#there absolutely needs to be a reckoning with that lol

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | diasomnia

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. malleus, lilia, sebek, silver

content. gender neutral reader as usual, mentions of murder by lilia's cooking, someone faints lol

note. finally last part after ten years /j

malleus

goes absolutely silent but his surprise is definitely there -> eyes widen, brows raise on a miniscule scale. you'd think the guy would be all lowkey about his joy but five seconds later and there are comical sparkles surrounding his face.

I mean. you had to formally confirm that you two were friends before, and you had off-handedly linked his name and best friend in the same sentence a few months later (he was bursting for like a week.) and now all that?

thrown away, nu-uh. you two are NOT friends no more, he doesn’t have a single care in the world. he's throwing the friends label off a cliff with his foot and skipping off with joy cause you just got upgraded to the next ruler of briar valley wink wonk.

or perhaps you'd like being referred to as his consort? he can always make the people refer to you as both.

if you're wondering why he's so silent all of a sudden; malleus: already thinking of how he'd decorate the castle when you move in with him. maybe... he can break down the wall to link your two bedrooms together—wait no he'd very much like to share the same room instead..

"child of man, do you prefer violet or green?"

"uh... green...?"

"excellent choice, you have my gratitude."

the thing you should be asking is 'why' because it's either the main color theme of your wedding or the gem he'd engrave on your ring (he's very happy it's green though, since it'd be a constant reminder of him.. oh he knows! he should get his a color of your eyes too—)

someone stop him.

lilia

spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses

more knowledgeable than malleus about the level up of relationships so he doesn't jump from best friends to newlyweds immediately. actually he doesn't even need a label, if you're going around kissing him he's just gonna act like you two are a married couple without a confirmation on your status'

"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"

"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*

ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.

ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.

kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.

pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—

"lilia are we dating."

"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"

he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.

#chill

silver

if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?

sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses

I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)

he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?

a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.

and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.

perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..

"did you touch my lips?"

"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"

"..."

"..."

*passes out*

is he dreaming?

sebek

in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.

totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!

scandalous. he knows.

raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.

you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?

WHAT IN TARNATION!

stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.

"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..

"why are you so quiet."

if only you knew.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst fluff #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #x gn reader

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Sagau another episode of reader getting pissed of for someone insulting some of thier favourites while begin bored when someone insults the reader to the point of counting how many times someone used some type of insult

Lyney and lynette begin bad mouthed becose they are form house of hearts reader will just launch a lawsuit for badmouthing thier favorites

Furina begin insulted by some pepole whonate not form Fontaine well the reader will want to throw them and drown under water thoses pepoles

That random who interrupts childe when he was talking to traveler and reader in fontain.....well begin punching bag for fatui harnbringer is now a mercy compared to how much the reader who......PURCHESE THE STEAM ROLLER AND DRIVES OVER ON THIS MO-* sorry for tehicaly dificulty*

PART 3 IT IS BABY LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO

Thank you so much for requesting, @zardas75 ! I would've been more dead otherwise lol :')

Click Me For Part 1! Click Me For Part 2!

When Someone Insults Lyney, Lynette, Furina, and Childe! (No Vice Versa Today, Sorry!)

(Warning: Slight Spoilers to 4.0 Archon Quest & Might be OOC!)

Lyney

He was utterly flabbergasted that you would go out of your way for Lynette and he. I mean sure—he felt absolutely blessed and grateful that you would personally be his attorney (along with the Traveler & Paimon), but he did not expect you to jump on people that were insulting him because...of where his origin lies with.

It wasn't surprising that the entirety of Fontaine came to hear about the court case that held trial to press charges for a murder he didn't commit. so Lyney can't say he wasn't expecting the rumors, but you? Yeah, you were an entirely different wildcard than to those he's usually familiar with.

Lemme tell you, he was not prepared for you to be all up in the harasser's merchandise. If this was a trial duel to defend one's honor—you were not the champion duelist that made the opponent surrender. You were the opponent about to end the champion duelist's entire career.

This harasser was good at trash talking and gossiping—they were quite a hard opponent to overcome and beat, and here's you running your mouth about them and quite literally ending their career in a matter of minutes.

As much as Lyney would find this amusing after 5 minutes of overcoming the shock, some of the things you were saying were....a little too horrifying he'll be honest. So, rather to save himself than the insulter, he smoothly interrupts your "conversation."

"Ah, Your Grace! Welcome Back to Fontaine! May I Have the Pleasure to show you our latest magic tricks? Lynette and I have been practicing for our upcoming show!"

With your *cough* favoritism *cough* good mood shining through the previous rage that befelled your face, you of course accept to see more magic tricks appear out of the Great Magician twins!

And that was how Lyney hopes to never get you in a bad mood ever in your stay in Fontaine. He doesn't want to see you smiting anyone for anyone.

Lynette

She's like Lyney, but more muted. She's honored that you would protect she and Lyney from this insulter, but if she was to give her opinion, it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. After all, with being well-known, there was bound to be both ups and downs eventually.

She'll admit, she was...pretty afraid after hearing many of the things you were spitting at the rapidly paling face of the insulter in front of you. After all, smiting people with the wrath of the power beyond all the gods was...terrifying and a true force to be reckoned with.

She's immediately helping Lyney to distract you from the situation while also giving well-hidden death glares at the insulter for making you mad. The last thing they needed was for you to deem Fontaine not a good nation.

"Tada~ I hope you liked that magic trick, Your Grace...If you would like, I can reserve a ticket for the best seat at our upcoming magic show for you to watch."

Lynette is both afraid and awe-struck of your abilities as the Creator. That doesn't mean she'll show it, of course.

Furina

In my personal opinion, I think Furina is both loved and hated by the people of Teyvat. While she is mostly loved by her nation, others (like Neuvillette) can't stand her or her enigmaticness.

You, as the Creator, understand both love and hate, but of course choose to love Furina regardless of her...dramatic and soap opera-levelled ideas. While you can respect other people's opinions...cursing and badly insulting them was just crossing the line for you. And you were not going to let it pass without planting your foot down first.

And, of course, Furina soaks up everything you said like a sponge to water. You, the Creator, beyond Celestia itself, were willing to defend her? If this were a live soap opera in the Opera Epiclese, Furina would say she was a 100% fan of you!

Alas, as much as she loves for you to go on, she is an idol within Fontaine. The last thing she needs is for her own people to think Fontaine might get smitten because of one insulter. After all, gossip changes the raw truth to make itself more interesting.

"Ah, Your Grace! I just so happens to realize that there will be a trial held in the Opera Epiclese. For, if you have the time to spare, wish to find new inspiration for your next creations, please—allow I, Lady Furina, to escort you there! Hehe, I can certainly garuantee that you will get the V.I.P. view up there with me!~"

And, since you have a soft spot for Furina, you happily accept. After all, you can get to know the Hydro Archon better than before, even if you don't like court sessions! It's a win-win for you. And at least that insulter will now think before striking again.

Next thing you know, gossip around Fontaine says that those who are granted visions are personally favored forevermore by the Creator, and that you should never cross with one else you face the wrath above the gods.

Childe

Boy oh boy...If you are an old Tartaglia/Childe Fan, this is for you. You were absolutely ecstatic that Childe was in Fontaine! I mean—he even came in the game's archon quest in a badass-ish way!

And OF COURSE you had to teach the guy annoying your boy a lesson. Like, hello??? You blind??? This is your boy here! What is this old man thinking?

So of course, you did. And you gave that man quite the scare. The Traveler and Paimon look at you taking this situation as both a physical and verbal showdown very calmly, since this wasn't exactly the first time you blew up at people.

Childe, however? Boy, he's taking notes. Your threats and insults were very interesting and unique—as expected of the Creator. And the fact you just summon a bamboo stick outta thin air and proceeded to give the man some back problems? The harbinger's wondering if he can borrow that idea as inspiration...

Nevertheless, he doesn't want to deal with court just yet, so he'll (unfortunately) step in and save this person's backside. Besides, he still owes mora to Northland Bank.

"Ahaha, Your Grace! Your prowress seems to only become stronger and even more gracious since we last met—as expected!" He grins at you. "How 'bout you leave him to me, though? He still owes the bank some mora."

And so you watched Childe beat up the man and yk the rest is history. Safe to say you were somewhat satisfied. One thing's for sure though—Childe 100% dedicated this battle to you. You did give him some inspiration to fight, after all!

AND WE ARE DONE! I hope you all enjoyed it :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Gosh, this took longer than i expected...I'm sorry everybody! IRL stuff has been hitting me like Truck-kun and there wasn't that much of a good time to properly sit down and write. I swear I'm not dying just yet!

Also, to whoever who shall be merciful to my very ghostful soul—please send in some Freminet requests—I must write for my boy. 🐧

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#lyney and lynette #lyney #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader #lynette #yandere sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau cult au #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau lyney #sagau lynette #sagau genshin #genshin cult au #sagau childe #sagau furina #lynette genshin #lynette x reader #childe tartagalia #childe #tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #furina #focalors

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

#nova scribbles <3 #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fic #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq imagines #haikyuu #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou

[obsolescent]

I definitely imagine ghost like this when he comes back from a few months away and he’s just absolutely pissed that reader hasn’t being taking care of herself to take good care of the little ones😭https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJsu6BM3/

Woven Together

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x AFAB!GN!Reader

Author’s notes: Ough I am a sucker for domestic Simon. Honestly, after all he’s been through I feel like he would be a wonderful father and would want to be one, too. To set an example and show that he can and will be different from what his father was. Oops I’m getting carried away, I just love letting characters heal lol. Thank you for your request! Also…Gender neutral names for a parent are kinda hard to find, lol.

Content Warnings: Marriage, mentions of pregnancy, reader has given birth, reader has been neglecting themselves a bit, just in a forgetful way. Reader is called Mapa, a mixture of mama and papa.

CRASH

The sound echoes throughout the house. Your feet are moving before your brain realizes. You clutch the sling that your infant is nestled into close to your chest, trying to keep them asleep while rushing to your other child. You begin to hear them starting to cry and quicken your pace.

