#gotta sneak a selfie somehow.. right?!

[rebouks]

Better turn that flash off, Brynn..

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #fib #fib extras #wyatt #brynn #ellis #gotta sneak a selfie somehow.. right?! #🤭

[andysbubba]

beginning, middle and end

-> the one where heating chicken soup takes 20 minutes… for chris

ultimate fluff because i miss chris ://

here’s a quick fluff fic because i also really wanted to get something out

-h

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

—

“Mr Evans. Has anyone ever told you that you have such a beautiful ass?” You point out because well— he does have an amazing ass and it’s your job to remind him of it every damn day.

Chris sighs, half turning to look at you before he shakes his head almost in disbelief. “Sweetheart, I’m losing count on how many times you’ve said that this morning.”

You simply grin as you sneaked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, cheek pressed against his bare back. “Just doing my job to make your pretty ass feel appreciated, honey.”

“Your job—” He turns slowly in your embrace and firmly placed his palms on your shoulders before pushing you back to the dining table. “—is to stay here, wait, and look sexy while I try not to burn that damn chicken soup, okay?” He pointedly eyes you while pushing you down to sit.

“Christopher, you can’t burn soup.” You groan shrugging his hands off so you can stand, only to get pushed back down. “Chris, I’m seriously fine. I don’t feel sick. I don’t even feel like eating,”

“Hey.” He softly flicks your forehead making you whine and rub the spot while he just laughs at you. “C’mon, whatever I say goes, okay? Just let me take care of you. Plus— the last time you ate was yesterday afternoon, and your temperature’s still pretty high, honey.”

You frown, deciding to just settle down and make the poor man’s life easier. “Can I at least have apple juice, please?”

Knowing Chris, he’d probably take half an hour just to heat up the soup. And really- he only has to put it in a pot and bring it to a boil. God knows how your husband never fails to mess that up.

With a sigh, Chris steps to the fridge for the bottle of your apple juice. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if I’m actually married to a kid…” He passes the bottle over to you.

“Sometimes I wonder why I married a guy who can’t cook.” You retort, snatching the bottle and sipping away on the straw.

Chris placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning down and leaving a kiss on the top of your head. “20 minutes tops. Promise.”

“That’s what you always say, Evans.”

Chris snorts, deciding to just ignore what you said. He goes into the kitchen and befor ehe actually startes ‘cooking’ he turns around and makes sure that you aren’t plotting anything. His lips curl when he sees that you’re just staring down at your crossword book with the butt of the pencil resting on your lips. Chris discreetly takes out his phone and snaps a picture of well— you.

Completely unaware of your husband antics and armed with your crossword book and apple juice you somehow decided to mute Chris and his clumsy ass out.

_

"Baby-"

Chris stops in his words as he catches you dozing off. He chuckles softly, watching your shoulders move the slightest bit as you breathe, the side of your face pressed against the crossword book and your fingers wrapped around the bottle of apple juice.

He glances at the clock. Well at least for once, he did stick to the 20 minute limit to get the soup heated. It’s a shame you’re busy drooling off to witness his new achievement.

Chris softly sets the bowl on the table, lips curling into a smile completely filled with adoration as he looks at you. He pulls his phone out, tapping on camera app and quickly snapping a picture of you sleeping. He slips the phone back just as quick as he got it out. Chris gently pries your fingers away from the bottle, trying his best not to wake you up. Though that was the easy part. He has no idea how to carry you from that damn position without being too much of a nuisance to your slumber.

He slides an arm right on the underside of your knees, the other tucking just around your shoulders. He carries you up as gently as he could, holding you close to his chest as he silently walks to the bedroom.

You stirred in your sleep, almost scaring Chris. But you just wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him closer and pressing your face into his chest.

He just lets out a breathy laugh, loving how you paid no mind and somehow just went back to sleep. Chris sets you on the bed, pulling the covers over you like he usually does.

Just as he makes sure you’re comfy and turns to leave, you absentmindedly cling on to his arm. “Stay wimme,”

Chris lets out a louder laugh this time. “You’ve been awake this whole time?”

“Maybe if you bothered to mute your phone and not wake me up with the shutter,” You retort, eyes opened just a tad bit. You tug on his hand. “C’mon just stay till I go back to sleep.”

Chris obliges and climbs in right beside you. His arm stretched out as he pulls you right into his chest. “You still gotta eat when you wake up, honey,” His fingers run through your hair, gently scratching your scalp.

You hum in reply, nose nuzzling into his bare chest as your eyes starts to close. “Congratulations on heating it in under 20 minutes, by the way,”

You feel his chest rumble with laughter before Chris leans down and presses a kiss on the top of your head. “G’night, sweetheart.”

It took a while before your breathing slowed down. Chris shifted slowly to pull his phone out, this time remembering to mute his phone before he taps on the camera app again. He flips to the front camera and angles it so both of you are in frame. He taps on the shutter once, getting the selfie he wants. It doesn’t even matter that the picture was pretty blurry. Everyone will just blame it on his phone being an iPhone 6s instead of blaming his shaky hands.

Chris goes on Instagram, the whole process even more delayed with how he’s just using one hand to tap on the screen.

-

[picture 1] [picture 2] [picture 3]

chrisevans Beginning, middle and end of dragging out the simple action of heating chicken soup.

tagged: y/nevans

--

As always! Reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated, my loves! <3

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #cevans #cevans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans fan fic

[ramp-it-up]

Sundancer

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Some pictures, Angst, Pining, drinking, explicit language, oral sex (female/male receiving), love fluff. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​ from the 100 smut prompts ask list. I got caught up with this one because I went back to the Show Runner AU.  I kinda love these two.  Hope you enjoy. Read Show Runner.

-------

This press tour was going to be all work. No play. 

Those were the strict rules that you were given.

This was the premiere film and television festival and January in Park City could be a fun, wild place and time, but you were on the clock. 

There would be no open flirting, touching, or even covert fucking while the cast was there. 

You listened to the lecture and smiled and nodded when appropriate.

Truth be told, you really weren’t paying attention, just waiting on your knees, naked and wet, to suck the shit out of his dick. 

When he gave you permission to of course.

You were determined to suck all those stupid ideas out of his brain along with all his cum when he gave you the chance. 

And Rafael was, indeed, without much coherent thought when you were done.

_____

Wednesday 

That conversation was of no consequence to you four days later when you landed in Park City. 

Daveed and Rafa had been there for two days and the rest of the cast was trickling in. 

You gathered your bag while answering a few questions from the paps and headed to your hotel alone, following the driver who held your name up outside baggage claim to a luxury suv.

You texted Rafael that you had landed, to which he just replied, “Good.”

No, ‘how was your flight,’ nothing. 

You sighed, assuming he was busy. 

He had been texting you nonstop for the past three days and now he wanted to play you. 

That was cool.

You relaxed as you took in the snowy scenery of snowy Park City. 

You were taken to a stunning tiny little chalet at the edge of the city and halfway up the mountain. 

The views were spectacular, the cute cozy kitchen fully stocked, and the fireplace was bomb.

As you took in all the antler decor, you texted Rafa again, hyped at the accommodations.

This is dope!

You made sure your cleavage was right in your v-neck sweater and took a selfie of you from above in the bedroom. 

I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.

You saw the thought bubbles, but no response.

Cool cool cool. 

If that’s what he wanted. That’s what he would get. Ice.

You shook your head and looked in the refrigerator for water. You also found your favorite snacks. 

Production thought of everything. You’d thank Gwen later.

You relaxed on the couch until it was time to get ready for the mixer. 

The car was ready to go at 6:45, in time to get you fashionably late to the Television mixer at the Waldorf Astoria at 7.

Because of all the traffic, you didn’t arrive until 7:30, but you were chilling. You spotted your crew immediately, partly because they were the loudest. 

You loved this new family you made.

“Ayyyy! What’s cracking! We thought you’d never make it. Late flight? You want a drink?”

You laughed at Daveed, seeing that he was on his way to getting lit.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” 

He raised his cute ass eyebrow at you. “This grown folks shit. You sure?”

“Yes. I’m grown. I need to catch up to you! I misjudged the time to leave my chalet. What time did you all leave yours?”

“Ummmm. I walked downstairs like 20 minutes ago. The whole cast is staying here. You’re the only one staying on the other side of town.”

“Oh.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Daveed turned to go get your drink.

You looked around and saw a lot of actors you’d love to work with, some you already had, and some you knew to stay away from.

You spotted Rafa’s golden hair on the other side of the room. 

You weren’t going to go after him, and you didn’t need to, because some of your cast mates enveloped you and Daveed brought you a drink.

You were having too good a time to worry about Mr. Artistic Integrity.

You two circled the room, never really ending up in the same place. You finally saw him with Gwen and got a chance to talk. Rafa saw you approach. He nodded.

“Hey, Long time no see. You make it in ok ?”

You looked at Rafael for an extra beat. He’d seen you up close and personal three days ago when you’d ridden his face. 

But you were an actor. You could play this game.

“Hey Casal. Yeah, I got a few hours ago.” 

You turned to the logistics producer. 

“Gwen! My chalet is so dope!”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

“That’s great! So, you wanted peace and quiet and away from the rest of us, ay?” Gwen laughed as you and Rafa smiled politely. You were seething. 

“Trying to avoid all the parties. I get it now, although I thought it was weird that you declined accommodations.”

“You know our girl, always a loner.”

Rafael took a sip of his drink, looking at you over it. Your blood boiled but you turned and smiled at Gwen.

“Yeah. On my INFJ shit. What’s the lineup for tomorrow?”  

You made small talk to avoid cussing Rafael the fuck out. He stood there for a minute, listening and being an adorable muthafukin asshole. 

Other people came up and you didn’t even notice Rafa step away. But you spotted him, in a corner with that little twat Ava with the tight little body. Just his type.

He saw you stalking out of the mixer as he chatted her up.

—-

Two hours later, you were cozy in the hot tub, smoking some kush to relax, scrolling your phone. 

A TMZ post from your explore page caught your eye. 

There was a picture of Daveed, next to Rafa and Ava, who looked pretty close and fucking beautiful together. 

The gossip site gushed over the picture of the Bay Boys, noting the ‘adorable couple’ and their mingling at the mixer and somehow sneaking in a not so subtle hint that they were staying at the same hotel.

That was the final straw. You saw it all. Rafa wanted you far away from him while he fucked this little miniature Bratz doll. Bet.

It was only midnight. You were going to get your own plastic action figure for the night.

——

Thursday 

The next morning, you met up with the crew at the suite which was set up for the series press day. 

You went straight to Chelsea who was set up in the bedroom of the suite.

You gave her a hug and took off your sunglasses. Your eyes were puffy.

“Damn girl. You did have fun last night. I got just the thing for those circles.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and let her work her magic.

You emerged ten minutes later and went and got something to eat and a bottle of water from the catering station set up in the kitchen. You watched D and Rafa charm the interviewer. 

You took a deep breath. You could do this.

Ten minutes after that, you find yourself sitting in a chair with the cast lined up, somehow seated next to Rafael.

As the first interviewer was setting up, you got comfortable in your chair. Being a professional.

“I see you had fun last night.”

You looked over at Rafael as if surprised to see him there.

“I’m sorry?”

He smirked at you.

“I said it looks like you had fun with Michael last night.”

He held up his phone and you squinted at a post of you and your new friend, a highly sought after actor who had been in one of Rafa’s favorite movies. 

The pic was from after you went back out to the club last night. You were hugged up close.

You looked in his eyes and saw that he felt some kinda way. He had some fucking nerve.

You smirked. 

“Yeah. He’s really truly a dope person. Not just beauty, but brains too. I love an intelligent man. We… talked all night.” 

Rafa’s smile slipped. You sat back and put on a megawatt smile for the reporter.

The entire day was filled with your secret shots and animosity toward Rafa. 

You couldn’t wait to talk to him in private and tell him not to call your cell phone ever again.

Reporter: “This show has many complex relationships, and you are at the center of two of them that are just developing as the series begins. What do you do to ease into a new relationship?”

You leaned back and crossed your legs.

“That is a great question. Let’s just take an example of, say, meeting someone at... a club?”

Daveed leaned in front of Rafa and said, “This is not a true story from last night by the way.”

“Of course not,” you quickly replied and winked. Everyone laughed, everyone but Rafa.

“What I’ve found recently that works wonders is: ‘Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.’”

Everyone was dying laughing.

Rafa choked on his water. You leaned over and patted him on the back. “You good?”

He just glared at you. You shrugged and kept it moving.

“No, but really. You should start off in a relationship where you can be open and honest. There’s really no relationship if you can’t have that.”

Rafael cleared his throat, but you refused to look at him.

The press day continued.

After eight hours of interviews, you were ready to get out of there, so while Rafa and D were playing host, you managed to get out and to the car. 

You were exhausted of the tension.

On your way to the chalet, Rafa texted you.

‘We need to talk.’

You huffed. Now he wanted to talk. 

Well, tough shit. 

You blocked his number. 

You couldn’t function like this right now. You and him could break it off next week in LA. He was right, you were on the clock.

That night at the Midnight showing, you sat with Michael. 

Might as well try to have some fun. The paparazzi were snapping lots of pictures with you two.

While Mike took a quick interview, you made your way to the bar alone.

“You’ve not answered any of my texts. Or my calls.” 

You rolled your eyes at Rafael.

“You’ve texted and called?” 

You shrugged and took a drink.

“Look. We can do all that back in Cali next week. Gotta keep it professional here, isn’t that the deal?”

You downed your drink and walked back over to Michael, Rafael boring a hole in your back. 

He left you alone after that.

——

Friday

The next day and night were much the same, a cast interview and screening of two episodes during the day and another industry party at night. 

Rafa being so busy made it easy to stay away from each other.

You got back to your place with a bottle of tequila about midnight. 

You were flying out the next day and you should have some fun, even if it was not what you’d envisioned before you arrived in Park City. 

You hated Rafael Casal. 

But you refused to cry. Again.

An hour later, you looked up from your drunken haze to see Rafa standing over you. 

He looked so damn good in this dream.

“You shouldn’t drink a whole bottle of tequila in a hot tub, especially alone.”

“What the fuck do you care? You’re probably fucking Ava ten ways from Sunday right now.”

Dream Rafa raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head.

“Why would I want to fuck Ava?”

“Right? Especially when you could have all this.”

You stood up, almost falling and showing off your wet, naked body.  You giggled as he appreciated you, his eyes sweeping down your body.

Dream Rafa moved closer to you and grabbed your hand as you wobbled. 

“Let’s get out and get you some water.”

He helped you out and wrapped you in one of the huge white fluffy robes that you’d found in the closet.

He led you to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

You drank, your head clearing, but just a bit.

You kept staring at Dream Rafa, who was regarding you steadily, a weird look on his face.

When you finished, he walked you to the bedroom and watched as you lay down. You looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 1:30 am.

You opened your robe and turned to see Dream Rafa in bed with you.

“How convenient. I’m so so horny Dream Boy. Haven’t had any dick since last week.” 

You untied the robe and grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples, arching your back.

Rafael watched you hungrily.  

“Help me to get off. Fuck me, Dream lover. The real Rafa doesn’t want me anymore…”

You moved your hand down to your core and started playing in it, moaning and watching Rafa watch you.

As he licked his lips, you brought your hand up and let him taste the wetness on your fingers. He hummed, then took your hand in his.

“Not like this. I want you. Fully present and clear headed. But I want you. And we need to talk.”

He kissed the palm of your hand and covered you with the robe again.

You groaned and turned away from him.

“Even the Rafael of my dreams reject me? I can’t believe I’m in love with such a jackass.”

You didn’t feel Rafa pull you close as you started shoring.

—

Saturday

You woke up alone, mad at the sunlight. Your head was pounding. 

Your mouth was parched, but you found a bottle of water on the bedside table. 

You grabbed it, grateful that you got it on the way to the bedroom last night. 

As you sat up and drank, you groaned as you thought back to your dream. 

You had to get him out of your system.

You got up and went to the kitchen, halfway expecting to see him there. 

You sighed with something that must have been relief when he wasn’t there. 

You took your water and some grapes to the little kitchen bar and sat there, eating and drinking slowly with your head in your hand.

You jumped when you heard a key in the front door and stared when Rafa let himself in. 

“Look who’s up. Bet you’ve got a doozy of a headache.” 

You just continued to gape as he put his bags down on the counter. He handed you a bottle of aspirin.

“You’ll need these.” He put some pedialyte in front of you. “And this.”

“Wait. Did you just let yourself in? With a key?”

“Yeah. This is my chalet. I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“I thought you had a hotel room.”

“I do. This is business so production put the cast up there. D and I decided to join.”

Your heart clenched at the fact he did not want you there too. What was this reality? Then you thought about the dream.

“Wait. Were you really here last night?” 

You were confusion.

Rafa smiled at you. 

“You want something to eat? Gotta get something in your stomach besides tequila and grapes.” 

You groaned and held your head at the realization that last night was not a dream.

“Fuck. Did I say all that? Did I do all that? Out loud?” 

You peeked at him through your fingers.

That smile. “Yeah.” 

You were mad. He looked to fucking happy. 

“Well, don’t take it personal. I was zooted. When I’m sober, I hate you Rafael.”

He frowned. “Are you sober now?”

You opened the bottle of aspirin and drank some pedialyte. 

“Unfortunately, yes. Very sober.”

Rafa moved next to you.

“I’m going to come closer so I don’t have to yell.”

He tipped your chin up with two fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with a fucking brat.”

You were ready to fight.

“I’m a brat? I’m a BRAT?” 

You leaned back, your hands on the counter behind you to get some space from the electricity bouncing between you.

“You ignore me as soon as I land in the same city as you, and then you put me out here in this secret hideaway so you can fuck with that Ava chick.” 

You closed your eyes because you’d be damned if you cried right now. 

“I thought we agreed that we’d talk to each other before we tired of each other and got with other people?”

Rafa leaned close to you, caging you in with his arms on the counter beside yours. 

You could barely breathe, the emotions were getting the better of you. You just wanted to kiss him.

“Who told you that I fucked Ava?” 

This time you raised your chin on your own.

“No one had to tell me. I saw the pictures of you two together. I can read, Rafa.”

“Not very well in this situation, I’m afraid.”

Rafa shook his head and looked down. Then looked back up at you with those damn eyes.

“You also don’t listen. Did you even hear what I said? I just said I love you.”

You just stared at him.

“Wait… what?”

Rafa brought his hips closer to yours, standing up tall. You wanted them on you.

“I love you, you fucking brat. Why would I want Ava when the woman I love has all this.”

And he reached for you, opening the tie on your robe. He sighed as he moved his hands on your brown skin. He was home.

“I want you to listen. Listen before you jump ahead and try to argue.”

You were about to say something and clamped your mouth shut at his warning glance.

“I told you, this was work. And we agreed not to go public with our relationship yet.”  

He saw you wanting to protest.

“We agreed.” 

His hands spread against your stomach, thumbs on your warm nipples.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was controlling myself. I wanted to meet you at the airport, but the paps are swarming.”

Rafael's blue eyes were now dark.

“And I didn’t stash you away because I wanted to fuck Ava, but because this is my home and I wanted you in it.” 

Rafa finally kissed you, and you took his tongue in your mouth, wanting to own a part of him.  Your moan while you kissed was getting him even harder.

“And when you sent me that picture of you in the bedroom, I wanted to run over here and take you in every room,  but I couldn’t. Still working. Just had to jack off when I could. To that picture.”

You moaned as his words made you drip down your thigh.

He pressed his pelvis to you and you could feel how hard he was. You took a ragged breath and forced your hands to remain on the counter. 

But you looked up into those burning blue eyes. You were wet and ready.

“It was killing me knowing that you were so close, sleeping in my bed without me, naked in my hot tub without me, and that I couldn’t touch you, hold you. Fuck the shit out of you. Hear you scream my name.”

“Tire of you? God, I wish I could get tired of you. I want you all the time, I can hardly function when you’re not around.”

He kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. You were definitely weak.

“I was coming over that first night, but I saw you going out. To the club. Where it seems you hooked up with Mike.” 

Rafa bit down on your pulse point.

“Rafa, I…”

Rafa licked the spot he just bit. 

“Shhh. I know you didn’t get with him, but you were a bit of a bitch at the Q and A day. And then you took him to the midnight screening.”

Rafa was appraising your body possessively now.

“You tried to make me think that you were with him; that he was touching you like this.”

