence. Those who noticed you nearby had already given you a friendly greeting.

You hesitantly walked again, being your usual carefree self but now being hyper aware in tracking the students around you. Your eyes widened.

There.

Had you blinked in that moment, you would have surely missed it, but a flash of red flitted around a corner of a hallway. You sighed and groaned inwardly.

Your classmates were right: you were going to die by the hands of a certain redhead.

This was the price you had to pay for not passing up the perfect opportunity for an iconic line.

---------

“Say,” you said turning to your friend once you entered your classroom. “Has Akashi ever shown a side other than being a calm freak?”

“I don’t know if you ever wanna see anything different than that,” she replied, looking up from her homework.

“Imagine him laughing, though. That’d be news of the century.”

“Dear god, I can’t imagine him laughing other than the kind of scheming cackle you’d get from the TV show villains.” You bursted into a fit of snorts while other students, who were secretly eavesdropping out of curiosity after hearing Akashi’s name, snickered.

Another student wedged himself into your conversation. “No one’s ever seen him show any side of him though. Honestly, he’s like a demon.”

“He’s a 1st year student just like the rest of us,” you chided. “Come on, he’s human too. He wasn’t born to be a calculating machine.”

Everyone in the vicinity gave you incredulous looks (for valid reasons, to be fair).

“Hmph!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll prove it to you guys! He’s not as stone-cold as you think!”

“(y-y/n)-san…” Your friend from earlier tugged onto your sleeve. “You’re really fun to hang around with and all, but…”

“Yeah, um… We know you’re competitive and don’t like to back down, but I think you shouldn’t tread into this type of… dangerous territory.”

“Did you already forget what happened with Hayama-senpai yesterday?”

Pretty soon, a large chorus of agreements and mumbles spread throughout your class. Irked, you pouted as you continued to cross your arms.

“I’m gonna make him laugh, and I’ll do it.”

“Uh..”

“Um…”

No one had the heart to disagree with you when you looked like you sparked a fiery aura around yourself as you raised your fists, ready to take it as a challenge for yourself. 

Your classmate sighed. Welp, there’s a reason why you got along with Hayama so well in the first place.

You were both so overly enthusiastic and reckless.

---------

You’ve been thrumming your fingers on your desk throughout your classes, staring blankly as you start stringing up ideas on how to accomplish your “challenge.”

Succeeding in making Akashi laugh is like Hayama agreeing to let the dentist extract his snaggletooth. You’re basically asking for the impossible.

Maybe you should’ve settled for a more realistic goal, but then again, this entire ordeal was an entire miracle on its own.

Ah ha. You stopped your finger taps, hitting a fist to your palm in realization. Maybe you just need to get a reaction out of him, and the rest will eventually fall into place.

At the same time, your friend looked at you in worry; you were making odd hand gestures and mumbling to yourself as you went too deep within your thoughts to regard your surroundings.

Oh dear.

---------

Once lunch began, you immediately left class after incoherent chants of “seeyah” and “gotta go” to go look for Hayama’s corpse and pay your respects for the poor 2nd year after yesterday.

You bought sweet bread from the student store for his offering before you went to look for him.

At the sight of the completely lethargic Hayama, you ran up to him in mock grief.

“Ah, spirit-sama!” you cried out, bowing with your hands clasped together (the bread secured in between). “Please at least tell me that Kota died peacefully—” He interrupted you with a chop to the head.

“Ow! Please don’t curse me, spirit! I didn’t treat him that poorly when he was alive…” You winced, rubbing your head in an attempt to soothe the impact. 

“I’m not dead, idiot!” he retorted, but his banter lacked bite, and both of you knew why.

You sighed before you flashed him a genuine worried expression. “Are you okay, though?” You promptly handed him the bread, and he immediately did a 180, hooting and having starry eyes at the package.

“Of course I am,” he said, munching on the bread. “Not! He made me do so many extra drills and exercises that I seriously thought I was gonna die!”

“Okay, before you totally freak out, but please don’t freak out,” you started. You told him about your plan about Akashi.

“You’re gonna WHAT—”

“SHHHhhhHHH—” You clamped over his mouth despite him still chewing. “What did I just say?”

“Reo-nee! Ei-chan!” he called out while you still attempted to close his yapper. “Save meeeee!”

The said Uncrowned Kings nearby eyed you two before looking at each other and shrugged; they strolled up to you.

“Oh? (y/n)-chan?” Reo tucked his strands behind his ear. “Has he been causing a ruckus?”

“I have not—”

“Actually, since you’re here anyways, I wanna ask you all something,” you said. “What do you know about Akashi personally?”

“Huh?” was all you heard from the Uncrowned Kings.

“Well…” Reo hummed. “I might know a thing or two about Sei-chan…”

“I’ll just go get lunch,” Nebuya called out.

---------

Day 1 of the Challenge.

Thanks to Reo, you knew most of Akashi’s schedules so you can find the perfect opportunities to “safely” encounter him.

You waited behind a corner of the hall that you knew Akashi would walk through to get to the student council room during lunch. Peeking out, you looked for scarlet hair, ignoring the judgmental (and curious) glances thrown your way here and there. 

The moment you saw that everyone instantly collectively vanished, you knew Akashi was extremely nearby. You took a huge breath, expanding your chest to the point of exaggeration, and turned around the corner to finally meet the infamous emperor. 

You casually strolled, putting up an impeccable act that you were naturally there rather than staking out the same spot for 20 minutes. 

There he is. 

You purposely got closer, hoping the closeness between you two would catch his attention. He walked without a change in expression, however, impassively eyeing you before turning his gaze back to the front. That’s when you saw your opportunity.

You almost bumped into him, but you jumped away at the last second while putting your hands up in surrender.

“W-whoa! Wahh, sorry, Akashi-san!” you quickly apologized in a bow. “Luckily, I had my emperor’s eye to foresee the future and prevented any mishap on my part.” You peeked up from your position to see him standing with his back to you, head turned to the side. 

A few beats of silence passed before he said, “Your head is too high.”

“Huh?” You were thrown off. That was the last thing you expected him to say. “Wouldn’t my head not be high because I’m bowing?”

He was still assessing you from the corner of his eye, and you willed yourself to return his stare.

“Stay out of my way.”

“Then you should take your own advice,” you huffed, getting up from your bow. “Yesterday morning, I knew you were watching me at some point before you disappeared.” 

But he just turned his head back to the front and continued his intended course for the student council room.

Day 1 Results: he scared the daylights out of you instead of you trying to unnerve him.

---------

Day 2 of the Challenge.

What the hell did he mean by “your head is too high?” You still couldn’t decipher his cryptic line. Maybe he just said it to everyone, but that would be really corny of him; he wasn’t that type of person.

Did he think you were too much of a peasant to even talk to him?

You gritted your teeth. You weren’t gonna give up any time soon.

When everyone was dismissed after school, Hayama let you accompany him to Rakuzan’s spacious gym, under the belief that you were going to go home right after.

As soon as you were both in front of the bulky front doors, you marched right in, catching the blonde off guard so much at the fact that you waltzed in there (full knowing Akashi was in there). He couldn’t yank you out in time even with his lightning reflexes, and you skipped around, being careful to stay near the gym walls to not disrupt anyone. You plopped yourself on one of the further benches where you knew none of the players would ever sit, and as soon as you knew Akashi was in earshot (who was ignoring your existence), you smirked.

“Hey Kota!”

“Huh?” He looked up from rummaging through his duffel bag.

“I’ve heard shogi is being played a lot more by people our age for once, but don’t you think it’s such a dread to play such a dull hobby?”

“Yeah, righ—oh.” He swallowed back his answer in seeing Akashi behind you a few meters away, being as still as a statue.

You gleefully looked behind you, hoping for any entertaining response.

Without moving, he slinked his pupils to you before grabbing a water bottle and leaving.

“C-c-can you just drop this entire thing already?” Hayama runs to your side to give your shoulders a firm shake. “I swear to god, you’re not gonna live at this point!”

“You’re right,” you said. “Just for today, I’ll have to retreat before I’ll die.”

“Not just today!” He shook you harder. “I mean stop this for good!”

“Kota, I already signed a death certificate the moment I bumped into him yesterday. Might as well go all out.”

“Oh god, you started this yesterday?”

“Well, I gotta go! See you tomorrow!”

“... More like see you never.”

Day 2 Results: his reaction was inconclusive, but it was more of a failure than success.

---------

Day 3 of the Challenge.

You were pondering about how to annoy Akashi next, both excited and terrified about where this was going to end up.

“(l/n).”

“Y-yes?” You stood straight up from your seat the moment your homeroom teacher called you.

“During lunch, please make your way to the student council room. You’re needed.”

What in the world was going on? 

You fidgeted in your seat for the next few hours, shooting anxious glances at the clock every so often. All your classmates’ words of encouragement went through one ear and out the other.

“You’ll be fine!”

“I’m sure a teacher just wants you to help out with some workload…”

“We’re rooting for you!”

As the lunch bell rang, you braced yourself before you promptly made your way to the room that reeked of that particular chilled atmosphere that repelled most students away.

You prodded the door open, slipped in, and softly clicked the door shut before turning around to face the poker-faced terror sitting on his desk, watching your every move.

“Right on time.”

“You called me here?”

Akashi paid no heed to your outburst and continued. “I’ll admit. I’m quite interested in you. You have the innate sense of magnetism that draws others in.”

D-did he just compliment you?

“I would like to put your leadership to the test. You’re now vice.”

“What? You can’t just make a decision like that!”

“I ordered him to quit. There shouldn’t be a problem.”

What the hell?

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell—

Akashi looked at you like he was peering into the depths of your conscience and simply gave a civil smile.

“I hope you will contribute greatly to this school.”

Day 3 Result: a miserable failure.

---------

Day 4 of the Challenge.

You’re stressed, and it’s all Akashi’s fault.

Which made you even more determined to ruffle his feathers and rile him up.

When news broke out of your new “promotion” as vice president, your classmates celebrated for you and your already high popularity skyrocketed. Your teachers didn’t want to hear you talking about quitting when you “haven’t tried anything yet to know if this job was for you.”

The Rakuzan’s basketball starters (minus Mayazumi) were initially ecstatic for you as well… until you told them about Akashi’s string-pullings. 

“I’ll make sure Sei-chan won’t do anything, okay (y/n)-chan?”

“Thanks a bunch, Reo-kun… or should I say… Reokunma (Rilakkuma bear)?” You snapped your fingers at him. He just stared at you and patted your head, totally disregarding the fact that you made a pun.

“Just pack in the muscles and you’ll have nothing to worry about!” Nebuya flexed his biceps before getting a scolding from Reo.

“Shortie! Call me whenever you need help!” Hayama dropped his elbow on top of your shoulder to emphasize his point.

“Argh, Kotarō! You’re not that much taller than me at all!” You rolled your eyes. “If anyone, why don’t you say that to Akashi?”

“Say what.”

Oh fuck.

“S-Sei-chan!...” Reo walked over to Akashi. “If you’re here for us, I thought practice didn’t start until much later!”

“I am here for (y/n).” 

His irises contracted, highlighting his feline pupils. “I am depending on you as vice president to make this school an absolute powerhouse.” 

He still somehow made that sound extremely condescending, like a king encouraging a mere peasant. 

You were scared out of your wits, but you weren’t going to crumble so easily. Not until Akashi did first.

“Buh-bye, everyone! Good luck in practice later!”

. . . 

The walk back to the office was painfully silent. You decided to break it.

“I’m not taking back what I said, prez, you’re a shortie.”

He paused in his steps. “You run your mouth while knowing no bounds.”

“You’re just a spoilsport, y’know.”

“My orders are absolute.”

“You know, you’re scary as shit, but the whole ‘absolute’ line kinda grows old when I hear it every time I talk to you.”

Palpable silence blanketed between the two of you once again at your words.

This guy can’t even crack no matter what you do.

You stepped into the office and followed him to his desk. He walked to grab a pen from a drawer before he approached you.

He stepped forward, thrusted the sleek, black fountain pen to your face, and jerked back the writing instrument at the last millisecond. 

You froze, forgetting to breathe as you felt the pen nib harshly prodding the tip of your nose.

“Do not make me repeat myself. My orders are absolute.”

He then gave you some paperwork and assignments to complete like nothing ever transpired. 

Day 4 Results: you thought being relentless in your attacks would prove beneficial, but you’re starting to regret everything.

---------

Day 5 of the Challenge.

Maybe you needed to avoid direct confrontation, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get a reaction from him in other ways.

One small perk of being vice was the fact that you no longer needed to tail around Akashi in order to bump into him “coincidentally,” but you’re not sure if this sole advantage could outweigh the disadvantages, particularly one that might result in your early death.

You’re frankly not as scared as you should be, even though you definitely were at those times you were with Akashi. If anything, it pissed you off that he’s always able to get you to jump out of your skin.

He’s just a 1st year. He’s just a 1st year.

You went to the student council room early to tape on a note to his desk, so there wouldn’t be a chance that it would “fall off his desk” and that “he didn’t see it.”

Roses are red,

I suppose you’re “absolute.”

You’ll still be knocked dead,

And there’ll be no dispute.

You snickered. It was too funny to pass up.

Before you left, you took the time to survey around and get a solid look at the office interiors for the first time (since Akashi’s presence made it impossible for anyone to not pay attention to him).

It was ridiculously tidy, all the wooden furniture polished to the point where their mahogany varnishes shined. Books were meticulously ordered by alphabetical order and genres, and they looked like they were all dusted at every free chance. The rugs showcased simple circles, but the minimalism of them added to the office’s air of crisp cleanliness. The gray curtains gently framed the wide window behind Akashi’s desk. But what really caught your eye was a board of shogi and its pieces tucked away in a corner on a high shelf.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try knocking on Death’s door again.

. . . 

Akashi’s shoe clicked on the floor as he opened the door. His steps continued to echo throughout the small room as he walked to his desk to start his work, that is, until he saw your note.

“Oh?” A grin snaked its way onto his face by the time he read the last line.

He severely underestimated you. You unexpectedly had tenacity.

No one has ever defied him repeatedly so openly before.

His expression put the notorious Cheshire cat to shame, his ulterior smile occupying half his face as his eyes widened in excitement equivalent to a predator.

Feeling pumped for the first time in a while, he decided to expend his energy on shogi. He carefully brought down the board and placed it onto his desk, going through the familiar motions of unpacking and setting up a game, before he froze.

There were various pencil doodles on each shogi piece. All of them were variants of :/ and :). 

You were taking a jab at his personality as well as his mannerisms.

He barked an amused harsh laugh. 

. . . 

Day 5 Results: truth be told, you were too scared to see him face to face right after your double stunts; since you knew his schedules, you only came into the student council office when you knew he wasn’t inside.

---------

Day 6 of the Challenge.

Continuing to avoid him would already confirm to Akashi that you were actually shaken up by the high possibility of him retaliating, and you definitely weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. 

You went to class as always, and by break, you feigned innocence as you strolled into the council room, seeing Akashi leaning against the table.

“Good morning, Akashi.”

He nodded in acknowledgment before he gave a full, predatory smile, his pupils focused on you. 

“To continue to fuel diligent work, it’s beneficial to recognize one’s efforts by giving gifts.”

What? Was he not going to bring up what you did yesterday?

He pulled out a single red rose and gracefully tilted it for you to take. You warily plucked it out of his hand.

In a different context, it would’ve been sweet or even romantic, but you knew Akashi ticked a different tune.

“I do hope that you will continue to stay and become even more efficient with your work.”

You gazed at the rose at your hand, confused, as Akashi started walking back out, heading for the door.

You gasped.

“... Did you overhear our conversations the other day in the hallway?”

He chuckled. 

“I know the future, because I am absolute.”

“Bastard.” You clicked your tongue, turning to Akashi. “You knew the entire time?” 

“Shogi is easily applied to every aspect of life. Move the correct pieces and you will always win.”

You turned back around to avoid letting Akashi see you in an embarrassed state. He played you like an absolute fiddle. 

You scowled, and you were about to cross your arms in defiance until the sunlight from the window cascaded on something where your “note” used to be.

“Akashi, what’s that on your desk?” You tentatively walked up to the table to see a stainless glass vase with a single dark burgundy dahlia resting daintily against the inner rim.

His hand was on the doorknob before he turned back to face you.

“Dahliang,” his tone of voice light, almost mockingly saccharine. “Do be careful from now on.”

He left.

Day 6 Results: he completely destroyed you at your own game and sealed the final nail to your coffin with a pun.

---------

End Note: Black dahlias (which are actually dark burgundy in color) symbolize signs of warning, betrayal, and other negative emotions.

#knb #knb x reader #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi scenarios #kuroko no basket #kotaro hayama #hayama kotarou #reo mibuchi #nebuya eikichi #rakuzan #knb scenarios #punfest series #bokushi #boku-akashi #ore-akashi

[hopelikethemoon]

exquisite (ezra x reader) [rated - m]

title: exquisite  content: smut, light somnophilia, *coughs* squirting, and daddy kink summary: smut, this is just smut between reader and ezra notes: *LOUD  PTERODACTYL SCREAMING*

Once you invited Ezra into your bed, he never left. Night after night, you found comfort in his warmth. You fit into the curve of his body like you were made to be beside him. He always slept on his right side, despite mild discomfort (that he never admitted to) because it allowed him to wrap his arm around you. Posessively — not that there was any question about who you belonged to. 

Some nights you would awake to feel his fingertips trailing down the soft skin of your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your sleep pants — or uninhibited by clothes after an early night of fucking. He’d never let his wandering hand wander further until he was certain he’d roused you from your sleep. You’d linger somewhere between awake and asleep, just conscious enough to beg for more. 

His fingers would slip between your thighs, deft fingertips gliding between your slick folds. He’d tease you — for too long — before he’d finally give you what you wanted. Ezra hadn’t been particularly gifted with his left hand when you’d first slept with him. He hadn’t been with anyone to gain that skill, not since before the loss of his right arm. 

He’d been so endearing about it. That talented tongue of his weaving together a litany of apologies, murmured utterances begging for understanding. Of course you understood. What sort of monster would fault him for something he had no control over. What he had lacked with his fingers, that first time, he had made up for with his mouth. But now — now he was an expert at his work. 

“Fuck.” You hissed out as he thrust two fingers into your cunt, his thumb dragging over the tender bundle of nerves that spiked desire throughout you. Your fingers curled around his wrist and you sank back against him with a shudder. “More.” 

“It is such a vexatious shame to rouse you, when you made such a pretty picture beside me.” He murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But I so desired to feel this lovely pussy dripping for me.” 

You gasped as his fingertips pressed against that sweet spot within you and you couldn’t prevent the way your legs twitched in response. Every nerve ending in your body seemed hyper-focused on the magic that he was working with his fingers. 

“Can you handle one more, my sweet little bird?” Ezra questioned, nipping at your earlobe before he dragged his mouth against the column of your throat. “Use your words for me. I want to hear you.” 

“More.” You whispered, barely certain of your own voice. 

“Louder.” 

Your hips bucked against his hand as the fingers he had buried within you pressed into that overwhelming spot once more. “Ezra — fuck — please.” 

“Such filthy language.” He cooed, sucking lightly at your pulse point. “Can you ask real pretty for me?” He drawled out, his voice positively dripping with desire. 

“Please, daddy.” 

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as he worked a third finger into your pussy, setting off your release. Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers, but that didn’t deter him. Ezra kept working them in and out of you, seeking out that spot within you to tease, as his thumb circled your clit. 

You got lost in the sensations he gave you. His mouth teasing at the crook of your neck, the words that slipped past those lips that you loved most. Everything about him got swept into the moment that was building on the desire you felt pooling in your lower stomach. 

Your first release had barely subsided before Ezra dragged you straight into your second orgasm. 

In vain you tried to squirm out of his grasp. It was too much. Your body was a live wire of pleasure and he kept thrusting his fingers into you. 

“Birdie—” He started and you knew precisely what he was asking for. You had been here before. 

“Yes!” 

You hardly had a chance to mourn the loss of his fingers, before his cock swiftly replaced them. His hand spread out across your lower belly, pressing down and holding you tightly as he pistoned his hips into you. 

You were soaring somewhere high above it all; lost solely to the pleasure that he brought you. Everything else faded away — there was only you and Ezra. Only you, Ezra, and the fire burning hotly within you.

“Love the way you feel around me cock, little bird.” Ezra panted out against your neck. You loved how harsh his voice sounded, how thick with desire his words became when he got like this. His flowery language was traded out for strings of sinful words that made your desire peak. 

“Are you going to come for me again?” He questioned, his hand slipping down to tease the point where you were joined together. He stroked his fingertip over your clit and your cunt clenched tightly around his cock. “Fuck. That’s it, little bird. I want you to come for me. One more time and then I’ll let you go back to sleep.” 

“Ezra!” You whimpered, feeling utterly overwhelmed by the pleasure he was bringing to you. “Please.” It was almost too much. An intense pressure was building and you were certain that this orgasm would break you. 

His fingers gripped at your hip briefly as he shifted behind you, adjusting the angle of his thrusts. The angle was perfect and that was all it took to set you off again. It was — as you assumed — the most intense orgasm of your life. You moaned wantonly as you felt an unfamiliar rush of moisture between your thighs. 

Ezra’s own release was fast behind you. One, two, three more thrusts was all it took before you felt his cock twitch within you as he came. He keeps pumping his hips into you for a few more seconds, before he stills — finally exhausted. 

“I should’ve known,” Ezra muttered after a few moments, as he tenderly nuzzled at a point behind your ear, curling his arm around your waist securely. 

“Hmm?” You managed, melting into his embrace. Your body still fluttered around his softening cock and you weren’t certain if you’d ever come down from the high. You were too boneless to even care about moving away from the damp spot beneath the pair of you.

“A most magnificent occurrence, little bird.” He drawled out, his tongue tracing over your skin. “I do believe I told you that I could be the one to make you squirt.” 

Despite everything that the pair of you had just done, his words managed to make your cheeks burn hot with a fierce blush. 

You bunched up the pillow beneath your head and quickly buried your face in it with a soft groan. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassured you. “It is just one of the many exquisite things your body can do.” 

You pulled your face out of the pillow and turned a little to look at him, scrunching your nose up. “You think everything I do is exquisite.”

“Quite right, too.” Ezra smirked, as he finally pulled out of you. He stroked his hand down your side lazily. “Let me clean us up and then you can sleep.” He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, before he moved off the bed.

You smiled dreamily as you watched him walk away, your eyes already half-lidded from exhaustion. No matter how many times Ezra managed to wreck you, he was always the sweetest when it came to aftercare. One day, you were going to finally admit to him just how much you loved him. But not tonight. Tonight it just seems silly to admit you love him, after he made you squirt for the very first time. 

#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect) #pedro pascal x reader #OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE

[spacehologramcollection]

Kombat Krew and Animal Crossing.

It should come as no surprise that I’ve been playing Animal Crossing a lot recently. I’ve got real life debt in terms of my student loans. And also, debt in the game too! What a life I have and what a world we live in. So, here’s a crossover that no one asked for. Kombat Krew reacting to it/ playing it with their S/O and what kind of villager they’d be!  I didn’t do everyone, mainly the ones that I think would/could play the game! And This is such a pure post. Wow. No warnings what so ever. But just because of length of post I’ve popped a cut in, just because it’s a little long!

·         Cassie Cage; She’s reluctant to play it at first. When you’re both chatting about it and hyping it up, she’s sipping her smoothie raising an eyebrow. But because she’s a supportive partner, she will watch all the trailers in the hype run. She has to admit it does look cute. She’ll buy you it and can’t help but keep peering up and watching as you run around your island, catching bugs and fish. Smiling at the occasional scream as you try and run from a tarantula. “So, you owe the Racoon money? Wait, why are you paying for more extensions on your house?!” Doesn’t understand till she finally bites the bullet and plays it when you’re not in… within an hour she’s bought it and is playing it. Then it’s on. You find her awake at 3 AM, she’s sat crossed legged on the sofa, playing it intently. Cute dates where you go out to a café and local play. Visiting each other’s islands, planting flowers and taking cute aesthetic photos. Her house is full of bright colours and random assortments of bits and pieces she found cute. Johnny takes the piss out of you both. The fact you’re both sat next to each other on the sofa, playing the same game, and speaking gibberish. Cassie is also slightly competitive; she doesn’t know where she gets it from Johnny and Sonya.  So, it’s no wonder that she wins the tourneys, does all of the events and completes the nook mile challenges efficiently. 

If she was a Villager: A squirrel. Kind of like Blaire. Normal personality.

