#especially considering i hang onto stressful situations more than a normal person

[volleychumps]

« Accidentally Lashing Out at Their S/O

genre: angst to fluff

format: scenarios

- includes: Akaashi and Sakusa 

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

Akaashi Keiji

“Keiji, please come to bed soon.” 

“Working.” 

The snipped reply had the beginnings of a swirl of anger within your stomach, causing you to puff out some hair in your eyes in slight annoyance. This had been a week long occurrence, and you feared Akaashi may faint from exhaustion from how heavy he took on his workloads every night. 

“Y/N, please sleep. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Akaashi attempted to soften his tone, but an edge still remained that highlighted his irritability. You gnawed on your lower lip momentarily before taking a seat on the couch not too far away, reaching for your book. 

“Y/N-” 

“When you sleep, I’ll sleep.” 

“Are you a child?” 

You scoff through your nose, feeling an argument on the tip of your tongue depending on how you responded.

“I just care about you, you haven’t slept before three in the morning in days, my love-” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you being too overbearing is adding to my stress?” Akaashi’s voice raised the slightest in volume, making your chest sink at the rare circumstance you found yourself in. It was as if all the stress bubbling up in his stomach was beginning to simmer over. 

“Maybe if you stopped and thought for a moment you would realize-” 

You snapped your book shut. Akaashi’s pen stopped bleeding angrily onto the document as a silence of realization flooded the room. 

“Good idea. Maybe I should think more, because right now, I’m realizing how much of a prick you’ve been to me when I’ve been nothing but patient.” 

“Y/N-” 

“I change my mind, don’t come to bed. Work yourself to the point until you pass out in that desk of yours.” Your tone didn’t waver, and you tried your best to appear unbothered-

but Akaashi heard it. Your voice crack.

You rushed out of the room before the blue-eyed boy could even rise from his desk, guilty apology in his throat. He sighed, following you into your shared bedroom as you continued your novel from within the sheets, seemingly unfazed save for your watery eyes. 

“Love, please look at me.” He sat carefully on the edge of the bed as you turn another page in disinterest. 

“Keiji, you know it hurts me when you aren’t healthy right? What if you get sick?” Your eyes didn’t look up from the ink on paper you weren’t paying attention to, but a tear slipped your eye. The defeated tone in your wavering words made Akaashi’s chest tighten even more. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Let me sleep with you tonight?” 

The novel now laid forgotten on your lap as you allow him to move closer to you, cupping your cheek carefully before pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I’ll be better. You’re right, I’m way too exhausted-” 

“Then let’s get you out of work clothes-” You unloosen his tie, using it to pull him into you to which he responds immediately. His breath fans your lips, blue eyes gazing into yours tiredly and lovingly before you kiss him quickly. “And into bed.” 

He laughs once, soft smile gracing his handsome features before kissing your lips a second time. 

“There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi

 “Go talk to him. It doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Kiyoomi, please-” You followed your tall boyfriend with exasperation on your features, making sure not to trip on your dress. 

“Did you forget who you came here with, Y/N?” Sakusa’s tone was coldly amused as your cheeks flood with heat with people beginning to stare. 

“Let’s talk in private.” 

Sakusa knew he should’ve listened. The rational part of him knew that he should’ve scanned the situation better, but that rational part was drowned out by the image of a flirty Atsumu talking you up near the open bar. 

“Why? You don’t want everyone to know that my girlfriend was flirting with my teammate at Hinata’s sponsor’s event?” He scoffed, but Sakusa’s lips soon find themselves sealed tight at the sight of the tears welling up in your eyes. 

You angrily wipe at them before trying to control your emotions. “You left me alone at a party where I hardly know anyone. You went to go talk to connections or whatever, making me feel like I was nothing but an accessory for you to bring. So excuse me if I found solace in a friend because my boyfriend abandoned me at a social event.” 

Sakusa’s dark eyes widened a fraction before you brush past him, bumping him in the shoulder with your own to dash down the hallway as far as your heels would allow. 

“Atsumu just wanted to make her feel comfortable.” Bokuto approaches his teammate, feeling guilty for having shown up a little late. “We were all going to hang around Y/N because this was her first event as your girlfriend.” 

“And you shouldn’t have left her alone.” Atsumu mumbled, barely audible for the party guests who were beginning to lose interest in the sparked drama. Sakusa’s jaw clenched before he winced, remembering your hurt expression before sighing and turning on his heel. He would deal with the annoying blonde later. 

He walked the same hallway you had ran down, feeling an unfamiliar emotion of guilt eat at his stomach. Was it because you were the first girl he opened his heart to? Was he really blinded by the anger of potentially losing you to someone who could make you laugh as easily as Atsumu did? 

Sakusa stalled at the sight of your heels laying by the balcony doors. He pushed them easily, heels in hand, before finding you nursing the soles of your feet in your dramatic escapade. 

The two of you stayed silent for awhile, the dark haired spiker kneeling down to your seated height before carefully picking up one of your sore feet. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s not clean-” 

“You’re hurt.” Was his curt reply before gently massaging it. You stare at your dark eyed boyfriend before your eyes begin to well up with tears again. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“No.” He cut you off, beginning to slip your shoe back on. “You did nothing wrong. I...I don’t know how to do this. Not with someone I love. I’m sorry if I made you feel as if you were nothing but a pretty accessory on my arm.”

“Kiyoomi...” 

“Although you are pretty-” He pulls down his mask and kisses your shin, causing heat to flood your cheeks. “You are so much more than that. I know I don’t say it often, but I hate seeing you cry. Especially if it’s by me. So teach me to love you properly, because I want to know how.” 

Your smile was so gorgeous in the moonlight, Sakusa cleared his throat before blushing underneath his mask, busying himself with the straps of your heels. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

And then he couldn’t help himself, tugging his mask down a second time to capture your lips with his own, closing his eyes. 

“You make my head spin, Y/N.” He whispers, causing you to shiver as his cold fingers touch the side of your neck. 

“But I think I like it.” 

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

Hey guys! I changed up the characters and I’m only writing for two because I’m easing back into writing normally. I’ve been on a break for awhile because there’s been some personal issues going on at home and in school. Thank you for reading regardless:)

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu anime #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #sakusa #haikyuu #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa haikyuu #akaashi #haikyuu akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu angst #haikyuu reads #haikyuu fics

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars Time Travel Au #27

Suicidal misunderstanding AU: Obi-Wan only a year or two into his desert exile is thrown back in time to the height of the clone wars. Due to circumstances, he assumes this is a hallucination and after enjoying hanging out with his friends for a while, decides he really needs to wake up before he dies of dehydration. When intense meditation fails, he tries to break the illusion by kriffing killing himself. Panic from all parties ensues. 

-------

Ben-the-realitively-new-Hermit has made the informed decision to try out this whole spice thing, takes an absolutely massive spice dose, like 4 whole spices. Taps into the force and starts having a wild out of body experience, he can see the i n s i d e o f t i m e

General Kenobi is on Courasacasant for some extremely rare R&R, gets pulled to go drinking with Cody and some of the 212th. He blacks out for a minute and wakes up really confused. Like, he was drinking but this seems like he might’ve taken something extra, let’s get him back to the temple to sleep it off. 

On the hovercar ride back Obi-Wan is babbling, saying how happy he is to see everyone again, and how he doesn’t blame them for trying to kill him. And uh

“Truly Cody, I know you would never fire at me if you were you, I think Palpatine must have been controlling your minds somehow. I swear, I’ll- I’ll try and find you - I - I’m so sorry,” he said leaning into Cody’s space, starting out earnestly and becoming increasingly unsettlingly intense.

“Sir?” Cody responds nervously, but Obi-Wan was distracted by the view out the hovercar’s window.

“Are you taking me to the temple?” he asks hollowly. 

 Yes sir, I think you’ve had a few too many drinks, you’re- to be blunt, you’re not making any sense and its a bit alarming. I think it would be best if you slept things off in your personal quarters for a bit” the commander answers tensely.

Obi Wan is quiet for a minute, growing more subdued. 

“Will he be there? Will- will- Anakin be there?” he finally asks.

“I believe the 501st is still on leave. I can comm him if you wish?” slightly relieved at the prospect of passing whatevers going on with his General to someone with more general intel on the subject.

Obi-Wan grow quiet again. “Yes,” he whispers suddenly. “I want to see him, force help me, I still want to see him. I -I miss him,” and at that, to everyones horror, he begins tearing up.

Cody fumbles to activate his comm. “Commander Cody to General Skywalker. General Skywalker, I am requesting immediate response. I repeat, Commander CC-2224 to General Skywalker, I am requesting-”

“This had better be life-or-death Cody. I’m on leave. You’re on leave. Why are we contacting me and not Obi-Wan?” General Skywalker whines into the com.

“It’s about General Kenobi, sir”

“Is he injured?” General Skywalker responded sharply, suddenly laser focused.

“He’s- he’s crying sir.” And he was. The sound of General Skywalker’s voice had turned the trickle of tears into full blown sobs. He was clinging to Waxer, who looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

“He’s what”

“He’s crying, and he said he missed you. Please tell me you’re at the temple, sir” he all but begged.

“Is this supposed be a practical joke?” Skywalker responded annoyed. “Did Rex somehow put you up this?”

“This is not a joke. He blacked out in the bar, started rambling about forgiving us for trying to kill him, and now he’s crying” For additional proof he holds the comm out to General Kenobi, who just continued to sob incoherently.

“Is he drugged?” Skywalker responds. There’s the sound of rapid shuffling in the background, hopefully him moving to meet them at the temple gates.

“Unknown, sir. I only saw him consume alcohol, but not enough to fully account for his...altered state” 

“Are you recording him?” Skywalker’s voice is muffled by...the sound of traffic? Dank farrik, was he not at the temple?

“Am I what” the commander responds indignantly. 

“Kidding!” Anakin quickly shoots back. “Anyway I’m 5 minutes out from the temple, you?

He quickly conferred with Longshot, who was designated driver and, based on his white knuckles, focused with mission-level intensity on navigating traffic. 

“We’ll arrive at the secondary temple gate in 10. Any orders on how to... mitigate the situation?” A quick glance at Kenobi revealed that Waxer had proceeded to patting him on the back like an overwhelmed cadet. It was unclear whether it was helping or not.

“Oh, I have no idea,” Anakin answered, overly gleeful “I can’t even remember the last time he cried. And his alcohol tolerance is unfairly ridiculous so I have no idea if this is normal for him when he’s drunk.”

With that piece of unhelpful intel the vehicle lapsed into mostly silence, broken only by the sound of Kenobi’s hiccuping sobs. 

Anakin calls to confirm he’s waiting in the top entry bay at the secondary temple gates. He pauses for a moment, empty static coming over the comm. “Did he really say he missed me?” 

Cody closes his eyes for a moment. He was not designed to deal with this dammit. He just wanted to go drinking with his- his fellow officer and maybe see him relax a little. he knew the Jedi were stressed by the war but if this is what a Jedi dealing with feelings looked like then -then forcedammit this is what a Jedi relaxing looked like. They should be honored that the Generals trusted them enough to let their guard down. Clearly Obi-Wan needed his younger vod’s support more than he had realized, especially if they were, in a way, a squad of two for over a decade. 

“Yes sir. When he realized we were bringing him back to the temple he asked if you would be there. I offered to comm you, he confirmed audibly that he wanted to see you, and that he missed you. Thats- that’s when the crying began. We made contact immediately after.”

“Oh.” He left the channel open between them. Cody could distantly hear the sound of pacing on the other end

Obi-Wan was staring at the commlink in Cody’s bracer with an unreadable expression. He swallowed a few times, and, hand shaking visibly, reached out and pulled Cody’s wrist close “Anakin? Is that Anakin? My Anakin?” Obi-wan’s voice was shaking along with the rest of his body.

“Your Anakin huh?” came the response, in a reflexively teasing tone. “What happened the ‘dangers of possessiveness and attachment’ you’re always lecturing me on?

Obi-wan responded, to Waxer and Cody’s mixed emotions, by shifting bodily over to Cody, clinging onto his arm for dear life and bending over to press his  forehead to the comm unit, letting out a keening sob.

“Um, Master? Was that you?” Anakin squeaked out with characteristic helpfulness.

“I don’t want to see the temple burning” Obi-Wan rasped into Cody’s bracer, “I want to see you but I don’t want to see the bodies in the temple, not again, please Anakin I don’t want to look at them again. Anakin I just want to see you not- not- not-” and it was almost a relief when the chilling words broke down into dry sobs. Cody wanted to pat him on the back with his free arm, but considering how he was clinging to cody’s comm unit, it turned into an awkward full body hug that Obi-Wan absolutely melted into.

“Oh kriff, did you have a vision, Master? Is that what this is about? The temple’s fine, I’ll show you when you get here, there’s no bodies here, I promise”

“Obi-Wan just shook, curling up halfway into Cody’s lap”

Next (Part Two)

#star wars #suicidal misunderstanding au #tw: attempted suicide #character is not actually suicidal #but beileves they're haveing an extended hallucination and their attempts to wake up look an awful lot like suicide to everyone else so #tw: self harm #tw #star wars au #my au #sw #star wars au no 27 #shoutout to sky-wolf0550 #for being my first ever like no idea if youre a bot or not but I'm new here so thank you

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 3.2k words ➷Humor, slight angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, shenanigans ofc, i missed oikawa ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ✈Part 7

Hajime nearly chokes, wiping the ‘potion’ dribbling down his jawline, he presses the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the disgusting concoction from exiting his gut. 

“...How was it?”

You try to pat his back sympathetically (he’s gagging now), but you’re the one that insisted he try the mystery remedy first, and you cautiously pull your hand away as he shoots you the most menacing glare he can while he’s coughing into his palm. 

“It was made with weird mushrooms and fucking plants, how do you think it tastes?”

Terrible, you guess. And the effects were supposed to be instantaneous, according to a recipe dropped in one of the posts you found… not that you expected it to work. 

“Ahh, and nothing happened.”

You rub your jaw semi-thoughtfully, before catching the look on Hajime’s face. 

“Uh, Hajime?”

His expression is glaring, not unlike someone scheming for revenge. But that’s silly, Hajime wouldn’t blame you for the potion not working, right?

“It probably didn’t work because you didn’t try it with me.”

It seems he would, realization sets in as Hajime closes in on you, and you panic,

“I think it didn’t work because it was someone bullshitting!”

“Don’t you want to swap back? Just drink it!”

“You’re just mad, get away from me!”

You trip on your feet, stumbling into the kitchen table. It scrapes the tile as your hands clutch for purchase on anything that’ll help you get you away from the madman behind you, but the tablecloth you’ve grasped at isn’t much help seeing as you swipe it off the table entirely. You’d be impressed that all the plates and the flower-filled vase stayed perfectly set on the table from your impromptu magic trick, if it weren’t for Hajime assaulting you.

You cry out as if you’re being brutally attacked (you are, technically–just with plant juice), and Hajime takes you by the jaw and tilts a cup of the swirling cocktail to your lips, sloshing rather unappetizingly in the glass. If the thing had an aura, it’d have a thick gray cloud fuming from it. 

“And why would I be mad?”

“Because I made you drink a potion I found on a weird thread even though it was totally suspicious and completely untrustworthy!”

You confess to your sins, the thread was actually some sort of troll that promised the reader would swap bodies with their favorite celebrity, and you cast it aside for the likelihood of that never happening, it was probably a scam to get some gullible teens to drink essentially dirt.

And you admit that initially you thought it would be funny to prank Hajime, jotting down the recipe and conveniently leaving out the celebrity bit, but in your excitement to scheme you forgot Hajime doesn’t take too well to pranks at his expense. 

Not without retribution at least, and you find yourself grappling at his wrists, attempting to turn your head away from the glass.

He eyes you with a too eager grin,

“You should try it, really, it might work.”

It didn’t. 

It was disgusting. 

You have learned your lesson not to trifle with Hajime, and you're no closer to finding a solution to your problem. 

You slump onto the kitchen table, feeling especially abused and violated by the plant paste you regretfully crafted. 

“That’s number one on the list, what’s next?”

Hajime rests his elbow on the table, chin in palm as he scrolls on his phone. 

“Bonk our heads together so hard we pass out and hopefully wake up in our own bodies?”

You suggest. Who knows, it could actually work.

“No thanks, I’d rather not wake up the same way but with a concussion.”

The second Hajime turns down your cartoonish suggestion, his phone lights up and buzzes, signifying a call.

You glance at his phone, “Tooru’s calling you?”

“Fuck. I’ll just ignore it,”

The moment he sets his phone aside, the kitchen door bursts open, presenting none other than Oikawa Tooru, entirely expected given the situation and the fact that Hajime’s parents are still at work. 

“Tooru?!”

You blink in surprise, and Tooru frowns at the sight of the two of you together. 

“I knew you were ignoring me!”

“What the fuck Shittykawa, who said you could come over?”

Hajime grimaces, forgetting to stay true to your personality in his surprise. Tooru’s brow ticks at the catty response to his entrance. 

“I see you’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan, using his terrible nicknames! I didn’t think you’d ever use it on me either, but here we are!”

He folds his arms across his chest, and Hajime covers his mouth.

Shit, he let that one slip in his initial shock. 

“Besides, this is Iwa-chan’s house, and I say I can come over! You two have been ignoring me all week and coming up with the shittiest excuses—”

“Oikawa—”

“No, let me finish!”

He huffs, looking more serious than you’ve seen him outside the court. Judging by his posture and the worry in his brows, you can tell he’s been stressing himself lately. You bite your cheek, knowing full well you and Hajime were the root of the cause.

“Both of you have to go to the dentist when the office is closed, really? Iwa-chan studying for a test that’s not for another week, please! Give me a break. Not to mention, every practice you play like shit Iwa-chan,”

It’s not shit, you’re just not Hajime’s usual, because you’re not fucking Hajime. You want to argue, defend yourself and Hajime, but you keep your lips sealed. 

“You act like a total weirdo, you hardly talk to your own teammates and friends, and you–”

He turns to Hajime, technically you, scowl ever present. 

“You always run off with him after school! And don’t even pretend like you’re not having lunch with him too, Kunimi-chan saw you eating alone together by the art building–ditching me, yeah?”

He’s fuming, and his hair is moving in every direction accompanying his wild, frantic gestures. 

The guilt starts piling, and you’re starting to regret yours and Hajime’s way of handling the situation. 

To avoid uncomfortable situations and messing up, you thought the best method was to steer clear from everyone entirely. 

Clearly that’s backfiring, but it’s too late to erase those actions now. 

“Not only have you two spent all week lying to me, you’ve been completely ignoring my calls and texts all weekend too!”

Tooru pauses, rant seemingly over, but neither you or Hajime feel inclined to speak yet, too caught off guard by the outburst, and unsure of what you can say to remedy the situation. 

Tooru drops his arms at his sides, glancing away from the two of you, biting his lip. Your shoulders tense when you feel the atmosphere around him drop significantly.

“Are you guys mad at me?”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

You forgot he had feelings. 

“Oikawa, it’s not that, I swear.”

You speak first, and Tooru looks to you with an expression that almost breaks your heart right there. Brown eyes glossy, lips in a thin line as if he’s trying to keep them from turning down into a frown, he looks genuinely displeased.

“Are you just sick of me? Are you tired of hanging out with me? I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but if it makes you guys that upset I can stop, I’ll be better.” 

In any other context you may quip with a ‘you could stop this whole time?’, but the joke wouldn’t sit right, and Tooru looks entirely too on edge, fingers tapping at his sides restlessly. 

Tooru’s always been the type to stay true to himself, unabashedly and unapologetically. He knows he’s flawed, has learned to accept his shortcomings as a person. But here he is before you and Hajime, willing to cast aside his pride for the sake of your friendship. It only serves to guilt you more, considering it’s based upon the lies you’ve built up.

“I promise we’re not sick of you, we just… had something come up that we had to deal with. It’s been really stressful, I’m sorry.”

You don’t particularly care if it’s too out of character, it’s what Tooru needs to hear. 

Risking a glance at Hajime, you see he’s shaking his leg and biting his lip, a few of his nervous tics, he’s contemplating something heavily. 

“And you can’t tell me? You always tell me when something is wrong.”

Tooru eyes you suspiciously, and it’s true, usually you can tell Tooru anything. But this isn’t something believable, and you and Hajime both decided it’s best kept a secret. 

“We can’t, but it’s nothing you did. Don’t worry about it, we’ll start hanging out soon, like we used to, we just have to deal with this ourselves.”

And you hope you’ll be able to, it’d be nice to go back to normal. You did miss movie nights with Tooru and Hajime, and you miss having lunch together on the rooftop. 

Tooru thinks for a moment, you see the gears turning in his head, eyes focused. He glances to Hajime, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, still tense on the other side of the table. 

Tooru’s contemplative gaze flicks to you, as if he’s had some sort of revelation. 

“Did you get her pregnant?”

WHA—THAT’S HIS REVELATION?

“You asshole, shut up!”

Hajime’s choice first words. 

“What?! No, no, fuck no!”

You blush heavily at his wild accusation, and Tooru looks visibly relieved. 

“Oh, thank god. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, necessarily, and I always kind of expected it, but this is just too soon.”

He laughs airily, as if he doesn’t feel the weight of his words like you do, heavy on your heart. Does everyone have that assumption? That you and Hajime would one day be together like that?

“We’re not even dating, idiot.”

Ouch. Hajime’s adamant refusal jabs at you, and you try to ignore the ache that claws at your chest. That may have stung a bit, but you certainly won’t admit it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be ignoring me like that.”

“It’s ‘cause we swapped bodies.”

You whip your head to Hajime, physically ripped from your disappointment, too shocked he’d blab the truth to Tooru and expect a reasonable outcome from it.

“Hah. Hah.”

Tooru doesn’t even entertain the explanation, arms crossed and eyes disinterested, accompanying the dry laugh well.

“It’s true.”

You hope Hajime knows what he’s doing. 

“Funny, and I didn’t think you’d be in on it Iwa-chan, looking so surprised like that.”

Tooru doesn’t even look skeptical, or remotely fazed, as if he doesn’t want to be tricked into falling for something so blatantly stupid. 

And normally, he’d be right to, but in this case, you and Hajime were unfortunately not kidding. 

“I just didn’t think Hajime would openly admit that without talking to me first.”

You shoot a glance at Hajime, as if to convey ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’, but he merely shrugs in response. 

“And you’re a real prankster today too. What’s gotten into you guys? Seriously, are you mad at me?”

Tooru is starting to look a little peeved, visibly doubting your words of encouragement from earlier. 

“We’re not mad. We switched places. We woke up last Sunday in each other’s bodies. That’s why we haven’t been ourselves, and that’s why we’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Hajime continues with his explanation, as if Tooru would be any closer to believing it.

Which he isn’t. 

“That’s not even possible, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re Iwa-chan, supposedly. What’s something that only he would know?”

Tooru crosses his arms smugly, staring at your body, who is ‘supposedly’ Hajime, as if he’s got you two in checkmate. 