You round the corner into the living room, spotting your child. Your oldest, your son, is in the stage known as the “Terrible Twos,” which is an understatement. He’s so curious, getting into any and everything and it’s hard to keep up with him now that you’ve had your other child, your daughter. She’s just turned four months old, still quite small and sleeping throughout most of the day with feedings every couple hours. You have her in a sling secured around your chest while you made lunch for your son, before the sudden loud noise occurred. 

You see now what’s caused the loud racket and his sobbing. The lamp that was on the end table is now broken on the floor, likely due to him running and bumping into it. “Uh oh!” You exclaim, coming towards him with outstretched hands. He runs into your embrace, while hiccupping an “Uh oh” back to you. It’s something you’ve been able to teach him to say when something like this occurs, whenever he makes a mistake or gets hurt, you’ve realized it helps him calm down and to let him know that accidents happen and he isn’t in trouble.

While cooing in his ear and rubbing his back, you hear keys slide into the lock at the front door. Your head snaps to the sound and you watch your husband, Simon, walk inside. He had been able to be at home for the birth of your daughter through paternity leave, but had to leave again after those six weeks ended. He had been gone for a month now and you were so glad to have him home again. Your son also looks toward the sound, now excited at seeing his father home. “Dada!” He yells, rushing towards him. 

He sets his duffle bag aside and crouches down with his arms wide. “Hello, my boy!” He says, scooping him up and hugging him. You beam at the display, before making your way to them both. “Hello to you, too, my loves, " He says, bending down and giving you a quick kiss to the lips, before crouching further to plant one on his daughter’s head. He holds your cheek in his hand, studying your face. He must notice the bags under your eyes, unruliness of your hair, the rumpled clothing. You wince. “Darling…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at you. 

 “It’s been a rough month without you, honey,” You answer honestly. No use in hiding it, you reckoned, for it was bare to his eyes. “Sit.” Simon instructs you, putting an arm around you, directing you towards the couch. You take a seat, while he sets your son down. “Hold Esther while I put the sling on,” He says, waiting for you to hand it to him. You look up at him, confused. “You need rest, love. Let me watch the children while you relax.” “But you just got back from a mission–” He stops you by cupping your face in his hands. “No arguing. Now, the sling, please.” You grumbled under your breath while slipping your daughter out from the cloth.

After unwrapping yourself from the sling, you hand it to Simon, who begins to place it around himself. Once finished, he scoops up Esther and places her against his chest, safely securing her inside its hold. She begins to fuss, but soon settles after Simon begins rubbing her back and cooing to her. You can’t help but smile at the display, your heart full of love and warmth for your little family. 

Simon grabs your son’s hand. “Timothy, we’re going to let Mapa take a break, alright? Let’s go have ourselves a snack, yeah?” Your son eagerly nods his head, tugging him towards the kitchen. Simon looks back at you with a smile, “Enjoy your break, darling.” “Thank you, Simon. I love you.” “Love you more.” You stand up from the couch and head towards yours and Simon’s room. Slipping into your pajamas, you crawl into bed, sleep gently taking you. 

Waking with a start after feeling the bed shift, you feel arms wrap around you. “Simon?” You asked groggily, looking over your shoulder. “It’s me, love. How was your nap?” “It was wonderful, thank you, honey.” You sit up and wipe the sleep from your eyes, blinking a few times as your eyes adjust to the dark, slivers of moonlight poking through the curtains. “How long did I sleep for?” You asked, remembering it was around one o’clock in the afternoon when Simon arrived home. “It’s nine now,” He replies, running his fingers through your hair. Nine?! 

“Oh my Lord, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep that long, I must’ve been worn slap out.” You feel guilt gnawing at you for leaving Simon alone with the children for so long, before he says, “It’s fine, didn’t want to disturb your rest, you needed it.” He kisses the back of your hand. “The children are asleep, just me and you now.” Oh. You return to his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. 

“What would I do without you, Simon? Thank you for today,” You say, now running your hands through his short blond locks. He hums with a grin, “Bare minimum I could do, was glad to have the time with the little ones anyways.” He was never one to accept praise. “Now, I want to spend my time with my spouse. Are you hungry?” The mention of food causes your stomach to growl, loudly. You both laugh, before Simon pulls you from bed. “Let’s order some takeout and watch a movie, yeah?” You grin and nod, excited at the prospect of an at-home date with your husband. 

After ordering food, you settle down to wait for the delivery, nestled against each other on the couch. You lay down while Simon’s situated against you, his head on your chest while holding you close. You don’t take for granted the time you have with Simon. Always glad to be in his company. It’s times like these you cherish the most, able to make the most of the time allotted to you two. “I love you,” You whisper to him, brushing your fingers against his cheek. He turns his head up to stare into your eyes, his honeyed gaze filled with adoration. “Love you most.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #the title is from a bible verse about parenting lol lmao

[hyuk4sbf]

what do u think txt are like after they cum

hmmmmmm

yeonjun would probably need a moment to recover, a few minutes in ur arms giggling and kissing u and thanking u like the absolute goober he is !! with his stamina though i can't imagine he'd clock out fast, but he wants to stay as close to u as can be while he comes down from the rush :p

soobin, after a particularly intense orgasm, would straight up cry i reckon lol T_T but he reassures u immediately hes ok!!!! he just loves u so much !!!!!!!!! he'd probably insist on a bath together, he doesnt think he can stand a minute away from u (laughing imagining him being that clingy that he has to sit w u while u pee after sex tbh lol)

beomgyu goes limp in ur arms, satiated and so content n ur so warm it makes him so happy <3 wordlessly brings ur hands to his hair so u can run ur fingers through it, and hums happily—sleepily— when u press over gently every mark u've left on his neck, collarbones n shoulders <3 (>᎑<๑)/♡

taehyun who loves laying face to face with u after, thumbing over the curve of ur cheek and whispering and giggling silly things to u while u both recover </3 cleans u up with the gentlest touches like he hadn't just ravaged u himself, to which he probably apologises bashfully and whines when u simply laugh at him for the switch up

hyuka i can see being sooooo cuddly :(((( big spoon as he practically cradles u in his embrace, catching his breath before he whispers praises and other sweet nothings against the nape of ur neck <3 probs wants to stay inside ur so warm n hes so sleepy now ... ^_^"

#txt smut #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #hueningkai smut #taehyun smut #soobin smut #beomgyu thoughts #taehyun thoughts #hueningkai thoughts #soobin thoughts #yeonjun thoughts #txt thoughts

[acescorazon]

Crocodile x Mihawk x Buggy fic idea for you: Mihawk and Crocodile are stunned when they each discover both Yoru and Crocodile's gold hook missing. The both of them immediately suspect that Buggy did something. Pissed six ways to Hell they go looking for their "fearless leader". They find him in one of the workshops and all anger is replaced with astonishment when they find Buggy polishing Yoru to a radiant shine, while Crocodile's hook hand is already gleaming like it's been kissed by the sun itself. When they get closer, Mihawk is quietly stunned to see that Buggy has gone so far as to rewrap the hilt of the strongest blade in brand new gleaming white leather. Buggy does his best to be non-chalant as he explains that he simply wants his " Lieutenants" looking their best as he hands Crocodile his hook and assures Mihawk he's almost done polishing Yoru. The gesture actually shifts Mihawk and Crocodile's attitude towards Buggy after that. Before he knows it, Buggy is the one getting stunned when he winds up with the world's strongest swordsman and the former but still formidable leader of Baroque Works declaring that they are both in love with him and mean belong to him just as much as he does to them. Cue the absolute chaos that somehow becomes a genuinely loving throuple and a true for to be reckoned with in the pirate world.

IK WE'VE ALREADY TALKED BUT HI AGAIN POOKIE LOL. Anyways this is going to be another one of the requests i turn into a little series, if you didn't see the post where i went into more details click here. (That's if you want to, you don't have to LOL.) ALSO PT2 this is going to be the series i was talking about where i'm going to try and experiment with alternating POVS as mentioned here.

Anyways i hope everything goes well, and i'm going to debut the first three chapters before we get into anything serious, (but again, as mentioned before, i want everyone's feed back please so i know this is something yall might want again in the future. ((OR MIGHT NOT LOL) ) ) I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS THO POOKIE AND ILY MUAHHHHH.

AWYWHOREEEEEE LETS GET IT.

Title: Buggy's guide to bagging boyfriends

Ch: 1/?

Rating: PG-ish for now ig (But let's talk later about it.)

Word count: 2835

Chapter except:

The room fills with tension as the two other members of Cross Guild glare at him, and Crocodile is the first to speak up, “Where’s my damn hook?!” He asks, and even though it's first thing in the morning, his voice is still, loud, deep, and intimidating, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in a good mood… but, then again, Buggy doesn’t think he ever is. Mihawk follows suit, asking his own question afterwards in a significantly quieter, yet equally as intimidating voice, “...And why do you have my sword?”

Well, so much for the surprise...

It’s not like Buggy’s a workaholic or anything like that, he’s far from it actually. It’s just that even after he’s done doing his duties for the day, he often finds it hard to shut his brain off at night. He often tosses and turns in his bed, thinking about what he has to do in the morning or for the week, and sometimes finds himself wanting to get a head start on things. Tonight, he finds himself in another one of those situations, unable to sleep no matter how hard he tries because he keeps on thinking about Cross Guild and all that he has to do.

He has to have new weapons and medical supplies ordered, and he also has new men to welcome into the crew, each of whom he has to find a job for because Mihawk and Crocodile, while skilled in many things, aren’t big fans of doing the more simple tasks; like assigning their men jobs or giving them pep talks, or sending their families money after they’ve made an enemy out of themselves for attacking the marines. Damn, he has more bounties that need to be made too, and he has old ones that need to be taken off the market.

There’s so much to do, and part of him wants to go to sleep, but another part of him also wants to get back up and get right back to work again. It’s weird. 