Rafa grabbed your breasts and squeezed your nipples between your fingers. You arched into his hands.

“It was like you were teasing me.” 

His hands moved down your torso and around to your ass, squeezing and pulling your cheeks apart and ghosting your intimate parts with his fingers.

“You know I don’t like to be teased.”

He released you and took two steps back, leaving you feeling bereft.

You were panting in the middle of his kitchen. You felt what it was like to be teased.

“Rafa, I’m sorry. Please…”

Rafa was two steps ahead of you. He was pulling his Oaklandish hoodie over his head. Then he shook his head at you.

He bent his head to your breast as he lifted it roughly to meet his lips. He drew your hard bud between his lips and grazed it with his teeth. 

Rafa nipped and sucked your flesh roughly as he licked the fingers in his other hand and reached between your legs.

“Did you want Mike to touch your cunt like this?”

“No...only you Cash…”

He traced his fingers between your wet lips, causing you to shudder and moan. Then he started to tease your clit.

“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you love me.”

“I..I…” You didn’t know when it happened, but it did. “Fuck it. I love you Rafael.” 

You sigh in relief and with desire as he pushed his fingers deeper into you.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pressed you back against the island.

“Good girl. Now tell me more. Tell me you love what I’m doing to you right now. Tell me you love this shit.”

“I love it so fucking much,” you squeaked, holding on to his shoulders for dear life, your nails digging in.

As he pumped his fingers, you wriggled and started to grind against his hand. As you wriggled more, he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck! Stay still.”  

His tongue licked up and down your neck as his hand went faster and faster, playing you like an instrument.

You were getting so close, and Rafa could feel it. So he stopped and stepped back again, panting while he tasted his fingers and leaving you quivering and emotional.

You refused to beg, but he knew what you needed.

“I want to punish you for not listening to me and your heart, but I can't because I’d be punishing myself.”

He walked toward you again, put his hands on you and slid down your body as he knelt before you.

Rafa looking up at you like that made you fall in love all over again. 

He leaned forward and kissed your lower lips oh so tenderly. Then, he licked them, and you had to hold on to the counter again. Then he started talking.

“I’ve been hard for you ever since you texted me that you touched down.” 

He kissed each of your thighs and lifted one up and rested it on his shoulder. You were not ready.

“I was so pissed off all day. Until I saw you that night.”

Rafa lightly licked a long stripe between your legs.

He pulled back and looked at your pussy, as if entranced.

“But, I stayed away from you at the mixer because I knew I would drag you to a bathroom and bend you over the sink…”

Rafa slowly rolled his tongue over your slit. You held your hand over your mouth as you watched him.

He looked up at you and chuckled. 

“No close neighbors. Let me hear you.” 

He sighed as he looked at you again. 

“I wanted to take you in the bedroom at the suite during the press day and put your ankles around your ears to dig out that attitude.”  

Rafa licked you again, making you tremble and moan loudly.

“I decided to come and give you an ultimatum last night, but I get here and you were so cute and drunk and said that you loved me.”  

He graced you with a smile. You smile back and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I know you said that I don’t own you. But you own me. Body and soul. I’m starving for you.”

And then he dove in, making you gasp as he eagerly parted your lips with his tongue and started to flick it back and forth over your clit, grasping your ass and your leg to support you and keep you in place.

This time he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and swiped, his head moving back and forth as he ate. He did it until your eyes rolled back into your head and you were screaming his name. He increased his pace and intensity until you were a quivering, moaning mess. 

You come on Rafa’s face in the middle of a ski chalet in Park City, Utah.

You were still quivering as you watched him stand up, take off his shirt and wipe his face with it.

“So, you can take your flight back to LA in a couple of hours, or you can stay until Monday and we can be seen together tonight. In public.”

Your face lit up as he led you to the bathroom. You were catching on.

“And we will be ‘good friends’ for a few weeks until we let on.”

“Now, you’re listening.” Rafa was smiling wide now.

“Wait, does Diggs know about us?” Rafa started taking off his pants. You needed what was inside.

“Nevermind. I know the answer, Jackass.”  

You ignored Rafa’s laugh as you began to make up for lost time.

-------

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[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plizetsky x reader)

(part five)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(One week later)

He groaned, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes even after breakfast. The sun was annoyingly bright today and the crowds chatting along the streets became a loud buzzing in his ears. They walk along shore at a smaller street where the typical fisherman has been standing, even years from now since Yuri saw him last. With a face mask up to his eyes and his hoodie up, it also came to be exceedingly hot underneath his disguise. Sweaty again.

In front of him walked Yuuri and Victor, sheering for him to hurry up meanwhile Victor snapped some photos behind his head on him and (Y/n). 'A selfie to remember' he said. Though the sour face of (Y/n) was far from something anyone would like to remember. Terrifying.

Right. Why? Yuri didn't exactly hit it off at its peak this morning with (Y/n) as his roommate. The cold shoulder hitting him like a slap in the face grew even larger every time he tried talk her back to normal state. A 'what's the matter with you? Stop being a drag!' Wasn't gonna get him an answer so far. Though, Yuri found himself surprised that he even made an effort into talking with her in this mood. One week with her and he's already softening up? Not great. He can't treat her as if she isn't a stranger to him, nice or not. Even if she always came at the late ending hours of his practicing at the rink and greeted him with a late snack after training. Star-shaped apple slices and a smoothie. He found it weird the first time and he still does. Every morning and every late evening because Yakov happened to mention that apples were Yuri's favorite fruit.

And this morning? Maybe he could actually admit that he screwed up. It probably could've gone better if he hadn't stolen Magnolia from her... Long story short, she was asleep with the cat in her arms and Yuri sneaked out a makeshift toy to lure him over. (Y/n) quickly noticed that Yuri was now the person cuddling the cat and she tried to call him over for his morning brush with a happy chirping sound. But Yuri had held Magnolia still when he tried to go until the cat was like 'meh whatevs' and went back to sleep in Yuri's arms. He knew now afterwards that it was already a little bit much to hold the cat back but the worst part wasn't past yet. No. The worst part was when he said 'He wants to be with me, not you, you clingy hag' and 'Maybe if you weren't so stubborn and tacky all the time he would be sprinting to you this moment instead of cuddling with his savior.' When she hadn't responded well to his words some unknown force told him to push it harder. So kept on pushing at her limits with spiteful manners and comments. He can't really understand why he'd said that now afterwards. All that came out meanwhile Yuri was still half asleep from past day's exhaustion, and he hadn't yet realized that he probably should filter the way he talk to his coach, nonetheless the,, he wouldn't say idol,, but- Nonetheless the acquaintance she is. Though he couldn't stand her. How itching and irritated he felt whenever she made her own sour looks. Isn't she supposed to be happy sunshine or what? Just get over it already, it was just an insult anyway.

But it was clear that (Y/n) took the insult to heart and has been doing so since then. At breakfast, he had received a bowl of starshaped cut apples put down harshly in front of him at the table. That along with blueberry pancakes. Why she was the one making breakfast, he didn't understand. But it had certainly not been unbearable to eat. No the opposite really. The entire Katsuki household was there along with them and everyone had been gulping it down like starved hounds. But the thing really throwing Yuri off was the fact that his appleslices were the only ones being but into starshapes. Just that she took the extra time even though or because she was upset at him?

Yuri gazed at the girl's direction as he thought of the event. 'So very unnecessary' he thought. Was it some twisted joke he didn't quite get or a revenge he didn't see coming? Because except for the apples, she had been totally snappy with him since they left for the unknown adventure Victor had described it as. And she wouldn't really have made that extra effort out of kindness judging on her mood today.

(Y/n) was very keen not to glance at him just one bit this morning since that breakfast. And when Yuri made a huge deal out of it afterwards, Victor had took him aside and whispered into his ear; 'There will come days where she won't put up with your bullshit anymore and today seems like such a situation. I don't know what you did to cause that reaction because it's quite rare. But I recommend you lay off and let her cool down on her own.' His words had been a sense of advise with a hint of bitterness in it.

Just minutes later he had gathered us four and announced that he would be taking them all somewhere to cleanse our minds and gather our thoughts. He hadn't really understood why all four would go there but that's when (Y/n) decided it was time to announce a pretty important details she almost withheld from him until now. Apparently the entire reason they chose to do this whole coaching in Japan was because she had taken Yuuri as her apprentice as well. It all seemed relevant of course. Why else would Yuri be here right now and not with her back in Russia? But it made him feel uneasy and let down for some stupid reason. Why she apparently thought it was much more important to teach Yuuri than him since they were in Japan right now. He's always gotta be the favorite even though Yuri won gold and proved himself to be better than the piglet. Victor already chose him. And clearly (Y/n) did too. But she made him believe that she came here only to coach him.

He didn't understand anything. He didn't want her coaching, didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She wasn't a real coach even. He certainly didn't want to share a room with her and he didn't want to feel relieved at the sight of her at the rink yesterday, coming to his rescue like that. He just wanted her to stop talking so much but now he couldn't stand the silence she was giving him.

Couldn't she just get her shit together?

"Ta-daaa! We're here!" Victor's shout made Yuri snap back to reality at the beat of a second. It took him a moment to understand the building the man was waving towards but soon he remembered the experiences he had there.

"No- nonono! I'm not going through that hellish session again. No damned waterfalls and no hitting me with a stick!" Yuri turned on his heels but was grabbed by the collar of his neck by a pouting Victor. (Y/n) who was clearly new to the subject gave Yuuri a hesitant look but Victor wasn't going down.

"Come on, it will be great for everyone. And I promise no hitting this time!"

'This time.' He didn't believe it one bit. He knew it was just an attempt to get him through the doors. Once in, no turning back. But if there was going to be hitting, he was secretly hoping that it would not be (Y/n) as the one doing it.

"Still no. There's no way you're getting me through those doors! Never am I ever standing under a waterfall again!"

...

The rapid flow of the water forcibly threatening to push him forwards was as cold as he remembered it. Screw the hitting with sticks, this just felt like someone rapidly slapping him across the back over and over. At least the water could've been warm. What was the deal with that anyway? He knew exactly why going here was kept a secret from him. They would never have caught him if he knew before. Now Yuri is standing in the middle, unable to escape. A quiet but intimidating (Y/n) who hasn't spoken up for hours and Yuuri who seems to actually be taking this whole thing seriously. Then there's the big question. Where is Little blondie Rasputin in the picture. The answer is right in front of him in a corner of the other side of the room. In a bubble bath taking it easy. He said that he'd be making sure we'd concentrate on opening up our minds and he'd tell us if he noticed otherwise. Yuri believed none of it. He just doesn't want to be here himself. Cause why was (Y/n) doing it if both the coaches aren't in on it. She's already in touch with herself and doesn't need it. Part of him guesses that she was participating on her own terms for some reason.

'This isn't working. I'm literally standing here thinking about everything and anything until time passes!' He thought. And...

He made the mistake of looking to his right. (Y/n) was standing close beside him with closed eyes. He was going to close his eyes as well but then he noticed how soft her skin looked. Like, all the wrinkles caused by her constant grumpy face were flattened out. Her mouth hung low and her lips were slightly parted. That made him notice her slow breathing making her chest rise and fall in a nice rhythm. Even though the water hitting his scalp shouted angrily in his ears, he was somehow able to here her melodic breathing. She was doing this the right way. And she looked completely relaxed. Almost asleep.

He kept on listening to her breathing and prayed that she wouldn't open her eyes right this moment. If so, she'd probably have realized right away how long exactly he had been staring at her.

He brushed it off and adverted his gaze, closed his eyes shut. It wasn't anything more than that. He had to get to know her at some point and her striking eyes were always too intimidating for him. He would always look away to feel less stripped of his soul in front of her. It was almost the first time he really could study her features up close, and without her knowing. (D-Did that sound weird-? anyway.)

He couldn't see her anymore but her light breath could still be heard. A part of it made Yuri think of music when he listened to it. He'll focus on that. Mach the breathing to his own.

Everything she did held a steady rhythm to it, unintentionally probably. The music was so much more than just the beautiful voice she had, but it consumed her entire being. Maybe that's why it felt so real on stage.

Does he have to let the skating consume him too? What if he loses control of what he's doing? Starts doing a different choreography or hits the wall again? What would happen if he just let go?

"I think we're done for today. Great job guys! You too Yuri!"

Well, he would never find out because he could never let that happen. Ever. If he doesn't hold control, then what does he have.

Yuuri and (Y/n) came back to reality and stepped out of the fall. Yuri followed short behind and watched the droplets of water running down the back of the girl in front of him. Her shoulders were much less tense than before they begun their session.

'If she thinks she's her to help me let go of all control and fly off the surface of the earth, then I'm sorry. For your coaching will have been in vain.'

...

Yuri was the last one out of the showers and was alone in the locker room as the piglet had already finished before him. He put one the clothes he came in since he came unprepared and set off to the main entrance. To his surprise, he found (Y/n) leaned against a nearby wall just outside the path leading the separate changing rooms apart. 'She's been waiting for me?' She still looks stern but this time Yuri's directly hit in the face by it. She's not ignoring him anymore. Her eyes are as piercing as always but not with excitement or content as usual. Yuri has to turn his head. The feeling's too much.

He walks beside her this time as well. Not a few feet behind like the way they came here.

Victor's tall back was seen outside the building through the glass doors and the two of them headed out. Yuuri was there too but they weren't alone. A large crowd of screaming teenagers as well as adults were swooning over the two skaters. Reporters and journalists were at the front struggling to ask the pair questions meanwhile guards from the center nearby held them all back. At the corner of his eye (Y/n) was turning slightly pale of the sudden screams that roared as they arrived together. As soon as Yuri was noticed the same reaction came for the second time and he joined in on the surprise. His first instinct was to run and hope none in the crowd ran faster than him. But is seemed like (Y/n) sensed his intentions before he did. A firm and calming hand was placed upon his head and as what- a warning? A threat? He looked at her and she smiled. Not to him, but to the crowd.

"Is that (Y/n) and Yuri Plisetsky?"

"Yes! But why are they in Japan? And together?"

"Aww look! They look so cute together!"

A couple pictures were taken of the two of them and Yuri was as stunned by the girl's hand as well as her warm presence towards her fans. He was even too caught up to snap her hand away.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Yuri YURI! What were you doing in there with the Aubade duchess of (nationality)?" Duchess? Right. One of her many titles created by her fan base. It's pretty funny. Why a duchess? Why not a queen or an empress? Yuri wasn't the one to complain though. He was called the Russian punk.

"(Y/n), any reason you're in Japan? Any hot news you'd like to share with us?" The woman asking leaned over the fighting arms of the guard and winked playfully at the two of them. He saw (Y/n) getting visibly  uncomfortable at the suggestive question and she stuttered, trying to come up with something smooth and contained for the reporter to use in her article. Yuri was just pissed off at how rudely this woman got all up in their private life like that. He felt like it had been put upon (Y/n) as her responsibility alone to answer that and that just made him angrier.

But the back of the tall Russian male hiding him from camera views stopped the salty defensive words he almost spit out.

"Of course! It's about time to announce anyway. On the behalf of myself and Yakov Feltsman, we're proud to announce that (Y/n) (l/n) will spend her time in Japan as coach for our competing skaters; Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki, in their preparations for this year's Grand Prix senior division!" Victor's worlds were happily announced to the audience and the next moment all hell of a screaming mess broke loose. The reporters rushed sideways to call their firms about the news and the guards almost failed to hold the fighting fans at bay. It all was a mess already. It went from being super private and secretive to Victor dropping the act without warning and soon the whole world would know in just a couple of minutes.

Shit.

A/N; Aaand another chapter! I have so fun writing these and it's almost like therapy session for me too:') no waterfalls though. It seems like Yuri's starting to warm up to (Y/n) right? Well... Baby steps;) What do you think will happen in next chapter? Let me know what you think!

#yurio plisetsky #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yurianime #yuri on ice #yuri on stage #yuri plisetsky x reader #victor nikirofov #yuuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #animelove #anime fanfic #anime icons

[dalygrace]

🔆 + [post] college au featuring @catherinedaly @evcravens @katarinadvpont

“Grace! Mamma wants a picture to make sure I got here okay and didn’t die en route!”

Catherine’s voice floats from the living room into the kitchen where Grace has her head in the fridge, looking for the bottles of wine Katarina had put in there to chill. She grabs the first one she sees (Kat can come back and get a different bottle herself if she wanted something specific, she thinks, swiping the corkscrew from the counter) before sweeping into the living room and depositing herself onto the couch beside her younger sister. Catia’s face is flushed from the two glasses of wine she’s already consumed, and Grace laughs as she fumbles with her phone for a moment before finally taking a selfie. Grace knows she’ll likely get a scolding voicemail from Simona before the night is out for the wine in her hands and Catia’s clearly buzzed state, but she’s happy, so she doesn’t care.

“Are you going to open that or just let it get warm in your hands?” Mikael asks, slouched in the armchair opposite her, and Grace laughs again, deftly uncorking the bottle and pouring him a glass. “For you, m’sieur,” she says in her snootiest sommelier voice, the one she’d perfected  those long nights in college when they used to mix something awful for each other and have a guess at what was in it, an exercise in masochism on both their parts that left them more often than not hating themselves the morning after. They’d grown since then, matured to real cocktails and wine that came in bottles instead of boxes (Thank god, Everett had exclaimed at the sight of real Italian wine, last year when they’d all gathered to christen Mikael’s new apartment in Jersey), and Grace’s liver thanked her for it.

“It’s Italian,” she says before Everett can ask, pouring three more glasses and pushing them across the table to their intended recipients. “Kat put aside her homeland snobbery just for you tonight, so we can indulge in your homeland snobbery to celebrate you finally deigning to grace us with your presence.” Mikael roars with laughter as Kat and Ev make twin faces of affront and Catia sneaks Grace’s glass off the table, taking a big sip before Grace can snatch it back. “That’s the last glass for you, drunky,” Grace says fondly, “You’ve gotta be with it when Papa comes to pick you up later or else Mamma will start thinking Kat and Everett are bad influences.”

The two in question pull faces again, and Grace settles back onto the couch with her new glass of wine, smile so wide it hurts her cheeks. 

She loves nights like this, family and friends gathered in the living room, when the house is full of laughter and conversation. The brownstone she shares with Katarina is warm and spacious, always kept tidy (Grace) and packed with art and photographs of their mutual friends (Katarina). They have a spare bedroom that they use to house the rotating cast of characters that come through New York, because despite only being in their mid-twenties, having a six figure salary (Grace) and coming from a long line of successful stock brokers (Katarina) means they can afford to live somewhere that isn’t a shoebox, exorbitant rent be damned. Its most common occupant is Mikael, despite the fact that he lives only a short train ride away, because he always whines about how annoying New Jersey Transit is and how cold it gets in the winter. Grace, who grew up in the City, thinks he’s full of shit; then again, he’d spent his whole life in Southern California before moving east after college, so she supposes he gets a free pass for the first few years of real winter.

Sometimes she wonders how they all ended up like this, living in each other’s pockets. Everett and Katarina had met first at an orientation for international students; then Mikael had crashed in, a fortuitous roommate pairing; Lillian came next, trailing in Katarina’s wake, and the four of them became MikandEvandKatandLil easily in the first months of freshman year. Grace, down the hall in Reiber and two rows back in econ classes, was an outsider to the fearsome four, too snarky to fit right in, raising hackles with her quick anger and the drinks she kept accidentally spilling on Everett. Ironic that that’s what brought them together in the end, she thinks, sleepy and warm, before excusing herself from the room.

It’s strange, she thinks, basking in the glow of their laughter as it follows her down the hall to the bathroom, that they all stayed together, relatively speaking. Lillian was off being beautiful somewhere in Europe (she’s in Paris, Grace knows, but she still instinctively pushes down the knowledge of the kind woman with whom she never quite clicked, a sequelae of having pushed down for years the frustration over whether she wants to kiss her or be her, a crisis she’s become more comfortable with since it first started in sophomore year) but she visits as often as she can; Everett was still in Boston, a godsend for Grace’s mother’s nerves as Catia settled into her first year at Tufts (Simona can’t quite handle being an empty nester - it doesn’t matter that Grace lives an easy ride away on the NQR, with Regina fucked off to Montreal for most of the year and Catia in Boston now, Simona is struggling to adjust to not having them all at family meals again like they had been once Grace came back from UCLA), but he too made the pilgrimage to New York with some regularity. Mikael was practically a third housemate. They’d muddled through important years together, through good ideas (vandalizing USC and using an unassuming Everett as the getaway driver) and bad (Grace’s brief affair with Rafaella, a beautiful but flighty exchange student; Mikael’s everything with Lucrezia, a Kappa a year younger than them all who’d moved back to Chicago after her graduation and summarily dumped Mikael over text when she was introduced to a player for the Cubs). Something expands in Grace’s chest as she looks at herself in the mirror, bright and warm and painful in the best way, and she has to sit for a moment on the tub to catch her breath. She leans against the wall, tired and overwhelmed by all the love she holds, and she doesn’t notice the minutes slipping away until the door opens with a quiet click.