·         Smoke (Tomas Vrbada): If ever there was a game that fit Smokes aesthetic and general vibe it would be Animal Crossing. How he got introduced to the series was that he was reading peacefully. Until your squeal of excitement disrupted him. Honestly, at first, he thought some shit had happened. Queue him evaporating and appearing mid living room. Only to see you’re happy because there was a leaked trailer for a game. His mouth starts out agape, as if questioning, why you would make such a noise over a game. That expression changes when he watches it with you. He loves it so much… is actually excited for the prospect of living a quiet life on his own Island. Pre-orders with you so you both can play it. Smoke also definitely owns a grey switch. He. Loves. This. Game. Stays up late with you playing it the first days it’s released. His islands name will be something fantasy based. His character has great hair too. Loves planting flowers and tending your joint garden on his island. His house is so neat, and each room has a theme. Everything is in place and organised too. He loves also going to the museum with you and having a look at everything. He loves that there’s a museum. He’s pretty much the Lin Kuei Blathers at this point. And you guys can go on virtual dates to the museum and each other’s towns when he’s away on a mission. Loves playing it whilst you’re both snuggled up in bed together. When he finds out that the different hemispheres have different bugs and fish, he begs Bi-Han and Kuai to get it. Because he wants to flesh that museum out! “So, there’s this racoon that you have to pay your debt off too. But it’s addictive and it’s a great distraction…” “TOMAS IT’S 3AM GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP” – Bi-Han. If he was a villager: There’s a hipster bear in it. So yeah. He’s a hipster bear, he’s basically Beardo. If there were owl villagers, I’d have made him an owl! Smug personality on AC is more polite, gentleman like, so it’s actually not a bad personality.

·         Kabal: He’s sure he should be doing work right now. But who gives a fuck when he needs to tend to his garden. Virtual chibi Kabal is living his best life right now. Not having to put up with Kano. His boots are on his desk whilst he plays. He honestly remembers playing the original on GameCube. A friend from school had it and he wanted it so badly, but his mom could never afford it. But now he’s an adult, he can literally buy whatever the fuck he wants. When he finds out you love the series too, he cannot help but smile. He tries to let on that he’s not obsessed, but he is. He preloads it and keeps checking to see if you can play it. Queue him staying up till midnight and waking you up to let you know it’s on. By the time you get up properly he’s filling out the museum, has paid off his first loan and is ready for more. He loves playing it with you, will be a bit of a dick at times, and will totally hit you with net or snipe the bug you’re trying to get. Only for him to gift you it. He’s strategically planned this hit. He’s chosen the Southern Hemisphere and has got oranges. He needs everything. It’s cute how obsessed he is with it. When he’s away, he loves playing it with you, visiting each other’s towns, leaving cute notes on the Notice Board and sending letters. Virtual you and him are so cute. “Hey Kabal, what you playin’?” “None of your fucking business.”  

If he was a villager: Definitely an Alligator. Just going off the fact he has a tooth. I’m going with Jock personality. Just because he’s a hyper up and can be intense at times. So probably like Sly.

·         Frost: She like Cassie pretends not to care about it. Who has time for games? She sure as hell doesn’t… even though it does look cute, and she does miss having a garden. She finds it therapeutic. Not that the temple has a garden because ahaha it’s fucking freezing and always snowing. Frost is literally acts like an ice sculpture, hard and frozen inside and out. In reality, she’s more like a snowman. Soft and squishy. She does have a soft spot for the game… especially when she watches you planting flowers and making a little garden. If you have a full switch and can create multiple characters, she may get a little emotional that you made her and made her a little garden. Okay. Maybe she’ll play it for a few minutes… *Four hours later* She’s giggling wildly as she catches bugs and plants and waters more flowers. At first, she’s content with just playing the character you made her… but then she finds out from Cassie you can play together. And that’s it. She wants to do cute couple shit on it. Buys the game and surprises you when she sits next to you and reluctantly asks what to call her Island. You’ll both lay next to each other playing it together. She’s hyper competitive as well, so she ends up doing all of the tourneys and winning. As well as helping you out if you’re struggling with a certain part.   If she was a Villager: She’s definitely a cat villager. Probably like Katt, quirky looking and a bit mean looking. But on the inside really caring and sweet.

·         Kuai Liang (Sub Zero): Why is he playing this again? You said you had a great distraction in mind for him. What he did not expect was for him to be sat on your sofa on a rainy day. Holding you switch and staring from it to the TV in mild confusement. He knew that a new game had come out and it had, in a word, consumed every fibre of your being for the past few days. He loved how happy it made you and would often smile fondly watching you play it… but he didn’t expect himself to be playing it. You made him, pretty accurately, on the game and he’s kind of impressed. You do have to walk him through it, because him and technology do not mix. He does get the hang of it and he has the patience of a saint and the accuracy of a pro angler when it comes to catching fish. You’re pretty damn impressed. He hates to admit how much he loves the game. And it’s kind of cute that you’re sort of playing it together. He may round the corner a few times when you’re playing to ask if you’re advancing the island, because he knows he can’t do it… and he would like to visit the museum and add to it. Secretly loves it. Not enough for him to actually play it himself, but he does find himself playing it in a morning before you wake up. Don’t tell Smoke or Bi-Han he won’t hear the end of it. ‘I don’t have time for pop culture’ BULLSHIT KUAI!

If he was a villager: A Penguin. fucking fight, me on this. He’d probably look like Roald but with a smug personality. Remember Smug is good in this game, I know mind fuck.

·         Bi-Han: Okay so the colours hurt his head. They are so bright. Why is that eagle wearing a blazer? What the fuck is going on. If you thought Kuai was confused Bi-Han is next level confused… but he also wants a go. He really wants to play it. He likes to get involved with what you like, and if playing this Mutli-coloured game about living on an island makes you happy, then so be it! Will start off with a character on your save. Before progressing to him eventually getting it himself and ‘borrowing’ the hidden Switch that Smoke has. The one he hides at the bottom of his sock draw, next to his diary, to the left of embarrassing photos of him. You’ll find him playing in between meditation and training. He secretly loves it. He gets a system going and soon has overtaken you on it. Invites you around to show off his pad. Which is a mess, just like his actual room. But it’s got the Bi-Han charm. Totally moves his house to a ledge so no one can visit him. Will play it secretly, pretending to be busy but actually just vibing on a tree stump catching bugs. He loves visiting your island. He’ll change your flowers around, and plant fruit trees for you. He’ll also leave you small presents in your house. He gets into it, but he just likes been able to share a bit of your world. He didn’t have videogames growing up, so it’s nice to finally be exposed to a bit of pop culture.

If he was a villager: He’d be a bear with a jock personality. Would probably look something similar to either Curt or Groucho.

·         Jacqui: She’s excited to play this. She remembers playing it when she was younger. Confused the fuck out of her dad. They had a real farm, but she wanted to virtually take care of her plants and trees. Confused him. But when she finds out you love the game too, she’s over the fucking moon. She’s got Cassie to play it with her, but the fact you, her darling S/O love it too makes her so happy! She’s had the same aesthetic and favourite villagers since she was a kid. But she loves all the villagers, she thinks there all quirky and cute in there own way! Her Island is also so organised. She also saved your butt a few times, catching the tarantulas as you ran around madly trying to avoid them. She event split the profit from her trip to tarantula island with you!  I’ve always had the HC that Jacqui is artistic, so she makes cute custom designs that look 110% amazing. And has totally made you both matching outfits to wear and take cute photos with. She tried her hardest to make her house into your shared apartment, and to be fair, she did a really great job at it! You and her both lay on the sofa playing it together, laughing and chilling together over takeaway, with a comfy movie on in the background. She loves that you can share this interest and that you can still virtually be together when she’s far away. Will send you letters in game too when she’s away. With stuff she’s picked up and thinks you’ll like or will ok cute in her house. She owns all the shell stuff because it’s so pretty and costal looking. Her house is totally near the beach. She’s always secretly wanted to live near the coast. Jax can’t get his head around that your in her game, and she’s in yours.

If she was a villager: I’d say a wolf villager. Kind of like Audie who’s really peppy and happy go-lucky. Most of her intros are upbeat and can-do attitude like! So, I think it matches her personality really well!

#Mortal Kombat 11 #Mortal Kombat x reader #Smoke #tomas vrbada #Sub Zero #Kuai Liang #Bi-Han #Cassie Cage #Kabal #jacqui briggs #Mortal Kombat headcanons #Mk #mk11 #mk headcanons #frost #Smoke x reader #sub zero x reader #bi-han x reader #kabal x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #kuai liang x reader

[bugmomwrites]

Bloody Knuckles (Satori Tendou x GN!Reader)

A/N: My first time writing for Tendou! He was definitely one of the more multi faceted characters I’ve seen thus far, and I wanted to portray him in a way that wasn’t just an unhinged crackhead and it turns out I’m soft for The Weird Ones With A Heart Of Gold so...yay? 

Give this song a listen while you read!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8GwUos_Mtw&list=LLMufVjq3gMI8bOOKLeFGq4g&index=257

If this takes off and enough people ask/comment/reblog I may write part 2 but no promises

TW: You break someone’s nose so a little blood? You can throw a mean punch in this one. Do with that what you will.

“Hey, I’m sorry for worrying you. Semi kind of exaggerated over the phone but I swear I’m fine.”

Silence.

You gulp. Tendou has already thanked the nurse for cleaning your cuts, and offers to wrap the last couple bandages. Sensing you two needed to be alone, she gives him the roll and quietly tends to the others. The several wrappings on his own hands must have been enough of an indication to them, seeming to say I know what I’m doing! I’ve done this before!, and it wasn’t like it was anything major. If it was something more graphic, say, a gun wound, they might have done it themselves. But here he was, wrapping you up with a level of care and intimacy reserved only for you.

How on earth did he let this happen again? You had been on your way to the gym around the same time he usually finished practice so the two of you could walk home together and hang out after school. Nothing out of the ordinary. You even had his varsity jacket on to block out the chilly autumn breeze, grateful that the sleeves were long enough to go well past your hands. His number 5 stitched onto the back was just the icing on the cake, and you wore it with pride.

Except today had been a little different.

As his s/o, you were very well aware of his past experiences with bullying, how he was labeled a “monster” by his peers; excluded from activities and singled out- sometimes even by the teachers. And while he had initially grown from the experience, feeling much more confident not just with age but with you becoming a vital part of his life as well, that didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten it either. Even though it was much less common in high school, there would still be the rare few that had something nasty say about him, but you didn’t think you’d ever witness it first hand in your third and final year.

As luck would have it, your “good behavior” streak came to a screeching halt when you heard snickers coming a little ways behind you. Frowning, you turned your head just in time to see a cluster of what looked like a few college kids from the team Shiratorizawa practiced against. You wondered briefly what was so amusing to them, when the shortest of the three beckoned you over. Hesitantly, you followed to where they were, just a couple yards away from the gym entrance.

“Can I help you?”, you asked curiously. One of them nodded, leaning down a bit and spoke.

“Yeah, we couldn’t help but wonder- are you dating the infamous Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa? The number on your back looked familiar.”

“Oh you mean Tendou! Yeah, he’s the greatest. Have you guys met him?”, at this they all exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. You faltered, half expecting that these guys were maybe friends of his, or at least on good terms. Anytime someone would ask you about your boyfriend, you were used to gushing about him to anyone who would listen, so this mockery was unprecedented. 

“Looks like even the Yokai scored a s/o before you did after all, Katsu. Pay up.” The one named Katsu groaned, but reached into his wallet nonetheless and handed over a few paper bills. At this, you frowned. Who the hell did they think they were, speaking so poorly about the man you loved with your whole heart?!

Indignantly, you huffed are them, demanding to know what kind of beef they had with Tendou. They glared down at you, retaliating with some judgmental comments. You couldn’t even remember how it escalated; whether it was a gradual build up or one sole thing that sent you from 0 to 100, but before you knew it hands were being thrown, and the little voice in the back of your mind warning you about utterly stupid you were acting was ultimately silenced.

Being outnumbered, and not to mention much smaller it wasn’t hard for them to land a couple hits on you. Unbeknownst to you Semi passed by the commotion just in time to see two of the guys comforting their friend, who was now holding a bloody nose.

This would have been the perfect time to make your getaway, but after you heard the words “psycho bitch” there was nothing in your veins but pure unadulterated rage, and any momentary relief Semi may have felt at the prospect of the scrap winding down, was shot down almost instantly.

He wasn’t too sure who he should be more worried for, but getting in the middle of it wouldn’t end well for anybody. The sight of maroon blotches on the concrete and smearing over all four of you sent him into a mild panic, as he turned the corner and dialed 911.

“Yeah, Shiratorizawa Academy. Just outside the gym. Thank you. Please hurry.”

He still had one more call to make, although he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Steeling his nerves and swallowing any anxiety that got caught in his throat he tapped the green call button. The dial tone sounded for fifteen long seconds before a cheerful voice finally greeted him on the other line.

“Semi-Semi? I’m right inside. Did you forget something after practice?”

“Tendou! It’s Semi. Hurry outside, it’s urgent.”

“I think the last time I decked somebody on your behalf was before we got to Shiratorizawa. Middle schoolers are ruthless”, you chuckled nervously, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. When he still didn’t respond, you cleared your throat.

“Tendou?”, you speak again, but this time your voice is much softer. Much more uncertain. As if you’re afraid to raise your voice out of fear of one or both of you breaking. With a shaky sigh, you reach a newly wrapped hand under his chin.

“Satori.”

This time, his face lifts into your view, and you don’t miss the way his brows furrow with worry, or the way his lips tremble as glossy eyes avert your own. A heavy hand is placed over yours, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your palm.

People had always told you that one of these days that temper of yours would get you into trouble. That was one other difference you had with Tendou- your boyfriend was nicknamed the “Guess Monster” on and off the court, the title coming from his hyper observant nature and uncanny ability to easily read the people around him at a moments notice. Tendou was strategic, often analyzing even the most mundane from seemingly every angle, running the possibilities through his brain before executing a final decision.

You on the other hand? You were impulsive, brash, the patron saint of “act first think later”. You were prone to getting caught up in the moment, and being much more volatile than your romantic counterpart. That mentality, coupled with your loyalty and strong sense of justice was the perfect storm for leading you into scenarios much like this one. 

Sure, you had scared off bullies for Tendou before, and every time he would hug you tight and tell you to “be more careful next time”, and just like clockwork you’d be on your best behavior for all of a week or so before inevitably relapsing back to instinctive rage. The cycle would continue, and for a while spats like these became less frequent, much to Tendou’s joy.

This was not “just another spat”.

Instead of relieved affection and that familiar grin you knew and loved, the back of the ambulance was deadly quiet, save for the EMTs bustling around outside.

His name still hung in the air, and before you could say anything else you felt warm droplets rolling onto your newly wrapped hands. One by one teardrops soaked through the fabric in the form of little dots, and your heart dropped as the harsh reality set in. 

Tendou Satori was crying. Your lovably goofy, sweet boyfriend, who you swore to protect from all the vile comments. From all the evil in the world. From any and all things that would make him cry.

But this time, it was because of you.

In your crusade of being his metaphorical umbrella in the harshest storms raining from above, you had neglected to notice the muddy puddles below, leading him right into them while he faithfully believed in you. 

Those kids might have been calling Tendou a monster, but now? The title seemed to be more fitting for you. You had to fix this. You had to bring that smile back. You were the only one who could bring back the sun from the dreary raincloud that hung over the both of you.

“Tori, baby... look at me.”

After what seemed like eons, teary brown eyes met (e/c) ones. You wondered how it was possible for them to look so shiny, and yet so subdued at the same time. There were originally so many apologies and words running through your head that you had planned, each one thought out carefully enough to make Tendou proud. You wanted to tell him all of it, while putting some sense of comfort in knowing that you were trying to express your feelings with words (and not impulsive actions) that you pondered. That you came up with. That you considered before speaking, for once in your life.

But as soon as you made eye contact, they disappeared into thin air. Every mentally rehearsed statement, gone. So  you rested your forehead against his in a silent apology. Words would fail you, and as much as you wanted to be just as eloquent as Tendou, the small gesture seemed to do more than a million I’m sorry’s ever could.

So the pair of you sat on the stretcher in a silence that seemed much less suffocating now, forehead to forehead, and kissing away tears.

After several minutes had passed, Tendou leaned into your hand some more, and turned to lay a kiss into your palm. 

Now it was your turn to tear up a little. After seeing firsthand the kind of harassment your boyfriend went through on a daily basis, you knew you had to be strong for his sake. The reasonable part of you told you to not pick a fight with certain people, no matter what. That there was no shame in taking the high road. But then you’d remember all the times he’d come home dejected and hurt, and the indignation that came with people so casually dragging his name through the mud, having no idea just how much words hurt. 

Being “his protector” was taxing, and you realized that, while you’d do everything in your power to keep that smile on his face, sometimes you needed to let him be there for you too. As equals.

The tears were now dried up, no words needed as the walls of the tiny ambulance began to feel less restricting. Much like a sun shower, it wasn’t completely better yet, but it was obvious things were on the mend, at the very least. There was always a short window of time during a rainstorm where the sun would peek out, despite the last few drops of rain not disappearing completely. Moments like these- where the sadness was still lingering, but took a backseat to make room for relief, bittersweetness, and love- were where a rainbow would shine through. This purgatory was beautiful, yet ephemeral, and if you didn’t embrace it quickly enough it would fade away.

And with that, Tendou took a page out of your book and kissed you sweetly. It took you by surprise at first, but before too long you were melting into it. Vulnerable, but filled with a new kind of strength.

Pulling away as you remembered the ambulance doors were still half open, you attempted to reach to pull them shut. Alas, Tendou was a master at reading people, but most especially you, and you two were closed off from the rest of the world with a satisfying click.

Using this window of opportunity where his guard was down, you pulled him back down to your level for a longer, steamier kiss as you card your hand through his hair. You could almost feel him smirking against you, and in that moment you knew your sunshine was here to stay. After a few moments of shared breaths, mingling tongues and wandering hands, you finally separated and took in his dishelved appearance. Although, you were certain you didn’t look much better.

“I know I’m not as good with words as you are, but I’d love to apologize properly...maybe with actions?” 

His eyes softened, lifting both of your bandaged hands in his to his lips as he tenderly kissed your bruised knuckles.

“I’d like that.”

.

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#bug mom writes #tendou satori #tendou x reader #gn reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #anime #fluff

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Hunting Dogs: Chapter Seven (proxies x reader)

Age was nothing but a number to them and most, if not, all the time it meant nothing. Like part of the human race, you can die at any moment but you take precautions and you try not to be a dumbass and take care of yourself and you'll be fine. Every year was celebrated with a birthday, announcing that you were still alive to your loved ones.

But when you're a proxy, there is nothing to celebrate. If there was, it was just to get by another day. They didn't live life by miles and those are limitless and no one knows when those miles will stop. For proxies, if you reached the age of 25, it was like a big deal in a way that not many men got to see or get to. Yes, in the mansion there are countless beings older than such, but there was less pressure as there was on these three men.

It was complete hell for Hoodie and Masky when they first started as Slender thought he would need to test every aspect of them in anyway he could, even if that meant putting them near death. But, they are over the age of 25. Although, don't be a complete idiot if you think that makes them safer. It doesn't. It just means they got past a milestone that a great percentage didn't have the opportunity to get to. Toby was the youngest out of them, 23, almost 24. But hell, no great being like a Slenderman could threaten to ruin his life when the damn boy does it to himself everyday. The only difference is that He could make it the ultimate ending and act like Toby never existed and he would expect the same from others.

So, in ways the three men relationship was complicated, much like a Zeppelin Bend, when they worked together they were stable, so tight-knit that they knew each other's next move, thoughts, feelings.etc., they could be stable when they wanted to and be the scariest goddamn creatures ever known to man. But, if something was in the way or their thoughts didn't link together, the connection between all three was nonexistent. Like it wasn't bad enough that after a good day and a mission completed, they would cut the cord so fucking quick and lash out, becoming blood thirsty monsters that just wanted each other dead.

And who could blame them? The stress of them job mixed in with their emotions, the need to survive, and whether or not a mission was high-impact or not they were expected and felt the need to have the right. And you wanna know what their treat was for not fucking up? Not a nice dinner, no hot baths with bubbles, no 'here take a day or two to rest' or any bullshit like that. It was, Congratulations! You get to live another day! Now go back to your dim lit rooms with just a desk, bed, nightstand and closet, that half the time it looks like they had nothing to themselves. Whatever they had, they could fit in a backpack, but what was the point of personalizing a room to your liking for your own self expression when there was a chance you could be gone and hell... they didn't even know who they were, self identity  was a crucial factor here.

Sure, they may remember bits and pieces of what they like or, rather, what they thought they liked, but it was all blurry and covered in smudges, like imagine going to see ophthalmologist and instead of having you look through lens to correct your vision, it's worse and it's covered in black shit, yeah, that was basically they're mind. Amnesia though was the worst for Masky, but not like it was new to him at all. he suffered through it during his childhood and teenage years up till now. Hoodie just stopped caring even though he does miss his life in college and he became so invested in his study of Psychology and maybe that's something that comes in handy with this job, studying emotions, body language, and movement from a person or anything to be honest,  the best course of action, why someone may be acting a certain way(most of this thought goes towards Toby) Masky lets himself be easy to read, even with the mask, nothing could hide an animal like him...unless sedated. Although, Hoodie does remember Alex and how he was no longer Brian..okay well, he was Brian, but...not the same.

It's life, going through life lessons and you're in the process of character development, it was like that but it happened so quick for him that he was like a switch, he doesn't remember the last time he felt 'normal'.

Now, Toby. It was like a slow boil, adding in ingredients, not following recipe and wondering what was gonna be created. So much had happened to him with bullies, his step dad and whoever else wanted to get on his nerves. He didn't have much but Lyra and that was pretty much all he remembers now. Bits and pieces of his past, only just enough to make sense of why he should be grateful for Slender and why Toby has taken this position among the proxies. But he didn't mind it so much, why the fuck would he want to remember his past- apart from Lyra. Yeah, sure it hurt and feels like there is a piece of him missing all the time, but, at least there was a reason for him being so unhinged.

"Wake up, Tobs." Hoodie says, kicking the edge of the mattress a little, trying to stir Toby awake with his best ability to not also make him upset. If there was one thing that he could agree with Masky on, it's that Toby becomes the biggest dick ever when forced to wake up- that or he's whiny. He got no response back from Toby and he sighs, kicking again, but again, no response. "Dammit...Masky, did you force the sleeping pills down his throat?' He growls, looking over his shoulder at Masky who was leaning against the wall by the door.

"And have the possibility of me having to carry him around like a limp dick that he is? No thanks. Maybe he just hasn't gotten enough sleep lately." he shrugs. Hoodie sighs, nodding as he looks down at Toby, who as he was an active sleeper, his legs were tangled up in the blankets, pillow tossed over his face, his body angled in a weird way and the bed sheets were pulled off.

"NO!" he suddenly shot up, the pillow flying and his eyes widened and like he was out of his mind, psychotic almost, but Hoodie knew better. He rushes over as the younger one breathes heavily, cold sweat breaking around his skin as he starts to shake.  Hoodie sits near his legs, making sure to get in his line of vision. He doesn't snap or touch him as that would trigger Toby and it's not a good thing to snap someone out of an episode like this. "Hey, hey.. It's okay, You're safe." Hoodie says softly, moving his gloves hands in different motions and directions, making Toby focus in and follow them. "Breathe, inhale...1..2..3...hold...1...2..3..4 exhale." he continues this for a few more minutes until he knows that Toby's breathing was back to normal and was blinking, looking around at his surroundings, bringing himself back to reality.

"T-thanks. " He mumbles, he hates having to get help over something he should know how to deal with already. He's had these fucking nightmares for years and yet, they always feel like the first time and remain fresh on his mind until he snaps out of it. Masky swallows thickly, watching the two with mild interest before noticing the change outside. "It's not raining anymore." he says, making the other two look at the nearest window and nod, agreeing. "Let's get back to the mansion. Grab the things we need and see if BEN can figure anything with the girl." He says, standing up slowly from the bed as his back still hurts from when he fell off the ledge. He recovered mostly, thanks to Slender but his spine did give him a hard time whenever he had to bend a certain way. He use to be the type of sleeper to be on his back, but after the injury he had to figure out another way to sleep.

The men got situated, tightening their shoes and securing their items. Medication check, gun and bullets check, making sure they didn't leave anything behind of theirs or something that they may have missed in the apartment before leaving.

