#that's some lack of emotional equilibrium right there

[pearlwithgirl]

As the Nightingale Calls

Simon Riley x gn!reader

SFW fluff - 612 words

The first of many tender musings

It’s quiet. The dingy room holds a jarring tranquility, lowering inhibitions, washing away the chaos of the day.

His tongue darts out over dusky pink lips to collect the last of tonight’s ration. Pound cake. 

Vanilla soaked crumbs are cleared from the seam of his mouth and licked away from the jagged line cleaved from nose to neck.

A flash of anger zaps across your visage. It only lasts a moment - his opponent has already paid his price, resting deeply. Communing with roots and fragrant earth. 

Raising a scarred hand to the corner of your mouth, he swipes away a smear of rosy jam. He suckles at the skin of his thumb, savouring the mellow tartness, eyes still glued to your lips.

He raises his gaze to meet yours. The same cogs are turning, the same thoughts being mulled over in your own brain.

Should you give in to the insistent tug?

The well-established, scarcely-acknowledged tether between yourselves?

Certainly not. It’s ill-advised, a dangerous game rife with bureaucratic hurdles and the looming threat of eternal separation.

Will you do it anyway?

The answer lies somewhere just below the surface. You are drawn to chase it, to dig calloused fingers into the damaged terrain and nick yourself on colluvial shards in pursuit of the warm loam below. To have your wounds licked clean by your Herculean comrade.

Your breaths are shallow, catching on a sharp, long-held craving. The scene lulls on, wordless.

He leans in.

You meet him in the middle, eyes fluttering shut, lips brushing softly, heads spinning in tandem. 

Over and over, chapped lips unite, tongues lick and flick. 

Sugary confection and tobacco. 

The moment drips, saccharine, pasted by sticky sweetness onto the surface of your mind - it’s placed in a special spot reserved for the most treasured relics. 

It wafts its way through you, filling hollows you’ve long kept barren. It yellows the walls - not in a shade of sickly flax, no. It’s sunny and safe and warm. 

You share the same breath, the same need, the same profound emotions - it’s nearly overwhelming.

*Nearly* - but it’s just right. A resounding equilibrium come to fruition.

It makes you shiver, stuttering exhalations and soft sighs proclaiming feelings unspoken.

You don’t part for lack of want or gratification, but you do need to breathe at some point.

Camouflaged lids open. He blinks slowly back at you in a shade of soft amber, gaze cutting right through the fog, radiant beacons in a sea of blotchy noir.

Again, you sense the same thoughts racing through his mind - it’s like peering into a looking glass. You’re used to constant risks and uncertainties - it’s a fickle life, but tonight? You have no doubts. 

You can feel it in the feather-light graze of his broad hands, glean it from the sprawling wingspan that enfolds you, drawing you impossibly close. 

The longing to flee an albatrossean curse, deserting the inky eye masks, the storms, the psychological burdens. 

You’d like to slip the plumage and slither between battered ribs, finding rest under a comfortable thrum, steady and strong.

A nightingale calls out in the dark. It’s a welcome accompaniment to a tender, glowing moment, but it barely breaches the fringes of your mind. 

Though tomorrow will be another story, nothing beyond this room is more pressing than the languid sequence playing out, the gentle knock of his forehead on yours, the soft glow of a tender revelation. 

You bask in it, growing pliant, baring your throat to beckon gnashing teeth over a delicate pulse point.

You aren’t afraid - they won’t hurt. Blunted solely for you, worn down by shared time, trust, and trauma.

He leans in again. 

You will.

#Pearl muses #pretend albatrossean is a word #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x gn reader #ghost x you #cod x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod mwii #mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley #banner from cafekitsune

[quietlyimplode]

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 22 - Watch Out

Warnings: words said in anger, grief, depression

Word Count: 1.6k (gif not mine)

Summary: Clint recovers from the fallout of the Avengers.

A/N: <3

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

2012

NEW YORK

“Get up,” Natasha tells him, the level of despondency irritating her.

She hasn’t left him alone, and whilst she understands this depression, she can’t understand the lack of self preservation that comes with it.

He hasn’t eaten, drunk water only when she’s told him too, and barely got out of bed.

He raises his head and looks at her in a pout.

“Not today,” he says, his voice crackling.

“Today is the day we meet with Fury,” she replies, pointing to the calendar.

“No,” he sighs, “go without me,”

She rips the sheets off him, and pushes a coffee into his hands.

“There’s no, “go without me”, not for this, this is Fury giving you grace, and now you have to deal with the mindfuck that was Loki.”

Clint looks at her betrayed.

“Don’t say his name,” he says angrily.

“Why? It shouldn’t matter, he’s done, he’s gone, we won, we didn’t die.”

“Yeah cause that’s exactly how you responded when you killed Dreykov,” he retorts, meanly.

“What?”

The words feel scathing and Clint can’t seem to stop them.

“Don’t you remember? You couldn’t even make it out of Budapest, you had the nightmares, you couldn’t function without help either.”

“You dissociate and can’t cope and I take it on, but when it turns the other way and I need time to not be in the world, you force it on me.”

He feels his face grow hot as he throws words at her.

“You were compromised, just like I am, and I protected you through it, and now, you can’t even do this. Some partner you turned out to be.”

He pulls the covers over himself and turns his back on her.

She feels anger, and then sadness roll over her.

“Phil would tell you to get up,” she says, a parting shot that makes him feel like shit.

He’s right of course, but she never thought that period of time would ever be used against her as a weapon.

Grabbing her jacket, she leaves, slamming the door behind her.

.

Entering Shield by herself, she feels eyes watching. They can’t kill her with looks, but the judgement still feels hurtful. Much like when she first defected the label of double agent plagued her.

Small hurts like changing the temperature of her room, stalking her, taunting her, all protected by Clint and Maria.

It makes Clint’s words hurt all the more.

She seeks Maria, knowing she’ll be close to Fury, and finding her way to the offices of Shield, hoping for privacy.

As she passes the empty office of Agent Phil Coulson, she pauses to touch the door.

Grief floods her, as she hold back the emotion, biting hard on her lip. The arrays of bouquets that line the door makes everything more real.

She hates him a little for making her face this alone, despite the difficulties he’s facing.

Natasha moves forward, hoping Maria is actually in her office, and finding the door slightly open.

Maria looks up.

“Nat,” she says, a tone of surprise.

“Where’s Clint? He has a meeting with Fury in twenty minutes,” she says quickly.

“Can I…” she sighs and stops.

“Clint’s not coming, I can’t get him out of bed, let alone out of the apartment,” she confesses.

Maria stops and watches Natasha.

“What?”

She calls through to Fury and cancels the meeting, and tells him she’s going to handle the debrief; then grabbing her jacket, she ushers Natasha out of the room.

“Come on,” she says, to Natasha. “Let’s go see the boy.”

.

“He said what?”

Maria breaks hard, almost rear ending the car in front.

“Nothing,” Natasha mumbles.

“Nat, that’s mean, he was mean, he has no right to judge you on how you reacted from defecting from your country, killing a man who tortured you and your coping mechanisms.”

Natasha stares out the window.

“I’m judging him on how he’s coping, and how long it’s taking him to reach equilibrium,” she sighs.

“You can reason this out all you want but what he said was mean, you didn’t do anything wrong and probably, you’re one that’s been protecting him from almost everything. You even took on Fury to negotiate more time. Nat, he shouldn’t have said what he said.”

Natasha continues to stare out the window, feeling emotions pulse through her as she knows that Maria is right.

“I don’t think I want to go back,” she confesses, sucking in a stuttering breath at the admission.

Selfishly she feels, she makes a decision based on what she wants and how she feels; not wanting to face Clint or his anger again.

Maria nods.

“I’ll go, I’ve got him for a bit, is there somewhere you want to go?”

Natasha wants to be alone.

“Just drop me at Grand Central Station,” she asks, knowing exactly where she wants to go.

.

Natasha loves the view from the Grand Central Station, finds it calming to watch the people milling around from tourist to regular New Yorkers.

Even aliens could stop this place, though the marks of damage still show.

They’d tried, she thinks, to fix what they could.

She finds a seat, opens her sandwich and sits and eats, letting the noises wash over her.

She analyses the old man’s gait, determining a hip injury, an old one it seems, then turns her attention to a young woman; stylish in her heels as she stalks across the station.

Two men clasp hands in greeting and walk off together, one animatedly talking to the other as he explained something Natasha couldn’t hear.

Natasha puts in headphones, no music attached, and watches the world.

It feels different here; maybe because so much has happened but still the place functions as though it hasn’t.

Maybe that’s her downfall.

She’s trying to function with Clint as though nothing has happened, trying to make him move past it like it never happened.

But it has.

People died at Clint’s hand.

Phil died trying to protect them all.

Clint lost control of himself.

And, she supposed, they were Avengers now.

Even their jobs had changed in the space of hours.

She sighs, rubbing her eyes in frustration and grief.

The clock alerts her to the later hour as the amount of people dwindles. Past 6pm, she realises that she’d left Clint with Maria for over 10 hours and guilt builds in her chest.

She stands abruptly, making her way for the door.

“Watch out!” the lady calls, her son barreling straight into Natasha’s leg.

He bounces off her and starts to cry.

Natasha squats and looks at the little boy, offering her hand to help him up.

The mother catches up to him and apologizes profusely.

“He moves with such haste, and never watches where he’s going.”

Natasha smiles, though watery she pulls herself together to wave it off.

The boy, still crying turns to his mother.

“Can I show you something?

She uses Clint’s favourite trick and pulls a coin from his ear, and in doing so, it gives her an idea.

The little boy stops crying, and she does it again.

Even the mother is smiling.

“Thank you—“ the woman starts, “wait— are you? Are you the Black Widow?”

The words and the name feel jarring out of the woman’s mouth, and the little boys eyes go wide.

“Do you know Iron Man?” he asks.

The woman shushes him, and grabs for Natasha’s hand.

“Thank you,” she says, “my brother was on the bus that Hawkeye saved and got the people out of.”

Natasha nods.

“I’ll let him know,” she smiles.

Moving away, Natasha pushes down the anxiety of being recognised and heads home, with an idea and a story to tell Clint.

.

The takeaway sits on the bench, as she moves into the apartment, nervous if there’s any more vitriol she’s going to walk into.

Finding him showered, clothes changed and sitting upright, Clint stands as she walks in.

“I’m sorry,” he opens.

“I shouldn’t have said the things I did, and I don’t know why I did,” he confesses.

“I’m aware I haven’t… been at my best, but the last few months have been hard. I know it’s no excuse, I know, I need to do better but—“

“It’s hard,” Natasha finishes.

“Yeah,” he finishes.

She nods.

“Come and eat something,” she offers, and walking back out to the kitchen, and pulling the food out of the bag.

“I think you’re doing better,” she comments, “but I think we need a project. Do you remember when you taught me the coin magic trick? I think we need to learn something new.”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t…”

She nods, “I’m going to teach you some Russian. Better Russian.”

He almost chokes on his food.

“It’s going to help,” she says confidently.

“Maria’s mandated therapy weekly,” he confesses.

“I know, she told me,” Natasha replies.

“I have to go in tomorrow,” he tells her, playing with the food.

“Do you want me to come?”

Natasha still feels the sting of the words from the morning but seeing him trying so hard when the day before he’d done nothing, lessens the hurt a little.

He nods.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” he says again.

“Vsyo v poryadke,” she replies.

He stares.

“Everything is in order, it is okay,” she reassured him, even though she’s not sure, even if she’s worried about the future, even about the hurt he can cause her and just how compromised she is by this relationship.

He drops his chopsticks and moves to her seat.

“Ya tyebya lyublyu,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” she replies.

.

#whumptober2023 #no. 22 #watch out #depression #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #natasha romanoff fic #fic recs #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #clint barton fic #Maria hill #marvel fic #Natasha Romanoff x Clint barton #clint barton x natasha romanoff #avengers 2012

[thecameronchronicles]

More Than Sex

TW: Jealous!Rafe. Soft smut. Language. Mentions of alcohol and marijuana. Slight angst due to love confession and jealousy. 

SUMMARY: Your friend with benefits situationship with Rafe takes an unexpected turn as your actions prompt him to make a confession.

WORD COUNT:

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Rafe req : when reader and rafe are bestfriends and smoke weef together but occasionally hook up/fwb but when reader flirts/hooks up with jj topper and kelce see that rafe gets jealous and he tells you that it wasn’t ‘just sex’ for him but that he’s in love with you and they get together and confess and everything 💛

*WASN’T SURE IF YOU WANTED SMUT OR NOT SO I KEPT IT MORE OF A CONFESSION PIECE*

More Than Sex

You questioned quite often if Rafe was capable of love. It was one of those thoughts that were mindless when high, looking over to the man in question and beyond curious to just what it was running through his mind as you were both feeling the effects of the marijuana. But this didn’t seem to affect your relationship with him as you had the perfect arrangement that allowed you to quell that carnal curiosity your best friend led you to have since you could remember, while also having the freedom to learn what you really wanted. After all, Rafe Cameron was many things, but boyfriend material wasn’t exactly one of them. Maybe if he was able to have a conversation without resorting to bloodying his knuckles when a disagreement would rival his views or maybe show a sense of romance behind the lust. But it made you understand that he was just as at ease with this friends with benefits situation you had agreed upon over the last year. 

But how wrong you were…

As you finished making your rounds through another Kook party, Rafe had parted from you to get you a drink while you were approached by Topper. In the same way Rafe had a camaraderie with you aside from that of a lustful pull, the handsome surfer, and best friend to your lover and friend, held the same. Even if it wasn’t as intense, you were always somewhat curious to what his touch would feel like. But every instance in which you would decide to learn of this, you would always go back to Rafe. Because as much as you wanted everything to stay inconsequential and indifferent, even distant from emotion, being with him was the only way you could be completely yourself as he was equally as broken and when together, those pieces seemed to fit in unison to create something all your own. Chaos and lust. The two words chosen to describe your connection to perfection. 

“I could always teach you…” Topper offered as you spoke of surfing, an activity you never really held much interest in as you were honestly terrified of being embarrassed with a lack of equilibrium that was required for the sport. But you did love to watch him as he mastered the curves of each coming wave. After all, you were not bound to anyone. But you wished you were. The same ‘anyone’  that had caught your eye throughout the conversation with Topper as he noticed this and pulled your hips against him. 

“First we got to work on your calibration…” But with what should have been an innocuous bout of flirtation would send Rafe off in a huff as he pushed past Topper, forcing his shoulder into his until he was left rubbing it, as you remained to ensure his victim was alright before eventually following in his step. 

“What was that about, Rafe?”

“Just go back to your boyfriend, okay?”

“Even if I had one, you have no right to treat me like this…” 

“I do when-” He stopped himself as you awaited for his words, but he would just stare, battling if he should even speak them, before silencing you both with hands on either side of your cheeks. 

“What are you doing?”

“Do you really think I can stand to see you with anyone else?! After everything we do?”