Two, three, and then four o'clock, quickly passes him by as he continues to think about all that he has to do. He feels full of energy right now despite the fact that prior to lying down, he felt exhausted. He kept yawning and could barely keep his eyes open, but now, as he lies in his bed, it seems like he can’t fall asleep no matter how hard he tries. It seems like his previous exhaustion was just a sick prank his brain played on him. Thanks, brain. He continues to think about Cross Guild, he wasn’t exactly serious about it before. He was more or less just in it because he needed to repay his debt to Crocodile, but now… Well, he can’t say it’s the worst thing in the world. 

It has its cons of course: Mihawk and Crocodile are always bullying him, plus they make him run around like a chicken with its head cut off, doing what could only be considered more of a manager role than the big boss role, but Buggy kind of enjoys it actually. It makes the days go by a little quicker because he has so many things to do and men to look after these days, and he thinks his responsibilities are only going to grow in the future. 

His thoughts shift slightly, and he goes from thinking about all the things he needs to do to thinking about his ‘subordinates’ and his relationship with them. Buggy’s always had a rather rocky relationship with Mihawk and Crocodile but…It’s not like he would be opposed to being their friend or anything like that, the two just never seemed interested in anything other than a work relationship (or beating him up.) But maybe if Buggy actually put in an effort to be their friend, they could fix things and this Cross Guild thing could really kick ass! Perhaps if he did something nice for them, they’d stop hating him and see that Buggy’s not that bad of a guy after all. 

Should he do that? 

He finds himself wondering if he should just give this whole Cross Guild thing his all, you know, make the best out of a bad situation because he’s not going anywhere any time soon… Maybe there are ways to make his, Mihawk, and Crocodile’s relationship better, like, maybe he could get them all matching red cloaks, that’d make them look like a flashy team, right?? Okay, they’d probably kill him on the spot if he did something like that. Oh, uh, maybe he could gift them some sake! Wait…They’re kind of snobby and only drink aged wine or some crap. Uh, uh… what could he do for them? 

A sudden idea pops up in Buggy’s mind and he glances over at the clock by his bedside again, wondering how in just a few short seconds it went from four in the morning to almost six. Gah, time doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t matter right now.

What are the most important things to Crocodile and Mihawk? Why, it’s their hook and sword of course! Well, actually, he’s pretty sure the most important thing to Crocodile is money and power, but that doesn’t matter! What if he shined their things for them!! That would be nice, wouldn’t it? And then they would definitely stop hating him and being mean to him, right? They’d have to! They’ll want to be his best friend if he does something that nice!! Buggy will give Crocodile’s hook and Mihawk’s sword a nice shine, and then they’ll be all like, ‘Oh, my god, Buggy. You’re so amazing, you’re so wonderful, you’re so sexy and smart, we love you!!!!’ Okay, wait, they probably won’t do the last thing, but Buggy can hear their praises now.

God, he’s so smart. 

Buggy hops out of bed, quickly gets himself dressed, and then makes his way out of his tent. The island feels so calm and peaceful right now as his men continue to sleep in the early morning hours. Everything is deserted and quiet, and Buggy enjoys the scenery, finding Emptee Bluffs island the most beautiful during early summer mornings such as this. Buggy just so happens to notice that the sun is just barely beginning to peek over the horizon as he heads to Crocodile’s tent first, and he takes a moment to admire its beauty before continuing on with his tasks. He's so excited for this! He’s going to have two, not one, but two, super cool best friends!   

As Crocodile’s tent comes into view, Buggy’s heart starts pounding in his chest because, despite knowing he has nothing but good intentions, he knows that if Crocodile were to discover what he plans on doing, then he’d wring his neck for sure. So, he quietly sneaks into Crocodile’s tent, and in his room, he can just barely make out the soft sounds of snoring coming from over at his bed. Perfect, Buggy thinks, hoping that there might be a chance that Crocodile doesn’t sleep with his hook on, and as he crouches down and makes his way slowly across the dimly lit room, he notices the object of his desire lying right on top of Crocodile’s nightstand. 

Perfect. He’s going to be so surprised! Buggy’s going to just take this for a little while, but he’s going to make sure he returns Crocodile’s hook, and of course, Mihawk’s sword, before either of them realizes that their belongings have even gone missing! 

Buggy quickly snatches up Crocodile’s hook, clutching it close to his chest, and then goes after his next target: Yoru. He thinks things might be a little more difficult considering that Mihawk may very well be awake at this time since he seems like an early riser, and Buggy has often seen him taking morning walks around the island or getting a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. It’ll be alright though, maybe he’ll be asleep or out of his tent. Buggy wastes little time making his way over to Mihawk’s tent, peeking his head in first to see if he’s awake or even inside, and when he realizes that his tent is empty, but Yoru is resting against the side of his bed, he grins, grabbing Mihawk’s beloved sword and quickly making a run for it.  

Buggy can try to hide Crocodile’s hook but, obviously, it’ll be a little hard given its size, but there’s no way that he could possibly hide Mihawk’s sword, so he makes a quick run for it towards one of the island’s workshops, grunting on the way there from the sheer weight of both items. He looks around the shop once he’s inside, searching for some polishing cream and a rag, and struggling for a moment because he doesn’t usually come to this place. Usually, he just stops by for a few minutes to check up on his men, so he doesn’t know where anything is. Everything is so familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, but he eventually finds what he needs and begins working on his surprise, having a seat on a stool and polishing Crocodile’s hook first.

He grunts again as he holds the heavy metal in his hands, wondering how Crocodile can even use this as a prosthetic with how heavy it is. He thinks it has to be at least a good thirty pounds alone, but that’s none of Buggy’s concern, he just took it so that he would be able to give it the shine it needs. Not only does giving this bad boy a good shine seem nice, but wouldn’t it be cooler if Crocodile engaged in battle with the Marines or even one of the mighty four emperors (not Buggy though.) and he had the coolest, most shiniest, most bad ass hook the world’s ever seen?!

Hell yeah, it would be! Crocodile is going to look so freaking cool thanks to Buggy!!! 

He polishes the hook once, but it honestly doesn’t look shiny enough the first time around, so Buggy decides to polish it again, and then actually a third time because he wants that bad boy to shine like a diamond…even though it’s gold. It doesn’t matter, he just wants it to look pretty. He wants it so shiny that light will bounce off it and blind people, that’s how shiny he wants Crocodile’s gold hook to be, and as he finishes polishing it, he smiles to himself, now a little sweaty because of the poor ventilation in the workshop. 

Buggy moves on to Yoru next and as he holds the sword up, he once again takes the time to mentally complain about the pure weight of the object alone, wondering how Mihawk carries the damn thing on his back all the time without having any problems. He must have a spine made out of steel.

(Buggy wishes he could say the same.)

Buggy stares at the sword, admiring its beauty for a moment before lying it down on the workbench in front of him, he notices as he begins to polish the blade that the bandages around the hilt are a little ragged and dirty now, most likely from how much its owner uses it, and Buggy gets another idea in his head at that moment, wondering if there’s anything that he can rewrap the hilt of the sword with. He figures that he’ll worry about that a bit later though as he begins to polish Yoru, and just like with Crocodile’s hook, Buggy can’t help but think that the sword would look so much cooler and prettier if it was shinier. Like, yeah, it’s already stunning, but it just needs that extra layer of flashiness to really make it stand out, and so he takes his time polishing the blade, shining it until it’s bright and pretty, and so dazzling it makes Buggy’s eyes hurt, and once he’s done he looks for something to rewrap the hilt with. 

It takes him a little while, but he does eventually find some white leather that he thinks could probably be used to wrap the hilt with, and he begins to unwrap the bandages from around the sword, which, by the way, takes a whole lot longer than Buggy thought it would.  He eventually manages to get the bandages wrapped around the hilt off though, and then proceeds to wrap, and unwrap, and then wrap the sword again. He does this several times because this too, isn’t as easy as he thought it would be, but he slowly starts to figure out how to make the leather around the hilt look juuuust right...When all of a sudden, he hears loud, quick footsteps coming from the outside of the tent, but he figures it's just his men ready to start their day. 

How long have I been here? Buggy wonders as he continues to wrap Yoru’s hilt. He doesn’t have a watch on him, but he doesn’t feel like he’s spent that much time in the workshop, maybe because he’s genuinely enjoying himself and likes the idea of possibly making Mihawk and Crocodile happy? 

“Hey, Clown, you in there?!” 

Buggy pauses in an instant. Crocodile…? He wonders, taking a moment to figure out who the gravelly voice that just called out to him belongs to. Oh no! The surprise, it’s going to be ruined if he doesn– 

Too late. 

Mihawk and Crocodile come barging into the tent, both red in the face and looking like they want to snap Buggy’s neck but to be fair, they always look like that. Buggy pauses for a moment and stares up at his two chief officers, unsure of how to explain himself now that he’s been caught. Damn it, he really thought that he could get everything done before they realized their stuff was missing!! Seriously, how long has he been in the workshop?!

The room fills with tension as the two other members of Cross Guild glare at him, and Crocodile is the first to speak up, “Where’s my damn hook?!” He asks, and even though it's first thing in the morning, his voice is still, loud, deep, and intimidating, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in a good mood… but, then again, Buggy doesn’t think he ever is. Mihawk follows suit, asking his own question afterwards in a significantly quieter, yet equally as intimidating voice, “...And why do you have my sword?”

Well, so much for the surprise... 

Buggy places Yoru down for a moment as the other two former warlords approach him, and he notices how their expressions go from unbridled rage to pure confusion in a moment’s notice as soon as they get a little closer to him. He stands up and picks up Crocodile’s hook first and hands it to him, “I know I shouldn’t have taken your stuff,” He admits, and both Mihawk and Crocodile’s confusion only seems to grow, “But I just suddenly thought to myself: ‘Wow, i want to do something nice for them so that maybe we could be friends…and that you guys would look so cool if your weapons were all clean and shiny…” He chuckles lightly for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain how he got ahead of himself, but everything was all out of the goodness of his heart.