This can’t be good for Tooru, but it’s definitely going to be good for you if you’re getting in on a secret. 

“Alright. You swore me to secrecy for this one,” Hajime doesn’t hesitate for one second, “that time at the volleyball banquet last year you saw a girl with a ‘nice ass’ in a ‘super mega tight dress’ and wanted to hit on her, but when you tapped her shoulder, she turned around and it was actually Y/N–”

Now this is very interesting news to you. 

“H-HEY, STOP TALKING–”  

Hajime side steps Tooru’s attempt to cover his mouth,

“And you pre-gamed before the event so you drunkenly admitted to me that you’d still tap that but she’s practically your sister and that’s gross but her ass looked so–”

“I get it okay! How do I know you’re not just fucking with me and broke the secret pact we made?!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off and glares at you, but you’re giving him the widest, shit-eating grin. 

“I knew that dress looked good.”

“Enough games already!”

“What about the time in elementary school where you and I went to a volleyball match and you had to–”

“ENOUGH, enough, I believe you, okay!”

Tooru relents, red-faced and practically sweating from his nervous panic. 

“I wanna know about the time in elementary school where you and Hajime went to a volleyball match and something happened.”

You put your hand up, wanting to know the juicy details. You thought you and Tooru told each other everything, but apparently there’s some missing gaps in that ‘everything’, and you’re very eager to learn. 

“We made a friendship promise and he swore me not to tell anyone but because of the circumstances, he had to—” 

“I said I believed you already, stop trying to out me!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off at the best part, every time. 

He taps his foot with a huff, bottom lip twitching into a frown. Hajime gives him a smug look, staring back combatively, as if Tooru will attempt to call out bullshit again (he won’t). 

You’ll have to remember to ask Hajime about the middle school incident at a later date, but right now, 

“I’m sorry we kept this from you, and sorry I kept ignoring your calls, Tooru. We didn’t know what to do.”

You interrupt their staring contest, wrapping your arms around Tooru in a tight hug. You’re the tallest you’ve ever been, and it’s weird to hug him when you aren’t yourself, but you missed your best friend. 

“Uh…”

Tooru awkwardly pats your back,

“I was kind of lying before because I thought you guys were trying to shame and humiliate me, but this is really weird and I actually might believe you now.”

“Asshole, that’s all it took?! And stop hugging him like that, it's freaking me out!”

Hajime slaps Tooru on the back, yanking you by the back of your shirt to pull you from the hug. 

He grumbles something indecipherable under his breath, contemplating whether he should even say anything, 

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

He gives Tooru an awkward, much gentler slap on the back, before slinging his arm around Tooru in some sort of half-hug gesture.

“I-Iwa-chan! It really is you in there!”

Oikawa’s fake tears spring to life as he bends down to wrap Hajime in a hug, who struggles like a cat wanting to be released. 

“Get off me!”

Tooru pulls back, wiping a tear from his long lashes, 

“I’m still really upset right now, I really thought you guys hated me! So if you could please shower me with adoration, that’d be lovely.”

Tooru spreads out his arms, a pathetic expression on his face that Hajime doesn’t buy for one second. 

“Tooru! I love you! You’re the best Tooru, your jump serves are great! Your setting is unmatched! You’re my bestest friend!”

You cheer him on, Hajime is balking that you’d even entertain the idea of doing that in his body, let alone acting on it, but Tooru eats it up with gleaming eyes. 

“Quit feeding his ego!”

It’s your turn to be scolded by Hajime, but you just stick your tongue out at him sheepishly. 

“He deserves it?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! He didn’t do anything, and we were being bad friends.”

“I’m on your side,”

Tooru slings an arm around your shoulder and gazes down at Hajime, who’s more aggravated now than when he was drinking straight plant paste. 

It hadn’t bothered him too much initially, but having to crane his neck up to glare at Tooru is sparking some caveman urge deep inside Hajime to absolutely throttle him.

“Out. Get out of my house.”

“Technically, this isn’t your house–OW, Iwa-chan, that still hurts!”

“Newsflash Asshole-kawa, girls can hit too!”

They can, and you let Hajime prove his point. 

“So,”

“If it’s something about aliens, I don’t want to hear it.”

You interrupt Tooru before he can spew something definitely about aliens.

“I wasn’t going to bring up aliens–though it’s a very valid cause you definitely need to consider. I was actually going to ask if you have any idea how long you’re gonna be like this?”

You give Tooru a tired look, and Hajime just ignores him entirely, tired of glaring no doubt. 

Tooru’s been lazing around, attempting to ‘help’ you and Hajime, but you doubt he’s accomplished anything aside from scrolling through the same threads you’ve looked through. You’re willing to bet he researched for a minute or two before losing interest, abandoning the task in favor of looking through Karasuno’s and Shiratorizawa’s match history.

“If we knew, we’d tell you.”

You respond, since it seems Hajime isn’t interested in replying.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Tooru props his elbows up on the couch, pausing whatever volleyball match he was watching to drop his phone on his chest, “I saw this foreign family comedy once where the mom and her daughter swapped places, but they had to show each other selfless love and understand what the other goes through to swap back.” 

Tooru gasps in additional realization before turning to Hajime, “Iwa-chan, are you her mom?”

The look Hajime gives Tooru is enough to put him in a grave and send secondhand chills down your spine. 

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me again! Your hands are pointy and jabby now, it’s hard to get used to.”

Ignoring that, 

“Hajime and I already understand each other, we have to put up with you all day.”

“True,” Tooru is completely unbothered by that comment, “I did see a romcom where the two main characters had to kiss at the end, they ended up swapping places like that.”

You don’t like that he casually suggests this with such an innocent look on his features.

“That sounds stupid, watch better movies.”

Hajime grunts out, and you’ll admit that kissing Hajime would be nice, but under normal circumstances preferably. You don’t particularly want to kiss yourself as Hajime. 

“I appreciate all your knowledge in films that have body swaps in them Tooru, but this isn’t a romcom, or a movie.”

You sigh, and Tooru hums thoughtfully. 

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sits upright with ease, sliding off the couch and pocketing his phone, 

“Anyways, I’ve got more practice to do. I’ll try not to be too hard on you tomorrow, now that I know you’ve swapped with that brute over there. Ciao!”

Tooru ducks out of the living room and out the Iwaizumi household before Hajime can assault him, and good thing, he probably would’ve had some bruises from your ‘jabby’ and ‘pointy’ hands. 

With Tooru’s quick escape, you’re left contemplating whether that suggestion would actually work or not, risking glances to Hajime across the room.

A/N: not me ending a chapter on a juicy bit again afjknddm, anyways im posting this at an ungodly time but i hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android @cuddlesslut @bumbledunce​

#haikyuu!! #hq!! #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi hajime fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader

[rosyredlipstick]

guess who watched high school musical 2 and got caught up in the ryan/chad of it all: a conchell AU

this is pure 100% cheese. thats ur warning. also unbeta-ed.

Spending the entire summer at their mother’s golf resort had sounded like a dream for exactly 3 seconds, until Mitchell remembered the…. Everything about his siblings. 

When he wasn’t pulling Sebastian away from flirting with all their guests and the entire staff, he was lecturing Scarlett and Drew about taking advantage of the concierge service, making sure Stefan and Valentina weren’t spending too much time in the sun and were definitely drinking virgin cocktails, reigning in Lacey and Sophia’s pranks, and making sure Sabrina was happy in her first summer enrolled in the youth program. Oh, and he was choreographing a major number for the end of summer talent show. So. Full plate. 

Still, it was nice he had convinced Will to come along for the summer. While he was one of Mitchell’s official guests, he had quickly befriended the entire young staff in the kitchens and by the poolside. More than often, when they were on their walks around the resort, Will would no doubt be called out to or greeted by grinning teens in red and white polos. 

Mitchell, used to his friend’s sunflower attraction toward attention, smiled knowingly and let it happen without a complaint. At least Will was enjoying himself--he’d been way too stressed about his pre-med program the last few months and, with Mitchell spending most of his time at the resort trying to rein in his power-drunk sibling, he was glad his friend wasn’t spending the summer alone at the poolside. 

Of course, with all his new acquaintances, that also meant that Will’s tendency to interfere with Mitchell’s personal relationships appeared. 

“I’m telling you, you need to hang out with friends more, you’ve been busy all summer!” Will was smiling brightly. “This is the perfect opportunity!” 

“Yes, the perfect opportunity to intrude on a social gathering!” Mitchell protested, “It’ll be weird if I go. You should just go and have fun, don’t worry about me.” Mitchell sighed, “I don’t want them to be uncomfortable! This is their down time, I don’t want to ruin it by being the boss’s kid.” 

Will rolled his eyes, “It’s a baseball game, Mitchell.” 

Mitchell shook his head, final. “Sorry. But I don’t think so. Text me afterward, okay? We can grab ice cream.” Will said nothing. He peeked a look back to the other boy, “Unless there’s something else?” 

Will sighed and looked off to the side as his cheeks colored. “Okay, listen, of course I really want you there because you’re my best friend and everything but also -” 

“There’s a guy.” Mitchell guessed, bored. Will found the love of his life at least once a week. “Who is he?”

Will didn’t even put up a fight. “I’m not sure if you know him. He works in the coffee shop? Pale, dark hair, sharpest cheekbones I’ve ever seen?”

Mitchell thought for a second, “Nico?” He guessed. Nico, for the past few months, has consistently served him the best caramel macchiato he’d ever had every morning. Mitchell dreamt about that drink, on especially good nights.  

Will melted into a dreamy mess. “Yeah. Nico.” 

Mitchell blew a puff of hair up into the hair around his face, “I mean…” He grimaced, “If you need a wingman or something -”

“Yes!” Will was already celebrating, “Thank the gods, thank you! I mean, I think you’ll enjoy yourself at the game and everyone’s really cool, but yes! Okay, if you could just like, set up a really good opportunity for me and Nico to be together like, alone, I’d so appreciate it -” 

Will continued to ramble about the perfect situation Mitchell could set up, including the ideal mood lighting, when Mitchell interrupted him.

"Is Percy okay?" Percy had just rushed by, looking upset, and hopped in his mother’s car without a word to either of them--odd, as he usually offered at least a hey guys! If not a full on conversation that left Mitchell feeling like a better person for having it. It was kind of his thing. 

"Oh, he's in turmoil because he feels like he has to choose between swimming or singing with Annabeth at the talent show and he doesn’t know which to choose." 

“Oh.” 

Will wrinkled his nose, “Yeah, he’s kinda got his own thing going on right now. I saw him dancing by himself in the golf course earlier, but I thought I’d just give him some space.”

“Smart,” Mitchell commented, growing a bit uneasy as they approached the field. There was a crowd already assembled there with a smaller circle throwing a baseball back and forth. As they approached, a few people called out to Will in excitement but it wasn’t until they were faced with a smaller inner group of people that Mitchell was addressed. 

A tall, smirking guy with wild curls was the first to greet him, lightly tossing a baseball into his own mit as he spoke. “Brought a friend, Will?” 

Will smiled brightly. “Yeah! This is Mitchell.”

“Trust me, I know who Mitchell is.” His humor-filled gaze flickered to Mitchell himself. “Nice to finally meet you.” 

Mitchell’s cheeks heated. “You know me?” 

Travis let out a small disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Travis elbowed the guy at his side, who shared similar curls and features. “And this is my brother, Connor.” 

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Mitchell held out his hand with a smile. “I’m Mitchell. You’re on the staff, here?” 

Despite the incredibly stupid question Mitchell just asked considering Connor’s bright red LIFEGUARD tank top he still wore, Connor was kind enough to nod along with Mitchell’s obvious question, his eyes wide. Mitchell’s hand, still extended out to him, wobbled in the air. 

He was a second away from dropping his arm and shaking it off completely when Connor seemed to realize that he was waiting for a handshake in the first place and nearly dived for it. In his haste, he almost completely tripped over himself and onto Mitchell. 

“Oh, well,” Mitchell caught him before he could take them both down on the dirt field. “Are you okay? Is it too hot or something?” Connor’s face was strangely pale compared to his brother’s, despite the mid-afternoon summer sun. Mitchell resisted the urge to reach out and touch his skin for sun stroke. 

“So hot,” Connor whispered, in his arms. Mitchell stared down at him in concern.

A girl--Katie, maybe--came up beside him and physically took Connor out of his arms, a tight smile on her lips. “This is nothing, he’s just dehydrated.”

“More like thirsty.” A girl across from them muttered.

Katie continued on like no one said anything. “Let’s get some water in you, dude.” 

Will was smiling on like this interaction was completely normal. “So anyway I was wondering if Mitchell could join our game?” 

“Hmm, well this is an employee-only game.” Despite his words, the light tease in Travis’s voice kept Mitchell from getting nervous about the whole situation. “But it does raise the stakes.” 

That Mitchell could work with. His lips stretched out into a wide grin. “Yeah? What were you thinking?” 

Travis clicked his tongue, “How do you feel about being Captain? I take one team, you take the other.”

He thought it over then nodded. “That sounds fair. What’s the prize?” 

Travis shrugged, messing with the baseball in his mit as he spoke. “Any ideas?” 

Mitchell pretended to think, already knowing what he wanted. With a group this size, his choreo could really expand into something great. “If you lose, you guys have to join my dance group for the talent show.” 

“Hmm,” Travis looked to the girl at his side--Phoebe, he thought, another lifeguard. She once helped him with Sabrina’s floaties. “We’ll consider that. Guys?” The circle of employees gathered a bit closer to talk it over. Will shot him an excited look. 

Suddenly, in the midst of their talking it over, Connor burst from the huddle and pushed his way over to Mitchell. “I’ll give you fifty dollars if you let me on your dance team.” 

“Wait, no -” Travis grabbed his shoulders from behind to push him back, “Connor, we’re trying to negotiate with him!” 

“Oh,” Connor nodded seriously and turned back to where Mitchell was waiting, amused. “I’ll pay two hundred -” 

Katie slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him back to the crowd, him protesting all the way. Travis looked back to Mitchell, tired. “Just ignore him, please.”

Mitchell watched him sink back into the crowd, something small curled at his lips. “I don’t think I can.”

“Anyway,” Katie was the one to speak now. “We talked it over, that sounds fine. If we lose, we’ll be in your show.” 

Mitchell had to resist punching the air in excitement. “Great.” 

Travis leaned back with his arms crossed, looking him over. “And what do we get if we win?” 

“Well, what do you want?” 

“Dinner and a movie,” Connor choked out, almost like he didn’t mean to.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, “An catered employee afternoon in the movie theatre?” He thought it over, then shrugged. “I could probably arrange that.” 

Travis rubbed at his forehead, “I - sure. Yeah, that sounds fun.” 

“Alright,” Mitchell smiled with a small shrug of his shoulders. “I guess it’s game on, then.” 

...

Of course, against a batch of peers who had been playing baseball all summer, Mitchell was bound to lose. However, they didn’t lose as hard as he expected. 

After the match, when Mitchell was left aching from the game and loss but proud despite it, Will sunk down next to him at the picnic table. “Good game. I didn’t think you’d get so into it.” 

At the last moment, Mitchell had ended up diving for a ball, completely dirting up his outfit. He had caught it, and it had counted, but two players had already made it home in the meantime. Still, it was a close loss. 

Mitchell smiled slightly. “Me neither. But it was worth a shot at a full dance group.”

Will laughed softly, “Still. Great catch.” 

“It really was.” They both looked up at the new voice--Katie, from before. She’d been on Travis’s team with Connor, Jason, Leo, Annabeth and a few others. The rest of the group was mostly dispersed by now, most of them arranging rides home or plans to grab food. “We haven’t had a game that fun in a while.” 

At her arrival, Will stood and offered her his seat. Which was kind, but also definitely just a ploy to escape and run off wherever Nico was lurking. Mitchell waved him off with a roll of his eyes before returning back to the conversation. Katie took his place without a word. 

“Well, I’m happy to help. It was a good time, you guys work well together.” Mitchell shot her a knowing grin. “I’ll start working out the theatre rental. Any movie requests?” 

She shrugged, “We can take a vote on it. But we’ve also been talking.” Katie had an amused twinkle in her eye. “We’re in. We’ll still do your show, it sounds fun.” 

Mitchell sat up completely, a bolt of excitement hitting him. “Wait, really?” At her nod, he absolutely lit up. “Oh my god, it’s gonna be such a fun show, I promise!” He got to his feet in excitement and threw his arms around her shoulders in a hug, pulling away promptly. “Oh my god, wait, I’m covered in dirt I’m so sorry -” 

She waved it off but stood herself. She, too, was covered in dirt from the game so didn’t seem to care much at any additional. 

He couldn’t help but babble on. “It’s going to be so much fun. You won’t regret it.”

She smiled at him, looking like she was indulging him. “I know. Anyway, just a moment,” She disappeared for a few moments only to return, dragging Connor by the wrist. She pushed him toward Mitchell, almost bumping them into each other. “Connor will be your contact point for organizing this. Trade numbers, will you? For planning.”

“Oh, sure!” Mitchell fumbled to get his phone out and hand it over. Connor’s phone appeared under his hand faster than he thought possible. 

Katie left them alone as he punched in his own phone and name, drifting back to where Travis and a few others were waiting. He handed back Connor’s phone, suddenly closer to the other boy than he had realized. He paused. 

“You have grass in your hair.” Connor breathed out. 

“Oh,” Mitchell dipped his head in embarrassment and rubbed at his head. “Oops.” 

“I -” Connor gestured to his own temple. “Other side?” 

He tried but Connor only stepped forward slightly into his space, reaching out slowly. “Let me -” Mitchell felt a slight pull on his hair, not painful. Connor pulled away with a blade of grass in between two fingers. 

“Got it,” Connor said weakly, staring down at him. 

“My hero,” Mitchell teased. Connor nodded gravely at that, like he was accepting a mission.

Connor licked his lips before he spoke. “That was a really good catch. You’re a good player.” 

“Baseball’s just a dance of its own.” Mitchell shrugged, joking. “What can I say? I’m just that much of a star athlete.” Connor nodded, looking like he completely agreed. 

Before either of them could say anything further, Will called out to him and ran their way, grinning, with another guy at his side. “I heard the news! They’re still doing the show, that’s great!” Will was glowing, “See, coming to this was a great idea!” 

Mitchell stuck out his tongue, “You just wanted to brag that you were right.” 

“No!” Will looked behind where he had ran from and lit up, “Actually, I wanted to introduce you to Nico!” 

Nico, who trailed after him a few steps, walked up beside Will with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Mitchell liked him already. “Next time you’re going to run off mid-conversation, can you at least give me a warning first? I’ll die before I jog after you in jeans.” 

“You’re the one who wore jeans to a baseball game!” 

“And why not? You think I’m gonna participate in this?” 

“Well, you’re an employee at an employee baseball game. Perhaps I thought you were going to play.” 

“Where would you get that idea? Have you not seen the everything about me?” 

“Hi, I’m Mitchell.” He stuck out his hand with a grin. He could sit here all day, truly, but he did have things to do. “You’re Nico?” 

“That’s me.” He raised an eyebrow. “You look familiar.

“Mitchell is one of Aphrodite’s kids. He’s a good one, don’t worry.” Will explained, shooting Mitchell a wince like he didn’t know exactly how his siblings were. 

Mitchell snorted, “On behalf of Drew and Scarlett, I can’t apologize enough.” 

“That… helps.” Nico winced. “I messed up Drew’s chai latte my first day on the job.” 

Mitchell groaned, “Again, I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to get them to act like, you know, normal people -” 

Nico cut him off. “We work at a golf club. I get more cranky boomers in an hour than an AARP meeting.” Nico shook his head, “They’re a lot, but definitely not the worst customers to have. At least they tip well.” 

He could have wilted in relief. Across from him, Will’s eyes were nearly hearts. God, he was already lovesick. 

Which reminded him --

“Actually, Connor and I were just leaving. We’ll leave you two be.” Mitchell lightly grabbed Connor’s elbow to start steering him away. “Will, can you get a ride home? I’m probably going to be staying late.” 

Next to him, Nico perked up. “Oh, I can give you a ride? If you want? I’ll have to pick up my older sister but, um, it’s not that out of the way -” 

“I would love to.” Will looked perfectly composed, despite the screaming excitement that must be running through his head. He even managed to grab onto Nico’s hand as he led them away toward the parking lot. 

“Young love,” Mitchell commented, shaking his head fondly as the other couple walked off. “Must be nice.” He stepped back and dropped his hand from Connor’s elbow. “Oh, sorry!” He laughed lightly. “Sorry, I was recruited as Will’s wingman and I wanted to give them some time alone. Cute, right?”

Connor’s throat bobbled. “So cute. Um,” Connor made a jerky movement, like he was gonna run his hand through his hair but decided not to. “So you’re, uh, staying late?” 

“Yeah,” He blew some air up into the hair hanging over his face. “If you guys are gonna join the number, I want to have the choreo adjusted for a group before we start rehearsals.” 

“Cool, cool.” Connor nodded slowly, “Cool.” 

Now that he was closer, Mitchell could almost recognize Connor from his many shifts poolside. His lifeguard chair was almost right across from where Valentina would occasionally drag him to tan in the afternoon sun. Didn’t he once help Mitchell apply sunscreen, when Valentina ran to get slushies right when he was reapplying? 

His hands were cold, Mitchell remembered, or maybe his own skin was just that hot. He shivered when Connor applied the first handful of cream on his back. Mitchell had to advise Connor to take some of the sunscreen himself, after his own skin started to stain red. 

He was kind, was the point. Or at least, that’s what Mitchell remembered. 

Mitchell gestured at his parked golf cart as they approached it. “You want a ride anywhere? I’m heading toward the main pavilion.” 

Something wobbled in Connor’s expression before he spoke. “I could, um, go with you?” He said it as a question, looking slightly nervous as he spoke. 

“Yeah, sure! The employee entrance? Did you forget something?” 

“No, no, like -” Connor made another awkward gesture toward nothing. “Like, if you need help with the number? I could come? I mean, it’s never too early to get started on learning the dance, right?” 

Mitchell smiled, “Oh, sure! Do you have experience with dance routines?” 

Connor nodded confidently. “Yes.” 

“Really?” Mitchell turned to him in excitement. “Have you been in any dance groups before?” 

“Um. No.” 

“Oh, so like private lessons or something? A club?”

“Uh. No again.” His confidence was fully wavering now. 

Mitchell raised his eyebrows, “So what experience do you have?” 

“I sometimes dance in my room?” Connor scratched at the back of his head. “I, um. I didn’t think you’d ask many questions, actually.” 

Despite his awkwardness, Mitchell was… charmed by Connor’s fumbling. 

“Um,” Mitchell bit his smiling lip, looking away then back. “Actually, I was supposed to get ice cream with Will after the game.”

Connor deflated before he could finish. “Oh. Okay, yeah.” 

“No!” Mitchell was quick to correct. “I meant like, with Will going off with Nico, I still want to get it. With you. If that’s okay?” 

Connor’s expression bloomed into something so joyful, Mitchell was almost taken back. “I would… adore that.” 