“We’re friends-”

“Fuck that!” He shot, surprising you as he had never made any grand confession to you before that wasn’t under the guise of some influence. But to this, he was completely sober, a rarity, but something you favored when looking at him like this for you. 

“I thought you just wanted to fuck me…” You tested him as he clenched his jaw. “Isn’t that what you did this morning? Last night? In the pool house last week?” You loved puling at him, usually something reserved for sex, but in this instance, you wanted to see how far you could unravel him. 

“Because we’re friends-” You spoke again as he was quick to stand across from you, glaring down at you. 

“A quick fuck and maybe I’d believe it. But the way you look at me when you feel me come inside of you…It’s the same way I look at you whenever I just have you next to me! Watching anybody else touch you or look at you-talk to you, and I want to tear ‘em to shreds. And the fact that you think Topper can love you like I can?” He paused, clenching his jaw, aware of the words spoken, but not prepared to acknowledge them until knowing your reaction. 

“You don’t love me, Rafe-”

“I told myself it wasn’t that. I told myself I was obsessed. I told myself I was bored. But I want more than sex…because this has been more than sex for so long and you know it. I don’t know what game you are playing in trying to get him to fuck you, but it woun’t feel like it would with me. Because what we have is more than any of that. No matter how deep someone else is inside of you, you will ALWAYS wish it was me because you know I love you-you’ve known it. We’ve just been too stubborn. So there. I love you. Okay? Go see-”

“Oh my God!” You silenced him with a kiss as he paused for a second and glared when you pulled away. 

“I don’t want to fuck you-” He corrected.

“Then make love to me, Rafe. Isn’t that what two people in love do?”

“I need to hear you say it…Please…” He set his forehead to yours as you would torture him for a moment before finally offering him those words. 

“I love you, Rafe-” You were forced against his kiss, strong lips reminding you of the words he’d spoken. 

“Prove it.” He challenged. 

“You want me to do that ten feet from our friends? Ten feet from Topper’s possibly fractured arm?”

“His cock will thank me since he only uses it to jerk off to you-”

“Rafe!”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice him practically fondling you in front of everyone!”

“So what if he was? I love you.” He carried his hand to your face until it slipped into your hair, pulling it dominantly until you were set at an uncomfortable bend in looking up to him. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. 

“So nobody else is going to teach you to surf either.”

“Oh, YOU can?” You chuckled. 

“There are things you don’t know about me…”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I think I know you pretty well…Everything from your favorite color to the way you can make me shake with only your tongue.”

He blushed with pride before smirking. 

“Wrong again.” Your brows narrowed. 

“You don’t know EVERYTHING I can do with it.”

You moved closer, “Then prove it, Cameron.” You sauntered to the direction of the pool house, a night spent in repetitive confessions and a promise to ditch the ‘friend’s title in your relationship, binding you together once and for all beneath orgasms and the loving hold bringing you to the arms of the man you loved. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor @belcalis9503

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #outer banks

[honkytonk-hangman]

Afterburn – Equilibrium

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC/Reader

Masterlist

Summary: “Bob and I are worried about you,” Phoenix says. "I'm fine," Jake snorts dismissively, as if he were amused by her concern. “S’that why you’re avoiding Teddy?” She takes the more direct approach this time, and watches again as Hangman freezes. This time when he looks back at her, his face is stony, and he’s glaring darkly, genuinely. “Mind your own business, Phoenix.” He spits, the venomousness nearly making her flinch.

Warnings: language, references to sex, hangman having anxiety, mentions and discussions of an aviation crash and the trauma around it.

Notes: this has taken so long but its here! thank you so much to anybody still reading and to @ussgallifrey AND @rolycolysficrecs for the emotional support heheh lov u both <3

Masterlist

Phoenix almost pity’s how hard Hangman jumps when she slams his locker door closed, bringing them face to face in the deserted men’s shower room.

“Trace!” Hangman hisses, surprised. “What the hell?”  His voice is tight and defensive, a pinched glare pulled across his features.

Phoenix knows she hasn’t always had the best relationship with Hangman, but even now that they were certifiably friends, it wasn’t really like her other friendship’s. They’d fight and bicker and most of their interactions were based upon sarcasm and snark, and yet, she could never deny that she liked the man.

She could also never deny that he was pretty. Not only did he take care of his appearance, even more so than the average Navy man, Jake was blessed with those natural ‘good-genes’ people always referred to when they’re talking about some otherworldly supermodel or the like. Phoenix has never, not even once, seen the man looking anything less than Ken Doll perfection.

At least, that had been the case right up until two weeks ago.

At first Phoenix had questioned her own memory. It had been eighteen months since the Uranium Facility mission, since Dagger was unofficially disbanded. They had stuck together for a while, but inevitably, they’d all had to return to their Squadrons, with a few exceptions, such as Bob transferring to the Black Aces to continue flying as her backseater. Now, with discussions of solidifying Dagger as a true and proper Squadron taking place, Phoenix and Bob had rolled back into town two weeks ago, at the request of Admiral Simpson. She’d been somewhat excited to learn Hangman was around too, only dampened when she’d found out why.

Medical leave, he’d grunted shortly.

Had needed to punch out, he’d admitted eventually, sustained minor injuries in the landing.

Now they were just keeping him for observation. It just so happened to coincide with the upcoming talks about Dagger Squad.

Despite this, Phoenix didn’t feel as though either his accident or his medical leave explained well enough why, for the past two weeks, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Ken Doll Perfection Incarnate, looked the worst she’d ever seen him.

Even though she knows that the universally unflattering locker room down-lighting isn’t doing him any favours, Phoenix would bet money that out in the light of day he didn’t look any better. His normally gold-tan skin had turned sallow and flat, and instead of straight back and proudly squared, his shoulders seemed to be perpetually hunched. Even his eyes were duller, bloodshot and lacking in their usual brightness.

However, the final straw had come today when Bob returned from his lunch with Teddy, wide-eyed and almost childlike in how he’s searched for Phoenix, not only to confide in her, but in the knowledge, she would know what to do. While they’d both assumed Hangman was keeping it lowkey due to his medical leave, that was apparently not at all the case.

Seemingly, Hangman had been present on North Island for two weeks and was yet to inform Teddy.

“What are you doing here? How did you even get in?!” Hangman scolds, quickly trying to hide his fright with anger, and he roughly forces his locker door back open again. Phoenix uses his forcefulness so that it’s pushed completely flat, making it impossible to ignore her now.

“Bob and I are worried about you,” she tells him, surprised by the honestly of the words that leave her mouth, but chooses to stand by them, straightening her shoulders and watching measuredly the way his movements stutter and pause almost imperceptibly, before he shifts his gaze toward her with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m fine.” he says dismissively, as if he were humoured by her concern, but she notes that his voice is quieter now, softer. Phoenix isn’t willing to let him off yet, oh no, she’d only just begun, so she crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin challengingly.

“S’that why you’re avoiding Teddy?” She takes the more direct approach this time, and watches again as Hangman freezes. This time when he looks back at her, his face is stony, and he’s glaring darkly, genuinely.

“Mind your own business, Phoenix.” He spits, the venomousness nearly making her flinch, but she stands her ground, uncrosses her arms, then puts them on her hips.

“You look like shit, Jake.” she tells him, making his glare deepen, but she continues. “It’s clear you’re not sleeping well, if at all… If you haven’t been doing great since you punched out, she would understand more than anyone else,” Phoenix gets a little more frantic as she goes on, letting out the barrage quickly, not giving him the chance to cut her off.

“Why are you avoiding Teddy, Bagman?”

Jake huffs in annoyance and tries to close his locker door, but only enough to petulantly block her from his line of sight, but she catches it and for several moments they struggle like children. In the end, Phoenix’s fingers slip just as Hangman seems to have had enough of her questioning, and he slams the door shut even harder than Phoenix had when she’d first startled him.

“Because I’m not having nightmares about my accident!” he exclaims angrily, almost yelling.

For a few seconds the pair can only glare at one another in the now silent locker room.

Eventually, Jake rubs a hand over his face, and all but collapses onto the bench. Phoenix steps forward, and hesitates before she crouches down in front of him, and waits.

“I was there, Nat. I was there.”

Phoenix blinks, and frowns, leaning in to place a hand on Hangman’s arm.

“Where, Jake? What are you talking about?” She hates being so clueless, but it doesn’t last long.  Jake lifts his head heavily to look her in the eye.

He looks wrecked.

“I was there the day Teddy crashed. The Vigilantes came in as backup, her Squadron was overrun.” He swallows thickly. “I heard everything on the radio. I watched her go down,” he pauses again, grinding his teeth together as if deciding whether to continue. When he meets her eyes again, she can see that he’s anxious, uncertain, and it’s such a foreign look on him, for several seconds Phoenix forgets she’s talking to Hangman.

“I nailed the bandit that hit her,” he confesses at last, as if she was his priest, his voice hurried but resigned, like he was expecting her to punish him.

Phoenix blinks. She can’t help the shock that flickers over her face in the moments after she processes what he’s told her. She had long been aware of Hangman’s first confirmed aviator kill, if she’s honest she’d always been a little jealous of that particular notch in his belt, but his new context makes her envy feel childish and petty.

It occurs to Phoenix suddenly, that she can’t bring to mind a time that he’d ever spoken about his medal, or the circumstances surrounding it at all without it being brought up to him first. Even when she’d introduced him to Payback and Fanboy all those months ago at the Hard Deck, he’d deflected immediately, not even biting when they poked fun at him, his only direct response being to tell her to ‘stop’.

“Does– does Teddy know?” Phoenix tries not to let her shock clear; it was obvious to her that this was not something that he’d ever revealed to anybody else, nor did it seem like he had planned to. Jake’s lips pull down in the corners, and he looks to the floor between his feet.

“No.” His voice sounds thick, but then he’s blinking back at her, frowning slightly as he speaks. “She doesn’t talk about it with me, I’m not sure she talks about it with anyone…” Hangman once more speaks slow and carefully, like he’s not sure he should be telling her. He lets the words hang between them for a moment before he shifts his focus back to stare at her face, pursing his lips. “I’m pretty sure she’s never even read any of the final reports about the engagement.”

“Why…” Phoenix starts but trails off when she can’t decide which of the many questions racing through her mind to ask first. Hangman watches her as she gathers herself, his face slightly guarded now, like he was waiting for her to turn against him. Phoenix will be the first to admit even now their friendship could be difficult, like that of siblings more than friends, but she finds herself more than a little disquieted that he clearly expected her to think less of him, either for keeping the truth from Teddy, or for the way it had clearly affected him.

Phoenix adjusts her footing, before curling her hands gently, but firmly, around his own. She’s not even sure that he’s aware that he’s been wringing them for the past five minutes, as he spoke but her unexpected touch brings a stop to it. Phoenix is pleased that the action appears to ground him somewhat, and she waits to have his attention again before speaking. His eyes cut briefly down to her hands over his, then back to her face almost expectantly, though his expression isn’t entirely decipherable.

“Why now?” Phoenix asks carefully, doing her best to keep any accusation from her voice. Hangman frowns, looking away from her as though he couldn’t think and watch her at the same time. Phoenix clears her throat and amends herself quickly.

“Why is this weighing you down now? What’s changed?”

The beat of silence that passes is damn-near tangible, the air around them turning thick, and even just breathing felt like trying to wade through water while still fully clothed.

“Because I’m going to be fine,” Hangman states bluntly, staring Phoenix down now. “I’m going to walk outta here in a week’s time, fly back to my stationing on the carrier, and Teddy never will.”

It wasn’t as though Phoenix isn’t aware of that fact. Sometimes she felt all too aware of it, the knowledge weighing on her like it had clearly been weighing on Hangman. She supposes the only difference was that Hangman wasn’t used to feeling that weight, that guilt. From day one he never had any problem treating Teddy as though she wasn’t chronically sick, as though her life and career hadn’t been sent veering off course, despite the positives that had been born from the circumstances.

In the space left behind by his seeming lack of sensitivity, Phoenix realises a far fonder friendship than she’d first realised had been able to grow. She knew they were close, even though his behaviour often made it seem as though he couldn’t care less, Hangman was not a man who did anything by halves.

He either cared about you, or he didn’t.

Phoenix quickly makes the decision to tuck this information away, to interrogate them both later, after she’s debriefed with Bob of course. For now, she simply lets her understanding play out clear across her face, dissolving his matter-of-fact detachment by simply not playing into his hand. He was likely expecting her to finally turn stern with him, in a friendly manner, but with the knowledge she was now beginning to unpick in her mind, Phoenix can’t bring herself to do it.

No, she and Hangman may not have been the best of pals, but they were friends, and Natasha Trace was loyal to her friends, so, with him clutching her hands like she was the only thing currently tethering him to sanity, Phoenix gives him the only advice she knows will help him.

“Jake! Oh my god!” you exclaim happily, shooting up from your desk at the sight of the blond in your office doorway. You move quickly around to meet him in the middle, but stop suddenly when you realise you aren’t exactly sure how you should greet him. Was a kiss too much? A hug? You hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk much since his deployment, and even less recently.

Actually, it had started weighing on you. Where he once seemed to make every effort to reply to your messages or emails, in the past month or so, his responses had seemed short, or they hadn’t come at all. You told yourself not to think too hard about it, afterall, you knew exactly how busy and how tiring his job could be, you’d done it once yourself, but no matter how many times you accrued yourself everything was fine, you hadn’t been able to shake the strange feeling of coldness between you.

His appearance in your office doesn’t do anything to change that. For one, he doesn’t move to enter, he simply lingers by the door, his smile tight, and his eyes tired.

“How you doing, Teddy?” he asks, though it seems flat, exhausted, and it’s this response that makes you falter in your step. He notices, of course he does, he always seems to notice everything about you, and drops his gaze, but that doesn’t stop you from being able to take him in with a renewed intensity.

You realise you’ve never seen him look this wrecked before. Not even that night when he showed up at your door and asked you to let him in, not even the morning after, with his hair all messed up and his eyes blinking tiredly at you from your pillow.

Immediately your face drops along with your stomach, but you force yourself to breathe evenly, and take half a step forward.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, fearing the answer, but needing him to say it anyway, if it had caused him this much distress. At the end of the day, you cared about Jake plain and simple. It would hurt if he decided to go back to being friends, but you would be able to deal with it just fine. To ring the old cliche, you would rather have him as a friend than to not have him at all.

Jake blinks at you, and seems to snap out of his dazed reverie. You’re not sure if he’d heard your previous question, or if he just didn't know how to answer yet, so you try again.

“I didn’t know you were scheduled to come back to North Island,” you start. You watch him swallow, and nod, but he meets your eyes again at least.

“I wasn’t,” he tells you, shifting his stance slightly.

You stare at one another, and it's almost as though he’s testing you, waiting to see how much you’ll push him, if you’ll call him out.

“Well, how long are you back for?” you ignore his sharp gaze, and press on, trying as best you can to at least hold a normal conversation with him before things go pear shaped eventually. Seemingly frustrated by your avoidance, Jake’s jaw ticks, and he briefly looks away from you. Normally you wouldn’t mind pushing him, clearly he was asking for it, but perhaps he didn’t understand how much this conversation would affect you, why you had to avoid it.