 

 “Seriously, guys, i was hoping that i could get everything polished before you even noticed your things were gone, but obviously that didn’t happen…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his head, “But, yeah, i wasn’t trying to make you guys mad or anything, just wanted you to look cool and to be friends!”

There’s absolute silence after Buggy’s explanation. Crocodile looks down at his hook, twisting and turning it in his hand as he examines it, and then suddenly he mutters a quiet, “Whatever, just don’t steal it again.” before he makes his leave, and honestly… Considering this is Crocodile we’re talking about, Buggy feels like things went a lot better than they could have… but still, he’s a little disappointed at that reaction. Was Crocodile’s hook not shiny enough? Or is he just really upset that Buggy stole his hand in the first place? Ah, shucks… Maybe he messed up. Maybe he should have done something else for him instead…Is his relationship with Crocodile going to be even more strained because of this? 

Aw, man. He hopes not! 

Buggy turns to Mihawk next, who is still staring at him speechlessly with wide eyes. He gives him a small, little smile, hoping that he hasn’t screwed things up with Mihawk too, “Uh, no offense, but the bandages around your sword were a little worn out, so uh, i thought i’d rewrap your sword too. I’m almost done, just give me a second,” Buggy tells him and then sits back down on the stool he was using, quickly finishing his job and wrapping Yoru’s hilt tightly, and afterwards he stands back up and gives Mihawk a proper grin, hoping that he might be a little more appreciative of his gift. “There! All done,” He says, handing the sword back to its owner. 

Mihawk continues to just stare at him even after he gets his sword back, and honestly, Buggy didn’t do any of this for a thank you or praise, even though that would be nice, he did this because he genuinely wanted to change things between him, Hawkeye, and Crocodile…So, he’s a little shocked when Mihawk simply sighs before quickly leaving the workshop too, not even saying another word to Buggy.

…So, are they not going to be super cool best friends?

((A/N: Hopefully this isn't ASS.))

#one piece #cross guild #REMEMBER THIS IS A FUN LIL TEST #A TRIAL AND ERROR IF U WILL :) #yall are free to give me the feedback you want lol #my writing #asks

[firegirl888101]

in honor of spooky month, I think the harbingers going trick-or-treating(or watching a horror movie) would be entertaining

(I'm the same anon who asked about the "reader who's good at drawing thing" :D)

You have specifically asked, and I have answered dear friend!

The Harbingers and Y/N are still in modern world and NOT Teyvat. Just thought I'd put that out there.

Also, I added something my family and I used to do when I was really young! (Obviously this was way before lockdown so there was no shortage of toilet paper lol) Not sure if its the regular thing but I hardly see the tradition on the media anywhere...

This was posted before the Insatiable Madness (9) was published! (meaning there could be some things mentioned to keep in mind for the future of the series... 👀)

Decided to post this 2 hours early because I was bored and didn't want to wait for the 12 o'clock mark lol.

-

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Halloween 2023)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Where am I..? This doesn't feel like the main storyline.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

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

"You mean to tell me it's normal to wrap yourself in waste as a tradition?" Signora threw the toilet paper at you, her face telling you all you need to see.

"Pleeeeease? I promise it's clean!" You begged her, picking up the toilet paper she threw at you and offering it to back her.

"Absolutely not. Why would someone, besides Childe, have fun by wrapping themselves up in that nonesense?"

"I agree with Signora." Pantalone gently coughed into his hand. "Why would one choose to have filth around them for amusement?"

"You lot are sour little bitches."

"How DARE you--"

"Either way, it can't be too bad. Especially since this tradition has been around for atleast a century." You smiled at Childe rolling around in the toilet paper.

"I think it looks fun!" Columbina pitched in, her head wrapped in toilet paper delicately.

"Of course you would, you brown-noser. Anything you see Y/N do is an instant hobby to your personality." Scaramouche glared at her, sitting on the sofa behind her.

"Well, not like you had a personality to begin with."

All the Damselette did in response was giggle, and continued to look your way. "It's my turn now!"

"Your turn to do... what?"

"To wrap you of course! Didn't you say the whole point was who could wrap each other the fastest?" She made a 'grabby hands' motion.

Oh dear, this doesn't look good.

"Yeah, Y/n..." Scaramouche teased, tossing the toilet paper in his hand up and down. "Let's wrap you up."

"You changed your mind very quickly. Are you sure you weren't feeling sad that you were missing out?"

"Of course not." He scoffed. "Hey, Damsel. I'm going for their mouth first, you do their legs."

"Perfect, that way they can't run away!~" She giggled once more.

Haha... I'm in danger-

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

You don't know how long you've been tied up with toilet paper. You reckon it's been a good hour of Columbina singing as she worked on your 'Wedding Gown'.

Scaramouche also had fun wrapping your entire head very tightly. Thankfully, Pierro cut your eyes and nose loose when you complained you couldn't breathe.

"Y/N!! You look so pretty!" Columbina clapped in delight, a wide smile on her face.

Scaramouche just stayed silent, clutching a hand to his mouth trying not to laugh.

"Thanks everyone, I definitely see you trying to help me." Is what you would have said if it weren't for the tight toilet paper wrapped around your mouth, practically gagging you.

"Now, now," Pulcinella interjected the laughing, holding your back when realising you were about to fall over.

"Let's not tease them too much, they planned our night out did they not?"

"Oh, right, they did!" Childe piped up, looking behind him and cringing at the strips of toilet paper he shredded.

I am not cleaning that up for him.

"You rarely ever let us out of the house, I'm excited to see the neighbourhood you live in!"

"One, there's a very good reason for why I don't let anyone out the house. Two, how on Earth could you be excited about my neighbourhood?" You finally managed to rip through the tissue around your mouth.

"Who said you could unsilence yourself? I enjoyed the brief moment of peace we had without your squealing." Sandrone scoffed.

"I did, plus, I was starting to choke on it and my throat feels very dry now... No, Dottore, I don't need any of your pois-- I mean medicine."

"What an insult." He shook his head in disappointment.

"Should we all get ready to begin going out? Before we know it, it'll be 9 o'clock and people will begin to walk around." You suggested, watching Dottore roll his eyes.

"I agree, however, you never mentioned why we'll be going out tonight." Arlecchino said.

"Well, on Halloween there's this tradition we have---"

"Another one?" Signora sighed, her boredom being evident from her tone.

"...You do realise festivals don't just have one tradition right?" You sighed back at her.

"As I was saying, on Halloween we dress up as things we find 'spooky', and 'scary'. Some even cosplay as their favourite fictional characters! Then, at night, you walk around with neighbourhood with bowls knocking on doors for sweets! It's pretty delicious I'm not gonna lie."

"Can't we just dress up as ourselves? I often hear my soldiers gossiping about us Harbingers when they think I'm not listening. Are we scary?" Capitano suggested with a heavy voice.

"I mean... sure, you do come off that way when you walk around killing people just because you can't find one person."

"Haha, very funny." Sandrone looked at you, tapping her finger on the arm of the sofa opposite to you.

"I hate sugar." Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your explanation.

"Oh yeah! I forgot you don't like anything sweet!"

"Anyway, I would prefer it if you didn't dress as yourselves, you'll look very out of place." You sighed.

"Yeah, no. I'm not dressing up at all."

"Well, I'll be going as an angel! I saw on your... phone? (I think that's what you called it) A lot of people were dressing up as one and I wanted to see if it suited me!" Columbina showed a white dress in front of your eyes.

"Where did you get that? I didn't give you permission to go into my room - especially my wardrobe. I haven't even worn it yet!"

"I thought it looked really pretty!"

"That is not a solid argument!" You argued back.

"Now, now, you two..." Pulcinella put his hands on your shoulder and hers.

"Let us not show animosity towards eachother."

"Oh, so she can steal my shit but can't atleast apologise for keeping it in her possessions without telling me?"

"You didn't even notice it was gone. I don't understand the source of your anger~" She giggled at you.

"You're lucky you're a harbinger keeping me here against my will."

"Are you two finished now?" Pierro grumbled. "We have a long evening ahead of us."

"'We'? I thought you insisted you didn't want to come?"

"That is true, however, I cannot help but worry about the Damselette and the likes of you going off together causing trouble only the Tsaritsa will remember."

"Dude, she's not even here--"

"Let's change topic." Arlecchino sighed to herself, watching Columbina run off with your dress somewhere.

"She asked me to also dress as an angel with her, the one with black wings instead."

"Oh, you mean a fallen angel?" You sighed, a headache beginning to form inside your mind.

"Let me guess, you want to borrow one of my dresses too?"

"No, that wouldn't be courteous. Besides, it would be very tight on me if I were to wear one."

"Thanks for insinuating I'm small."

"That is not what I meant."

"Heyy, Decider? What should I wear?" Childe enthusiastically threw himself on the sofa next to you.

You shrugged as a reply.

"If you don't assign me a character, I'll steal the Captain's clothes and dress up as him."

"Please don't." Capitano walked off.

"Just be a corpse. You'll be one in less than a hundred years anyway." Scaramouche suggested, smirking at his own joke.

"I actually like that idea a lot." You smiled with him. "Rather than a corpse, just be a zombie."

"Ehhhh? You mean like that girl at Bubu Pharmacy!? Y/N you're so mean!"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"You... You lot are so boring."

"Fuck off, I am not in the mood." Scaramouche folded his arms with a scornful face.

One by one the harbingers all met outside your front door. The idea was they were supposed to come out when they'd dressed up and finished getting ready.

Unfortunately, they all didn't dress up and went in their Harbinger coats.

"Alright, I understand some of you not wanting to dress up. But what happened to those of you saying you would?" You asked, feeling slightly betrayed.

"Believe me, I was going to!" Childe looked at you guiltily.

"No you didn't you big liar, you took one look at the costumes available and left the room." Arlecchino scolded him.

"I'm sorry okay!? Won't you forgive me?" He blinked very fast, mocking a begging expression.

"I'll be honest," You struggled to contain your laughter. "I really wasn't expecting anyone to dress up."

"Ehhh? But what about you putting options for us to dress as?"