To Everett’s credit, he doesn’t startle when he sees Grace, only makes an appraising noise and moves to the sink. Grace, head fuzzy with wine and sleep, does at the sight of him, and smacks her head hard against the tub. She groans, long and low, and Everett laughs at her, the bastard, before stripping off his shirt. “Not that I’m not enjoying the free show,” Grace says with a joking leer, “but why are you rinsing your shirt off?”

“Catia spilled her wine on me,” Everett says evenly, running the bottom of his shirt under the tap. “Must be genetic,” Grace mutters, and he laughs again. 

“I still don’t believe all those times were accidents,” he says, wringing out the shirt as best he can. “I’ve never seen you be clumsy around anyone else.”

“They really were,” she whines, clambering out of the tub to perch on the edge. “It’s not like I was purposefully trying to ruin the godawful number of polos you owned.”

“Really? All of them?” He turns from where he’s hanging his shirt on the towel rack to raise an eyebrow at her pointedly. “Even when an entire bucket of punch somehow went from your hands onto Castora and I all through the second story window senior year?”

“And she never forgave me,” Grace says solemly, and Everett only shakes his head with a bemused smile.

“We thought you all went to sleep without telling us.”

It takes her a moment to process the change in topic, but her mouth has always been quick on the draw, ready to spout nonsense until her brain catches up. “I only disappear mysteriously from parties that I am not hosting,” she says, “and this is, regrettably, my house.” She yawns, listing forward from the rim of the tub with enough force to alarm Everett, who easily catches her and pulls her to her feet.  “That begs another question,” he starts, bemused, “of why you’re in the bathtub and not, say, your room, where there’s a real bed?”

“Going to bed while you still have people ‘round is admitting defeat,” Grace says haughtily, though the effect is somewhat ruined when she almost trips going out the door on the hallway runner. She rights herself before Everett can steady her and flashes him a placating smile as she turns pointedly back towards the living room, where the rise and fall of Kat’s voice and Mikael’s laughter can be heard over the humming of whatever music Catherine’s put on the stereo. She’s only made it a few steps before Everett is in front of her, turning her around and shooing her back towards the stairs. “I just found you half-asleep in the bathtub,” he says pointedly, boxing her in as she tries halfheartedly to push past him. “And most of us are sleeping here anyway, so it’s not like you need to make sure we all leave without stealing your things.” She gives in with a frown, too tired to argue, overwhelmed by the nearness of him, the warmth he radiates, the sudden urge she has to latch on and not let go.

“Why do you do that?” He asks as he corrals her up the stairs, interrupting the low grumbling she’s kept up all the way down the hall. “What?” She replies brilliantly, caught up in her false irritation and the effort it takes to not trip up the stairs. “Sleep in the tub,” he continues, to which she stops on the top step and shrugs, full body. “Dunno,” she replies, truly uncertain of where that particular quirk came from but now painfully aware that this is not the first time that Everett has come across her asleep in a tub. Once is an anomaly, twice is a pattern.... She can’t quite figure the rest of the thought and instead flings herself onto her bed, loose-limbed and nearly asleep by the time she’s horizontal.

She looks up to see Everett leaning against the side of the doorframe, soft smile playing over his lips. She smiles in return, warm and open and real, and pats the bed beside her. “C’mere,” she says, rolling over to make space for him beside her. Grace closes her eyes as he closes the door, and she feels rather than sees him settle onto the edge of the bed, perched as if he wants to take up as little space as possible. She cracks her eyes open to level him with a withering look. “It’s okay, Mr. Chivalry. Let your hair down. Relax, take off your shoes and dive in, the water’s fine,” she quips stupidly, too tired and buzzed to filter herself. She’s suddenly aware as she rambles that this is the first time he’s seen her room since their freshman year at UCLA, all three thousand miles and seven years away from where they sit now. He’s been to her house before - to her apartment on Levering after their tentative friendship blossomed into something real; once, notably, to her parent’s Upper East Side apartment the summer after their graduation where he’d charmed her father with his talk of his Harvard MBA courseload and her mother and sisters with his insistence on making dinner to repay them for allowing him to crash on their fancy and entirely uncomfortable couch for a night - but never in those times did he come close to entering her room, a strange and sacred space. He never visited her in the shoebox of a studio she kept for the hell of it in Alphabet City that first year, too busy in Boston to do more than catch the Amtrak up for a weekend once or twice every few months. Grace, who had been pulling hellish hours in the office to prove to herself as much as her superiors that she was worthy of a promotion so soon into the job, saw him for an hour at most when he did make it up, safely tucked away in the dark corners of pubs that Katarina and Mikael kept locating in various parts of the city.

It is strangely intimate now, having him in her space, seeing the emptiness of the pale blue walls, the way each thing had its place and no mess was allowed to exist. This was where her fastidiousness for work was echoed in her personality; there was no room for her trademark wildness here.

“Just lie down,” she says finally, after they’ve sat a moment too long in a silence that’s toeing the line of discomfort. “Or walk down two flights of stairs to the guest bedroom, I don’t care.” With a shrug, she flops onto her back, closing her eyes again. She hears him type something (obvious by the quiet click of his iPhone keyboard because he has his ringer on, the maniac) and set his phone down on the bedside table, feels him settle beside her a moment later. She waits a beat before reaching out to tangle her fingers in his.

“Grazie per aver guidato Catia qui e prendersi cura di lei a Boston,” she mumbles sleepily, feeling him tense lightly at the language change. She likes that he forgets sometimes that she grew up speaking Italian around the house, likes that she can still surprise him by volleying his native tongue back at him. She saves it for moments like these, just the two of them, but tonight it feels different and the aching love in her chest feels different too. Tonight Italian feels like the hushed French she can hear from Katarina’s room every night when she talks to Lillian, devotion bridging the hours and miles that separate them. Tonight, sono contento che tu sia mio amico feels a little like I love you. Everett’s hand in hers is warm.

“È facile. Non c'è niente di cui ringraziarmi. So quanto eri eccitato di vederla.” The bright thing expands in her chest again.

“Sono felice di vederti anche io,” she mumbles.

“Lo so,” he says, smile evident in his voice, and he gives her hand a little squeeze. Grace grins stupidly at the ceiling, warm with pleasure and the gentle weight of Everett beside her, and falls asleep.

#featuring blink and you'll miss it reference to castora and also a complete slaughtering of english grammar #this baby's got two of the longest sentences ive ever written and it's chaos #have some functional adults who love each other #spray our dreams on any surface where the paint will stick | au #one whole life recorded in disappearing ink | drabble #I will walk down to the end with you if you will come all the way down with me | everett [past] #you're the last best thing I've got going | katarina #seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright | mikael #what will i do when i don't have you / when i finally get what i deserve | catherine

[avmisworld]

BTS as your older brothers:

Kim Seokjin:

An Overprotective mom

Stays up all night when you go out to make sure you get back home safely

Scolds the shit out of you when you come back three quarters of a minute late

Might refuse to make food for you as a punishment

Which is actually the worst thing he can do

Your personal chef

You come to him whenever you're hungry

Can make edible food from a leaf and a cup of water

When he is cooking is the only time he is serious

Dad jokes 24/7

Occasionally he'll have a really good/stupid one that'll just make you start snorting

And that'll obviously trigger Jin's laugh

Which trigger yours all over again

Your parents sometimes rethink their life decisions

A dramatic bitch

Gets all offended if you forget to do something he asked

Will start shouting and throwing hands smh

You're so done with him half of the time

Is the type of crackhead to follow you on a date wearing a fake mustache and Hawaii skirt to make sure that the guy is keeping his respectful ten feet radius from you

Is soft for you on the inside

Shows it to you by going out to dinner with you whenever you're both free and bored

He pays all the time like the rich brother he is

Cooks you your favorite food whenever your sad

He loves you a lot♥️

Min Yoongi:

Most of the time you forget he exists

Usually sleeping or eating when he's home

He doesn't talk to you much

So you two alone could be quite awkward

A lot of stupid fights and silent treatments that usually end with you saying sorry first cause you gotta make progress somehow smh

But is low-key high-key protective and will kill anyone who hurts you

Whenever you're sad or something he'll very subtly comfort you (no skinship tho)

Gives you really good old man life advice to make you feel better

Pretends to be annoyed when you come to the studio to pass the time or check up on him.

But he secretly loves it when you come through the door with your cheerful smile and snacks

A thoughtful brother (although he tries not to show it)

The type of bro to go out to eat and bring you back a Big Mac saying it's leftovers lmao

listens to everything you say attentively even when he doesn't look at you or respond to you

Still says it's "a lucky guess" when he buys you the shoes you've been rambling about nonstop for your birthday 😍😂

Jung Hoseok:

You two get along really well

Jhope makes you feel like there's no age gap between the two of you

So loud and unfiltered that you sometimes pretend not to know him when in public

Tells you everything and rants to you about his daily life and problems

Encourages you to do the same and constantly sticks his nose in your business

Who is he? Since when is she your friend? What day is the party?

The type of brother to eavesdrop to all your calls and surprise you later with the information he gathered

But he doesn't limit you at all and isn't really overprotective

Trusts you with closed eyes so he'd be super disappointed and confused if you were to break that trust

He's your number 1 hypeman🔥

Will probably support you and cheer you on if you decide to become a dog food taster lmao

Dance competitions in the middle of the night in the living room

The person to go to when you're sad

The type to have tissues and Ben and Jerry's close by as if he was waiting for you to come to him

Hugs you when you're sad uwu

Is your personal fashion designer so you'll probably go to him when dressing up for a date

Buys you expensive clothing brands for your birthday

Kim Namjoon:

The sibling that all of your parents' intelligence went to *sigh*

The ideal older brother

You go to him whenever you want to rant about something because you know he'll listen while also giving you his own opinion (which is 99.9% of the time right)

You encourage him to come talk to you as well but regret it continusally when he starts highly philosophical conversations with you that you understand only 0.0559% of

All of your school projects and homework go through him before you give them in, guaranteeing you a straight A😏

You would prefer him just doing them for you but "homework helps you improve Y/N"

The type of brother to feel second hand embarrassment whenever he's with you in public and just smile down fondly while hoping the ground somehow opens up to swallow him

Feels awkward when it comes to skinship but will still rub your back or hug you gently when you're sad uwu

Always knows exactly what to say to make you feel better

You always go to him when you want to do something your parents disagree with cause you know they trust him blindly and will listen to anything he says

Takes you to the new coffee shop that opened down the street and takes aesthetically pleasing pictures of you

Let's you poke his dimples

Introduces you to the BTS members and let's you hear all the songs he's composing at the moment

You're so done with him breaking your stuff so you ban him from your room lmao

Park Jimin:

The type of brother to act like your boyfriend

All your friends have crush on him (including your guy friends lol)

Sometimes you feel like he's younger than you because of his clingy and cute behaviour

The type to cuddle with you in your bed when it's 700° outside while ignoring your complaints

Can talk with you for hours on end about the silliest stuff

Whines like a baby when you don't give him enough attention

"Y/N! Stop doing your homework and talk to me!"

Despite his babyish acts, protects you from all the bad in the world fiercely

Gets super serious when it comes to your health and safety uwu

Loves when you wear his clothes so he send piles of his hoodies and t-shirts to your room

Fights with him always end with both of you crying and starting another fight over who says 'i'm sorry' last

Has a shit ton of photos in his phone of selfies of you two and photos he took of you

Calls you 'baby' and 'cutie'

Hangs out with your friends when they come over to yours and steals all the attention smh

Buys you random stuff just to make you happy

Always smiling around you💞

Kim Taehyung:

Your best friend as well as being your brother

Constantly pampering you and kissing you

The members know all about you cause he just won't stop talking about you

Loves to spend time with you and makes sure he always had a few hours spare a week to do so

Asks you to teach him to cook and gives up after you try to explain to him how to operate the oven

Teaches you how to fake cry so you can use it against your parents

Forces you to join him in his ever-changing hobbies (you will never forget his soap carving period)

Constantly throwing helpful yet occasionally hurtful comments about your style

Helps you redeem it by buying you clothes (from Gucci ofc) and going shopping with you

Snaps pictures of you at the most random moments

Shoots you a stank face when you say you look ugly and ignores you

Your Kakao Talk is full of his own memes that he sends you and more meme-worthy selfies

Wakes up in the morning to walk you to school just so he can talk to you

Calls you whenever he can when he's away and recaps everything that happened to him up to that second

Both of you live on talking with each other so you hardly fight

The type of person who has the ability to get you excited over a ladybug

"Isn't it adorable, Y/N?"

You understand him best (and yet he still manages to surprise you)

Jeon Jungkook:

Your enemy slash rival

Competes with you on everything

"I can wash the dishes, mom!" "Lol, I can wash them better"

Unfortunately, he's good at everything so he usually wins whatever competition he makes up

Probably beat your ass continusally during your childhood

Roasts you mercilessly smh

The type of brother to sit with you to see a movie without telling you it's horror and laugh his ass off when you fall off the sofa during the jumpscare

Has a folder in his phone filled with ugly photos of you in case he needs to black mail you

Joins you in watching K-dramas and the two of you cry together throughout the whole episode

Low-key cares about you alot

Will make you food in the middle of the night when you're hungry

You always go through him before doing anything because you'll be dead if you sneak out of the house without telling him and getting his permission

Helpless when you're sad

Will go to all of his hyungs for advice on how to make you feel better without making it obvious he loves you

Helps you when you're not good at something cause he is for sure

Refuses to believe you're not a kid anymore and gets emotional whenever he thinks about how much you two grew up uwu

#bts jin #bts jungguk #bts fic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts jungshook #bts jimin #bts jeon jungkook #bts joonie #bts rm fluff #bts tae tae #bts tae x reader #bts vante #bts seokjin #bts suga #bts y/n

[doc-pickles]

it’s nothing funny just to talk (p.4)

What happens when you text that random number graffitied on a bathroom stall in your favorite bar? Jo Wilson is about to find out. - In which Bar Princess and Doctor Evil Spawn meet via text.

Final chapter before the epilogue!!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this :)

“Oh shit!”

Jo sighed inwardly when she heard April’s exclamation. She had been anxious since she had woken up and it hadn’t stopped all day. Jo had tried more than once to calm the frantic bride, but that only made April more upset. Her wedding day anxiety coupled with her week long torment of Jo, Steph and Maggie had driven Jo to sneaking gulps off her hip flask when April was otherwise occupied. 

All three women all turned around to look at April, who was rummaging around her luggage in a panicked frenzy. All of them were still in pajamas getting ready, April had curlers in her hair, and only half of her makeup was done as she ran around the room. 

“What happened,” Jo asked as she walked up to her friend and grabbed her shoulders to stop her in her tracks. Force was the only way that Jo would get any answers from her friend. 

“My pearl necklace is missing. I think I left it in Jackson’s room,” April rushed the words out, her breathing unsteady. “I’ve gotta go get it, it’s my something new!”

“No, no, I’ll go get it, you can’t see Jackson yet,” Jo directed April to sit in a chair as Steph began to work on her makeup. “I’ll be right back.”

Jo walked out of the room, a relieved sigh leaving her as she exited the tense situation. She thought about calling Alex, but she knew that if she was gone too long April would send Maggie and she really didn’t want to deal with her right now. 

Nonetheless, Jo missed Alex more than she cared to admit. She wondered what he was doing on vacation, if he was thinking of her too. As soon as the reception started later, she would sneak away and call him. And take some tasteful selfies so he could appreciate her figure hugging red bridesmaid dress at a later date. 

Her bare feet padded down the carpeted halls of the hotel as Jo made her way to where Jackson and his groomsmen were getting ready. She was hardly dressed to see anyone, wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, but she figured that the men Jackson worked with wouldn’t care. At least she had already finished her makeup for the day so she didn’t completely scare them off. 

As she rounded the corner towards the hotel room, Jo saw one of Jackson’s groomsmen, jewelry box in hand, heading towards her. A grin spread on her face as she rushed forward, almost halfway down the long hallway. 

“Oh you’re a lifesaver, Bridezilla here was about to lose it! Thank you, thank you!”

The man paused about 20 feet from Jo, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at her. Jo stopped as well, thinking maybe her untamed hair or frantic expression were throwing him off. She hadn’t seen him the day before, meaning he was Jackson’s best man who had missed the rehearsal dinner for a work emergency. Maybe he just thought she was crazy running around the hotel like a madwoman. If only he knew what April looked like right now. 

“I can take that back, she’s been ki-”

“Bar Princess?”

Jo’s eyes widened as she stared in shock, taking in the man standing in front of her. She would know that voice anywhere, and she assumed that he had recognized hers as well. 

This was the person who had been texting her for weeks on end! He was much more attractive than she had pictured, even in his plain white shirt and boxer shorts. His sharp, stubbled jaw line and piercing gaze made Jo scream internally. He was more than hot, he was downright handsome . Alex stared at her with a bewildered grin, not even flinching as she squealed loudly and ran towards him. 

Alex, for his part, caught Jo with ease, picking her up and holding her close as she peppered his cheeks with kisses. The peel of laughter he let out was uncharacteristic of him, but he couldn’t hold back the joy he felt as he finally held Jo, the woman who had somehow worked her way into his heart. 

“Oh I can’t believe it’s you,” Jo looked at him for a moment, her hands holding his face tenderly before he leaned up and crashed his lips to hers. Jo kissed back greedily, the jewelry box falling from Alex’s hand as he moved it up to tangle in Jo’s hair. She finally pulled back with a grin,her eyes sparkling as she stared at Alex. “You kept your promise.”

“Jo! Stop making out with random people,” Jo and Alex both looked towards Maggie, who stood with her hands on her hips as she stared them down. She tried to look stern, but the small smirk that appeared on her face gave her away. “April is going to freak out if you don’t get back here.”

Jo looked back to Alex, leaning in to kiss him once more before jumping out of his arms. She quickly grabbed the necklace he had dropped, squealing when his hand reached out to slap her ass. 

“Alex!”

“What? You said you’d put out tonight,” Alex laughed as Jo slapped his arm, the two bantering as if they’d known each other for years. Alex slid his hand down her leg and grabbed the metal flask strapped to her hip. “It’s not even noon, I know this means she’s going crazy in there.”

Jo rolled her eyes, grabbing the flask back from Alex, her lips pressing against his once more. She knew Alex was right, April would yell at her. But she wanted nothing more than to drag Alex into a room and have her way with him. 

 “Go, before Bridezilla kills you. I’ll see you later at the open bar,” Alex smiled at Jo once more, the grin seemingly unmoving from his face since she had jumped into his arms. “See you soon Bar Princess!”

“I’ll be waiting, Doctor Evil Spawn!” 

Jo let her feet carry her back down the hall, only turning away from Alex once she reached the doorway of the hotel room she was heading to. She waved over her shoulder at Alex, who stood dumbstruck in the middle of the hallway, unmoved from where she had left him. 

“Holy shit,” Jo sighed as she leaned against the now closed door, the jewelry box pressed against her chest as she laughed. April, Steph, and Maggie stared on in confusion as Jo let out a small laugh. “I think I love him.”

#jolex #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #jo karev #jo wilson #jo wilson karev #jolex fic #jo x alex #INFJTT #alex karev #alternate universe #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy #nina writes

[dyscrasia-eucrasia]

Part 7

<<Prev | Next>>

"Hey giiiirl," Lexi said when Angel answered the Facetime call. "It's been foreverrrr, how are you?" 

Lexi Christo was a micro-influencer from Richmond, Virginia. She was tan, blonde, and had the whitest teeth Angel had ever seen on a person. He'd become influencer buddies with her during a pole dancing expo he'd traveled to a year ago. She wasn't a dancer herself, but had been there to support another micro-influencer who danced as a hobby. Angel had met her in the hotel bar as she went around taking selfies with as many guys as she could, and they struck up a conversation, working out a deal to both post the selfie to their Instagram accounts and tag each other. 