It was still chilly and their clothes were damp, but it was better than nothing and they were sure they spotted a laundry mat a few blocks down. Masky collected some quarters around the house so, at least they could get their hoodies warm and dry. After that, they made their way to the mansion.

"I don't know ma, I already paid for the room so I might as well use it." your mom called you this morning, wanting to visit you or vice versa. She thought that you could use a little break from working so hard and being 'so alone' at your place. Which, you appreciate the thought and could definitely get away from all the bullshit that was happening, but you were scared to go back to your apartment and pack what you needed. Plus, you didn't know if the men were there and just waiting for you. The thought makes goosebumps spread over your arms and neck, rubbing it nervously as you were forming an ache from the cheap bed. "I know, honey, but here, I can pay you the money you spent and take you out. It's been a very long time since I've seen you and I miss you sooooo much." you couldn't help but smile at that. Who could say no to getting paid for the money they wasted, getting spoiled and whatever else would happen.

For fucks sake, it wouldn't hurt you and you wouldn't have to think about being hunted and feeling like you can't close your eyes for even a few hours of sleep. "Okay, well, you know I don't have a car-"

"I'll pick you up. Just give me the address again and I'll be there in a few hours, mama had lots of coffee." she giggles, making you shake your head as she was a bit hyper when she has more than three cups of coffee. "Alright, just be careful. I'll text you the address." you say, stuffing items back into your bag and grabbing your keys and wallet, letting your pockets swallow them. "Okay, bye, love you." she says and you say the same, hanging up.

You blow out a breath, making your bangs lift up a little as you muster enough courage, picking up the bag and leaving the hotel room.

Please let things go back to normal.

#Hunting Dogs #HuntingDogs #proxies x reader #creepypasta x reader #cp headcanons

[unremarkable-house]

Polaris by unremarkable_house

The X-Files, MSR, Rain King

Mulder and Scully attend Holman and Sheila's wedding in Kroner, Kansas.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Part One: Mulder and Holman

“Platonic intimacy is the foundation of my relationship with Agent Scully, Holman, and risking physical intimacy affects both parties. I don’t want to take that risk unless we are both willing.” There is a condensation of intent that settles around the patio of the Kroner Prairie View Ballroom and Suites where Fox Mulder and Holman Hardt - weatherman, meteorologic anomaly, crack relationship analyst, and now very newlywed - share their conversation during a small break in the matrimonial festivities.

It is also something Mulder has never admitted out loud, his desire for something more, and he feels the uncomfortable humidity of it fill the blissfully mild Kansas air. Holman has made it vexingly clear that he expects him to dish on the so-called Mulder-and-Scully-relationship while the blushing bride and redheaded FBI agent were otherwise occupied. Apparently, he and his buddy the weather wizard had a special affinity for these kinds of chats.

“Are you really worried that you wouldn’t be compatible in bed with someone who looks like your partner?” Holman is projecting a bit of his newfound sexual confidence with Sheila, but he doubts he’d have any trouble if Agent Scully came to bed instead. Or both. Holman’s eyebrow quirks appreciatively.

Mulder is not worried about his level of attraction to his long-suffering and comely partner, he does get to look at her every day after all, but he is worried that the weight of their traumas could make the next level of intimacy challenging. He didn’t need a degree in psychology from Oxford to figure that out, he need look no further than his own baffling sexual history. Plus, he knows how much energy she puts into maintaining their professional distance, especially since Antarctica. And Diana. As always, part of how he shows her he cares is by respecting that.

“There is something to be said about the fact that it’s been six years and no one has even mentioned sex. With each other or otherwise. Maybe she’s just not that into me.” He shrugs, also thinking that really isn’t the case. Although it had been not-so-helpfully suggested by a Gunman or two before. As if any of them had any real experience with women outside of chat rooms and computer labs.

Because Scully hasn’t left him either. Hasn’t ever expressed an interest in a life outside the X-Files. Hasn’t ever, ever let him down. She stands entirely too close to him on elevators and drinks from his coffee cup when she’s in a rush. She waits up for him in the middle of the night, she lets him watch her sleep. She rises like the Phoenix time and time again. She touches the stars and toils in the basement. And she kissed him on Tuesday.

Though she would be seriously perturbed if she heard him acknowledge any of that out loud. Especially that last part.

But he was allowed to acknowledge it, right? He had to, or else they were never going to get past this bizarre phase where their relationship was even a secret to themselves. Will they or won’t they? Are they or aren’t they? Damned if he knew.

They didn’t even have the X-Files anymore. The entire pretext for their relationship hovered over the razor’s edge, completely unprepared for Salt Lake Cities and Diana Fowleys and meaningless days spent tracking down literal piles of shit. He made it clear he wasn’t ready to handle anything personal and then they RSVP’d to a wedding together.

Polaris or utter chaos. Scully had once called him unfathomably capricious.

“Yea, but don’t you want to just take her in your arms and kiss her?”

Holman’s aggressively simple advice is reflective of a man who got everything he wanted. Easy words from someone who finally found safe harbor.

Three months ago, he was offering Holman dating advice. Now Holman was freshly married and all Mulder’s gotten were a few chaste kisses he wasn’t supposed to think about. Cosmic justice or just complete fucking irony?

Sighing, Mulder looks back through the windows where Holman and Sheila’s wedding reception is just getting into full swing. Dazzling lights, disco balls, even a few novelty lasers spin dizzily over the guests as they start feeling the liquor and therefore, the groove. Scully is in there somewhere and his eyes scan for her instinctively, but he doesn’t see her red hair in the crowd. She must still be in the bathroom or surely she would come to find him out here, right? Mulder couldn’t believe the amount of insecurity he had been feeling since she came out in that dress and asked him to help her zip up the back. He needed a drink, big time.

“It’s not just about kissing her -” Above them, the full moon is in dazzling brilliance. Not a cloud in the sky, not a hint of chill in the breeze, downright perfect humidity. On Holman Hardt’s wedding day at the end of April. Figures. “I don’t sit around and pine for Scully the way you did for Sheila. We are in a relationship, have been for years, I guess. We are not just partners, I know that. And not just friends. But it’s about being with her all the time - forever - I think. I want to keep that possibility alive.”

At whatever the cost, he doesn’t add, an onslaught of near-misses hurtling past them like a vengeful comet wrought by some dissatisfied god. The weight of the knowledge that he would follow her anywhere - and she, him - whether they liked it or not. Something that was beyond what a ring or social status could ever symbolize, objectively speaking.

It was as simple as wanting Scully like air to breathe, simple as obeying the laws of gravity. A purely biological necessity. No need to complicate things. And no need to scare her off by being as lousy a lover as he was a friend. If all she ever needed from him were chaste yet unforgettable kisses, he would be honored to provide. Ad infinitum, if that’s what it took to keep her in orbit. No need to define the bonds that connect them. Just the need to stay connected.

A light in the sky from which he could chart his course.

Mulder looked hungrily back into the pulsating throng behind him, seeking his personal universal invariant. As much as he wanted her to return so he could end this candid and hyper-intimate conversation, he especially did not want her to overhear how pathetically punch-drunk he was after just the smallest morsels of her affection. He was supposed to remain coolly and Mulder-ish-ly aloof. It was part of their unspoken agreement for partaking on this exclusive jaunt they had both surreptitiously cashed in their vacation days for.

“I’ve kissed her a couple of times, though.” Except for that, of course. Holman gives him a high five. Then he says in the wistful way he’s been saying everything tonight:

“You know, I’ve been in love with Sheila since I was in high school; I was completely infatuated.” Mulder knows, but not really. Who could be in love with someone with a voice like that? Who consistently kicked you under the rug to date the people you detested the most? To him, the sexiest thing about Scully was that she willingly spent time with him. That and she smelled like a secret garden and her skin was as soft as a petal. His own luscious Atropa belladonna; look but don’t touch. It was a fitting match considering his life was rotely defined by his personal, unattainable longings.

“I think it's different, Holman. I love Agent Scully--” more of that condensation settles. “I have for a long time. As a friend first. But I'm not lovesick. I'm not…” he trails off because to say he’s not also in love with Scully isn't the whole truth. But it’s not the same. “I'm still working on being in love with her in a way that is most fair for her. For us.” He looks up into the starry night and grips the edge of the stone wall that he is perched on. “I tend to be a bit overbearing and unpredictable.”

And incomprehensible and dog-headed and nebulous and borderline unreliable - but he’s not really interested in listing all the ways he’s failed Scully or why he knows he’s badbadbad for her. The reasons why she shouldn’t be wearing a short navy blue dress at a private and completely voluntary event with him tonight. Why he should have done the gentlemanly thing years ago and convinced her to get out and save her reputation, to save herself from a lifetime of pain. Should have resisted the tender, irresistible way she always pulled him back to her. Should not have RSVP'd to this damn wedding, at least.

Instead, he spirited her away from the world living into the world of the half-dead and always searching.

Then again he’d probably be dead ten times over, considering the numerous occasions she’d saved his ass over the years. But life without Scully would be a fate worse than death.

He’s seeding the rain cloud, he knows. These are the kinds of words phrased in such a way that he’s been avoiding admitting - let alone thinking - for years. It’s admissions like these to people like Holman that will force him to pay the piper. He envisions Holman and Sheila forcing them to slow dance beneath the dizzy lights to Fools Rush In. He’d prefer a Whiter Shade of Pale, himself. Something a bit more subtle.

“Loving someone isn’t about being fair, Agent Mulder. My life has basically been at a standstill until I finally got my chance to be with Sheila. I wasn’t willing to move forward with any decision in my life if it meant missing a chance I might have with her. I accepted a job in the same town I grew up in, for Chrissake, because she was here! And yes, there were times when I resented the fact that she refused to see me as more than a friend and instead chased after the people I liked the least.

I have a few buddies from high school who got pretty sick of my laments for a woman - who you will probably agree - is completely out of my league.” Mulder resists reacting, different strokes and all. “The fairest route would have been to save myself the drama of Sheila’s many romantic interludes and settle down with someone else - you might not know it but I’m quite the catch in a small town like this - but I was determined to wait until it was my turn. Now those same guys from high school are here dancing at our wedding!

Look at me! I’m married to the most beautiful woman in Kroner! In all of Kansas, probably! And we are already talking about starting our family right away!”

Holman, glowing with pride like the light of the moon with his arms outstretched, has a nostalgic, faraway look on his face, back to his days as the awkward teen in love with the prom queen. Indeed, Holman had received his just rewards for patience, diligence, and the honor of a respectable life.

Scully is his reward too, Mulder knows. Has always known, since the day she walked back into his basement office after spending thirty-six hours hiding in the rain forests of Puerto Rico with no food or water and scared to death that the kill squads were going to find them and use extreme force. He was constantly falling in love with the versions of herself that she shed with each tragedy - always a moment too late. Always under her sharp and disapproving eye. She wore her newfound vulnerabilities with a sign that read: “Danger, Stay Back”. That she refused to be worshipped just made her easier to love. He’d had no clue dignity was such a turn on.

Mulder was just worried he hadn't paid his dues with such noble qualities as Holman’s. His many wrongdoings play with a sad soundtrack in his head, as sad as the desperate way she always looks at him when they’ve cheated death yet again. She had been particularly unzipped by his recent near-drowning and nick-of-time rescue in the Plantagenet Bay. The Gunmen published it in their quarterly and referred to Scully as the Babe of the Bermuda Triangle. He still felt kinda bad about that one.

Was it just Mulder or was the moon shining a little more brightly right now?

“One of the best days of my life was when Sheila started working at the station.” Holman gets another dreamy look upon his face as he recalls the day. Mulder remembers too, it was chronicled in the local paper. That and a portfolio of other newsworthy weather events Holman was responsible for sat neatly collated within his X-Files. And now including their invitation to the blessed Hardt-Fontaine nuptials. It wasn’t every day he got to hang out with one of the curiosities from his wonder cabinet.

Unless he counted Scully which he explicitly and vociferously did not.

“May 11, 1992: residents of Kroner, Kansas, report witnessing a rare quadruple rainbow,” He recites.

Mulder has a similar best day of his life, but he doesn’t recall any meteorological event that marked the moment. It wasn’t even a full moon. Just a regular March afternoon that he had been antipathetic about.

Holman grins. “Some reported seeing a fifth arc as well, but it was never substantiated.” Then his face grows cloudy. “That same day, while we were catching up, was when she told me she was moving in with Darryl Moody and that they were ‘engaged to be engaged.’” He spits the last words out like venom. And that would explain the subsequent supercell lightning storm that knocked Kroner off the grid for three days (also in his files).

“She just wanted to be friends,” he bemoans before becoming annoyingly cheerful again, “but being her friend was the next best thing because here we are! Sheila recently told me that the best relationships are rooted in friendship so if that’s what it took to get here, I wouldn’t change a day.”

Mulder, dipping his chin to his chest, was appalled he found that so pathetically endearing. And a little bit wounding. Were he and Scully not rooted in friendship? For someone who was so quick to believe, he knew he was certainly wanting for a little more faith in the matter. Because here we are, he thinks, together, in other lifetimes, always.

In this particular lifetime in Kansas, there might be drinks and dancing and more than one excuse to touch her companionably and then maybe a little more familiarly, as soon as she finished up inside and he could end this awkward conversation with the groom.

“Don’t let some bad luck cramp your style, Agent Mulder,” Holman says, reaching the end of his proselytizing. “The future will be as bright as you make it.”

Following Holman’s gaze up into the night sky, Mulder finds that the heavens are now alight with the ethereal trails of meteors, dainty and otherworldly, glittering their way across the universe.

Mulder sighs again, equally entranced by and indifferent to Holman’s bizarre skills. “Easy for you to say, Holman.” But Holman just laughs the contented and mirthful laugh of a man in love. To him, everything is limitless: life, love, the weather, and now the entire galaxy.

And though there was once a time where Mulder would have imprudently coveted the ability to touch the unthinkable like Holman Hardt, tonight he is content to reach only one star.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564760

Notes:

WIP, I hope. There should be a chapter for Scully + Sheila and another for Mulder + Scully. Fingers crossed! Mad love to my favorite fanfiction of all time, Parabiosis by Penumbra. This story includes some loving references to that masterpiece. Made with the utmost respect. Thanks for reading.

#if you read this #THANK YOU!!! #xf fanfic #the x files #msr

[dcuniverse-fanatic]

between dawn and dusk

Pairing: Tim Drake// female!reader

A/n: Here’s a bit of delayed writing!. The time does skip here a bit. It goes back and fourth between the reader’s memories and the present. Not very edited, i just wanted to get it out of my drafts, I've been pushing it back a lot, the ending is a bit rushed? i think? but oh well.

warnings:  Drinking, hint of sex occurring.

word count: a little over 2k

Your head was spinning in funny shapes, twisting and spiraling around you like a dull kaleidoscope. It had barely dawned on you that the fluorescent nightstand clock wasn’t your own. You had wanted to leave, then. No note, no text. You’re in a hurry, you think. You’re late, you reminisce.

But the look he gives you as he’s standing on the doorway half asleep is worth a King’s ransom. He tells you in facial expression more than he’s told you in words, and you can’t help but avoid his gaze.

The touch of warm ceramic against your cold fingers is familiar, but your thoughts tend to flicker. He’s sat directly across you, his eyes burning a hole in yours, but you’re not looking to check, eyes darting back and forth, occupying your mind. wall, clock, ceiling.

He speaks before you do “why were you leaving. Again” eyes hurt and worrisome.

His face is flushed, laced with confusion. He’s half drunk and he can’t seem to grasp what you both did earlier shouldn’t have happened. (you don't regret it, though, because you wouldn’t have wanted anything different from occurring)

-

The bar was empty, carrying a thick vibe of stray old men; gloomy and dark. Your heart is beating loud and vicious in your throat. He shouldn’t have been able to find you this quick. (you went to great lengths make sure he shouldn’t have been able to)

You should’ve left. You should’ve collected yourself and paid your tab and left but the bell chimes strident from the door and your heart drops to your stomach. You had managed a quaint smile, short and void of reasoning.

Meeting your childhood friend for the first time since his becoming of robin was unearthly, it was certainly unusual, but it felt like home and a part of you was welcomed, Like warm butter on toast.

You’ve wanted this for an eternity, you've wanted to explain why you up and left the like wind almost 8 years ago, and why you’ve been declining his calls. but you’ve past that moment. He’s talking about his siblings now; you’re watching his mouth move and contort but you can tell he’s just filling silence from your evident lacking in participation.

It’s been hard without you, it’s been sad. Lonely without you.

Timothy Drake - Wayne. Words have since failed to describe the love you carry for that man, Heart heavy and thick with enamor; pumping out nothing but fondness for him. You would do anything for him- in a heartbeat; you’d breathe for the boy if you could.

But in foolishly thinking he’s been returning those feelings, you wound up in the same barbarous, destructive cycle of self doubt. He’s talked an awful lot about Stephanie (in whom you see the attraction, if you were being honest) and It quite literally makes your skin shrivel with contempt, it reprimands you of your own shortcomings.

So, leaving town was nothing but your supposed lack of wanderlust- your skipping town was never (ever) a sentiment of escape.

“So, how’ve you been?” You lift your head up, and steady your arm because it was falling asleep.

” ah, you know how it is” (he doesn’t) he still nods and sips his mug. Jamaican, you summon up. His favorite. He looks at you funny.

He looks at you like you’re the entire universe and he’s lucky. Your skin thrums and you deliquesce. The smile he gives you is brief, but by god’s grace is it a heavy load off your chest. He’s refreshing to look at, you realize. Heart doing multiple somersaults and great acrobatic feats when he looks your direction. You want to feel like this until you die.

-

“Was gonna miss my flight” you breathe, taking a longer sip to stop your mouth from talking.

” You never said you were leaving so soon” he draws out the sentence, long and slow. Each syllable panging at your chest and leaving your ribs battered and bruised.

“Did I have to, Tim?”

He pauses a second too long and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol inebriating him or if he’s in shock. (knowing him, quite honestly, it could’ve been both, maybe)

“No. No, I knew you were leaving, I checked your email. Sorry”

His voice was scratchy and desperate. His eyes were bloodshot red, hair dark and tousled. He looked like a tired college student. And he looks at you like he’s never seen you before.

It’s harsh and piquant, and you resist the urge to run to him and hold him in your arms and run your fingers in his lush hair.

“You uh, you wanna talk about it?” He’s still looking at you, looking into you.

-

Your memories of when you both started drinking were largely imprecise. Starting off with a beer, and then two, and then shots. His eyes were trained on you like a hawk on its prey. You remember him joking about Bruce, and him laughing. His laugh thick like molasses with enamor. His smile was as brilliant as the blue sky.

Still, you couldn't exactly place when you both stumbled outside, leaning onto each other for support. It was pitch black; you recall. A cab was called for the both of you, and you remember the look you both exchanged. It was a fleeting one, but your stomach curdled, and your heart jumped so many times you lost count.

And at the third look, you loosely remember you all but practically lunging at him, and him catching you. And then he kisses you, soft- like sunshine and cotton. He kisses you like he planned to from the start, like it was never an option not to.

The taste of tequila was vivid and sharp on his tongue. His hands roamed what they could in the small space, his actions fast, breathless. He was giving you what you wanted before you could ask for it. Moments lasting decades

His breath fanned warm over your cheeks, his hand caressing the back of your neck.

“I’m so sorry I left” you murmur between jagged breaths of want.

His hands were under your shirt, now, and what were once innocent soft kisses had him trailing his lips up and down your neck, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses, lingering in certain spots to leave bruises and marks for you to find later.

His pace quickens, before you can register it happening. His fingers sending shivers up your spine and back. His mouth trailing the markings he’s left. His movements were swift and slow and agonizing. Like a thousand needles embedding into your skin.

“I’m sorry for letting you”

Hours later, it seems, you reach up his apartments’ door. He can’t decide between deliriously touching you, or opening the door, seemingly doing both tasks at once.

You were clinging to him like he was your lifeline, for every second he’s spent not touching you was torture. His hands were on your thighs as he was fumbling with the door, his actions sloppy and unintentional. Once he gets the door open, he kisses you like he’s been dying to- slow and hard and deep. Your spine finds its way to a wall, his mouth; your neck.

He’s got you cornered now, body hovering about yours, passion, desire, want, tying you both together.

When he lifts your chin up, littering kisses along your jugular, your knees want to give out.

He hoists you up and carries you to the nearest flat surface, not severing contact once. (not even for a breath of air) he kissed you, deeper, touching you more vehemently. He breaks the kiss, breathless, sweaty, and eyes ever so hyper fixed onto yours.

You look like a god awful mess, you just know it. Your hair was tousled and disheveled from the neat braid you had it in. Your lipstick was visible all over his face (pride far from transcended your contempt. Looking at the work you’ve done produced a tight coil in your belly, one that’s unwinding you faster by the minute) And yet still, he looks at you like you’re the seven seas, and he’s conquered it.

“Good, god, I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you”

He cradled your face, his thumbs on either side of your temple, brushing ever so softly. His kisses are getting feverish, but it’s more earnest, like endless flowing honey. He’s fumbling with your zipper, your hands find their way to his hair like destiny, like they belonged there.

“Do you want me to keep going”

His talking was reduced to a mumble, leaving room for panting. His swollen lips were a sight for sore eyes.

“Yes. Please. Yes”

In between breaths, you start to realize how much you’ve wanted this. How much this felt right.

Like you've pulled all the perfect pieces of the perfect puzzle together and they perfectly fit. They melt together and pool at the bottom of your heart.

-

Falling together was as easy as breathing for you, was as easy as blinking; as effortless as lying in bed with you, skin hot and crimson, flush against one another. Bodies a humming, buzzing mess, riddled lifeless in euphoria.

His arm was sturdy under you neck, noses mere millimeters apart, eyes centralized. You hadn’t been bothered to know what the state of your legs looked like, the contact easily satisfying you, and falling asleep was once again, just as easy.

-

“It just shouldn’t have happened Tim.” Your coffee was empty, and You lost track of how long it’s been gone. His face grows blank.

“What do you mean? Did you- did you not enjoy it or something, was it something I did?” His saddened expression was swapped with one of worry and concern, a divot appearing in between his brows.

He looked up to see you snickering, your head tilted back with your arm on your forehead. He smiled, then, more and more perplexed with your budding mirth. His grin grows, more with bafflement than anything, really. He gives a few quick breathy chortles before he joins your fit, guffaws filling your encounter.

“No, dummy. I mean I’m in love with you. Sleeping with you won’t make me forget about you.”

You mild back down, grounded by your confession, shifting under his gaze. His mouth was half curled up, slightly parted, eyes a lesser red hue than it was before.

“Why would you wanna forget? “You know” he starts, “you never once asked me how I felt about you” He pauses to sip more coffee, “Although I told you plenty last night”

Your skin starts to turn a bashful red hot color- running a bazillion degrees under the borrowed shirt you’re wearing. The fire that creeps up your neck and ears leaves you insurmountably small, making you hunch in on yourself. You’re at loss for words, mouth left gaping and thoughts incoherent. Half of you wants to hide- forever, and the other half isn’t that far behind. The expression plastered on his face was still smug, eyes wishful and frugal. 

He cuts eye contact with you “Is it weird that I’m turned on right now?”

“Considering that we’re just sitting down and drinking coffee? Yes. Very” You snort. 

The laugh that he breaks makes your entire body vibrate with delight. There’s something satisfying in making him laugh, some sort of personal victory you take home with you and keep in a jar.  You rarely get to see him like this, so vulnerable and open and free. You want to see him like this always, you think. 

“hey” 

“hm?” 

“stay”

The crackle of his voice as it shifts from a playful tone to an intimate one makes your heart rattle in your chest. The ache of it all is something you want to wrap yourself up in and collapse. The corner of his lips twitch slightly in an attempt to stop him from grinning like an idiot, but he’s buzzing with nervousness.

“Only on one condition”

“Anything”

“ you stay too”

#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake fluff #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #Damian Wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #batfam x reader #batfam #dc

[alluringoneirataxia]

Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened.  Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.

#asd #autisminwomen #autism #actuallyautistic #aspie #aspie memes

[danetobelieve]

Weeb Night Two Electric Boogaloo || Rio, Skylar and Winston

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Timing: the evening of the 17th of June

Tagging: @3starsquinn​, @theskyeandsea​ & @danetobelieve​

Description: The gang has weeb night two, Rio and Winston get progressively more awkward as the night goes on. 