You simply shrugged with a wonky smirk.

"Well, I'm glad we have all what happened earlier behind us, as well as getting out of the house in one piece." Pierro coughed into his hand, eyeing Columbina.

"So... You're not mad at me for stea-- borrowing your dress?" She asked you hopefully.

"No, I'm still pissed off."

"Aww..."

"Can we just leave, please?" Dottore groaned into his hand. "I'd like to finish the episode of the show I was watching."

"And I would like to distract myself from all of you impudent bastards - but oh look, I'm forced against my will." Sandrone gave a frown to you.

"Haha, very funny." You mocked her words from earlier, the mechanic's frown turning into an angry look.

"Oh... my... gosh. LOOK AT THOSE COSPLAYERS!!" Loud voices exclaimed from over your garden fence.

"Destiny, you're right! They look so... real!"

Oh no...

"Are they referring to us?" Arlecchino whispered to Pierro, the two harbingers sighing when seeing Childe walk up to the two girls.

"Of course they are," Signora answered the man for him. "They're pointing and talking whilst staring at us."

"How unmannered."

"Alright, alright, alright!" You called out to everyone around you after hearing the conversation behind you.

"We need to head up the street north, as that's where I usually trick or treat. Plus, the neighbours are nice there which is a nice bonus."

"If you could move away from the gate?" Your attention turned to the girls, a stern expression on your face.

"Oh, yeah, sorry... We just got a bit excited." One of the girls holding their phones apologised.

They walked away and you soon turned to face the clueless harbingers stood behind you.

"This is why I wanted you to dress up! You'll be noticed so much easier when you're dressed like how you were in the trailer!"

"Trailer?" Pantalone questioned you.

"Nevermind. I forgot everyone around me in this house is clueless."

"Clueless? Clueless about what?"

"As I said before, it doesn't matter. Let's go get some sweets!" You cheered, ignoring Pantalone nudging you for an answer.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Oh... Life is sweet, life is good!" You praised the harbingers after asking them to empty the bowls you gave them.

Somehow, although you knew there were a lot of you, you'd rounded up with a mountain of chocolate bars and colourful sweet packets. And calling it a mountain wasn't an exaggeration, it practically covered your coffee table.

"And this, my friends, is the triumph of our labour."

"I'll be honest though, it'll last me less than a week knowing me." You began picking out your favourite chocolates.

"That is not healthy, how are your teeth not rotting?" Dottore muttered, turning to your face and inspecting you.

"I'm blessed."

"You are definitely not." He mused, opening your mouth and looking inside at your teeth.

"Hwwey!" You tried to voice a complain.

"Ugh, just let them destroy their mouth. They'll learn that their pleasure will be their downfall." Scaramouche scoffed, pushing the doctor off of you.

Pantalone then laughed at the two in front of him. "I can always pay for them to get new teeth."

"Why would you need to pay when you have a qualified doctor in the house?"

"Qualified doctor?" Sandrone chuckled to herself. "More like insane experimental scientist."

"You little--"

"That's where you're wrong, they're simply heartless businessmen as I have always stated in the past." Arlecchino shook her head.

You glared at the Harbingers bickering as if you weren't next to them, and continued to pick and sort out the sweets covering your table.

I can never get a days peace. You shook your head, collecting and sharing the packets with Childe and Columbina on your left and right.

[tabithatwo]

Can I ask why you don’t like this new season of yj? No hate or anything, I’m just genuinely curious

I’m so tired and probably won’t be very coherent but that’s okay there’s like six more of these in my asks if I want a second more thorough answer tomorrow lol but a lot of how I feel is in posts on my blog and I’ll just talk mostly 2x08 here. I’ve been hanging on tight until this episode but it has BROKEN me. Like I’m in mourning lol. To anyone who likes it I’m so happy for you I’m not coming for you at all.

But to me the main issue I’ve had is how they have constantly had opportunities to go DARK and SHOW the devolution but they played it very fucking safe (the makeup being the catalyst, Shauna’s birth being truly the safest option possible, like an episode of call the midwife except a fucked up dream happens, etc) and there was no actual build to the level of violence and depravity (or even RELIGION BUILDING) that the card draw sacrifice calls for. The ate Jackie because she was already dead and the wilderness slow cooked her, they were all mourning the baby last episode, they showed us Misty feeling potentially genuine remorse and guilt for Crystal? The “cult stuff” up until now has been mostly fucking dbt techniques and self harm. Yes the shauna lottie last episode was intense but we got absolutely zero follow up on it in any real characterization way for shauna this episode.

Then they kicked us out of the room when the decision was being made and I PROMISE people who think that was a shit move are largely not thinking they needed to explain the card game. It’s about showing your characters in pivotal huge moments. Yellowjackets is advertised and set up in s1 as a psychological horror. I want to see the characters GRAPPLE with things in a psychological horror. Seeing how they got from point a to point b isn’t about understanding the rules of their game, it’s about seeing developed characters reactions to crazy fucking shit.

Instead we get a jump straight into everyone drawing a card and the group deciding to kill one of their two hunters. Would some be on board with no questions asked? sure, but to ask the audience to believe that it just Makes Sense that they landed here after being very fucking relatively TAME all season until that one fight (I was so scared after that scene and no one reacting that this is the jump they were making, based on one moment alone and I was so sad to see it happen lol) is a big ask.

Now add on top of that the way they’re cutting us out of the actual character driven moments. That wasn’t psychological horror, that wasn’t delving into characters psyches like we’ve been promised. It was a thriller moment, change on a dime, maybe for shock value I guess. To me that interim would’ve been a very hard scene to write, a glimpse even of them deciding and reckoning with this belief and darkness in themselves. It’s a large group with a lot to juggle and big messy dynamics. And the easy way out of that is to just not show it at all.

People keep saying “they don’t have time to develop things this season because of side plots.” But they CHOSE to have those side plots in the first place. They’re filling shit in because they don’t WANT to get into the nitty gritty. We watched musical theater and cops and whatever the hell else and whatever. Fine. Sure. But it isn’t that those plots magically overtook some extra brilliant deep moments that they planned on showing with these characters to actually WITNESS their devolution, like s1 set us up to expect. They added them to fill empty space.

I GET that they become brutal. I GET that they devolve. I UNDERSTAND that from moment fucking one. The draw of the show to me is not watching them chase someone. We got that in the first scene. It’s seeing HOW they get there. What has to happen to get them to that place AND how does it impact each main character. Don’t just list the bad things for me. Show me their reasoning and their religion building and their arguing and their giving in. That’s what the real story is to me. Because we just saw them do their first ritual kill, but we didn’t see much more DEPTH to it, with these characters that we’ve now spent 18 episode getting to know, than the pilot already showed us.

1 am ramblings please forgive confusing turns of phrase or typos lol

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #yellowjackets 2x08

[pinene]

Idk maybe I've just interacted with true weirdos but I swear to god there's an unfortunately significant percentage of gayboys who regularly crank it to the most hairy bearded juiced up bear porn and lust after str8 men but have like "keep your 'masc' bullshit away from me thx" in their bios. I reckon that rightful criticisms/rejection of guys in the 20teens using "masc[4masc]" to mean "i am homophobic" got overcorrected into "gay men can't be genuinely masculine, it's either a costume or self-hatred"

Which is kind of a really effective way to get a str8 guy fetish if you're attracted to masculine men..? So that's unfortunate. And then subsequently it's become gauche to declare yourself as masc or butch. If you do so, these guys will absolutely look for and subsequently point out anything you do that's effeminate, which is in itself very homophobic and weird. presumably it's because they are assuming you operate on the toxic masc wavelength and so are trying to give you a taste of your own medicene, but if you aren't, they're just... being fucking rude

But then it gets very complicated by the fact that you have other gay guys saying shit like "Hey it's okay if you're just masc, you don't have to be fabulous to be gay" and that's just a crazy ass thing to say. I understand where they're coming from, but being picked on by insecure gay dudes is nowhere near being oppressed lol. There's also often the complaint about being stereotyped when you're just a "normal" dude, and I definitely resonate with it being impossible to be taken seriously when you're a gay guy-- but they make a grave error in assuming the pain comes from not fitting the stereotype. Rather, being stereotyped sucks whether you fit it or not, and honestly, probably sucks more when you DO!

It does seem like this era is ending though. I think we're all starting to finally realize that gender is silly, and fun, and sexy, not something you need to earn or be born with, and you can explore any and all axes of it as you please. I don't wear big boots cuz I think I'm better than fem queens. I wear them cuz they make me happy

#reblogs off bc i didn't proofread carefully and im sure there's something misinterpretable here

[cleromancy]

Something has been bugging me recently. Do you ever notice how people (particularly Jason stans) go on about how Tim victim blame's Jason for his own death, but fail to mention how Alfred and Bruce are guilty of doing the same thing in the past? Why do these two (especially Alfred) get a pass?