She was alright, as far as he was concerned. She had two cute pomeranians and hustled fitness shakes in what he could only assume was a pyramid scheme. She was image obsessed, but who on Instagram wasn't? The only problem he had with her was that she came off as a super Jesus-freak online, but in person she was one of the hardest partiers he'd ever met. 

A call from her generally meant she was planning something big and fun and wanted as many influencers to show up as she could get. 

"Oh, y'know, wasting all of my talent on podunk Charleston, the usual," he replied. 

"Are you laying in bed? I'm not interrupting a dick appointment, am I?"

"God, I wish I was getting dick right now. No, I'm just resting my leg, I pulled it funny on the pole last night." 

"Oh, bummer. Is it serious?" 

"No, it happens sometimes. Just need to ice it and stay off of it for a day." 

"That's good… speaking of dancing, I've got a proposition for you." 

"Oh no, what are you planning?" 

"So my sister is getting married in a few months, and I'm putting together a bachelorette party for her. It's gonna be so lit, I've got so many local influencers coming. We're gonna stream it on Instagram Live and everything. And I want you to be our stripper." 

"Lexi, you know I'm gay, right? I don't do hen shows." 

"No no no, that's why you'd be perfect! That way none of the guests will end up trying to fuck you." 

"Well, jeez, take all the fun out of working…" Angel joked. He'd never fucked someone from a club. He'd thought about it sometimes - the money would be nice, of course - but it always came back to his online reputation. Had to keep it clean to attract those brand deals. 

"C'mon, pleeeeaaaase! I'll pay you and everything." 

"Bitch, you'd better pay your dancers!"

"Of course I would! But you'll get paid plus you'll get exposure from a ton of influencers. C'mon, it'll be so much fun."

"For you. I'll be working." 

"Work can be fun. C'mon, pleeeeeaaaase!"

"Okay, okay! I'll do it, jeez. Stop grovelling." 

"Omigod, thank you!" 

"Yeah, yeah, don't mention it." 

"Excellent. I'm so excited. So anyways, what's happening with you?"

"Oh, not much. Just thinking about boys, y'know how it is." 

"Speaking of boys, you should totally DM Clayton Howard. He's actually out in West Virginia right now." 

"Whaaat? What's he doing out of L.A.?" 

"He's doing some sort of cryptid hunting show with his crew. They were hunting Mothman, and then something called Flatland, or something like that? They almost got shot by hillbillies in the episode that went up today." 

"No way. How did that even happen?" 

"They were in the woods looking for the Goatman and I guess they got too close to some hillbilly shack or something because someone fired a shotgun at them."

"Wait, what's the Goatman?" 

"You know, from the creepypasta?" 

"Girl, you know I hate horror." 

"Well, there's this story about a Goatman who lives in the woods and smells like blood and it can shapeshift or whatever and sneaks into groups of teenagers."

"Ugh, creepy." 

"I know! But anyways, Clayton's in your state, you should totally DM him and try to hook up. Or at least shoot a collab." 

"I dunno, Clayton's got like 100k followers, I doubt he'd talk to someone with less than 10k…"

Angel didn't get to finish that thought when his phone started to buzz. The notification that popped up at the top of the screen showed an incoming call - not Facetime, just a regular phone call. And the caller ID was someone from his contacts: Demie. 

He sat up, suddenly flooded with energy. It had been two whole days since Demie had called him, and he'd figured that Demie just didn't want anything to do with him anymore. 

"Lexi, I gotta go, I'm getting a really important call," he said, words tumbling rapidly out of his mouth. 

"Ooooh, is it for a dick appointment?" 

"If I play my cards right, it is," he said with a grin. "Talk to you later, byeeeee!" 

He hung up the Facetime call before she could reply, smashing the answer button on the incoming call. 

"Hello?" He said. He instantly cringed. That 'hello' had sounded too excited. He was afraid of coming off too strong and scaring Demie away. 

"Uh… Angel?" Demie asked. 

"Yeah, yeah, this is Angel. What's up, man?" 

"Hey, uh, so Elaine said you called. Sorry I didn't call back, I was dealing with some shit." 

"Hey man, that's fine. Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, there were just these punkass kids trespassing on my property and scaring my goats so I was putting up signs all day--"

"Wait, you have goats?" Angel interrupted. 

"Uh… yeah?" 

"What, do you live on a farm or something?"

"Huh? No. I grew up on a farm, but I moved away and shit. I just have some goats." 

"You really like goats, huh? I mean, you dress up like a goat, you have goats…" 

"Uh… I guess." 

"Have you ever heard of the Goatman?" 

There was some silence on the other end of the line. Angel was afraid the connection had dropped, so he asked: "Demie? You there?" 

"Yeah, I'm here. What about the Goatman?" 

"Oh, apparently there's this Youtuber who's in town and is doing a show about cryptids. I dunno, I thought that since you like goats, maybe you knew about the Goatman and had checked it out--" 

"Cryptids are fucking bullshit, you know that, right?" Demie said. His typically monotone voice had just an edge of anger to it. 

"Oh, yeah, I know--" 

"Like they're just stupid stories made up by drunk rednecks who don't know what a fucking owl looks like, and all the people who go hunting them are just running around trespassing on private property." 

There was silence for a little while. 

"Hey," Angel said gently, "are we cool? Did I say something wrong?"

He could hear Demie take a deep breath, and then let it out. "Yeah, no, it's fine." 

"'Cause I didn't mean to upset you. You know that, right?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Was that all you wanted to talk about or did you call about something else?" 

"Oh, no, I didn't actually call about that, I was just talking to someone about it. I was calling to check in, y'know? Wondering how the song writing was going and all that." 

"Um, it's going fine, I guess."

"I was reading the Wiki page for Orpheus, it said that he had the power to, like, make anything that heard his music do whatever he wanted. I can see why you'd like him as a musician, I bet that would be a cool superpower to have." 

"Um, yeah, look, about that--" 

Angel's phone vibrated with a notification for a text. He pulled the phone away from his ear to look at it. It was a text from Lexi, stating: 'I DMed Clayton ur number. Ur welcome. 🍆💦'

A second later, a number he didn't recognize with a California area code lit up his phone with an incoming call. 

"Oh, shit," he mumbled. He wanted to keep talking to Demie, especially since he could tell he'd offended him somehow and wanted to clear the air. But at the same time, Clayton Howard had been his internet mancrush for ages. 

"Hey, Demie, sorry, I'm gonna have to go, I have to take this call. Can I call you back later?" 

"Um, yeah, I guess--" 

"Okay, byeeee!" 

He fumbled with the phone, ending the call with Demie and hitting the answer button for the unknown number. 

"Hello?" He asked. 

"Hey, is this Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Hey dude, this is Clayton Howard…"

#writing #writers on tumblr #original fiction #gay fiction #lgbt fiction #wright's writing #w:demie and angel

[swatato]

fat. FAT. P H A T RANT INCOMING FOR ANYONE WHO CARES TO READ THIS NONSENSE CUZ @haldidoodh ASKED

That episode literally blasted the last of my serotonin into smithereens but TBH??? WHO AM I MAD AT I should have seen this coming this whole volume has been such a headache. I cant be bothered to type up a coherent rwde essay on everything that bothered me this episode so im just gonna copy and paste my earlier yelling here instead ;A;

Team Rwby was god awful in episodes 11-12. They’re so self-righteous, entitled, hypocritical and cocky as a team and it doesnt help that they all suck as individual characters nowadays (except for weiss but even she lost best-girl points this episode also lmao blake and yang aren’t even INDIVIDUALS anymore they’re just bumbleby). It was annoying at first but now its just infuriating how rwby thinks theyre always right with their uwu energy and think they can do whatever tf they want with ZERO CONSEQUENCES.

Basically any time there is a problem in this show they have Ruby uwu at it and its solved lol.

They kept giving ironwood shit for taking on this incredible burden SO THAT NOBODY ELSE WOULD HAVE TO and rather than offer any real solution they just kept going “but mantle” like okay?? But remnant??? Like obvi letting mantle rot is bad but HE WAS OPEN TO ANY HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS CUZ HES OBVI AT HIS WITTS END AND DOESNT LIKE THE IDEA EITHER but yeah they just proceed to be the fattest hypocrites by hiding secrets of their own after being all “no more secrets uwu” and WHEN THEY GOT EXPOSED THEY JUST WENT “>:[“ (yangs self-righteous little glare here pissed me off so much oof) especially when ironwood was laying everything out in the open to them from the start. AND ESPECIALLY WHEN THE SECRET WAS FKIN “OH YEAH SALEM CANT DIE LOL” They watched ironwood make every decision he did in hopes of beating Salem while KNOWING she couldnt die??? So literallY WHERE do they get off on screeching at him with their yOu doNt hAvE to Suffer In ManTle YOu doNt kNow whAt iTs liKe bs. Wtf made ruby distrust iw at the start anyway? Because he had a bunch of ships out? They kept this CRUCIAL piece of information from him because he seemed stressed out?? Like what made ruby keep the secret from him. Someone tell me.

And the fact that rwby beat the ace-ops makes no goddamned sense. The power-scaling in this show is non-existant. We finally got to meet some pro huntsmen in this universe who aren’t teachers but are actually on the job, but because we gotta move out of the way for that 👌🏽✨ Power Of Friendship✨ and ✨rwby is always right✨ they somehow managed to beat experienced huntsmen with YEARS in the field who’ve actually graduated school??? FARM BOI OSCAR WHOS *JUST* LEARNING HOW TO FIGHT MANAGED TO LAND A PUNCH ON NEO FKIN POLITAN??? Didnt neo dance circles around yang??? Yang, who punches for a living and also beat mercury and adam??? I cant yall (and the fact that he didnt even bother to sneak up on her this boi literally screamed “no!!” as he ran down a hallway and neo didnt even have time to blink??? Pls)

Ruby’s “you were the best, until you trained us :3” -for maybe 2 days before my team went dancing ruby sis shut right tf up pls my god is this line just so. UNEARNED. Training in a room for a short while does not simply grant you the years of field experience the ace ops have and whAT IS UP WITH HER TRYING TO REASON WITH HARIETT AFTER SAYING THAT COCKY LINE AND FIGHTING HER??? WHAT and also like. The entire idea of “the ops lost cuz they weren’t good friends and were bad at teamwork uwu” is just so dumb. Ur telling me this group of high ranking hunstmen who’ve most likely been working together for at least a few years didnt have teamwork down??? Learning to work together is the most BASIC concept for a team to learn!! Its like the first thing a team has to perfect!! If the ace ops are supposed to be the best of atlas you dont think the ops would have gotten something as fundemental as teamwork down?? I dont buy it. And who gives a shit if they dont hang out after work or take selfies with eachother. Being friends doesnt necessarily mean theyre great at working together. If they succeed at relying on eachother to watch their backs, to keep each other alive (in the words of hariett herself) then Id think theyd know how to protect eachother i.e WORK TOGETHER.

And for all the ✨friendship✨ and ✨going through so much with someone✨ talk rwby like to do, the show barely displays these people acting like friends. We’re constantly TOLD how great of friends this group is, but the actual CONTENT we are shown leaves a lot to be desired. Tell me the last time ruby and blake teamed up in a fight. Or weiss and blake. Or yang and weiss. What teamwork?? Yang only interacts with blake now and weiss is only ever allowed to interact with ruby. Has blake ever said nora or ren’s name out loud? Have jaune and yang ever held a conversation between just them? Team rwby just spent a GOOD DEAL of time seperated from eachother, but when they reunite their teamwork is still somehow better than the ace ops?? Honestly its easier to believe that ruby is closer with team jnpr than she is her own team. If they showed the ops messing up during rwby vs ace ops fight due to lack of communication, then it still doesnt matter. My point is that they shouldnt have lacked teamwork in the first place.

Robyn was m e h this episode “JaMes ConTinUes to UnDeresTimAte Me” *proceeds to get knocked over in .3 seconds and is then KO for the rest of the episode* also great job for starting a fight and aiming to take clovers life in a moving airship with a terrorist on board when clover was acting PEACEFULLY and qrow was WILLING TO TALK IT OUT WITH IW and potentially work on a solution, but naw robyn is big mad and shall shoot.

Qrow made zero sense this episode too. I was with him right up until he chose TYRIAN OVER CLOVER??? THE PSYCOPATH WHO CANNOT BE REASONED WITH OVER THE RATIONAL DUDE YOU KNOW IS GOOD except clover wasnt acting rational in this fight at all and ill get to that AND IS THE ONLY FRIEND YOU HAVE WHOS NOT 19????? Qrow rly looked at tyrian- a man who is literally an enemy to all of remnant and went after ur neice- and said lets get rid of this punk together u and me bro. Like screw teaming with clover to bring down the dude you ACTUALLY have a grudge with whos also a serial killer and then trying to talk it out with clover whod be willing to do things peacefully why is this show like this

and AS FOR CLOVER. where were the braincells this episode. Qrow was trying to fight tyrian-the WAY bigger threat here, but clover??? kept knocking him away from tyrian and restraining him with his hook like??? YEAH LETS HELP OUT THE DEMON SCORPION CRACKHEAD HES CLEARLY NOT THE PRIORITY ATM nvm clover deserved to die there m8

His death scene was emotional and I feel bad for Qrow but u literally sealed his death when u ganged on him with tyrian so why are you even surprised. And on the subject of fairgame, im glad it didnt happen. Qrow was in no state for romance and I was glad he finally had a friend. He just spent the last volume thinking he wasted his life away helping oz, drowning in misery, drinking til he passed out on the street and so drunk he couldnt even be of any help during the apathy situation, when up til now hes been shown to fight just fine while drunk. I don’t see this as a “bury your gays trope” because clover was never confirmed to be gay and all their scenes added up to 40 seconds of platonic friendship. These two are grown ass men, if they had the hots for eachother then im pretty sure they could openly show it and not dance around it like theyre kids. I do feel bad for mlm viewers who were hoping for some rep with fairgame/lucky charms (cuz rt only cares if ur a cute marketable lesbian) but idc for the overly entitled fans who try to force their own headcanons on the writers and go feral when they dont get what they want. You dont just get to prance around claiming whats canon and what isnt. If rep is there then great, but if it isnt, then why not look somehwere else and let the author tell the story theyre trying to tell? Shipping fairgame cuz you think its cute is absolutely fine but not when u start getting ready to casterate crwby for not catering to you. Also, rwby sucks with lgbt+ rep anyway so what were yall expecting.

The only thing that was great this episode was the chorerography. It just sucks that the animation/choreo continues to improve while the writing doesnt. Another thing that really fell off this episode was the whole “we’re friends but we have to fight” drama. It doesnt work when its only ONE SIDE SHOWING ANY DISTRESS OVER IT. Only the ace ops (marrow, clover, the vine dude) seemed to show distress over having to fight rwby (it sucks that the only 1v1 weiss has won was because marrow was going EASY on her cuz he didnt wanna fight her fr) but rwby???? They didnt give any shits. They were so quick to turn against them and aim for their heads. They were SMILING as they ran at the ace ops, while they looked conflicted. If you oppose their UwU philosophy, you’re dead to them.

I really wanna enjoy RWBY but sometimes this show (and the fndm) really tests me. Its ironic how this episode came right after last episode, which I thought was the best chapter this volume. Anyway I rate this 10/10 cuz it gave me best character ironwood and best boi marrow and I would like to give them hugs for carrying this volume on their backs. (Also tyrian and penny and winter have been great too)

#oof just oof #and idegaf about cinder yall #lowkey hoping she gets all the maiden powers so she can finally beat rwby up and HUMBLE them a little #rwby #rwby vol 7 #rwde

[caffeinatedfantasy]

The Seal pt 20: Sorcery

{ Chris: [bio] [Prologue] [Story in Tumblr] [ AO3 Link From Beginning ]

Levi let me sneak into his room to get some peace. Solomon was going to be coming over and I'd spent most of the night before discussing some things with Satan. I hadn't seen Mammon yet since we'd made out, and I wasn't sure how to take that. So I'd convinced Levi to let me bring in a giant beanbag to relax in and I was planted in it as we watched one of his shows, the door firmly locked from his brothers.

"I can't believe you let Mammon use that pic as his wallpaper." Levi muttered, glancing over at me. I hummed a question, glancing up at him where he was sitting in his tub... Bed? I frowned, not understanding, and he motioned vaguely towards the scene on the screen. The two main characters had taken a selfie together, with one kissing the other on the cheek. That picture!

"So that's what he did with the pic, I wondered when he didn't post it on Devilgram." I shrugged, then paused, taking a moment to watch Levi for a moment. I could feel the emotion rolling off of him. Envy. It didn't take me long to connect the dots with this one. I smiled and pulled myself up next to him, using the edge of the tub to haul myself up and grinned at him. "Did you want a selfie together, then?"

"Wh-what? Why would I want something like that, it's such a normie--" He started, but I just kept smiling at him as I pulled out my DDD and set the timer.

"Well, I want a selfie, if that's cool." I knew it would be judging from the way his envy eased a little bit. I leaned towards him, holding it up and he was blushing, still faux-protesting a little bit. Looking at the view of us in the camera, I noticed he was too far away [he wasn't even looking, too embarrassed I guessed] and hummed. "Budge up nerd, I'm hopping into the tub for this."

He went even redder at that, talking about "Wh-why would you...", but he did indeed make some room, letting me crawl in in front of him and perch between his legs, leaning into him to get a good shot. It took a couple attempts, but after a moment, I had a decent one, where he'd leaned forward to rest his chin on the top of my head. He looked slightly annoyed or flustered, but there was enough hint of a smile.

"I like this one. You look cute in it." I tilted my head up, smiling at him and holding up my DDD. I had thought the envy would ease with a good photo, but as he stared down at me [not the phone, just me], it swelled again. He wasn't even looking at the pic. Frowning, I turned around, climbing into his lap to get even with him. He was going red, but he wasn't stopping me, either. He was just staring, slightly flustered, as I placed my hands on his chest to prop myself up. "Did you want it to a be a nerdy selfie? Or are you pouting cause you wanna go to the human world?"

He didn't answer, but I felt him huff when I called him out on his pouting. I huffed right back at him. [Since the pact with Satan, I felt myself getting easily annoyed at things, this behaviour included.] "Levi, if you want something specific, ya gotta tell me."

Still no answer, but I glanced down when I felt his tail curling around my waist. Something I realized he did when he was nervous or upset. I understood the social anxiety that made it hard to ask for even really silly things. And Levi had moments where he didn't even understand we were friends. And that was a feeling I understood too. So I waited for him to figure out what to say. Or tried to.

Both of our phones chimed with a text message and I lifted mine to take a peek at it. [Aaand a spike in envy.] Solomon was on his way upstairs. It wasn't going be too much longer before he was here. I sighed and tossed my phone onto the beanbag I'd been sitting in before. "I'm posting the one I took. If you want something else, you're gonna have to let me know, okay? But for now, it looks like Solomon's here. I'll get the door."

His tail squeezed around my waist briefly. A little too tightly, the hit of envy with it making it clear he didn't want to share my attention, even though he considered Solomon a friend too... But then his tail loosened and he helped me out of the tub, still a little red and muttering something under his breathe, but no longer simply pouting as if I was supposed to know. Now I just had to hope that Solomon wasn't going to be a vague shit today. I couldn't promise I wouldn't get snappy with him. [I was still figuring out how much to trust him with.]

"Who's there~" I called through the door as someone knocked, already knowing the answer. He was halfway through saying his name when I opened the door and grabbed his arm, pulling him in with a grin. I was glad he'd come as I'd asked, but there was a weird mix of energy hitting me and made me want to tease him a bit. "Get in here mage boy."

Solomon blinked for a moment at the sudden yank, but smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Mage boy?"

I just shrugged at him, I was gonna let him decide how to take that. His hand lingered on my arm even when I let go of him, following me as I plopped down on the giant beanbag, digging through the bag I'd brought up with me and trying to decide what to ask him about first. There was the letter in Latin (which I hadn't asked Satan about because I worried whether he'd be upset I'd hid something from Grisella from him or not), or the pendant that had that sigil I didn't recognize, or the spellbook itself. Maybe the letter? It might have an answer to the rest, I was pulling it out when Solomon sat down next to me, looking at my hands, and spoke.

"I heard you made another pact." He sounded somewhere between impressed and amused. I glanced up and nodded at him, smiling. "Satan this time, Asmodeus tells me."