Warnings: N/A

Winston would say that uncomfortable was an understatement. It wasn’t that they regretted kissing Orion. Quite the opposite. If anything they wished that they had been able to keep kissing him. But things hadn’t gone that way and Orion had gone in search of a toilet and Winston feeling supremely awkward and slightly rejected had ghosted. Probably not the best move but in their defence they had been very drunk. They’d asked one of Todd’s friends to make sure that they got home okay and everything and they’d waited up in their room to make sure that they heard the door close behind them just across the landing. They’d finally collapsed into bed before eventually waking up with their face stuck to a floorboard. Honestly, they were impressed they’d fallen out of bed without waking up. But as they looked at the front door to Skylar’s place with snacks in hand they wished that they were a better liar. If this hadn’t been pre-planned they’d have said they had to work. But if they tried to lie now they’d just upset someone and they could deal with awkward … right? Swallowing, Winston raised their hand and knocked on Skylar’s door. They were armed with drinks and snacks. “Hey, thanks for having this again, it’s been too long since I’ve got to do something normal like watch anime with friends.” 

While the immediate effects of bliss had faded, Skylar was still ecstatic at the prospect of having Winston and Rio over for their first anime night at her new home. There was so much more space in this house and… even though it felt odd, not having Nic there, it was still nice in other regards. She had space to store all her Pop! Figures and plushes, Dundee was growing on her (kind of like a weed, mostly because he followed her everywhere), and when Nic was here, the house felt like a home. But, it had gotten a bit lonely without him here. Which is why she was happy to have Winston and Rio over! As she checked the fridge to make sure there were a few beers in there for Winston, Skylar saw Dundee skitter past her towards the door. That must be one of them-- shutting the fridge, she hurried to the door and gently nudged Dundee out of the way. “Hey Winston!” She said with a bright smile. “Of course, I’m really glad that we could do this. I’ve been wanting to have you over for a while, but things got busy…” She shrugged before looking behind them, curious. “Did you and Rio come separately?”

Orion had been so excited for their revamped anime night. Things had all finally been good and fixed. Skylar seemed to have forgiven Rio and the two were friends again . Rio and Winston were best of friends, a far jump from when they had first met each other the last anime night. It was like things had come full circle. But of course, Rio couldn’t handle something like that without screwing it up. Things hadn’t been the same since the End of the World party. Just as Rio had feared, the world did not end that night. So instead he woke up the next morning, hungover and terrified that his friendship with Winston had been ruined forever. Maybe worse than that, the two had decidedly not talked about as if the kiss (er-kisses) had never even happened. At this point, Rio was way too nervous about it to bring it up. Now, it was anime night. It really had been full circle, all the way back to Rio being the root of why their time tonight would be awkward. Of course, Rio and Winston came separately but practically arrived at the same time, so Rio shoved himself into the trees to avoid the weirdness of walking up to the door at the same time. He didn’t know how he would handle the alone time with them while they waited for Skylar to answer the door. So he sat, huddled in the woods until Winston and Skylar had disappeared into her ridiculously big and beautiful home and he was able to calm his nerves enough to complete the trek to the front door. He knocked against it, each one sending his stomachs into a fit of stress. “Oh uh, hey!” Rio plastered on a smile and gave a small wave when the door was answered.

Winston decided that they liked Nic’s place. They had thought that they had been lucky to land a place like what Ricky had. But this was something completely different. “Of course, things definitely got really hectic for a minute there but now that me and … Rio have helped solve everything we should be able to chill out a bit. At least I hope so.” Winston stepped into the giant home and looked around slightly awe struck. Maybe Winston would have to reconsider being a hunter as a profession, although they were not actually sure that was what Nic did. Honestly they hadn’t considered that arriving separately might be weird. Lying on the spot was never an attractive option for Winston when they knew they were so bad at it. “I uh - came from work, I guess Rio was at the house before coming over but I had to work later then I thought so I couldn’t get him, I mean I couldn’t bring him with me because I was at work and he wasn’t, he- Rio was at home.” The door rapped at the sound of someone knocking and Winston could’ve jumped for joy. “That must be him.” Thank fuck for that.

As Winston spoke, Skylar realized a bit belatedly that the volume on her hearing aids was too low-- she’d gotten used to not wearing them around the house without Nic here. She subtly tucked her hair behind her ear, rolling her thumbs against the dials of her hearing aids to boost the sound so she wasn’t having to rely on lip reading so much. If she’d been paying attention, she might have heard the pause in their words. As it was, it didn’t register. As Winston continued to speak, Skylar eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. Was everything okay? But, before she could question them about their rambling answer, she heard a knock at the door. She turned to open the door, beaming as she opened the door. “Hey, Rio. Good timing, Winston just got here.” She said, signing as she spoke. “Come on in. Dundee, no.” She said as the dog attempted to make a break for the door, catching him with the edge of her foot. “Sorry. I hope you two don’t mind him.” Skylar apologized as she led them inside. “There’s some snacks and drinks in the fridge-- I bought some Mountain Dew for you,” She said with a grin at Rio. She was excited to be able to have just a fun night in together with the two other anime fans in town.

The last time that Orion had seen Skylar was probably when they researched Skylar’s lost voice, and he was super excited to get to see her again. It had been way too long, and despite the rocky start the two got off to, Rio considered her one of his closest friends. Winston too, if Rio could ever move past how awkward it was to leave Winston standing there alone on the dance floor. And to come out of the bathroom afterwards unable to find them anywhere. Rio was convinced that Winston was too drunk to remember the kiss even happened, which Rio desperately hoped was true. “No worries! I love Dundee!” Rio assured Skylar, bending down to attempt to pet the hyper little guy. “Uh hey Winston” Rio waves from afar, “Sorry I uh- had some running to do. At the place with books and stuff. So we couldn’t ride together.” Rio lied, changing subjects quickly after to clap at Skylar’s drink menu. “You’re the greatest thank you so much.” Maybe if he just chugged Mountain Dew all night he wouldn’t be able to talk at all and embarrass himself. “So what are we watching tonight?”

Winston was semi flustered by the arrival of Rio. He looked good. Maybe a bit tired. But then again when did either of them get enough sleep? It felt like they’d spent hundreds of hours working together, either in the library or researching a way to beat squidward. It had only been a few days of avoiding and Winston gave them a quick smile as they moved towards the dog. “Hey dude, glad you got here okay.” Honestly, they weren’t really paying as they also crouched down to scoop up the dog, only to gently knock their head against Orion’s sending their glasses skittering to the floor. “Oh, shit sorry I didn’t… see you.” Winston quickly grabbed their glasses and moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I actually don’t know what we’re watching, did you have a plan Skye or do we want to pick something?” Winston stuffed their mouth full of doritos to avoid speaking anymore. They felt like they’d already done too much to draw attention to themselves. Even if there were only three of them.

“And Dundee loves you too.” Skylar said with a smile as she made her way to the fridge. Neither she or Nic really cared for the little dog, so he was enjoying the attention of the others, “Do you want a beer?” Skylar asked Winston from the fridge as she pulled out a can of Mountain Dew for Rio, setting it on the counter for him. “I don’t normally drink it, but Nic has some that he likes, I’m sure he won’t mind you having one or two.” She nodded. He might have a scowly face and reputation for being the gruff alligator man, but he was honestly a really kind guy. Hearing the sound of clattering against wood flooring, Skylar looked over and was surprised to see Winston grabbing their glasses from the ground and hurrying off to the opposite side of the kitchen. Was something wrong? The house wasn’t too strange, was it? She’d been to Ricky and Winston’s home before, all those months ago and while Nic’s was different, she didn’t think it was too too different. A bit anxious, she held out a beer to Winston. “Um-- I had a couple ideas! There’s this one really cute show on Netflix called Cell’s at Work, I’ve got some Studio Ghibli movies, and Rio got me the director’s edition of A Silent Voice for my birthday, so we could also watch that.” She looked over at Rio with a nod, “Thank you again, I love this movie so much.”

Orion accepted the Mountain Dew from Skylar, still rubbing the spot on his head where it collided with Winston’s. Even with hunter speed, Rio couldn’t get to Winston’s glasses to pick them up for them before Winston had already snatched them and retreated to the opposite end of the kitchen. God, this was the worst. Rio really didn’t know if he could make it without Winston’s friendship now. Not only were they roommates, which meant things could only get more and more awkward if they were forced to live together. But Rio had spent so many nights hysterically laughing with them while fighting the exhaustion that came from their lack of sleep. Rio’s eyes widened at the offer of alcohol and actually breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it wasn’t being offered in his direction. Thank God. Rio should probably just not drink. Ever again. Just to be safe. “Oh those are all great options!” Rio grinned in spite of the awkwardness of the evening. He made a heart symbol with his hands and signed ‘You’re Welcome’ before pointing at Skylar. “I’ve heard Cell’s at Work is good but haven’t seen it yet. I could watch A Silent Voice anytime. But no promises that I won’t cry.” Plus, it gave him more opportunities to practice his signing, which he had gotten pretty good at. “What uh-what are you thinking Winston?” Why did his voice crack every time he said Winston’s name? Jesus, this wasn’t middle school. “I mean about what to watch. Not just like... randomly asking you broadly what you’re thinking about. Which I mean you could totally say. You can say anything. But uh- I was directly referring to what we should watch.” Rio facepalmed himself and tried playing it off as scratching at an itch. Could he get more awkward?

Glancing at the beer that Skylar was offering to them Winston was about to turn her down when they decided that they could actually probably do with one beer. Twelve year old Winston would be so disappointed that they were drinking to avoid their problems. “I can only do one, someone’s got to drive us home.” Winston wasn’t sure what was going on between them and Orion but there was no way that they would make Orion get home without Winston driving them. That was cruel and obvious that there was something wrong. Not that they were doing a very good job of hiding that. “Uh, no don’t worry .. Rio, I mean Orion, you, I …” Winston swallowed, “I understood that you were talking about anime.” God Winston wished they had doritos or popcorn or something that they could eat so that they had more time to think about what they were going to say before they said it. But they’d moved away from the snacks and walking to put food in your mouth was super obvious. Swallowing nervously, Winston nodded. “I like both suggestions, maybe the Netflix one if we’ve all seen Silent Voice before and then if we still want to keep going, then we can or you know if someone has a better suggestion then I’m fine with that. I’ve got Netflix at home so I guess I can watch Cell’s at Work whenever I want.” Winston had been inching towards the bowl of popcorn on the counter and quick handful of it went in their mouth. “Do you want me to carry anything through to … wherever we’re going to watch.” 

Grabbing the packet of beef jerky she’d stashed in the pantry, Skylar popped a piece into her mouth and chewed as she listened to the two of them. There was something… a little weird about what was going on. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like there was some kind of tension? Had they been fighting? Oh no… She hadn’t made things awkward by insisting that they have the anime night? She didn’t want to make things worse for them if they were arguing. Swallowing, Skylar pulled the barn door that separated the kitchen from the living room, with its modern furnishings and large television. “Since none of us have seen Cell’s at Work, we can watch that one? And if we decide we don’t like it, we can keep our options open, okay?” She asked, her voice slightly higher than she meant it to come out. Though the bliss was still running in her veins, she could tell that it’s effects were fading just a bit more every day. The pain lingered at the edges of her mind and her old thoughts were resurfacing, even now. But, she pushed them away, focusing on her two friends instead. “Um, yes, if you want to bring the chips and the popcorn, that’d be great. Rio, can you help them?” She suggested as she began to fiddle with the remote control to the television.

“Cell’s at Work it is! I think this is a great idea. I haven’t started a new anime in forever.” Orion was desperate for some normalcy. Even if things were awkward, once the three started watching the show and got into it, some of that would return. How awkward could things be between Rio and Winston when they weren’t even speaking? Rio didn’t actually know the answer to that, but he was sure it would be less than it was in this kitchen right now. Skylar stepped into the other room to get the TV set up and asked Winston and Rio to grab the food. So the two of them were momentarily alone. Even though Skylar was just feet away, within eye sight of Rio turned his head, that open barn separating them felt like some line of defense being shattered. Rio’s face heated up immediately and he didn’t want to think about how visible the red on his face must be. He sulked over to the snacks, reaching for the popcorn bowl before realizing that Winston was doing the same thing. Rio froze mid-grab and did not move for what felt like a few minutes. He laughed nervously and redirected for the chips only to find that Winston had done the same thing. God, this was absolutely ridiculous. Finally, Rio swiped a few bag of chips and hurried into the room, hoping to gauge where Skylar would be sitting so he could use her as a buffer. He hated this. He hated being so weird around Winston and he hated using Skylar as a shield. It took the focus off of what fun the night was supposed to be. “Welp I’m all settled in and ready to start right now  or uh- when everybody is ready.”

Swallowing back an awkward lump that had crept up their throat, Winston turned to grab the snacks and proceeded to take part in the most annoying dance that they had ever taken part in. Honestly. They went left and Rio went that way too, they went for the pop corn and Rio was there with his hands and then they went for the chips before giving up entirely and watching Rio scamper from the room as if he had done something wrong. They had been about to make a joke about Rio making up his mind but they hadn’t got the courage up to say anything before Rio dashed from the room and honestly at that moment Winston just wished that they could say something to reassure them but now really wasn’t the place and it definitely wasn’t the time. They would have to get through the awkward anime first and then maybe if Winston could build up the courage to address it he might say something. As they stood there in the kitchen alone for a moment, Winston grabbed the snacks and joined them in the living room. Settling into an armchair, Winston placed the bowl of popcorn on their lap and was pleased that this was a good way of avoiding having to obviously not sit next to Rio. “I am all good to get started,” Winston replied with a thumbs up, “I’ve been waiting to watch this for ages … so it should be good.” 

Skylar curled up on one end of the couch with the bag of beef jerky, fully expecting Winston and Rio to join her on the very large cushions. But, when Winston sat on one of the adjacent armchair, she blinked before the oddness of the situation was pushed from her mind. It was nice, this was nice. Even if things were weird and Rio and Winston were fighting… No, she didn’t know that for sure. But, why else would they be acting like this? As the two gave her the greenlight, she nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me! Let’s get started.” Skylar said and watched as a very cute anime girl in all red began to run across the screen, pushing a pallet loader full of sandwiches. As odd as the other two, Skylar couldn’t help but think back to the last anime night they’d had. She’d felt awful, she’d been chugging coffee the entire time and then when Rio had found her skin, it’d only made her feel worse. But right now? Both of them knew what she was and they were still here, sitting next to her. And she wasn’t in any pain, no measurable pain at least. It was nothing she couldn’t ignore. Instead, she focused on the adorable on-screen antics instead. “Aw, the platelets are adorable.” She remarked.

Orion was so relieved when they finally started the show. Even if the show was incredibly boring, Rio was willing to pretend that it was incredibly interesting and groundbreaking if it meant not having to fumble through a conversation where Winston and Rio talked to Skylar and purposely dodged any conversation that dealt with the both of them. Rio just wanted to sink into the couch and disappear from view. Rio just wanted to act normally. Which wasn’t easy to do right now. But it was obvious that Skylar could tell that there was... something going on between the two. And Rio couldn’t argue it. They had been acting like crazy people. “Yeah the art style is really good.” Rio agreed. He was trying so hard to stay completely focused on the show. But he kept finding his eyes roam over towards Winston and Skylar. He just wanted things to be okay. He found his glances lasting longer and long until eventually he was just staring over at Winston. Despite being drunk, Rio had memorized every single marking the group of painters had put on their body. Rio could still picture them, but Rio’s eyes were homed in on Winston’s lips. At least, until Winston must have realized that they were being stared at. Rio practically jumped out of his skin and stared at the screen again. “Wow this voice acting is really good too.”

It was hard to focus on the anime. With everything that they were planning on doing with Bea, with everything that had happened with them narrowly avoiding the end of the world, Winston had to admit that they weren’t really focussed on what was important. They were focussed on the way that Rio’s hair fell around his face. They were focussed on how beautiful his face was, on the way his chest rose and fell as he took breaths. Then they were aware that Rio was staring at them and they had to look away. They were hoping that Skylar wouldn’t have noticed that they were so preoccupied by everything. “This is my favourite thing about anime,” were they talking because they had something to say or just so that they didn’t look like they were being awkward…. “So many amazing ideas that are just imagined via animation, it is really amazing.” 

“It’s like a cute version of Osmosis Jones.” Skylar remarked as she focused on the cartoon on screen. It was easier to watch this than try to muddle through whatever was happening with Winston and Rio, so that’s what she decided to do. It was just simpler this way and felt better than asking them what was wrong. Chewing on a piece of jerky, she nodded along with Winston and Rio’s comments. “Mhm! Yup, agreed on both of those. Like… who would have thought that anime could make learning about… red and white blood cells interesting?” She commented. As she spoke, Skylar ran her palms ambiently along the material of the couch. It was so soft. It felt really nice against her skin, fuzzy. Focusing on that feeling, still basking in the joy of being able to have a fun night like this, Skylar continued to watch the show.

It felt like the three were just talking about random, unimportant things just because they thought that they needed to be talking to each other. They had buzzwords. Basic, surface level things that they would have said to a stranger that was watching the same show. So why were the three of them, who were good friends and had been through so much together, talking about such shallow things? Obviously, Orion knew that he was the one to blame. He just wished he hadn’t been so stupid. “I uh- I heard that it’s actually pretty accurate too.” Rio interjected, happy to provide some sort of dialogue, “I mean of course it’s over dramatized and stuff. But I’ve heard the creator of the manga did a lot of prior research and had help to make it as medically accurate as possible.”

The tension in the air just felt wrong, Winston couldn’t help but hate it. Skylar and Rio, Winston had individually and collectively been through so much with both of them. They were some of their closest friends and because of their idiocy they had of course made things awkward. Forcing themselves to relax slightly, Winston chewed through a mouthful of popcorn before turning. “Hey, I know things have been kind of … well they’ve really sucked recently. For all three of us, but I’m really glad that we could do this again. There’s no one else that I would rather be with tonight then the two of you watching this. Which, is really awesome by the way, this was a really good choice.” 

Skylar didn’t immediately pick up on Winston or Rio speaking, too caught up in the animated characters to register that they were saying things. “That’s really cool that they did that sort of research!” She nodded enthusiastically as she continued to watch. At Winston’s words, her smile only grew. It was really nice for them to do this. And she was really, really happy that they were here. There wasn’t much that could make this better, honestly. Maybe if Remmy was here, or Shiloh, or Ricky, or Morgan, or Nic, or any number of the other people in her life who were going through some rough times. But, this was still good. Rio and Winston were some of the best people she knew and it just felt nice to be around them again. “For sure! I’m glad that we could do this too, I’m really happy you both came.” She beamed. “And I’m glad you like the show.”

Hearing them, it almost made all the anxiety that Orion was feeling go away. Even if things were weird and sort of messy right now at least they all still cared for each other. That was the important thing, right? That they were all friends and got to do anime nights like this? Growing up, it was all Rio had ever really wanted. Friendship. Maybe Rio didn’t want to pretend the kiss never happened. Because he knew how he felt about Winston. But… things apparently weren’t meant to be like that. Rio had ruined everything or Winston didn’t feel the same way or… the specifics didn’t really matter. As long as he could try to forget and move on so things could go back to how they were a few weeks ago. “Me too. Uh- Ditto on all that. You’re both the best. I can’t believe that I actually have friends to watch anime with. It’s weird to think about but I’m really happy. Regardless of anything else going on.”

Frowning gently, Winston settled down and glanced in Rio and Skylar’s direction. Except for the first time in the evening their not so subtle glance had not been directed at Orion. But Skylar. They’d noticed that she had seemed a little bit out of sorts. When they’d been messaging the other night and even today, it wasn’t that she didn’t seem like Skylar, she just seemed so much more joyful then they had ever seen them. Which was absolutely not a bad thing, but it seemed a little odd. “I don’t get how someone came up with the idea of teaching us about Cells and how they work via the magic of anime.” Winston popped a kernel of pop corn in their mouth and crunched through it. 

“It’s really, really nice.” Skylar agreed with Rio, bobbing her head emphatically. She’d never thought that she would meet people this nice, this good, or this fun to hang out with when she moved to White Crest. But, here she was, in a big giant house with an amazing roommate and wonderful friends, watching a cute new anime and just having fun. It felt good to have fun. Laughing at Winston’s comment, she nodded. “Right? Some people are just super creative. I never would have thought to do something like this at all.” She said with another nod.

Things seemed marginally less awkward now. Orion kept noticing his eyes drift over to Winston but overall, the show was good enough that it worked well to keep his attention focused. Thank god, considering how terrible things could have been if they had decided to do something other than quietly watch a show. Trying to imagine the awkwardness of a board game or just dinner with friends made Rio cringe. But the three just had a fairly normal conversation. Rio and Winston spoke in the same vicinity without being entirely awkward, and honestly this was this most enthusiastic Rio had ever seen Skylar. He didn’t put too much thought into it, figuring she had just been super excited to finally be watching this anime or to get the gang back together for a marginally less dramatic anime night 2.0. Either way, Rio was happy to see her seem so... happy. She hadn’t had the best of luck recently. With the vampire watermelon attack and losing her voice she had seemed so... out of it. And who knew what else had been going on that Rio hadn’t been around for. “I’m gonna grab another soda... anybody want anything while I’m in there?” Rio asked, hopping up from the couch and shaking his empty can. It was like a weird case of deja vu ran through him “And I’m totally just going to the kitchen. Nowhere else. I promise. No more weird stuff. You both know about me now. Um... so yeah. sorry again for ruining the first anime night.” And the second, but at least this one still had potential.

“I don’t know Skye,” Winston replied with a shrug, “I’m sure you’ve got your own creative outlet.” Everyone did. Different strings for different things and all that. Raising an eyebrow at Orion’s frankly forced confession, Winston did not really know what they could say in response. They were still sure that there was something different with Skylar. They couldn’t put a finger on it but Rio had done enough to distract Winston from that for now. “Are you sure? I think that Nic would love it if you went through his things.” Winston hoped that the joke would be well received. Honestly, awkward humour was a close follow on from Winston doing something awkward and they couldn’t help but burst out laughing a second later. “I’m good on the soda front though,” Winston flashed Rio a smile. It was things like that which worked for Winston. So genuine to apologise for something that had been left well in the past. 

As the episode ended, Skylar focused on the closing animation. The music was a little high pitched and it rang a little too harsh in her ears, but it didn’t hurt her ears. Nothing hurt anymore. At Rio’s words, she offered an enthusiastic thumbs up in his direction. “Oh like when you went in my room and totally dug around and found my skin? You won’t wanna do that here, Nic’s got a lot of guns and stuff just kinda hiding all over the place. But, I’m all good here, I don’t need anything.” She said with a grin. Turning to look at Winston, she tilted her head. “Mhm, I don’t know about that. I mostly just do ASL and read.” She said with a blithe shrug. 

Orion absolutely deserved any roasting that came his way from that night. He had clearly not been in his right mind when he decided to go through her things out of some misguided delusion that he was protecting her. Still, it was a bit off the way she phrased it. Rio didn’t mind, it was mostly meant as a joke and Skylar didn’t sound mad or anything. It just sounded very... different from how she had reacted to it in the past. “Yeah uh I’ve very strictly minded my own business since then. Scout’s honor.” He almost launched into the explanation that he had only been in the boys scout for a couple of weeks before quitting but it seemed excessive. Besides, Rio got distracted when Winston was laughing and smiling at him again. It felt like it had been a while since the two had gotten to laugh together. He really missed their laugh. Rio giggled along with Skylar and Winston, moving forward while keeping his eyes focused on the two of them. He misjudged his path, tripping into the table and just barely catching a lamp from tipping over. “Sorry! Sorry. My bad” Rio laughed again, correcting the lamp and waving his arms around as if probing his safety to the two. Finally, he disappeared into the kitchen to grab his drink.

Laughing gently at the roasting that Skylar had provided Rio, Winston found a grin slowly dancing across their lips. “You’re good dude,” Winston replied with the same grin, “oh shit, you okay?” Winston couldn’t help but giggle. How was it possible that Rio was somehow more clumsy then them? Winston wasn’t sure and they didn’t really care. It was cute and endearing as fuck. “ASL and reading is pretty cool either way, have you ever thought about writing?” they weren’t really going for anything, they were just curious. They were sure that Skylar had a few good stories to tell. 

The sound of Winston and Rio laughing filtered in through the lingering lightness that filled Skylar’s head and she laughed alongside them. Her laughter only grew as she watched Rio stumble and nearly knock over a lamp. Leaning further into the cushy material of the couch, she continued to smile even after the small fit of giggles petered away. It was all just… so much better. Everything about this was better than how it had been. All thanks to Felix and the little vial tucked away in the desk of her room. “I don’t think I’d be any good at writing.” She said with a shake of her head, her choppy hair flowing around her shoulders. “I don’t think anyone would want to read anything I came up with anyways.” She said with an offhand shrug. At her words, Dundee hopped up on the couch between her and Winston and began to stare at her guest, his beady eyes unblinking. 