LMAO LIKE... EVERYONES DONE IT. BRUCE ALFRED DICK BABS *SELINA* OF ALL PEOPLE ONE TIME... actually id have to double check that one idr exactly what she said about jason it might have just been that hes unhinged (<- also a thing everyones said at some point) but like. everyones freakin done it. or at least *implied* it.

tim is a special case for a reason though--and ill come back to bruce and alfred later--and its not just bc fandom wants a scapegoat to pin All The Victim-Blaming on. on a meta level tim was specifically created to be jasons opposite, and to ~rehabilitate the robin role and make robin palatable again to modern readers. (and to be clear this wasnt bc readers didn't like jason specifically--it was the idea of robin at all, and to a lesser extent just replacing the orig. jason just took on the mantle at a really unfortunate period in comics culture.) so the comparisons to jason are baked in right off the bat. and tim has to be "better". tim had to prove that a robin was necessary so that dc could keep having one, he had to justify it so that the blame didnt fall on bruce for getting a child killed (or yk even just out there fighting crime at all). theres also an element of class dynamics thats. i mean. jason was a homeless street kid and tims this fancy little distinctly upper middle class kid who replaces him, without derailing to get too deep into that the optics already arent fucking great.

but tims creation aside, just as far as how often it comes up... tim also takes the role of robin really seriously, and its everything to him, so he spends a lot of time thinking about it, what it means to wear the uniform & fulfil the role. so hes the one whos most frequently in the position to be thinking about jason, after bruce. so tim winds up being the one pushing the bulk of the bad/angry/impulsive robin narrative retcon dc wanted to push bc... its the most directly relevant to him. bruce doesnt have much narrative need to think about jason "failing" or not being good enough until under the red hood... except to be like "i dont have to worry about tim bc hes not like jason." lmao. and then you have tim who does not want to get killed, like jason did, so he spends time thinking about how to not end up like jason. which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how being a victim of murder works but i think understandable thing for a child replacement of another dead child to latch onto (particularly one as prone to arrogance & god-complex-itude as Our Timmy, lol). and both on a meta level and in-universe this is about shifting the blame off of bruce and onto the victim because tim needs to keep filling the role hes filling without it being bruces fault that jason died in the first place, bc reckoning with batman and child endangerment is not smth the comics had ever really planned on doing in a serious way.

but as for why singling tim out over bruce and alfred-- the kind of ppl who do this already generally think bruce sucks past the point of being interested in ~holding him accountable~ for absolutely anything... like "bruce sucks, everyone knows he sucks, enough said." i think the logic is generally like "if tims not a total shithead like bruce, then why is he doing shithead stuff like bruce does :/" and then pinning it all on tim as opposed to considering like "hey uhhh do you think maybe hearing stories about jason from bruce influences how tim thinks of jason over the years." if that makes sense

as for alfred. people do not want alfred to have any interiority or to ever have been mean or wrong bc then theyd have to actually think about the fact that bruce has a 24/7 domestic servant in his employ, which is just the. tip of the iceberg when you start thinking about alfred as a full character and not a convenient cardboard cutout to prop up whoever the narrative needs him to. also alfreds role in almost every batman narrative is strictly as support, almost no agency within the story to have a meaningful impact, and people generally respond to the character in kind.

finally i think tim mmmmight be the only character at least as of the reboot who ever talked *to jason* outloud style about certain things relating to jasons death... this answer is already getting too long so i dont want to get into depth about titans tower. but tt 2003 #29 is a great example of the comics pitting tim and jason against each other to make Jason look worse by comparison--for all that tim doesn't actually *say* anything victim blaming jason for his death, *and* for all that jason totally kicks tims ass in the fight and its not even close, on a meta level the story is 100% presenting jason as the bad robin, the robin who failed, Unlike Tim Drake, A *Good* Robin. (i accidentally reread the issue ... im going to make a post about it later probably. god i wish this fucking issue had been good)

but yeah i could probably go on and on even further but yeah, i think thats where people are coming from when they single timmy out. tim only exists at all bc of jason n would be fundamentally unrecognizable without having been crafted to be the anti-jason. and on top of that he has repeatedly been used by dc to make jason look worse (or rather jason was used to make tim look better), and a lot of my fellow jason stans understandably resent tim for it. i however am built different, and want them to kiss.

#dc #jaytim #i hope this is coherent im sleep deprived atm. #like moreso than usual #rambles #meta #jaytim text #jason text

[yonemurishiroku]

Show Luke and Percys reaction to book Luke and Percy(let's call show version honey bunny and sunshine)

Sunshine reaction to Luke and Percy: crush and hero worship of Luke. With Percy he's acts like how he acts like with his mom. Other him kind of feels like what a dad would be like. They also gush over blue food and the ocean together. Percy teachers sunshine some water tricks.

Honey Bunny: Panic, pure panic. Especially when he realizes this Luke is not on his side and is trying to talk him out of going with Kronos. Luke has to literally tackle him to stop him from leaving in a panic. Percy though calms him down and slowly wins his trust.

Percy and Luke don't want them to know about their fates. But the minis accidentally over hear. So I guess kidnapping them and bringing them to their universe has moved up. Honey Bunny gets thrown over Percy shoulder and Sunshine is more easier to convince because loyalty. Honey Bunny keeps trying to escape and Sunshine is no help.

Skip over what entity whispered in your ears for you to pick Sunshine and Honey Bunny, of all things, as their aliases.

The mental image of Honeybun panicking upon realizing this Luke knows his plan and wants to stop him is absolutely exhilarating. The only variation I offer is that I think Luke would try to beat it out of him LOL. 😂😂😂 Our of everyone, Luke should be the first to recognize his stubbornness and also hold enough regret over his mistake to resort to drastic measures in this case. I reckon Luke would be quite adamant, and we've been taught in the books that Luke can be cruel to achieve his goal. As in, he can be strict when needed. He isn't afraid to be tough and stern, despite being an overall chilling guy.

And this is his other self on his way to repeating the same mistake? Hell no. I just see Luke steal Backbiter effortlessly and then pin the poor kid down, beating it into his skull that Trust me, it's not a good idea. You'd only get people hurt. Get him hurt.

All the while Percy's behind trying to talk him down. And Sunshine is freaking out, pale as a sheet, but runs over to cover for Honey still and that's what makes Luke lower his sword. 🤗

When they overhear their fates tho. If anything, I reckon Sunshine would want Honeybun to go with Luke and Percy. Because he doesn't want Honey to die. He'd never accept such fate upon Honey nor himself, so any way to escape it - he would do it. That's his way of saving his Luke.

#percy jackson #jason grace #lukercy #pjo show #pjo tv show #pjo #hoo #yone rambling #toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

[spiralnaissance]

Masquerade

Mr.Keegan x Reader [Bullet to the Head](2012)

Summary: Keegan fucks you in the bathroom Baptiste’s costume party. canon compliant (somewhat). 

Warnings: Not beta-read, semi-public? , p in v sex (unprotected) teasing, slut as pet name (once), rough sex, creampie 

A/N: This is a fic for a movie barely anyone cares about so bare with me for being super self-indulgent LOL

---

The living room of Baptiste’s ivory mansion pulsed with a cacophony of noises, as drunk guests bustled about engaging in vacuous and meaningless conversations. The smooth jazz and the sounds of chattering muffled as Keegan has you pushed against the walls of the sage green bathroom, large hands on your bare middle as he burrowed his fat cock into you. 

Baptiste had arranged for this opulent gathering as a flaunt of his personal wealth to his peers of the underworld; much like a peacock spreading its magnificent feathers to gather attention for a mate.

You aren’t particularly close to Baptiste, or Morel, in fact. You are just one of the many brokers on Morel’s payroll who scurries around the country to run errands and deliver parcels for generous pay. What initially began as a side hustle to pay for your education years ago eventually bloomed into a full-time job that you have no way of getting out of. Though attendance wasn’t mandatory, you reckoned it would be courtesy as an associate to respond to the invite nevertheless. In reality, you feared what would happen if you decided to be a no-show; Morel certainly isn’t known for his compassion towards those he is suspicious of. 

The bathroom is silent--save for the low humming of the ventilation, a tranquil haven from the otherwise hedonistic chaos outside. Keegan wastes no time manhandling you; arm hooked and curled around your waist as his other toys and teases your clit. You suck in air through your gritted teeth, and huffed-- he takes you from behind with a feverish, brutal pace-- frustration and irritation apparent in his haste movements. 

He’s absolutely pissed off at you, for being such a enticing distraction when he has a job to do-- to make sure no uninvited guests loiter around. The way you were making eyes at him from across the room, face partially concealed by the white and ornate Colombina you bear upon. He has the audacity to be crossed with your shameless behaviour, as he maneuvers his way across the restless crowds towards you. When he reaches you, you playfully desist his advances, in which he had enough decency and respect to begin to leave you alone-- until he looked down at your covered face and sees you giving him that damned teasing look. 

He brings his face closer to you, the cheap plastic of the mask rubs against the side of your head and your cheeks as he goads you. 

“Fuck,” Keegan murmured, face so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath against your own. “So good for me, aren’t you? So nice and wet and tight--” he groaned as he bit his own lips as an attempt to shut himself up, abandoning his obscene comments as the pleasure of your sweet cunt wash over him like sunshine after a storm. 

He despises the fact that he is enjoying this lewd display of flagrant lust; sounds of lewd, wet squelches and the rhythmic slaps of his balls against your ass amplified by the silence and echoes of the bathroom.

He has your silver cocktail dress bunched up on the back, his proximity to your back held the bunch in place. “K---Keegan--” you gasped, breath quickening as he continued to use and take whatever he needed from you. He hummed lowly in acknowledgement, the guttural sounds coming from his throat spluttering with his fitful breathing.

“It’s no good,” you spurred through breathless moans, dripping cunt clenching around his cock, “You can do better than this sloppy-ass job, Keegan,” you murmured, urging him on. “C’mon, harder,” your lips twisted into a self-satisfied smile, as you sense him grit his teeth in further exasperation. 

“Fuck,” he spits venom at you, “Aren’t you such a fuckin’ slut? Taking me right here where anyone else who needs a quick piss can see you take my cock like an animal in heat.” Yet despite his less-than-graceful comments, he obeyed your whiny pleas, cock dragging along the wet walls of your cunt, and slamming back into you with unforgiving pace. Keegan bottoms out, his cock fills you up snuggly, and the pleasure he offers you have your eyelids fluttering and your legs shaking.

The passion in him that detested you for diverting him shifted to one of pure primal need, his lips attacking any bare surface he could find on your skin, marking you all over places where he knew everyone would see. Keegan knows, for certain, that when he passes, he will be condemned to hell for the blood that stained his very hands, yet in this current moment, he allows himself to believe he's in heaven. 

His well-tailored suit, once sat nicely on his broad frame, is now drenched in sweat from his persistent pounding. You feel your lower stomach twist itself into blissful knots, signifying a euphoric release. “I-I’m gonna,” you whined, moaning wantonly as you felt your brain melt into jelly as you chased your orgasm. Keegan shifts one of his hands over to your lower abdomen, holding you up while he chuckles.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” He cooed, breathless and panting as he rolls his hips against you in spurs and uneven rhythm, signifying his own release. “I know you need to cum, baby, do it with me.” He pushes you further onto the wall-- as far and as close to you as he can get, as he grinds harshly against you. 