"Yea!" I said. And the at the sound of the Avatar of Lust's name, I sat up, holding up the small notebook I'd copied the letter onto and the annoyance hit me from yesterday. "Which reminds me! He was under the impression that I was making all of my pacts through sex, apparently! Has Asmo been saying that?"

"You haven't been?"  Solomon blinked at me again. He looked surprised this time. Oh gods. Seriously?

"No! Levi! Please! Tell him!"  I rolled my eyes and looked over at Levi, who was bright red. And felt. Envy. Practically rolling off of him. But in a strange state because-- He was pouting and not looking over at me and it took a moment for him to say anything.

"Assumed you did with Asmo at least." He paused, and sounding slightly annoyed, added. "And would've explained why Mammon is so clingy with you-- And you stayed in Beel's room so long..."

"For fuck's sake!" I threw up my hands, starting to get pissed at this point. "Did none of you listen to my whole 'not getting involved' bullshit? Y'all are walking fucking thirst traps and I'm here keeping my hands to myself and somehow you're all. What? Thinking you're the exception to me sluttin' it up? Even Diavolo thought--" I cut off the sentence with a 'tsk', needing to take a moment to calm myself down.

"To be fair, Chris, you would be the very first human Asmo has made a pact with that he hasn't had sex with." Solomon's voice was calmly amused. I had still been looking at Levi and he nodded in agreement. And I turned to look at the other human, my cheeks pink and realized that he'd made the assumption based off experience. "Most demons expect you to indulge in their... Sin with them as a pact of the pact."

And the image of those two in bed together, naked as sin, sweaty, limbs all tangled, and -- And Asmo had been trying to share him with me the moment he thought I liked Solomon. And he went on about having standards and my cheeks were definitely getting warmer. I could feel the heat up to my scalp at this point. I looked back at Levi and well. At least his envy had eased a bit with the realization that I hadn't slept with Asmo, it seemed. Which that annoyed me a bit.

"Well, apparently none of my demons have been telling me this shit." None of them told me shit and I felt the hit of envy blossom through me at the fact that Solomon fucking knew all of this and I had pacts with now five demons and barely any knowledge. And Levi finally met my eyes at that, a little flash of colour sparking across his eyes that told me that he'd felt that. I sighed. "If it makes you feel any better Levi, if I change my mind, I'll let you know so you can decide if you wanna fuck too."

I was mostly being sarcastic with that because I didn't plan on having sex with any of them any time soon (the thing with Belphegor was a slip that I was not counting, especially since it might've been a dream). I didn't expect to feel the ease of envy so strongly. I knew he got very jealous about Asmo and thinking he was so much more attractive and all. It must be something to do with that? I sighed and turned my attention to Solomon again, keen on changing the subject, holding out the notebook to him.

"'Your demons'?" He teased me. Maybe it was bad phrasing. Especially since technically we shared one.  But that wasn't the point and he knew it. My glare must have been somewhat working, because he took the notebook from me with only a small chuckle, opening it up and skimming through the pages.

"Can you help me translate that?" I'd copied the letter, in a mish-mashed version, mixing in some sentences from some [benign] latin book I'd found in Satan's room that he'd agreed to let me borrow. I remembered what order the sentences I needed were in, and it probably wouldn't make sense, which was why I'd even decided on a cover. "I got it as--"

Before I could even finish, Solomon sighed, closer the notebook and lowering it to his lap, staring at me. He didn't look as amused as he usually did. "Where's the actual thing you want me to translate?"

He definitely sounded more annoyed this time. And I frowned back at him, considering what to tell him, I could continue with the lie, try to argue, push further, but I wanted to know and-- "I could probably figure it out, considering the dialects used here are all over the place, but that would mean sorting through the bits that are clearly there just to obfuscate the real message. Like this one that is just a series of subclauses..."

Clearly, that was a bad idea. I sighed, and reached into my bag to pull out the letter, the seal now broken, and handed it to him. He nodded, looking less annoyed at me for not having bothered trying to lie, and he hummed.

"So?" I asked him hopefully. He glanced up, turning it over to look at the seal.

"Who gave this to you?" He asked, his voice calm. I wanted to argue. That wasn't part of what we'd agreed on at all. He gave me a look that told me that there wasn't much point to that and I sighed.

"A witch named Grisella gave me a bag when I was up in London. That letter was in it, along with some other things. The rest of it looks like standard witchy stuff but the letter had my name..."

"Because it's addressed to you." He paused, and hummed again, glancing down at it. "Was she the seer that was fond of the brothers?"

I glanced at Levi, who was hanging over the edge of the tub now, trying to peek at the letter over Solomon's shoulder. He didn't seem worried about that information, so I simply nodded. Another thoughtful pause as he glanced down at it before he started reading.

"'I don't know how your magic was locked away. But I know ways of unlocking it. I do not know which one will be the key, but I have a feeling you'll enjoy some of them. Your greatest boon in all of these are those whose marks connect you.'" He paused and looked up at me thoughtfully, "The phrasing on that is a bit strange, because it's not 'the pacts you've made', but 'those whose marks connect you'. Which still means the pact marks, but..." He shrugged and read the rest. "'You will have to trust more. They will not leave --'"

I snatched the letter from Solomon. I didn't like the direction where that was going. He let me, though, watching me instead. I wanted to know what the rest said, but I was afraid to ask him. It had started veering into something I didn't want to explain to him. I sighed, stuffing it into the bag and pulling out the spellbook and the pendant.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the pendant, reaching out to cradle it carefully with one hand, letting me keep hold of the chain as he held it up to inspect it. I couldn't really read his expression, but the closest I would guess would be awe. Or maybe surprise?

I knew he'd recognize it. I just didn't know what it was and-- And he slipped the chain from my hands and was undoing the clasp and I started to reach out to take it back when -- "Turn around, let me put it on you."

I hesitated, nervous and not liking the idea of someone putting jewelry on me, but... But I did as he asked, holding my hair out of the way and trying to watch him out of the corner of my eye. "The note said this was for you. It's like a lesser version of my ring."

The ring -- the seal -- I froze, turning towards him a bit more as the metal touched my skin. I felt envy spike from Levi from where he sat in the tub, but I couldn't look over at him yet. "Your ring?"

"It was how I was able to form all my pacts. Verbal pacts like you've been doing work on the brothers because they have to honor them. But lesser demons... They have to rely on your power more. And the seal, and this, the lesser key, act as... Buffers I suppose. You don't have to feed them." He clasped the necklace and kept his hands on my neck for a moment, the touch making me shiver. I glanced over at Levi and he was watching. Still with that feeling I didn't know how to read [was he envious of Solomon or me?], before I turned back to Solomon, confused.

"Feed them?" I asked.

"On your soul. Duh. Lesser demons can get... Used up by a pact if they don't feed." It was Levi who answered, staring at the pendant. I turned towards him and held it up for a moment for him to see, letting it fall back down when he made no move to touch it. He did reach out to touch my chest next to the pendant when I let it lay, though. "That's why none of us mentioned the whole... Indulging thing."

He did turn a little pink at talking about indulging and his fingers brushed the pendant and his true form flickered over the guise like Satan's had when he'd touched the seal on my stomach, the touch of his claws causing me to shiver a little. He pulled back and looked a bit guilty, but I didn't address it. The last time I'd seen his true form had been when he'd tried to attack me, after all.

I glanced at Solomon. "You called it the lesser key?" He nodded.

"It's actually called a geotic circle, I don't know if it's the actual key itself, but it should let you perform some very rudimentary magic using some of the energy from your pacts." I frowned. That concerned me. I didn't want to use the guys' magic without permission.

"The energy from the pacts?" I asked him, glancing down at the pendant and rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger anxiously. "I don't want to take advantage of the guys or drain them or anything..."

He waved his hand in dismissal at the idea, shaking his head. And he started explaining it as best he could. Though it took a moment for me to understand since I had no base to work from. So he compared it to chemistry. The pact itself made energy that could be used for magic. Not a lot, with my powers locked away, but perhaps enough to unlock that power.

And Solomon seemed so excited about the idea. The hypotheticals seemed to pull in Levi enough to finally take an active part in the whole thing, making references to TSL and some of the anime I'd watched with him to help me understand what they were trying to tell me. We didn't even get to the spellbook, either. Simply the theory of it all for the next few hours.

Until Levi kicked us out so he could do his raid in peace. [I thanked him with a kiss on his head for that.] And Solomon left for the night for his own reasons, quickly jotting down the rest of Grisella's note for me to read to myself. [I didn't thank him for it, as I was far too embarrassed to do so.] But I was going to read it later. My hand drifted towards my stomach, making me wonder if the seal was the reason I'd been able to make the pacts at all.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me fic #the seal obey me fic #obey me solomon #obey me levi #obey me mc #obey me mc chris

[formlesscopycat]

More than the Roses

A Kuroko no Basuke fanfiction

Summary: Aomine is not into romantic words and gifts. Kise tells himself that it’s okay.

Tags: Established relationship, domestic boyfriends, future fic

Read on Ao3

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I’m  not one for surprises…

Because Valentine’s Day isn’t really our thing.

...

All I need is him.

.

.

Kise knows there aren’t any surprises waiting for him today.

No flowers.

No chocolates.

No cheesy love notes tucked on gifts carefully wrapped in fancy paper.

It just wasn’t their sort of thing, making a big fuss over the so-called day of hearts.

Daiki thinks it’s only a huge-ass gimmickry, the perfect ploy of flower shops and bakeries to wring out  bucks from people’s pockets, as if love can be stowed into something too ordinary and tangible, not to mention, something that’s store-bought.

“Besides,” Daiki tells him, midnight-blue eyes serious, unwavering, “...you always knew how I felt for you, these gifts are too overrated, anyway.”

So Kise learns to dismiss all sorts of expectations, when a dash of crimson sneaks into his periphery, a delivery guy bearing a bouquet of roses approaches his desk (guy’s been the fifth one to do so today, because Kise’s desk is closest to the office entrance).

No, it doesn’t affect Kise at all, that the person the delivery guy had asked for is his co-worker, Takao Kazunari, whose head had immediately perked up at the sound of his name. Seated from the far end of the room, Takao is quick on his heels, bouncing beside Kise to meet the delivery guy and claim his gift.

And Kise ignores the slight twinge of jealousy ripping in his chest when Takao sniffs the roses, pulls the note card out from the tiny envelope and claps a hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh at what he just read.

“What did it say?” Kise dares to ask, he’s only curious, and that’s just about it.

Takao turns to him, cheeks aflame, slate-blue eyes practically sparkling. “Oh, it’s just my prudish Shin-chan! I just find it too funny when he’s being sweet like this.”

With lifted chin, Takao shows Kise the message.

Happy Valentine’s Day, gorgeous. Tonight is all ours.

Kise lets out a chuckle, it doesn’t sound like Midorima at all, he probably chose from the message templates that the flower shop had offered, but still, Kise would give him props for being the thoughtful and sweet boyfriend for this occasion.

“Tee-hee, that’s the love of my life! Gotta thank St. Valentine, we get to experience the cheesy side of our emotionally-challenged boyfriends even for once,” Takao remarks.

Kise chews on the corner of his bottom lip and goes quiet with a nod. For years, Daiki and himself hardly do anything special during Valentine’s Day, it just kind of... got obscured by their daily routines and busy schedule, more so because Daiki has been duty-bound and is always on-call as a police officer. It gets to a point where Kise no longer cares about Valentine’s Day too, doesn’t give much thought to it, that it completely slips out of his mind, until he walks to his office today and notice the considerable number of flowers, balloons and other gifts adorning his co-worker’s tables.

It’s even worse when Valentine’s Day falls on his and Daiki’s workday, like today, for instance.  It gets ditched from their schedule altogether, in favor of other ludicrous activities such as getting groceries and stuff. Kise recalls not having to greet Daiki Happy Valentine’s earlier this morning before each of them left for work, he recalls that today will be spent just as ordinarily as the day before, there is nothing special, it’s just their laundry day.

So while other couples will be holding each other’s hands inside movie theaters later or having dinner at high-end restaurants or both, Kise can just look forward to... doing chores with Daiki.

How stupidly romantic and domesticated is that, Kise reflects.

Not wanting to be weighed down by such miserable thoughts, Kise schools his emotions just enough, lets up a forced smile to his lips as he turns his attention back to his friend.

“You know us, we just low-key celebrate because we’re both busy,” Kise tells Takao as he leans back against his chair, not quite sure if he just imagined the bitter aftertaste of the words in his mouth. “Just dinner at home and that’s it.”

“And wild sex,” Takao adds, casual and unabashedly audible, like they’re not anywhere near their other co-workers.

“Right, the sex,” Kise agrees, realizing that no one is paying attention to them. His friend is right, sex is his saving grace. That, at least, is something he can work on, bring Daiki into the mood and make him fuck Kise senseless tonight. With Daiki being a total beast in the sheets, maybe he’ll insist on using the handcuffs again…

“Now, now… I see your thoughts are seriously going astray!” Takao laughs, shoulders bobbing up and down.

Kise’s face grows warmer. “No, I was just thinking about what I’m supposed to cook for dinner.”

“You are the lousiest liar!”

“Am not!”

“Ahem!”

Kise and Takao both turn their heads towards their brunet co-worker, Oikawa Tooru. If looks could gut, both he and Takao will be bleeding immensely on the floor by now, Kise thinks.

“In case you two haven’t noticed, people are working here and we’re not interested in your sexcapades!” Oikawa hisses, a dour expression on his face.

“Talk to you later, Single’s Awareness Day hits some of us hard,” Takao whispers with a wink.

Kise watches as Takao sashays back to his desk grinning from ear to ear, admiring the rose bouquet he got.  From the corner of his eye, Kise steals a glance at Oikawa, the Salt of Valentine’s Day, already typing furiously on his computer. Smiling to himself, Kise thanks his lucky stars, he might have no gifts waiting for him today but at least, he’s got a boyfriend who can keep him warm tonight, unlike Oikawa who’s been on a prolonged sullen mood, having been single for almost half a year, all alone on the day of hearts.

Kise reverts his attention to his PC screen and gets himself to work. He skims through thick pages of printed documents, sends emails and makes several long phone calls to clients and other associates to distract himself.

However, time trickles away, unbelievably slow and harrowing, and the pensive mood grows, sinking deeper and deeper within him, it’s almost impossible to overlook.

Kise tries not to overthink these matters even as several more delivery guys came in with flowers or cakes for his other colleagues.

He tunes out the hushed words of affection from his co-workers, sweet nothings whispered over the phone to their significant others. Grabbing his own phone, Kise takes a selfie with the brightest smile he can possibly muster at the moment, sends it with a quick text to Daiki, I miss you so much.

Hours went by. Daiki doesn’t reply.

.

Then comes the biggest discovery of Kise’s day.

Intending to replenish his stock of paper clips, Kise walks into the supplies room and hears suspicious noises, rattling the shelves somewhere. And he knows he can’t be wrong, because right there behind one of the steel cabinets, there’s Oikawa, oblivious to the world around him, too busy making out with the tall, broad-shouldered guy from the IT department, Ushijima-san. If Kise’s memory serves him right, Oikawa has been bad mouthing the poor guy non-stop since time immemorial, and now this.

Careful as not to burst Oikawa’s little bubble of fun, Kise retreats quietly from the supplies room, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing out loud at the irony of it all. He can’t wait to share the juicy news with Takao.

And when Oikawa bounces back to his office chair a few minutes later, he’s humming a soft tune under his breath and he’s noticeably less catty--the sly little bitch is flushed pink, the glow in his hazel eyes unmistakable. Further observing the brunet, Kise feels genuinely happy for Oikawa and then somehow, feels himself missing Daiki even more. For the gazillionth time, he checks his phone for any message though he knows, he knows…

...Daiki is just not that kind of guy.

And for all of Daiki’s shortcomings, Kise still loves him, all of him.

To cheer himself a little, he pulls up the gallery app from his phone, browsing and swiping through the countless saved pictures of Daiki. Shortly after, Kise finds himself smiling, and he tells himself not to sweat over the trivial stuff.

.

.

When Kise’s shift ends, he’s surprised to see Daiki already waiting for him outside the office. Kise finds him leaning casually against his black vintage Mazda, arms crossed over his chest, the first three buttons of his police uniform undone, his sexy smirk well in place and it makes Kise swoon, heartbeat accelerating.

“Hey,” Daiki says, hooking an arm around Kise’s waist. His other hand climbs up and trails the side of Kise’s face, a thumb softly grazing Kise’s cheek and for a moment, Daiki pauses, an affectionate gaze pulling Kise into the depths of his midnight-blue eyes, before leaning down to catch Kise’s lips on his.

Daiki doesn’t bring him flowers but then, Daiki doesn't really need to...

Closing his eyes, Kise lets himself melt into Daiki, everything becoming clear as crystal as he savors Daiki's presence. In that moment, Kise feels thoroughly ashamed for dwelling over thoughts of self-pity, yearning for words, for gifts that mean so little compared to all the years they spent growing together, the moments in between their shared lives, Daiki always rooting for him, challenging him, seeing the best in him, always fanning the flames of passion in his heart.

All Kise has ever needed is right there in front of him.

Celebrating Valentine’s Day isn’t really their thing. They have their own version of romantic, only it’s not anywhere under the spotlight of typical couple venues, of fine-dine restaurants, movie houses or concert halls.

And Kise concludes, they’re never the typical couple, anyway.

Today is laundry day, he and Daiki are doing it together just as they did on the weeks before, on all the years since the two of them decided to move in under one roof.

At the laundromat just a short walk from their apartment, Kise slips a few coins into the money slot of one of the washing machines before pouring detergent and fabric conditioner into the drawer while Daiki sorts the soiled clothes on a nearby table.

“Whites first,” Kise says. Obediently, Daiki hands him socks and shirts, few pieces at a time, while Kise tosses them inside the washing machine. Kise bends his knees a bit, peering into the opening, one of his hands pushing several pieces of clothing further inside the machine. He gestures for Daiki to hand him more clothing, his free arm stretched out towards Daiki behind him.

“Towels now...”

And instead of soft fabric, Daiki has put something else on the palm of Kise’s hand. Turning his head, he sees that Daiki has given him—

A small white box.

Next, Kise’s eyes are blown wide.

A glimmer of something small and precious, a golden ring inside.

“What—” Kise’s heart stutters, as also his tongue; all  the words, the question, the awe remains trapped behind his throat.

“Roses are expensive, so I got you this instead.”

Taking one of Kise’s hands, Daiki gets down on one knee. Then Kise hears the words, the only words he never thought he’s  been longing to hear all his life until now.

“I want to spend every Valentine’s Day with you, the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Kise Ryouta?”

Kise revels at the rich, honeyed baritone of Daiki’s voice, and for the briefest of moments, a flood of emotions well up in his heart, bringing with it fond memories that he and Daiki had weaved together over the years, starting from the instant that the ball had hit the back of Kise's head during middle school. They sweep across Kise’s mind, and he lets himself be buoyed through the bliss, through the turbulence of being endlessly in love with Daiki.

“Aho. You could’ve picked out a finer place to propose to me instead of here,” Kise whines. Not that he's complaining, he just can't believe this is all happening right now. With his heart drumming so hard in his chest, he worries that he’s gonna fall, he's so sure his knees have already turned into jelly.

“I want to surprise you,” Daiki says, gently squeezing Kise's hand. There's a very visible shade of red on Daiki's cheeks which Kise finds too adorable, and Kise feels proud he's the reason Daiki is blushing like that.

“You did a great job.”

“So it’s a yes?”

Kise grips Daiki’s hand and pulls him up from the floor. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, aho! In this life and in the next and the next!”

“You’re a cheesy shit.”

“And you want to marry this cheesy shit!”

As soon as Daiki slips the ring around his finger, Kise wraps his arms around Daiki’s neck, pulling his soon-to-be-husband by the nape, colliding their lips together in a kiss.

The ring grows infinitely warmer against Kise’s skin as he feels Daiki smiling in his mouth.

#aokise #my fanfiction #valentines #inspired by pandora valentine's campaign #implied midotaka #implied ushioi #for aokise discord event

[a5bloodyinspired]

Peter//Left Alone

Click here to read part 2!

Word Count:2400

**********

"Well, they look like they're having fun, don't they?" Ned asked from the seat to my left as I gazed over at Peter and Liz, chin resting in my hand propped on the cafeteria table.