“I’ve been back for two weeks,” he speaks at last, waiting until he’s spoken to look back at you. The words hit you harder than whatever you’d expected him to say next, and you’re utterly blindsided by the punch of hurt that winds you.

“Oh.” you breathe quietly, unable to stop the slight crumple of your features at the thought.

Jake, who hadn’t left you alone since he’d met you, Jake who seemed to thrive on your annoyed energy, Jake who had turned up at your house after finding out his next deployment and had begged to be let in, that same Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had been on North Island for two weeks and hadn’t told you.

Unable to school your face any longer, you turn away from him entirely, willing every fibre of your being to hold it together. Behind you, you hear him sigh frustratedly, though, it doesn’t seem directed at you this time. You hear the familiar sounds of your office door being gently closed, the lock turning, shutting you in.

“I’m sorry, Teddy, I’m sorry, please look at me…” Jake’s voice isn’t hard now, it’s soft and pleading in the same way he’d been on your doorstep all those months ago. You can’t bring yourself to turn, but before you can do much else, you feel his presence behind you, and his hand gently on your shoulder, and it's ridiculous how even despite what he’s just told you, how much comfort this one action lends you anyway.

“Teo? Please, I’m sorry.”

You snap to look at him at the use of the private nickname, something nobody called you anymore, nobody even knew to call you, except him. It stokes the fire of anger inside you at his audacity, and you’re ready to tear into him, but you’re caught, stopped by the expression on his face, and how up close, he looks even worse than he had from several feet away.

“I– I should have told you but I–” he cuts himself off, and drops his hand from your shoulder, but he doesn’t break your eye contact. You can see his mind working, see him trying to figure something out, and you almost want to spit that he’d had two weeks already to figure it out, but you don’t.

At last, he opens his mouth again, but once more, his words are not what you expect.

“I was there the day you punched out.”

At first his words don’t even seem real to you, like a wild hallucination. Subtly, you even check your own pulse, just to make sure you hadn’t actually passed out already and were imagining things. It sinks in then, with the grave expression on his face, and just how messed up he really looked, that there was no way he wasn’t serious, not to mention this is not something you would ever conjure of your own volition.

“What?” your voice sounds angrier than you mean it too, but you’re too far gone to control yourself.

“My squadron was the one who flew in to provide backup for Samurai, I was there– I– I–” Jake stops and gathers himself. When he sinks into one of the chairs opposite your desk, you don’t follow, unable to move even a muscle as you listen to him. Unlike you, he seems more put together now, recounting these details, he folds his hands together in his lap and looks up at you, expression now unreadable.

“I heard you on the radio, I saw you losing altitude, and I– I never used to think about it much, even after we became friends–”

“–Your first confirmed pilot kill, that was one of the bandits who winged me, wasn’t it?” you cut him off, your mind working overtime, both recollecting that day from your own memory, and imagining what it must have been like in his. Jake nods slowly, eyes never leaving you.

You let out a strangled laugh, but it's entirely mirthless.

“I had to punch out two weeks ago,” Jake tells you then, and it almost overshadows your rising panic at the situation at hand.

“What? Why? Are you alright?!” you don’t catch yourself in time to stop the words from leaving your mouth. Jake smiles, and you think it's a little odd that it seems genuine. You follow his movements closely as he reaches out and takes one of the hands hanging limply at your side, your stomach and heart competing for synchronised diving when his thumb brushes up against the underside of your wrist, your pulse thrumming quickly against the pad of his finger.

A beat later, and all it takes is a single tug for you to fall into the seat opposite him, your hand still held tightly in his own.

“I’m fine. A few bumps, but I’m alright.

The way he says it, everything suddenly clicks for you then, and realise what this whole song and dance has been about. With a deep breath, you let yourself push aside the million questions you have regarding this new information, putting away the embarrassment you felt for now. With your free hand, you shakily point to your desk and clear your throat.

“Can you please get me my medication?” you ask. Jake is on his feet immediately, rounding your desk and pulling open your second draw. You want to question him about how he knows where you keep your box of many meds, but figure you can ask later.

“Just the inhaler, please,” you instruct when he looks back up at you for directions,  and soon enough he’s seated beside you again, reluctantly releasing your hand so you can take your medicine properly.

Right away your airways relx, and you let out a steady breath, before finally turning to look back at Jake.

“You know, most people have anxiety about their own crashes, right?” you’re pleased that your voice sounds more casual, the humour dry and almost reflexively you see Jake’s shoulders slump. You reach out and take his hands again, squeezing them.

“Jake, you don’t need to feel bad for walking away scot-free. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you did.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around yours and he leans forward slightly, as if physically weighed down by his guilt.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he admits quietly, but confidently in a way that tells you he’s being as honest as possible.

“Do you feel better now you’ve told me?” you ask him, rubbing your thumb back and forth soothingly over his hand, making him squeeze your fingers again.

“Yes. I’m sorry–”

“–Thank you.” you cut him off, and he blinks at you, before shutting his mouth, as if your forgiveness is the one option he hadn’t even considered.

“Is this really why you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks?” you ask then, and he snaps out of his thoughts and leans back in his seat, rubbing at his neck awkwardly.

“Nat cornered me, kicked my ass until I told her I’d come talk to you… Like a damn piledriver, that woman…” he says, sounding too fond for his grumbling to mean anything. You chortle, and don’t even think about bringing the back of his hand to your lips.

“I just feel bad you’ve been slumming it on base for two weeks while on medical leave,” you tease. “You must have been feeling pretty bad if you preferred to sleep on the shitty cots on base than at mine,” you shake your head, and Jake pulls a face somewhere between a smile and a pout.

“I know, it’s been torture of the worst degree. The real reason I haven’t been sleeping.” he ruefully admints, though you know it’s pure bull.

Shaking your head, you stand, and tug your hand from his as you round your desk once more. You replace your medication in your draw, and dig your keys out of your purse, tossing them quickly across the gap. Jake catches them, of course, sleep or no sleep, his reflexes were still some of the best in the world, and without a word, he too stands.

"Go home and get some sleep, honey, we'll talk more later." you tell him softly. You expect him to nod, maybe wink, and say his goodbyes, but instead, he steps around your desk and leans down, balancing on the edge of it with one hand. The other hand he lifts to catch you by the chin, and you aren’t sure why, but it takes you completely by surprise when he crushes his lips to yours passionately.

He swallows your little gasp with a smile against your mouth, and what you’d expected to be heavy turns softer and sweet, and all too soon he’s pulling away, and placing a kiss to your forehead. Then, he leans back to look down at you, shit eating grin on his face, and you realise you’d been too distracted by his tongue on yours to notice he’d opened your second drawer again.

With your own quick reflexes, you’re able to catch the object he tosses at you as he finally steps away, and you look down at it, feeling an all-too-familiar annoyance begin to bubble inside you.

Jake nods at your inhaler, still smirking, and opens your office door.

“Go ahead and keep that on you, sweetheart, you’re gonna need it,”

#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin

[fueledbysano]

𝟎𝟎𝟗 | still take you home

summary: and as he looked into her eyes deeply for the first time, he could see the future that he never dreamt of, but now longed for more then ever. [ Y / N ] shares a sweet moment with Mikey as she treats his wounds after a fight. Takemichi meets the pair's daughter from the future.

content/warnings: this story contains major Tokyo Revengers manga spoilers, canon divergence setting, tenjiku arc setting, comfort, fluff, angst, detailed writing of violence, weapons, blood, death, and strong language.

a/n: using a new layout :) also i apologize for the lack of updates i still very much love this series but I had to reread the arc and it required a lot of finding for free time to do that. anyways, here's nine.

wc: 4k

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The school gates after hours were a place for lovers and cliques. Every available seat was occupied by either— a couple gazing into one another’s eyes; or a fun group cracking jokes. Yet by the fountain stood a lonesome girl, statue-like in her styled uniform.

[ Y / N ] almost belonged, but not quite.

You dressed in scrubby maroon trousers like all others and wore a white button-up with a complementing necktie under a black leather jacket patched with some band logos that had been in fashion before you were born.

While it quite sucks that none of your close friends in Toman or the girls go to the same school, the loneliness in the environment is a blessed curse. I think most people will agree when I say— Existence by yourself offers the possibility for true tranquility to settle every aspect of your being after a stressful day.

Growing up alone was terrifying to you. You’re fortunate in a way that you eventually had people’s pleasant company that has brought harmony, delight, and a fresh sense of surprise. All while respecting your personal time.

We occupy this equilibrium, and it is wise to be aware of these emotional ebbs and flows.

This school was your only “break” from the bustle of you and your friends’ gang life, so it was only acceptable that none of the people here truly knows the reasons behind your absences, as well as your reserved and serious demeanor; and you were happy to maintain decent grades whilst keeping a low profile.

However, trying to live two different lives will eventually catch on, and will make things complicated.

“No shit, she does street racing?!” You subtly turn your head to the right, only to see in your peripheral vision the clique of the school’s wealthy and “popular” kids seated on the other side of the fountain.

Were they talking about me? You question yourself, and maintain your posture. You know it’s possible that at some point, your schoolmates will have to find out that you break speed limits (and when necessary, bones) for a living. and you were never really ready for that.

“Makes sense, she doesn’t even come to school every day and we’ve never seen her outside. Probably gets into fights too.” One girl spoke. You find it quite obnoxious of her to spread rumors about someone right behind them.

“She seems cool, invite her over and let’s ask.” One guy spoke up.

“Yo, [ L / N ]–chan!” The group finally made themselves visible to you by surrounding your space.

“Care for a drink?” A girl offered.

“That depends.” You answered, relaxing your shoulders and letting your elbows situate on the concrete behind you.

“It’s on us!” They insisted.

“I can hear you, y'know?” You spoke, referring to the earlier incident.

“Yeah. So… Do you still wanna come?” The girl asks.

“Hm,” You hum in response, taking a few steps forward as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. Not only they’re obnoxious gossipers, but also rude.

Did they mean alcohol? If so, you didn't want to overshare and drive under the influence. If they meant coffee or anything of the like, it’s always nice to get treated. And although you don’t exactly like it, small talk would do. It’s a small price to pay for their company and drink.

However, having heard what they have been talking about earlier, you knew their intentions right away. So, you had to decline.

Just as you were about to respond, a crowd of students at the front started to steer clear of the area as the sound of a familiar, loud motorcycle engine was fast approaching. You hum to yourself before walking past the group, just in time as Mikey pulls over at the front gate.

He was quite earlier than the usual time when he fetches you from school.

“Hey, B. Hop in.” He spoke, tossing a helmet your way which you effortlessly caught just above your height.

Mikey kept a close glare on the group of students who were surrounding you. “I’ll catch you another time.” you mounted the seat behind him on the motorcycle before securing the helmet over your head.

“Tch.” Although you couldn’t see it, one of the girls rolled her eyes and took her friend as they left.

“Hey, Mikey.” You smiled at him through the side mirror, encasing his torso in your arms.

“Come on.” He pats your arm before revving the engine loudly and then speeding off.

“Were those kids bothering you?” He asks once you reach a quieter road.

“Actually, I can’t tell.” You answered. “This isn’t the way to my house. Where are we off to?”

“Emma. She wants to have you and Hina over for dinner.”

“Yes!”

Not long enough, the two had pulled over in front of a small record store where Emma part-timed.

“Everyone will meet here. Do you mind waiting?”

“Not at all, I like hanging out here.” You answer upon opening the glass doors to the shop, the dainty bells above making a sweet chime which notified Emma of your presence.

“[ Y / N ]-chan! Let me just close up and we’ll go.” She spoke from behind the counter.

“Take your time, I’ll be here.” You waved her off, making yourself comfortable on the common area couch. “What’s new this week?” Your eyes were focused on scanning through the vinyl records to test out on the player.

However, just as you picked your choice, Mikey had already put on a Linkin Park record which started to spin and play on the player. With a smile, you relaxed back down on the seat, letting your legs rest above Mikey’s lap which earned a faint hum from him.

But just as he saw your cozy state laid on the couch comfortably, he pats on your leg with a smile, keeping it in place before slouching onto a more comfortable position himself.

“I’m so glad we got to go home early today, we have been preparing for the event all day…” Mikey didn’t even hear your fussing, his mind too clouded with the thought of your closeness and how he wished you didn’t have other plans and stay just as it is.

“Mikey, it's almost time.” Draken’s voice followed the store bell chime, diverting your head to the Toman founders heading to see their leader.

“Right.” You let your legs fall to the ground to let Mikey get up, then shift to get up on your own.

“Hey, Emma! We're leaving.” Draken calls.

“Yeah, say goodbye to your brother.” Mikey added.

“Bye, Mikey!” Emma waved from behind the counter. “And uh, goodbye, Draken!” She smiled sweetly at the tall boy as the rest of them left.

However, Mikey remained, eyeing his friends on their bikes before turning to you, who returned to the seat to inspect your phone.

“Hey.” He was situated on your side, making his presence known.

“Hm?” You hummed in response, now looking the boy in his eyes.

“A kiss before we leave?” With a pout, he asks so adoringly, making it impossible for you to deny. Which you didn't, leaning forward to initiate a sweet kiss with the boy as your second kiss with him.

“You're my first kiss, you know?” You breathed out in between kisses.

“And I you.” He sweetly responds. “And I want a thousand more.” He added, pulling you in for another kiss before he leaves.

“Have fun at dinner.” Mikey grins.

“Good… luck with the meeting?” You chuckled.

“I'll see you soon.” Mikey's hands wandered down your waist for a hug before sending himself off. However, upon turning to the doors, Draken stood tall with his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face.

“AH!” Mikey yelped.

“Tsk.” Draken shook his head.

“Oh, there’s the lint.” Your hands scurried to his shirt to flick off a "lint".

“Bye bye!”

“Bye…” You waved in response, watching him leave the store with Draken.

“So, what are we having?” You turn to Emma just as she leaves the staff room.

“Hina is showing us the new place that opened up down the road.” She smiled, flipping the “CLOSED” sign on the door you’d just walked past.

“Hina-chan! This is an amazing choice of place. The food and ambience is really nice.” You chirp just as the waiter leaves upon serving your desert.

“Hm, I wish I had ordered the parfait too…” Hina admired the treat on the table.

“We can share, here.” You insist, pushing the tall glass in the middle of the table.

“So, my friends at school were talking about kid names,” Hina mentioned while digging into the layers of cream,

“Why?” You wondered, picking off the cherry on top.

“We drew our ‘future kids’ in arts class today. The teacher was asking for a name too.” She explained.

“I’m glad we didn’t do that at my school. Would’ve taken me more than a day. I’m very indecisive.” You chuckled.

“You would.” She agreed.

“Anyways, what did you come up with?”

“I really like the name Lili.” She spoke.

“That’s so cute, Hina-chan! I would’ve put Kuroe.” Emma agreed.

“Like the American movie? That’s so nice.” You spoke.