“Y-Yes--” your eyes rolled back, voice wavering, as Keegan fucks into you with shallow, rough thrusts while he pants and groans and growls. You feel your orgasm swell, as you milk Keegan’s cock for all he got-- every drop of his thick cum as he continues to pound into you with shorter and sporadic timing. 

He shifted positions again, removing his hand from your stomach and the wall as he steadied himself, making sure not to slip out of your spent cunt when he didn’t want to. He bunches up your creased dress further up and watches perversely as his softening cock slips out of you with his semen dripping slowly out of you. “Good girl,” he muttered, “You take me so well; your cunt is made just me, sweetheart.”

The embarrassment you once lacked suddenly fills your very being, and blood rushes to your face as you try to get your thoughts back together. Seeing this, Keegan chuckled darkly, as he pulled your panties back up--without cleaning you up, letting you wallow in the fullness of his cum inside of your pussy. 

“W-We should probably go,” you uttered, voice weaker and much more coarse than you’d like, as he took your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles, and you felt his stubble graze your soft skin. Soon, he ushers you out of the bathroom with one hand around your hips. 

As the night slowly went on, you eventually parted ways with him, along with a hopeful promise of another meeting.

Keegam stood in a corner, gathering his thoughts, while he pulled something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. His cellphone. About fifteen different miscalls from various associates of Morel, and another one from Morel himself. A notification for a text popped up as he began to scroll through his ‘recent calls’ list, and when he checked the text, it was a surveillance camera footage of an unconscious Baptiste being carried off by two other men.

Oops. 

#bullet to the head #keegan #Mr.Keegan x reader #jason momoa #jason momoa x reader #smut

[softrozene]

John with a Pregnant S/O

Anonymous requested: hi there! i love your blog and i LOVE your writing! could i please request a john x female reader who’s pregnant and maybe add some fluff? after i saw the micah one i thought maybe to ask for one with john cause it was so great! one shot or head cannon whatever you’re most comfortable with! thank you so much ❤️ 

rdr2 masterlist

I hope you enjoy this one! It is really sappy at the end. There is just a tiny smidge of angst again but that’s because it’s John lol. Also since Arthur does admit in the game that he would’ve married Abigail if he didn’t fall for Mary and if Abigail hadn’t fallen for John, I made him a bit sweet on the reader.

ALSO IRRELEVANT BUT- I just witnessed a totally easy to miss encounter where John tried to cheat on Abigail with Karen and I am shooketh

Originally published on March 13, 2020

John Marston x Female Reader

Warnings: Smidge of angst and an accidental plate full of angst for Arthur lmao (I did my boy wrong), fluff, pregnancy, AU where Abigail and Jack left the gang on a bad note

Words: ~1,350

-

“Darling, you need to go take a rest,” Arthur says in a low voice.

You ignore him as you scrub at his dirty clothing harder. He huffs but stays standing right beside you. You can tell he’s going to stay there until you rest but you feel like you need to move. Your anxiety is, after all, getting to you.

You are after all pregnant with John Marston’s baby. Only a select few people, one being Grimshaw, are aware or have suspicions since you are also hiding that fact. You are so terrified after hearing how he dealt with his ex-partner Abigail that you begged Arthur to lend you some of his clothing in an attempt to hide the bump.

Reluctantly, he has agreed. Only because he has the biggest soft spot for you and he’s the first person you told after you found out. You were going to tell John much sooner but then Dutch sent him and Hosea out on a mission that has taken far too long. It’s done a good job so far, the bump was hidden behind the large fabric, but it does look like you’ve gained a bit of weight. John Marston is no fool and you know he’ll comment on something about it.

“You are going to be just fine. John may be an idiot but he is an absolute fool for you. Any man in their right mind would be,” He admits with a small smile.

You glance up at the comforting words and stop your scrubbing. The hormones you are dealing with currently make you want to sob hysterically from his sweet words.

“You mean that Arthur Morgan?” You ask your voice already shaking.

He lets out a chuckle from knowing the drill. He opens up his arms and you immediately drop the clothing in the bucket of water to stand up and hug the man with all of your might. He answers your question.

“Damn right I mean it. If John so much as gives ya the wrong look for putting ya in this situation I will beat that little boy’s ass,” He states making you sniffle more as you try and stop your crying.

He allows you to pull away on your own time and when you do you stare up at him with those big grateful eyes that would make any man swoon over. Your smile makes his heartthrob and your words, despite feeling like an arrow pierced his heart, still make him incredibly happy.

“Thank you so much, Arthur. You certainly know how to make me feel better. You are a good man Arthur Morgan,” You state.

He can only smile and nod in return before a cough interrupts the both of you. You glance over your shoulder to see an exhausted John Marston. He eyes Arthur and you until you make the first move. You throw your arms around the man and are crying once more.

“John Marston, I missed you so much. Don’t ever agree on another job that long ever again,” You say your crying very prominent within your voice.

John chuckles at this odd welcome but pats your back. This time Arthur coughs. You and John pull away slightly and Arthur stares at John. “I reckon the both of you need to have a talk… Come get me if ya need to (Name),” He states putting his hand on your shoulder before walking off to go greet Hosea.

John raises an eyebrow and his hand cups your face to make you stare at him. “We need to talk? ‘Bout what? Wait… Are those Arthur’s clothes?”

You don’t say a word as you grab his much larger hand and pull him to your tent that Grimshaw so graciously got for you. A small cot is in the middle of it and you make him take a seat. His silence would’ve been nerving if you weren’t so used to it.

“Ah… Yes, I’m wearing Arthur’s clothes but only because I’ve been hiding something from most people here. I… I didn’t get the chance to tell you before your mission and I wasn’t planning on telling you any time soon but… I love you, John Marston,” You state as you hesitantly lift the larger shirt to reveal the tiny baby bump.

It takes a moment for the male to process what he sees. His eyes widen and he looks up at you his gaze suddenly hopeful. His hands immediately grab you by the waist and pull you close to him as he stands up.

“You’re pregnant? It’s mine?”

You laugh. “Of course it’s yours, John.”

He falters and his gaze falls just a tad. “You weren’t going to tell me? Why?”

“I got scared, John. After I heard what happened with Abigail when Jack was born… I couldn’t bear the thought…”

John realizes that Arthur was reassuring you of the worst-case scenario. Guilt floods through him. You finally drop the shirt and John takes both your hands in his. He looks at the ground as he tries to form the correct words. He’s not much for words but he feels the need to push away all of your doubts about him.

“Look (Name), I would never ever even dream of rejecting this. Abigail? She was a mess. Jack wasn’t even mine but she kept pushing him onto me. She finally gave up on trying to trick me. What I did to her though? It was not called for. It was messed up. I treated her pretty awful but I would never do that for you. Hell, if I ever think I might I’ll go ask Arthur to beat me up myself,” He admits finally looking you in the eye.

You smile and feel the waterworks coming yet again. The fool continues making you finally cry. “I love you (Name). What we have, I never want to lose. Knowing this kid is mine, I’m happy.”

You hiccup and he smiles as he brings you into a tight hug. The male gives you a few moments kissing the top of your head every once in a while until you pull away. When you do you reach for his hands once more.

“Thank you, John. I love you too. Do you want to officially announce this?” You ask softly.

John is the one that announces the pregnancy to the whole gang. A celebration was held to which John stuck with you the whole night. It was quite the opposite of when Abigail announced her pregnancy to which eased Arthur’s mind greatly.

He’s at peace knowing that John is happy with this. Your happiness with John means the world to Arthur and if John ever does anything to hurt you, Arthur will keep his promise to you.

 Bonus Headcanons:

There are just so many ways John could react to this

I think if he liked the reader and she wasn’t like Abigail he would act the way he did in the one-shot

However, he will also be so awkward and in shock the entire pregnancy. He’ll be in awe since you really are his partner and the baby is really his since you gave him no reason to doubt you

If he did doubt you Arthur, Hosea, and Grimshaw would beat him up in your defense

In the one-shot, John isn’t stupid and is fully aware of Arthur’s sweet spot for you, however, he is happy that Arthur feels that way because if anything happens to him, he knows that Arthur will take care of you

He won’t be clingy but he’ll keep an eye on you and make sure you have everything you need and whatnot

Basically, John will try and be the best he can be but his anxiety will sometimes take over to which only you or Arthur can kick him out of

He will occasionally go to Arthur or Hosea if he needs to talk to someone or go out for a drink

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #john marston x reader #female reader #fluff

[thswrtchdthng]

Okay here are some Magshawe prompt questions for your pleasure

1. Could Jonah kill Jonathan? Could Jonathan kill Jonah? I feel like they both have reasons to.

2. Who'd be willing to do cannibalism on the other?

3. Who do you think "died" first, Jonah's official death or Jonathan?

4. How do you think they met up?

5. Did they ever kiss?

6. Are they ever capable of being soft or are they stuck forever in passionate mode?

7. What if Dr.Fanshawe got time travelled to modern times and met Elias, would he fall again?

OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH

always coming in clutch, love that of you

1. well I've always thought of Jonathan as being quite a lot more physically strong than Jonah, so he definitely could kill him. I imagine it would be in a fit of that mix of rage and passion and fear and general morbidness that characterized the later part of their relationship. probably an accident too, and he'd feel equal parts like a hero for erasing an evil like that from the world and like absolute shit bc, well, he just killed the only person who understood him. he just killed his Jonah.

and as per Jonah, I don't think he could do it himself (even poisoning him or shit like that, it's just not his thing. I reckon he'd feel kinda meh about getting his hands dirty back then and he knows there are better things he could do). what he could do, and what he did in my interpretation of their relationship, is drive him to suicide. like just manipulating him and generally fucking him up emotionally and psicologically that he just kills himself yk. also in my brain it was a very gorey death, I might write something about that. of course, Jonah feels terrible about it too, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do yk.