“Adore?” Mitchell couldn’t help but tease. “Why’s that?” 

“I just,” He turned to Mitchell, his eyes wide. “I just really, really like ice cream.”

Mitchell bit his lip, “Me too. I mean, I really like ice cream. Ice cream is… sweet.”

Connor huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah. I, uh, agree.” He made an awkward little motion with his arm at the golf cart. “Um, shall we go?” 

Mitchell stepped forward and looped his arm with Connor’s. “Actually, I thought we could walk?” 

“I will do literally anything you want.” 

Mitchell laughed, “I’ll hold you to that.” 

To Mitchell’s amusement, Connor’s face turned a dark, dark red. He looked away, his lips pressed together in a small excited smile. Perhaps the baseball game hasn’t been such a bad idea.

#conchell #connor stoll #mitchell #my fic #rosy writes

[renaxwrites]

Eleven

.07 - Night Changes 

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: none!

masterlist: here :)

a/n: hello again! it’s been a minute, and I haven’t been posting as much due to spending most of my spare time keeping informed on everything going onion world. it really has been stressful and overwhelming at times, I’ll be honest. however, if ANY of you need anyone to talk to or rant, don’t hesitate to message me! the best thing we can do is support one another as human beings. sorry if this chapter is long btw, lol. hope you enjoy <3 (English will be in bold) (here’s a link to the song in this chapter)

previous || next

Moon is lighting up her skin. She's falling, doesn't even know it yet. 

Tsukishima was the most difficult person you’ve ever tried to read. Silent but deadly. It was the things he wouldn’t say that would leave you both curious and afraid all at once. 

Yet you were falling deeper into his schemes. 

You weren’t sure what to make of your short, yet intimate, moment with the boy. And it wasn’t helping that the number Eleven kept conveniently popping up more often, as if trying to send you signs about the situation. Tsukishima, being the wild card that he is, wasn't helping either. However, as time went on, you began to learn to read between the lines of his behavior. 

At home, there would be light brushing on shoulders. Stray hairs being tucked into the back of your ear. The way he can’t seem to look you in the eye when he acknowledges the quality of your photos every so often.

At school, it was just like nothing happened between you two. However, even though he kept up his salty demeanor, the others could tell there was a smidge of a soft spot reserved for you. 

As the trip to Tokyo was getting closer, the team started to kick their practices into high gear. You had decided change your photography time of the boys a bit shorter than normal from then on, so you can help out Yachi and Kiyoko. 

The boys were on their break, and many of them went outside to indulge in some energy drinks being passed out. You sit on the sideline and begin to zone out, not noticing Suga saunter over and plop down next to you. 

“Sounds like something’s troubling you. You alright?”

You turn to see a him offering a curious smile, with a light touch of concern. 

“Sound? Did I say something out loud? Aw man, that’s great,” you sigh, suddenly embarrassed.

Suga shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Thinking can just appear very loud at times. Wanna talk about it?”

You ponder for a quick moment, deciding it was safe to confide in the vice-captain. “Just...boy trouble. Basically the summary.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I can relate to you there,” he tips his head back and sighs. 

You flinch in disbelief. “What? You’re joking, right? And why would you be having trouble? I can’t believe it.”

He laughs. “Me either, sometimes. But yeah...”

There’s a beat of silence before he suggests, “I’ll share if you do. That is, if you’re comfortable. If not, totally understandable.”

“Actually, it would be nice to confide in someone with a different perspective. I mean, I love Yachi, but I don’t want to keep bombarding her with my guy troubles. So, sure,” you admit. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while for me too. So, go ahead.”

You explain the whole spiel with the number Eleven. You were careful when mentioning your family’s background. Although the conversation was light-hearted, you trusted Suga with your past, and were rewarded with comfort as he held your hand in support. He didn’t give you the familiar pity you usually got. Instead, he intently hung onto your every word. From the very beginning with your parents, to the linked pinkies with Tsukishima, Suga nodded along, waiting until you finished to offer his insight. 

Once you were done, you heave a big sigh. “Whew, that was a lot. Sorry for just dumping the whole shebang on you.”

“No need to be sorry, y/n-chan. I’m glad you trusted me. Now, regarding Tsukishima, I definitely can see something’s happening. Not just me, either, the whole team kinda figures he is feeling something about you that he doesn’t with others. But, now that you explained it, it makes perfect sense.” 

He places his hand on his chin in contemplation. “I totally feel how you do with not being able to ‘figure him out’. There are signs that I feel are really special with this guy, but then I overthink it, which then leads me to wonder if it’s simply signs of being nothing more than a friend, ya know?” 

You nod, “Exactly. Do you mind if I ask who it may be that’s leading you in circles?”

He chuckles. “Want to take a guess?”

You tap your lips, trying to recall any details he might have given. “Well, the only people I see you consistently hang out with outside of the club is the other thirds years. Definitely not Asahi. And you’re not pining for Kiyoko-chan like Nishinoya and Tanaka, so I’m assuming it have to be...Daichi?”

Suga playfully shoves his shoves his shoulder against yours. “Well look at you, big ol’ detective, you. Your first try. And yeah, it is.” He sighs. “At least that explains a lot that I’ve mentioned, huh?”

“Yeah. Seems like we’re both in a rut.”

You both laugh, then sit in a comfortable silence for a moment. 

He lights up. “What if...there was a way...to tell them how we felt...but without actually telling them?”

Confused, you look at him with furrowed brows and curious eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, next week the whole team and a few players from other schools are all going to get together at this little place downtown, just to have a ‘last hurrah’ before the tournament. Arcade games, karaoke, food bar, all kinds of fun stuff!” he starts to ramble about the place.

Gently cutting him off, you question, “But what exactly does this have to do with ‘confessing our feelings without actually confessing?’” You gesture little air quotes.

He goops your nose. “Did I not mention there was karaoke? Every year there’s a little tradition between everyone of having a karaoke session. Everyone has to sing at least once. Managers don’t have to, but there’s always exceptions!”

“So? Oh wait, don’t tell me...Suga noooo...”

“Suga yes.” he counters, knowing that you both know where this was going. “You and I will be up there together! Confessing without confessing! Is that a great plan or what?”

“Sure, Suga, but I don’t sing,” you try to worm your way out of his plan.

“Oh hush! Not everyone knows how to sing, but everyone knows how to karaoke. And besides, I’ve heard you sing before. You’re awesome! Those vocal chords could give an angel a run for their money.” he gives his blinding smile. 

You flush a deep red. “You’ve...heard me sing before? Where?! When?! HOW?”

He puts his hand up in defense. “It was outside the gym. A few days ago. You and Yachi were singing your favorite Ariana Grande song because you were both loudly trying to decide which album was better.”

You hide your head in your hands. “Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. Let me just launch myself into the face of the earth real quick.”

“Y/n-chan, you sing beautifully, there’s no need to be embarrassed. Suga takes your hands and makes you look up. “How about this. Today we were going to Ukai’s store to get some meat buns anyway. Let me walk with you and I’ll sing for you. I heard you sing, so you can hear me. We’ll be even that way. Okay?”

You consider it before agreeing. Once you said yes, Suga engulfs you in a hug, which you wholeheartedly reciprocate. 

“Alright, seems like the break is over. See you in a bit, y/n-chan!”

You break the hug just as the team walked back in the gym. A few people saw, but didn’t think much of it. 

The ones who did think of it were the two boys you and Suga just talked about. 

           ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The whole team was in spirits for the most part. Who wouldn’t be when Coach Ukai was treating them all to meat buns?

Most of the boys were following close to the coach, eager for their treat. Especially the freak-quick duo, who obviously felt like they needed to have a race to the store.

Most players were walking in their respective groups and pairs, but the you and Suga managed to fade to the back of the pack, almost unnoticed. You both decided to slow your pace, to widen the gap a little between you and the others.

“Well, I promised you a song. Which one should I do?” Suga asked. You remember that he heard you sing but don’t remember what song it was that day.

“Sing the one I did when you heard me that day?” you suggest.

He laughs and puts a hand on the back of his neck. “You were singing it in English, so I only understood a couple words...would you translate maybe?”

Suddenly you remember. “Oh! It was ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana. Some of it I could only do in English for some reason.”

Suga let’s out a noise of realization, forming a small ‘o’ with his lips. “I know that one! My classmate showed me that song, it’s really good! But I don’t remember much to be honest.”

Feeling a tad bit braver, you suggest you sing it together, you with what you know in English and him Japanese.

“Good idea! Then we can kinda see what we sound like together. Okay let me hey look up the song on my phone...”

By this point, the team was way ahead, so it was assumed they wouldn’t hear you two. You both designate your respected parts to be organized in the vocals. Once you thought it was safe, the audio starts.

Suga begins the first verse.

“The sun is setting, and your right here by my side...And the movie is playing, but we won’t be watching tonight...”

To say he sang beautifully was an understatement. His voice was velvet, light feather tips tickling your eardrums. The soothing tones of his voice washed all your fear away, giving you the courage to continue with your verse.

“Every look, every touch, make me want to give you my heart. I be crushin’ on you baby, stay right where you are...”

Once you started, he eyes sparkled with wonder. Seeing his reaction be full of awe encouraged you to keep going.

“Cause I never knew, I never knew... You could hold moonlight on your hands, till the night I held you...”

Suga joins in to harmonize as you hold out: “You are my moonlight...Moonlight...”

The song eventually ends. Just in time for you two to arrive at Ukai’s store, where the rest of the team was already chowin down on there snacks.

You and Suga flatter each other with praise, with you even throwing in a pun of how his voice was like ‘suga’.

Your loud compliment-competition caught the eyes of the teammates.

“Well, that’s new,” Daichi states before biting into his meatbun.

The second-years, first-years, and Asahi glance over to the two of you intensely conversate.

“Do you think something’s up?” Asahi suggests.

“I’m not sure. It’s not bad, I’ve just never seen them talk one-on-one, so it’s surprising to see them together like that, that’s all.”

“You don’t think y/n-chan and Suga-senpai...like...like each other. Do you?” innocent and naive Hinata says.

Nishinoya and Tanaka immediately go on defense mode. “Not our precious manager!! She must not be tainted with the sins of men!! We must protect her at all costs!!”

A big sigh is heard, and the boys turn to the culprit, only to find Kiyoko and Yachi look exasperated.

“They’re not into each other. Just because they’re having a conversation about something they’re both passionate about doesn’t immediately assume that they’re into each other,” Kitoko shakes her head, causing them to second-guess their assumptions.

Yachi also shares her piece. “Boys. So gullible.”

“Agreed.”

The two girls turn and head home, leaving the boys to reconsider their assumptions.

“Probably not that big of a deal.” “Yeah she’s right, what’s the harm.” “Eh.”

Tsukishima, although he didn’t offer any comments, only showed his thoughts when you two walked home. Short answers. Slightly colder silence than usual. Bidding you a short “‘Night” before going to bed, instead of his usual “Goodnight y/n”.

You were unsure at his sudden change in behavior, but once you tucked yourself in, you see that Suga sent you a text: “So, are you in on the plan?”

The time on your phone changed to Eleven o’clock.

“Let’s do it.”

Does it ever drive you crazy...Just how fast the night changes?

taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0 @fandoms-on-main @smellybananaz @keikink @tsukiak4ri @skyguy-peach

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukshima x reader #tsukishimaimagine #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #eleven #renaimagines

[zahneundklauen-retired]

The Only Thing To Fear Is Fog Itself || Rio and Alcher

TIMING: Current PARTIIES: @3starsquinn and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: A hunter and a wolf’s worst nightmares collide.  CONTENT: Death mention, PTSD, Blood, Slight gore

With the fishy smell hanging in the air, and with the strange things happening around town, Alcher was prepped to head into her woods and see what she could discover. Following her nose would be easy enough-- the foul smell that hung in the air seemed to be everywhere, but it got stronger the farther she waded into the woods. It became almost overwhelming. Her heightened sense of smell often benefited her, but it sometimes became too much. Her vision had been fading fast the past few years, but she was still capable of seeing enough. So when her line of sight became ragged and blurred, she knew something was up. She hadn't’ been walking long, but as she did, the fog became thicker and thicker. This was not normal. These trees shared their lands with the Canadian wilds, and Alcher knew those better than anyone here, she supposed. Perhaps most in Canada as well. Fog like this was not natural. There was not enough moisture, not enough bodies of water to produce it. She paused.

A twig snapped.

Alcher’s head turned quickly in the direction of it. Laughter reached her ears next. She watched a shadowed form race by in the fog, disappearing quickly. “Wait!” Alcher called out, following after. “Are you lost?” who was out here? They were familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. “Come back!” the laughter came from her left this time. Alcher paused, confused. “Hey!” she called out, this time in her native tongue. Hurried along down the path, as fast as her still healing leg would carry her. “Wait, where are yo--” But in the next moment, from out of the fog, came another form. A solid one, and she collided with it, hard. Her powerful stance kept her standing, but the other went tumbling. Alcher rubbed her chest where they collided and glared down at the very human smelling boy. “Who are you?”

Making poor decisions seemed to be a common occurrence for Orion now. Coupled with his affinity for hearing strange noises in the woods and investigating them, it was a miracle that Rio hadn’t ended up dead yet. Despite his seemingly unwavering fascination with them, Rio hated these woods. He had avoided them for the majority of his life. Only finally venturing into them once he had to in order to get to the Scribrary. The town was deadly enough, the woods even more so. Knowing what he knew about the supernatural, Rio could only imagine what all lurked in those woods. And what lost souls haunted it. The thought sent tingles down his spine. Yet despite all of these logical concerns and fears that should have sent him running away from the place, his hearing picked up on something out in the distance. If it was someone in trouble, Rio couldn’t just ignore that.

He was full of self doubt and regret. That only multiplied once the fog started filling the area. It had come out of seemingly nowhere, enveloping Rio from all directions quickly and thickening just as fast. Something was definitely wrong here. His hearing went haywire, picking up on subtle sounds and hushed voices. Rio was trembling, walking as lightly as he could as to not attract too much attention from whatever or whoever was causing this. His mind began racing, combing through hundreds of thousands of text as his mind tried to remember anything about a supernatural fog. But nothing came to mind right away, and his focus scattered immediately when he collided with something alive.

Rio fell to the ground screaming, the sudden company taking him more than a little bit by surprise. His elbows caught his fall, jamming against the ground and used to push himself away from the potential threat. When Rio’s heart rate stopped racing Rio realized that the person standing above him, a woman that Rio did not quite recognize, had asked him a question. “Oh uh right. Me. I’m me. I mean I’m Rio.” He jumbled his words before finally answering her and working to climb back up on his feet. “Sorry I scare easily. Clearly. You happen to have any idea what is going on here?” His fear at the sudden appearance had almost disguised the more than familiar tingling sensation that ran across his body. But eventually he realized that this was just like how he felt around Ariana or Layla. He slyly glanced around them. If these two were the only ones here, it was safe to assume that this woman was a werewolf. 

The human was so...small. Alcher knew that most humans were feeble, but the one she’d run into looked somehow smaller than most. He was scrunched in on himself, as if he were afraid of the very air that others breathed around him. It was pathetic. Her brow scrunched together and she moved around him, ignoring his question for the moment. The air still smelled of must and condensation and fish. She recoiled. “None,” she finally answered, looking back to him. “How did you get out here? Did you follow someone? Did you see anyone else?” Because she was certain she had seen someone. Her eyesight might have been failing her, but she knew, without a doubt, someone else was out here with them. Or, perhaps...something else. Moving away from the human, she closed her eyes, listening again. Only to be interrupted by his footsteps and scrambling to stand. Irritated, she turned back on him. “Quiet,” she hissed, “we are not alone.”

Okay, so the woman wasn’t the friendliest person that he had ever met. Though considering the situation, Orion could give her a pass for not being eager for conversation. She began asking him questions, too many at once for him to answer coherently. His words felt jumbled, his tongue still caught from the stress and fear of the situation. “Uh- I heard a noise in the woods. And I was worried someone may be lost or in trouble so I came. But then this weird fog started building and-” He was cut off from talking soon after, the woman’s voice curt and demanding. It instantly silenced him, despite not understanding why he was being shut up since she had asked him the questions. Still, he obeyed and she informed him that the two weren’t alone here apparently. Rio had just assumed the noises he had heard had come from her and that the fear of being stalked was now gone. But as Rio tried to stare in the direction that she was looking, a shadow passed by in his peripheral vision. His hunter instincts kicked in quickly, his body jumping back onto his feet in a quiet flash. Far more efficient than he had been able to without the adrenaline rush. His senses were going haywire, picking up on every little sound or change in vision. He couldn’t tell if it was paranoia or if there were actually things happening all around them. “We should probably go right? Like we need to go.”

There it was again, that laughter. Alcher stiffened, but the boy kept moving. Kept jumping around. Kept talking. She swivelled on her heels again, glowering at him. “Will you be quie--” but her voice was cut off when she saw a familiar shadow. “Kleine schewster,” said the familiar voice. There was a familiar smell. But how? Alcher pushed the boy aside, ignoring him again. She headed straight into the fog, where the voice had come from. She didn’t even notice the world going dark around her, the multitude of eyes springing up around them, as if formed by the fog itself. The sound of her footsteps almost disappeared, to the human ear, she wasn’t even there. Fog circled her legs, swallowing her feet. “Klaus?” she called out tentatively. “Klaus, sind sie das?”

Orion was definitely being ignored. Whether that was from the stress of the situation or the woman was just not very talkative, Rio couldn’t be sure. But whatever the case, Rio definitely got the feeling that he was talking too much. It was all but confirmed when the woman turned on him suddenly and began trying to shut him up. But instead she was distracted by something that seemed to catch her attention, but Rio spun around and didn’t catch anything himself. Suddenly the woman was off, her movements swift and quiet. Rio followed along as best he could, figuring despite her less than warm welcome the two might be better off to stick together. Suddenly, the woman was calling out a name. Someone that she was looking for out in the woods? Was it what had grabbed her attention? He hadn’t seen anything. German wasn’t one of Rio’s stronger languages, but her phrase was simple enough to pick up on. “Is that who?” Rio found himself asking despite her willingness to ignore him and apparent annoyance by the sound of his voice, “You’re looking for someone named Klaus?” Rio sighed, still picking up nothing that suggested another person being around here. But he felt a sudden chill against the back of his neck as if something had rubbed up against him and his entire body tenses. He waited too long before finally spinning around, finding nothing but thick fog behind him. In the distance, he heard what sounded like a woman screaming, but it felt so far away. What the heck was going on?

“Don’t say his name!” Alcher snapped, turning on the boy again. He looked so small and frightened. Another laugh through the fog made Alcher turn away from him quickly, looking into the fog. “Klaus! It’s me!” she called out again, stumbling forward. Fog closed in behind her and when she turned to look back, the boy was gone. Blinking, Alcher felt a chill run up her back. Someone was watching her. She felt the hair on her arms bristle and her muscles tensed. “Who’s there!?” she growled quietly, reaching down slowly for the iron knife she’d claimed as her prize for killing that hunter. The one with the fae child. While she loathed human weapons, knives came in handy. Especially when she knew changing would be a bad idea. With someone watching her, they were bound to see. She turned in a circle, but nothing. Dark figures danced just outside of her peripheral vision as she did, but-- nothing. “Show yourself!” she shouted. “Cowards!” Another twig snapped. Alcher swerved on her feet. The knife was flying through the air. 

It thudded into a tree next to the human boy’s head.

The noises were overwhelming. Orion couldn’t even tell what they were. His own fears were drowned out by the woman’s anger. A vehement insistence to not say Klaus’ name. Whoever he was, things must not have ended well. The screaming grew, both from the woman he could see and the voices from outside the fog. She seemed to hear a familiar voice, someone that she recognized immediately. So what was Rio hearing? Why did he get these agonizing cries for help instead? Rio covered his ears, but it did little to drown out the cries. Rio backed away, tripping over something and falling backwards into a tree. A glint of light and the whistling sound of metal was the only warning Rio had to push himself off of the tree, a knife just barely missing his head. Rio glanced towards the woman in shock. He grabbed ahold of the knife and ran his thumb across it. Iron. What would a werewolf be doing with a knife made of pure iron? “Listen I don’t know what you’re hearing or what- that was,” Rio began, his voice still shaking from nearly being impaled, “But this fog isn’t normal. Something’s wrong: we need to find a way out.”

Alcher went to grab the knife from the tree, but another hand grabbed hers. It was charred to a crisp. Melted skin clinging to muscle and bone. Alcher knew whose hand it was before she even looked up. “Why did you leave us, Al?” Klaus asked her. “You killed us.” Alcher screamed, yanking her hand away. Went to shove him as well, but he was gone. She stumbled back, looked at the boy. “What-- did you do that?” she rounded on him, a fist digging into his shirt. Teeth clenched. “Tell me now, boy! Are these your tricks, witch?” she growled, raising a fist to him-- but another voice caught her attention. She dropped the boy and looked around wildly again. This time, she came face to face with someone she hadn’t thought about in a long time. “You killed me, Alcher,” came her old mate’s voice. He was standing just beyond her reach, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his neck. The wound she’d given him. “I loved you,” he said and blood dribbled from his mouth onto the ground, “I thought you loved me, too.” Alcher lashed out, expecting the apparition to disappear again-- but this time, her hand hit something solid and she heard a crunch as her fist went through his chest. White smoke curled around her arm, pouring from his wound. She looked up at him, horrified. “Your turn,” he said, and reached up to grab her.

The screaming was growing louder, a mixture of voices that Orion could finally pick out the louder that it grew to him. One by one, the voices switched in and out. Blanche. Winston. Ariana. Athena. The list went on. They were guttural screams, tragic and blood curdling. It was the sound of them dying, as if something was hacking away at them at that very moment while Rio could do nothing by crushing his ears between his palms in a futile attempt to drown out the sound. The screaming broke when Rio was suddenly grabbed and lifting him from the ground. The woman with him was furious. Clearly blaming whatever was happening on him. But her grabbing him had broken the sound of the screams and cries from earlier at least. That had been the minimal good news in the sea of bad. “I didn’t- I’m not-” Rio began, but how could he prove he wasn’t a witch? Especially when what he actually was was so much worse. “I don’t know what’s happening either! I-” He was suddenly dropped onto the ground as the woman spun. There was a vision, one that Rio could clearly see. A man on the brink of death as it looked, with a nasty neck wound. She was moving towards him. Slowly, but surely. “Hey! Don’t do that!” Rio tried to call, but his voice must not be breaking through. He picked up the knife that the woman had thrown at him minutes ago and pulled himself up. If her grabbing him could break the illusion, then Rio could do something to help her, right? He ran up behind her, just as the illusion was reaching towards her and swung the knife at the illusion, disrupting the figure into smoke and then using his free hand to shake the woman, “We need to go. Please!”