“What about you, [ Y / N ]?” Emma nodded in agreement before turning to you.

“I… don’t know. Never really thought of it. Ask me again in like… Twelve years?” You chuckled, tossing in a random number as you finished the fruit.

While digging into the parfait, you were lost in thought when all of a sudden you remembered a name you adored and had once read in a book you enjoyed. Morin, that’s right.

“But, I do like the sound of the name—” Just as you were about to mention it, your phone rang and displayed the name of one of your teammates. “Excuse me.” You sigh, sliding out of the booth you sat on.

During your absence, Emma and Hina carried on with the conversation until the blonde girl had emptied her cup of tea.

“Alright, it's reading time.” One of her found-hobbies was Tasseography, which is the art of identifying symbols and interpreting messages found in the shapes and configurations of tea leaves.

“I’ll finish this then do mine too!” Hina spoke, sipping on her own cup.

“Yeah, me too. You haven't done my leaves in a while, Emma.” You returned just in time, pushing your empty tea cup towards the girl.

“Alright, give me.” She picked the ceramic cup, carefully inspecting the shapes at the bottom of it.

“[ Y / N ]–chan?”

“Yeah?” You hum, watching her reactions.

“Are you and Mikey dating?” She asks right away.

“What?” Your eyes widened, curious of what she had in mind.

“You see— this sign here means strong emotion, and uh… here is a heart for love, romance, and home…” She observed, showing the symbols for you.

“If the zodiac wheel is printed on this cup, the heart would be on… the Leo house.” She added.

“Mikey-kun is a Leo!” Hina mentioned.

“Yeah, exactly.” Emma agreed. “This chain pattern right here means a series of events and responsibility so you will be busy…” She continued,

“and uh, the cross sign here means… plus, or addition. Something or someone is coming into your life. That’s all.” Emma finished, placing the cup back down.

“Is that bad?” You wondered.

“Only fate knows.” She smiled, which you hummed in response to.

“Your turn, Hina-chan!” Emma turned to her.

“So, all that from an empty cup of tea?” Hina questioned.

“Amazing, huh?” She responded, this time with the other girl’s tea cup in her hands.

“Uhm, about Mikey…” You started,

“You don't worry about me! I always knew you two would end up together, you know?” Emma chuckled and paused for a moment. “and I helped him pick the flowers he gave you, so I figured.” She shrugged.

“You know, I hated being given flowers. It’s like people are giving me something to look after. Like a pet.” You mentioned, slightly slouching on your booth. “So I’d rip them apart and put them in my car to smell nice.” You added.

“But, I didn’t do that with the ones he gave, they’re still fresh on my desk.” You smiled to yourself before noticing your two friends giggling at your words. “Whatever.” You shrugged off, turning your gaze away.

“I never knew someone would like my brother this much.” Emma pointed out.

“Shut up.” You laughed, tossing a napkin towards their way.

“Okay, I’m done reading yours, Hina-chan.”

“Tell me everything!”

After your dinner, Hina insisted on heading home while you and Emma decided to stop by at Toman’s meeting. Sitting on the trunk of one of the parked cars, you managed to get a view of the scene in front of the taller guys who were towering your view.

Mikey is currently in the middle of a fight with a few guys, with two of them left standing and evidently struggling to fight back.

“I thought this was just a meeting.” You wondered, sipping from the bottle of water in your hand.

“He’s punishing the guys who attacked the third division.” Mitsuya joined your spot.

“That gang, right.” You nodded.

Upon finishing the bottle, you continued to watch the ongoing fight. This time, with only one guy left standing. Be careful— you kept on thinking. Everyone is aware of Mikey’s confidence, yet, you could only wish for his safety and certain victory at this very moment.

He, however, noticed your presence by how you stood out on that car trunk and the way a lamp post shred light to your frame.

“Ooou!” Some members winced once the guy managed to land a punch onto Mikey’s cheek, in which he quickly shrugged off and returned, this time with much greater intensity, sending the guy to the ground.

“Alright, everyone’s dismissed. Scram.” Draken demanded, instantly sending everyone to clear the area, hop on their bikes, then leave.

“You took a pretty hard hit.” You voiced, touching his jaw with your fingertips as you observed the bruising skin.

Mikey quietly awed at your gesture, in which he responded with an “I’m fine.” You nodded before taking out a can of soda from the plastic bag of the convenience store you’d stopped by earlier to buy snacks.

Mikey utters a soft “thank you” before taking you to stand by his bike. “Welcome.” You smiled, leaning against the seat along with him.

“[ Y / N ], you do know that… I will never hurt you, right?” He blurts, holding the cold can against his face.

You then realized where this may be coming from, which you assured him in an instant. “Mikey,” You sighed, turning to face him.

“When you looked at me… you seemed scared.” He added.

“I’m not. I’ve seen you fight like a million times.” You chuckled. “It’s just that… this time, I was extra worried for you.” You abruptly turned away from the blurt of emotion before deciding to get to your point. “... and Kenchin. Because then, he’ll be the one who will treat your injuries.” You joked, lightening up the mood.

“To me, you’re our Mikey.” You spoke, taking away the can from his hand. “Who will do everything in his power to protect the people he cares about.” You smiled, carefully cradling his face in your palms. “So to answer your question… I do know that. Always have.” You reiterated with a gentle smile.

In response, he gently pulls your chin towards him and carefully surrounds his lips with yours as you elevate your head to his and offer your lips.

Slightly smiling against each other’s lips, his eyes flutter shut in response, intoxicated by your effect on him.

“Good night guys, be safe on the way home.” On the other side of the parking lot there stood Mitsuya who was preparing to leave with his motor, waving at Draken and Chifuyu who had sped off to the road.

“Your girlfriend is not here?” He turned to Takemichi who stood still, making sure that everyone had left safely.

“[ Y / N ] said she went home early.” He says.

“Oh, need a ride then?” Mitsuya offered.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He politely declined with a bow before bidding their goodbyes.

“Nakata Wheels Downtown.” Morin read out the signage on top of the building, making sure that this is the place where [ Y / N ] lived.

It had been an hour since she stood on the opposite side of the road, thinking through how to approach her mother’s past self. Suddenly, a motorcycle pulls over at the front just as she was about to cross. “Shit.” She cursed, realizing it was [ Y / N ] and Mikey.

“Good night.” She spoke softly, sending the boy off with a hug before he sped off, then blinking the tail lights three times.

[ Y / N ] stayed outside until the boy came out of sight then she carefully lifted the garage doors, tossing her belongings in a car before getting on it to leave.

“Oh, where are you going?” She spoke to herself, hiding into a blinder spot to avoid being seen.

With a failed attempt to connect to [ Y / N ] she turns away to retreat, deciding to start looking for places to sleep at. “At least I’m sure that’s where she lived.” She sighs, sitting at one of the benches at the park she passes by.

With a heavy sigh, she began to slowly slouch and drift into a deep sleep on the uncomfortable bench, until someone talking on the playgrounds had woken her up.

“Mmmn. Better get back home before mom and dad wake up!” Upon opening her eyes, she sees a pink-haired girl and a blonde boy talking by the slides.

“Hina, um…” The boy sighed, “About that stuff I just said, I mean, the future stuff.” He rambled.

Hina?

“I didn’t hear a thing.” The girl smiled in response.

“Huh?”

“Bye-bye, Takemichi-kun!” She turns to leave, waving the boy goodbye.

“Awright! I got a lotta stuff to get done!” He yells at himself with a pep-talk. “For this time-leap, I know who the enemy is…”

Morin gasped at the mention of his name. Takemichi is [ Y / N ]’s close friend in the future, who could apparently time leap too. Has she finally found someone to approach?

But of course, she thought it would be hilarious to mess up with him first.

As he was continuing to do a monologue, Morin had already sneaked behind, landing a slide kick to his ankles which caused him to fall on his ass on the ground.

“What, who are you?!” The boy yelled, looking up at her with surprise.

“Hello, uncle.” She smiled before stepping on his feet to keep him in place.

“Who?” He asks in confusion.

“You know, I genuinely thought—” She was about to answer until someone had dragged her shirt from the back, “Wait, what—” Upon facing the person, Hina was back with an angered expression, making sure to land a slap on Morin’s cheek the moment she turned to her.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“Why’d you do that? And yea, who are you even?” Takemichi winced, getting up from the ground.

“Sano.”

“Eh? Sano?” He asked in surprise.

“Morin [ L / N ]-Sano.”

“D&D motors” Read on the shop [ Y / N ] went off to collect her car that had been damaged and repaired.

“He looks good as new.” Seishu says, tossing the car keys to [ Y / N ].

“He does, thank you.” She agreed, fingers brushing over to the once damaged door which was now brand-new quality. “Welcome back, baby.” She muttered.

Inui was counting the cash she had paid him when her phone started to ring, “[ Y / N ]– desu.” She answers upon seeing Hina’s name on the screen.

“Hey, are you home yet?” The girl on the other line spoke.

“No, I’m on my way to Yokohama.” [ Y / N ] answered.

“Huh? This late?”

“Racing stuff. Are you home?” She asks, changing the matters in an instant.

“Yeah. Takemichi-kun just dropped me off.”

“That’s great, good night Hina-chan.” She nodded.

“Good night, [ Y / N ]-chan!”

“Try not to answer the phone while you’re driving this time.” Seishu noted, folding up a greased towel in his hands.

“Too soon.” [ Y / N ] turns to him with a straight face. “Still giving you a tip though. Thanks.” But she smiles in an instant, slipping a 500-yen bill in his work shirt pocket before getting in the car to leave for Yokohama.

“[ Y / N ] is sneaking off somewhere. We can’t take you to her.” Hina spoke upon ending the call.

“Of course you can’t!” Morin scoffed. “What’s your plan? Drop me off at her place like— ‘Hey! It’s me! Oh, who’s this? It’s your child. Gotta go’!” She narrated.

“I don’t understand…” With brows tense, and deep into thoughts, Takemichi spoke out. “You weren’t even born yet when I time leaped.” He mentioned, having recalled that [ Y / N ] just found out she was pregnant at the hospital in the future.

“Seems like I’m from far ahead than where you were from.” Morin added.

“Are you sure you’re not another half-sibling or something?” Takemichi scratched his head. Morin sighed in response, taking out a folded up photo from her pocket.

“This is what dad looked like in the future, right?” She asks, showing a photo of an adult Mikey and [ Y / N ] on a beach. She had snuck this from when they were packing things, meaning to keep it in an album before she miraculously went back in time.

“He’s gone and it was just me and mom.” She added.

“Seems that we have the same abilities but you are physically here.” Takemichi pointed out. “Fascinating.” He added.

“What do you mean?”

“I can only time leap twelve years into the past, then back to the future. However, only my consciousness ‘travels’. I’m basically the grown up ‘me’ in my high school self.” He explained. “You weren’t even alive this time. You’re really here. The future [ Y / N ] must be wondering where you are.”

“That is so cool.” She replied. “But, you're right. So, what do we do?” Morin asks.

“Go back. Who’s your trigger?” He asks.

“...what?”

“Listen, what I’m doing here can get dangerous. I… I died in the future I just came from.” He explained, muttering the last part loud enough only for her to hear.

“Damn.” She sighed heavily.

“The [ Y / N ] I know in the future has been hurt enough already, please just come back to her before anything happens to you. She can’t lose both you and Mikey-lun.” He stressed.

“You’re here because you want to get her back, right?” Morin hinted. “Well, I’m here to be with them. I’m not going back until I’m sure mom and dad end up together.” She confided.

“Tsk.” Takemichi sighed, burying his head in his palms.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” The girl questioned.

“You really are their kid.” He sighed in response.

“Eh?”

“You’re brave. Like Mikey-kun and [ Y / N ].” He vouched. “Fine, we’re going to talk tomorrow. For now, do you have anywhere to stay?”

“No. I’ve been sleeping on trains since I got here.” Morin answered.

“You can stay at our home.” Hina insisted. “Will your folks be okay with that?” She asks. “ I’ll just tell them you’re sleeping over because your parents aren’t home.” Hina says. “That works.” The other girl agreed.

“Alright, let’s get going, then.” Takemichi stood from the slide, following the girls as they walked ahead.

“So, that’s how the slap felt.” Morin says, feeling her cheek.

“Hm?” Hina turns to her.

“Mom said you slapped dad in the face one time.” She replied.

“Eh, yes…” Hina chuckled tensely, “Anyways, I’m really sorry about that.” She added.

“No worries.” Morin laughed.

“I still can’t believe it, you really are Mikey-kun and [ Y / N ]’s kid.” Takemichi mentioned it upon listening to their conversation.

“She has Mikey-kun’s hair too.” Hina pointed out.

“For the record, this is really weird to me too.” Morin turns to face him with a laugh. He got shivers just by looking at her due to how startlingly similar her expressions were to those of her father.

“Wait until you meet them, I guess.”

tag list [ open ]: @haimyvu @rizakari @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @mitsurisupremacy @moontofu @psmslove @slutaholic69 @im-like-yeah-hes-fine @keomi-kimo @springtimewolf1995 @bebesanzu @imshittingforyelena @dailyakira @idunnomynamesince2005 @juanaisdead @emilymikado @haruu-i @keisaint @misinfe @fxshigurosbae @xxserenitysnow666xx @emyrl @xngelsau @melody005 @daichisbabymama @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @r-xochitl @sleezy-axeriix @pandabooster @amerillyss @tellynojelly @kenkenmaaa @astrodiamond @ikilledsparky2 @soushswag @eriskaitto @awkwardaardvarkforever

#if/then #tokyo revengers #manjiro sano #mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey sano x reader #mikey imagines

[libbee]

hi, can my feelings of sudden and unexplainable guilt be linked to people being mad at me from their self made projections about me. it's like a spiritual warfare that's going on and it's because of them not me. and lot of times i also intuitively feel the need to adapt and adjust to a different me so that doesn't piss off people (who don't know me, i get projected a lot) in order to keep the peace

i have 1st house lilith, 12th house sun, pisces rising and scorpio mars in vedic

Hello,

You say sudden and unexplainable guilt... to adapt and adjust to a different me so that does not piss off people. And that people project a lot to you.

Could it be that you feel guilt because you change yourself around people? See, every situation is different and we do unconsciously adapt to the environment and mirror the feelings of other people. This is necessity of social life. But after this trip around the town, do you come back home?

Guilt is a relatable emotion and I can say I feel guilty when I do something that is not consistent with my... values. I do not have any strict written down values but when the heart says something is not right, it wants to analyze some event or interaction.

A sudden pang in the chest, a quiet voice persistently whispering at the back of our mind, we experience guilt when our actions, or deliberate lack thereof, infringe upon our personal ethical code or societal norms.- https://thisjungianlife.com/guilt/

So perhaps the guilt is invitation to build a home inside yourself, where you feel at equilibrium, peace, safe beyond the influences of other people. How a home feels just right.