I let out a small, "mhm," as I watched Peter drape his arm gently over Liz's shoulders, his eyes crinkling as he laughed at something. After crushing on Liz for years, Peter had finally gathered up the courage to ask her out, and to his surprise, she had agreed. Two months later, they were both happily dating. Everyone could see how happy they were, constantly together and showering each other in love. As his friend, I just had to be happy for him, right?

Wrong.

"Come on," Ned pleaded, sliding into the seat across from me, blocking my view of the happy couple. "You've got to tell him how you feel. The boy's clueless! He'll never figure it out on his own!"

"Maybe it's better that way. That'd be a fun conversation, don't you think?" I raised an eyebrow at him sarcastically."'Hey, Peter! You know how you've finally started dating the girl you've been crushing on since middle school? The one with the "flawless eyes", the "perfect personality", and the "unexplainable ability to make you happy"? Yeah, you should dump her for me, your dorky best friend who's not that great, and been too much of a coward to tell you she's been crushing on you since elementary school!' How about I don't!"

Ned scoffed at me. "Seriously, (Y/N). Tell him. Any guy would be unbelievably lucky to have you. He just doesn't see it yet."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to take a rain check. Sorry!" I quickly stood up, snatching my tray from the table and walking to throw away my trash, sneaking a glance back over at Peter.

The two of them had their foreheads pressed together, whispering things to each other in between kisses. I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I turned back to the trash can, trying to ignore the deep ache in my chest as Ned jogged to catch up with me.

Knowing the conversation from before was over, he refrained from pressing the matter any further. He looked up at me, giving a sympathetic grimace as he tossed his arm over my shoulder and led me out of the cafeteria. He walked me to my chemistry class at a slow, leisurely pace, seeing as we had left lunch early and had a bit of time to kill.

"Hey, just so you know," Ned stopped in front of the door to the classroom. "You're way cooler than Liz."

"Oh, please, Ned. You don't have to-"

"No, really, (Y/N). You're way funnier, way smarter, and way prettier. Peter's just too blind to see it."

"Thanks, Ned." He squeezed me lightly with the arm that was over my shoulders. By that time, a few students were making their way into the classroom.

"Alright, well, I gotta go, but go kick come chemical butt, okay?" Ned joked.

I laughed at him. "Will do. See you later!"

I walked into the classroom, setting my bag down at my usual seat. I took out a piece of scrap paper and doodled on it while I waited for my classmates to arrived and for the class to start.

Soon enough, Peter walked through the door, a slight bounce in his step as he plopped down in his seat next to me. At the beginning of the year, the idea of sitting at the same table and being right next to Peter every chemistry class had been exciting and something I looked forward to each week. Now, it was just a constant reminder of his relationship with Liz and my loneliness. Even though it was the only class I had with him that Liz wasn't in, somehow she always managed to pop up in conversation.

"(Y/N)! Do you want to know what Liz and I are doing this weekend!" Peter leaned toward me, bouncing in his seat as he stared at me intently.

"I'm assuming it doesn't matter and you're going to tell me either way?" I didn't bother to lift my eyes from my paper.

"We're gonna go see a movie together! This weekend!" he exclaimed, ignoring my comment.

"Ah, there it is!"

"Isn't it great?"

"But haven't you done that before?" I looked over at him, resting my head in my hand as I leaned on the desk. "I mean, you two have gone to see tons of movies together."

"Yeah, but this one is a romance movie! That's gotta mean something more, right?"

Thankfully, the teacher called from the front of the class to start the lesson, saving me from the conversation that was only making the ache in my chest more severe.

I kept glancing at the clock, counting the minutes as they crept closer to the end of the day. As the class was coming to a close the teacher started talking about the project we would be working on for next week. A collective groan escaped the class as she handed out the worksheet for some experiment we were meant to work on.

"Now, this is a partner project, so table-mates will be responsible for completing this together," she spoke, returning to the front of the class. "I don't have anything else, so you are all dismissed."

I felt a poke in my side, and I glanced over to find Peter jabbing me lightly with his elbow. "You and me, eh?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Want to come over after school and we can go ahead and get started on it?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's you and I. And sure, I'll meet you at your locker as soon as class is over."

"Sounds good," he smiles lightly gathering his things.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and began walking out of the room to my next class. "Later, Parker."

**********

Ned and I were working our way through the crowd of high school students in a hurry to leave for the day. I was explaining that I was going to Peter and Aunt May's apartment to work on the chemistry assignment that afternoon when I spotted Peter at his locker, only he wasn't alone.

Of course, he wasn't.

He and Liz stood, bodies pressed together as they gazed into each other's eyes, smiling while they had some meaningless conversation. Her arms were draped around his neck while his hands rested firmly on her hips.

The deep ache from earlier in the day returned, along with a nauseating feeling to accompany it.

I cleared my throat as Ned and I stood in front of them, clearly neither of them noticing us there while they were in their own little world. They both quickly looked over at us in surprise.

A smile spread across Liz's face and she let her arms fall to her sides, Peter releasing his hold on her hips. "Ned! (Y/N)! How are you guys? I haven't seen you in a while!"

It's not that Liz was a jerk about the whole thing. As much as I wanted to hate her guts, she was just as oblivious as Peter was. She was a genuinely kind person, but she had taken the spot I had wanted to fill for years.

And it wasn't even just that. Peter and Liz were one of those sickeningly sweet couples. Like the ones that would poke each other's noses while they argued over who loved the other more. Like the "in-your-face" kind of cute couples.

I just kept quiet as Ned, Peter, and Liz made light conversation, staring at my feet.

"Hey, are you okay?" Liz's voice broke me from my thoughts as I glanced up at her, finding her and both the boys staring at me.

"Yeah, I'm-I'm fine," I offered a half-hearted smile and nod.

"Well, I guess I should probably get going. I have a ton of homework to get done tonight," Ned said. We all said our goodbyes and he walked off down the hall, leaving me alone with Peter and Liz.

"We should probably go, too. (Y/N) and I have a chemistry project to work on." Peter said, turning to Liz and pressing a kiss to her lips, causing me to glance away.

They started muttering "I love you's" back and forth until I finally interjected.

"I'm just gonna wait out front," I muttered, spinning on my heel and walking out the school doors.

Peter jogged down the stairs to my side to catch up with me as I walked away from the school and headed toward the busy streets of New York.

"Hey, wait up," Peter said as he slowed to a walking pace by my side. "You want to run by Delmar's before we head home? We haven't gone together in a while."

Well, there's a first, I thought. He actually noticed for once.

Going to Delmar's had been a regular event for Peter and I before he had started dating Liz. the less we hung out, the less we went, and I hadn't even been to the little sandwich shop in several weeks.

Before I knew it, we were walking in the front door of Peter's apartment, sandwiches in hand, tossing our backpacks on the kitchen table.

"Aunt May shouldn't be home for a couple hours," Peter explained, taking a bite of his sandwich.

We had just read over the worksheet, gathering the items necessary to perform the experiment that the worksheet detailed when Peter's phone began ringing from his backpack. He pulled it off of the table, onto the floor next to him as he dug through it, zipping and unzipping almost every pocket, unable to find his phone anywhere.

I leaned over, reaching my hand into a side pocket, gripping the phone as I pulled it out and handed it to him. He took it, but not before I glanced at the screen, reading the caller ID.

❤️Lizzie❤️

The screen showed a selfie of Peter kissing her cheek.

"Sorry, I gotta take this," Peter said, jumping up from his place on the floor and walking into another room as he answered the phone.

I waited ever so patiently where I was. I had enough time to finish my sandwich, leaving me to wait for him while I sat on the couch upside down, feet in the air, head dangling over the edge of the seat.

I caught part of his conversation about 40 minutes into the call. "No, babe, I can't I have to work on this project with (Y/N)." He paused, laughing softly at something she had said. "You know I'd always rather be with you."

My heart sank at that statement as I sat up, unable to hear anything else that he said to her. I fought back the tears, unwilling to explain the reason for them once Peter finally returned.

"Okay, I should probably go," I heard him say as he walked into the living room where I sat alone.

"Well, I'm not gonna hang up. You're gonna have to," he remarked.

"Not gonna happen." He giggled. "You hang up first."

Fed up with it, I stood and walked over to him.

"You do it! Come on, Li-"

I snatched the phone from his hand, pulling it in front of me and pressing the red button on the screen, ending the call.

"There," I said, tossing the phone on the couch. "Now neither of you have to do it." I gave him a sarcastic smile, turning to walk back into the kitchen so we could get on with the assignment.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?"

"Never better."

"No, no, something's up."

"Really, Peter, I'm fin-"

"Don't even. What's with you recently? You haven't been yourself and you've seemed really irritable and on edge."

My blood began to boil at his words. "No, I haven't."

"Yeah... yeah, you have. For the last couple months or so. Really ever since..." He paused for a moment and he frowned. "Ever since Liz and I got together..."

"Whatever Peter, you're being ridiculous, " I stated, desperate for this conversation to be over.

"Is that what this is about? Me and Liz? Or Liz and I , whatever."

"Seriously, just drop it."

"Do you have a problem with her?"

"No, I don't have a problem with her. Will you just let it go?"

"Or is it that we're dating?"

"No Peter, really, I don't have a problem with her," I stared at him, the anger finally spilling over. "It's you I have a problem with."

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, you." I jabbed a finger at him. "It's not your girlfriend, it's the fact that you've left Ned and I in the dust while you run off with the 'girl of your dreams'." I mocked him, putting air quotes around the phrase. "When was the last time you sat with either of us at lunch or even spoke to either of us at school outside of classes? You haven't even come to movie night in over a month, Peter! When was the last time-"

"What, so you can't be happy for me now that I'm finally dating Liz? Is that really what this is all about? That's why you've been so angry and distant? I finally have this and you can't be happy for me?" He was getting angrier and angrier with each word, and so was I. "I've had a crush on her for two years, (Y/N)! Two years!! And now-"

"TWO YEARS, PARKER?!" I finally broke, screaming at him. "WELL, I'VE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU FOR FIVE YEARS, BUT THAT HASN'T REALLY MATTERED, HAS IT?!"

Silence was what followed, only disturbed by my heavy breaths as I calmed down, watching Peter's face fall in realization.

He stuttered over his words. "(Y/N), I-"

"Don't." I cut him off walking over to pick up my backpack and my papers from the floor. "I'll do what I can at home, and maybe we can finish it during free period tomorrow."

Peter, at a loss for words, didn't say anything as I walked out the door. The tears rolled down my cheeks as I walked down the stairs, passing a confused Aunt May on the way down.

After I kept walking when she asked me what was wrong, she continued on her way up the stairs, hoping to find answers with her nephew in the apartment.

What she found was Peter, still stunned, standing in the middle of the kitchen, with tears in his eyes.

"Peter, what..."

"Aunt May," he sniffled softly. "I messed up."

#peter parker #peter Parker imagine #angst #angsty imagine #imagine #spiderman imagine #infinty war #fanfiction #mcu rp #avengers #spiderman homecoming #spiderman #mcu spiderman

[ficdirectory]

Somewhere Inside (Disuphere series #4) Chapter 35

(To listen, click here) - 12:51

“Before we go, I just wanted to mention...tomorrow and Sunday are Trauma Weekend for me…” Pearl ventures.

“What’s that?” Francesca wonders, glancing up from her drawing.  

“It means...it’s the anniversary of when my trauma happened.  So, things are probably gonna be harder for me.”  Pearl glances at Jesus.  “It would help, I think, for you guys to be aware of that.  And, maybe to check in?  Ask how I am?  But don’t ask about what happened directly. Please.”

“Oh, you mean traumaversary,” Francesca fills in.

“Wait.  There’s a term for it?” Pearl asks.

“Well, in my family, there is,” Dominique offers.  “We have cake.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows, incredulous.  “Why?”

“It helps.  I don’t know.  It takes something powerfully negative and just turns it into power.  Doesn’t have to be cake.  Doesn’t have to be anything.  You do you.  Just putting it out there, if you want advice.”

“I do, yes,” Pearl nods.  “I’ll take any advice I can get.”

“You can watch movies you like.  Read.  Or just talk to us, as needed.  It’s really up to you.  The key is, to treat yourself gently.  Trauma’s hard enough on you.  It doesn’t need your help adding to it…” Dominique shares.

“Hmm…” Pearl muses.  She’s beginning to see why Levi likes hanging out with Dominique.

“I don’t like celebrating mine,” Jesus shares with the group.  “Because it was pretty scary.  I just like it to be as close to a regular day as it can be.  But I like people to ask about how I am, too, like Pearl.”

“And I...I’ve only had one.  And Moms made it really awkward at dinner.  Said how glad they were I was alive and stuff…” Mariana bristles.

“So, they made your anniversary about them?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah.  It was really awkward,” Francesca adds.  “And then they yelled at you in the car on the way home, remember?”

“Yeah,” Mariana sighs.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal if you didn’t go to my concert.  You could see it on YouTube later.  But Moms thought it was a big deal…”

“They said I made them feel guilty...like...not wanting to be in the car that day.  It made them feel like the bad guys.” Mariana mutters.

“Well, they were,” Francesca insists.

“Anyway...I don’t have any advice because my first one was terrible.  So...sorry…” Mariana says.

“Hey, the first one is brutal,” Jesus offers.

“What if...you can’t remember yours?” Levi hesitates.  “Just an age.  Maybe a time of year?  But maybe not?”

“Maybe you count the time it started being a thing?” Dominique asks.  “April-something?”

“Great.  So I stole your birthday and now I stole your trauma month?” Levi sighs, sending a regretful look Pearl’s way.

“Hey.  You didn’t steal anything from me.  You gave me something.  I get to share our birthday.  Now, I get to share our trauma month.  It’s good.  You know, not to be alone with it.”

“I don’t have a trauma month,” Francesca observes, still drawing.

“That’s a good thing, buddy.  We don’t want you to have to have a trauma month.  They’re a scary deal,” Jesus says.  “And we don’t want you to be scared.”

“Hey guys, what are we gonna do for your birthday?” Francesca asks, looking at Levi and Pearl.

Pearl glances at Levi.  “That’s a couple months away,” she tells Francesca.

“So we have two months to plan,” Francesca says happily.

“I appreciate that you wanna plan something, but right now I really need to focus on getting through the next couple days.” Pearl says gently.

“And I have to focus on going to work...which I hate…” Levi rants.

“Hey, I’m coming as backup,” Dominique says.  “Maybe even dressed as Kaz this time,” she smiles.

“And I can go,” Jesus offers.  “I mean, if you guys want.”

“You’d come?” Pearl asks.  “What if Gary recognizes you again?” she asks, thinking back to the last time she and Jesus went shopping at SuperOne together years ago.  Pearl had had no idea Jesus was so recognizable.

“He can borrow my Sadness costume…” Dominique jokes.

“Yeah, being blue wouldn’t make me stick out at all…” Jesus laughs.

“Seriously.  Do you want to take my car?” Pearl asks.  “That way you too have an option for driving around, but staying really local.”

“Nobody has to go,” Levi sighs. “I mean, I do.  But you guys don’t.  I don’t want a repeat of yesterday with everybody having a terrible time because of me.  Just stay.  It’s safer.”

“But not for you,” Pearl insists.  “And I want you to be safe.  As safe as you can be.  You know if that damn store wasn’t ground zero for my trauma, I’d be there in a second.”

“I know.  But you need to be taking it easy this weekend, remember?” Levi says.

“Levi,” Dominique says.  “We wanna go.  We want to be there for you.”

“I want to,” Francesca says.  “I wish it wasn’t late so I could go.  

“You got super tired,” Levi points out, apologetic.

“So?  It was so fun!  Dominique said I could smell all the bread I wanted as long as it was wrapped.  And I looked up sloth videos on her phone.  And I talked to her friend, Lena, from her apartment on video,” Francesca recounts.  She leans across the table and whispers conspiratorially to Jesus: “You should definitely smell the bread.”

“I mean, if I do that, I might end up eating the bread…” Jesus jokes.

“You can, if you pay for it first,” Francesca says, matter of fact.

Unlike her own mother, who would sit silently after a comment like that, or ridicule Pearl for making obvious remarks, Pearl finds herself smiling gently and saying, “That’s true.”

--

Levi does his best to sneak away from the table as the time edges near a quarter to three.  But Dominique has already disappeared into one of the bedrooms.  She comes out in her pink wig, purple contacts and suit.

He catches sight of Jesus across the kitchen filling a big purple lunch bag with snacks.

“Oh, no way!” Pearl sounds happier than Levi’s heard her in days.  Maybe months.

“What?” Jesus asks, confused.

“You still have it?  That old lunch bag I packed for you?” she asks, touched.

“I’ll do you one better,” Jesus says, and unzips the side, pulling out a handful of folded notes.

“Ohhh, you still have these, too?” Pearl gushes.

“What are they?” Francesa asks, curious, and climbing up on a chair to see.  Levi watches as Jesus naturally puts an arm behind her, to steady her.

Levi glances at Mariana while the rest talk about whatever the notes are.  “He’s sentimental,” she says, an explanation that somehow clarifies everything and nothing.  “Hey, take the sanitizer with you.  You might need it.  In case you run into Peanut Butter Cookie.”

“Who?” he asks, a laugh bursting out of him.

“Your trauma.  Peanut Butter Cookie,” Mariana insists, straight-faced.

“Right.” Levi smiles.  “Somehow my trauma sounds way less scary that way…”

“Keep taking away its power,” Mariana advises.  “It gets smaller.  You get stronger.”

“Is that how it works?” he asks.

“I mean, I guess it’s a thing?  Seems to be for Jesus and Dom at least.” Mariana insists.  She really does grab the apple hand sanitizer from the table and put it in his hand.  “Seriously, if it helps you feel more secure, keep it.”

“We should go,” Levi calls out softly.  He nods at Mariana, tucking the small bottle in his pocket.  “We can just take my car, if everybody’s cool with that.  Y’all can drive it around while I’m working.  I don’t care.”

“Just come back for him,” Pearl insists, rushing forward with her arms open.  

“We will, Pearl,” Jesus promises.  “We won’t forget.”

“Please, please, please be so careful.  I’m a nervous wreck at the thought of you being there tonight,” Pearl says, practically smothering Levi in a hug once he opened his arms to accept her.

“I’ll text you on breaks.  So you’ll know I’m fine,” he hugs her tight.

“Send me selfies?” she asks.

“As long as I get you and Cleo ones back…” he agrees.  “Okay, I love you.  I just gotta go.”

“Okay, I love you.  If you really need me, I can come with mace,” Pearl offers, brave.

“No, no need.” Levi insists.  “Thanks, though.”  He makes the rounds, hugging Frankie, who’s about to be real upset if Levi leaves without hugging her, and Mariana who Levi wants to be sure feels seen.

“Have fun tonight,” he tells Francesca.  “Watch a good Disney movie for me.”

“I will.” Francesca agrees.

“And hey, thank you for my secret weapon,” Levi says quietly, embracing Mariana.

“Anytime,” she says, and her hug still feels just as perfect as the first.

--

Jesus surprises himself getting into the front passenger seat willingly.  He’s not even freaked out about it.  It could be that it’s been fourteen years since he got in That Car.  Could be that the trigger of getting in this particular seat has faded with time.  It could be that Levi’s just a kid.  Younger than Jesus.

Whatever the case, Levi’s driving, and Dominique seems to relax, realizing neither Jesus nor Levi will be joining her in the back.

While Levi drives, Jesus asks if he can have Levi’s info.  “So we can text.”

Levi passes it along, and Jesus gives Levi his.  It’s a major act of trust.  “Just don’t share it around?  If you wanna give my info to somebody, just refer them to me first.”

“Yeah, of course.  I’d never give y’all’s numbers to randos.  Or anybody.”

“So...we’ll probably just hang out in the car until it starts getting dark.  Then we’ll come in and see if there’s anything we need.” Jesus passes along when Levi parks.

“Text us if you need us,” Dominique adds.

“Yeah, will do.” Levi scans the parking lot and takes a deep breath.  “She drives a black car.”

“We’ll watch for it,” Jesus promises.

“Actually, let’s go in with him,” Dominique insists.  “Make sure he’s good.”

“You guys don’t ha--” Levi starts, and then, realizing that Jesus, Dominique and Dudley are all getting out of the car.  “Okay, you’re really doing that.”

“Yeah, we really are,” Dominique insists gently.

(Jesus hasn’t heard her use her Kaz voice once since putting on the costume.)

They wait as unobtrusively as possible while Levi gets set up.  Jesus gives the front of the store a once over.  Then, they’re on their way out to Levi’s car.