The apparition disappeared with the swipe of a blade. Alcher reeled back. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been real, he’d felt real. She pressed her palms to her eyes, staggering in her spot. She felt pain shoot up her leg again as she applied too much pressure to the broken one. The boy was yelling at her to do something. She wrenched her hands away and looked down at him, and for a moment, all she saw was Klaus. He was a young boy again, looking up at her. And then slowly, his flesh began to melt away, dripping from his skeleton. Alcher screamed and hurled the boy away, toppling to the forest floor herself. Fog curled up around her and it felt heavy somehow. It pressed into her and stung at her skin, as if it were alive. Slowly, it began to consume her body. She pressed against the ground with all her might, but it felt like there was simply a weighted blanket thrown on top her. “Help me!” she called out desperately. She could hear Klaus’s voice, telling her to run. Telling her to hide. In the chimney, he’d said. You’ll be safe from the fire there. Don’t come out until everyone’s gone. “I’m sorry!” she cried out, feeling her body begin to shake. “Klaus! I’m sorry! You told me to run! You told me to save myself! I wanted to come back for you!” sobs wracking her throat as she gave in to the nightmare the fog was drowning her in. “I wanted to come back for you but I was a coward!”

It was the pain. Orion had figured that much out. This fog was messing with their heads. It wasn’t just normal fog. It had magic to it. Something sentient and something sinister. It wasn’t just dredging up visions, it was targeting them. For the woman it seemed to be pulling a very specific memory. For Rio it was the people closest to him dying. The sinking feeling that he was responsible for it. It was torturing them. Driving them into a further madness until one of them broke. Rio didn’t know what came after that, and he didn’t want to find out. But for Rio, the pain was enough to break the visions. He was reminded of that as the woman shoved him away again, the voices that kept closing in around him disappearing when Rio’s back collided with the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and he laid there for too long. The voices began seeping back in, but when Rio opened his eyes he found that the fog had taken it even further. Decayed bodies, vaguely resembling those that Rio cared about rested just within view of the fog. The flesh was rotting, a mixture of mud and blood caking the bodies and little more than ratted hair to distinguish between the figures. Rio instantly felt sick, the combination of the sight and voices too much. It only got worse when the neck of the figures began turning in unison, all slowly shifting until they were looking directly at Rio. With a gasp, Rio stopped breathing all together, hooking his palm over his mouth out of fear. Slowly, arms started to move, boney fingers digging into the soil and dragging them forward and towards Rio. Rio sat upwards, crawling backward to get away. His hands caught rocks and roots on his way, slowing his progress as the bodies slowly sped up and inched closer and closer to him. It was the pain. Rio reminded himself. He needed to focus on something else. Anything else. The figures were too close now, the former body of a blonde grabbed onto his ankle proving that he was out of time. He shoved his eyes shut and grabbed onto his finger, taking a deep breath before forcing the finger backwards. There was a sickening crunch followed by instantaneous pain. Rio cried out into his arm, trying to muffle his yelping in an attempt to calm the pain. But when Rio finally peaked an eye open, the figures were gone. And falling out of view, the woman was almost gone too. “No, no, no” Rio mumbled to himself over and over again, forcing himself up and towards the woman. If pain worked for him, maybe it could work for her too? He found her against the ground and Rio fell to his knees beside her. “I’m sorry,” He tried warning before pulling his hand back and slapping her with everything his hunter strength could muster.

Pain rippled through Alcher’s face as her head whipped to the side. Blood leaked from her mouth, the rich, iron taste filling her mouth. She had felt pain a lot in her life-- it was, in fact, a very large part of her life. Her father had used it both as a tool of punishment and as a tool of encouragement. Punishment when they misbehaved or went against pack custom. Encouragement when they pushed themselves to their brinks and learned from their mistakes. Pain was just a tool. Pain made someone stronger. But this pain, this pain that tore through her face and shook her to her core and woke her from the foggy nightmare, it was not the same. It was chilling. It made her body jerk and her mind topple and when she finally had the wherewithal to turn her head back to look at the boy, her eyes were filled with knowing. The strength with which he had struck her was not human. She did not hear his muttered apology and she did not care to. Hands reached up, grabbing onto the lapels of his shirt, fingers curling so tightly she felt her nails tear the cloth. Teeth cracking as they grew longer, sharper. Her uncontrollable anger manifesting, bringing the monster out. “Jäger!” she growled, trying to stand. But she found both her feet could not support her weight, her broken leg surging with pain and her prosthetic leg unable to grip the wet, forest floor. “You did this!” The fog began to unfurl around them, but she barely noticed.

For what it was worth, it mostly seemed like the slap had worked, though he had maybe put a bit too much force into it. When the woman looked back over at him, a bit dazed but unmistakably angry, Rio saw and smelled the blood. “Crap. I’m sorry I didn’t mean for that-” He was cut off again, a pretty common occurrence tonight, by the woman grabbing onto his shirt and pulling it tight. Against the tight grip, Rio was finding it hard to catch his breath. But the woman didn’t seem bothered by this. Her teeth were elongating, becoming sharper and more dangerous while Rio was completely immobile too close to them. “No! No. Uh- Nein.” Rio’s voice was hoarse but insistent, “I am not a hunter.” Not by trade at least. “I don't even have a weapon. And I didn’t do this. I’m seeing stuff just like you. But the pain helped me break free from it!” He held up his broken finger as proof, still cradling it with his other hand. “Something’s wrong with your leg. Are you okay?” Rio redirected his questioning, noticing the way that she was struggling to get back to her feet. 

Alcher didn’t know what to trust anymore. Her own senses were failing her, and her mind was reeling with questions. Slowly, she turned her head to gaze around. Looked at her hands gripping the boy’s shirt and saw-- blood? She pulled her hand away and opened it slowly. Red on her palm. She dropped him and began brushing leaves aside on the ground. And-- there. His blood. Cain’s blood, her old mate. Alcher swallowed. Or was it Klaus’s? She looked back at her hands and more blood stained them, covering her fingertips. Red and redder and more. Closed her eyes hard, concentrated on the pain, like the boy had said. She drew in a deep breath. “I cannot trust my eyes,” she said in a shaky tone, “if we are to make it out of this, I need you to guide me. I will be your shield, you will be my eyes.” With eyes still closed, she held out her hand to the boy. Hesitated, then said, “I will spare your life if you do this for me.” 

Perhaps the only thing that saved Orion from being gutted was another vision. The woman saw something on her hands, but Rio couldn’t see it himself. The fog, whatever was behind it, worked in mysterious ways. Sometimes the vision and noises manifested for both of them and sometimes it was specific. Either way, it was more than enough to strike fear in the hearts of anybody it seemed. “Guide you? I don’t know, I mean… I don’t know if my own eyes can be-” Rio cut off when Alcher finished her sentence, more or less giving the boy an ultimatum. Rio backtracked, “Oh right uh yes. Well I mean, with a deal like that I guess I really can’t say no, huh?” Against the dire situation, Rio found himself nervously laughing as he wondered whether the fog or this woman was more deadly. “Okay. You got it. Just grab onto my arm.” Rio met her hand and felt hers wrap tightly around his arm. Rio looked around, knowing that the fog couldn’t be trusted. He found a spot within the fog that seemed lighter than the others. A welcoming path that Rio decided the two should avoid at all costs. Instead, Rio faced the spot where it seemed thickest, where he could barely see inches in front of him and started towards it. It didn’t take long before the voices started again. This time they were closer than they had been before, seemingly coming from right next to him. The words were hostile this time, angry hisses and insults shouting into his ear and making Rio jump whenever they appeared. It was starting to feel like voices were solid objects, curling up around his body and enveloping him whole. “The voices are back.” Rio warned, trying to ignore them, “I can’t focus. I need you to tighten your grip. To keep me distracted.” 

“Ignore them,” Alcher snapped, as if it were as simple as that. As if she hadn’t fallen victim to this insidious fog herself. She complied in squeezing the boy’s arm tighter, nails digging in. “Focus on the pain,” she said, repeating her own father’s words. She could hear Klaus’s voice still calling in her ear. You let us die. She strained against it, bit her tongue, tasted the blood. She clenched harder. Focused harder. “Let the pain guide you, give you control.” As they walked, she listened, beyond Klaus’s voice, to her own footsteps, to the boy’s footsteps. Her the crunch of leaves, listened to the echo of their bodies. “Wait,” she said, stopping. Something ahead passed by them. She turned the boy in another direction. “That way. We’re close.” She could hear the edge of the forest beyond them, to where cars screamed on roads and metallic buzzing followed her everywhere. “Do not stop now.” 

The woman’s response was scary enough to force Orion to listen, even if the request was far easier said than done. But she complied with Rio’s request, for better or worse. The pressure on Rio’s arm tightened, squeezing tight enough to cut off the circulation. As the woman’s nail pressed against his skin, he was fairly sure they were cutting into it. Focus on the pain. He was all too familiar with that phrase. He had told himself that so many times over the years. Sometimes it was easier to focus on than his parents. The pain helped keep the visions at bay, but focusing too much on it took away from his other senses. Luckily, the woman noticed something for him, shifting his pace and changing their path. He kept going, the fog getting thicker and thicker until it looked like Rio was about to run face first into a completely solid object. “I hear noises.” Rio perked up, the faint sounds of cars whistling by enough to elicit a triumphant leap in Rio’s heart rate. He picked up his pace, pushing farther and farther forward into the unseeable until finally the fog began to dissipate around them, thinning out until Rio could finally make out trees again. “I think we’re towards the edge.” 

They kept walking, even as the fog parted and trees came back into vision. Alcher kept her eyes screwed shut, even as Klaus continued to whisper in her ear. She didn’t even notice the hot tears streaking down her face, despite how hard she’d screwed her eyes shut. When she heard the call of birds and the smell of dirt and wet leaves reached her nose, she finally, finally opened her eyes. They were out, but behind them, the fog seemed to be creeping its way toward them again. “Keep moving,” she said, but let go of her tight grip, dragging him along through the trees as she limped, painfully, against her broken leg, until they broke through the tree line and metal and tar joined the scent of the air. Panting, she let go of his arm and leaned against the fence post, gripping her chest hard. She did not look at the boy, shame wrought in her bones. She’d let a hunter help her, save her and her heart felt like solid plaster. After a long moment, she rasped out the word, “Leave,” and looked at him with sharp eyes from the side of her gaze, “leave before I change my mind about sparing you.”

Orion had never been so happy to get out of those woods. And that was actually saying something considering he had suffered more than his fair share of traumatic experiences out in this forest. But that fog was something else entirely. It had been sentient, feeding on their fears and insecurities in order to lead it deeper and deeper into its clutches. Rio had no idea what would have waited for them at the end. Would they have just wandered until their bodies came out? Or was there something even more sinister waiting in the fog waiting to catch its prey? Either way, Rio had no intentions on sticking around and risking the fog moving back towards them. The woman let his arm go and Rio held it gingerly, nursing the bruised and sore part from her tight grip. Blood had dried across his arm, dripping down from where she had dug her nails into his skin. “I’m not what you think I am.” Rio tried to defend himself, but it came out as more of a mumble than anything definite. Maybe it was because he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. Rio didn’t want to leave. He wanted to make sure she was okay and make sure she knew that he was different than whatever hunters she had experience with. But from the look on Rio’s face, he wasn’t sure that he could convince her that he was different. If he were to stay for too long and not take advantage of her offer, she may absolutely kill him. “I-” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead he crossed his arms, nursing the bruised one on top of the other and nodded, “Thanks.” 

“Leave,” Alcher said with finality. She sunk to a sit by the post, rubbing her leg as pain shot up and down her calf. She needed to soak in hot water and some epsom salt, get another salve on her leg. What she didn’t need, was to pander this hunter anymore. She ran her hands through her hair, didn’t acknowledge his thanks. Whatever had happened in that fog, it would stay between them. “Tell no one what happened here,” she said after a long moment, before he walked off. She waited for him to leave, made sure his scent was far off, before she hoisted herself back up on a shaking leg and let out a long sigh. The trek home would be long, but it was doable. She turned to head off-- but out of the corner of her eye, a figure leaned in and Klaus whispered in her ear, “Hello, little sister.” 

Yet when she turned, there was no one in sight. 

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: orion #the only thing to fear is fog itself #orion #tw death mention

[gordvendomewhore]

heyo this was supposed to be attached to a reblog of @schoolfullofmorons‘s post but it is so outrageously long and has taken several days and therefore is its own post now LMAO

because this is super long, everything is gonna be under the keep reading thingy teehee

anyway,,, i present to you: all nine preppies, and how they would act during quarantine 

(please note that these are just headcanons and honestly are pretty ooc considering the fact they’re all assholes who would protest quarantine with signs that say “WE WANT HAIRCUTS” but GOD i just wanna pretend they’re decent people for a day or two)

derby:

thinks the virus is a joke and would 100% protest quarantine, but still gets SUPER antsy and jumpy when anyone coughs or sneezes around him

wastes a bunch of water and half a bottle of soap washing his hands for ten minutes straight, but totally not because he’s scared or anything!! the virus still totally isn’t real!!!

since there’s only the household help he can boss around, derby gets bored and lonely pretty quickly, and misses feeling in control.

in attempts to fix this, he tends to call up bif or some of the other preps just to half heartedly yell at them about every little inconvenience that happens in his day to day life, but they’re really dismissive and say things like, “yes, yes, derby, whatever you say.”

(they all know derby is just expressing how he misses them in the only way he knows how.)

derby probably spends a bunch of time lounging around the house, watching the workers do their thing and thinking about how he’s sooooo much better and fancier and richer than them.

however,,,,,, he ends up watching them so often and so intently that the workers get confused and wonder if derby is interested in trying out what they do around the house (cleaning, cooking, gardening, etc.)

so they offer to teach derby, and of course, derby gets wildly upset and most likely threatens both their jobs and their lives haHa

it doesn’t stop him from watching just a tiny bit closer though, you know,,,, just to make sure that these paupers are doing everything to the harrington standard

derby pays off the teachers to keep his grades up and acknowledges school in absolutely no other way.

bif:

while bif is concerned about the virus, he doesn’t really care about school closing down.

school was never his main priority, but he’ll still make sure to tune into a couple of his online classes every week because of the sheer guilt that starts to pile up over time.

however he will NOT do anything with his assignments except read over them, and similar to derby, pays off a nerd to do his homework for him to make it seem like he’s actually doing something.

BUT you can totally bet that bif is one thousand percent upset over the boxing gym being closed down!!

he still has his personal gym in his mansion, which he now uses a lot (partially because he has so much time to kill, but also because he’s still butthurt over jimmy’s scrawny ass beating him)

but it’s not the same because now he can’t train with the other preps!!!!!

how will he know if they’re improving? or if they have the proper stance??? or if they’re swinging with the right force????? or if—

but yeah, bif makes sure to check up on the preps every once in awhile to see their boxing progress

he finds quarantine to be incredibly quiet and empty, in a literal and metaphorical sense.

he isn’t lonely per say, bif actually finds a lot of peace in the silence!

he gets a lot more time to think than he normally does and that’s a gift within itself.

...but his days are usually filled with never ending whining and the loud screaming of faux accents, so the sudden change feels strange, but not unwelcomed.

(plus he still has derby bothering him 24/7 so it’s not like much has changed anyway LMAO)

bif may not admit it out loud, but he misses his prep family clique members a whole lot. :(

gord:

this bitch couldn’t care less about the whole situation.

he spends his days at home binging every movie and tv show known to mankind, expanding on his beauty care regimen, and doing major amounts of online shopping; daddy’s card isn’t gonna just spend itself after all!

he’s actually clearing out the entire aquaberry stock as we speak.

gord is aware of the dangers of the virus, but hey, he’s not stepping a foot outside anytime soon, and he’s always been the hygienic type, so why stress over something out of his control?

this king is absolutely thriving, the outside world truly does not matter to him anymore.

(but did it ever?)

gord will admit that he misses his friends, but it’s not like he has no means of communication with them!

you can bet your ass that every single prep is being hit up with a selfie of gord‘s magnificent face every single day of the WEEK baybee.

gord would also be the time to experiment with new hobbies and activities, yknow like a bunch of random shit like knitting or wood carving just to say he’s actually done something during quarantine.

he’s also the type of person to get really obsessed with social media quarantine too LMAO he probably gained thousands of followers on twt or tiktok or some shit for thirst trapping

gord would 100% open an onlyfans too, but he doesn’t need the money

plus, the world already can’t handle him and he CANNOT be held responsible for the chaos that will ensue if he does more than mere thirst traps

with school, he skips out on the online classes for subjects he doesn’t take an interest in, but rigorously studies for the ones he does care about (especially if they’ll play a big part in law school!!!

tad:

oh poor baby, he’s stuck at home with his horrible excuse of a father.

tad, like the other preps, doesn’t care for school (“money gets you farther in life than education ever will,” derby harrington at some point), but that doesn’t stop him from sucking himself into his education.

he attends all his online classes, does all his homework, studies optional material, does extra credit, anything to keep his mind away and busy from his dad.

(idk what tad’s dad does for a living but let’s just pretend he’s an essential worker and is out of the house often because i do Not Want tad suffering more than he has to)

he’ll take lots of walks around the neighborhood, and spends a lot of time hanging in the park.

plus gord usually calls him every other day or so to keep him company and the two will just chill together and talk.

tad probably gets into some soft hobbies like keeping up a diary, sewing, painting, and maybe even slowly picks up baking again.

gord probably sent him a bunch of tiktoks of people making frog bread and tad knew in his heart that he needed to make frog bread too LMAO

tad is canonically the type of person that would bake for your bday, so he experiments around with cakes and sweet treats in general he thinks the other preps would like.

there’s an Entire Fridge in his house dedicated to his baked goods now. that’s how often tad bakes.

he also looks forward to the day he can see his friends again and plans out all the things they’ll do once they’re reunited.

the preps are more of a loving family than his real family ever was, and tad doesn’t plan to let that fact go by unnoticed in the future :))

parker:

he lowkey goes insane.

parker has no idea what to do with himself now that he’s stuck at home with his parents and sister.

don’t get him wrong, he really loves his family, and genuinely enjoys the family activities his mother forces them to bond over, but what else is there to do?

he’s bored.

plus, parker gets up in his head way too often, and now there’s nothing to distract him.

he never really had any particular hobbies, and you will never catch him doing school work (he pays off his teachers).

and even though being at school sucks because bullworth academy itself sucks, doing things with the other preps made parker forget about his lack self importance and direction in life.

it seems like the end of the world to him, more because of his life and schedule being interrupted rather than the virus itself.

when he’s not with his family, parker spends a lot of time lounging in the mansion’s garden with the garden gnomes, and talks to them pretty often too (we’ve all heard those voice lines LMAO).

parker talks about everything and anything with the gnomes, and allows himself to just rant about life.

and sure, he thinks people who talk themselves 24/7 are hella crazy, but hey!! the gnomes love to listen!!! so therefore parker isn’t crazy!!!!!

he probably ends up doing gardening as a small hobby, and he genuinely likes it!

...even if it does have him down in the dirt and covered in sweat amongst other filth.

parker’s one of the less pretentious preps, so i can see him putting his entitled behavior aside, even if it is only this one time and for this one thing.

after all, his money and status don’t exactly matter anymore; everyone’s busy caring about more dire matters.

after the initial boredom, i can see parker letting loose and maybe even becoming a more decent person while in quarantine.

bryce:

he is 24/7 anxious.

it’s not specifically because of the virus itself, or because of school closing down, but it’s just the whole situation in general that makes him nervous.

bryce is stuck at home with his mother and father, in what bryce likes to call their cozy mansion, but what derby likes to call their oversized blue collar cottage (which bryce finds dumb because his parents don’t even work blue collar jobs).

his father, even during these dire times, is still gambling and wasting their money away, so that just hella adds onto bryce’s anxiety about the situation.

golf & yacht (where bryce canonically works) closes down since it isn’t considered an essential business, and so bryce ends up losing his job.

he’s really desperate to find another place to work, and rightfully so!! he doesn’t want his family to be losing more money than they gain.

bryce probably ends up working somewhere a step above fast food (he isn’t that desperate), like a cafe, since some are still open and surprisingly busy.

because of this, most of his hours are spent split between working and sleeping, and bryce doesn’t exactly have time to think about anything else other than family and money issues (something he thought he’d never have to worry about).

but bryce hides his physical and mental exhaustion quite well, mostly so that his life proceeds without anyone wasting his time with questions of concern.

sometimes the preps that aren’t as judgmental as the others (tad, gord, parker, pinky, bif) will check up on him and even offer to lend his family some money, but bryce knows better than to accept donations of any kind.

he tries to attend the online classes that he can, and does a lot of his homework with tad.

chad:

put simply, chad is fine.

he wasn’t particularly shocked when the virus was reported to be spreading, or when school was closed down, or even when he had to say goodbye to his fellow preps and the harrington house, and leave to his home in old bullworth vale.

chad was never strongly effected by any of this, and honestly is just really relaxed.

chad’s relationship with his parents is quite well (despite their occasional nagging), and he has a lot of hobbies that filled up his time during school and still fill up his time now.

so unlike tad or gord, chad doesn’t go searching for new activities to keep him busy or give him a sense of meaning and accomplishment.

chad wakes up early in the morning, when the sun is still rising, spends his day playing with his dog, chester, jogging around the neighborhood or park, boxing in his home gym, talking with his family, attending his flute lessons (which are now online), and then he goes to sleep with a tired mind, yet a well rested soul.

the only thing he doesn’t do is his school work (he pays off his teachers like derby), but occasionally you’ll see him attend an online class or two.

he lives his life on a clean schedule, and enjoys the alone time he gets during these tough times.

there’s no significant change in how he goes by his days, and chad is perfectly content with that. :)

justin:

he’s vibing.

at the beginning of quarantine, justin probably spent a bunch of time laying in his $10,000 satin sheets, doing nothing but thinking about random shit ranging from whether or not his family should invest in a second jacuzzi, his raging insecurities, how big his muscles are, or if he’ll ever get a chance to talk to the ted thompson himself, but that all gets old REAL quick.

he’s the type of person to be like, “i’m too rich to be sulking around!” even though those two things don’t exactly correlate in this situation LMAO

(but oh well, justin is a prep after all, their whole personalities are based around money.)

similar to bif with his boxing, justin throws himself entirely into swimming!

his family owns an indoor and outdoor pool, but nothing will EVER beat the feeling of swimming in the ocean for him.

there’s just nothing that feels the same, not even a pool with saltwater will ever mimic the feeling.

so justin will often times travel from his cozy home out to the beach just to swim and chill out in the sand for awhile, whether it be for thirty minutes or a whole afternoon.

omg he also gets really into corona virus gossip

*justin the the prep group chat* “guys, i heard that if you put an onion in every corner of your house, you’ll be safe from corona”

“guys did you know that if you drink a shot of vinegar everyday it’ll clean out your immune system?”