After grabbing a second Mountain Dew, Orion stood in the kitchen for a bit longer, welcoming the moment to himself to collect his thoughts. This was okay. This was good, even. Things could go back to normal soon. Winston used magic, maybe they could whip up some spell to make both of them forget the kiss even happened. The only problem was that Rio really, really didn’t want to forget it. While staring at the countertop, Rio’s hearing picked up on the conversation in the other room. He finally popped the tab on the can open and took a drink before heading back in to join his friends. “I’d totally want to read anything you wrote.” Rio interjected, hoping that they did not take it as him intruding in their conversation. And redound his seat on the couch, taking notice of Dundee staring at Winston. Rio found himself staring at the dog, “Your dog is very strange.”

Raising an eyebrow gently as their laughter subsided, Winston glanced at Dundee and then at Skylar. Then Rio walked in and Winston had a brief moment of eye contact and then back to the dog who still had his beady little eyes fixated on Winston’s. Suddenly Winston could understand why maybe Skylar wasn’t a dog person. “Uh, did I do something wrong?” they asked as they shifted their feet from underneath them and tried to get Dundee to look at something else. “Why is your dog being so weird?” It was a little unnerving honestly and Winston wasn’t sure that they really knew how to make it stop. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t think anyone would care about what I think!” Skylar said with a cheery shrug, her legs swinging over the edge of the couch as she spoke. As she did, she noticed that Dundee was still locking eyes with Winston. “Oh, he’s not my dog. He’s not really Nic’s dog either. He just came with the house.” Putting a hand on Dundee’s head, she gave the small dog an awkward pat on the head, her fingers unused to giving an animal physical affection. “I dunno, he just kinda does this sometimes.” She said before blinking as Dundee began to shiver for a moment, the fur on his back rippling strangely as the dog appeared to be vibrating with energy. All the while, his eyes remained trained on Winston. Before any of them could do anything, Dundee let out a sneeze, his face spinning in a whirlwind of fur. 

Orion would happily read anything that Skylar wrote, but Skylar didn’t seem bothered by the discussion anyways. She was definitely acting differently, right? Rio would ask Winston about it afterwards… if the two were really talking right now at least. Instead, the conversation seemed to shift entirely over to their dog. Which apparently wasn’t really their dog at all. That was only a bit unnerving. “Oh. So like he was the previous owner’s? That’s strange, right? To leave their dog?” Rio was very confused right, his eyes still staring at the dog that was staring at Winston. Dundee broke the stare first, erupting into a sneeze way more intense for it’s tiny little body. Rio’s eyes widened as the dog’s entire body shook in the aftermath. After a long moment of staring, Rio found himself giggling until he was erupting into full blown hystericals. “Oh my god, what was that?” He tried asking midlaugh, wiping at tears that had escaped his eyes.

Giggling to themselves and their friends, Winston felt their sides ache gently from all the laughter that they had been indulged in. It was nice that despite everything that had happened between Rio and Winston, this was something that they could still share together. Honestly, if anything it made Winston feel kind of better about the whole situation. Like even if everything went the worst possible way that it could there was still some hope that they wouldn’t be awkward for the rest of their life. Winston exploded in another fit of laughter as Dundee sneezed. “That dog is officially the cutest thing that I have ever seen,” Winston said as they reached behind their lenses and brushed a stray tear of joy from their eyes, “was that a sneeze?” 

With laughter ringing through the large, empty house, her friends beside her, Skylar joined in with the other two. Her shoulders shook with mirth as she looked at Dundee, who was now busily licking his paw. The strange energy she’d felt on him when she’d touched his head had vanished and he seemed to be back to normal-- or, whatever kind of normal passed for the strange little dog. “I think it was.” Skylar managed with a final chuckle, shaking her head. Everything about this moment, it was more than she had ever imagined would be possible for her. To be surrounded by friends, laughing, joking, just having a nice normal night in? She wished it could last forever.

#p: skylar #p: orion #para #wickedswriting #Weeb Night Two

[heeres-suffering]

Be More Alluring: a Personality Swap AU

[pic description and source will be at the bottom of this post, under the read more]

Start of summary:

“You need to be more alluring.”

"... don’t you mean attractive?”

“I do not. Your attractiveness is adequate, Brooke; if you want to mask your apparently latent queerness, you have to make them want you straight. Isn’t that why your step-father defended you?” 

Brooke Lohst is a loser.

But you know what? That was okay.

She always knew she was a weird one. The intensity of her affection for puppies, picture books, and near-constant daydreaming has lasted well-past a normalcy she can’t seem to grasp; when coupled with her inability to befriend anyone (besides the similarly self-identified loser Michael Mell), it’s not a surprise the rest of her peers have left her behind.

However, there were... ah, worse things in her life to worry about then some mild bullying. She liked her passion well enough, and all of her true insecurities went largely unnoticed, so any insults or weird looks rarely lingered in her mind. It’s not like she was a constant target either, which helped a lot. All in all, she just planned to hunker down, wait out the awkwardness of High School like everyone else, and move on to the rest of her life... 

Except.

When Brooke develops a crush on a girl she’s never talked to, after years of avoiding fairy tale romance and trying not to think about the inevitability of marriage (or how finicky her attraction to boys is in the first place), it feels like her whole world is about to cave in. She’d do anything to make sure her parents, especially daddy, never find out... including buying an edible super computer from the loudest, tiniest guy in school.

End of summary.

Alright!

Hi, hello, it’s Mod Seb, and here’s an AU I’ve been rolling around for a few days! You are free to do with this concept whatever you want, but I wanted to introduce it with a good chunk of the info I’ve already worked out in my head.

So. As the CWs are... too numerous, I’m going to go with a blanket “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” label and encourage you not to read the rest of this if you have any big darkfic triggers that could be upset by mere mention; this isn’t a fic tho, so descriptions of anything awful won’t last long. 

Although, I will mention upfront that Brooke isn’t a binary lesbian. I know the description might read like I’m setting her up to be 100% homosexual; she’s bi with a strong preference for girls, and anyone who presents soft enough in gender or appearance. If it wasn’t for the end-game pairings, her unfamiliarity with smaller details/history of the LGBTQ+ community, and general “gay newb” status, she’d likely ID as a bi lesbian!

(ships and everything else under the Read More)

Okay. That out of the way, there’s quite a number of pairings; I’m pretty sure it’s a super polyamorous and sexual AU, though you’re free to change this list as much as you’d like:

[bolded are end-game ships. italics physically hook up at least once. strike-through means they were in a relationship but break-up in some way before the ending. (H) stands for healthy, while (T) is toxic and/or noncon. underlined characters are pining for the other and may never confess their true feelings]

Brooke/Christine (H), Brooke/Rich (H), Brooke/Jenna (H), Brooke/Michael (H), Brooke/Chloe (T), Brooke/her Daddy (T), Brooke/Squip (H), Brooke/Jeremy (soft T at first bc of mirrored canon-compliant manipulation, H later on), Brooke/Squip/Jeremy (H), Brooke/Squip/Jeremy/Rich (H), Rich/Moses (H), [insert every form of Rich/Mo/Squip/Jeremy here] (H), Jeremy/Chloe (T), Jeremy/Michael (H), Michael/Christine (H), Michael/Christine/Mr. Heere (H; no, seriously), Madeline/Brooke (H)

This is, of course, a role swap AU where Brooke and Jeremy trade places based on my personal lore for their home lives. I always have some pretty fucked ideas as I don’t imagine MB is a great place with great adults, and I pick and choose which parts of canons I use and which I don’t. 

There is no definite ending planned in mind as this isn’t an outline; it’s meta (or an imagine or w/e) for an AU that you’re free to do whatever with. 

So,

The big difference is that Brooke was picked by Michael, while Jeremy was picked by Chloe. Jeremy is trans and hadn’t come out yet; if Chloe had known he was a boy, she wouldn’t have grabbed him. In contrast, Michael’s never gave a shit about potential friends genders.

Jer and B’s personalities... are altered some. Not ALL the way, but kiiinda fusing into their roles, kinda tweaked (I'll get back to that).

The main point of this for me was Brooke/Squip/Jeremy, with B/Jer having a MUCH stronger focus than in canon, and a really bad Chloe acting as one of the major villains.

Michael gets roped into Chloe’s shit, even tho he's still generally a good guy here, bc he's worried about B and thinks she can't properly take care of herself.

While B DOES have a strong crush on Christine, she’s the opposite of the Squip’s “goal”; that’s (obvs) masking, or making passably digestible, her queerness.

Her Mom and step-’Daddy’ have reacted to her friendship w/ ‘openly gay moms, also very flamboyant and GNC’ Michael... poorly.

Michael thinks the solution has to be “act as aggressively yourself as you can, and if they reject you, you know me and the mom’s have a space for you”. This works for him bc he’s permanently hyper-visible, what with all of his own marginalized identities. But, not only has she flied under the radar in comparison to him for years, he doesn’t know everything about her life.

In fact, he doesn’t know most of it. She’s very good at hiding things.

Meanwhile, Jeremy, one of the more popular ‘boy... ish’ (we’ll get to this, too) people in school, is mid-psychosis and self-destruction. He actually has schizo-affective disorder--as is the case with all of my versions of Jeremy--which he needs medication for. Combined that with so many bad influences and trauma, he can no longer fully control himself or his life.

The way he handles this (badly) is to ‘whore around’--which, besides being Chloe’s pet, is kinda why he’s so popular. Nobody respects him, but he’s viewed some form of favorably.

Jeremy is in a relationship with Rich, but he won't let him get as close/protective as Rich wants; Mo and Rich were doing their own man-whoring (but healthy, just droppin’ panties and making dudes and chicks swoon--yeah, Rich is out as bisexual, this is a very ‘the Squips are a good thing’ AU) to gain their standard reputation, but in the course of that, they got together with Jeremy and it became... complicated. Both of them are very "nnn" about how bad his life is for Jer.

The way that their personalities are altered is... okay. To explain this, I have to talk about my characterization of canon-Brooke and Jeremy in relation to this, starting with Brooke:

I imagine B as just a liiittle below the line of "all the way there" for sorta-similar reasons to Jeremy here: trauma, and Chloe (which is why that’s what Jeremy gets in this, it’s just WAY worse when compounded by everything else). She’s also--like me, and like almost every character I write as a result--autistic, in a near-permanent state of “not enough accommodations” and over-stimulation. This leads to a lot of dissociation and a very wandering mind, as well as being perceived as a bimbo or dumb blonde or w/e misogynistic bullshit is projected onto her by the boys she dates (she’s also much more down the middle bi outside this AU).

So, going back to how she is for this AU: she's actually not super nerdy, despite the close connection she and Michael have. Honestly, it’s their general neurodivergent weirdness that bring them together, and so she’s mostly adopted her nerdy interests through him, whether directly a thing he likes, or finding a whimsical variant that fits her tastes.

Obviously, unlike Jeremy, she doesn’t mind being called a loser. She does any insinuation she might be queer. This including anyone who calls her gay or a dyke.

She has too much Cis Male Trauma (unlike canon, where it comes from both cis angles) to really entertain the idea of a Traditionally Male Partner. This means she skews HEAVILY towards hard GNC guys at the very least, and generally finds herself most interested in the idea of enbies and women. she's also not super into butches tho, bc her trauma mixing with her sexuality has latched on to Strong Masc People Are A Threat. 

An expansion on her interests, in canon and otherwise: animals, ASMR/sensual service work (including massages and stuff), spending hours just sorta sitting by herself and letting her imagination wander, fairy tales, and YA-and-under fantasy books.

(Here, she tries to avoid het or f/f romance... except that, this past year or two, she’s started really like m/m stuff--esp after getting REALLY into drag shows, which she could enjoy safely since girls like Chloe have gotten into them too; in canon, she’s a romance fanatic)

Now... this is one of the really darkfic element; she's fucking her step-dad. 

She does this so that he doesn't walk out on her, her mom, and her little sister*. Her mom has a good-enough job as a standard office woman, but he makes enough to pay the rent on their nice townhouse and all the bills she can’t. So, after he expressed interest in Brooke and then casually mentioned he could always just leave if she wasn’t comfortable, she reluctantly entered a relationship with him

(* = her sister is currently know as her brother; he’s like 12 or 13, and started showing signs of trans/queerness which have been Heavily Discouraged. Brooke worries about him a lot)

((I didn’t use she/her pronouns bc I’m not entirely sure he would change them? This is an OC Oli created at the beginning of our interest in BMC, and we haven’t worked on him at all since, so how his characterization will be is up in the air))

Canonically, Brooke's "in love" with her daddy, which is a self-imposed delusion; if she actually addressed it, she’d says she’s well aware that’s not true, but it's so much easier to pretend when you’re cornered like that. Brooke’s life blows.

She’s a lot more honest to herself about hating him here; still, she tries to be as polite and generally-friendly as she can, doing what he says whenever he wants.

OKAY, THAT’S BROOKE. If any of that is badly described or potentially-offensive, it’s just bc I glossed over SO MUCH DETAIL, even in that amount of it!

So. Jeremy.

I don’t have to go over him much and we’re all mostly aware of how I feel about him and also I don’t have the energy to do this again--

(just... read my fics The Devil at your Door or hello yesterday or something... eyyy actually do that, my ao3 username is Sedusa, blah blah blah ANYWAY)

--but basically: He's still very nerdy, like, he’s super into film as well as video games (which is another constant for me), but after being largely ignored in elementary, he's been trailing behind Chloe at her orders since they were in 6th grade. As a result he isn't very open about... any of his interests.

In 7th grade, he came out as trans to everyone. Chloe was furious, but at the same time, intrigued; this was around the time Chloe gets her own... ah shit I gotta go into that too--

--yet another hc of mine is that Chloe gets a Squip on accident around this time at a party (there was one in a “”candy bowl””), and from there, she claws her way up the ladder. I... will not go into that much, but her Squip was crippled by the drugs and alcohol in her system, and therefore largely at her mercy. She’s used his power to manipulate certain things about herself and to sharpen her focus on popularity to the point she’s full-blown Alpha Bitch.

Man, I’ve had to go on so many tangents, I apologize.

Anyway, she drags Jeremy around as a punching bag. She constantly mocks Jeremy's transness, even though she usually calls him by his correct name and pronouns.

This has made the rest of the school follow her lead, hence why I said “boy-ish”; he’s popular, he’s technically ‘well liked’, but nobody really takes him seriously. This is compounded by Chloe’s refusal to let him dress in 'dorky' casual clothes, and, as he’s both too poor to afford designer clothes and also generally hates popular guy fashion, he has to wear the hyper femme clothing Chloe specifically tells him too/

As such, people call him a boy but largely see him as either an idiot, a slut, an attention seeker, or all of the above.

So of course, in Brooke's place, his neurodivergence is more prominent than ever; every day he slips further into this psychosis and self-infantilization haze, as his his mom leaving, his dad severely depressed, Chloe's sexual violence, and other repressed trauma (see: my fic hello yesterday on ao3) all weighing on him. This makes him INCREDIBLY regressed, like, all the time by Junior year.

And then Brooke's Squip (IE: canon Squip) falls in love with Jeremy extremely fucking hard. He pushes her to date him as a way to compromise on her queer desires, since Jeremy is technically a boy, and certainly a few other straight-ish girls have hooked up with him in the past.

WHEW. That is a fucking lot. To wrap this up, lemme go over the interpersonal relationships not already mentioned, and what directions I think it takes.

First off, Madeline has a more prominent role, as I quite like her tbh; she’s a sex worker, she has her own Squip, she’s one of Chloe’s most hated enemies, and she gravitates towards both Brooke and Jeremy. She’s also Actually French, Chloe’s just weird.

(Anyway she prolly sees through Brooke’s straight act and asks her why she’s pretending to be a good little cishet. It rattles Brooke.)

Chloe is scum. This bears repeating. She DEFINITELY rapes Brooke at the Halloween party, and becomes obsessed with her, along with already being obsessed with Jeremy and Jake. 

Jake, by the way, has a lot of regressive behavior and impulsiveness bc he’s been in an abusive relationship off and on with Chloe for years now.

Speaking of Jake, moving on to his best bro: Rich doesn’t set himself on fire. He’s having a good time with his Squip.

But.

He IS set on fire at the Halloween party.

Instead of the Smartphone Hour being about Rich's instability, it's actually about the mystery of Someone Did It To Him But No One Saw Who It Was, They Were Disguised.

The answer relates to the fact that Rich and Brooke are ALSO hooking up, after she’s already with Jeremy, bc he Properly introduces her to him and the three of them hit it off really well.

(She initially wasn’t interested, but while Rich is loud and still kinda abrasive, his Squip doesn’t drive him to act like a bully--and in private, his nerdiness is really obvious and he’s extremely gentle with her and Jeremy. Add to that that he’s bi and trans*, when Brooke connects best w/ queer men over cishet one, and it off-sets his masc-ness enough to make him an Exception.

* = I always imagine him as trans. See: all of Vanceypants fics.)

Sooo... the culprit is actually Brooke's daddy, who sees her with this obvious heartthrob and Cannot let that be.

Chloe convinces Michael that the Squips are Very Very Bad and has him team up with her to force Brooke into drinking Red, with the intention to convince him to kill himself after to get him out of the way, bc she’s really going nuts at this point.

Eventually, he snaps out of it when he and Christine get together (he’s thought he was Full Homo all of his life, but Christine’s prolly genderqueer-ness makes him realize “oh shit, I’m bisexual”) and she starts to question why he’s acting the way he is towards Christine.

He also definitely has a crush on Jeremy and during his time with Chloe he kinda tried to flirt a little but couldn’t really... he’s not up for dating someone as sexually active and a push-over as Jeremy is in this.

However, when he snaps out of Chloe’s manipulation, he and Christine approach Mr. Heere to convince him to straighten up and help Jeremy and also bc they really need an adult to successfully fight Chloe.

This requires a month+ of Christine getting him to see her psychiatrist (the one who prescribes her ADHD meds). Jeremy spends the majority of his time staying with Chloe, and very rarely comes home to gather things or to make sure his dad is eating/still alive, as much as he can remember to in his own haze of mental illness. Anyway, point is, he doesn’t know Christine and Michael are there often... not that, in the course of growing close to Mr. H, they both fall for him hard and it becomes one of my stranger OT3s.

(God, Jeremy goes through a lot of shit in this, tho.)

Pre-Squip, Jenna was kinda-sorta Brooke’s friend--or, well, friendly. However, she’s actually full blown “oh my God she’s wonderful” in love with Brooke.

Brooke isn't aware of that, esp since Jenna tries her not to be around her a lot. She's also trying to hide her own queerness, bc she’s a trans woman and she knows Chloe finding that out would be extremely dangerous.

Eventually, Chloe succeeds in making Brooke take the Red months after canon usually ends, w/o Michael’s help. If you’re curious, Red doesn’t affect her normal Squip bc she’s had him too long and a lot of his receptors and stuff are damaged, so it’s the second one she gets in canon that turns off.

This plan backfires, however, as Brooke’s Squip comes back with a physical body w/ help from Rich and also-bodied-now Moses.

With a body, and shenanigans, Mo and Squip take out Brooke’s daddy too. His life insurance more than makes up for the loss of his income, as it’s a sizable amount. Now that Brooke feels more empowered and strong, she overrides her mother’s neglectfulness and takes control of the household w/ her boyfriends*, comes out as queer, helps her sister transition, and begin to heal from all of this trauma.

(* = Rich and Mo move in, as does Jeremy eventually, after graduation; Jeremy gets a psychiatrist and a therapist and prolly has to go through some intense outpatient care and possibly a stay in the hospital, before finally making major breakthroughs and looking like himself again. The five of them are now happy and in love.)

Chloe, after her arm gets twisted by the Squip’s protective presence so thoroughly, gives up on Jeremy and Brooke to focus on Jake. This too gets abandoned when Rich and Mo help him cut her off, and so she stays in her own popularity bubble, bitter, until graduating and going to a community college in a different state.

All in all, things work out well in the end, but getting there is a long, difficult process. This AU fascinates me immensely and feels like a great way to examine some of my really dark headcanons about MB, as I think it’s a town similar to Derry in Stephen King’s IT--as in, just chronically The Worst Place Ever, with this, like, miasma of low-key despair around it. People adjust and don’t question it, which is why so much of BMC is this flippant dark humor in the face of some highly questionable shit.

I’m so sorry this post is so long (I’ll be uploading it to AU under my usual Sedusa account, as metas like this are more than allowed), but I really adore these characters and the way they can be twisted around, so I had a lot to say!

Thank you for reading <3

-mod Seb

image description: virtual-like stairs pointed forward and bathed in neon yellow and blue to represent Brook and Jeremy, which I’ve modified from the original blue-only design.

source: x (link description: a free Wallpaper Flare image that I found off Google Image’s “filtered by ‘labeled and reuse with modification” feature) 

#bmc #be more chill #squipemy #brooke lohst #jeremy heere #jeremy queere #puppylove ship #puppy love ship #ot3 #ot4 #ot5 #polyshipping #darkfic #noncon // #n/sfw // #nsft // #richmo #mashed motato #oc #text

[crows-murder]

ADHD Mac

oh yeah im doing this

there are two things im 100% about Angus MacGyver

1 he is a bi disaster

and 2 he has ADHD

before elementary school, no one really thought anything was out of the ordinary with Mac. his parents thought his hyperactivity and inability to focus well was normal for a toddler.

even if they got suspicious, Ellen got sick and she became a priority, not Mac’s odd behavior.

after Ellen MacGyver’s death, James couldn’t even look at his son, seeing his late wife in his blue eyes and blond hair, much less worry about his son’s attention problem that were increasingly frustrating the teachers.

Mac’s teachers in first grade aren’t too hard on him and his wandering attention and inability to sit still for too long since his mother had died recently.

they blame it on the trauma of losing a mother and dismiss it, though get more frustrated with Mac.

as early as second grade, Mac shows signs of having an exceptionally sharp mind, but his teachers are frustrated with him because he can’t seem to concentrate in class and struggles with his homework. Mac gets exceptional grades despite that.

his grades are so good the administration bumps him up two grades.

Mac starts fifth grade at 8, but it doesn’t get easier for him, or less frustrating.

he has occasional emotional outbursts, he’s always fidgeting, leaves a lot of tasks unfinished and has problems focusing. the other students find him weird on top of him having skipped two grades and he has no friends other than Bozer.

Mac works on his homework for hours, trying desperately to focus long enough to finish it, missing obvious details and getting reprimanded by the teachers.

his father becomes more secluded so Mac can’t ask him for help, and instead tries to force himself to study until his head hurts and the words swim around the paper like unintelligible squiggles.

Mac’s teachers complain about his poor organisation skills, unable to understand that this “mess” is Mac’s own version of organized.

Mac feels like no adult believes him when he says he can’t focus in class, that he couldn’t finish the homework, so he stops trying to convince them and instead takes it in.

he’s in sixth grade when his dad leaves for good, and it makes Mac’s already low self-esteem worse and wonders guiltily if James left because Mac struggled with simple tasks.

and so he works even harder, makes more efforts, tries harder.

it’s a real struggle that drives Mac’s frustration to tears many times, but it never feels like it’s enough. he still struggles working in group projects, he procrastinates, he loses track of time.

sometimes he can’t even physically bring himself to do his homework and ends up rushing it in the morning.

and of course, sometimes he gets lost in a personal project for hours on end without even realizing it.

Mac was always fidgeting, and started twisting up paperclips to keep his hands occupied and found that it helped focus his mind on the task ahead.

people thought he was distracted, but twisting paperclips meant that he was actually focusing much more easily.

as Mac grew older, he still couldn’t take criticism well. only Bozer really knew this, and even light criticism could make  his low self-esteem plummet.

this paired with Mac being often bored and under-stimulated (mainly in school) made Mac’s school experience difficult.

he graduates at 16 and goes straight to MIT where things slightly get better, feeling like some of the stress of grade school finally leaving him and giving him more room to breathe.

when his grandfather's call came, Mac was 18 and finally felt like things were going right.

he went to join the Army, hoping his history of lack of focus won’t hinder him much.

in Afghanistan, Mac is (usually) able to put all his focus on the IED and forget the world around.

the other soldiers think he’s just a really good EOD tech who can ignore the gunfire surprisingly well, but it’s actually because oh his hyper-focused brain.

when he and Jack are discharged and hired by DXS, Mac starts to suffer from secondary depression.

he finally goes to see a doctor who gives him his diagnosis and prescribes him antidepressants and suggests he sees a mental health professional.