“Francesca wants a sloth,” Dominique remembers.

“But does she need a sloth?” Jesus smiles.

“I mean, you weren’t here when she was making me watch all the videos about them...and talking about how they were like her…”

“Like her?”

“I didn’t say it, but...slow.  Slow, like her.  Speed-wise.” Dominique shares.  

Jesus laughs.  “That was always her favorite part of Zootopia.  Now I know why…”

She keeps an eye on the parking lot, not letting her guard down until they’re safely back inside Levi’s car.

“Look at this one.  If I buy it for her, can I send it to your place?  Or hers?  Or mine?  I’m kinda freaked out to send anything to your parents’ to be honest.”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one…” Jesus muses.

“You okay?” Dominique asks.

“That’s cool, it actually holds onto her,” Jesus says, looking at the toy Dominique’s found.  “Send it to you.  That way, you can give it to her yourself when we hang out.”

“Is it okay?” Dominique double-checks.  “I mean, it’s not like…  You’re not mad I’m spoiling her?”

“You’re not spoiling her.  It’s one toy.  You said yourself, she feels a connection to it.  I think she’d dig having a little buddy like that clinging onto her.  It’d sure make it easier for her to bring places.” Jesus observes.

“You’re avoiding, Avoider.  We don’t avoid each other.  Unless you don’t wanna say how you are.  In which case, I totally respect that,” Dominique rambles.

Jesus takes an intentional deep breath.  She does, too.  “Dominique.  We are okay.  If you’d feel more comfortable somewhere else, we can go somewhere else.

“No, I got it.  Just...it’s a lot.  It’s been a lot.  You know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he nods.  “But your thing with Francesca?  Your relationship with her?  I appreciate that.  So much.  Not sure if I ever mentioned it.  She really needs you in her life.  She does better.  I think she feels really seen by you.”

“Well, I feel the same,” Dominique says back, reserved.  “So...I’m sorry but I have to ask...I’m not coming on too strong with her?  You’re not mad I’m a bad influence?”

Jesus’s eyes widen.  “Are you kidding?  You’re the best influence.  I’m so glad she has you.  I’m so glad we all do.”

“So, I’m not too much?” Dominique asks.  “Falling apart in front of her?”

“Falling apart in front of her teaches her it’s okay to do,” Jesus points out.  “That’s a good thing.  That’s needed.”

“This is hard,” Dominique admits cryptically, glancing out the window.

“I know,” he echoes.

“But we have each other,” she breathes.  “And Levi has us.”

#fic: somewhere inside

[lostxsea]

The Happiest Place: Chris x Reader

A/N: I originally thought of this happening later in the series Luck but I thought it wouldn’t really work so I switched it to a one shot. Enjoy!

     “Make sure you wear the Lady DisneyBound today,” your best friend yells from the bathroom. The two of you were visiting Disneyland for the first time. It has been planned for three years and you were finally there. It somehow even worked out that you would be getting home around the same time as your boyfriend would since Chris was still finishing filming. He was just a little jealous you got to go, while he was off working.      You roll your eyes at her as you pull out the outfit. You weren’t even sure about bringing the outfit, a brown romper and a dark brown sweater to tie around your waist or wear if you get cold enough. But she insisted and as the romper and blue ribbon could be used for other bounds you compromised.      “Look how cute you are miss Lady,” Eleanor says stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room. Your hair was in two ponies and wavy, a blue ribbon tied in a bow to complete the look. The romper has a peter pan collar, a little lace, long flowy sleeves, and buttons on the shirt part with the shorts being flowy and appearing more as skirt. It had a classical look that is distinctly Lady.     “Thank you, Marie. I expect all the sassy today.” Eleanor laughs as she twirls around in her white dress, a pink ribbon in her hair and two small buns placed on top of her head for her ears.      The walk to the park is not terrible and like always you are glad you chose your high-top converse. It was the one matching part of the two outfits, although you weren’t entirely sure if white was the best option. At the gate, you and Eleanor wait in the line tickets clutched in hand as you argued between which ride to go on first. You argued for the ride that has the longest wait times, while Eleanor pointed out the ride that the two of you most look forward to going on. Whilst arguing, you snap a photo to Chris of the gates. He replies back quickly with a pouting selfie, reminding you to eat some dole whip for him. You reply back with a quick “will do!” message before placing your phone in your bag as you and Eleanor get swiped in.       “Come one, please Y/N! We’ve waited so many years to go on it since Disney World doesn’t have it!”       “But the Guardian’s ride has the longest wait so if we go there we would have a better chance of not having a long wait,” you try and reason with her.       “But it’s the same as Tower of Terror. Indiana Jones’ ride though has no equivalent! Please,” she pouts with puppy dog eyes and everything. You sigh thinking that you were already in the main park to see the castle and you might as well stay for that one ride and then hop over to Guardians.       “Indiana Jones then Guardian’s,” you point at her as she jumps around. “But, we take cute photos at the castle, while we have some time.” She gives you a hug before hurrying on. You pull out two snack bars handing on to Eleanor.       “Thanks y/n/n!”        “Good thing one of us is on the ball cause if not there would be too hangry adults becoming frustrated with each other.” She laughs opening the wrapper to start eating.       “No one needs either of us grouchy today.”       “It’s the happiest place in the freaking world.”        “My point.” Her phone vibrates and you check your own as she picks it back up. You open a message from Chris, who asks if you got to any rides yet. You respond in the negative before finishing your bar, Eleanor already done.       “Picture time,” you ask her and she nods.       “Same pose as Disney World,” she asks you and you nod laughing as you remember how many takes it took to get it. To your surprise neither of you were hurt in the making of that photo. Well, a bruise or two doesn’t really count.       You manage to weave your way through the crowd and into a small little area close enough to the front of the castle. “Pull up the photo and I’ll go find someone.” You laugh before going to stand near the railing, Bria running off to find someone. Once you look up with the old photo projected on your screen for reference, you see her dragging Chris along, her own phone in hand.        He smiles brightly at you as you stand frozen in place for a moment. You haven’t seen him in just over four months. Eventually after a few tentative and slow steps forward, you run to him, hugging him tightly as you laugh.  “Little miss lady,” he whispers before kissing you, not caring about being in public. You smile into the kiss before pulling away looking to see him wearing his grey Henley and practically grey jeans.        “I would say you are more of a prince then a tramp,” you tell him with a wink before giving him another quick kiss. Eleanor walks over to you two. “How long has this been planned?” You give her a tight side hug.        “For a few days, Chris worked out his schedule so he would be able to finish a few days early and join us in time for our first Disney day. Plus I did some “networking” and convinced Chris to invite someone else/convinced said person to come.” You look between the two of them questioningly before a familiar voice rings out close by calling out for Chris.      “Boo Bear,” Chris exclaims as Sebastian Stan approaches the group. Seb hangs his head as he walks over. You chuckle as you offer him a smile. You can see him shaking his head as he joins the three of you, obviously left behind by Chris at some point.         “How are you, Boo Bear,” you tell him as you give him a hug. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”       “Far too long,” he replies hugging you back before moving over to Eleanor. “Nice to meet you Eleanor. The famous Eleanor might I add.”       “Although, I’m the only one that isn’t actually famous. It’s nice to actually meet you though.”       “You better be ready to ride some rides,” Seb informs her.       “Of course, Boo Bear.” He sighs.        “Come on Elephant, I need one person on my side.”       “We got some photos to take before any rides,” you remind them, although really Eleanor. She sighs before going to stand next to you pushing Chris out of the photo. She winks at him before Seb takes the photo of the two of you. “One more.” He nods as Chris starts talking to him, Seb laughing as he did. You look at Eleanor and get into positioning yelling to Seb how to take the photo so it’s exact. He takes it and hands you the phone. “It’s pretty accurate.”       “Amazingly so,” Eleanor comments. She takes your phone from your hand. “Now you and Chris.” You smile as you take Chris’s hand pulling him over to the railing. He laughs at your level of energy and he stands next to you.       “Okay, how about you twirl me around,” you ask him. “Or we dance like Belle and the Beast.” The two of you get into position and dance around clumsily for a moment before getting into a rhythm. It reminded you of the time you and Chris danced along, while watching Beauty and the Beast and you kind of forget that you are not in Chris’s living room, but in Disneyland. Chris spins you around a few times, even dipping you. He sneaks a kiss before pushing you back up to your feat. You giggle as you walk a few steps before turning around back at him. Your heart beat quickens as you look to see him down on one knee, a ring box opened in hand. You slowly walk towards him.       “I could say a lot Y/N but I’ll save it for another time. Just know that you are perfectly imperfect, that I love you most ardently, that I will always be your prince in shining armour.”       “Yes,” you blurt out and he shakes his head.       “You gotta let me ask first.” You chuckle as he stands up. “Will you marry me?”        You walk over to him and give him a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “I’m taking that as a yes. Also, you didn’t let me finish my speech.” He takes your hand and slides the ring onto your finger.       “Well, I’m impatient. Plus, we really need to start riding some rides.” He laughs heartily, before giving you another kiss, holding you close to him. Feeling a tap to your shoulder, you look to see Seb holding up Bride and Groom mouse ears.       “Hate to break the two of you up but,” Seb says.       “Omg Seb!” He laughs as he hands you the bride one and gives Chris the groom one.       “Was not my idea, Chris just sent me to go pick them up for him.” You look to Chris and give him a kiss before dragging him away to the first ride.       “We need to go guys,” you tell them. “The lines aren’t going to get shorter.” The three just laugh following behind you to the first ride. Chris hurries to walk beside you and you wrap your arm around him tightly. “Thank you.”       “Thank you.” He kisses the top of your head and you momentarily close your eyes.       “It really is the happiest place on earth.” He chuckles as you get into line, which luckily is not too long yet. Eleanor and Sebastian right behind you. Eleanor walks over and gives you a hug congratulating you.       Sebastian asks, “can I be the first one to post something?!”       Chris thinks for a moment before looking at you. “It might be interesting to see everyone freak out and it would be better than someone randomly snapping a picture. I mean the mouse ears give us away.”       “That’s a good point.” So, Sebastian posts one of the pictures on his story, while your group slowly moves up the line. It was a picture of you dragging Chris behind you, neither of your faces shown. He captioned it “A lady with her tramp.”       “Everyone might think we got married.”       “Soon,” Chris adds. “But not yet.”       “Just get married today,” Eleanor says as she takes your phone to send the pictures to herself. “Might as well since we are already in Disneyland and we all know you’ll have a wedding here.”

A/N:  If anyone would like to read a part two, let me know but for now I am going to just leave this as a one shot.

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine

[zephfair]

Day 1 Bleach ficlet Grimmichi

Day 1: Boyband AU

Rated T for language

Grimmjow/Ichigo

From this 30-Day AU Challenge by tomowowowo and boomchickfanfiction

“Are you ready yet, Ichigo?” Rukia knocked harder on the hotel room door, and Ichigo swore under his breath.

“Just a minute,” he called back, scowling his trademark expression as he fought to get his hair tousled just right. He’d already spent far longer in the bathroom than he normally did but he’d heard enough times from Rukia that it was a Very Important Night and he couldn’t disappoint.

Finally satisfied with his reflection, he grabbed his jacket and opened the door to find Rukia waiting.

“Get on the ball. We will not be late,” she informed him.

“Yes ma’am.”

Rukia rolled her eyes at the heavy sarcasm but led him to join the others in the hotel lobby. Ichigo wondered again why she even bothered to keep her job as a personal assistant—or cat wrangler as she called it because “have you ever tried to herd cats, Ichigo? It’s impossible, just like trying to deal with your sorry asses.”

But she did her best to help keep track of the most popular boyband on the planet, Shinigami.

Ichigo still had trouble believing he was a member of Shinigami and when she was in a mood, Rukia told him she doubted it too. If only the millions of fangirls and boys knew the things she did about the carefully coiffed, professionally styled, perfectly polished group.

The group members had been chosen as much for their appeal to each and any fan’s taste as for their musical and vocal abilities.

Byakuya: the silent, strong, stoic one who was hot in a distinctly grown-up way. Renji: the smirking one who looked like a rebel with his loud hair and eye-catching tattoos. Toshiro: the smol adorably grumpy one who the fans dreamed of being able to make smile. Hanatarou: the cute boy next door who brought out the protective side of every girl or boy who ever saw him stumble through a dance routine and daydreamed of catching him when he inevitably fell off the stage into a fan’s arms.

And Ichigo: the handsome energetic one who looked like a bad boy punk but was actually a total sweetheart who doted on his little sisters and did volunteer work with children. Or so he was described by the public relations corps.

Each member had been carefully selected by the record label to be the perfect ingredients in a successful and popular boy group. Their diverse looks and public personas were also squeaky clean and therefore palatable to all the parents who held the purse-strings of their tweens and teens.

Ichigo still liked to believe that his vocal talent played in a role in him being chosen for the group. Somehow.

Byakuya was giving him The Look now, and motioning Rukia to his side. Even then Ichigo could clearly hear his admonition for Rukia to stay close at Ichigo’s side all night and “keep him away from any...undesirables.”

Ichigo scowled again. He pretended not to know to whom Byakuya was referring.

Their usual security detail led by Zaraki manhandled them through the screaming crowd of fans that somehow always managed to find their hotels and into the waiting SUVs. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief when he was safely inside then patted down his clothes to make sure they were still all there.

Rukia was cackling from the very rear seat that she shared with Renji who was looking a little paler than usual and clutching his head bandanna.

“Dude, what happened?” Ichigo eyeballed his extreme reaction.

“One of them pinched my ass while another grabbed at my hair,” the traumatized Renji answered. Then he elbowed Rukia who was holding her stomach from laughing. “They’re getting worse!”

“Oh Renji. The look on your face was priceless,” she sputtered.

Renji crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Ichigo turned to let them have the little bit of alone time they could sneak together, away from prying eyes, but then Rukia poked him in the back of the head.

“The you-know-whos are going to be there tonight, so Byakuya commanded me to follow you around. He wants you on your best behavior because this merger could be very good for both our labels. But I would like to actually enjoy an industry party for once with my boyfriend,” Rukia poked him again harder, “so I’m going to ask you, just this once, as my friend, please don’t screw it up.”

Ichigo was immediately offended that she thought he would fuck it up. “I am offended that you think I will fuck it up,” he told her and swatted away at her poking finger.

“We all know what happens every time single time you run into him.”

“Who are you talking about?” Renji chimed in, apparently getting over his sulk in the face of Rukia’s indifference.

“The Arrancars. Their lead guitarist,” Rukia told him.

“Oh yeah, the big blue bastard,” Renji said. “Yeah, you do seem to get into a lot of fights with him.”

“Yes. Fights.” Rukia said in a carefully even voice.

Ichigo was glad it was dark enough to hide his hot face. “I can’t help it. He’s such an egotistical asshole. He’s always making fun of me, of us, for being in a ‘boyband.’” Ichigo made sure they could see his air quotes. “As if we don’t actually work just as hard as his douchey rock band. I’d like to see them commit to the kind of tours we do, with all the dancing and choreography and the vocal work. All he’s gotta do is strut out there in his ridiculous tight leather pants and play his stupid guitar and give that asinine smirk to all the girls...”

There was a pause before Rukia slapped the back of his head. “You can’t let him rile you up so much. Control yourself.”

“I am controlling myself,” Ichigo snapped. “I always control myself.”

“Sure,” Rukia made it a three-syllable word. “That’s why I always find you in dark corners, shadowed balconies and, in one particularly memorable occasion, a broom closet with him.” She coughed. “Fighting.”

“He’s a fuckwit,” Ichigo refused to give in. “And he was drunk.”

“Every time?”

“He’s always drunk.”

“You barely drink, so what’s your excuse?”

“That he’s a total fuckwit.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you. I’m just asking you—for once—to rein it in and stay away from him. And if he comes after you,” Rukia held up a hand to forestall his argument, “just smile and ignore him. And for the love of all that’s holy, do not go anywhere alone with him. I really do not want to walk in on that. Again. Byakuya refuses to pay me for the emotional distress that’s caused.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Ichigo deadpanned.

“Babe, you shouldn’t go trying to break up their fights. That could be dangerous,” Renji said.

She waved off his honest concern. “I have nothing to be afraid of when they’re alone together.”

“But I’ve seen them fight,” Renji insisted. “They start off bitching and yelling at each other, but soon or later, one of them takes a swing.”

“And then the other one pulls them out somewhere where they won’t be disturbed,” Rukia finished. “It’s very simple, Renji, but I’m not surprised you’re the only one who hasn’t caught on.”

“Caught on to what?” Now Renji was the one offended.

“That they fight best alone. With their mouths.” She gave him a look that went right over Renji’s head so she sighed and tried again. “Ichigo likes to punch him in the mouth. Softly. With his own mouth. And sometimes other body parts.”

Ichigo couldn’t turn to watch Renji mutter the words back until it clicked. He hunched his shoulders when Renji yelled, “Oh my god!” and slapped his back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting it on with that asshat?”

“Because he’s an asshat,” Ichigo said and tried to shrink further. “And we aren’t getting it on.”

“You mean you aren’t seeing each other? Or hooking up?”

“No, no way.” Ichigo shrugged. “It’s only when we see each other and he opens his mouth and pisses me off. Then somehow we’re pushing and shoving and all I want to do is hit him. But instead it ends up with one of us on our knees or—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Renji interrupted. “If Byakua isn’t paying for Rukia’s therapy, he sure as hell isn’t going to pay for mine. But if this happens a lot, and you enjoy it apparently, then why don’t you hook up for real?”

“I’m not interested,” Ichigo said.

“It’s only every awards show, red carpet event, label party, any and every time your bands cross paths,” Rukia told Renji sotto voce.

“Jeez, Ichigo. Even if the dude is a complete assmunch, you could give it a try,” Renji suggested.

“If we were left alone for more than 30 minutes, I’d kill him,” Ichigo said flatly.

“Well, you know what they call the little death,” Rukia tittered and when Renji inquired she informed him, “Orgasms, Renji. Don’t you ever read? Ichigo, just keep it together tonight. Don’t let him bait you. Don’t go anywhere alone with him. Don’t stick your tongue down his throat or your hand down his pants or your mouth down his—”

“I got it, thanks. I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

“Thank yo—”

“As long as he doesn’t start anything.”

Rukia knew how that would end. “Fuck.”

*******

Ichigo kept his promise. He tried. He tried so hard to be on his model boyband behavior. He smiled until his cheeks ached from the unaccustomed strain. He shook hands and kissed cheeks. He laughed at bad jokes. He posed for selfies with several of the VIPs who wanted a picture for a young relative. He even left a couple voice mails specifically for the children of several of the bigwigs.

And it all went to hell when Rukia sidled up to him and hid her mouth behind her champagne flute. “The Arrancars are finally here. Unfashionably late.”

“Probably busy with another orgy on their tour bus.” Ichigo snatched a flute off a nearby tray and drained it quickly.

“They do have some wild times,” Rukia sighed, making him choke. “I have some crazy memories of one party in a hotel room that left the place trashed. Stereotypical rock star nonsense but wow.” She met Ichigo’s shocked expression and smiled evilly. “Just because you can’t get along with them doesn’t mean that everyone is off limits. I’ve had some fun times with Nel.”

“Nel seems cool,” Ichigo reluctantly agreed. “I just get so pissed off that Grimmjow thinks we’re so beneath them just because we’re called a boyband.”

“I know how important music is to you, Ichigo. And I know damn well how hard you work. Don’t be angry just because of Shinigami’s reputation. The Arrancars are decidedly not family safe,” she ignored his muttered orgies, “so you have different audiences. That doesn’t mean one is better than the other. You’re just different.”

“And that’s why I can’t be myself unless I break off and pursue a solo career.”

Rukia hushed him immediately. “Don’t say that out loud. Mr. Aizen might hear you.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “I thought that if this merger went through, things could change with the label.”

“Maybe, possibly.” Rukia chewed her lip for a second, indecision looking odd on her face. “Brother has said some things, and I know that Aizen handles a lot of the rock and indie acts, but Ichigo, you have to leave Shinigami on good terms, the best terms, actually, if you want them to ever sign you as a solo artist.”

“I know,” he sighed and touched her shoulder. “I know you’re just trying to help me, and thank you. Thanks for being my friend.”