“GUYS omg i just heard that if you bathe in a mix of egg yolks and nesquik chocolate milk powder, you’ll be immune to corona!!!”

and everyone is just so tired of him (except for parker who believes almost everything justin says and derby who encourages his behavior on because he lives for chaos)

he pays off his teachers for grades lolol mr. hattrick didn’t get fired for us to just forget these canon facts

honestly justin completely forgets school exists as a whole.

pinky:

pinky is completely sucked into social media.

she has an account on every big platform out there, each one being incredibly active, and each one having a cult following.

and now she gets to be even more active than she was before!!

pinky spends all of her time doing complex photoshoots in her bedroom, experimenting with intricate makeup looks, binging tv shows with gord, and contemplating whether or not she should give herself bangs (you can bet all of this shit and more is going onto her accs too).

pinky also spends a lot of money ordering random shit she doesn’t need and sometimes doesn’t even want, but hey!! it’s free serotonin, and pinky’s therapist says that serotonin is a good thing ahahA

sometimes she’ll even order something and just send it to random addresses just for the fun of it.

pinky is like santa, but with better fashion taste and a little less no slave labor.

speaking of therapy, her sessions are now all online because we practice social distancing in this house teehee

shits and giggles aside however, pinky is thriving!

she’s happy, and healthy, and safe in her mansion, and besides the general feeling of unimportance and lack of meaning during these times where time itself doesn’t feel like it exists at all, she’s fine haHA.

her parents keep nagging her to talk to derby and to “hang out with her future hubby while the streets are empty and there’s free time!” but pinky is NOT breaking quarantine to hang out with a boy who made her wait for a whole three minutes on their date.

(she had a nicer time with jimmy than derby would’ve ever given her anyway.)

surprise surprise! pinky also pays the nerds to do her work, but still attends most of her classes for fun, mostly so she can help tad and bryce with anything if they need it.

real queen shit if you ask me.

whew, thanks for reading all of that if you did!! sorry it was super long but enjoy your preppy food lmao

oh and my anon asks are on now so go ahead and send me some shit if you want to!! headcanon requests, drawing requests, questions in general lol anything

anyway bye byeee uwu

#tag yourself as a quarantine preppy LMAOHSJSKD #jesus fuck why is this post so long #well anyway here she is #i love feeding the community #derby harrington #bif taylor #gord vendome #tad spencer #parker ogilvie #bryce montrose #chad morris #justin vandervelde #pinky gauthier #bully canis canem edit #bully scholarship edition #canis canem edit #bully #mine #writing

[elisaphoenix13]

Baby Club

Quill was just finishing getting dressed after his shower at the station when his Gaze started to take over. The crew at the station still didn't know of his godly heritage so he had to hang his head and cover his eyes so his galaxy eyes weren't seen while he tried to figure out who was in danger. Or potential danger. Scott was out of town for work and would be gone for a few days, but it didn't look like it was him that was in trouble so it had to be one of the girls. He did a quick check on Diana and Valerie, but they were playing quietly at home with paints under the close eye of Stephen. His last person to check was Cassie but she just seemed a little upset and relatively unharmed in--

Hold on.

"SHIT!" Quill curses and looks back up once his Gaze fades away.

He had never dressed and left the station so fast. His fellow firefighters gave him somewhat of a bewildered look when he tore out of the building, and he barely managed to say goodbye to them as he raced to his car. He drove home as fast as possible without breaking too many laws, and jumped out of the car when he parked in the tower's garage, taking the elevator up to his and Scott's floor. Quill taps his foot impatiently as the elevator goes up, and the moment the doors open he almost trips over himself when he exits.

Of course what he saw in his gaze would have been seen by the two AI's controlling the tower, because in the living room sitting on the couch was Stephen and Cassie...except the teenager was now a baby. The sorcerer must have been able to calm her down since the cries Quill saw before were now periodic sniffles.

"What happened?!" Quill wheezes out and both couch occupants look over at him.

Cassie immediately held her arms out for him. "Papa!"

"Baby girl...what happened?" Quill repeats as he takes his newly infantized daughter from Stephen.

"I believe Scott's particles might have had something to do with it."

Stephen motions toward the broken vial sitting on the coffee table and Quill raises an eyebrow at it as Cassie wraps tiny arms around his neck. The vial had obviously been moved from where it had originally broken, but Quill wondered why the entire tower hadn't been shrunk. Why only Cassie, and why was she around them in the first place? Maybe the tower was too big? He vaguely recalled Scott explaining something like this.

"Wasn't she in our closet?" The celestial asks and Stephen nods.

"Victor alerted me to her incident so I came down to check on her. I found her in your closet with a broken vial next to her." Stephen stands and brushes non-existent dirt off his pants. "She's extremely lucky. Under normal circumstances those particles would have turned her into a glob. It's only safe to use with the suit."

"Shit...do you know how we can change her back?"

"No. I can talk to Tony, but we may need to wait until Scott gets home."

Quill hooks an arm under Cassie. "I thought Pym gave in and let Tony know how to make the particles?"

"As long as he promised to make it only for Scott's suit and discs. Not experiment with it or use it for something else...but considering the circumstances, I'm sure Hank will understand." Stephen sighs as he walks to the elevator. "I'll keep you updated."

Quill nods and mutters his thanks before the sorcerer disappears onto the elevator, and the god gently rubs Cassie's back when she nuzzles her face into his neck. He was royally fucked. He really had no idea how to take care of a baby by himself, and since Scott was working out of town, that was exactly what Quill was stuck doing. Sure he helped babysit Valerie on a regular basis, and Diana was down here more often than not...but Scott was always home for Valerie and Cassie usually tended to Diana. Now Cassie was the one that needed to be taken care of and Quill was not looking forward to learning how to change a diaper through trial and error.

He didn't have a choice though. Quill wasn't about to dump the responsibility on Stephen, because Cassie was his. He just had to hope Tony could figure something out or Quill would be taking care of baby Cassie until Scott came home. As wonderful as Cassie was, he doubted Scott would want to raise her all over again. Even if he missed out on five years of her life. Those were early teen years...not baby years.

"Okay, Sunshine. We'll figure this out. In the meantime, how about we take a nap? Papa is burnt out." Quill asks, and to his relief, Cassie nods in agreement.

The stress of her situation probably caught up to her and left her exhausted. So after a brief check to make sure she was indeed wearing a diaper, Quill carries her up to the master bedroom and changes out of his station uniform and into a pair of shorts after laying Cassie on the bed. While he changed, she crawled toward the head of the bed and then under the covers to wait for her papa to join her. Quill yawns and crawls under the covers, and he smiles when Cassie immediately curls up against him once he's settled.

"Comfy baby girl?"

"Warm." The baby replies quietly.

They both fell asleep within minutes after that and Quill was able to enjoy a good two hour nap before Cassie was awake and patting his chest to rouse him. He groans from the seemingly very short rest and lifts a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes before looking at whoever had woken him. When big brown eyes stared back at him, he was immediately reminded of his situation with Cassie...and then a bit of a problem when she spoke.

"Hungry."

Quill sits up with a curse. "Shit! We're going to have to go upstairs Cass. Papa can't cook you anything edible and Dad isn't home."

"Kay." Cassie responds softly.

The celestial gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt before picking up the baby and leaving the master bedroom. Quill tiredly takes the elevator up to the penthouse, noticing with a grimace that Cassie's diaper was not dry, and sighs heavily. He would have to get some diapers and whatever else baby stuff he needed from Stephen and also try and figure out how to change the damn thing in the first place. As much as Stephen loved the kids, he would undoubtedly make Quill do the dirty work. Maybe the sorcerer would at least show him how to do it. The less time he had to spend changing diapers, the better.

He just hoped that Cassie wouldn't remember this like Peter didn't remember a couple times he had been miniaturized. She would probably be mortified and that in turn would make Quill uncomfortable.

"I was wondering when you two would come up." Stephen chuckles from the kitchen when Quill steps off the elevator.

"Do you have any diapers?" The god asks and the doctor nods.

"Harley, finish making the hamburgers while I help Quill please."

Harley laughs when he sees Cassie. "Oh man! Has Peter seen her yet?!"

"I doubt it. The hamburgers?"

"Yeah Mom. I got it."

Harley walks into the kitchen and takes over cooking dinner while Stephen leads Quill up to the master bedroom. As Quill sets Cassie on the bed, Stephen disappears into the older for a few brief moments, mumbling to himself as he looks for the stash of baby items, and then comes out with an assortment. Much to Quill's relief, Stephen did show him how a diaper worked and how to properly clean Cassie before putting a clean one on. The celestial of course was already glad that this baby thing was temporary because when Stephen told him he was going to be changing diapers multiple times a day, he was positive that he openly grimaced. The doctor then sent some of the necessities down to Quill's floor through a portal after Cassie was all cleaned up, and they returned down to the kitchen to find the baby something to eat.

"Is that Sissy?!" Diana exclaims when she sees Cassie in one of Quill's arms.

"Yes it is." Stephen confirms. "She's only a baby until Daddy finds a way to fix her."

"Speaking of," Quill starts. "What has he said?"

"He said, and I quote, 'I figured out time travel. This is cake. Give me a few hours.'"

"Man I hope so. If this isn't fixable, Maggie is going to have a conniption and Scotty is going to be upset--"

"Quill. Relax. Worst case scenario, you have her like this overnight." Stephen assures.

"I think I can manage that."

Quill sits at the table and sets Cassie on his lap as Harley sets a plate with a couple of fixed hamburgers for the celestial in front of him, and Stephen sets a few baby safe foods next to it. Cassie was old enough to grab and eat what she wanted without Quill's help, so all the god did was keep an arm wrapped around her while he used his free hand to eat his hamburgers. Stephen, Harley, and Diana joined him at the table with their own burgers and even Tony came up to eat dinner as a small break before he returned to finding a way to reverse Cassie's predicament. Valerie was in her high chair eating some cereal puffs before Stephen was ready to feed her some of her baby food, and when Peter came back from patrol...he saw Cassie and actually froze. He stared for a good thirty seconds before doing exactly what Cassie had done to him when he was turned into a baby.

He ignored her.

Quill couldn't really blame the teen. He heard about when Tony and Stephen were turned into babies at separate times and how the other had to care for their significant other, and he sincerely hoped it never happened to him or Scott. Scott may have experience with babies and have an easier time, but Quill did not. Right now, Cassie was all the experience he was going to get and he wasn't keen on going through this again. Especially if it was with Scott. It just sounded weird.

"I should have something in the morning Porcupine. Can you take care of her until then or is Cassie going to be found in the middle of chaos?" Tony teases and Quill grumbles.

"Tony, be nice. He's doing just fine." Stephen says and the engineer raises an eyebrow at the sorcerer.

"I'm surprised she's not with you. You're usually a baby hoarder."

Stephen snorts. "I had my time with her this afternoon."

Valerie calls for Stephen softly to get his attention, and the sorcerer is successfully distracted by the actual baby by feeding her. Once Quill was finished with his dinner, he looked down at Cassie and huffs fondly when he found her face covered in sticky residue. That was cleanable with a washcloth and the rest of her (and him) were free of food so Quill wouldn't have to give Cassie a bath which he was thankful for. He would do anything for the girl, but the less he had to do for her as a baby, the better. He was used to parenting a teenager that could care for herself...babies and children (Diana and Valerie) were just played with and given to Scott if a diaper change was needed or if they got hungry.

That just made him sound irresponsible. Yikes.

"All done Cass?" Quill asks, and she nods. "What do you say to Mama Bear?"

"Tank you!" Cassie says with a smile in the sorcerer's direction. Stephen's eyes visibly lit up.

"Thanks Stephen. We'll go back downstairs and maybe watch a movie before heading back to bed." Quill says as he stands.

"Let me know if you need any help."

Quill nods and takes his and Cassie's plates to the sink before taking the elevator back down to his floor and walking into their kitchen. He grabs a clean washcloth and wets it, gently cleans Cassie's face of sticky residue, and then walks into the living room after throwing the washcloth into the laundry room.

"Movie and bedtime. Alright?"

"Kay, Papa."

"Alright. What do you wanna watch?"

"Snow White!" The baby says immediately.

Well then.

He sets her on the couch and puts the movie on after sitting next to her, and a few minutes into the Disney movie, Quill lays down. He was still exhausted from his shift at the station, and having a full stomach only made him more tired. Cassie moved so she was wedged between Quill's side and the couch, and the celestial fell into a light doze once he covered them both with the blanket resting on the back of the couch. The light doze soon turned into a heavy slumber once Cassie fell asleep toward the end of the movie, and they both slept on the couch until early the next morning. Quill had been too tired to move.

"...ey…Hey! Flash Gordon!" Tony shakes Quill's shoulder and the god jolts awake.

"What? What's wrong?" He mumbles and Tony chuckles.

"Nothing. Got your cure for Miss Sass."

"Oh. What do you have to do?"

"She just has to drink it."

Quill nods and rubs his eyes before checking the baby's diaper, surprisingly finding it clean, and then gently runs his fingers through her hair to gently wake Cassie up.

"Come on baby girl. Tony has something for you."

Cassie nuzzles her face into Quill's shoulder as she wakes, and then looks up to blink sleepily at Tony. The engineer hands her a small vial after opening it and she sits up to take it carefully. Both men laugh when she looks at the blue contents skeptically and Cassie looks back up at Tony suspiciously.

"It's not medicine. It's a special juice to make you big again. Drink it all okay?" Tony says.

Quill groans as he gets up off the couch, and watches Cassie drink the contents of the vial. "How long until she changes back?"

Instead of answering, Tony grabs the blanket and holds it up in front of the baby to block their view of her, and then looks away when the 'antidote' takes effect. Tony and his family had been turned into babies because of alien weaponry and magic so they retained their clothes when they turned back, but Cassie was technically shrunk down. She would not have her clothes when she was back to normal.

So when Cassie returned to her normal size, Quill had taken his shirt off so fast to offer to the teenager who only had the privacy of the blanket Tony was holding up. She takes it gratefully and pulls it on before grabbing the blanket and laying it over her lap to cover what Quill's shirt didn't, and blushes bright red.

"What do you remember kiddo?" Tony asks.

"I was doing the laundry and putting Dad's and Papa's clothes away in their closet. I think I accidentally broke one of Dad's particles...and then now." Cassie explains.

"You joined the baby club Miss Sass. I promise we didn't see anything."

"Uh...go get dressed Cass."

Quill and Tony turn away and cover their eyes after Cassie nods, and they drop their hands after the teen rushes up to her room and closes her door. Tony heads back up to the penthouse after Quill thanks him profusely for saving him from potentially turning that situation into a disaster (Tony laughed, the bastard), and Cassie comes out of her bedroom properly dressed a couple minutes later. She returns Quill's shirt to him and looks at him after tilting her head in curiosity.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Quill asks defensively.

"You didn't cook did you?"

"Do you see the kitchen up in flames?"

Cassie giggles and steps forward to hug him. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Of course...just don't make me do it again. Those eighteen hours were more than enough." The celestial gripes as he returns the hug

"I'll be more careful next time. How about your favorite for dinner as a thank you?" Cassie offers.

"Skittles?"

"I said dinner."

"I heard dessert."

"Eat charcoal."

#celestial quill #cassie lang #antlord #mama bear stephen strange #celestialfamily #tony stark #mama bear au

[bigfan-fanfic]

The Bat-dads 4 (Male!Reader x Batfamily)

If anyone has a specific situation they want to request with this reader-character, make sure to mention that you’d like a headcanon for a Batdad!Reader.

It was hard for you to deal with Jason’s death. 

Even though you constantly worried about Dick and Jason being injured or traumatized, it never occurred to you that this was actually a potentially lethal hobby for your husband and sons.

So you were almost as reluctant as Bruce to keep adding to the Wayne Clan

But then along came the next additions to the family.

Tim

You and Bruce had a strained relationship for a while, especially after you advocated for the Joker’s death.

No one knows this, but you practically begged him to kill the Joker, to make sure no one else would have to lose a child, a parent, a friend to his madness ever again.

But when Tim showed up on your doorstep, it was your worst nightmare.

Alfred had disappeared, Bruce was incommunicado, Dick was captured, and the only people able to help were a man untrained in combat and a skinny tween.

But the two of you raid the Batcave for some castoff suits that were still good enough to work.

And that night, there are two Batmen in Gotham, one with a Nightwing and the other with a Robin.

You and Tim use strategy and clever tricks to disable and evade the guards, and eventually free Nightwing and rescue Batman.

Tim is the only one to have actually seen you in vigilante action (you have not gone out since, and his account of your tactical and combat brilliance is a much-requested story)

Black Mask’s men are terrified of you because they thought they had the Bat cornered, and now there’s another one? Like, what???

Tim is basically your son from that moment on. Even if it takes a while for things to work out that way.

Tim usually calls you Y/N, or if he’s sleep deprived, Dad.

He’s perpetually surprised whenever you show interest in what he is doing.

Even if it is only to tell him to “SLEEP, for goodness sakes, Tim!”

Tim plays word games online with you while on patrol. Or online chess. You generally win. It aggravates him to no end.

Whenever he is swamped, you leave bright Post-It Notes for him everywhere you know he’ll look. Sometimes they’ll have instructions, and sometimes an encouraging saying or a smiley face.

He says it’s embarrassing, but they never fail to give him a smiley face of his own.

Sometimes Tim gets confused about how “normal” people interact, so he’ll ask you really odd questions about mundane things. General responses from you are either confused or sarcastic.

“Y/N, how do you say hello to people, but not be, like, all formal about it?”

“Uhh... hi?”

“Y/N, I need to learn how to say goodbye to someone without accidentally saying ‘I love you.’” 

“Well, young Padawan, that will take years of training...”

Tim also secretly likes to geek out with you over fandom.

Trust me, Tim is die-hard for Comic-Con

Your boy has outpaced you so far in fandom that now you just bluff whenever he talks about the latest shows you haven’t seen yet.

He gets no sleep and is always looking at at least three screens, so he definitely is always caught up and instantly blogging about his shows/games/websites/podcasts/assorted other stuff.

He also had to be talked down from hacking the Pottermore website when he was sorted into Slytherin.

It was a tense time for all.

You had to take away his Internet.

And then watch him to make sure he wasn’t being a sneaky-sneak.

Like, sitting in a room staring at him, drinking pure caffeine and just watching him go through Internet withdrawals for an hour and then sleeping for 48.

Seriously, impose a strict sleeping schedule!

Damian

Oh boy.

Oh boy.

Not good.

In the first few days of meeting you, Damian tried to kill you maybe thirty-eight times a day. The only reason you survived is by an insane amount of luck and the constant vigilance of Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason, and Tim.

Damian took it as a personal insult that his father prefers you to his mother.

Complained about how useless you seemed

“Y/N isn’t even trained in combat. He’s a liability, Father, you know that.”

Bruce is no help whatsoever

You persevere. You withstand. You even start predicting Damian’s assassination plots before he attempts them and start leaving Post-It Notes for him too, with mocking yet oddly positive messages.

Found on a rafter where Damian had planned to rig a trap that would end with you being hanged: “Tough luck, Damian! Only barely noticed this in time! :)”

Found later on an upstairs banister that Damian only considered tossing something over onto you: “Good idea, but please don’t break anything. Alfred would go crazy! :)”

And this, remarkably, earns Damian’s respect. So he decides, for now, to stop trying to kill you.

But Damian only really comes to see you as a parent after Talia tries to take him back.

You put yourself between them and tell him to run. And Talia is about to kill you when Damian intervenes, surprising everyone. 

You don’t talk about it afterward. But his actions make it clear that the two of you are more family than he and Talia ever could be.

He calls you Papa, with the second syllable stressed.

Jason makes fun of him for this: “Pa-PA? Is this Downton Abbey or something?”

He’s really excited if you’re into his more violent hobbies, like if you take him to see some antique swords at the museum or something, or if you discuss ancient battle strategies, but he’s also excited when you encourage the things he was never allowed to do before.

Like draw. Or skip training

The second one he rarely does, but once in a while you pop into the Batcave and call out that it’s a rest day, and you take Damian and the two of you do something together

Damian is a surprisingly avid performer.

He was in the school musical at Gotham Academy and knocked it out of the park.

He only invited you and Alfred to see him because “TT, only you and Pennyworth can be trusted with such sensitive information.”

But you brought the others anyway, with a warning that anything remotely rude or mocking would be harshly penalized.

Good times were had.

Damian has trouble admitting what he likes. Such as being read aloud to. You noticed once that he always seems calmer when someone is reading something out loud, though he scoffs when asked if he wants to be read to.

So you just started reading everything aloud to see what stuck. Starting with Harry Potter.

Now Damian still doesn’t admit he likes it.

But every so often, when it’s quiet, you’ll notice him put a book on a table where he’s sure you’ll see it and then walk away, pretending he knows nothing about it.

Without fail, you grab the book and go find Damian, who is suddenly engrossed in something on his computer, or a video game, and you ask him to come listen to something.

“TT, must I, Papa? This had better be interesting.”

He always complains, and you always ignore him.

But please, be gentle with cliffhangers - Damian can’t stand them. He’ll beg and plead and threaten for just one more chapter.

#batdad reader #batfamily x male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #batparent reader #dc headcanons #male reader #headcanons

[larougie]

caffeine stains and library books

genre: college/coffee shop au

pairing(s): bang chan

word count: 3.2k

description: With college kicking your ass, what exactly are you meant to do, when you spill that fifth cup of coffee over that very. Very. Expensive textbook. Apparently he didn’t have any good ideas either.

Finals were going to be the death of you.

You were seriously considering the option of dropping out and just working in a supermarket for the rest of your life, and it had gotten to the point where breaking into the office for the test answers wasn't seeming like such a bad idea. You'd been renting a tiny studio apartment for the last two years, but the limited floor space was currently overtaken by piles and piles of notebooks and loose sheets of paper with rushed notes scribbled over them. Your old textbooks with folder corners and bashed ends were all stacked against the wall in a corner beside your bed, and you only took one out from the pile at a time. Those books were worth more than your life at this point, and you swore to yourself that you’d never lose them. But currently, the one book you were poring over wasn’t even yours. 

Eventually, you knew that the rent payments and college fees would catch up with you - especially considering your current lack of employment - but you had hoped that your bank account would hold out until after the final exams and until you could go job hunting in the summer break. As fate would have it, it was a little bitch, and you had no such luck. You had a few options before you had to start selling kidneys, but none of them seemed appealing and you simply just did not possess enough hours in the day. Of course, there was always one major expense on your debit card every month, but you weren't sure if you were ready to give that one up.

Turns out, you were perfectly content to use textbooks borrowed from the library and return them after the exams, as long as it meant that you didn’t have to stop going to the little cute coffee shop a few minutes off campus. You spent most days frequenting that cafe, sitting in the corner with your old laptop and the borrowed books, sipping on a coffee way too hot for your taste buds. Now, when you had called your best friend, asking for advice on what to do because you were about to lose your apartment, he had, of course offered the logical solution of - Stop spending so much money on coffee. 

But you had a dilemma. 

See, you told Minho that you studied in the corner of the cafe because the atmosphere was calm, it helped you focus, and to not buy a coffee would be incredibly rude, but he knows you very well. Too well, actually, it's quite terrifying sometimes. You definitely weren't going to the coffee shop to stare at the cute barista who had been working there for the past few months, that was definitely not why you were spending extra, unnecessary money on coffee. Or, that's what you tried to convince Minho of at least.