Mac does and he gets diagnosed with ADHD and his prescribed ADHD medication and his doctor even suggests seeing a therapist.

despite Mac's hatred for pills, he still takes his antidepressants, but refuses to take the ADHD meds, refusing to be dependent on pills for the rest of his life.

he manages to keep it a secret from everyone, even Bozer.

but Mac decides a therapist would be helpful, and so he schedules a meeting.

and then he keeps going, every week.

therapy helps.

a lot.

though he felt like he was back to square one, like in school, feeling under-performing, but only this time with mild depression.

his therapist explains that the depression was caused by his brain being constantly under-stimulated, and of course war didn’t help.

over the months, Mac slowly gets better and feels like he’s finally moving forward, and talking to someone about a mental issue he never knew he had really helped him.

he feels guilty not telling anyone, but he isn’t ready to tell them yet.

months later, Mac decides to tell Bozer and sits him down and explains to his best friend how he was recently diagnosed with ADHD (Bozer told him it explained a lot) and mild depression because of it

Bozer understood and respected Mac’s wish to keep it under wraps and tells him that if Mac needed anything, he could always (always) come to Bozer. Mac felt even more grateful for his best friend (I love their friendship oh wow--)

no one but Bozer knew for a long time.

it wasn’t even added to his file, so not even Patti (later Matty) or Oversight (screw him anyways) knew.

after fifteen months on antidepressants Mac’s therapist decides he could come off the medication.

the withdrawal is… rough

but Mac refused to take any days off (despite what his doctor said), lest he roused suspicion.

Mac just powered through the intense stomach cramps, sweating, shivering and nausea as best as he could.

Jack was suspicious, but Mac assured him it was just a stomach bug, and Jack let it be since he could see no physical wounds that could cause this.

Mac’s withdrawal lasted a little over three weeks, and Bozer was trying to be there for his best friend as best as he could.

Mac would sleep in fits, threw up every other night and couldn’t stand eating or even looking at anything salty or sweet

when Mac started to get better, looking and feeling more healthy, Bozer took him out to one of the best restaurants in LA as a way to celebrate and made Mac pancakes for breakfast all week.

Mac told him it was entirely unnecessary, but Bozer cut him off by telling him that if someone could beat depression, it was worth celebrating.

it effectively shut Mac up and made him wonder for the thousandth time how he was lucky enough to meet someone like Bozer.

for the whole week, Mac is in a much happier and brighter mood than he’d been in in a long time.

it took everyone by surprise and caused Jack to ask if he was okay. Mac had just smiled and said that he’d never been better.

Bozer was just glad to see Mac act the way he used to when they were still in grade school. he missed this version of Mac.

Matty being Matty found out bout Mac’s therapy sessions and his antidepressant prescription and ADHD diagnosis and asks him about it (more worried about his well-being than his performance in the field)

Mac apologizes for keeping it a secret but told her that he’d gotten off the antidepressants months ago (to Matty’s relief) and that the ADHD was nothing to worry about.

Mac knows that he won’t be able to keep his therapy sessions and ADHD a secret from everyone forever, but still doesn’t feel ready to tell anyone.

Mac told them one by one, all at different times

he told Jack first, who was concerned for his partner but couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Mac for keeping it to himself.

telling Riley and Cage took a while, but he finally got it out, and felt relieved that he didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore.

after season 3, when Mac gets reinstated, his first order of business is to schedule an appointment with a therapist (Nigerian villages, as it turned out, don’t have therapy clinics)

James MacGyver tries to be the dad he hasn’t been to Mac since he was five, but missed a lot and doesn’t believe his son’s claim to have ADHD.

it destabilizes Mac’s firm belief in the diagnosis and sends him spiraling

Matty is not happy.

you do not want Matty to not be happy with you

whether or not you’re her boss.

she and James have a heated discussion when James says he wants to remove Mac’s ADHD from his personal file.

let’s just say Mac’s mental health is something no one talks about unless they want to really go at it with James.

and Mac tells them to drop it. he doesn’t have to listen to his father’s opinions (as he is an adult himself) and doesn’t want anyone fired on his behalf.

idk if it’s just me really liking the idea of Mac seeing a therapist (boy needs it)

or just thinking that it would explain a lot about Mac (his habit of playing with paperclips, his hyper-focus, etc...)

but i like the idea of ADHD Mac.

also it would make a lot of sense idk

#mac #macgyver 2016 #adhd #secondary depression #james macgyver #we hate james in this house yall #angus macgyver #riley davis #matty the hun #nikki #patti #jack dalton #wilt bozer #leanna martin #samantha cage #phoenix foundation #headcanon #this is entirely fanon #unfortunately #cia #tv show #cbs

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 28

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Previous Chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, Fantasy AU You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 11.720

Warnings: memories of abuse, getting startled, mild panic, touching feet, food/baking, mentioned alcoholism. Let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Sooooo I realized I’ve been criminally neglecting my Tag list and I am SO sorry! Please forgive me, I swear to do better. This Chapter was originally supposed to feature Remus already, but I realized it was too soon, Patton needed some more time. A special thanks again to my beloved betas @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @hanramz-the-fander, you are both simply incredible!

Chapter 28

Patton felt like his whole body was cut and bruised as he woke up after The Fight. This was not entirely unusual – he’d gotten used to bearing the sharp needle stabs of pain every movement caused in silence, yet this time, he did not have to get up painfully and treat quietly on the tips of his toes in a desperate attempt not to draw attention to himself and to somehow make up for his mistakes before Trevor got out of bed. Usually, he’d try to make breakfast, clean up the effects of last night, make himself pretty or at least presentable and fearfully hope the anger from before had vanished when his boyfriend woke up. He’d hardly dare to make a sound for days and try to smile and soothe whenever he could. He knew how badly Trevor handled those episodes when he lost control and would not want things to slip out of control again or have him falling into one of his depressive episodes over it.

This morning however, he woke to the quiet sound of voices whispering over his head. He smelled tea and laundry detergent and that green smell of a lot of verdant plants and damp earth. A large body was wrapped around him that rumbled against his back very softly, while a thin figure was still curled up in his arms, taking up little space. On instinct, the patissier remained small as a mouse, unnoticed and silent. As he blinked his eyes open carefully, he found that Cat had no such reservations. She and the kitten had spread themselves out in the night and taken up a large portion of the bed displaying soft belly fur while he, Roman and Virgil had shuffled away from sharp little paws and tails in their faces and had now settled at the corner of the mattress in a tangled pile.

Logan was awake already, as he usually was. Bathed in the warm, early morning light and dressed in a handsome, form fitting shirt in pale blue with the sleeves rolled up and top button undone, he looked soft in a way that suggested he hadn’t come online entirely yet. His raven hair was still slightly damp from the shower, curling at the ends. He wasn’t wearing a tie. While he carefully placed three mismatched mugs of tea on the bedside table, he quietly filled Roman in on their work schedule for the week and about how their application for a part-time home office had been granted.

Patton, used to carefully observing men’s moods especially when he was bruised to the bone, noticed dark, tired shadows under his eyes as well as bluish bruises on the knuckles of his right hand. Yet his shoulders and neck seemed to have lost some of the tension the patissier had become used to as they hugged, before the taller man’s muscles had relaxed as he’d wrapped his arms around Patton’s narrow waist. His next breath came more easily.

No one actively mentioned what had been done to him as they sleepily untangled from each other. As soon as he noticed Patton had woken up, Roman distracted him with anecdotes about sleeping with his animal friends (less glamorous than in the Disney stories!). He moved slowly as not to startle the younger man again. Virgil, still unusually quiet, helped settle Patton in the bed and slunk off to make breakfast.

“He’ll be okay, don’t worry, my dearest.” Roman assured him as he noticed the baker’s concerned look. Patton had huddled against the pillows stacked against the headboard and wrapped his arms around himself like a child, tiny and half buried under clean, if fur covered blankets. His honey-brown eyes were wide and wet.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out. Guilt was creeping into the space behind his collar-bone, coalescing and rising up his throat bitterly. He tried very hard to keep his thoughts centered in this room, but even here, Virgil was suffering when Patton had only ever wanted to shield him from this. He’d spilled his problems into this safe space and now the air was thick with unaddressed emotion. Anger and blame and humiliating questions. Why did you let him do this? He’d been asked by everyone who found out. Shame threatened to drown him in a red hot wave, making him sweat and tremble.

A gust of cool morning-air ruffled his light-brown curls against his forehead. Logan had opened a window and was pushing a lightly furred, colorful plant around its already perfect spot on the windowsill. Its leaves were colored a deep burgundy red with pink in the middle and a light green border around the edges. It looked lovely between his pale, long fingers.

“Roman is right.” The detective muttered, keeping his gaze focused on the pot he was turning this way and that so the light caught it just right. He felt too shaken still to look Patton in the eyes and expose all of his feelings rattling loose and unprotected around his head. The sensation of the fragile cellular structure under his fingertips grounded him and he tried to focus on it entirely instead of the thrumming images of Patton hurt Patton bleeding Patton shying away from him in terror. He was afraid to meet his eyes lest he’d see the same fear again.

“You have no cause for worry anymore, Patton. I hope you understand that we will aid you as you deserve from now on and therefore solve any issue together. Neither you nor Virgil will be without support anymore, just as Roman and I surely will profit from your care. I am certain that no problem can be so insurmountable as not to be fixed by a group of such diverse talents and inclinations as this.” He uttered, trying to keep his voice low and soothing, hyper aware of the wide eyes focused on him.

The weight of the small patissier’s attention felt heavy suddenly. He swallowed hard, trying to chase away his insecurity. He had Patton here, finally, safe in his hands and Roman’s arms and Logan was petrified. He longed to touch Patton, to run his hands all over his body where blues and reds had been spilled under his skin and take the memories of violence and humiliation away. He wanted to replace his fear with trust, he wanted to make Patton smile, he hurt with how much he wanted his happiness.

The memory of his anguish as he’d been beaten to the ground made the detective understand what people referred to when they used overly poetic phrases like ‘gutted’. He could relate to the sensation of having a sharp metal hook driven into the space behind one’s throat, tear deep into the soft tissue of one’s neck and rip out all of the structures that gave stability. His whole nervous system felt torn from his body, impossible as it may be, and he was left with a feeling of being ripped open – tender and vulnerable.

The soft, burgundy colored leaf ripped in his shaking hand.

He took a deep breath, centering himself. Shutting it all away. Patton didn’t need his unreliable urges and needs right now. His features were smooth as he turned to the tangled little family on the bed.

“I believe it would be beneficial to orient our efforts on your needs directly, instead of attempting to presume the best course of action on your behalf. How may we assist you, Patton? What do you need?” He inquired politely, folding his hands in front of himself. Keeping them from where they might not be wanted.

Patton, now curled up against a mountain of pillows against the headboard with a not really awake kitten snoring in his lap, looked frightened at the offer.

Logan’s breath caught on the hook tearing at his neck. Had he demanded too much of Patton already? Had he frightened him with his clinical tone?

“It’s alright, dearest Patton.” Roman soothed. He settled the kitten comfortably in his little friend’s arms and gave him a soft smile.

“Whatever you need is alright. We won’t be mad and we don’t need to understand it to accept that you need it.”

The baker tried to believe his friend’s kind words, but the thing he knew he’d have to do as soon as Logan had offered would make them angry, he knew it. He was frustrating and hurting them and they did not deserve any of it.

He was too scared to ask.

“It’s about him, isn’t it?”

Virgil’s voice was quiet and hard to read. The young man was half hiding behind the door, burrowing his hands deep in his pocket. He sighed, his whole, thin body appearing to become heavier with it. After a long moment, he pulled himself together to face his frightened friend. He wouldn’t fail him again with his anger and prejudice.

“It’s okay, Patton. I get that you worry. You don’t just stop caring about people who hurt you, even if they’re bastards. Even when you should. So, what do you need?”

Oh fuck.

Tears started streaming down Patton’s pale, bruised face. He swallowed a sob, still utterly silent, small and undemanding.

Both Logan and Virgil had frozen, fearful of getting too close, of doing the wrong thing, of having caused -

Roman gave the barista a subtle nudge and Virgil went, offering his arms awkwardly.

Patton burrowed into the embrace gratefully. He loved Virgil so, so much. When he felt safe enough to raise his head, he found Logan crouching in front of him, quiet and patient.

“Please don’t put him in prison.”

The words had been spoken almost too quiet to hear. Patton was clearly frightened to make his request. He knew it would hurt Logan. And it did. The detective looked devastated. Patton still felt threatened by him, even if it wasn’t for his own sake.

Logan’s silence was painful to bear, thought it was not reproachful. Finally, he nodded.

“I will not do anything without your consent, Patton. I promised.”

“Oh. Thank you, Logan.” The slight patissier mumbled.

“There is no need for gratitude, Patton.”

“Yes there is! I know this is normal for you, because you are amazing and smart and kind and so nice to me all the time, to everyone really, but it means so much to me when you say that. You have no idea how important the things you say are. I’m so grateful to you. You’re my hero.” Patton exclaimed, suddenly finding it very important that the older man understood just how marvelous he found him.

Logan flushed brightly.

The group tried their best to understand that Patton wasn’t able to just ignore what happened to Trevor and move on. He at least had to find out if he was badly hurt, so they agreed to find out if he was still in the hospital and how to contact him after they fed him and made sure he was comfortable. Everyone was wound up so tightly, the time to breathe would help them calm down.

Breakfast was marvelous. Patton was better able to enjoy being taken care of now that he found that no one was angry at him for needing to check up on Trevor’s health. He knew they were disappointed that he could not make a clean cut, though. He understood them, too. Patton wished he were able to just close this chapter of his life and walk away. He didn’t know what he still needed to hear to make it happen. Maybe he was just too stupid to know when to stop.

As if sensing his heavy thoughts, Roman made sure to distract Patton. Making sure to keep any weight off his injured ankle, he carried him to the kitchen Virgil had taken over and kept him entertained while they ate the lovely food the barista had prepared. Then, they settled him on the comfortable couch with the kitten and cleaned up the kitchen together to give Patton some privacy to find out how the man that had injured him so badly was faring.

Though he had been feeling much better during breakfast, now that he stared at the number Logan had written down in his tidy handwriting in dark blue ink, he felt afraid once again. Yesterday had been the worst fight he’d had to live though in a long time and perhaps the most disappointed he’d ever been. Just thinking about it made him barely able to hold back his tears. He covered his face with his hands and tried to think of something other than his feral expression, so betrayed, so hateful. He was hit hard by how much he loathed the thought of hearing his voice. How badly he never wanted to see him again. He feared this man, no matter how much he’d loved him. Still, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t even find out how badly he was hurt. What kind of person would that make him? He was here, cared for so well and Trevor was all alone. No one would ask him how he was but Patton. He had no choice. With shaking hands, he picked up the phone – a land-line – of course Logan would still have one, dialed the number and was connected with Trevor’s room.

“Hello?”

Even though he’d called him, hearing Trevor’s voice was a shock to Patton’s system. It made him freeze for a long moment, heart racing with terror.

“Hello, what is it?” He repeated. Then, more quietly, “Is that you, babe?”

“Um, yes.” Patton muttered. He couldn’t get out more than a whisper. He was tiny and afraid again, guilty and helpless once more.

A shocked flinch almost made him drop the phone altogether. The kitten he’d been left with had pounced on the hand lying in his lap and tried to wrestle with it. It’s tiny tail was sticking straight like a little flag. Patton remembered an expression he’d learned from an Austrian student when he’d studied for his patissier-training in Germany for a few months. ‘Autodromkatzer’ they called the really little kittens, because they’re tails would stick up like the flag-poles at the back those funny bumper cars. He’d always wanted to have one. Turning his hand a little he let the kitten gnaw at his finger with its tiny teeth. It looked proud to have caught him. He tried to focus on the warm baby animal to get through the conversation.

“Babe?”

“Uh, yes. Sorry. Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry.” He stammered. Trevor couldn’t hurt him here, he reminded himself, only the feelings Patton just couldn’t control could. Trevor’s next sentence was enough to send him spiraling with guilt.

“You’re not here.” He sounded shaken. Alone. Patton struggled to find words through the tears gathering in his throat.

“I’m sorry you woke up alone. Are you hurt very badly?”

“Don’t pretend you care!” Trevor screeched suddenly, his voice almost breaking. “You did this to me! You brought him into our lives! How could you do this to us? I wasn’t enough and you went looking for someone better! Is that it? Did you want a better man?!”

“NO, Trevor, I never tried to-”

“Did you sleep with him?” Trevor interrupted. He sounded close to tears now. Patton clutched a hand over his mouth to hold himself together, breathing through the upset emotions for a moment.

“Never.” He whispered miserably. Nothing could eat away at his insides quite like his boyfriend’s suffering. His narrow chest ached so badly he had to wrap a bandaged arm around himself. “I never wanted to replace you, I swear. I love you. I only wanted you to be happy.”

Like a switch had been flipped, Trevor’s tone changed from broken to pleading, manipulating. Patton had never noticed it this clearly before.

“I want you to be happy too, babe. Don’t you see what that man is doing to us? He’s trying to steal you to keep you for himself where he can isolate you. He’s a psycho, you have no idea what he could do to you. Babe, he’s a cop, he can get away with doing whatever he wants with you and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

“Trevor, no-” Frustrated and worried for him, Patton tried to find the right words. He didn’t want him to work himself into a paranoid breakdown and he hated hearing him to upset, yet he couldn’t quite accept what he’d said.

“Logan isn’t like that, he would never hurt me.”

“HE ALMOST KILLED ME YOU DUMB BITCH DON’T YOU SEE?!”

Patton flinched hard, almost dropping the phone. Shaking with sudden terror, he pressed himself against the cushions. Despite being half a city away, he expected to feel the consequences of this explosive anger for a terrible moment.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Logan stood in the doorway to the kitchen, framed by the colored glass and wood. He was clutching a dish towel in bruised hands, looking helpless. His dark eyes were large and worried, telling Patton he wanted to do nothing more than protect him somehow. Roman and Virgil were hovering behind him, frozen in their futile attempt to keep a wiggling Cat from climbing Roman’s back with sharp claws to get to the upper shelves and hover there in wait for unsuspecting victims. None of them looked anything like the abusive, controlling men Trevor was making them out to be. Patton had never seen the irony of his claims more clearly. He gave them a shaky smile.

Scooping the kitten up to his chest and holding it close, he braced himself.

“Trevor, please calm down. I’m so sorry you got hurt, but Logan was only trying to protect me. You left him no other choice. It wasn’t his fault.”

The unexpected reprimand was delivered softly, but it didn’t fail to have an effect. Trevor sounded taken aback. Once again, his tone changed seamlessly.

“You’re right, of course. I’m so sorry, babe. I- I deserve to get the shit kicked out of me, I shouldn’t have hurt you, you’re right, you’re always right. I don’t deserve you and I hate myself for what I did, please, I’m so sorry, I just want you to be happy. I’m so sorry I’m such a failure.” He rambled, his voice thick with tears and desperation. Horrified and a little disoriented at the sudden change, Patton rushed to reassure him.

“You’re not a failure! I’m so proud of you for how you wanted to try to fix things! You wanted to work on yourself and that is so good of you! I believe in you, you can get better! Please don’t say those things!”

Trevor’s response became soft as butter. He sounded so helpless, harmless.

“I can’t do it without you, though! Babe, I’m nothing without you! When I woke up alone I didn’t know how to go on. I love you so much, you’re the most important thing I have, you’re my babe. My love. I’ll try to be what you deserve, I’ll give you everything, I’ll listen to you, whatever you want, just please come home, don’t stay with that psycho. I don’t know what he told you, but he doesn’t love you like I do. He doesn’t need you.”

Patton froze. Yes, he was right. Logan didn’t need him.

His gaze fell on the clean floor at his feet, swept over the healthy plants, over Virgil whose cheeks were gaining color and Roman who was wrestling a confident stray, to Logan who was trying – and failing – to look like he was not watching Patton to see if he needed any help. Nicodemus sat on his shoulder nibbling a nut with both paws. The little animal had been adopted into a flat that was tidy and clean. There was no screaming here, no violent episodes, no broken glass in corners no matter how much Patton cleaned, no odd jobs that were barely legal and that forced Patton to pay the rent for both of them, no accusing looks and threatening, thick silences. Logan had his life under control. He didn’t need Patton in it.

Nothing could have prepared him for the relief he felt. Logan didn’t need Patton to make him eat or shower, to compensate for his unpredictable moods or to satisfy his emotional or physical needs. Logan didn’t need him to survive.

Patton had never truly felt the pressure he had been living with until this moment.

His narrow shoulders fell with an exhaustion that came with finally unwinding. Finally letting go. The thought of not being needed had always terrified him, until he had learned what it meant to be wanted, instead of needed.

“You’re right.” He muttered softly.

Trevor pounced on the change of heart with the desperation of a drowning man, modifying his tone to what he believed would make Patton so what he wanted, as the baker noticed.

“I know, babe. But it’s okay. You made a mistake with that man and you got in too deep with him, but I forgive you. I’ll always be there for you, I’d never leave you. Now everything can be different. Now you’ll come home and we’ll figure everything out.”

“No.”

A long, startled pause stretched on the other line.

“What-”

“I’m not coming home. I’m sorry. I really tried to give you what you need, but I’ll never be able to make things right for you. Only you can do that. Please get help.” He pleaded, making things quick before he lost his courage entirely. And softly, he added. “I love you.”

Patton hung up.

Astonished silence flooded the apartment. Though they had definitely tried not to listen, all three men were watching the patissier from the doorway of the kitchen, baffled at the abrupt cut the gentle baker had made.

The phone slipped from numb fingers and landed on the turquoise cushion with a dull thud. Patton was crying before any of them had the chance to process that he had just effectively evicted Trevor from his life.

His tears were hot on his cheeks and seemed to leave burning lines behind. Yet as he looked up through the haze he found not only endless patience and affection on the faces of the men he’d chosen over his boyfriend, but also awed pride.

They were proud of him.

Though he was crying, he felt nothing but relief.

********

During the next two days, Patton’s overwhelmed body and mind simply shut down. He was tired and drained to the bone by his injuries and the emotional stress his decision had caused him to the point of simply sleeping most of the time. Whenever he woke up, someone was there to fuss over him or at least he had a pet to cuddle. He was fed and cared for and finally, on the third day, he woke up and felt like he finally had the strength to face the world again. It felt like a new day.

That day was a Saturday and from what he could tell from the sounds of the apartment, the others were already awake. The shower was running next door and he could hear Logan’s annoyed voice grumbling and cursing from the bathroom over the running water. A moment later, Roman wailed his complaints about his ignored hygienic needs. Poor Logan really wasn’t safe anywhere.

Through the crack in the bedroom door, Patton saw the younger detective shuffle out of the bathroom in his silk night-gown with the large, smooth fabric adorned by a crimson flowery pattern threatening to slip over one shoulder, arms laden with the beauty products he had apparently not been able to wait for. There were little pieces of cotton stuck between the painted toes to protect the fresh coat of ruby polish. It made him waddle like a fancy duck. Surprised by his own feelings, Patton giggled. The moment the unexpected sound left his lips he knew he’d found his mission for the day. He’d make sure no one would have to worry about him anymore. The most important thing for him had always been to make his family happy and he had not been doing a very good job of it recently. He knew they’d worried and especially Logan seemed to have dealt badly with the knowledge that Patton had been with a troubled man and had refused the offered support. He must have felt very helpless.

He wouldn’t be the cause of any more worry. No Sir. Today, he’d smile and start making himself useful. It was hard to imagine how much they had to care for him in, well, the last few months, really. He’d been such a burden. The memories of Logan’s restrained, worried glances kept piling up in his head the more he thought about it. He’d asked so much of the poor man, how would he ever make up for it? The fact that he had slept away the days in the detective’s bed after literally having to be carried in his arms to safety felt impossible to wrap his silly little head around.

But now Patton felt some new hope. Yes, he was still hurting and yes, he was lost. More lost than he’d even been in fact. During all of his adult life, he’d been with Trevor. He’d always had him to focus on and structure his life around. Now, he was gone, along with the flat and the relationship that had given him stability and purpose. But the end of their life together had not ended Patton’s world as he’d been sure it would. He’d fallen and been caught in the most gentle embrace. This time, his laugh did not have to be forced. Especially considering his lovely Roman was the most exasperatingly adorable thing in the whole wide world for sure!