“You can keep thanking me, just come with me right now.” Rukia was staring directly over his shoulder but when she pulled at his hand, he refused to move. He had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“Hey, lookie who it is. The juicy little strawberry,” came the onerous, obnoxious, unbearably smooth voice behind him. Ichigo felt as much as heard someone taking loud breaths into the top of his hair. “Would ya look at that? The teenybopper even smells like fucking strawberry. Mmm, I could just eat you up.” That was growled directly into his ear.

“Hello, Grimmjow. How are you tonight?” Ichigo kept his eyes locked on Rukia even as Grimmjow moved beside him and slung an arm over his shoulders.

“Fine, fine. Livin’ the dream. We just sold out our next three shows. How’s it going, playing up to all those little girls?”

“It’s going well, actually. I’m sure you’ve heard that Shinigami sold out every show on their upcoming tour,” Rukia said in her usual cool tone.

Ichigo could feel Grimmjow’s sneer. “I didn’t realize there were that many preschoolers around the country, or is it their mommies you like dancing for? That give you a thrill, shaking your ass for all the little girls and their mommies?”

Ichigo knew the smack on his ass was coming but he still almost bit his tongue. “At least our dancing looks a hell of a lot better than whatever it is you do up there on stage. I saw some footage and wondered if you were trying dancing or having a seizure.”

“I just go where the music takes me. And it gets me into a whole lot more panties than—”

“Would you look at that, Ichigo? Renji is calling us over,” Rukia blatantly lied because Renji was making his way through the crowd to them, waving happily, but Ichigo could appreciate her attempt to get him out of the situation.

“We have to go, Grimmjow. It wasn’t a pleasure, as always,” Ichigo said as he slipped out from under the muscled arm.

He was pretty sure he’d be able to count every one of Grimmjow’s teeth from the snarl but just then his bandmate Nnoitra pushed a beer bottle into his hand to distract him. Ichigo thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one being pushed into good behavior that night. Nnoitra just rolled his eye and started badmouthing the other guests to Grimmjow.

Ichigo followed Rukia who had retrieved Renji and set them on another goodwill round of the room keeping them as far from Grimmjow as possible. Ichigo sneaked peeks at him when he thought she wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t hard to keep track of him, not with his blue hair and decidedly rocker outfit of black leather pants and vest with only a bright purple tank underneath and a clunky silver choker around his neck. Ichigo found himself wanting to pull back on that choker to make Grimmjow expose the long cords of his neck. He already knew just how Grimmjow would moan and curse if Ichigo nibbled in the right places. Of course that was when Grimmjow looked up and met his eyes directly, smirking into his beer bottle before running his tongue around the opening and dipping it inside.

Ichigo hurriedly looked away.

Since Grimmjow and most of the Arrancars had taken up places at the bar, Ichigo couldn’t even get a drink except the champagne that roving waiters offered, and Rukia had cut him off after three.

He was tired from the long day and especially from acting like the lovable personality that Shinigami claimed he had, and he really just wanted to get a breath of fresh air. Or run away to the coast where he could relax and play his guitar all day. But right then, he’d settle for a moment away from the alternatively fawning and demanding executives.

When Rukia excused herself to the ladies’ room, Ichigo slipped away, not feeling any guilt about leaving Renji on his own. He’d never been to this particular luxury hotel, but he knew that all of them seemed to have a courtyard or pool somewhere that would be lonely that time of night.

He followed the faint scent of chlorine to a huge outdoor pool lined with chairs and lounges. Most of the lights were out for the night but the pool itself was illuminated with underwater light, and he was drawn by the beauty of the water rippling and the shadows it created.

He thought about kicking off his shoes and dipping his feet into the water, but instead took a lounge chair nearby in the shadows, next to a tiny deserted cabana for changing. He spread out and stretched, feeling better for the moment.

Of course it wouldn’t last.

“So this where you ran away to,” came the detestable voice, although slightly quieter than usual.

“I didn’t run away,” Ichigo said, keeping his voice also quiet as the night seemed to demand.

“You’re such a pussy,” Grimmjow informed him as he kicked the end of the lounge chair.

“Uh-huh, why’s that?”

“Because you let them walk all over you. You let them mold you into this little perfect idol image when inside, you’d fit in better with the Arrancars.”

“Womanizing, drunken, wannabe rockers?”

Grimmjow showed his teeth again but he didn’t disagree. “Wouldn’t that be more fun than having your Photoshopped poster hanging in every little girl’s room so they can cry themselves to sleep at night dreaming about you?”

Ichigo wanted to rise to the bait, he really truly did, but in that moment, he was tired. Tired of all of it. “You’re right, Grimmjow. I’ve always dreamed about being a performer, writing my own songs, playing my own shit, singing whatever I want to. But hey, if joining Shinigami got my foot in the door, then you know what? Fuck you. I have a career in music, I can keep doing what I love, and someday, maybe I’ll be able to do more.”

Grimmjow snorted loudly and the moment was gone. “Sounds like a bunch of bullshit excuses to me.” He kicked the lounge again. “You gotta go for what you really want. And be willing to fight for it.”

“I read that story about you in Rolling Stone, you know,” Ichigo said and Grimmjow froze in the motion of lighting a cigarette. “I thought it was really interesting, you talking all about your first band, your best friends playing in your buddy’s garage. How you like taking your guitar to the beach at night to write. And the most interesting part, really informational actually, was about how Sousuke Aizen picked you for lead guitarist of the Arrancars and how your buddies went on to act as roadies. So don’t get all high and mighty with me about how pure you are.”

“You son of a bitch.” Grimmjow’s cigarette and bottle hit the concrete with a crash as he leaned forward to grab Ichigo’s shirt and lift his chest out of the chair.

Ichigo moved quickly and broke his hold, rolling off the opposite side of the lounge as Grimmjow threw a punch where his head had been. He bounced to his feet and they glared at each other across the lounge.

“What? Did I hit a sore spot?”

“You fucking diva, how dare you—”

“I am so fucking sick of you always getting in my face and—”

“Dammit, you—”

“Always making fun—”

Grimmjow grabbed at him but the lounge chair tripped him up long enough for Ichigo to slip away again. He put his back to the cabana so Grimmjow couldn’t push him into the pool but soon realized his mistake when Grimmjow just kicked the lounge out of his path and stalked him.

“I am not going to fight you,” Ichigo lifted his chin and gave his sternest look.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Grimmjow caught his chin and tilted it up further then smothered his protest with his lips.

Ichigo huffed out a laugh through his nose when the kiss made him remember the silly description Rukia had said earlier. Grimmjow noticed his distraction. He nipped Ichigo’s bottom lip then pulled at it as he broke the kiss, stretching it hard for an instant.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” He mouthed hard at the hinge of Ichigo’s jaw then licked it and went right to the spot below Ichigo’s ear that made him melt.

“Just something Rukia said tonight. About us fighting.”

“Shit. So they’re all catching on to our thing?”

Ichigo pulled back reluctantly, just far enough to see Grimmjow’s eyes. “We have a thing?”

Grimmjow shrugged. “Fighting as foreplay. I like fighting with you as much as I like,” he grabbed Ichigo’s crotch in a crude finish to his statement.

“Well, Rukia told Renji that I punch you softly in the mouth. With my mouth. It was pretty funny.”

“Not softly,” Grimmjow bit his lip harder as his hand began to knead firmly.

“We could sometimes,” Ichigo breathed into Grimmjow’s hot mouth and took a giant leap. “You could come back to my room and we could do it in an actual bed.”

Grimmjow’s mouth and hand stopped, and Ichigo swore he could feel Grimmjow thinking before he said, “If I do that, how am I gonna sneak out before the rest of the little boys see me?”

“Well, you should probably stay until they go down to breakfast and then we’ll figure out something.”

“So you don’t want me to stay for breakfast?”

Ichigo swallowed hard and met his eyes. “If you want to stay for breakfast, they have great room service. Lunch and dinner too.”

The grin was slow and still showed too many teeth but it was also surprisingly sincere. “I guess I could find out.”

“Cool,” Ichigo said, palming the back of his head and pulling him back down for another kiss.

“But first...” Grimmjow pushed Ichigo’s back against the cabana door. “Don’t you wanna go skinny-dipping?”

“And be caught by all those label execs bare-assed naked? Hell no. Let’s save that for my room. Why don’t we just...”

Grimmjow’s rumbling moan was answer enough.

*******

Rukia didn’t yell when she got back and saw Renji alone. He was so obviously feeling bad about letting her down and losing Ichigo that it took all the fun out of smacking him. Instead she’d defer his punishment to later.

Then Byakuya joined them and cut right to the chase. “Shouldn’t you be out finding Ichigo?”

“He could be anywhere, brother,” she pointed out. “He promised he would be on his best behavior tonight.”

“You know he’s out there looking for a fight with that Jaegerjaques,” Byakuya said.

“A fight, yes,” Rukia exchanged looks with Toshiro who merely rolled his eyes as he joined them.

“I believe I saw Grimmjow heading toward the pool a little while ago,” Toshiro said helpfully.

“Then why don’t you go retrieve Ichigo. I’ll make our excuses and we can then leave,” Byakuya said and Rukia demurred with a slight head bow.

Renji offered to join her but she stalked off alone. God help that fool when she found him, if he was doing what she thought he was doing, She didn’t care if she’d have to borrow a ladder to reach them, she would love to just bang their heads together.

On second thought, it seemed they were doing all right banging together, she smirked as she approached the dark cabana. She took a long moment to enjoy the low moans and breathy groans coming from inside and smiled outright. She’d wait a few minutes before shouting for Ichigo.

And she’d have a quiet word with her brother. Maybe it was time for a musical collaboration, one that could finally get the two off their asses. Maybe they had vastly different audiences, but sometimes that could make it even better. Especially if the two brought even half their passion to their music.

It would surely be a chart topper.

#my fic #grimmichi #bleach fic #my 30 days #fluff and nonsense #AU fic

[himbowelsh]

Bob ships: who's the rock star? who's the fan who tags along on tour with them?(*cough cough* groupie *cough cough*) ❤🎸

WINNIX

nix is a celebrity stalker. that’s literally his job.

he’s like the paparazzi, but twice as cunning and twice as shitty. his job is to catch celebrities at their most unguarded. this can involve hiding in bushes, sneaking into hotel rooms, and even pretending to be a limo driver just to catch the money shot.

(it’s not like he needs the money. he took a photo of a kardashian once for kicks, got paid huge dollars for it, and decided this sounded more fun than working for his father.)

his latest assignment: to infiltrate the inner sanctum of richard “dick” winters, country and slow rock megastar.

dick has a squeaky clean public reputation. he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t party, he’s never gotten into any fights with the paparazzi. he doesn’t even have any parking tickets (nix checked). he’s the most boring celebrity nix has ever encountered.

nix pulls his favorite stunt – he waits until room service is cleaning dick’s hotel room, then sneaks in and hides in the closet.

(90% of what nix does is technically illegal, but he figures it’s not that illegal if he doesn’t get caught.)

when dick comes back from his show that night, he seems tired. he puts him guitar down, runs a hand through his hair and takes off his shirt.

nix is just ready to get the money shot (or at least a photo of shirtless dick winters) when he accidentally jostles a hanger in the closet. the noise catches dick’s attention. he spins around, and in two seconds nix is being hauled out of the closet.

“who are you?” dick demands, tossing nix down on the bed. he doesn’t look furious, but he also doesn’t look like he for sure won’t call the cops, so nix weighs his risks.

“well, mister winters, this is a hell of a way to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand. “lewis nixon. how about i call you dick?”

“how about i call the police?” replies dick, raising an eyebrow.

“well… you could do that… but then you’d miss out on some very simulating conversation, and a story you’re not going to believe…”

nix has no clue how he does it, but somehow he manages to talk dick out of reporting him. in exchange, he promises not to take any pictures of him, and get out of his hair. dick has a better idea.

(maybe he’s a little intrigued by the smart-mouthed paparazzi who doesn’t seem afraid of anything.)

they eat lunch together the next afternoon. dick has to leave the city the next day, but nix gives him his number and promises that if he needs anything, just give him a call.

they run into each other every so often after that – nix often isn’t that far behind dick. their meetings are friendly, getting friendlier each time. no matter how hard he tries, nix has no idea how he let himself fall in love with a celebrity.

SPEIRTON

carwood lipton does not have a problem.

he’s not the type of guy who goes out clubbing every night. he doesn’t blast electro music through the house, he doesn’t drag his friends out on weekends to dance at the local clubs. he is not an obsessive fan.

if he owns every single track that a particular DJ Sparky has released on Spotify, well, that doesn’t mean he has a problem.

(he also has dozens of magazine clippings of him, has watched the approximately two interviews sparky has given in his lifetime, and can recite everything the public knows about him from memory. this does not mean he has a problem.)

“you,” his friend george proclaims one day, after having discovered the photo album of magazine clippings carwood keeps on sparky, “have a problem.”

“no, i don’t.” carwood is so deep in denial that he’s underground.

“well, it’s a good thing you do, because i’m about to make your day.”

with a flourish, luz unveils two tickets to a DJ sparky show. carwood almost has a heart attack on the spot.

(he tackles luz. he’s never done that in his life. for a moment, luz is terrified that he’s managed to break him.)

they’ve only been in the club for five minutes before carwood ditches luz in the middle of the dance floor. he feels bad about it, and it’s not like he does it on purpose, but he sees sarky dj’ing, customary hood and sunglasses on his head, and something in him just short-circuits. he needs to get closer -- he needs to be able to see him.

he stays by the DJ station for the entire show, just losing himself in the music. the jams sparky spins are legendary, and they can take carwood to a completely different universe.

as son as the show ends, he has a book clutched in his hands, intent on getting an autograph. he doesn’t want to freaky sparky out, but he needs to meet him, even though he doesn’t want to come on to strong, and he’s coming this way --

“you’ve been watching me all night,” is the first thing sparky says. carwood feels like he’s going to faint.

“i have... sorry, it’s just, my name’s carwood and i’m such a huge fan... you’re amazing. i can hardly even believe i’m meeting you right now...”

carwood lipton is not a man who gets tongue-tied, okay? this is humiliating for him, and he can feel his face growing hotter with every word. he wants to melt into the floor on the spot. sparky is going to think he’s an idiot.

then, just like that, sparky pulls his hood and glasses off. he’s never revealed his face in any of his photo ops, co carwood had no clue what he looked like until that point.

he’s dazzled. sparky is grinning at him, wamr and mischievous, and he feels like he’s gone to heaven.

“nice to meet you, carwood,” sparky says, holding out a hand. “i’m ron. it’s great to meet my biggest fan.”

BABEROE

babe is not a groupie, okay? he doesn’t care what anyone else (coughbillcough) says, and he’s definitely not obsessed with his favorite band.

lueur de lune is a duo who performs mainly relaxed indie music, duets, and covers of classic songs. renee lemaire is from belgium, and has been singing since she was a child. babe has scanned through the videos of her on youtube, favorited elementary school talent contests and middle school charity concerts. gene roe’s history is a lot harder to track. as far as babe can figure out, he was from louisiana, and only began singing a few years ago. aside from him having met renee on a trip to europe, babe honestly knows nothing about the enigmatic second half of the band.

lueur de lune has only been performing together for a couple of years. they’re not even the style of music babe usually listens to. instead of pounding beats and frenetic bass drops, the two singers go back and forth in relaxed rhythms that never fail to calm babe down. they’ve become his comfort music.

(gene roe’s face may have also become his comfort face, but he’s not going to admit that.)

because the band is pretty low-profile, he often has no clue where they’re touring. he eats up every mention of them on the web, devours their rare interviews (where renee is bubbly and gene frustratingly reticent), and plays their singles hundreds of times.

everything changes when spina auditions and wins a spot as a drummer for “some indie band that needs a few background members”.

babe doesn’t know – he has no clue – until spina sends him a selfie from rehearsals one day.

spina’s grinning on one side of the picture. on the other, staring into the camera with his usual intense gaze, is a face that almost makes babe’s heart stop.

it’s gene roe.

IT’S GENE FREAKING ROE.

babe goes nuts.

he spends all night begging spina to take him to rehearsal – and when he says no, he sneaks into the trunk of his car.

(you’ve gotta die sometime, right? spina might kill him, but at least he’ll have seen gene)

somehow he makes it past spina without getting caught – and poses as an intern. the band doesn’t have an intern, they can’t afford one, but babe doesn’t care. he takes everyone’s orders and runs to starbucks.

he spends the rest of the day – the rest of the week, to spina’s utmost disdain – shadowing gene. gene is baffled, but tolerant, of his “greatest fan”. renee thinks it’s hilarious. spina has already tried to smother babe in his sleep twice.

babe is just eating up any information he can get about gene. slowly, the star-quality is beginning to wear off – eventually gene will just be another regular guy. until then, he’s more than happy to embrace the role of intern – and groupie.

WEBGOTT

webster wants to report on the wildlife section of his local newspaper, but instead he gets assigned to cover the concert a band is throwing downtown.

he’s got no previous knowledge of the band, and no interest. frankly, the black and blues sound like your average grunge rock band that’s going to fade out in a few years or less. their drummer, talbert, is more interested in flirting than music, and their guitarist, grant, was out for a week with a concussion after trying to break up a fight in the audience of their last show. 

it’s not until he meets the lead singer that web really feels a spark of interest for the assignment.

not just interest. inspiration. awe. he’s found his muse in the form of messy hair, a killer smirk, and a leather jacket that shines under the stage lights.

joe liebgott is everything a rock star should be, and he’s hasn’t even played outside of the state yet.

web isn’t head over heels for the guy. liebgott is infuriating. he’s temperamental, argumentative, and can be downright cruel. he’s also a beacon of talent, and hypnotizing on stage. he’s everything webster could have wanted to write about, and web is…

awed.

(okay, so maybe he’s a little in love.)

after his article is written, he sticks around with the group. he’s determined to take on a side job as their publicist, and the band likes him enough that they let him stick around. they tease him, but webster doesn’t care – he loves the articles he writes for them, and he loves his job.

(and if the thing he loves most is getting to banter with liebgott every day, he can deal with that.)

LUZTOYE

whenever a celebrity needs their reputation revamped, they call george luz. the man is an expert at PR – he can turn a celebrity from a delinquent to a charity-leading golden boy in less than a month. he has a history of turning around people’s careers using charm, PR stunts, and no small amount of humor.

luz is damn good at what he does.

joe toye, as it happens, is in dire need of a revamped reputation. his former group, the one that made his name famous, has just broken up. toye is determined to start a solo rock career, but his public image has taken a big hit thanks to a bar fight that he didn’t start, but definitely finished.

(a guy may have been punched through a plate-glass window. joe reiterates that he didn’t start it.)

when luz agrees to work with joe, he knows he’s got a big job ahead of him. he’s surprised by how down to earth joe is, however. for a fast paced rock star, he would have expected joe to have an ego. instead he proves himself to be down-to-earth, not going out of his way to draw attention to himself.

(”i don’t like the spotlight,” joe tells luz once they’ve started to build trust between them. “i love to perform. that’s it. i don’t care about all the attention.”  luz gotten to know a lot of celebrities, but after hearing these words he can’t help but respect joe more than all of them.)

luz is the one who arranges public appearances for joe. he’s got the rock star volunteering at animal adoption drives, food banks, and charities. joe feels a little awkward at first (a big part of him is convinced it’s only for the photo opportunity, not for any better reason) but luz alleviates his discomfort when he volunteers next to him.

george is annoying, overly-friendly,and great at bugging the hell out of joe. he also has the ability to smooth over every social situation, and raises joe’s morale when he isn’t sure he has any left. he starts to genuinely enjoy spending time with his PR rep.

soon tabloids start reporting on the mysterious man seen next to joe toye during all his public appearances. it just takes a little research to uncover who luz is, but it’s a lot more fun to speculate that he might be joe’s lover instead.

george and joe are baffled by the allegations, but not upset by them. they sort of laugh them off until one night after joe’s show, when they both celebrate a little too much, and get a little too friendly with each other.

when george wakes up in joe’s bed the next morning, there’s a tabloid resting on the pillow next to him. “JOE TOYE AND MYSTERY BEAU TAKE ON THE TOWN”.

george smirks and pins the page up on joe’s fridge. “well, mystery beau,” he quips, “you feelin’ like being a little more discreet?”

joe gives a gravelly chuckle that drives luz wild. “what’s the point?”

(george has never fallen for any of his clients before, either, but it’s obvious that joe is a special case. he might be breaking his own rule of staying out of the public eye himself, but he isn’t complaining.)

#Anonymous #headcanons #winnix #speirton #webgott #luztoye #baberoe