It wasn't a one sided infatuation though, and that was your saving grace in this situation. You'd been dropping into this specific cafe for about a year now, after trying all around the campus to find a decent cup of coffee that wasn't overloaded with sugar. Even before the barista boy had added himself into the mix, you knew that this was going to become a regular addiction, and his addition to the staff only cemented that fact. You really wish you had the guts to ask his name, because he already knows yours. However the universe worked, he always seemed to be working when you came in at random hours of the day, and he always seemed happy to take your order at the register. Give it a few weeks, and as soon as you entered the cafe through the small door, he was ringing up your coffee on the machines behind him. You were his “regular”, as the other staff members liked to tease him. 

Sometimes, when the cafe quiets down in the later hours of the evening, he’ll still be working and you’ll still be typing up that essay that was due in a few hours. He’ll put on some music from his phone, and put it into a small glass to amplify the sound so you could hear it. The first time he’d done it, he’d been constantly checking back at you to see if the volume was annoying you or if you were looking at him. To be honest, at first the music did distract you a little bit, but you were too enamoured with the way the boy danced quietly to the music as he cleaned down the tables to ask him to turn it off. 

Soon enough, most of the songs he played you had made their way onto your study playlist. You put your earbuds in and listened to the music as you studied in the cafe, and when the barista turned on his own playlist - only then would you remove them. He’d always catch you staring at him as the cafe began to empty, the unspoken question of “are you going to put your music on soon?”

You’d always turn bright red when he caught you staring, and look away so fast it should have given you whiplash. You figured that he never approached you about it because it was too awkward of a topic and you had made him feel too uncomfortable. The truth was, he did want to talk to you, but he had neither a reason nor the confidence to stroll up and strike a conversation. He had noticed that one of the textbooks you often dragged with you to the corner looked oddly familiar, but he guessed it was because he had taken that class as a junior last year, and shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

You were five or six cups of pure caffeine into the study session, and before you looked up you already could tell it was getting too dark for three pm. As you lifted your eyes from the screen in front of you for the first time in a while, and rolled your head back onto your shoulders, your wandering eyes caught sight of the time displayed on your laptop. Oh. Oh. The cafe is closed now. Had been for about twenty minutes. You turned your head quickly around the shop, looking for people and found no one. You wondered why no member of staff had come up to you yet asking you to kindly leave the building, but they all seemed to be preoccupied behind the kitchen doors. Seeing an ideal time for an unnoticed escape, you packed up all your things in record time, shoving them haphazardly into your bag and bolted out that door. The chime might have alerted the staff to someone leaving, but by the time anyone had made it to the front counter to see the door - you were long gone.

Pulling an all nighter was never a fun proposition, but you undertook the task more often than you’d like to admit. See, your reasoning behind that was Procrastination was key to a passing grade, and, yes, so far that certain theory hasn't failed you, but it was definitely taking a toll on your mental health. But, you dug your own grave, time to lie in it.

You take it back, you hate this. It's four am. What's the treble clef. Tchaikovsky is that you. All the notes are one big long line. Minho send assistance. 

Its official, university is going to kill you and tonight is the night you finally keel over. Rubbing your eyes you roll back the chair you've been curled up in and lift your arms to stretch over your head- 

Your hand hit something. Probably a pencil. Or that water bottle. You lifted one eyelid slowly, peering at the offending object. Oh the coffee mug, yeah that makes sense you don't drink water. The coffee mug that was now slowly pouring the cold brown liquid over the textbook that was open at the top of your desk. The textbook that you couldn’t afford to buy yourself because you were a broke college student and rent and living expenses took priority. 

It took a moment to register.

Oh no. oh christ, you had to return this back to the library in a few days - you couldn’t pay another late fee! The lady at the library desk really didn't like you, and always seemed to go out of her way to make you pay the full fee, despite you showing her your student ID multiple times. It was probably because you never returned books on time, but that was beside the point, isn't she meant to be understanding? You were a uni student for crying out loud, the stress. 

The point was, you had now completely destroyed a very, very expensive textbook that you didn’t have the money to replace - the words were bleeding into each other and slowly becoming illegible right before your eyes. The librarian was going to hang your head from the archway. You re-iterate, college was going to kill you. Just maybe, not in the way you expected.

Picking up the phone, you frantically press on the first contact you see.

“Minho?”

“Sup dumbass.”

“I’d bitch at you, but it's fitting for the situation, help me. Please.”

“... Who’s dead.”

“NO ONE’S DEAD I JUST- murdered a very expensive textbook that I don’t have the money to replace, and the librarian is signing my death warrant.”

Minho sucked in a breath from the other end of the phone. “Eesh y/n, you sure it wasn’t one of those loan-on-loan books from the last shelf?”

You press the phone between your shoulder and your ear, snagging the paper between your fingers and pulling the hard-bound book towards yourself. You pushed the pens and pencils out of your way and sent them scattering onto the floor in your haste, and flipped to the back of the cover to see the words On Student Loan.

“About that,” you mumbled, crumpling your head into your hands as the phone clattered to the desk beside you. You could hear Minho laughing on the other end, and you huffed to yourself. “I called you to give me advice, you horrible person, not to lauGH at my misery.”

“Okay okay I,” Minho tried to catch his breath, coughing slightly, “It's not the end of the world, is it? It's a Library book. Explain it to the lady at the desk, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Sure, Min. Thanks.”

“No problem, babes.”

“Ew no.”

“Whatever babes.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh, and let your head hit the desk again, before yelping as the wood left a red mark on your skin. It couldn’t have been just a normal library book? The universe has to hate you right now? No, instead it had to be one of those stupid textbooks that seniors lent to the library from past courses for the younger years to borrow. It was someone else’s book. That they had bought and studied from, and were expecting to get back from the library once the year was over. In the top corner of the stamp, the senior’s name who gave it to the library was printed - Bang Chan.

That was familiar, wasn’t it? You had heard that name being called out around somewhere, by a group of boys. You rattled your brain around, trying to think where you had heard that name before - you knew it sounded like you’d heard it before. In your lectures, on the roll? No, he was a senior and he wouldn’t be in any of your classes. Around on campus wouldn’t make any sense, you walked around with music on all the time, you couldn’t hear when people called your own name out, let alone anyone else’s. 

In the? Cafe? Possible. Very possible. Well, it's worth a shot, he could be a friend of someone who works there. 

What you planned to do once you had found this Bang Chan is beyond you, but you had a general idea of apologizing profusely, attempting to stutter out an explanation between that and tossing in a promise to repay him for destroying it but just not right then because you didn’t have money, hence why you can’t just buy your own textbook and not borrow ones from the library. Hopefully, he’d be a nice enough guy and won’t take your destruction of his music book to heart. Hopefully. 

So, come the next morning, you took one last long look at the destroyed pile of papers held together on your table - still waiting to wake up from this nightmare - and left your apartment with your bag swung over your shoulder. You locked the door behind you, and began the short walk into your first hour of lectures. 

You knew you couldn’t get to the cafe before two pm, but that didn’t stop you from checking the clock every few minutes to see if there was a chance you could dag out of the hall. Five past one turned into ten past two, and by the time your lecturer was finishing up her last slide you were already turning off your laptop and putting it away into your bag. 

Your heart was in your mouth as you walked slowly up to the cafe. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous, but you guessed it was just because of a guilty conscience. Pushing open the door slowly, you looked up from your shoes and instantly made eye contact with the one, the only. Barista boy. 

Great, this is going to be embarrassing. 

Swallowing your pride, and your slight disappointment that your first real conversation with the guy is going to be about looking to find another boy, you began to move up towards the counter where he was standing.

“Your usual?” He asked, with a small smile.

“I, uh. No actually, I was wondering. Do you know if - of, sorry, of. Do you know of a Bang Chan, by any chance? I think he studies music in my university.” Your hands were fumbling with each other in front of your hoodie.

The boy in front of you furrowed his brow slightly and tilted his head, stating “Present?”

Oh cool, you destroyed a cute barista boy’s textbook who is actually Chan, the guy you’ve been looking for is the guy you’ve been thirsting over. Great stuff. That's the end of you. Rip in pieces.

After that, you started blabbering out everything. Word vomit, and no stomach medication was stopping this. 

“Christ okay, this is gonna sound absolutely horrible, but did you lend one of your music theory textbooks to the library by any chance? Well, heh, of course you did, I have it and I was using it for a while - like for study not for anything else that would be weird - I’m a music major you see, and I - the textbooks are really expensive this year? And I just couldn't afford them with my rent as well but you obviously don’t care about that bit-”

He put up a hand to stop you, and you took a deep breath. Softly, he said, “Yeah, I remember I left some of my older textbooks in the library because I didn’t need them for notes anymore. Is there a problem with one of them?”

You stop. 

“Well, yes? Technically? But it's totally my fault - you see, a few night ago i kinda, totally on accident destroyed the book when I spilt coffee over it, and I’m so sorry, i really am and I promise I’ll find the money to repay you for the book, I just don’t have that kind of cash on me right now, I’m so sorry.”

Chan pursed his lips, looking at you with his head lifted up slightly. He chuckled softly. Oh boy he’s so mad, there went your chance at dating the cute barista boy, because newsflash he’s going to hate you for the rest of your life and, you looked again at his face. He was smiling now. The small lips had broken into a beaming smile that spread across his face like sunshine on a stupidly adorable field of flowers. 

“You know i've been waiting for a reason to talk to you for the last few weeks.”

His voice broke the rushing of your thoughts around your head, and you flipped your eyes up to meet his in shock.

“So now it kinda seems like you owe me a favour right?”

Words. Come on words.

“Uh, yeah i guess? I'll have the money for you as soon as possible. I promise I'm so sorry-” you stammered out, clearly confused by the situation but still extremely grateful that he was taking the news of his mutilated music book so well.

“It's okay! Seriously, I never used that thing anyway. But instead of paying me back for the book, how about we say you just - owe me a favour?”

Your bank account screamed at you to say yes, so you did.

“Uh, sure?”

When you said you'd owe him a favor, this isn’t what you had meant. 

“CHAN I'M GOING TO KILL YOU.”

He only laughs at your threats, running around the back of the sofa and tossing a pillow at your face to block your view. You bat it away in frustration, rejoining the chase, and your socks skid on the wooden flooring as you slide around the furniture in pursuit of your assailant. Chan runs into the bedroom and closes the door, you hot on his heels and you reach the door seconds after it clicks shut. As you slam open the door, and skid into the room, you stop in your tracks. You survey your surroundings, looking for any indication of where the menace could be hiding. The curtains twitch from the wind coming through the open window, and you shift your stance to face the billowing fabric. When your guard is down, he takes his chance. 

With a strangled battle cry, Chan leaps out from behind the door and tackles you down in one swift movement. You fall with an ungraceful yelp onto your bedsheets, banging your knee on the foot of the bed as you tumble into a heap. You land on your back, the breath knocked out of you as Chan sits triumphantly atop your legs, pinning them down. He smiles down at you like the angel that he is. 

Staring amusedly back up at him, you jerk your uninjured knee, flipping the two of you over so you were on top and he was staring up at you. You tilt your head, and smile at him like he had smiled at you, and the two of you break out into laughter.

“You made me hurt my knee.”

“I didn't make you do anything.”

“Wow, such care. Such emotion. Much love. Not even an offer to kiss it better.”

“I think i have a better idea.”

 Yeah, maybe this wasn't exactly what you had in mind, but by god, was it a million times better.

You still had that library book by the way. It was sitting underneath your desk, caffeine stains and all.

#stray kids #stay #jyp #jyp entertainment #bang chan #lee minho #minho #chan #chris bang #lee know #changbin #CB97 #3racha #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz #jisung #han jisung #lee felix #lee yongbok #felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #seungmin #jeongin #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #timestamps #kpop #kpop additional member au

[spellbound-banshee]

Don’t Cry - Peter Parker

Request: can you write a peter parker x reader imagine where the reader has an emotionally abusive family situation where she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough and he doesn’t know until he finds out one night when dropping in her room and hearing her cry and it’s all soft and fluffy bc he comforts her? sorry for the specifics thank u!

this sounds sooooooooo cute! and don’t worry i love specifics, it really helps me write!

Summary: explained above!

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, mentions of abuse/violence

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x reader

You and your Mom had gotten into yet another screaming match in the afternoon. She would always tell you how you’re a horrible person, how you never do anything for other people, and how you treat her and everyone else like shit. Of course, none of that was true, but the fights would get to your head all too easily, and before you knew it you were sobbing in your bedroom, thinking it was. You felt so stupid when you would do this, knowing your Mom was a horrible person and treated you like you were dirt all the time. Still, she was your mother, and it stung to hear these things from a parental figure in your life.

So - as usual - you sat in your bed, crying silently into your pillow and hugging the blankets to your chest, desperately trying to get some sleep.

Peter had been on his night patrol as Spider-Man, sitting on a rooftop buildings and listening close to the police radios Karen had intercepted for him. There wasn’t much activity tonight, so he decided to swing by your house and check up on you, usually you would text him and ask how his commute was going, checking to see if he was safe. When he hadn’t gotten the text, he was a bit concerned but figured you were just busy, but he wanted to make sure you were alright.

A soft knocking at your window interrupted your pity party. You shot up immediately, wiping your eyes as you knew exactly who it was. You saw Spider-Man hanging upside down, giving you a small wave as you walked over to open your window. Normally, you would smile, but you couldn’t even muster up enough strength to give him a fake one. Once you opened the window, he took off his mask and shook his head a bit so his hair fluffed out, he knew you liked that. Still, he received no smile.

His smile dropped and his face softened as soon as he saw your glistening cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Hey...” He said in a soft voice, slowly flipping himself around so he was in a crouching position outside your window. “Are you okay?” His voice was so soft you could barely here it, but you shook your head ‘no’ and stepped to the side so he could come in.

He immediately took the chance and jumped in with careful feet as to not wake your drunk mother downstairs. There was a moment of awkward silence before he put his mask down and took a cautious step towards you. He could tell you’d been crying for a long time, as you sniffled and you felt another wave of tears begin to creep up on you. “What’s wrong?” And that’s when you lost it.

You practically threw yourself at him, clinging onto him like he was the last stable thing in your life, and to be honest, he was. He was quick to spring into action, wrapping his arms around your mid back and pulling you close enough to feel your heartbeat. Peter didn’t know why you were crying, he didn’t even know about your whole family situation, but nevertheless he tried to comfort you. You tried to forget everything, just letting yourself fall into Peter. His soft hair, the rough-ish material of his Spider-Man suit, his cheap cologne and though you couldn’t see them, you could tell his brows were furrowed in concerned confusion.

Once the storm had passed and your sobs had been reduced to soft whimpers, Peter had wrapped a blanket around you and wiped your sticky cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay.” He whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head and giving you a soft smile. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

So you exploded. You explained everything, the abuse mostly, but the stress of worrying about him also contributed to your breakdown. He listened and nodded his head to make sure you knew he was engaged, squeezing your hand gently when you talked about something particularly harsh. He felt horrible, especially because he didn’t know this had been going on, he just wanted to be there for you. Peter didn’t know what to say, you two just sat there in silence, waiting for the other person to make a move.

“I-I’m so sorry...” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, his tight suit being the least of his problems at this point. “(Y/n)... we need to get you out of this house.” He said, always immediately trying to find solutions to problems rather than letting them play out. When you didn’t say anything, he took both of your hands in his and looked right into your eyes. “I’m serious. You can’t stay here, your mother is a horrible person and doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you. You’re also a minor, and if we call the right people we can get you to stay somewhere else.” You nodded, too tired to agree or disagree, but you knew you had to seriously consider the option.

Aunt May was always happy to have you in their home, and especially with this kind of situation, you would be welcomed with open arms. You knew that, but the thought of leaving everything you knew scared you, but you weren’t happy where you were. “Okay...” You whispered, your voice weak and small; Peter immediately knew that you shouldn’t be making decisions when you’re in this state.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We can stay here if you want, watch some TV and I can stay with you, whatever you want.” You nodded, looking down at your hands as his thumbs stroked along the back of your palms.

“I-I don’t feel safe here... can I just stay with you for one night?”

Peter didn’t waste time in swinging you home, but he was careful not to go too fast to not overwhelm you. You kind of enjoyed the easy swing, especially since you only lived a couple of blocks from him, so it was nice and short. May was sleeping by the time he opened his window and put you inside, smiling a bit as he took his mask off once more and placed it in the laundry basket. Without much thought, Peter pressed the spider in the middle of his suit, letting his suit fall to the floor. Your eyes widened a bit, and he turned around with a light blush on his cheek. “Sorry, shit. Force of habit.” He quickly ran to cover himself with a pajama shirt he found on the floor.

You smiled slightly and nodded, noticing he was still in his boxers and with that realization you blushed and turned around, giving him his privacy. Peter smiled sheepishly and put some pants on, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

After you got comfortable, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies, you yawned and lied down on his bed, immediately sinking into the mattress. When Peter smiled down at you, you couldn’t help but smile back up at him, moving to the side to allow him to snuggle next to you. “Thank you.” You whispered, pressing your back against his chest and feeling the warmth spread throughout you.

“Of course, (Y/n).” He whispered back, placing a hesitant hand on your waist before pulling you closer to him. “Anytime. And again, I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay, I don’t really want to think about it anymore...” He nodded understandably and tried to pull you even closer, wanting nothing more to protect you for the rest of his life. You smiled slightly, almost reading his mind and you placed your hand over his.

For the first time, you slept soundly. Not wracked with anxiety, not with tears staining your pillow, but in Peter Parker’s arms; warm, soothing and... safe. You felt safer than you ever had. You could get used to this.

-

#sorry this was terrible #peter #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #spiderman #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland oneshot #tom holland angst #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel angst #fluff #angst #trigger warning

[ibuproffie]

snr szn ~ advice for high school seniors

it’s not gonna be perfect, and that’s ok. high school movies tell us that senior year is this amazing time in your life where you have all these formative experiences that shape the course of your destiny or something, but in my experience this is not really the case. my senior year was somehow both excruciatingly slow and very fast, and it had ups and downs just like any other school year. so if your senior year isn’t a wonderful collection of instagrammable moments, don’t worry. everyone else is finding “senior season” a little underwhelming too, even the people who seem to be having the most fun. quite frankly, you shouldn’t want your senior year of high school to be the best year of your life. 

college apps are important, but you don’t have to kill yourself over them. i know, i can say this because i just finished them, but it’s so true. applying to college is a horrible, tedious process that i’m going to attempt to break down in another masterpost. i went to a high school where people were fucking obsessed with getting into college, and it was sort of horrifying to watch people self-destruct over the process. even i (and i consider myself a fairly private, non-competitive, even-keeled person) went a little nuts towards the end. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, there is no reason on god’s green earth to apply to twenty or more schools. it’s expensive (most application fees are 60+ USD), time-consuming, and stressful. the only reason i can even see why you might be doing this is if you qualify for a bunch of application fee waivers, but even then, it’s just stupid. most colleges make you write secondary essays in addition to the common or coalition app essay, and that doesn’t even factor in scholarship applications, interview prep, and keeping up with school on top of everything. the best thing you can do for yourself is pick around ten-ish schools that you’re actually serious about attending and skip the hassle. you will get into at least one college if you apply smart. trust me. the people i know who went ham with applications were miserable all the time (even the smartest ones) and most of them didn’t even get into their top choice schools. when you’re churning out 3+ essays every month, it follows that they’re not all gonna be winners. additionally, know that life will go on even if you don’t get into harvard. relax. you have an entire life ahead of you. even if it doesn’t work out exactly how you planned, good things take time, ya feel? 

you’re still valid even if you don’t participate in every “senior activity” possible. “but it’s your last pep rally!!” “you HAVE to go to prom!!” “let’s go to every football game this season!!”  no. just no. you’re really not gonna remember a lot of this stuff. if large crowds of ppl aren’t your thing, if you’re stressed or tired, if you don’t have the money (a lot of these “senior only” activities are EXPENSIVE expensive or at least they were at my school), or if you just have no interest in homecoming or whatever, IT’S FINE. you don’t have to justify this stuff to other people. i let ppl guilt trip me into doing a bunch of shit for our “last high school memories” or whatever and uhhh i didn’t always have a good time. for one thing, i’ve never had a shit ton of school spirit or whatever and two, being around crowds of ppl is pretty draining for me. the only “senior activity” i actually enjoyed was prom, but i knew ppl who skipped out on that and ya know what? i think they were ok. i never bought a yearbook. it’s fine. you should shape your senior year around what’s mentally/financially safe for you + and what you’re actually interested in, not what people expect you to do.

you don’t really have to do extracurricular activities this year, so don’t do anything you’re not truly passionate about. i stopped doing a lot of stuff like model un and science olympiad this year because i just wasn’t interested in them anymore. and i don’t regret it. to be blunt, you already have the lines on your resume filled by those activities if you’ve done them for a long time. so if you’re not feelin’ it, don’t waste your time. just do the things you wanna do. i did a lot of theater stuff last year and had a great time. it was super rewarding and i had a pretty good time with my castmates, and i was glad i had done that instead of more “academic” activities like scioly. 

it’s ok to be unsure about your plans for the future. for some reason, this is the year, every adult in your life is gonna be like, “wHaT’s Ur MaJoR???” and “wHaT jOb Do YoU wAnNa HaVe wHeN u GrOw uP??” as a result, you can start to feel a lot of pressure around having an answer prepared, and if you are on the fence about what you wanna do with your life, you can feel like other ppl have their shit together a lot more and that you’re aimless and stupid. trust me, you’re not, though. i personally think it’s unfair that we expect 18 y/os, who in many ways are still kids, to have their whole life planned out. a lot is still liable to change even after high school, and I think you’ll be remiss if you don’t allow your dreams and ambitions to change with it. if you’re truly unsure about your plans but you know you’re going to college, i’d recommend making sure none of the places you’re applying to are going to lock you down in a major when you set foot on campus. i have friends who are going to large universities who have already basically declared a major, which to me seems like an odd system. if 4-yr college isn’t in the cards for you for whatever reason, try taking a year off, getting a job, or community college. a lot of ppl i know look down on ccs, but to my knowledge, community college can be a great start to figuring out what you wanna do with your life. you have time. don’t rush it.

getting sick of your school friends is normal. it sounds mean, but in my experience, it’s true. i mean you’ve gone to school with these people for 4 or more years now, and you’ve changed a lot. and that doesn’t mean you don’t like them and wish them well, but there can be days where you’re like “omg pls stop talking to me rn!!” especially in that lull after application season. don’t be mean to anyone ofc, but realize that feeling exasperated with your peers is just part of the process, and you’re not a bad person for wanting a little bit of space. in my experience, unless the issue is w regards to toxicity or people being generally shitty, ppl will be able to connect w each other much more normally after school is over. 

you will get senioritis to some degree, but you have to push through it. it must be great to be one of those people who literally never stops working. but for the vast majority of us, some kind of senioritis will slap us in the ass after applications are done. you will have no motivation to do coursework but! remember that coursework needs to be completed! to be completely honest, once you’ve been accepted to college, you really only need to maintain a C average to not get rescinded, and i knew plenty of people who screwed around more than i did and they didn’t get their admission rescinded. but like, you don’t want to be one of those people who somehow fails a class because you don’t “feel like” doing the homework. you need to graduate, you need to hold onto your scholarship, and you need to maintain your accepted status. quite honestly, you need to kick ur own ass and make yourself work, whether that’s by turning down invites to hang out, or putting your phone in a different room. also, don’t be that person who’s playing iphone games in every class. your teachers will think you’re an asshole, and that’s really not the move. 

you don’t have to take everyone’s advice. this is the year everyone wants to be an expert on adulting, whether that’s your peers or parents’ colleagues or school counselors. in the end, your are the only one who can decide what’s right for you based on your financial situation and what you are comfortable with. i’m not saying “don’t take anyone’s advice”, because i truly believe there are some people out there who have the means to help you succeed. but i think you should pick and choose because you’re about to be fed a deluge of information that may or may not be useful or relevant to what you want to do. for example, people told me that i was limiting myself by not applying to any ivy league schools or very many competitive universities, or that i should lie about my race on my application (!!) because of the bias against ppl of asian descent in college admissions (note: i actually wrote about my heritage in my common app essay so it wasn’t like it was some secret lmao), which were uhhh not helpful. do what feels right and don’t feel the need to humor ppl who don’t have your best interests at heart. 

don’t compare yourself with other ppl. it’s natural to be a little jealous of peers who snag acceptances to prestigious colleges on full-tuition scholarships or land dream jobs/gap-year programs right out of high school. it’s a bit of an ugly feeling, but i’m not gonna sit here and say i didn’t wish i was one of those people at a point. that’s disingenuous in the extreme. it’s ok to be disappointed if everything doesn’t all work out, but at a certain point you need to accept what’s happening to you and make the very damn best of it. wallowing in self-pity just because your classmates are succeeding is just stupid. also, recognize that everyone’s ability to achieve their post-hs goals is wildly different based on their own circumstances. if you are less financially able to pay for college, for example, your opportunities are more limited than someone with a six-figure college fund. it’s quite frankly naive to assume that everyone shares your experience. be happy for people who do well. be happy for people who are proud of themselves. don’t try to take other people down because you’re feeling bitter. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again-other people’s success is not your failure. 

take time to do some much needed self care. senior year can be hectic, and it’s important to disengage from stressful situations. take a walk. watch a movie with your friends. take a long shower. don’t think you have to be “productive” all the time. you won’t be, and that’s ok. 