[musingsofanaroace]

Realizing I Had Autism

When did I suspect I had autism? In 2008, I had an interest in reading memoirs. One day, I came across Look Me in the Eye by John Elder Robison at my local library. While reading it, I noticed that many of his autistic traits matched with my unexplained and unusual behaviors.

My interest in memoirs quickly morphed into an interest in autism or Asperger’s as it was known then. I related heavily with people who had this neurodevelopmental condition but not completely, for alas, the term AuDHD didn’t exist yet. 

At the time, I came to the erroneous conclusion that I didn’t have autism. It wasn’t until SciGuys did an episode on it that I realized I definitely had it. No doubt about it! Not long after that revelation, I went through the arduous process of getting an ASD assessment.

What traits of autism do I have?

Note: In this post, I will cover some but not all of the autistic traits I have. If I mentioned all of them, this post would be too long!

I’ve always had problems with oral communication. I take things literally and don’t know when someone is joshing with me. I also have a hard time figuring out facial expressions and how those translate into emotions. If you don’t tell me explicitly how you’re feeling, I won’t intuit it on my own. I also find that people often misunderstand me or find me rude, which I don’t get at all. I always try to be polite and friendly. People have also told me to smile or cheer up even when I’m happy.

I’ve always had an aversion to the phone even when talking to family and friends. I always have to script what I’ll say, and I’ll procrastinate making a phone call (even an important one) for hours or days. Once I’ve made the phone call and am speaking with someone, I have a hard time understanding what they’re saying. I definitely need subtitles or the ability to read their lips. I even social script before meeting someone in person for the first time. And job interviews are an absolute nightmare!

And even though it’s not true for all autistics, I’m the type of autistic who hates eye contact. It makes me feel extremely uncomfortable like the sensation of bugs crawling under your skin. I also feel this way about hugs. When I know that someone expects or wants a hug from me, I have to mentally prepare myself. And this includes hugging family and friends.

I also struggle with emotional dysregulation. In this post, I’ll only focus on alexithymia. I have a really hard time describing or identifying my feelings. When I feel “not right”, I can’t immediately tell if its something like hunger or the start of an illness. And this lack of awareness makes it difficult to communicate my needs to family, friends, and medical professionals. 

I also hate it when people ask me, “How are you?” or “How are you feeling?” Because nearly all of the time, I simply want to respond, “I don’t know. Give me an hour, and I’ll get back to you.” And its this lack of emotional awareness that leads to many of my shutdowns and meltdowns. 

I also experience autistic inertia. It takes me forever to start a task, but once I do, I am that task until I complete it, or my timer goes off. And once one of those two inevitable events occur, I find it extremely difficult switching to the next task. And it’s very easy to get derailed. For example, as a kid, I would stay in the bathtub until my skin became wrinkled, or the water got too cold.

Another trait, I require routines to function and love making schedules even though my ADHD makes it difficult to stick to them. I’m also highly resistant to change, and even the slightest disruption in my daily routine or schedule will ruin me and disrupt my internal equilibrium. Every item I own has its place, and I become distressed when it’s moved or missing. Note: In nine out of ten cases, I can blame my ADHD. This is especially true for stores. When they move an item to a different location, I feel disorientated, which increases my anxiety. Shopping is already stressful enough without having the entire bloody store rearranged to make it even more so!

Now, I’ll discuss stimming. When concentrating (ie. Writing a novel.) I rock from side to side, which loosens the screws on my desk chair. (Sigh.) I always have to retighten them after every writing session. I will also play with the tags on my shirts or rub the cotton fabric with my pointer finger and thumb. When excited, I flap my hands and make a wee sound. I may also twist and clap my hands. And when at the ultimate level of excitement, foot stomping may commence. When frustrated, I used to pound the surface of my metal desk with my fists, but now I simply walk in circles flapping my hands and talking through the frustration. It may look bizarre, but at least I don’t injure my hands or risk broken bones. 

I only stim when at home, and only really close family and friends have seen me stim. I’d feel too embarrassed doing it anywhere else.

Let's move on to the next trait: hyperfixation. When engaged in a specific hobby or interest, I become unaware of my surroundings or bodily needs. In that moment, only the hobby or interest exists and nothing else. That's why I have to set a timer beforehand, or I'll never stop. Since a kid, I've enjoyed writing stories and playing PC puzzle games. I also have an interest in dinosaurs and ancient civilizations. Don't get me started on any of these topics, for once you do, I won't shut up. It's full steam ahead!

Before addressing the final trait, I would like to discuss a few of the autistic traits I displayed as a child.

When I was a toddler, I liked watching the clothes as they tumbled in the dryer and the rain as it slid down the windowpane. I didn’t like dishes that combined too many different food types and would spend several minutes deconstructing it into its individual parts before taking a single bite. I also hated spoons and would only eat with a fork. If I had to eat soup or cereal, I would simply drink it.

I also had delayed speech and didn’t start speaking until I was three. At first, I would simply repeat what other said. And only after several sessions of speech therapy did I finally form my own words and sentences.

In Kindergarden, I enjoyed playing by myself. I would spend playtime color coding these cardboard bricks before lining and stacking them up. Each row a different color. I also liked to line up my toy cars and plastic dinosaurs. When a bit older, I would display my toys rather than play with them. When my sister touched them, I would become agitated and annoyed. For each toy had a specific place on my self, and it belonged nowhere else.

In primary school, I had unusual interests. I hated cartoons and would only watch game shows or documentaries. The only animated films I watched were those produced by Disney or those related to my special interests.

And now, I'll address the final autistic trait I have: sensory issues. In regards to sight, I find everything too bright. The world contains too many headlights, fluorescent lights, streetlights, parking lights, and traffic lights. The two worse offenders are headlights mixed with rain, and the sun reflecting off of snow.

In regards to sound, I can’t stand sudden, high pitched noises such as sirens, alarms, or fireworks. The Fourth of July is the worst holiday in my opinion. I also have difficulty in crowded spaces where there are too many people conversing simultaneously, or when I’m assaulted by multiple environmental and manmade noises at once.

In regards to smell, I can’t stand the scent of tar, coffee, body odor, or certain perfumes/colognes. And contrary to popular belief, I don’t become accustomed to these offending odors over time. Instead of decreasing in intensity the longer I’m exposed to them, the opposite happens. I become even more aware of them, and thus they become even more offensive to me.

In regards to taste, I can’t stand when my food contains too many spices or condiments. I therefore eat and enjoy pretty bland dishes.

In regards to texture, I can’t stand the feel of Brussel sprouts, peaches, or meat in my mouth. I also need to wash my clothes in fabric softener before I wear them for the first time. This makes trying on clothes before I buy them difficult.

In regards to proprioception, I’m always bumping into things and getting bruises with no known origin. As a kid, I really struggled learning how to ride a bike without the training wheels and didn’t accomplish this feat until I was ten. I also struggle with writing neatly, tying my shoes, roller skating, bowling, miniature golfing, skipping rope, and playing ball sports. I also don’t seem to have a sense of effort or heaviness. As a kid, I unintentionally broke many pens and pencils. And I’m constantly surprised by how heavy or light something is.

In regards to interoception, I have a high pain tolerance and an unawareness of my internal needs such as hunger or thirst. 

And lastly, in regards to vestibular, my balance is atrocious. Don’t ask me to walk a straight line, cut on the line, or color within the lines because I will not be able to complete these simple tasks.

And this concludes how I realized I had autism. If you have anything to add, please leave it in the comments. Until next time, take care and stay curious. 

#autism #autism spectrum disorder #personal essay #audhd #sci guys #neurodivergent #Youtube

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Chapter Update: Of Stars and Plebes

Of Stars and Plebes: Chapter 15 -- “I Gave Up McDonalds Fries for Him.”

I’ve just added a new chapter to my fic “Of Stars and Plebes”. [Read from the beginning]

Chapter 15 teaser:

“Has it even occurred to you yet to possibly ask me why I may have missed the class?” Jim was wearing an expression that was equal parts fierce and hurt, and it abruptly deflated the edge of frustration Spock had previously felt mounting. It dawned on him that no, he hadn’t bothered to ask – or even considered it. “That I might have a valid reason?”

“I confess, I had not considered it.”

“Of course you hadn’t.” Jim flashed a heated glare with thistle eyes. “You assumed that I was being flippant without providing me an opportunity to discuss what transpired earlier, impacting my attendance. But I’m a fallible human after all, aren’t I?”

“Jim . . .”

“Don’t behave as if that isn’t at the root of this,” Kirk pressed. “Your mistrust of me today stems from my – from our –” Jim took note of the brief flinch that ghosted Spock’s features for a moment “human blood.” The pair stood staring at each other for an intense beat. “Is that what this is about, Spock? That you haven’t learned to trust me completely yet due to my humanity? Or was it that I embarrassed you?” 

Spock seemed briefly ruffled by Jim's outburst before he composed himself. He was now beginning to comprehend the whispers along the Starfleet halls about Jim's demeanor in classes, once aptly described as "think or sink". He was certainly feeling that now.

“If you want to affix a human emotion to the situation . . .”

“Well, here it is. You are aware of what happened yesterday with McCoy. If you'd have seen him this morning, you would understand." Jim said this softly, and Spock felt the tension in his back starting to give. He had wondered how the doctor had fared . . . "One of my closest friends really needed help. I was there for him. And I’ll talk with Vaidya about why I was absent face to face, as I recognize that writing may be perceived as lacking in sentiment. However, Mr. Spock . . .  " Jim's stance switched from leisurely to assertive. He pointed at the Vulcan determinedly.

"You have no right to tell me what my priorities should be, and don’t you get to thinking that you can.” Jim said sharply, and Spock felt – was that a thrill of excitement? A heat coiling in his abdomen and chest, a powerful resistance of an urge to smile and reveal how Jim’s fierce will both impressed and amused him.

It also did things to him in a way that he knew he likely should not be feeling for a friend.

As Jim ranted, Spock was reminded of his own human mother gesticulating and taking a stance against his stubborn father on some matter. She had no trouble speaking her mind, and it seemed Jim was no different. He was cracking off a piece of the Vulcan effortlessly, and yet Spock found himself strangely comforted by the familiarity of it.

He was . . . beginning to feel the human side of himself expanding within, growing, learning, adapting. It was a part of his garden previously left unattended -- his human half was wilted, uncared for.

Jim had come along and sprung life into something Spock had presumed dead. Worse, something living yet so vile to those of his home planet that he hid it like some forbidden, filthy thing.

He hated how the people of his home planet talked about his father, his mother. He hated how they talked about him, his feelings, and the human blood that coursed through his veins . . .

Yet here Jim was, shaking up his equilibrium, appealing to the humanity inside of him despite himself. He felt.

“. . . And I was going to ask you to come to Iowa with me for Thanksgiving break. We have a lot of work to do on the assignment for Vaidya's class. A lot." Spock snapped back to the here and now, riveted by this curious new development. Thanksgiving break? Iowa? Spock wended on the words as Jim ranted animatedly before him, arms punctuating his words:

"But now I’m annoyed with you, and questioning the sanity of bringing you for any length of time on a vacation, among my human loved ones. Or is that such a dirty word to you?” Jim gave Spock a sidelong glance full of sass, fists on his hips in defiance, and Spock pressed his lips together to resist an urge to laugh at the spite and gall of the smaller human before him. Even when distinctly annoyed, Jim was still ridiculously handsome.

“Am I to understand that you have just simultaneously lectured me, insulted me, and invited me to a holiday dinner event with your family?”

They looked at each other in silence for a few beats of time, Jim blinking at the Vulcan in a long-suffering manner before replying pointedly:

“Did I stutter?”

Read all of Chapter 15 of “Of Stars and Plebes” here

Start from Chapter 1 here

#1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt #oc #ocspirk #octrek #star trek #tos #star trek snw #star trek tos #spirk #spirk fic #spirk fanfic #k/s #k/s fic #k/s fanfic #kirk/spock #kirk/spock fic #kirk/spock fanfic #slash fic #my fic #kirkxspock #kirk x spock #james t. kirk #mr. spock #fanfiction #fanfic #star trek fic #star trek fanfic #slash fanfic #space husbands #octrekart

[story-told]

Okay, I watched Unforgotten Night on @lutawolf and @iffervescent 's recommendations. Congratulations, ladies. You've reasserted your sadomasochist credentials 😒😖 (still love you with all my heart 💓💓💓)

The show is based on a terrible god awful D/s dynamic premise, with Kamol as the high octane mafioso-Dom (which he failed to portray, with astonishing yet depressing consistency) and Kim as our weepy uwu sub (heaven help this poor boy, he has the emotional intelligence of a bath sponge and the self preservation of a kitty on catnip)

I'm not going to go over the plot and my review of it, partly because there is none. But mostly because it's already been covered by the lovely Luta and iffy in their posts here and here. However, since the plot is BDSM-centric, I thought it appropriate to cover certain red flag practices as portrayed in the show.

No prior scene discussions: Do anything to me ??

To anyone new to the community who might be reading- always, always discuss the acts you're going to engage in and the details of the scene itself beforehand. Sort out your triggers, set your limits, declare your preferences and most importantly set a safeword/safe action (even if your partner is half-heartedly tickling you with a nine tails). If you're uncomfortable, stop it right there. It doesn't matter if you're a Dom or sub.

The lack of aftercare: Listen up, my fellow Doms on here. You do not skip aftercare. I don't care how tired you are or how unsatisfactory the experience was- you fucking look after your partner once the scene is over. They're bound to be emotionally fragile and sometimes even physically shaky after such an intense experience. Make sure you and your partner are hydrated, your sugar levels are stable and you're both (or all, if there are multiple partners involved) in close contact as you discuss the scene and debrief one another.

Personal safety check: Okay listen, when you're entering a D/s arrangement- whether long-term or temporary; you make sure your partner is a safe person and will ensure your scene is safe, sane and consensual. Ask around, or if you can't, then take the time to get to know them outside of a D/s setting- the right sort of person will be happy to do that with you. And for your first time, make sure at least 3 of your most trusted loved ones know where you are and whom you're with. And I cannot stress this enough but DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES GO HOME WITH AN UNKNOWN PERSON Dom or sub for a wild night of BDSM. You're going to be extremely vulnerable and you need to protect yourself.

Emotional vulnerability and cool down time: Ok, so you've just had a break-up and you feel like you need some *spice* in your life. You think to yourself, why not try out a kinky one-night stand? And sure, go ahead. I'd be the last person to judge you. But ask yourself, have you recovered enough emotionally to put yourself through such an intense experience? One that requires you to be so open and vulnerable? Give yourself time to heal and come back to equilibrium before you engage in Kink. Especially if you want to try out Domming/subbing- that way everyone is safe and has a good time.

Education: A panic-fuelled post fuck Google sesh does not informed consent make. Read up and research the community and what goes into a D/s dynamic. Study the acts and compare your preferences and limits accordingly. It doesn't matter if you're serious about committing to it or not. If you're thinking about it, you will research thoroughly. That's the rule.

Lastly, make sure that your foray into Kink is coming from a place of confidence and curiosity, and that it's not a result of pressure or desperation/emotional volatility.