2. cannibalism as a metaphor for love is so them. both. idk what it'd take for Jonah to do something like that but he's definitely not above it. I think a big part of his feelings for Jonathan in their later years together is the desire to metaphorically swallow Jonathan whole, which might translate to something literal. I'm not sure why or how, but he definitely could do it.

and Jonathan- well of course he could. I get the vibe that that desire to metaphorically devour the other was mutual, and along with his general Feelings by that point (the love, the rage, the constant panic, the distrust, the morbid curiosity) who knows what he could have done.

3. Jonathan. definitely. Jonah was not letting Jonathan outlive him, and I always thought the whole bodyhopping ordeal came as a surprise to him. so yeah he would've taken good care of Jonathan before anything.

although now that I think of it, the other option is also fun. Jonathan catching wind of the stuff going on both at the Institute and ar Millbank and being like "wtf are you doing now" but not wanting to give in to curiosity (and the need to see Jonah of course). Jonathan finding out about Jonah's 'death'!!!!!! he wouldn't know how to feel lmao.

4. hmmm I always thought they might have met at some sort of conference (those did happen back then didn't they) or symposium about some really morbid, really understudied branch of medicine (yk those that would piss off the church). Jonah did that thing where he starts asking the weirdest fucking questions like one asks about the weather and Jonathan was immediately like "he's so clever and interesting and curious and unashamed I need to talk to him" and they just hit it off

my second idea for a meetup is back in their university days. Jonah didn't study medicine (I have my own headcanon on that) but I think the general social scene was pretty open. maybe Jonah was out for drinks with some friends and saw Jonathan sulking in a corner and thought "interesting specimen, need to investigate"

a third idea I had was one of Smirke's little gatherings, but I wanted to see if I could come up with something new lol

5. yep. and much, much more. I imagine Jonathan was very reluctant at first, but by the time they first kissed the tension was unbearable and Jonah was already, well, a whore, so they were fine in the end (no they weren't).

6. wonderful question. I believe it's a mix of both. like their deranged passion has a bit of helpless softness mixed in, and back when they could be soft (before their entire relationship went to shit) even that softness held a passion that made it impossible to think straight.

7. oh that's a good one. for starters, it would be so fucking funny. like "what are you doing here" "what are YOU doing ALIVE. and how did you get there"

at first Jonathan would be absolutely outraged and disgusted by everything Jonah's done, but then, of course, he'd get curious. in my brain Jonathan was one of the first Flesh avatars, back when they were discussing whether the Flesh was real or not, so I think he'd have fun with that. and he was always big on the modification of the body from what it's born as to what you want it to be (Dr. Fanshawe said trans rights) so when he found out Jonah'd been straight up switching them around he'd be equal parts enraged and thrilled. can you imagine his reaction at how much medicine has progressed in the last 2 centuries? bby would be fucking elated.

Jonathan reading about modern medicine and being all euphoric while Jonah just watches him with heart eyes the entire time.

and it might get Jonathan far more into the Fears, especially into the Flesh. maybe he ends up like a different version of the Boneturner or something (and then monsterfucker Jonah kicks in and well, the rest is history yk).

this was so much fun tysm!!

#cw suicide mention #magshawe #jonahfanshawe #jonah magnus #jonathan fanshawe #tma #the magnus archives

[justgrey]

hihi!! I hope youre having a good day! May you please do headcannons of medic with an AFAB! s/o who sometimes gets very paranoid and has very bad intrusive thoughts and gets scared of them? Thank u sm!! Srry if it doesnt make sense.

Yeah sure! I myself haven't had many intrusive thoughts for a while so if feedback is necessary, please give me some and I'll make changes accordingly 🙏

Also my requests are open lol, please request. I'll literally write whatever 😭

Medic x Reader with Intrusive Thoughts - Headcannons (Romantic intended but I dunno)

Warnings : Intrusive thoughts

I reckon that Medic himself deals with intrusive thoughts. Although he's been dealing with them for so long that he's just learnt to push them out of his head and focus on something else like feeding and playing with his doves.

Actually, it's either that or they make him just as paranoid and scared as you which leads to self destructive behaviour. He's quite clearly lost his mind so it's hard to predict him and his responses.

Either way, if you have bad intrusive thoughts, he's softer than usual. He'd yell a lot less and be a little calmer to try make you less scared.

He likes holding you when you're freaking out a little because the intrusive thought hit you and he absolutely hates to see you in pain because you mean quite literally everything to this man.

He'd encourage you to tell him what the thought was about but he knows from personal experience that it can be hard to share things like that so he would barely push it and just make it a suggestion.

Medic is not a judgemental man. He's done a lot of bad things and he's aware of that and just doesn't care. So he makes it clear to you that your intrusive thoughts are not something alien and he won't be disgusted by them, knowing that they're just uncontrollable thoughts.

He spends most of his time around you after you tell him that you have intrusive thoughts because he hopes that his presence is comforting enough to atleast help you be less paranoid.

He makes it clear that he knows that you'd never do anything that you're thinking because you're kind despite probably also working as a mercenary with him but if you're not working as a mercenary then he'd still tell you that because he adores you.

He'd do anything he could to comfort you and make you less paranoid. He always offers his help and will make sure that he's always near you so that you can come to him if you need some comfort.

Medic seems like a total maniac and he is in a way but that doesn't mean that he doesn't care about you. He'd do anything to make you feel safe and happy because you make him feel safe and happy <3

#tf2 #team fortress two #medic x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 medic x reader #medic tf2 #tf2 medic

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

Inspiration Weekend ..

Thanks so much for the tag @welcometololaland !!

This little collage that it took me a loong time to make lol even if it isn't very good, is partly inspired by @lemon ‘s 🍋 very funny visual of TK being put on a pony because Carlos doesn’t trust him on a horse and then the pony walking into a lake 🤣

And partly by this thing that happened when I was asked what is the one thing I want to see in s5 which turned into a whole thing that has now turned into a WIP. 🙃

The rough gist of it is under the cut lol:

Also tagging with absolutely no pressure at all(!) @whatsintheboxmh, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-in-glasses, @lemonlyman-dotcom,

@heartstringsduet, @thisbuildinghasfeelings , @carlos-tk , @lightningboltreader ,

@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad , @never-blooms , @herefortarlos , @paperstorm

The weekend is almost over lol so if you still want to do it consider that my fault and maybe it can be any-day-of-the-week-inspiration :):)

I WANT TARLOS TO VISIT THE REYES RANCH (lol I forget, is the Reyes Ranch even canon or is it just so unanimously fanon that it feels like it is?) either way… I NEED CARLOS ON A HORSE SO BAD !! I NEED TK TO SEE CARLOS ON A HORSE SO BAD!!! I NEED THEM TO GO TO SUNDAY LUNCH, OR A WEDDING OR BIRTHDAY AND LAUGH AND JOKE AND BEING THE COOLEST FUNNEST UNCLES FOR ALL THE KIDS RUNNING AROUND!!!

I NEED Carlos’ sisters to tease him in front in TK. I NEED for Carlos to teach TK horseback riding and take him to a romantic spot and I also NEED for one or both of them to go all heart eyes at seeing the other with the kids or just for Carlos to see TK being casual and charming and familiar with the Reyes family🥹 also BONUS POINTS if someone gets injured, or goes into labor, or one of the kids gets sick in some way, and TK flashes his paramedic skills, just flexes those paramedic muscles you know? 🚑💪

Here’s what I want: I want the ranch to go up for sale. Gabriel should have been the one to inherit it, and he and Andrea were to move there come his retirement. Obviously Gabriel wasn’t doing all the ranch work (he was a Texas Ranger so he wouldn’t have the time) - there were workers and some of Carlos cousins working on it, Gabriel just had the overall picture of what needed to be done, ongoing and future projects etc, took care of some legal and tax matters and so on.

Carlos has one cousin who is studying to be a vet and taking side courses in some other important and relevant subject when it comes to owning a ranch and the plan all along was that she was gonna take it over at some point from Gabriel and Andrea but she is still in school and the sad truth is someone needs to take over the legal ownership and the tasks that Gabriel did until then or it will have to go up for sale. Legally the inheritance would go directly to Carlos and his sisters, and his sisters are ready to be co-owners and split the tasks until it’s ready to move on the family line. But they need Carlos to be with them on it, partly because he lives the closest and knows the ranch best because Gabriel took him there a lot when he was younger, partly because Tía Lucy has said that that is the only option (in order to force to Carlos to reckon with his past with Gabriel because she is a spiritual woman who knows stuff)

Because the thing is, Carlos’ childhood memories of the ranch are more ambiguous than his sisters’. He has fond memories of it but it also reminds him of a time where he didn’t feel like he could show his true self and be seen by his family, where he didn’t think that his dad was proud of him, and where he would look at all his family members bringing long terms and new partners and kids to lunch and parties and think that this is something he would never have for himself🥺

TK and Carlos are invited to an upcoming facility party on the ranch, and TK talks Carlos into going there a few days before under the pretense that he just thinks they both need a few vacation days and with suggestive comments about how badly he wants Carlos to take him horseback riding 🐴 and then ride Carlos in a field of blooming daffodils😏🌼 but really he suspects the truth about Carlos mixed feelings toward the ranch and thinks that Carlos would benefit from confronting and processing some of those feelings and memories, that also connects to his grief for Gabriel.

So they go, and everything above mentioned transpires, giving Carlos some good healing memories associated with the ranch + some Carlos grieving and reminiscing and processing and talking to TK about it all who listens and wipes at his tears and rubs his back and kisses his salty wet lips and his forehead (idk if this happens before or after TK rides him in a field of daffodils).

It all ends happily with Carlos agreeing to take temporary co-ownership over the ranch and having processed a lot of stuff related to his past and his relationship with Gabriel 😌😌:(

#inspiration weekend #ranch fic #tag games #tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk strand on a pony #lol sorry about that btw #the reyes family ranch #sad carlos on a ranch #:(