#mine #studyblr #tips #advice #masterpost #high school #emmastudies #studylustre #heysprouht #heyaestudier #heyscholarly #gloomstudy #nihaonicole #studyhyphenblr #pridebulletjournal #adelinestudies #lookstudyblr #chrissiestudies #heysareena #academiix #succstudy #azrstudies #xiutingzainali #studyquill #elkstudies #quadrtics #grifstudies #tbhstudying

[empressxmachina]

Sideline - “iii”. by Imperial-Radiance (that’s me)

Also on Wattpad

   “Madi?”

   The girl in question gasped and shook at the reverberation of her name – Jake’s already orotund voice ringing even more from proximity and can dynamics. So focused on retrieving her phone, she didn’t detect his approach, but the anything but quiet query brought her back to reality. This grossly fucked reality. Just like how Jake reacted to her, Madi knew this made all too much sense to not be real, even though the results were terrifying on her end rather than worrisome. Nevertheless, safety was right there like what she wanted, so she had to be grateful and get it.

   Madi took a breath before retracting her hand from the soda spout and rising from her hunched-over position to see her supposedly giant savior. She already knew there was nothing to allege about his size; she had felt him before seeing him earlier. However, standing erect and seeing that her head couldn’t rise over one of the smallest soda cans that she had ever seen, let alone it being on its side, was quite disheartening. It was made worse, especially now, as there was undoubtedly another body behind it for reference: an above-average body in all respects but still a normally human body. So, she had a few expectations that kept her from passing out again upon sight of Jake.

   She didn’t pass out, but maybe that would’ve been easier to handle.

   Madi could practically see the redness of his blood drain from Jake’s skin when she fully came into view. Any more translucent, and she probably could’ve seen the cogs in his head trying to figure this out and how else to react. He knelt down on a knee and focused his eyes on her fairy-like frame, uncaring of any approaching soda anymore, unaware of the tremor he sent through his tiny friend while doing so, recognizing and scanning all her diminutive details.

   She was a sight to behold to him, and he was, too, to her. However, before she could really absorb his scale like he was, a hand just as large as his planetary, light-eclipsing head began heading right for her. Already having accepted it as her best way out in her lonesome, she was calmly prepared to just let it take her away. Tumbling for so many years had already made her used to rapid altitude shifts, so that wouldn’t have been an issue, even like this… probably.

   But, in a sudden wave, the residual reality of their risk hit her, reigniting her panic.

   She had already been dealt cards from a bad deck, and those cards were still on the table, all over and around her. Even if it would’ve brought her an empathizer to her situation, she couldn’t bear someone else being given a bad hand… and by their own hand.

   So, she didn’t.

   “Jake, no!”

   Madi felt the air blow by from Jake's branching fingers stopping at her yelp. Thankfully, no contact was made with her drink-dampened self. They continued to hover in front of her along her length, letting the risk of touch hang in the air. Following the digits up their tree trunk of an arm to a shoulder and then a head, a colossal, concerned face with dark brunette locks pouring out of a beanie stared at her.

   “No?” Jake repeated, keeping his hand up within grabbing distance of her. “What do you mean ‘No?’ Look at you, Mads. You’re so—”

   “I know what I look like!” she projected up to him, assertiveness replacing her awe for the moment. “You don’t have to tell me. I know it’s bad, but I’m serious. Don’t touch me!”

   Jake winced at her demand, partially from its surprising subject matter and partially from her voice. Despite her diminutive dimensions, he could hear her with clarity – too much clarity if his math was right. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his days blasting music in his ears, his training with sound for his media classes, the endless coaches respectfully lashing out at him all throughout his school years, or him just having sensitive ears, but Madi’s voice was loud to him. It made absolutely no sense, but then again, neither did her size.

   Anatomical anomalies aside, Jake didn’t approve of her seemingly spontaneous surge of pride, either. But at least he could say she was definitely the Madi he knew.

   “You called me here to help you,” he tested, throwing his arms up. “You called me, and now you don’t want me to?” He saw many a flaw with her logic, and if she didn’t catch that through his tone, then his raised eyebrow and head tilt showed her.

   “Yes!” she confirmed with a stomp. Then, she thought about what he said. “No!” Noticing the contradiction, she juggled his words and her own words again, only to puzzle herself in the end. “What?”

   Perhaps it was the stress that complemented her new physique, but she couldn’t tell if Jake was messing with her or not. With him being a televised, Division I athlete rather than ‘just a cheerleader’ like she was as the media tended to say, Madi assumed that he would’ve been informed of the soda recall first. Considering that she was drenched in the stuff – its aroma couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else – she couldn’t comprehend how he could’ve possibly been confused.

   “You know what I’m trying to say!” she pushed, believing the trickster option. “It’s too dangerous!”

   “Danger—? What are you—?” Jake stammered, not believing what he was hearing due to not being on the same page. “Did your new size come with insanity, too, or something? How the fuck else am I supposed to get you out of here without touching you? You know you can’t make it on your own. You said so, yourself! Now, come on.”

   Jake attempted reaching for her again, only for Madi to scuttle backward away from his hand and into the thankfully dull edge of the can.

   “I-I know what I said!” she affirmed, not stopping her retreating until Jake halted again. “But can’t you see my reason why?”

   Jake took a couple of seconds to look her over, and, to her surprise, he eventually concluded a truth that Madi hadn’t realized until he mentioned it.

   “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” he guessed, barely making out the tiny girl’s eyes widening and lowering his hand to his side because of it. “Madi, I… I’m not going to hurt you.”

   “Oh, my God, Jake. I’m talking about you hurting yourself!” Before Jake could ask any questions or deny her claim, she continued briskly, not bothering to confront his presumption. “I opened this fucking recalled soda, and then this happened to me. The correlation should be obvious, so you touching it head-on could be just as terrible for you if not worse than me right now, right!?”

   Hearing her blunt anecdote, Jake quickly straightened up, pulling his hands back. He had tried making connections between Madi’s new look and the mess around her, but after hearing it straight from the source, the scene around said doll of a damsel finally made complete sense. Now, he had a new challenge: saving her without screwing himself, too. Luckily, a sight in the corner of his eye on his way to her had burned itself into his mind, and it’d be his luck if what he thought was there actually was.

   There’d be no touching soda. In fact, there’d be no soda to touch. But it’d only work if he found what he wanted, and he’d only know by looking first.

   Jake constructed a plan in silence, leaving Madi to try reading his expressions in the dust. He had always had a bit of a cryptic side, seemingly bothered by the most unexpected things. They all came to be fairly sensible once she had managed to get context – it usually being pointed to one all-too-encompassing reason – but she had nothing here. She had nothing to go off when Jake suddenly directed,

   “Don’t move. Not until I tell you to.”

   There was exigency in his tone, similar to that when he thought someone had hurt her over the phone. With the firmness of his face and how it, itself, was no longer facing her, she knew he meant what he said, and she wasn’t going to press him. Still, being a catalyst for tension didn’t sit well with her, even if that tension was most likely going to help her. Jake may not have wanted her to move, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t speak, still. However, he soon took that opportunity away from her, too.

   Before she could mutter a word, Jake blasted upward onto his feet with his head in the clouds again and zoomed away out of sight. His flowing hairs painted speed lines behind him, and his acceleration nearly toppled Madi over. Though, seeing him build into a tower right in front of her without a care, except doing so to help her, of course, made her legs weak on his own. From what she could tell, she couldn’t even reach his ankles. Hell, his Achilles’ was probably thicker and longer than her, now. But at least he didn’t seem to think of her as less of a person because of her lessened height.

   Aside from juggling emotions sprouted from her watching her tree of a friend walk away, Madi had no time to ponder Jake’s doings before she heard a cacophony of random sounds fill the room, bouncing off its tiles. Water running. Plastics being knocked around. Something being scrubbed or washed. Even if she wanted to ask what he was doing, because she hadn’t the slightest idea, Madi conjectured he wouldn’t have heard her over the noise. It all eventually stopped, though, first blending with each other before gradually softening into nothingness and being replaced by Jake’s returning paces and their squeals.

   Rapid footfalls… and they were speeding up.

   “Mads, I know how you are,” Jake called out over his podiatric drums and what sounded creepily similar to a sloshing, filled bathtub, “but don’t fight me on this, alright?”

   Nothing about his query sounded good, but Madi didn’t have any ideas of her own. Someone, at least, was trying to make moves. She couldn’t put him down for that, and she didn’t.

   Knowing fully well that he couldn’t hear her if he had to yell, she replied anyway. “Uh, okay?”

   Jake wasn’t an idiot, so he surely wouldn’t do something stupid. Her confidence spoke volumes, yet she didn’t get a lot of time to debate that if it hadn’t. In what felt like a split second after, Jake kept his word, giving her the directive that he promised once he passed the locker row before hers,

   “Turn around!”

   She was quick enough to put her back to him just as his treads came to a skidding stop. However, despite all of the lower body strength she had, mostly displayed during floor runs in gymnastics, no amount of sturdiness could’ve blocked what Jake was about to send her direction.

   The moment she thought she would finally remain dry for the rest of the night was dashed as her backside was ambushed by an abrupt rush of a liquid custodians’ closet. The tsunami of cleaners and suds, luckily without an aroma of ammonia, broke her balance, knocking her down into the strong flow and sliding her and every other loose object and substance on it down the row of lockers.

   A minnow trying to traverse a waterfall, Madi soon felt like she was instantly inserted into a scene from one of those video games with a treasure-hunting protagonist doused with quick-time events. Inside the main objective of ‘Don’t drown and die’, there was needing to weave in and out to get away from the massive can halves coming at her like loose guillotine blades and having to grab her still music-playing phone, loose clothes, and the rest of her bag before they got out of reach. By the power of the divine, she managed to re-obtain all her tiny things and put them in front of her to before she made her hard impact with the wall in seconds that felt like hours.

   If she wasn’t composing herself with deep breathing and stillness, then the subconscious fact of the tumbling mat-like buffer of crashing water she met at the wall was the only thing preventing her being permanently paralyzed would’ve been filling her mindscape. That and how hard she was going to ruin Jake from this when she got back to normal.

   Meanwhile, Jake stood from afar with a now-empty bucket dripping the last of its contents onto the floor by his boat-like feet. Empty because he launched the liquid mix much harder than he expected. Getting over the initial thrill he imagined being in a wave head-on like that would be, he soon turned not sure of how to feel seeing his pocket-sized pal being tossed around like a salad. In his caused surge, his goal of the floor and her body being cleansed of the evil elixir simultaneously came to fruition.

   He wanted that, and he got it. It worked. But at what cost?

   Only after throwing the blend did Jake think that it might not have been a good idea to do so, not considering any chance of Madi being poisoned, suffocated, or drowning. He would’ve hit himself for it if he didn’t think that putting the bucket down would’ve endangered her more, so the chastising only came from the inside. Inside until Madi got a voice again, based on how their history ran.

   Baking soda, detergent, a bit of bleach, and water for days. Those ingredients and bits of many others made up the cleanser concoction leaking down the aisle, and it was only a miracle that none of it got in any of Madi’s orifices. Coating her and her stuff, along with the tiles, to loosen and lessen the dregs of vexatious soda was the goal. But to replace it with poison for her was poison to him. Despite the avoided risk, once the spill dried and the can bits were disposed of, it’d be like nothing happened on the floor. Nothing but a living doll and her accessory pack, of course. He just felt lucky that she didn’t appear to be hurt when her white-water rapid ride came to an end. He hoped that his rashness wouldn’t bite him in the ass later, but he was just glad enough that she was alive, wee wheezes and all.

   Madi, on the other hand, sure didn’t feel lively, still catching her breath after a minute, so much so that she again didn’t detect a shadow coming her way, swiftly cupping and wrapping her along with her things within an endless field of fluff. After a few seconds of flailing around, trying to keep track of her stuff including her composure, she realized that she was within a towel Although she was drier now and smelled fresh, whether she truly was or not, she still hoped it was clean and, even more, hyperventilated that she was in safe hands.

   Jake took heed to not be rowdy or rough with such a fragile item – person – in his hands, but he couldn’t hide his excitement and intrigue at the thought of doing so. Nevertheless, he figured that this must’ve been frightening or maddening for her, especially without giving her notice of anything. So, when he thought that he had done enough dampness removal, he hesitated with removing the bends of the towel that shielded her from view, shakily moving her small weight to one hand and pinching an edge of the towel with the other.

   Shaken silly in an enormous encapsulation and put somewhat under the influence of the heat and, unknowingly, the musk its core gave off, Madi had a bit of delirium when her fabric sky disappeared to reintroduce the brightness of a white-light lit room… and her handler within it. When his sizeable silhouette came into view, showing off every chiseled feature and enhancing his already bright, brown eyes and his hair of slightly darker hue, Madi wasn’t confident in whether she was alive, having only visualized people so heavenly in dreams and holy books. Plus, the warm look of awe and security he sent back down to her without saying a word, almost as if he couldn’t speak or she wasn’t worthy to hear his voice, didn’t help.

   Only when he did speak again did she, again, get shaken out of her trance back into the puzzling and perilous reality with her past emotions retiring to be replaced with something new, all from him saying one word through the plush mattresses that were his lips,

   “Hey.”

#g/t #my writing #sideline #giant male #sw #talk no jutsu

[captainchrisfics]

Jealousy

About: Chris Evans and a first person pov reader go to an awards show. The couple runs into her celebrity crush on the red carpet, causing Chris to develop a bit of a green-eyed monster. A heated argument ensues... followed by an equally heated reconciliation. 

Word Count: 2,873

Warnings: language, arguing, and implied/mild sexual content.

Don’t get me wrong, celebrities rarely surprised me anymore. Once you see Scarlett Johansson hanging out in your living room, you just start to get used to it. When Anne Hathaway comes up to you and compliments your boyfriend for his latest film, you think that’s as good as it gets. I thought that too- well, until Ryan Gosling was about an arm’s reach away from me on the red carpet.

“Chris,” I hissed through my teeth as I smiled, trying to draw the least amount of attention as possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan walk towards the next interviewer. My grip tightened on Chris’s arm, pulling him with me. “What’s wrong?” Chris asked, moving his face as little as possible. It was always hilarious- how his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squinted, making his smile look so much more like a grimace on the red carpet.

“That’s Ryan Gosling,” I said like I still couldn’t believe it. Suddenly, a microphone was in my face. “What was that?” an interviewer asked. “Are you a Gosling fan, too?” I usually didn’t like to answer so blatantly, but I was already caught off guard. I tucked a fallen piece of my updo behind my ear and said, “Of course. With his blonde hair and those blue eyes, he’s just gorgeous.” It came out breathier than I intended, but I wasn’t even looking at the camera. I couldn’t stop staring at Ryan, just a few feet away.

“What do you think about that, Chris?” she asked, shoving the mic toward him. Chris cleared his throat, bringing attention to how tense he’d grown. Chris scratched the back of his neck and forced a chuckle, trying to play off how uncomfortable he was. I didn’t think much of it considering he was always pretty uncomfortable on the red carpet. “I mean, she’s still on my arm right?”

I patted his arm, trying to calm him down. It was a terrible joke but the interviewer laughed anyway. She said something about how he might have to keep bleaching his hair even though his Cap contract was up, which Chris laughed at just to be nice. I tugged us away again, hoping we could catch up to my celebrity crush.

Eventually, at the end of the media circus, we ran into him. Well, I did. I had locked in on my target and failed to calculate exactly how fast I was going and (more importantly) how much time I would need to stop. That’s how I all but tackled Ryan fucking Gosling to the ground. As I apologized profusely, he steadied me with a hand on my waist. “Moving a little fast there,” Ryan said, smirking at me. I giggled and glanced away, trying to hide my blush as I offered another feeble apology.

Behind me, Chris cleared his throat. He grabbed my hand, shoving the other in his pocket and puffing out his chest. Chris had this hard look in his eye I’d only seen him have in that Scott Pilgrim movie. Needless to say, I didn’t like it. “Almost lost you,” he said, pulling me into his side. When Chris wrapped his arm around my waist, it felt more like he was trying to hold me back.

“Glad you found me,” I responded. I rubbed my arm out of a nervous habit, feeling a bit awkward. Ryan looked between the two of us, reading the situation seamlessly. He held up his hands in surrender and smiled in an attempt to ease some of the tension. “No worries here man. It’s been nice to meet you both,” Ryan said calmly, taking a couple steps back. Then he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

“The hell was that about?” I asked Chris, all but stomping my foot. I don’t know what brand of toxic masculinity he had for breakfast, but there’s no excuse for being so possessive. Chris sucked on his teeth and avoided my angry stare as he tried to come up with anything that would sound rational coming out of his mouth.

Chris shook his head. “Later,” he said, effectively ending any conversation. In another circumstance, I would’ve pushed him harder to talk, but these events stressed him out enough as is. I could always give him hell later, but right now he didn’t need me to be another problem on his plate. Don’t get me wrong though- I was planning on giving him hell.

Chris was extremely quiet. Usually, after the media fiasco the red carpet offered, he relaxed. We spent events like these making jokes to each other, coping with how crazy all of it was and relishing in the dream we were living. Instead, I sat as far away as I could from Chris without falling out of my seat. His silence was even more deafening amidst the stars around us as they talked and laughed with each other all around us.

His stone face only cracked when he was nominated for an award. All the cameras were on us so we smiled and held hands while the announcers created tension and I hoped the viewers wouldn’t notice our unease. The last thing I needed on top of a moody boyfriend was an internet shit storm.

Chris won and, no matter how annoyed I could be with him, I was overwhelmed with pride. Even in our worst moments, we remained supportive of one another. I always reminded myself that it wasn’t Chris against me or vice versa- it was the two of us against our problem. I stood up almost faster than he did and pulled Chris in for a kiss by the lapels of his suit, hoping it conveyed exactly that. The frustrated crease between his eyebrows hadn’t faded, but that didn’t stop Chris from mouthing an ‘I love you’ in my direction.

I sat down again, watching him accept the small statue as he grinned at the audience. “Wow…” Chris looked at the gleaming award again before facing the cameras. It gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach, thinking about how he seemed so much more relaxed and happier on the stage- like a weight of sitting next to me evaporated despite hundreds if not thousands of eyes on him.

Chris launched into his acceptance speech, thanking everyone involved in the project, his family, and then me. I hated how a part of me questioned if it was just for show. He thanked me for sticking by his side and my first thought was if it was meant to be some sort of jab. I shifted uncomfortably but smiled nonetheless, knowing someone’s camera had to be on me.

I thought closing the front door behind me and blocking out the rest of the world would be a relief, but it was just more nerve-wracking. Neither of us were in the mood for an after party so we came straight home, though I don’t know if we thought this through. Now we were alone and not quite sure where to go from here.

I wanted to yell at him for being such an insufferable, pig-headed idiot. For embarrassing me in front of everyone like that. For shutting me out all night. For even thinking I’d want anyone other than him. I had countless reasons I’ve been coming up with since the red carpet, but it was almost like the air was too thick for such angry words.

We stood in front of the dresser in our bedroom, taking off the glitz and glam and turning into a normal arguing couple again. I mean, how many people got into fights over meeting your celebrity crush on the red carpet and had to wait until after an award show to talk about it? I think we both felt pretty bizarre. “So, are we going to talk or…?” Chris asked tentatively, tossing his suit jacket on to our bed before working on his bow tie.

If it were possible, steam would’ve come out of my ears. That ‘us against the problem’ shit was out the window. “Don’t you dare ask me if we’re going to talk as if I’m the one giving you the cold shoulder, Christopher,” I fumed at his reflection, tugging on my heavy earring probably harder than I should to get the backs off.

Chris, who was still struggling with his bowtie considering I was usually the one taking it off, nearly choked himself by tugging on the left. “I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically. “Is that not how you and Ryan argue? Maybe I could apologize until I turned blue and then we’d kiss and make up. Would that be better?” I wanted to strangle him, but instead, I reached over and pulled the right side of the tie.

“I can’t believe you just went there,” I said, my voice coming out louder than I intended. I began taking the bobby pins out of my updo. Before he’d even gotten his belt buckle undone, Chris shot back, “Trust me, I just went there.” I grunted through gritted teeth, taking out my frustrations with Chris on my hair. He reached over and twisted the pin just right, causing the curl to fall before throwing the clip onto the dresser.