Love you guys! Remember to be smart and practice safety, sanity and ENTHUSIASTIC consent-driven BDSM.

#unforgotten night #though i wish i could forget it #safe practices #coconuts mafia

[sagittastory]

#1 the state of the human mind

So, unfortunately for whoever, this is my first 'little' post. For the TLDR; essentially the post covers my thoughts on the state of the human mind (self explanatory) but also how I perceive all these different aspects of it across the board from viewpoints of medicine, religion, and psychology. In some metaphorical essence, it's my mind's science.

A lot of concepts seem to define the human mind briefly, sectioning it into levels and even four categories. All however, somewhat touch on the topic of internal versus external. Many of which are focused largely on the way a person 'performs' in front of others, or when under the implications of performance by themselves. Such examples of those implications can be (in my opinion) perceived in mental illness, or simpler things such as societal expectations; that deep, innate fear of being watched by humanity, your family or the dark.

For example:

This specific model differentiates the internal and external as ways of thought: in a nutshell, External is your autopilot responses to your environment. On the other hand, Internal is your little monologues or active analysis of your own thoughts. That's unsurprisingly simple.

Meanwhile, an accumulation of sources on the almighty Wikipedia will tell us that: 'There is a great variety of types of mental states including perception, bodily awareness, thought, belief, desire, motivation, intention, deliberation, decision, pleasure, emotion, mood, imagination and memory'. Which on it's own, frankly, takes a bit to decode for the more complex ones.

Right, so let's be honest: you probably have no idea where I'm going with this, so just incase you skipped all of that, I've highlighted this part in a nice vibrant red just for you.

I believe humans live in a constant state of questioning; be it by their subconscious or their conscious state. This so called 'state' can become 'critical', and lie on a coordinate plane grid. Rather than thinking linearly between 'good' and 'bad', (which is often what we tend to do, although I doubt that I speak for all) human consciousness is constantly fluctuating between awareness and this so called autopilot as described by many other people. Now, the ironic thing with empathy is how we assume our experiences are akin to another: that our grid has the same function. However, our x/y axis may differentiate; be it under measurements or even similar naming. You could even apply that strange mathematical concept to how people grow up in traumatic environments. Therefore, what is one state of the human mind is another to someone else. This is clearly defined in our societies understanding of "normalcy".

Normalcy is an unwritten rule that every person defines for themselves - it's simply all based on your own (or of many peoples) accumulated experiences. As most people know, normality simply does not exist: it is just what you're used to. Therefore, this idea of normalcy spreads through our communities and you know what? It has benefits as it does consequences - that's the simple equilibrium of life. Most humans are great at categorizing, and it shows in our research on the mind where we limit ourselves to these select few 'mindsets' - which I will mention is incredibly ironic as our language is mostly fluid in definition and changes overtime, therefore making these models fluid as well, alongside the additions of research that sooner or later make them particularly outdated. Fortunately for us, change is simply part of the process - although the human brain can 'mess' with that too, keeping us quite rigid. After all, we do rely on a lot of old models even now.

The idea of a 'healthy' state of mind can be a strange one, especially since everyone's mind is literally different. This is also largely debated, but most people conclude that a mind with a lack of 'extreme' thoughts is a healthy mind. A mind where one is available to change based off it's environment, and is able to reflect within the internal analysis. Essentially, what we're describing here is self awareness. Now I'd like to highlight a common problem that's common among some of the autistic and or simply self-aware community engaging in CBT (Cognitive behavioral therapy). Incase you do struggle with that cliché "why am I even here" chat with yourself, I'd recommend switching to a form of somatic psychotherapy, but I'll probably mention that struggle in another post. This problem is most likely highly related to how the brain (in one sense) becomes too focused on both this idea of normalcy (in the discovery of feeling comfortable with your identity and consciousness) and the extreme analysis leads you to reject what your body tells you. Your body encompasses your emotions, and to be unable to identify the locations or fully allow your body to release these sensations as a response to your environment, it will lead to a build up of stress.

I suppose my first post didn't have much of a conclusion, nor a focus. Regardless, I have a keen interest in these things. I'll post something better next time.

#mental problems #awareness #understanding #theories #speculations #philosophy #psychology #ramblings #just a silly idea i had #feel free to repost #sorry for long post

[ceo-of-masturbation]

James Washington

"I regret nothing"

James Alex Wesley Washington, born as Yakob Arvo Viktor is a prolific killer for hire and friend of Jeremiah Yellowstone. Nicknamed "Vengeance", "Red Menace" and "Loudmouth Gopnik" is main protagonist of Operation: Godkiller. He is a fan of close combat and he often goes completely berzerk.

Origins

James was born around early 2000's in St. Petersburg, Russia. Throughout his early childhood he tend to be really emotional and trying to understand his early friends: Mikhail, Ilya and Vadim. He got adopted later on by Washingtons and was brought to New York City. He was growing up nearly alone, besides Debbie, his adopted sister and some of his neighbours who would visit them from time to time. Around 2nd grade, he met his school "rival", Ola and started to trying to win against here here and there. Soon it went from "rival" to "friend". James also was seeing Ola's second nature when sje has beaten their school bullies and nearly beaten one into a coma. Around this time, James also met his future partner-in-crime and friend, Jeremiah. Jeremiah's parents tend to be of military background, and they knew about James's adoptive parents from meeting them on few occasions. When their old bullies tried to confront them again (this time to be seen just as mildly annoying), one of them pulled a gun and tried to aim at James. Right before that vandal could fire, Ola shot from her own pistol next to him as a warning to not approach them. Sarah, Buck and Stacey, their bullies, stood in shock as they've heard Ola's threats and seeing her sadistic smile along with her now showing some knowledge about gun handling. Later on, as Ola and Jeremiah started teaching James how to use a gun in self-defence, James started to show his craziness. Around that time, Ola revealed to James, that she developed a crush on him through years. Before their relationship can go even further, Ola gets shot in a drive-by and dies bleeding out in James's arms. Along with her parents dead and Ola's class ,and to extend, school mourning over her, James swears to get his revenge and find killers of his loved one. During one occasion, he meets a man known as Oligarch, a son of russian gang on whose drive-by occured. By helping James with his arms training along with teaching him about gangs and organized crime group in NYC, James later gets sent to get his revenge. Before his near death after his avenging of Ola and others dying from group called "The Collectors", he gets saved by Jeremiah and James notices his lack of emotions when killing reinforcements sent to The Collectors hideout. James swears to one day find the source of all bad things happening to him and torture it for his every single loss of anyone close to him.

2. Overview

James from two main characters is the one focused on closer and more "personal" approach and his style is more designed with things like shotguns, smg's and machine guns. James has several unique traits to help him out during combat and roaming:

-Dual wielding: Dual wield two sidearms or meele weapons, later involves into dual wielded primary weapons

-Rage mode: Gets nullified damage and extreme damage, movement and agility bonus

-Masochistic: Some damage gets nullified or turned into small dose of health

-Explosive temper: Big chance for critical hits and exhausting some of enemies along with better withstanding of various hits

-Cannibalistic: Can eat enemy's corpse (or remains) to gain some health, ammo and some money

James has several bikes at his disposal, but he can drive cars, boats and some other vehicles just right. Not as good as Jeremiah tho.

3. Behind the scenes

James was mainly inspired by Trevor Phillips from Grand Theft Auto 5, Frank Castle from The Punisher, movies like Hobo With a Shotgun, Equilibrium, Machete and Forrest Gump.

Is usually joked that James might be have a "shit fetish". Especially those jokes are made by Jeremiah and Debbie.

In some cases, James can be seen hallucinating a lot of things. It can be explained by his mental breakdown, blood loss or possible exposion to things like drugs in the smoke or in the water.

Although, he is seen using his right arm most of the time, James is actually left-handed.

His original third name comes from Viktor Tsoi, a russian musician. His english third name comes from character of Wesly from movie Wanted.

Originally James was supposed to be from Moscow, but it was changed to be from St. Petersburg.

His "original" family from russia was made of various families related to armed forces, old soviet workers and law enforcement units. Most notable are Igor Tokarev, Afghan, Yuri Kamyenskyi, Sasha Stechkin, Ilya Shpagin and Anatolyi Makarov.

There is implied, that James might have autism or at least be somewhere on the spectrum or at least have some kind of other mental illness.

#writing #comics #character #concept #holy hell #its a lot

[loveandpain312]

May 20, 2023

Sydney & Veda both did reflection exercises with their diaries- And here I am- no constant diary because I can never commit. I am done with that!!!!!! I will write every week. I PROMISE!!!!

What’s new? I am home-enjoying spring in Minnesota. I love spring. I always have, always will. It is part of who I am. It’s deeply ingrained in my roots. Spring is about new life, new beginnings. I feel being away, has opened me up to truly appreciate where I am from, my home. I am working a lot at Acapulco. It will most likely be my last chunk of time working there-unless I end up back around here teaching and work there in the summer to keep me busy. I am working a lot towards figuring out my life in England with Ryan. I am excited. Let’s talk about Ryan. I am happy. I am so content with our relationship. I truly feel as if he is my life partner. We work so well together, and we’ve found this equilibrium. I am so so so so so excited to be able to actually live life with him and sink into that equilibrium. We have worked so hard at this relationship, I hope that all that hard work paid off, we’ve done the hard part and now we can simply enjoy our relationship. Now I know there are things about him that are going to drive me crazy. He’s impatient, he’s too logical (lacks emotional intelligence), he’s too distracted. But he’s a human, and all humans are tainted in some way. He has ADHD- it effects him, it’s why he has those problems. But these things make him who he is, so I love those things too. They also mean he is loyal, caring, intelligent and real. I have faith he will grow into an amazing man, who can control his darker sides, grow out of them, and trust me, feel safe enough with me to hold his hand through it. And honestly, his weaknesses are my strengths. I am super patient. I am super emotional. I am super focused. I believe it may make us balance each other out perfectly. I am so excited to live with him- I am so excited to finally commit to him and make sure he feels so loved every single day. 

The only thing that has potential to threaten us, right now, is our future desires. I told him I would be okay moving to Japan for 3 years, if when we move back we settle down around here. That’s something I’ve become confident in-knowing I want and need to settle down around here-raise my babies with my family surrounding us and them. And if Ryan decides, he absolutely does not, then I don’t think I can go with him. But I am good at living in the present. And I think that’s okay. It will work out exactly as it’s supposed to. I trust that. I choose to be happy in this moment with him. He is my true love. It’s honestly hard for me to say that, because it means so much when it’s real. I think back to when I met him- how my love for him has always been pure and never faltered. He comes home in 22 days, and we are going to Colorado for Brook and Mikaylas wedding :) I am sooo excited. 

Me and mom just watched The queen charolette story of Bridgerton and it was so good I loved it. It is such a raw, beautiful, heartbreaking love story. It really teaches you that loving someone IS a choice- and it’s the most beautiful thing you can do. Humans are all flawed. We are all flawed. And choosing someone to love, to understand, to stand by, despite their flaws, is the most beautiful part of our complicated humanity. 

Today I am going to sydneys cabin for her birthday. I need to stop writing soon so I can go get ready. I think that is good enough of an update for right now. I promise I will be back in a week. 

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[flickeringart]

Short natal chart reading

You asked specifically about your communication style, so I’ll cut to the chase.

Mercury is in Scorpio, which makes your quite impactful, purposeful and potent – you are likely very observant and able to read between the lines. You know the value of information and the impact it can have if revealed at the wrong time or presented in the wrong context or in the wrong way. You’re likely to want to keep your thoughts to yourself and only reveal selected parts to selected people – even if you do reveal yourself it is never the whole picture. You enjoy ambiguity to an extent, although there’s unease relative to what people might keep from you. You reserve your rights to be suspicious at all times - nothing is what it seems. The common stereotype for having Mercury in Scorpio is the “detective”. You might not want to leave any stone left unturned in your thinking process – which can take you into quite complex and intricate trains of thought on a daily basis.  Since Mercury is conjunct the Sun, you derive a sense of self from your thinking – which can be both good and bad. Good because you feel that you are standing behind every word and thought that occupy your mind, bad because you might have a hard time differentiating yourself from your thinking. You might feel that your way of communicating is very much a reflection of who you are. This is not the case for everyone. Your Sun and Mercury are in the 1st house of Self, which means that you show up as your authentic self – people see you in your outward projected persona and what you think is a big part of who you are.

Your Sun-Mercury conjunction forms a strong square to Jupiter in the 11th. It might be that you find yourself blocked from accessing the freedom and optimism that you crave because it seems to contradict your way of communicating – even your sense of self. It would seem that, you have to spread yourself thin in order to socialize and be involved with a lot of people and causes, it would seem that you have to exaggerate to the detriment of your own innate caution and need for privacy which is natural to Scorpio individuals. Perhaps you feel that in order to have some chance of luck when interacting with people, you can’t be yourself all the way. You can’t display your true self with your friends and your network because in that sphere, you would feel the need to be purely optimistic open to experience. In your life, there’s expectance of good things to come, perhaps to the point of it being unreasonable – you might exaggerate your optimism in order to compensate for your innate caution and awareness of the impermanence of life. You put your faith in collective aspirations and although you might reap the benefits on one level, on another level you might feel frustrated that you’ve lost yourself to the group – in other words, what you gain from associating with people and forming connections is not allowing you to be yourself and communicate your opinions and thoughts in the way you would want to. Chiron in your 3rd house emphasizes the fact that you have to take a philosophical approach to cope with non-redeemable difficulties in communicating. What these difficulties and issues are exactly is impossible for me to say, possibly it has to do with the ignorance and lack of awareness of people around you – too much discipline or lack thereof in school, too much strictness and demands on how to interact, behave and think. Chiron is in Capricorn, which suggests that you would’ve felt debilitated in your ability to apply yourself effectively in your studies, feeling judged and inferior because of regrettable yet inevitable circumstances.

Saturn is in Gemini in the 9th house. It is also the ruler of your 4thhouse. It would seem that education and knowledge were promoted in your home growing up, not necessarily for the purpose of your own interest and self-fulfillment, but for the purpose of succeeding in society and developing your intellect. Saturn is in retrograde, which usually means that the native is hard pressed to personally undertake challenges for the sake of growth because they might not come on their own – and if they do, they are rarely conducive to goal of being responsible and self-reliant. In other words, you would need to push yourself and put yourself in situations that require effort, consciously. Since your question was specifically about communication, I should say that Saturn in Gemini points to insecurity and a sense of lack in mental abilities that might lead you to put on a charade of wit in order to not reveal your struggles. This is not beneficial although it’s understandable that there’s a hesitant attitude to be open an accepting of one’s insufficiencies. It’s fine to hide behind a coping mechanism as long as one is working on developing oneself from the ground up at the same time. Be honest and real with yourself in your struggle. There’s no shame in admitting to where one’s at and working toward betterment. Getting over the fear of intellectual failure is hard, yet you should keep in mind that you’re only ever truly accountable to yourself despite external authority trying to instill feelings of guilt or shame. Humility is the best antidote to prideful concealment of lack.