Having already passed the room, upon hearing the little giggle, Roman retraced his steps and stuck his ruffled head into the room. With the side cut and his uncombed hair standing up in a curled mess, Patton amended that an awkwardly strutting peacock might be more fitting than a waddling duck.

A happy peacock at that, since he brightened like sunshine as his attentive examination revealed his friend’s cheerful expression.

“Dearest Patton, the sight of your lovely face makes my heart soar! How are you faring this fine morning?”

“Morning, RoRo! I’m feeling like a new person!” Patton cheered with his sweetest smile, spreading his arms wide. His cheek was still tender and must have turned to a bluish purple, he knew, and his split lip protested when he smiled, but he didn’t bleed again, which was great.

The look of affectionate relief on his friends face was enough to melt Patton and make him feel so soft. How he adored Roman. He loved the way he looked so cute this morning, caught in the middle of his grooming, or the obnoxious need for attention that had probably made him sneak into the bathroom just as much as the desire for his rose-scented lotion. Sometimes, Patton thought he liked to annoy Logan just to enjoy the fact that his partner would scold him but still so obviously love him. Just to wake up and get to witness Roman harassing Logan during his shower (and most importantly get away with such a thing Patton would have been terrified to do) made him feel blessed and soothed his heavy heart. It was the atmosphere of this place – the sounds in all corners of the flat speaking of people comfortably going about their business. Not to mention the personal touches of everyone who lived here. One of Roman’s pictures hung above this very bed. Patton had looked at it a lot when he had woken up at night. The room was never really dark due to the timers on the planet-shaped lights spread around the room. He’d known about them from Logan’s confession of course, yet during his second night here, he’d noticed another endearing detail. The large image of a black, blue and purple cosmic nebula appeared to wake up in the near-darkness and became awash with a thousand glowing stars spread over the canvass. It was so beautiful and so thoughtful of Roman.

The next day, he’d found a book about renewable energy sources tidily filled with lavender and purple post-it notes in the chair next to the bed. And of course, he saw Logan’s presence everywhere. Though he’d been too tired to stay awake long, he’d examined the collectibles and self-built models of spaceships that had been strung from the ceiling or crammed between the books. Logan would not love to hear them called toys, but Patton still did, in the privacy of his mind. The more he cautiously snooped around, the more he found traces of the kid the serious detective tried hard to hide. There were a lot of detective novels with lovingly touch-softened pages and even quite a few comic books in the very bottom of the shelf. One was missing, probably swiped by Virgil to read half-hidden under the covers of his bed. Patton had wondered, tentatively, in his silly, hopeful moments, if he would be allowed to spread out his roots this way as well. The light gray hair floating through the sunlit patches of air in the bedroom suggested that maybe he already had.

Roman was more than happy to exchange him for his lotion and whatnot and sweep him into his arms, despite the dangerous wobble the cottoned toes caused him. Both he and Logan still insisted on carrying him everywhere, due to his ankle. He had a crutch, Logan had made sure to have everything he might need on hand, but he had never had the chance to use it.

The sleeping ball of fur was simply placed in his lap. It made a soft “Whrm?” noise upon being grabbed by a large hand and continued to sleep.

The living-room was filled with a delightful smell that wafted in from the kitchen like warm fog blanketing every surface. Virgil was humming to the quiet music Patton would describe as adorably punky be-bop. The edgy lyrics always made him think those kiddos needed a hug.

Roman settled Patton on a comfy chair at the long, wooden table in the kitchen where he could easily watch Virgil and wobbled to retrieve his lotions. Virgil stilled as he spotted them, spatula laden with an unflipped pancake in hand and pale feet bare on the clean floors. Pulling his sleep-messy curls back from his face, Patton grinned at him, genuinely happy to see his kiddo so at home and doing something he enjoyed. He had never had such an easy time summoning his smile and covering his aches and fears. And he would do just that! Virgil had been terribly silent and hurt the other day and Patton would make extra sure nothing reminded him of the things that had happened to him. He would not bring his failures and issues into this home anymore!

“Good morning, Virgil! What an eggsquisite day! I’ve never slept butter!” He chirped with perhaps a touch too much cheer, intending to make very sure his friend lost the concerned frown marring his pretty features.

Still, Virgil huffed a quiet laugh, shoulders sagging with relief.

“Morning Pat. Want some tea?” He mumbled.

“Sure! Let me help you, sweetie!” Patton offered, feeling perfectly capable of making his way around the kitchen with his minor injuries. He barely felt the cuts on his hand and arm anymore after Logan had diligently cleaned and checked them every day.

“Nah, it’s fine. I got this.” Virgil waved off his offer, worriedly waving the spatula in his direction to shoo him back into his seat. He looked like he would use it to coral Patton back into a sitting position if he had to. It was an endearing thought. Though he didn’t do well being catered to, Patton could see how comfortable Virgil was with the pancakes baking, the pretty, colorful fruits diced in a bowl behind him on the counter and the eggs bubbling in another pan. He’d claimed this space for himself and was ruling it confidently. The atmosphere was contagious. Patton couldn’t remember feeling so light and calm before breakfast in a long time. He was so proud of Virgil.

Instead of following his ever present urge to work to make the people around him happy and anticipate and fulfill their needs, Patton allowed himself to settle down and watch the fattening raccoon noisily demolish the fruit peels left for it on the counter. A moment later, a thick walled ceramic mug was placed before him, steaming with sweetened tea.

“Thanks a brunch!” He exclaimed, smiling in a way he hoped conveyed just how well he thought the former gang member was doing. He knew his praise made him shy, so he tried to convey his love and pride non-verbally as much as he could. Even so, Virgil flushed and ducked his head.

The sound of a closing door announced Logan’s immediate arrival and caused the barista to grab a grumbling raccoon under the belly and settle it on the floor with its bowl. After a quick wipe of the counter he was back to innocently flipping pancakes by the time the detective entered the room.

A quick burst of white hot fear shot through Patton. Had the raccoon not been allowed on the counter? Would Logan get angry? He’d been feeling very well a second ago, but now he could not help remembering how intimidating the tall detective could be in his rare, intense fits of anger.

The disgruntled glance Logan examined the counter with showed that he was not fooled about the whereabouts of the raccoon, but he said nothing about it. A little smile lit up Virgil’s face as he found that he was allowed to get away with his transgression. Neither man seemed inclined to pay more attention to the situation.

Patton hid a trembling sigh behind his cup, quickly recovering from his brief moment of shock. It was like missing a step and feeling like falling – frightening, but only for a moment. His little heart would slow down eventually.

“Good morning Patton, Virgil.” Logan nodded to the both, trying, and failing, to subtly examine Patton. The patissier smiled brightly at the taller man.

“Heyja Logan! Don’tcha worry, there is muffing wrong with me! Roman carried me here and Virgil wouldn’t let me help at all. I couldn’t hurt myself if I fried!” He joked, pleased with the way the sound of the sizzling pan underlined his puns.

A small twitch of his lip told Patton that the return of the puns was appreciated. He was so glad to see the man’s shoulders loosening. He refused to allow any dark thoughts to enter this flat today. The guilty dreams he’d battled during his tired days and nights had been more than enough. It was time to start over and make his friends smile as much as he possibly could. The mission invigorated him and filled him with a purpose he’d been so terrified to live without. He focused on it completely, finally managing to not feel torn by conflicting loyalties anymore. He’d managed to make a decision that was final and that allowed him to start a new chapter.

Roman joined them just in time to be fed, briefly having to squabble about his chair with Cat who liked to steal his spots in particular to place her paws on the table and creepily stare at everyone.

It occurred to Patton that this was the first time he got to experience a normal day at the flat.

Breakfast in Logan’s household was something Patton had imagined a lot while he’d brewed black coffee before the sun rose and tidily set the table in the hopes of making Trevor eat. He’d wondered what it would be like to see them all sitting together in the morning ever since Virgil had mentioned they ate together.

Very domestic, as it turned out. Whenever Roman wasn’t chatting, Logan and Virgil had short, quiet conversations, like they needed very little space next to the loud young man to understand each other. They all made sure to involve Patton and entertain him, while still trying not to demand too much. He must still feel very fragile to them. Or perhaps they did not trust his sudden good mood. Patton had the feeling he would have to deal with some issues sooner or later, as he always did when he pushed away his dark feelings during happier times at work, but for now he felt freed. There was no going back and for once, he felt too good to beat himself up. There was more than enough to distract him after all.

As the day continued he found that the members of Logan’s household tended to drift apart doing various things on their own without really being alone. Roman read magazines on the couch, occasionally showing the pictures to Patton or gossiping with him and later settled on a cushion on the floor to paint.

Logan would scowl at him and berate him about the growing radius of supplies scattered around him like debris after a colorful meteorite strike after he nearly brained himself from stepping on a paintbrush on his way to the kitchen. He buzzed around the flat with various cleaning supplies before he got busy with his books or laptop in his room or occasionally at his desk in the living-room, though he made his rounds through the flat like a clockwork, harassing people to drink water like a mother-hen. Even the pets were carried to their bowls whether they wanted to or not. Trying to scoot backwards between his feet to escape was pointless. Being a good pet lead to tasty rewards, though. Nicodemus clearly had it figured out long ago and was gazing at the poor, dumb beasts trying to evade the clumsy love and care with aloof pity.

Virgil snuck out of the flat for two hours with a gym bag once but otherwise he drifted through the rooms silently like a pale ghost, making snacks, working in his room or curling up with Patton in the very corner of the sofa to read quietly.

The patissier himself had been settled on the couch with a nest of pillows, surrounded by an odd collection of things his friends thought he might enjoy. Books and magazines, the remote control for Netflix kids, cookies and a tablet for scrolling through Pinterest, and set aside for when his hand was healed more, an adult coloring book and even knitting needles and a ball of rainbow-colored wool, both still packed together in plastic. Logan had left it for him like a reverse thief in the night, blushing bashfully.

Patton awoke from his nap as the shadows lengthened from the mid-afternoon sun. Before they’d all fallen into a food induced coma, Virgil had cooked lunch for them while Logan had diced the vegetables into very tidy squares. The creamy pumpkin soup with garlic-herb baguettes had made everyone sleepy and caused the comfortable silence that was still heavy in the air as Patton rubbed his eyes. He’d slept more than enough during the last few days. Freeing himself from the tangle of Roman’s long limbs, he quietly got up and headed for the kitchen. Though he’d been very well entertained, he couldn’t help the familiar urge that drew him to the workspace. Creating something lovely and tasty was the best way for him to put his mind at ease and he knew very well that too much time to think would hardly be a good idea. It would undoubtedly leave him spiraling with thoughts of who he’d left behind and allow him to remember of all of the threats Trevor had made about what he’d do if Patton ever decided to leave him in vivid detail. With Roman’s cheerful help, he’d already knitted a fair length of a quite uneven scarf in order to keep his mind pleasantly blank, making the kitten fall asleep after exhausting itself chasing after Patton’s wool. Yet, nothing soothed him quite like baking.

Logan had left the crutch within his reach so he now used it to get around. It was no trouble for Patton, since he knew the pain of walking on injured limbs would become ignorable with enough distractions after a while. After quietly easing the lovely doors shut so not to wake Roman snoring noisily on the sofa, Patton dared to roam around the beautiful, brightly lit kitchen like he’d dreamed for so long. The white, classy cabinets and the warm, wooden floor made the space so comfortable and inviting to him. He’d secretly dreamed a lot about what he’d do here given half the chance, and baking was only a part of those daydreams. He wasn’t serious of course. Daring to suggest redecorations in a flat where he actually had no business spreading his issues would be unbelievably rude and he did feel a bit ashamed of his thoughts, but it was just a harmless hobby, he told himself. No one needed to know.

First, he opened the balcony doors to let in the fresh air. There were a few sensible, evergreen plants placed around the sunny space, but otherwise Logan hadn’t done too much with it yet. Patton had so many nice ideas. Colorful cushions and low benches and maybe a pretty fabric pulled over the balcony to shield them from the brightness. And lots of cheerful flowers to go along with the useful herbs Logan or Virgil had planted there. And fairy lights for the evening. Also a few flowers on the table in the kitchen and perhaps some candles in varying shades of blue would made the space feel even more like a home. He could clearly imagine how well his professional, turquoise Kitchen-aid would fit in with the matching colors of the living-room.

He shook his head at his silly ideas. Best not to let a jumbled mind like his run wild, he’d only say something dumb and insult somebody.

Now, what could he bake to make himself useful? Logan had repeatedly said he could, (“‘Make yourself at home’, is, I believe, the correct figure of speech”), yet he was still a little shy about looking around. Would Logan even have baking supplies? He’d never heard him mention it before and he knew Virgil preferred to cook. Best have a look around and find out. Making extra sure to remember the way things were stored so not to make the tidy man mad at him, Patton started searching the cabinets like a slightly nervous kid during Easter. Bending and walking hurt and he got dizzy standing up to the point of almost toppling over, but he could handle that. While he found some useful baking pans and even a muffin-tray, as well as an old set of cookie cutter shapes he was quite intrigued by, the real prize awaited him in the little pantry whose door was discreetly placed in the far corner.

All of the wooden shelves along the walls were neatly labeled and most of the ingredients and supplies were stored in mason jars to protect against moths or stacked in pretty, weaved baskets. There was enough stuff to feed the whole household for weeks. Logan seemed to be a little on the paranoid side, which surprised – precisely - no one.

Curiosity awakened, Patton limped into the little room, examining the sections – rice, grain, soy, lentils, nuts, jams (lots), canned vegetables, oh – baking. Next to large mason jars filled with three different types of flour he found a whole section of the shelves near the back filled with baskets whose contents he was quite familiar with. He found one labeled ‘sugars’ filled not only with brown, powdered and white sugar, but also with an array of sugar-based decorations like sprinkles and a colorful selection of candies. Another box contained various little packages of baking soda, yeast, citrus-, rum- and butter-aroma, several spices like cinnamon, lavender, ginger, nutmeg and other little helpers. There even was a basket containing different kinds of chocolates, chocolate-chips and pure cocoa powder. Everything was still sealed in its original package.

Patton stood for a long moment, hands clasped over his mouth to stifle any sound, and just cried.

Why were they doing this?

He tried to grope for an explanation that did not make him look like a hopeful, deluded idiot. Had Logan or Virgil planned to learn how to bake? Patton didn’t think so. Before his mind’s eye, the image of Logan diligently researching baking supplies was clear as day. He’d gone shopping with Roman – the candies were far too elaborate and playful for the serious man, and perhaps Virgil had come too. Lavender and ginger were hardly part of the basic set. His clever barista had an eye for flavors though.

His lip hurt like a flash of white hot lightning as he bit it to stifle his gasps as he cried, alone in this tiny little room where Logan and his family had created a space for him. He didn’t even know why his tears had come this time, he just felt so overwhelmed. He should be laughing, but all he did was cry. All he ever did was cry. Virgil had had it much harder than him, he bet, but he was sure he’d never been this ridiculous.

Trying to pull himself together only made him gasp harder for a moment. He had to lean heavily on the sturdy shelves, making the glass jars filled with peaches and cherries clink together softly. Yet with the passing minutes, he calmed. Settling his gaze firmly on the supplies bought for him, Patton manage to ignore his dizziness and focus. To his own shock, a wheezing laugh escaped him. His chest felt jumbled and untidy with its storm of emotions, but a few were starting to gain the upper hand. Love, for one. He felt loved and he just loved these men so much in return. They’d made a group effort to give Patton what he wanted so much – what he’d always wanted in life. A place to belong. He was jittery with joy suddenly, and realized he was crying with happiness.

This was what he’d always looked for but had never gotten in his life with Trevor. A home where he was seen with all of his needs and wishes. A place where he was wanted and where he was allowed to just be. Knowing he wouldn’t dare to do it himself, Logan invited him to take space for himself instead of making him reduce his bothersome needs to the bare minimum. Sometimes he’d felt like Trevor’s mental illness had pushed everything else out and had not left enough space in their lives for more than one person, so Patton had to be less than that. Less emotional, less needy, less… himself.

He allowed another laugh, finding the feeling just so nice. He hadn’t indulged in the pleasure of laughing in so long. Grief and elation were so close together right now, he didn’t know how to tell them apart sometimes. His mood swings scared him a little, but then again, he’d always been a little all over the place. Messy.

His hands were salty with tears because he’d brushed them over his tear-damp cheeks, mindful of the purplish bruise. He’d have to wash them extra carefully. Now, time to bake and be well. He was determined to heal.

As he examined the ingredients, he realized that his bandaged hand wouldn’t make things easy for him, but again, what was new? He’d leave the crutch and just hobble around a bit. Like a rabbit. It would be fun.

But what would he bake?

As he rifled through the things he loved so much, the tastes and smells appeared in his mind, combining vividly with everything his fingers touched. The aromas of vanilla, cinnamon, citrus, butter and chocolate were as clear to him as if he were working with them right now. He tidied around himself a little as he thought, putting the packets back in order and turning to rearrange the jars with the various fruits nicely. The glass of cherries landed in his hands again and he thought of the German curse Logan had thrown Roman’s way this morning in the shower. Patton knew some German from his unfortunately brief time learning there. It had been the biggest adventure of his life! He hadn’t thought he’d be brave enough to go through with it, all alone on another continent. But the scholarship had been paid for and he’d just been so curious. Even Trevor, who had been doing better than he had in the last few years, had seen how much he wanted to go. And it had been so worth the apprehension. He’d found the place so quaint with its colorful half-timber houses, old shutters and geraniums at the windows and the people hadn’t been as strict as he’d feared at all. Actually, many had been just as confused as him. And he’d learned most of the popular curses from a colleague. That was something he couldn’t tell anyone of course.

Logan’s dad had been German, if Patton remembered correctly. He wondered if he would appreciate something from home, sort of. He didn’t even know if the detective had ever been there, but considering how well educated he was, he’d probably seen much more of the world than little Patton.

Mind made up and looking forward to getting dirty, Patton started gathering supplies and piling them on the counter – mercifully without dropping any of them because of his injured hand. The German Black Forest Cake was a favorite of Patton’s, even though he sometimes thought it could do with more cheerful colors. The only concession he would make would be to leave out the Kirschwasser, and not only because there was none to be found. Though he sometimes used alcohol to bake in his Pat-isserie, he’d never included any in the recipes he made at home. He’d grown up with the horrors of an alcoholic father and had lived in constant fear of losing Trevor to the same addiction. It was one of the only things he’d ever put his foot down in the relationship. He would have only little alcohol in the flat, if at all.

It was something he’d guiltily looked for in the pantry as well. He hadn’t really gotten to know Logan and Roman properly in their private space yet and he knew how men could show a different picture in public before revealing their struggles in the comfort of home. He tried hard to ignore that some part of him waited for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t found any hint of a terrible secret yet, though. There was some white wine in the pantry that looked cheap enough to cook with as well as a bottle each of sparkling-wine, Rosè and bourbon pushed into a corner with the gift-cards still attached. The wine was still in its paper bag and the carton of the bourbon was unopened. Well, Patton had had his own fair share of impersonal gifts to deal with, so he could understand the reaction of just sticking them somewhere out of sight.

Reassured, Patton decided to simply heat some cherry jam with water to spread over the chocolate cakes for the added moisture and mix it with almond extract to make some of the bitterness balance the sugar and replicate the sharpness of the alcohol.

After turning on the oven so the batter would have a warm and toasty home, he leaned against the counter to take the weight off his ankle and started measuring flour, salt, baking soda and cocoa powder for the chocolatey note and sifting them into a large bowl. The smell of the cocoa filled the room immediately and rose in the air like a powder soft cloud. Holding his tools carefully so not to have them slip because of his cottony bandage, Patton held his uninjured hand under the sieve as he shook the dry mixture into the bowl and sighed at the silk-like texture on his pale skin. The contact to soft, pleasant materials like yielding flour you could make satisfyingly smooth imprints in with your spoon, cool, brightly-colored sprinkles, or melting chocolate had always created a contrast to his life at home that could pull him out of his head and into the moment entirely. The darkened flour flowed down between his fingers like water, soft as flower-petals.

Pushing the mixture aside, Patton prepared the pan so the cake would come out without breaking into sad little pieces before preparing to separate the eggs. Beating the egg white into a solid cloudy mass and carefully mixing it with the rest of the batter would make the whole thing delightfully light and fluffy. Also, Patton loved the smooth and pure look of egg white clouds growing solid in flowing swirls in the bowl.

Knowing he’d need a little more space to work, the patissier pushed aside the pans quietly while grabbing another bowl for the egg-shells. In his mind, he was already a few steps ahead, which caused him to forget about his precarious grip on the smooth glass caused by his bandaged fingers. The pristine bowl slipped from his hand before he’d really noticed and shattered with a shockingly loud crash, exploding crystal-clear shards all over the ground.

Patton jumped in shock, terror stabbing through his insides like an ice-cold knife. His heart was racing instantly, cold sweat breaking out on his pasty skin. He stumbled backwards, instinctively wanting to hide, as a solid form appeared behind him.

The little patissier flinched hard, barely repressing a shriek as he was grabbed.

“Patton, please don’t be alarmed. I did not intend to startle you.” A calm voice rumbled in his ear.

For a long moment, Patton heard nothing but the deep baritone close to him and knew that he would be hurt with absolute certainty. His whole body trembled as his lungs struggled to work, adding dizziness to panic. He felt terrifyingly helpless.

Yet, the moment of being shaken, being beaten and tossed to the ground passed.

The smaller man’s rabbit-fast heart seemed to miss a beat from sheer relief as he was slowly released from his all encompassing terror. Logan hadn’t grabbed him, he’d wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back so his vulnerable, sock-clad feet had ended up standing on his running shoes, safely away from the sharp glass glinting in the mid-day sun.

Looking down at the image of himself standing on Logan’s feet like a child, Patton had to laugh despite his breathlessness. He was still reeling from his sudden fear, but the way he was being held was just too funny to keep his amusement at bay. Feeling him relax in his arms, the detective helped Patton turn around in his embrace so he could hold on to his shoulders and stand a little safer. Tension seeped out of him as Patton breathed out a sigh that seemed to release all of the tightness in his muscles. He held him closer carefully with his arms around his narrow waist. Despite neither having intended it, the hold turned into a comforting hug as Patton’s forehead fell against the cotton of the navy-blue t-shirt covering Logan’s shoulder.

The taller man had dressed for a run before he had been lured into the kitchen by tasty smells. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on Patton. The way he’d been so relaxed and competent with a soft smile on his lovely lips had just drawn him in. Now there was nothing separating them but two t-shirts warmed by their bodies. Getting lost in the moment, Patton turned his head to lay his cheek on the worn material, finally sinking against Logan’s chest like he should have days ago. They had both been so shy to touch for different reasons. He hadn’t realized how badly he had wanted this contact until now. His friend was so alive and reliable against his body. His chest expanded with quiet breaths Patton could feel warm against his neck and his heart beat a little too quickly against his own. Trustingly, he pushed himself close, liking the way he could feel so much more of the other man’s chest without the layers of pressed fabric between them. Every muscle in his back seemed to respond to the way Patton’s hands ran over them and he was getting absolutely lost in it. He even caused a little shiver in the stoic man that was just so adorably in character for him. He enjoyed that he knew that the detective was blushing even more hotly right now, despite how different the embrace was in some ways. For one, he was taller than usually, standing on the other man’s feet.

Logan ran a soothing, careful hand over the slender back without breaking the secure hold around the waist in his grip. With a little shifting, he managed to take the pressure off of the injured leg. The baker shouldn’t be standing up in the first place. Regrettably, he knew he’d better get him off his feet. He allowed himself a last breath of the pale curls though, smelling vanilla and cocoa and a warmth that came from Patton as much as from his own insides when he pressed him against his body. He was filled with protectiveness and affection so powerful it seemed to seep into every crevice of his being.

“We should avoid aggravating your sprained ankle. May I set you down on the counter?” He asked softly, mindful of how close his lips were to Patton’s ear so not to startle the relaxed creature in his embrace. He was gratified to notice how long the other appeared to need to respond, as if he was too relaxed to process the words. Indeed he could feel the small form grow pliant and heavy in his arms, trusting him to press him closer to hold him up.

“Hmn?” Blinking his eyes open, Patton lifted his face towards his friend, bringing them very close. Despite his bruised face, he was achingly pretty.

“Your ankle.” Logan reminded him gently, his deep voice resonating between them. “I would like to lift you onto the counter in order to avoid pressure on the pulled ligaments.”

“Oh, right.”

Growing more aware of his surroundings, Patton pulled back self-consciously and looked down at the broken glass, instantly pulling his limbs closer to his body to make himself smaller. Guilt coalesced in this chest.