“You’re such a jealous ass sometimes, you know that?” I yelled, sending the last of my pins flying across the tabletop. We made eye contact in the mirror, but I could still see how red my reflection was turning. “Please, tell me about it,” Chris said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. I ripped a makeup wipe out of the package, scrubbing furiously at the mascara and eyeliner under my eye as I assured him I would.

“You are! I’d never even seen Ryan in person before, but wow I find one guy other than you attractive and suddenly it’s the silent treatment,” I said, feeling like my blood was boiling. I was on a roll now. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on that jab about my commitment in your speech! That was a low blow, Chris, especially considering all I did was say sorry for running into someone,” I said as almost every thought cycling through my mind tumbled out of my mouth.

Chris laughed sarcastically, throwing his belt onto the bed harder than he’d tossed his jacket. “Is that what you call it?” he spat. Chris did his best to mock my bedroom eyes, twirling a piece of pretend hair and giggling like a little girl. He really aced his impression of me with some air-headed remark about getting Ryan to bed, but all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.

I threw out my dirty makeup wipes, trying not to pout while showing exactly how unamused I was, feeling the angry tears brimming my eyes. Chris had a look in his eye that told me he knew he’d gone too far. He averted his eyes, focusing intently on unbuttoning his shirt like it was his first time.

“Do you even see yourself?” I said quietly, running out of fire as my rage was replaced with hurt. I tugged at the exceptionally small clip holding my necklace together. Anyone who was at all familiar with those little latches shaped like crab claws knew they required the utmost concentration, which I was lacking right now. Chris moved behind me. I complied with an annoyed huff, lifting my hair out of his way. He had it off in record time, leaving the two of us staring at ourselves in the mirror.

“Do you want him?” Chris asked in a low voice like he was afraid of the answer. My heart clenched in my chest, shocked he could even think such a thing. Still, I crossed my arms and let the vindictive side of me win. “What if I do?” I challenged, failing to convince even myself. I wasn’t proud to admit it, but as I was suddenly surrounded by all of my sadness, I wanted Chris to feel a fraction of it.

Chris closed his eyes for a second and let out a shaky breath before gently grabbing my waist, turning me to face him. Now just inches away from him instead of a few feet from his reflection, I saw how blue his irises looked, exaggerated by the agitated red the whites of his eyes turned when he cried. In my anger and pain, I hadn’t realized how this fight was affecting him.

Chris caressed my face, running his thumb across my cheek. He wiped away tears I didn’t notice falling. Suddenly, with every ounce of passion he had left, Chris kissed me. It was like diving into a freezing pool, filled with the kind of water so cold it shocks all of your senses awake, and coming up for your first gasp of air at the same time. His force sent us stumbling backward until I hit the dresser. I wrapped my arms around his neck while Chris lifted me by my thighs, sitting me on top of the table with a disregard for whatever clattered to the ground to make room for me.

My hands traveled down his torso, relishing in each bump his stomach offered before slipping under the fabric of his open button-down. Chris wrenched his arms, helping me take it off. He nearly tore off his undershirt before diving back into a kiss. I tucked my index fingers in the belt loops of his trousers, pulling him between my legs. Chris tangled his fingers in my hair, moving his mouth down my jaw until he reached the soft patch of skin behind my ear. He elicited a gasp from me as he nibbled gently, testing the waters. The involuntary arch of my back, pressing my body to his as my chest rose quickly seemed to be the encouragement he was looking for.

My eyes fluttered closed as he moved down my neck, stopping to suck on my collarbone. I reached to lay my hands on his chest, loving how the muscles felt clenched under my touch. If I really tried, I could feel his heart beating rapidly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him as close to my hips as I possibly could. Feeling him pressing against the inside of my thigh made me smug, reminding me as I came undone that he was just as affected by my touch.

Chris reached behind me, unzipping my dress. He tugged the top down so it sat at my waist before touching me over my bra. I hadn’t noticed how thin the material was until now when it was one of the only layers between us. I found the button of his pants, fumbling to release him.

Keeping one hand kneading at my chest, he slipped the other up my skirt through the dress’s slit. His fingers toyed with the lacy trim of my underwear, teasing me as he tugged the fabric down my thigh so slow it was almost frustrating. He stopped suddenly and instead traced the curve of my hips up to my chest until he reached my hair again, tangling his fingers in the strands as he kissed me again.

Chris licked my bottom lip and I complied, absolutely at his mercy. He pulled away again before I was satisfied, leaving me right on the edge. He prided himself on making me as desperate for him as I possibly could be until he gave me what I wanted. Chris traveled to my ear again. “He wouldn’t know how to do this to you,” Chris whispered so faintly, giving me goosebumps all over.

It dawned on me exactly how we ended up here. I pushed Chris away, scowling at him. “You can’t kiss me like that and make this go away,” I scolded, half-heartedly angry he’d even tried.

Chris shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding so defeated it almost made me feel bad. Almost. He looked at me with so much sincerity in his eyes. “For all of it. I’m sorry for everything. I was stupid and jealous and shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you so much,” Chris professed, the words tumbling out of him like he’d wanted to say them all along. “It wasn’t cool to try to brush over it like that, but I just…” Chris trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I just wanted to know you were still mine,” he concluded, averting his eyes to the floor.

I bit my lip, teasing Chris as if I even had to think about it. “I love you too,” I grinned so big it hurt, my lips still slightly sore from the kiss. I reached my hand out to his, playing with his long, calloused fingers before intertwining mine with his. “I’ll always be yours. I don’t want you to feel so insecure in our relationship. We’re gonna have to talk about it,” I said, looking up shyly only to be greeted with Chris’s grin. It was so big it squeezed his eyes shut. “Later,” I giggled as I pulled him towards me, picking up where we’d left off.

Tagged: @patzammit

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #imagine chris evans #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #cevans

[muwi-translates]

why u should love sanada fucking yukimura

man, this character... is one of the most lovable otome bois i have encountered in a long time,,, because he’s such a loser.

i wouldn’t even call this a character analysis anymore i just spilled all my feels and love for this stupid wholesome boy. thank you to my two biggest sandman supporters, this is all yuu’s fault. @sea-reiusly @snow--blanket

LET’S START. so,,, aside from the fact that he’s cute-dumb; you should love him because he loves you a lot and he deserves love too.

he is the literal embodiment of boyish selfless love.

if iI had to describe him I would describe him as a big red blanket you can wrap around yourself and make you feel safe and warm. or a big spoon of honey; slightly bitter but also sweet.

1) he is mega Friend for Life

first things first; he would be, and is, a good friend - if not to you then to the people he cares about. his whole concept is ‘boy next door’. he is soft, he won’t disappoint you because he cares about you as a person and he worries sometimes even if he doesn’t show it. for example in Shingen’s route he plays messenger for you - he thinks you’re ‘cool’, you’re his pal. he seems like the type who could develop feelings for you but is content just being close to you as your friend and see you happy. despite being told that he’s ‘tactless’, Yukimura actually, not surprisingly, has the ability to read other people, but just sucks at expressing it to you. so occasionally, he ends up proper advice to other suitors if you’re not on his route:

like the time Kenshin was excited to bring you home with him to Kasugayama and you were torn about leaving the home you’ve come to love and your warlord family. to Yukimura, family and friends are important, that is what one of his 'wants' are, after all. he does it for shingen, he does it for his men and the men in the Takeda army.

in a way he’s a bit like your brother too. except Hideyoshi is the clearly caring, wise older brother and Yukimura is your bratty younger brother who would throw a banana at your face, and pretends he doesn’t give a shit about you but that one time he sees you carrying heavy stuff down the hall he takes it from you and calls you ‘weak’ but he just doesn’t want to see you hurt.

if he's not established to be quite as close to you in other routes (Ieyasu/Masamune), he continues to help you on behalf of sasuke. even though you’re a complete stranger to him and he barely knows anything about you background - especially considering sasuke gave him a coverup story and not what or who you actually are. it's moments like these where he is willing and able to separate 'his job' and 'enemy' and do things that would otherwise produce results the opposite of what he’s supposed to be doing (which is actually a point of conflict in his OWN route, which will I will talk about later uwu)

2) ultimate Fam man

Yukimura is inherently a selfless character. he doesn’t care about himself, he only cares about the people around him and what he can do for them. he overworks himself and shoulders all the stress by himself, to take weight off shingen (it's always 'leave it to me, lord shingen!!' from him). 

I believe he has a mild form of ptsd as well; he mentally and emotionally cuts himself away from feeling anything in battle to perform his best, he has trouble sleeping at night, and he ends up holding things he’s sleeping with very tightly (eg. you). we also learn from Shingen that:

he was raised to be strong and upstanding, but has problems with adapting, so he puts all he has into what he does, meaning he gets hurt more (EN)

when he has his heart set on things, his conviction lasts for a long, long time (CN)

so, he likes it a lot when he gets to surround himself with people he cares about. he comes off as an ambivert leaning on extrovert, based off how he seems to like hanging out with his men not just as their field commander but as their friend, he enjoys parties and even entertains Kenshin. it’s been noted that he is visibly more relaxed and laughs often around his soldiers - so it’s safe to assume he gets energy by being around the people he cares about, because at least he knows that they’re alive.

in fact, the idea of people around him dying makes him angry. he’s willing to put aside his hatred of Nobunaga to ensure that no unnecessary lives are lost, even if he’s sacrificing himself in the process. they all share the simple dream of one day being able to return to their homeland, and Yukimura expects almost all of them to be able to fulfill that dream together.

so when Shingen insinuates that he won’t be able to be there for that, Yukimura gets understandably worried and angry.

okay, so now we know that he's a selfless iron woobie. what else? as stated above we know that he is actually a closet Sensitive Guy(TM). Yukimura is sensitive to his own feelings, at least. he's a Thinker, he thinks a lot and even overthinks. he is a tsundere to himself - because he's hardwired himself to sacrifice other needs and wants aside from the goals he's set for himself. if it’s not something for the benefit of his dream or Shingen or Sasuke - does he really need it?

he clings onto all the light he can hold onto no matter how small for the sake of his dream - it’s literally defined his life, he’s somewhat dependant on using his body to fight for something or someone and that’s why he’s always moving around doing something. Yukimura also respects other people who have a similar mindset (also his highest criteria when it comes to women; he gotta have something to respecc). 

if he didn’t have anything to fight for what do you think would happen? :thinking:,,,, check out chapter 13 of his dramatic route for the answer,,,, it is not pretty :( 

3. 95% giver 5% taker (and only after some self-deprecation)

of course his selflessness also applies to his love interest?? 

even as a lover he's such an adorable loser that makes me want to cry. he is selfless love in the form of a man. he is basically a dog boi. he only wants to take care of you, your happiness is his happiness. he always offers to make YOU happy and not himself first- it's like as long as you're smiling he can keep going, even if he's tired or if he worked all day, he always has time to spoil and coddle you-- if you want all his attention he'll give it to you, no matter how tired or busy he is. in fact, he thinks that its part of the job description, that its his duty to indulge in your desires. even on his birthday, you know the day where HE'S supposed to get something, he goes out of his way to get YOU a present.

the conflict in his route is literally him coming to terms that he wants something for himself, denying himself from his own goddamn happiness. he finds out that you are on the side of his enemies, yet he still wants you because he’s fallen for you - but he tells/forces himself to think that he doesn’t need you after all, because “it wasn’t meant to be” and that he doesn’t deserve you because he brought you to the battlefield. even though he can do exactly what he needs to if you were simply just ‘friends’ or ‘acquaintances’ - the idea of giving himself true happiness by being with the person he loves? nah, fam.

literally the only time he wanted to be selfish for once he slapped himself and said ‘no’. if you didn’t chase after him, the regret would eat at him for a long time, regret that he’ll eventually learn to squash down inside himself and only add to fuel of performing only for others - and not himself.

👏 👏  related analysis: why does he come off as insensitive when it comes to his route? why has he demonstrated that he is actually not Stupid but is also a butthead to you?

answer: defence mechanism - he thinks women are bothersome because they cry. and when women cry he lacks the confidence(?) to use words to comfort them. they embarrass him, he’s a tsundere, he only says things truly from his heart under Very Specific Circumstances where he is completely vulnearable and open (like pre-spice or... some angst situation).

so instead he just falls back to being selfless like he normally is. all he knows is how to care about other people, carry their burdens and wanting them to rely on him. that's why when you're upset at the festival, he just keeps shoving food at you instead of asking 'what's wrong' and going off on that. because his mind is literally just thinking food = good = makes people happy = ok, let's do that then. that's also why he'd rather you be angry than sad. sad is bad because he doesn’t know how to deal with bad except being physically intimate - pretty sure Yukimura would rather die if he had to hug every crying woman he ever encountered.

conclusion: he’s just a lost, lost boi who doesn’t know how to comfort people so he sacrifices himself and puts others ahead of him using actions - he pampers, he lets people vent out on him, the works. what a fucking wholesome loser who needs to love himself for once.

👏 👏 end of insensitive boi in love analysis

there’s a part of Yukimura that is actually a bit insecure. it's odd because he’s usually so confident in himself, and so proud, but he’s also so self-deprecating? under that tough boy exterior is just a boi who wants to be loved. he wants someone who will be there for him and support his stupid ass. he uses himself to hold up everyone else's burdens, but sometimes there's nobody that might be able to do the same to him. he wants someone to come home to, when he's stressed and wants some loving because otherwise he'd hole up his emotions and explode-- if he didn't have Shingen and Sasuke there with him.

his route sort of expresses the fact that Yukimura has never experienced a ‘mature love’ before, or a love where he imagines a life together with them. crushes, probably at some point in his life. sexual experience? how can he not have any??? but mature love? questionable.

these moments are few and far between because its not explored quite as much, but when they do...

he says things like "don't leave me, i'll prove that i'm the man for you." (bitch doesn't have to prove jack shit, he literally radiates with Care and Love) and “I need you”. he just doesn't want you to disappear on him. 

why’d you think you decided to leave without telling him? bitch would fucking fight the sky to keep you with him.

he's scared to lose you because he's finally found someone who is willing to accept him and taught him that its ok for him to be selfish for once and do things for his own sake and his own happiness. what he wants most is to just come home and eat food with you together. every encounter with you is precious to him because you rarely see each other. he wants to spend time with you. he doesn't like it when things cut into plans that seperate the two of you- but he doesn't mind it if plans didn't run as expected as long as he still got to spend the day with you. even if he's busy, he lies to go out with you to do things that YOU want. 

he’s finally come to find some happiness outside of work and outside of how he already copes - that alone is special to him, whether you end up as his friend or as his lover.

so basically:

you should love this guy bc he is mega Lovable and radiates warm Energy,,, he will always care about ur dumb ass one way or another.

#ikemen sengoku #cybird #ikesen #ikesen yukimura #Sanada Yukimura #by the way i fucking love this loser a lot #if you couldn't tell #i stan him so much #he deserves so much love #big loser muscly boi

[benscursedkid]

9, 10, and 12 for Olivia asks, please?

thank you for asking! hope this doesn’t disappoint!

***long post ahead, still no computer :((

9. What was her relationship with Jacob?

Well, I like to see my Jacob as not having had any romantic feelings for either Duncan or Olivia. He liked to call them his platonic soulmates. The three of them were truly best friends and they all made a good team. They were a well oiled trio and each of them cared for each other.

Really, to put it simply, they were best friends. The boys always went to her when they needed advice and Jacob was very fond of her. He saw her as a bit of a sisterly figure for him and actually reminded him a lot of his own. They’re also housemates, so they would always lounge together in the common room when they had down time and Duncan happened to be busy. They didn’t really bother anyone seeing as Jacob was well-liked among his peers during his school years and Olivia was a very polite person. But they were known to goof off and mess around every so often. The professors hated having both of them in the same class, let alone the ones they shared with Duncan. It was practically impossible getting them to focus some days. They were the jokesters of their little group and were very comfortable with one another. They’re the type of friends who people would probably think are dating... and then get disgusted when they realize they give people that impression. Jacob is rather tall, especially compared to her, and always liked to tease her by hanging off of her or draping his long limbs across her lap or shoulders. They love to get lost in their own world together, as Duncan really isn’t one to indulge in his imagination and could spend hours having existential thoughts and bouncing what if questions off each other. But they’re also quick to console and reassure one another when one of them is down and very protective of each other. Very caring and loyal friends, but first years might not always get that impression as half the time they’re just teasing each other and trying to have the last word.

However, this Olivia was absolutely the type to tell it like it is. She’s not one for sugar-coating things and she values honesty in others so she likes to give it in return. She definitely got onto him when he started behaving erratically and didn’t give him any excuses. Honestly, I really don’t think I can stress enough just how close they were and how much they meant to one another. He would do just about anything for her and she’d gladly do the same.

10. What was her relationship with Duncan?

So, I decided to take the teeniest, tiniest page out of JK’s book— I know, I know, but hear me out —and considered adding a bit of a romance into this trio. And while Jacob Roberts would make a good match with both Duncan and Olivia, I didn’t really want him to have feelings for either of them. Now, I’m personally not a Romione fan, but I do rather like the trope. I am weak for f2l, so...

I can see them starting out as friends at first. Where Olivia and Jacob almost never shut up when they’re together, Duncan and Olivia are either perfectly content just sitting in silence and enjoying each other’s company or bickering like an old married couple and will not stop until one has gotten through to the other. But they never push or disrespect each other’s boundaries and make sure not to say anything that might offend the other. And if they do think they’ve crossed a line, they’re quick to apologize and make it up to them. But they like debating with each other as they typically have different opinions on most things. They learn and challenge each other while also being able to remain who they are. Olivia is able to help him step out of his comfort zone without pushing him past his limits and is respectful of his boundaries. Duncan is good at listening when she has things she wants to say and ideas she wants to share, even if he doesn’t quite understand, and can also bring her back to reality if she starts to wander too far. Things start out really casual and it’s comfortable for them.

Though, after spending all that time together, Olivia comes to admire his ambition and dedication, and surprising loyalty to her and Jacob. She begins to appreciate the little moments when he can relax and forget about the vaults and when he feels comfortable enough to crack jokes. She also loves to shamelessly flirt with him, just to see him stutter, all blushy and cute. And she absolutely loves when she catches him humming as he studies or when he’s making a potion or doing research. Her favorite moments to admire him are when he’s completely unaware and just content to be himself. He’s rather grumpy and introverted normally so she loves it when he doesn’t feel the need to keep himself guarded. He’s interesting and I think that’s what drew her attention initially. And while those feelings were repicrocated, they spent so many years too afraid to admit it and just continued to dance around each other, avoiding possible rejection. In the end, they didn’t get anything more than one kiss before he died and she went missing. It was one of their biggest regrets and they can both attest to that.

12. What was her role in the trio?

Personally: Olivia is a very good mediator. Her personality is a good middle ground between the boys. Jacob Roberts is a very independent, head-in-the-clouds kinda guy. He knows when to stop and think things through, but he can get pretty distracted and side tracked sometimes. While that normally isn’t a problem with the vaults, because he’s so committed to this search, often times the opposite becomes true. He’s been known to get tunnel vision and overwork himself and his friends if left alone long enough, especially when they’ve hit a snag. Duncan, on the other hand, is normally very single-minded and logical and for a wizard he’s very much in the mindset of “seeing is believing”. He sticks mostly to facts and what he knows to be true. But he can, every now and again, get frustrated if it takes him a while to make progress in their search. And, really, this usually isn’t much of a problem between them, as their strengths and weaknesses balance each other out without clashing. However, there are a select few times where they catch each other at the wrong moment— while Duncan is frustrated and in need of a break and Jacob is persistent and tries to push him a little harder than what’s probably necessary —and Olivia is needed to calm them down. She’s whimsical, free spirited, and ambitious enough to understand where Jacob is coming from in these situations, but also responsible, open-minded, and generally practical in her thinking to be able to consider Duncan’s view and his feelings on the matter. But when she gets into an argument with one of them, she usually just adheres to the “if you don’t have anything nice to say” policy and takes time for herself to calm down. It typically doesn’t take long for Jacob or Duncan to come to their senses and reach out to her first and when that happens she is quick to follow with her own apology. Even so, while Jacob is the mood maker of their trio, Olivia is good at indulging him and his ideas and thus breaking Duncan a bit out of his shell, while also not pushing him past his limit and taking time to do things that the other boy enjoys as well and grounding Jacob when the need arises.

Business: When it comes to their search for the vaults, everyone has their own jobs, but sometimes they can overlap. Duncan, for example, does most of the “super secret work”. If they need something to get in the vault, to use against whatever is inside it, or getting out, he’s your guy. He is adept at potions and fairly competent in other areas such as Charms, and Tranfiguration. However, while he scores very well in the class, he lacks a bit of field experience when it comes to DADA. But he is eager to get better and he tries his best to be a Jack of all Trades and serves them well as their strategist. Jacob, does a lot of the research. If there’s a clue to be deciphered, something missing in their puzzle, information that needs to be discovered, he is all over it. His ability to consider every possible scenario, even the unlikely ones while still having the common sense to know when he’s heading down a dead end makes him very efficient. Him and Olivia also will team up from time to time to do reconnaissance or to talk outsiders or people who are getting too close to their secret activites down and dissuading a potential liability. Despite his generally whimsical personality, he’s extremely good at reading people and controlling a situation when it gets out of hand; doesn’t buckle under pressure and he’s a good duelist. Olivia, also happens to be very skilled in martial magic, but she tends to do better when dealing with multiple people while Jacob is more efficient in one on one combat. Olivia works as the trio’s collector. If Duncan needs a material he doesn’t have on hand? Olivia can steal it from Snape and face the possible consequences. If that’s for whatever reason not an option, she’s the one making the trip to Knockturn Alley to apprehend it. Someone stole something or happened across one of their clues? She’s on it and it’ll be on your desk within the hour. She’s a fairly pleasant person and while Jacob is naturally friendly and charming, he can be a bit loud sometimes so they send in Olivia instead, just in case.

^Of course this all changes when R gets involved. Suddenly everyone is more on edge and prone to start fights and much quicker to snap or accuse. Normally they are able to recognize their mistakes and rectify the situation, but sometimes it takes Jacob longer now that his sister’s life is on the line. And without his friend, Duncan gets moodier and more stubborn when giving out his apologies. Olivia also gets frustrated with them faster and will sometimes refuse to help them compromise if it takes too long. She’ll leave them to their own devices and be done with it, wait for them to own up themselves. And Jacob, for his part, slowly begins to act irrationally, even for him, the longer R is around and the more involved they become. He’ll hide his research from them, over analyze Duncan’s work and sometimes redo it (even if it ends up worse), and do recon without Olivia. He eventually even ends up doing her job himself altogether. He becomes more mistrustful and paranoid of betrayal and of their work being revealed. He suddenly becomes insanely and scarily perceptive. He studies them and their tells, their habits and what makes them tick– what makes everyone tick for that matter. He loses his trust in his professors, his peers, and eventually them as well. It takes both of them a while to admit it to themselves, but one day they wake up and realize that they don’t recognize who he is anymore and they’re not sure he even knows who he’s become and that just breaks her heart. He was her best friend.

And that was her last thought of him before she disappeared.

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