Your Moon in the 4th house in Capricorn points to a home with an emphasis on discipline instead of softness. The natural ruler of the 4th house is the opposite sign of Cancer, which has to do with mutual dependence and emotional nurturing within the home. Capricorn as the 4th house ruler is tough because you probably had to work to get your needs met. With your Moon in this sign and in this house, you might’ve adopted the attitude that nothing is for free and that you had to put aside your feelings in order to have a chance of stability and security in the long run. In any case, your home environment growing up was certainly serious. Neptune also sits in this house, squaring your Sun-Mercury conjunction. Perhaps it’s not too presumptuous of me to suggest that you had to blend in to the detriment of your own sense of self and your own mental assessments and opinions. With Neptune in the 4th there’s usually intense idealization as well as sensitivity to the environment and a need to blur the edges in order to cope with the less refined aspects of reality. You seek and sought complete merging within your family home, yet your yearning probably made you feel frustrated with yourself because you could never quite attain the love (Neptune square Venus) or the recognition of yourself that you hoped for (Neptune square Sun-Mercury). Your Venus in Scorpio is also in retrograde which means that external socializing, displays of love and affection was “lost on you” since you have a hard time with real understanding of what underlies social interaction. You might struggle with general unhappiness because of this, but your task is to cultivate the inner experience of satisfaction rather than seeking it in the external. Since you’re a Libra Rising, Venus is your chart ruler and it’s in its detriment in the sign of Scorpio. Your idea of beauty is tainted with themes of passion and intensity; you might enjoy reveling in the darker undercurrents, the things that are shocking, a bit taboo and forbidden.

Your Mars in in Libra, conjunct your Ascendant on the 12th house side. Mars is in the sign of its detriment, quite diplomatic and socially accommodating. Your way of asserting yourself is always aimed at being reasonable in light of the social setting and circumstance you’re in. Since Mars is in the 12th, you assert the will based on universal emotional longings that are common to every human being. You might never fight or argue on behalf of selfish agenda, it’s always in favor of trying to restore equilibrium and an experience of being emotional fused. You probably feel that anger is abstract energy and available for use, but it’s not to be employed on behalf of your separate self. Planets in the 12th can sometimes point to passed down familial issues, in the case of Mars here, personal drive and anger is “stuck in the ether”, unconscious and/or given up to live its own life “back stage”. Aries, the sign ruled by Mars, is in the 7th house, pointing out that you probably encounter your “shadow” (disowned qualities) of anger, selfishness and self-motivated action in other people. In addition, Lilith sits right on the Descendant in Aries, which suggests that you find other people irrationally independent and overly attached to getting their own way. You might even find that you compulsively display these traits in interaction with other people because you feel that you are going to be deprived of your chance to do what you want. You’re likely to feel deprived of your individual potency with these placements and you might come off as obsessively independent in relationships with other people for this reason. The whole dynamic stems from a feeling having to sacrifice personal interest and it often backfires in radical self-absorption and self-motivated action.

Let’s take a look at Pluto, your Sun ruler. It’s in your 2nd house, trine Jupiter and sextile Mars. You’re likely to be quite possessive fearfully protective of your material resources, which includes money and finances. You might be quietly and covertly acquiring your material necessities, or avoiding it all together because of the constant paranoia and threat of the rug being pulled out from underneath you. You don’t trust that you’re going to have enough for yourself to be content, ever, so you might be quite powerful and persevering in your quest for value. Pluto and Scorpio have a lot to do with impermanence and expecting crises to envelop without a moments notice so you’re always “on your toes” internally, scanning for potential chaos to break lose, especially as it relates to loosing what you value on a purely material level. This is especially true since Scorpio rules your 2nd house and Pluto is placed here. The Pluto-Jupiter trine would denote a strong sense of faith and confidence in your ability to survive ordeals, perhaps due to your sense of being part of something larger than yourself (Jupiter in the 11th house).  You might be concerned with how to regenerate faith and find value in seemingly “dead matter”, metaphorically or literally speaking. Your Part of Fortune is conjunct Jupiter, which pints to your prosperity coming through the broadening and expanding of your understanding of life through involvement in groups or causes. It’s quite possibly even linked to your career. You might take on the role of the inspiring and visionary teacher that transforms people’s lives (Pluto trine Jupiter). Or, put in other terms, your teaching and sharing of yourself will make you feel powerful and impactful in the world of ideas as well as that of form (Jupiter in 11th trine Pluto in the 2nd). Your South Node conjuncts your Pluto, so it’s easy for you to wield subtle power and take control. Pluto sextile Mars gives you a relentless will; you do fight dirty even if it’s below the surface and through quiet coercing and strategic manipulation that is barely noticed. Guilt seems to be a popular tool for Scorpio Mars in attempt to control matters, and the same could be said for Pluto-Mars aspects. Mars in the 12th easily lends itself to acting out the role of the martyr or victim of circumstances and when aspecting Pluto, this can be used strategically. You can probably be a little ambiguous and subtly threatening in your actions in order to get what you want.

Finally, let’s look at Uranus. It’s in its domicile in Aquarius in the 5thhouse, trine Saturn. The 5th house has to do with activities of self-expression and it would seem that you find an outlet for breaking out of the societal bars of convention within this sphere. You might have fun exploring new collective trends and ways of expressing yourself that challenges the status quo. It would seem that you incorporate your offbeat ways nicely with the necessity to conform and succeed within society, since Uranus trines Saturn. However, seeing as Saturn is in retrograde, you are not particularly in touch with the limits and boundaries of society – they don’t make sense to you. You might set high goals for yourself and work diligently to reach them, yet you don’t experience a correlation between your effort and the payoff. Looking to what is wrong with authority, rebelling against it and pushing new, more progressive thought systems might come easily to you for this reason. You might be inclined to hop on a collective thought trend and identify with it, embody it in your own unique way. You’re likely to express alternative ideas and conceptual framework through your creativity and spontaneity.

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If you’re interested a general chart reading similar to this one feel free to message me. I do a Basic Natal Chart Reading without the use of astrological language for 13.44 USD (6-7 pages), but if you want a more casual overview of your chart or have any specific question you would like me to go into, I charge 10 USD for about 4 pages.

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[whirlybirbs]

✶  ———  MENDING  ;   d.d.

summary: something has unsettled din. you set to find out what. affections brew.   * set post!chapter 11. contains spoilers! *

pairing: din djarin x gender nuetral!reader

word count: 1.8k of pure pining ‘n’ identity crises !

a/n: it’s another notes app fic, baby! the gif above is from this set by the lovely @thewaythisis​! anyways, din can plow me like a field of wheat under the harvest moon whew (panting spongebob meme)

something is bothering him.

it would be a lie to say that din djarin was quiet soul — plainly put, he wasn’t.

he was, if anything, a purposeful and succinct soul who knew how to measure the weight of words when they were spoken. with all the little bell-like tinkers that came from his every step — beskar on beskar — quiet was not a fitting adjective to match that of din djarin. no. he was strong. sturdy. a chant of mando’a in the afternoon sun. intimidating.

something is definitely bothering him.

the ship is a wreck — you’re sure that alone is enough to strike a sore nerve with the mandalorian piloting the vessel. so, as he plots course for the little planet on the edge of nowhere that the striking bo-katan spoke of, you make work on what you can. reinforcing some structural plating, running diagnostics on the fuel-lining that runs beneath the floor plates, and welding the paneling the mon calamari engineer installed to cover the gaping hole in the side of the ship occupies you for a long while.

just the bright flicker of flame and your thoughts.

din hasn’t uttered a word since entering the ship.

you hope, at the very least, he’s taken the time to eat something away from your prying eyes.

the welding torch is hot in your gloved hands when you hear footsteps coming down the ladder into the swaying belly of the razor crest. you knew it was the wing equilibrium counter-weights the moment you took off. not much you can do about it from the inside.

the good news is that the rocking put the child right to sleep.

you pull your goggles down and watch as din djarin carefully carries the little woolen bundle to the hanging hammock within the small cot compartment. he’s exceedingly gentle, incredibly careful. once the child is inside, din dims the lights and closes the door.

you work your gloves off.

he sighs.

again, you can’t help but be struck with worry. the sort that nibbles on your heartstrings just enough to wring a flinch out of you.

“have you eaten?” he asks. his voice is even, almost cold.

you shake your head.

his helmet glints in the overhead light as he juts his chin to the cockpit; wordlessly, you stand and follow — swallows whole by his bulky shadow that looms over you as you hike yourself up the ladder.

din has done some mending of his own, it seems. the netting and twine that was keeping the dash steady had been removed. you can see the tedious, small welding marks from his own tool kit along the seams. you make a mental note to go over it later. in the corner, there’s a pile of the mess.

you land into the passenger’s seat with a huff.

the tube of protein paste that din offers you from his stash beneath the razor crest’s controls has you frowning. but, it’s bantha flavored. better than nothing. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine it being a piece of steak.

almost.

if a steak was cold, pureed, and poured into a jerky-shaped tube.

din is quiet when swings in his chair, turning to nearly face you. he stretches, straightening his back out, then he crosses his arms. his boots plant themselves on the floor. his stance is wide. his posture is sagging.

you swallow your meal.

“did you eat?” your voice feels small.

din nods.

hm.

“... are you hurt?”

more silence. finally, he shakes his head. you know it’s a lie — the last forty-eight hours have left you both with your fair share of lacerations and deep-tissue bruising. beneath the armor, you can only imagine the sort of bruises he’s gotten.

“... tired?”

“this checklist you’re doing,” he rasps out, head lulling to the side as he looks up at the ceiling, “you should be doing it on yourself.”

you scoff into your meal paste.

“maybe.”

a grunt.

silence follows the exchange for a few minutes. it’s once you’ve managed to choke down the entirety of the bantha-flavored mush that you speak again. it’s not courage the drives the question, but concern.

“be honest, din,” you breathe, “are you alright?”

his helmet turns, t-visor glaring at you in the dim light of the cabin. you can see his fingers, gloved and tucked neatly against his biceps, twitch. he inhales deeply. the beskar glimmers with the light of stars that pass by beyond the cockpit window.

he’s rather a sight to behold.

“no.”

you’re startled back to the moment.

when you speak, your voice is soft. the sort of soft that’s begun to erode din’s usual beskar-grade composure. he’s begun to waver, begun to hesitate around you. he finds he can’t help it. he’d grown quite fond of you and your innate ability to give a shit. you’re not asking because you want to get paid, because you expect something of him. no, you’re asking because it matters to you.

he’s finally starting to understand that after cycles and cycles of time spent trying to find the child’s true place in this mess of a galaxy. you’ve been traveling with him since before nevarro — before... before the covert’s split.

before he started to feel so alone.

and confused.

and angry.

so angry.

how many moments has he denied himself because of this armor? how much kindness, how much care? how many friendships has he ignored for the sake of the creed? how many loves have come and gone, as fickle as stardust? what has he missed?

... has he truly even missed anything? that is the way.

he is all sorts of swirling bitterness now, mouth pulled into a firm line beneath the lip of his helmet. to see those others — true mandalorians, ones with clan-names, with lineage-graced armor, who speak the tongue and have touched the soil of the place he has never called home, but always idolized — reveal their faces...

he’s one of them...

children of the watch...

din’s foot taps.

you lean forward.

“din...?”

“the others,” he speaks suddenly, almost in a bark, “called my clan a coven of zealots. fringe radicalists. they showed me their faces and —”

a ragged sigh.

suddenly, you’re beginning to understand.

he’s frustrated.

“i’ve lived my life under a strict code,” din continues, helmet tilted up the ceiling. he’s tracing the bolts with his dark eyes, “one that has given me a purpose, a family, a home. but i can’t help but begin to question the cost.”

you’re listening. you’re pulling your knees up, arms cradling them close. your expression is soft.

“i thought...” then, he lets out a gritted huff of frustration, “i — i never considered my practices to be radical. i thought they were as every mandalorian lived.”

your words are soft. “... in all fairness, your people are living in a diaspora, din. the empire scattered you all to the far corners of the galaxy. it wasn’t as if you were seeing your kin every weekend."

din grunts.

you roll the hem of your tunic between your fingers.

“why is this bothering you?”

“i’ve spent my entire life in armor.”

you frown. din’s head turns and you feel a sad look pull your brows together. you hadn’t... well. his mood is beginning to make a lot of sense now. the frustration, the quiet. all of it.

“i’ve never felt the sea breeze on my face,” he continues, “or... or the kiss of another person. all because i lived my life by the creed i was raised upon. and i was told upon breaking that creed, i’d no longer have a purpose. dar’manda.”

“dar’manda?” the language is harsh on your tongue.

“to... to lose your heritage. to not be mandalorian. the covert believed that bearing your face to another outside of marriage was grounds for ex-communication from the clan. exile.”

“well,” you say after a long moment, crossing your legs and perching on the chair, “that explains the lack the kissing. certainly wasn’t the most important thing on the docket, was it?”

that manages to worm a laugh out of din. the sort that rattles his shoulders and makes his armor swell. he ducks his chin. the sound is still warm as it crackles through his vocalizer.

“interesting point of focus.”

“shut up,” you shirk, “you brought it up.”

“... do you blame me?”

you grow quiet at that but shake your head. your chin finds your hand.

“no,” you say softly, “i don’t. i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.”

“what will you do?”

din straightens a bit at that.

there’s only kindness in your eyes.

“it doesn’t matter now,” din says curtly, as if it’s the easiest answer in the world, “the child is my priority. keep you both safe is my priority.”

slowly, you amble up. your hand finds his pauldron, pressing gently into the fabric between his neck and shoulder oh-so-gently. you mind the affection blooming at his words; you’re careful with how you approach it, just as he is. as if a reflex, his hand snatches up to grip yours tightly.

you welcome it.

you squeeze the cold leather of his gloved hand.

“it does matter,” is uttered out like a sigh; din can’t look up at you. he’s sure his entire chest will burst, “you can’t bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, din.”

“i can manage.”

“let me help.”

a scoff. suddenly his hold tightens. his thumb, ever-so-carefully, ghosts the knuckle of your hand. 

“you do enough.”

it’s your turn to snort.

“i’m practically freeloading, din —”

“no,” he barks, sitting up a bit straighter. now his visor tilts up, and you swear if you looked hard enough, you could see the slope of a nose, the curve of a lip. maybe, if he tilted his head, you could see his jaw — a ghost of a beard, a flash of a throat. he is human. it’s moments like these that remind you, “no, you’re important. you care.”

“— and i eat all your food —”

“you care about me and you care about the child and it matters more than you realize.”

his tone is so final, you feel as if it’s struck an ending note. as if the conversation has ended. that the welling of emotion behind his words is not to be questioned, not to be considered. in the last few cycles, moments like these have become more frequent but still cherished. as rare as they are, they never fail to make you feel like there’s star-shine in your veins. he isn’t one for grandiose confessions. but... this feel special.

his words leave your lips parted, mouth agape. 

and then, in the tiny cockpit, hand in hand with din djarin, all you can muster is a flustered:

“you know, if that helmet wasn’t in the way i would have kissed you cycles ago.”

now, he’s embarassed. it has him laughing — but quiet and shy and all sorts of meak that make the brute of a man seem boyish. his voice is crackled alive with a new-found comfort. he is better now, more like himself and more.