“I’m so sorry I broke your bowl. I didn’t mean to make a mess. If you didn’t want me to clutter your kitchen I-”

“No!” Logan hastened to reassure him, uncharacteristically falling over his worlds in his fear for losing the pleasant atmosphere that had finally made Patton relax. “No, I am happy you are making yourself at home. Please utilize whatever you like. I enjoy seeing you and Virgil use the kitchen. And… I apologize for interrupting you.” He added self-consciously, already feeling a flush climb his cheeks. How could he be so rude?

Patton huffed a little laugh at how sweet Logan was to him. The last of his fear seemed to drain from him like sand running through the cracks of old stone. The more vulnerability the other showed him, the more confident in his wish to put him at ease Patton grew.

“Okay. Thank you.”

With a shy smile, Logan ducked his head. Shifting his grip, he gently wrapped his strong hands around the narrow hips and lifted the patissier up with barely an effort. Patton yelped despite having been warned and held on to the ever shifting muscle of Logan’s shoulders as they flexed under his hands. With a little giggle, he found himself safely deposited on the counter between the ingredients, a flushed, bashful detective standing before him. This time, they were pretty much of equal height. It was almost impossible to avoid eye contact this way, since his usual strategy of looking over Patton’s shoulder when embarrassed failed to work this way. Logan gazed at the tender, hazel eyes for a long moment before he couldn’t handle his shyness anymore. Ducking his head, he mumbled something about checking his ankle if he did not mind and suddenly he was gone.

Having swept the glass aside unceremoniously, he had crouched down and started brushing leftover glass dust from the cheerfully colored socks. Shocked at the sudden, ticklish sensations, Patton laughed in delight and pulled his feet up protectively, hugging his legs to his chest. Logan pulled his hands back abruptly.

“I apologize. May I examine your ankle for additional injuries?” He asked patiently, looking up from the ground at Patton far above him. The little patissier’s breath caught as the humbleness of the gesture sunk in. Logan was literally kneeling before him, keeping his hands loosely folded in his lap as if in prayer. The moment suddenly felt terribly intimate.

Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Patton lowered his feet slowly, wanting the attention the man before him was offering yet feeling oddly bashful. He looked vulnerable like that, settled at his feet as if waiting for a benediction, hopeful and undemanding. Even after Patton had uncurled, he waited for his nod before taking hold of his foot with the utmost care. First, he made sure no glass had caught in the material of his sock before carefully pulling the material down. The air felt cool on his foot in comparison to the warmth of Logan’s hand as he cradled his ankle to avoid moving it after slowly unraveling the bandage that gave him stability. Patton’s breath caught as those long fingers softly brushed over the swollen area.

“I’m sorry. I did not intend to hurt you.” The detective offered immediately, stopping his explorations.

“It’s fine. You’re really- um- really nice about it. Toetally sweet. I am head over heels with how you take care of me!” Patton joked, softly kicking his now neglected feet. He felt good. Fluttery, somehow.

He saw Logan bite back a small smile and allowed himself to enjoy the bright happiness heating his insides. The loving attention seemed to warm his limbs with an exciting sensation washing through him. His friend’s slightly calloused hands closed around his calf to hold him still as he examined his foot, before carefully brushing the back of his fingers over his sole to make sure no glass had cut him or was still stuck to his skin. A shiver ran down Patton’s body that was only partially due to ticklishness. The room had become intimately silent while Logan re-wrapped the still slightly swollen joint.

“You are healing adequately.” He muttered, sounding satisfied. Yet he did not appear to be ready to release Patton. Gently insistent, he made sure to check the other foot for cuts and glass before replacing both socks and even rubbing some warmth into the now a little cool toes tenderly. Patton felt soft.

Logan demanded Patton stay on the counter while he cleaned up the glass, so he kicked his feet softly and watched the unfamiliar scene of having somebody contently clean up for him. Once he was done, he asked for his hand to examine it with a critical glance.

“You should allow your injuries sufficient time to heal to ensure optimal flexibility. Some of your cuts were deep enough to damage the muscle tissue underneath the skin.” The detective complained softly. Despite his criticism, he cradled the smaller hand gently between his own while brushing his thumb over the back soothingly. Patton hunched his shoulders guiltily.

“You’re right, of course. I’m really sorry, Logan. I just get so antsy and then I need to do something, you know? I should have known better, but I have to work whenever you’re not around to take care of me too, so I thought… never mind. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” He asked in a small voice.

“There is no need to apologize, Patton. I have no right to dictate your actions and I did not intend to lecture you.” He appeared to puzzled over a problem for a moment while he gently rubbed the hand in his grasp.

“I would like to help you fulfill your need for productivity. Do you suppose you would still be satisfied if I acted on your behalf? I am not a proficient baker, but I should be able to follow your instructions with reasonable accuracy.”

Patton brightened instantly, immediately taken by the idea.

“You would bake with me? Really? I thought you wanted to go out. You’re dressed for a run...”

“It is of no consequence. Allow me a moment to put my trainers away and wash my hands, then we may proceed according to your wishes.”

Oh, the patissier was awed by the idea. He loved baking with friends, it was such a comfortable thing to do! He just hoped Logan really wouldn’t mind following his instructions or grow bored or irritable. He was such a patient and skillful man, though. What could possibly go wrong?

As it turned out, baking didn’t come as naturally to Logan as it did to Patton. The detective listened respectfully and attentively, but even though he did as the baker asked, somehow, even the most simple things went differently for him than for Patton. Even during his first task, the egg yolks threatened to break and fall into the egg whites as he tried to separate them, which would ruin any chance of creating a solid structure when beating them. They’d only cracked one egg and already three pasty pieces of calcium-white shells were floating in the bowl. Of course Patton would never dare to interrupt Logan’s efforts. He didn’t want to make him feel bad or risk the anger hurt pride so often brought about, yet he itched with the wish to take a hold of his hands and guide them.

Depositing the shells in their bowl, the detective huffed a frustrated sigh and turned to the patissier.

“Patton, would you please help me improve?”

The smaller man brightened like a flower opening in the sunshine. He hadn’t expected Logan to allow him to show him how to do something, much less ask for support. He instantly felt at ease and appreciated. Once again, he was awed by how confident and composed this man was. It was wonderful not to have to fear aggression caused by a feeling of inferiority.

Once Patton knew his aid was appreciated, they worked together so well. Often, he would reach across the counter he was sitting on and direct the older man’s hands to show him the motions he needed or guide his hands so the cherries would be spread uniformly or the cakes would be cut into even layers by turning the plate as he moved the knife through it. Though Logan blushed and was clearly embarrassed at not performing to perfection, he never snapped at Patton or held his interference against him. After a few hours of companionable baking, Logan had proven himself to be grateful for his advice and guidance and had even made him flush with pleasure a few times by complimenting his skills.

The patissier had been floored by the admiration and respect he’d seen in the detective’s eyes as he’d spoken about skills Patton had perfected or the amount of information he could provide about the process of creating textures and flavors. Logan spoke about temperature, chemistry and components reacting to each other but to Patton, it was just experience and feeling and fun. Baking wasn’t hard, was it? Anybody could to it. Yet, as he scooted close to the man he thought could do everything perfectly and gently guided his motions as he evenly spread the cream around the layers of chocolate cake, cream and cherries, he thought perhaps he could be a little more proud of his abilities.

Their eyes met over the cake, causing them both to still. They were very close.

“I learned a lot from you, Patton. Thank you for your patient instructions.” Logan muttered softly, as if he feared disturbing the quiet that had comfortably settled between them.

The smaller man grinned, his face bright with joy. “Aww thank you! I really enjoyed baking with you, you did such a good job! I’m really proud of how well you did and we worked so well together, I really felt we have a confection!”

Both felt warm with affection and appreciation for the other, smiling softly. The silence between them felt comfortable as Patton showed Logan how to place the chocolate shavings at the side of the cake with practiced ease. His flour-dusted curls brushed along the taller man’s chin. The detective slowly reached up, showing his movements clearly, and brushed them back behind the patissier’s ear with deliberate tenderness. Patton’s breath caught. He’d hardly noticed how close they’d become. His thigh was a warm line of contact with Logan’s hip where he leaned against the counter. He felt very warm, suddenly.

His little heart fluttered excitedly as Logan’s dark eyes held contact with his. He was reminded abruptly of how handsome he was with his dark lashes usually half hidden by black-framed glasses and raven hair contrasting sharply with his pale skin. Despite wearing only a t-shirt and close fitting workout pants instead of a suit and tie, his even features made him look distinguished.

Patton shivered with a sudden burst of pleasure as he realized that his pale brown locks were still woven around the others fingers, causing a lovely, lightning-bright sensation when he moved. The detective let the cool strands slip through his hands with a look of wonder on his face, his touch so soft it felt like nothing more than a caress.

After a long moment, Logan smiled. The expression seemed to light up his whole face and soften his eyes. The usually so serious man looked deeply content in a way he hadn’t seen till today. Patton’s heart seemed to miss a beat and a sensation quite like falling made his whole body feel light and giddy.

———-

Please reblog my work, my darlings!

ART:

Have a disheveled Patton in an oversized sweater to make your day better!!!

Keep him safe is now a Meme together with To build a home which is too cool! Thank you @lemon-the-ups-man

And how adorable and surprisingly deep is this image of Patton with a little smile (and a bruise on his cheek, oh no) by @not-safeforsanders

Look at this cool concept for a cover up for Virgil’s tattoo made by @lissaslifestory! Lots of others helped with tips as well. Its really well thought out and there’s even a drawing!

And there is a picture drawn of it that I just found!!! @doctorwhooian made it and it’s lovely!

FICS:

@broadwaytheanimatedseries  did some work on the amazing first chapter of Keep her safe and made it even better!

THEORIES:

I loved this idea about Roman’s father and his reaction to Ro and the issues he and Virgil could face in high society so much, especially because a lot of people pitched in. Have a look if you like!

Next Chapter

#Sanders Sides #Detective AU #Keep him safe

[one-night-story]

And I Still Hear The Echoes (Leon from Pokémon)

A/N: y’know, I really wish I could explain this, but I can’t. First person to figure out who Keyanna’s “Boss Man” is gets a cookie and kudos.

Keyanna was sitting on her front porch. It was far too enjoyable, Galar was nicer than Alola on days like this. She would’ve been hiding in the House if she was still there, but a late morning here with a cup of cold brew coffee felt… nice. An unnatural feeling until very recently. Her Houndoom, Enyo, was sitting on the bottom step, watching the field. She was waiting for the call to go scare some trainers, but Keyanna hadn’t spotted anything. Until a guy popped up in the distance. Enyo whipped her head around and swished her tail.

“Hang on, if he comes this way, I’ll give you the go.” Keyanna said. She watched the figure and watched as he wandered into the grass in front of her house. “Alright, Ens, go for it.” She said as she watched Enyo race to go spook the trainer. The trainer threw a Pokeball and out popped a Charizard and Keyanna paled slightly, she hadn’t been expecting that, and he could take Enyo out in a heartbeat. “Allura,” she muttered. Her Espeon poked her head up from the chair she was laying on. “Go help Enyo.” She said. Allura stretched out and ran toward the fight. It went on for a couple of minutes when Enyo came back, limping. Keyanna jumped up from her chair and put her mug down before racing to see what the fight was shaping up to be. The trainer’s Charizard was battered and so was Allura, she was on the doorstep of knocking out. “‘Llura!” Keyanna exclaimed. She hadn’t expected that, though maybe she should have. But she couldn’t think about that as she cautiously protected Allura.

“She’s yours?” The trainer asked. Keyanna flashed a dangerous glare in his direction. She sure as hell hope it scared him, despite it not being a gaze she’d used in almost a month.

“Of course! You didn’t expect to find a random Espeon did you?!” She snapped. Keyanna looked back towards the house. “Kama!” She shouted. An Arcanine came bounding toward them and stood next to Keyanna waiting for orders. “Help Allura into the house.” She said as she picked up Allura and placed her on Kama’s back. Kama went back towards the house and Keyanna glared at the trainer before looking at the Charizard. “He’s banged up, I’ve got potions at my place, it’ll be cheaper and faster than trying to get to the Pokemon Center from here.” She said. She placed her hand out and allowed for the Charizard to investigate it. “How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” He asked.

“It’s not me you have to worry about, you pissed off Enyo.” She said as she started walking back toward the house.

“The Houndoom?”

“Yeah,” She said. “Are you coming?” She said as she stood in the grass. The trainer and his Charizard wandered along with her as she stomped toward the house. As they approached both her Luxray, Vitani, and her Mightyena, Fenrir, went up in alarm. Fenrir growled at the Pokemon that had harmed his friend. Fenrir and Enyo had always been Keyanna’s fiercest protectors, and no one was going to get close to her without both of them giving the go ahead. Vitani, the new kid on the block was just willing to prove herself, and she and Allura were close. “Stand down, both of you, he’s friend for now.” She said. Fenrir eased to sitting but was still on edge and still looked like he’d like to tear the Charizard limb from limb. Vitani fell in step with Keyanna as she started to walk into the house.

“He’s not gonna fit in the door,” The trainer remarked. Keyanna turned around and looked up. He was probably right.

“Go through the side gate, I’ll meet you out back.” She replied. The trainer nodded and wandered around her side of the house. Keyanna strode inside and thanked the stars that Boss Man had stolen potions for her before she left Alola. She grabbed a max one, a hyper one, and two regular ones. She wandered to her backyard where her Ninetails, Lafayette, was basking in the sun. She tossed the hyper one to the trainer and wandered over to Allura. “Hey, hey, I know, lemme help.” She said as she sprayed her down. Allura soon enough was healed, but charging a psybeam at the Charizard. “Hey! ‘Llura, no.” Keyanna said, getting in the way. She then sprayed the two potions on Enyo, who then was also ready to square back up with the Charizard that had almost taken her out. “Ens! No.” Keyanna snapped. Enyo sat down and flicked her tail. The trainer summoned Charizard back to his pokeball so he didn’t have to worry about another battle. Keyanna was thankful for that.

“They’re tenacious, I’ll give them that.” The trainer said. “No doubt something they learned from their trainer.” He added. Keyanna looked at him and tried to not glare at him, but her nerves were still a little fired. She realized it had been her fault, but she’d never been so scared for Allura, easily the squishiest of her team. She let out a sigh instead, trying to calm herself down.

“Yeah well, kind of a requirement.” She muttered. Boss Man would’ve had her head if she hadn’t gotten her Pokemon as strong as she could.

“What’s your name? Figured I should at least apologize for almost knocking out your Espeon. I’m assuming she has a name too.” He said.

“Her name’s Allura. I’m Key.” She said.

“How many times have you gotten the Klefki joke?” He joked. Keyanna glared and that seemed to give him enough of an answer. “Okay, so a lot then.” He said. “Well, thanks for healing Charizard, and I’m sorry for Allura and Enyo.” He added using their nicknames, which she appreciated. Keyanna looked him properly without the air of anger and annoyance now knowing that her Pokemon weren’t in immediate danger. He was cute. Almost offensively so. A mess of purple hair, his hand behind his head like he was nervous which just brought attention to his arms, and very much taller than her. The tension that usually hung in her shoulders eased as she scoffed to herself, almost mad about what she was about to propose.

“You want a cup of coffee? As an apology for snapping at you.” She said.

“I don’t want to --”

“You’re not gonna impose or whatever. I’m not doing anything today, other than scaring trainers.” She said. “I have Tapu Cocoa if you don’t like coffee.” She added.

“Tapu Cocoa?” He asked.

“Alolan specialty, I used to work with a guy who’s lifeblood was made of the stuff. I’ve gotten pretty good at fixing it up to be perfect.”

“Alright, then yeah, I’ll take a mug.” He said with a smile. Oh now that was just rude, he lit up her backyard in a way that even Kama couldn’t manage. It was warm, trusting even. She so didn’t deserve it, but she was willing to humor it for as long as he stayed in the dark about everything that made her who she was. She gestured for him to come inside and he cautiously wandered inside, well aware that most of her Pokemon wanted him dead. Kama stayed out back as did Lafayette, Allura, and Enyo. But as soon as she came in, Vitanti and Fenrir went back to flanking her as she moved through the kitchen.

“Ens, come help.” She said. Enyo trotted into the kitchen and blew a little bit of fire at the bottom of the kettle to get the water to speed boil. She set it on the stove and grabbed a container of Tapu Cocoa. She looked in and saw that her homesick nights were taking their toll, she was going to have to see if she could negotiate with Boss Man to get more. Keyanna carefully scooped three scoops of the stuff into a mug before pouring the water in, she quickly added milk before stirring it all. A dash of cinnamon for good measure… “Voila, Tapu Cocoa, raved about from here to Alola.” She said as she handed the mug over. She poured herself another mug of cold brew since she had left hers on the porch, and it had been empty. “C’mon, let’s sit on the back porch, everyone’ll be able to hang out there.” She said. Vitani, Enyo, and Fenrir ran for the backyard, Lafayette barely poking his head up at their appearance. Kama was lying like a sphinx in the back corner knowing he was too big to play with the others, but still wanting to if Fenrir challenged him. Keyanna eased herself into one of the deck chairs as Allura went to join Lafayette in basking in the sun. The trainer sat next to her in the other chair and took a sip of the Tapu Cocoa.

“Holy-”

“I know,”

“I think I understand why your coworker was addicted.”

“That, and he had the world’s largest sweet tooth.” Keyanna commented. It was moments where she missed him, though she didn’t think she was allowed to admit that out loud to herself yet. She looked over at her morning guest and admired his everything about as stealthy as she could, which from a couple years of training was pretty damn stealthy. He had a mess of purple hair which was trying to be tucked under a snapback, much to the hat’s strain. He wore a simple black shirt and pants and really chunky sneakers. He had a bit of stubble on his face and his eyes were the color of amber. She’d definitely call Boss Man now, if only for giving her so much practice sneaking glances. “What’s your name by the way?” She asked. He knew hers, and all her pokemons’. Seemed only fair. He gave her a smaller smile than the one he had given her earlier and offered up his hand, though there was a slight look of confusion in his eyes.

“I’m Leon, sorry I don’t usually have such poor manners.” He said. Keyanna shook it with a mild vigor.

“Nah, I’ve been around people with worse, trust me.” She said. Keyanna then dropped his hand and took a sip of her cold brew.

“You said something about scaring trainers?” He asked. Keyanna scoffed.

“Yeah, just a little game I play. Nothing serious if that’s what you’re worrying about.” She said. She wasn’t certain why she felt the need to justify her actions to this functional stranger, maybe it was her brain’s attempt to actually start turning over a new leaf, not just becoming a hermit in the grasslands. “Could show you, if you’re curious.” She muttered. She was acting like Boss Man and she knew it pretending that she was a brick wall of emotionless rage, but what could she say, you spend so much time with someone, quirks start rubbing off. “I’ve got nothing better to do today.” He said. Keyanna lit up in a little bit of a smirk.

“Alright. Gang!” she said as she called to her Pokemon. The group poked their heads up with curiosity. “Who wants to go play?” She asked her smirk still etched on her face. Enyo, Kama, and Fenrir let loose mighty woofs. Vitani seemed to glow. Lafayette and Allura came from their patch of sunshine and made general noises of approval. “Then let’s go ya knuckleheads!” She said as she came off the back deck and wandered to the side gate. Leon followed behind her and they found themselves sitting on the front porch. Enyo and Fenrir resumed their spots on the bottom step, sitting in wait, wagging their tails. Vitani was sitting next to Keyanna, accepting the pets given to her. Allura seemed to have forgiven Leon, or the fact that he was sitting in her seat was just an inconvenience as she curled up in his lap. Lafayette was laying in the sun on the lawn proper. The two trainers watched the grasslands, Keyanna waited for someone unsuspecting to wander by. Soon enough, a young trainer came into the grass. Fenrir and Enyo perked up. Keyanna leaned over to Leon.

“What Pokemon do you think he has?” She asked. Leon seemed to analyze him carefully, almost like he had a lot of practice with it.

“Normal.” he said. Keyanna nodded and stroked Vitani’s cheek.

“Wanna go play pretty?” She asked in a tone of voice she only used with her Pokemon, something far softer than anything she’d used with humans. Including Boss Man. Vitani let something resembling a purr out and ran down the steps at the trainer, who immediately spooked but stood their ground.

“You call this scaring trainers?” He asked.

“Hey, that kid’s got what… one? Two Pokemon max? None that’s gonna do any serious damage to her. It’s fine, she gets a workout, they get some training, and they get to believe they took on a wild Luxray. A win win all around.” Keyanna remarked. Leon nodded at her explanation. She had created the game when she had first moved to Galar, her team was going stir crazy since she wasn’t running around like a fool anymore, and this got them some exercise in. Vitani came running back in perfectly fine shape and flicked her tail as the trainer wandered off.

“Don’t you train them yourself?” Leon asked.

“I gave up battling, was never my speed.” She said. An oversimplification, but she wasn’t gonna dump her backstory to this stranger. As Allura settled into his lap, Keyanna let a chuckle escape her lips

“Is Allura always this affectionate?”

“No, she’s just mad you’re in her spot. Sort of sitting on you in hopes you get annoyed with her enough that you’ll get up.” Keyanna explained. Allura chirped in agreement and thwacked Leon’s arm with her forked tail. Another trainer appeared, he looked a little more experienced than the other one had.

“He’s definitely got a bunch of flying.” Leon commented. “Send Fenrir,” he suggested. Keyanna snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye, surprised that he was getting into it.

“Fens,” Fenrir looked over, tail still wagging. “Go play,” she said. Fenrir bolted into the grass and gave a mighty bark, actually managing to scare the trainer before the trainer snapped into action sure enough, a Fearrow appeared. Fenrir proceeded to have a field day and came running back like a happy puppy. “Good boy,” Keyanna said as Fenrir ran onto the porch to receive pets.

“How long do you do this?” He asked.

“Eh, depends. Sometimes everyone gets a turn, sometimes just a couple go out. I one spent one night with just Kama.” She replied. That had been a rough night, she’d been a mess, her first night away from Boss Man and the rest of the squad and she had never felt so downright lonely in her life. Not when she’d shown up in Alola originally, and not when she’d made the decision to leave Kanto. Kama and her had spent the night running around the grasses like she was still a carefree kid. She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Why’d you come out here? You’re Charizard’s clearly a contender and a half, so it can’t be for training, so why come out here?” She asked. Leon seemed to think the answer over, an eddy of emotion spinning in his eyes that Keyanna imagined she didn’t have the context for, so she simply waited for him to pick and choose his words.

“Soul searching.” He said.

“Soul searching?” She asked. He took a sip of cocoa and stared out at the field.

“Yeah… I uh… kind of need to find out what I should do next.” He said as if that was all she needed to know. Keyanna was clearly missing pieces so she looked at Leon again, more obviously this time, silently trying to figure out what she was missing. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked as he ran a hand across his mouth. Keyanna chuckled.

“Nah, just… nothing. Sorry.” She said as she turned back to the field in front of them. Allura perked up from Leon’s lap and wandered over to lay in Keyanna’s lap, clearly sensing some mild distress. “I should know better,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, I’m used to being stared at.”

“So am I.” That statement took Leon by surprised as he tilted his head like a confused Rockruff pup. He didn’t press the matter but instead turned back to his mug, only to find it empty.

“I should head out,” Keyanna tried not to deflate too much. She hadn’t spoken to anyone other than her squad since moving in, so having real human interaction was good for her.

“Right, sorry.” She said as she moved Allura to her own chair as she and Leon stood up. 

“Don’t… don’t apologize,” Leon said as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “If anything, I should be thanking you for the cocoa and apologizing again on going to hard on Allura.” He said as he looked at the Espeon curling up in the heat he left behind. Keyanna chuckled.

“I think she forgives you,” she said.

“Does her trainer?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head. Keyanna almost wanted to throw things. How dare this grown ass man be so damn adorable?

“She could be convinced,” she settled on with a smirk. Leon stepped down off her porch, careful to not step on Enyo or Fenrir’s tails as he stood in her yard.

“I hope I find my way back, but thank you for the cocoa and preventing Fenrir from ripping my arm off.” He said with another grin that was far too warm and kind for anyone like her. 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you Leon,”

“Be seeing you Key,” He said and he turned and walked back into the grass. Keyanna watched him go and tried not to think about it too much. Vitani looked up at her and Allura slung herself over Keyanna’s shoulders, something she hadn’t done in forever.

“Shut it, both of you…” she muttered.

#pokemon #Pokemon fanfiction #leon (pokemon) #champion leon imagines #Leon pokemon imagines #he has too many tags