“don’t feed the indentity crisis.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian season 2 spoilers #OHHH DIN MY BABY BOY

[senstia]

~That one time when Andrew thought Neil cheated and it caused a bunch of unnecessary emotional distress~

*andreil

*angst with a happy ending

“A-Andrew?”

“Just go Neil.”

“I don’t understand. This is just over for good? After all this time?” Neil said, his voice breaking.

“This was never anything. And now it’s done. Get away from me.”

Andrew couldn’t bear to look at Neil for another second. His heart felt like it was in a vice grip and it was about to shatter into a million pieces. He’d never felt this level of pain before. And the one person he thought he could trust... No. He was done. Neil chose to cheat on him. Neil ended this. He had no right to look so heartbroken. He had no right to have tears streaming down his scarred cheeks. Andrew stormed out of the dorm before he hit Neil. Or took back every word he had just said. He couldn’t handle another second looking at those blue eyes. He couldn’t handle the way it felt like he’d lost a part of his soul.

~

Neil’s mind was a kaleidoscope of memories blinding him by the second. He couldn’t help but go over everything that had happened in the past month, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Trying to figure out why Andrew had shattered his heart and left him with no warning. He came up empty. They had had no fights, no arguments, nothing of consequence had occurred. He’d been blindsided. And now it felt like he was drowning and there was no way to the surface. To live without Andrew by his side. He would never see those hazel eyes sparkle again. He would never get to feel Andrew’s lips on his skin again. He would never get to have a lazy weekend with Andrew again. He couldn’t bear it, didn’t know how he would be able to survive this. Maybe it would be easier if he knew the reason, but Andrew gave no explanation. He was just done. He knew he would be haunted by this forever. Knew the loss of Andrew would be a scar that never faded. The pain was excruciating.

And there was nothing Neil could do but try to survive without his heart, for it would always belong to Andrew.

~

It was a Saturday night when Andrew had felt his world shatter before his eyes. He had been going to see his stupid junkie. Because he missed him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Of course Andrew had assumed Neil would be alone. The first sign was the thong thrown haphazardly on the floor in the living room, and then the bra following soon after. Andrew had felt nausea roil in his gut at the sight. He knew for a fact no one else was here but Neil. No one else had been staying in the dorm for the past few days, all busy with different plans. And as he had walked closer to the closed door he heard a girlish voice, followed by Neil’s carefree laugh.

“Neil stop it,” the girl said playfully, giggling.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed.

“Damn Neil, you’re insanely sexy. This is perfect!” The girl exclaimed.

Neil giggled softly and Andrew could easily imagine the blush on Neil’s cheeks at the compliment.

“Do you have condoms?” The girl asked playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry,” Neil said.

That was the point of the conversation when Andrew couldn’t stand to listen anymore. The familiar feeling of betrayal ripped through him like wildfire, surprising in its intensity. Neil didn’t want him anymore. Neil had chosen someone else, someone better.

His instinct was to go up to the roof, but he couldn’t bare it anymore. The roof was drowned in memories of Neil. He couldn’t go up there without feeling the echo of Neil’s lips on his skin.

So he started driving. He drove until he buried the heartbreak as far down as he could. Until he felt only numbness. He wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape him. And then he came back and Neil was alone again. He couldn’t bare to ask. Couldn’t bare to hear Neil either lie or confess. He just ended it. Ripped off the bandage. And then it was gone. This light in the darkness. Andrew had been in darkness his whole life, just surviving. And then Neil had come along and it was like he could finally see again, as much as he didn’t want to. And now the light was gone. The universe had proved him right once again. There was nothing good for him here. Neil was and had always been, a pipe dream, and Andrew had finally woken up. It was more painful than he had expected it to be. The pain would linger, he knew. He would never be able to escape it. Because part of his soul was missing now, shredded apart, taken by Neil’s scarred hands and ice blue eyes and silver tongue.

~

It was movie night with the foxes. It had been two days since Andrew and Neil’s breakup and none of the foxes knew. Neil felt nauseous at the thought of having to tell the foxes, of having to be in the same room as Andrew again. He hadn’t seen him since that day. He didn’t want to cry again. For two days he had dreamt of Andrew. Andrew next to him, Andrew loving him, and both times he had woken up to remember the truth. It shattered him every time. He hadn’t expected to cry. But the tears flowed and overflowed and never stopped. Just the thought of Andrew made his throat tighten painfully.

~

Andrew knew he looked like shit. He hadn’t slept one minute the past two days. He hadn’t been able to smoke either, it reminded him too much of Neil. The nicotine withdraw mixed with his grief caused headaches, lack of appetite, nausea. He had already vomited his guts up twice today. He had told Bee what happened, but her advice had just sounded like ringing in his ears, faraway, insignificant. He was drifting off to sea and there was no one to pull him back. And now he had to see him. He had to sit in the same goddamn room as Neil for hours, pretending to care about movie night, pretending to be some form of a capable human being. It was going to be agony to be at a party when he felt like an open wound, raw and bleeding out.

Neil wasn’t there yet when he got in. Andrew dragged his tired body to a beanbag and plopped down, not acknowledging anyone. Normally, he would have stopped to get ice cream first, but he knew he would vomit if he so much as smelled it. Normally he’d be sitting with Neil up against him, his warmth seeping into him like honey. Nothing was normal anymore.

Neil finally appeared in the doorway and it was a slight consolation to Andrew that Neil looked like shit too. His eyes were puffy, red, and bloodshot. He had deep dark circles under his eyes. His hair looked greasy and disheveled, like he hadn’t bothered to wash or brush it in days. His eyes were lifeless, like chips of ice so cold they could burn. Neil’s eyes caught Andrew’s for a moment and his entire body froze. Andrew felt nausea roil in his gut at the feel of Neil’s eyes on him. He looked away quickly.

“Hey... woah Neil. Are you okay? You look like shit,” Matt said.

Neil’s eyes barely flickered in recognition of Matt’s words. He didn’t even look at Matt, his lifeless eyes were glued to the floor.

“I’m fine,” Neil said, his voice cold, dead. Matt looked deeply concerned and he exchanged worried looks with Dan and Nicky. Neil just trudged over to his beanbag on the opposite side of the couch and plopped in it, staring at his hands like he was searching for something there.

“Neil? Can you tell us what’s wrong?” Allison asked, leaning over Neil.

Neil didn’t reply, just flicked his eyes to Andrew for a moment and then went back to staring at his hands.

All the foxes looked to Andrew then.

“Andrew?” Nicky said tentatively.

“We broke up.”

All the foxes froze at this. Eyes jumping between Neil and Andrew over and over, most likely cataloging how miserable they both looked.

“W-what happened?” Nicky asked looking to Neil.

Neil snapped his eyes to Andrew, fire flickering there once again, “He dumped me,” Neil said, his voice like steel. Andrew wanted to bury a knife in his gut in that moment. How dare Neil make him out to be the bad guy?

Andrew snorted, muttered under his breath, “You’re pathetic.”

Neil seemed to freeze at the words, and then deflate. He looked so broken and defeated in that moment that Andrew almost felt regret. No. Neil cheated. He deserved this.

Allison went over and sat next to Neil, wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Mind if I sit with you for the movie?” She asked kindly. Neil just smiled weakly and rested his head on Allison’s shoulder. Nicky gave Andrew a scathing look before flicking the lights off for the movie. By the end Andrew’s head was pounding and he felt one second away from vomiting all over the floor. Nicky, Allison, Matt, and Dan had all been fawning over Neil the entire movie. Bringing him food and drinks, hugging him, whispering words of kindness in his ears. Aaron and Kevin had been cautiously watching Andrew throughout the night but hadn’t said a word. They had looks of concern in their eyes though.

When Nicky flipped the lights on Andrew immediately got up to leave, but he swayed on his feet. He paused, closing his eyes, trying to gain equilibrium. Neil had trudged off to the bathroom so at least Andrew could leave the dorm in peace. Andrew almost didn’t say anything, but he felt their eyes on him, angry and accusing. Because how dare Andrew hurt their perfect little Neil. Andrew paused in the doorway on his way out, turned to look back at the foxes.

“You can stop treating Neil like a broken victim.”

“Why?” Nicky said sharply.

“Because he cheated on me,” Andrew said with a cold grin, saluting the foxes with a hand as he left the dorm.

Andrew felt Aaron on his heels as he was leaving the dorm. He turned around to face him. Aaron looked confused, distraught.

“He cheated on you?”

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” Andrew said, raising a brow.

“How do you know?”

“I heard them. I saw remnants of their clothing on the floor,” Andrew said honestly.

“Another guy?” Aaron asked, sounding afraid.

Andrew swallowed the tightness in his throat, “A girl.”

Anger and disgust flashed in Aaron’s eyes, “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that bastard,” Aaron said venomously. Andrew just laughed coldly and walked away.

“Don’t follow me.”

~

Aaron stormed back into the dorm, ready to rip Neil’s throat out.

“Where’s Neil?” He demanded.

“He just left to go on a run... why do you look like you’re about to commit homicide?” Matt asked cautiously.

“Because that piece of shit cheated on Andrew.” Aaron said.

“I thought Andrew was kidding,” Nicky said.

“Holy shit... Neil actually...” Kevin muttered under his breath.

“Wait. Wait. Are you sure?” Dan asked, looking to Aaron.

“What? You think he’d lie about that?” Aaron asked scathingly.

None of the foxes had a reply to that. They were all standing in shocked silence. Morning practice tomorrow was going to be rough.

~

Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his hand against the goal, trying to fight against his nausea. He knew he was going to vomit again. He just didn’t know when.

Neil hadn’t shown up to practice yet. He was 30 minutes late. All the foxes had been silent throughout practice, only speaking when absolutely necessary. Wymack had asked what the hell was going on so Nicky went up and whispered something in his ear. Wymack stayed quiet after that.

Andrew walked over to the water jug, trying to blink the stars out of his eyes. And then Neil walked onto the court. Andrew physically gagged at the sight and had to swallow back his vomit. Neil looked even worse today, if that were possible. He didn’t look at anyone as he trudged towards the team. He looked dead inside, like a ghost of himself.

Before anyone could react Aaron had Neil slammed against the wall. Aaron punched Neil in the jaw and Neil’s head snapped to the side at the impact but his expression barely changed. He didn’t even fight back. Everyone was frozen, not knowing what to do.

Aaron slammed him harder against the wall, “I should kill you. I should rip your throat out right here.”

Neil just laughed, his expression dead, “I won’t stop you.”

Aaron seemed to pause at Neil’s tone. Because Neil meant it. If Aaron had actually tried to kill him, he wouldn’t have fought back. The lack of fire, the lack of care in Neil’s eyes, it was terrifying. And even though Neil had shattered Andrew, the thought of Neil dead, the thought of Neil wanting to be dead, made Andrew sick. And finally the vomit he’d been holding back all day came out. Everyone turned to Andrew in shock. Andrew was on his hands and knees on the ground now, dry heaving, choking and spitting. He had barely eaten in days, his stomach had nothing left to reject but the feeling of his heart shattering over again.

“Andrew,” Neil said breathlessly, breaking apart from Aaron to run to Andrew’s side. Andrew kept dry heaving, didn’t have enough energy to push Neil away when he settled next to him on the ground.

When Andrew finally stopped dry heaving he turned a scathing look to Neil, grabbed his shirt with a fist and pulled him closer.

“You piece of shit. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to give up. You don’t get to want to die. Don’t you fucking dare Abram.”

Neil’s eyes widened, he shook his head, over and over, “I can’t... I can’t do this Andrew. It hurts too much.”

And for some reason at those words Andrew paused, realized something. Neil had never once looked guilty. He had never once looked regretful. He had only looked heartbroken and confused. Either that meant that Neil was much more heartless than Andrew had thought, or... No. There’s no way Andrew was wrong. He knows what he heard. He knows what he saw. But some instinct inside of him made him pause. He knew Neil better than he knew anyone or anything, and if Neil had really cheated on him this wouldn’t have been his reaction. Andrew went over what he had seen and heard over and over in his head, and realized... there could be another explanation. The hope that flared in his chest pissed him off so much that he shoved Neil away as hard as he could. Neil just steadied himself and blinked at Andrew. He had noticed Andrew’s thoughts changing direction.

“Drew?”

Andrew glared at him, “Don’t. Don’t fucking call me that right now.”

Andrew’s thoughts were going a mile a minute, trying to discern the truth from what he had assumed. He knew he should just ask Neil, but he didn’t want an audience for that conversation. He looked in Neil’s blue eyes and only saw fear, confusion, hope, and such deep, unending sadness. No guilt. No regret. Had Andrew truly been wrong? Did he break up with Neil for a reason that didn’t exist?

“What is it?” Neil asked.

Andrew just shook his head and walked off the court.

Andrew went to the roof of fox tower. Smoked a cigarette, smoked 3. He called Bee. Told her his predicament. Of course she just said he needed to have an honest conversation with Neil. Andrew rolled his eyes at the thought. It had been a while and he was sure practice was almost over by now but he was tired of waiting. Andrew drove back to the court and waited in the parking lot. When the foxes saw Andrew waiting they all paused. Andrew just looked to Neil and gestured for him to come over. The foxes stayed back, watching, but just out of earshot.

Neil walked up to Andrew, he looked nervous.

“When I came to the dorm Saturday night there was woman’s undergarments thrown of the floor. I heard you with someone in the bedroom. She told you you were sexy and she asked if you had condoms.” Andrew said calmly. Neil blinked. Blinked again. He dropped his bag and racquet on the ground like he was in shock.

“You thought I cheated on you!?” Neil half-shouted.

“Didn’t you?” Andrew asked.

“No! Andrew I would never- I can’t believe-Oh my God.”

Now Neil was making Andrew feel stupid for ever thinking it, and that really pissed him off.

“Explain,” he bit out.

Neil rubbed a hand across his face, disbelief and frustration written all over his face.

“One of the girls in my math class. We were assigned a group project together so she came over a few times to work on it. Her clothes were on the floor because she spilled her coffee all over her on her way in. I let her borrow some of Allison’s leftover clothes while hers got washed,” Neil cringed, “While we were working on the project she said my hair looked long and I needed a haircut. I agreed and she trimmed my hair a little. She called me sexy because I guess she thought it looked good,” Neil’s cheeks flushed and he twisted his hands together, “She knew I was seeing you later that night, thats why she was talking about condoms. I’m sorry Drew.”

Andrew stared at Neil, took all this information in, repeated it in his head. He knew Neil wasn��t lying. Neil’s words were genuine, his expression was genuine. He felt like an idiot. Of course Neil wouldn’t cheat on him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Okay.”

Neil took a step closer to Andrew, looked at him with those big blue eyes.

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

Andrew scoffed and looked away. Neil just took another step towards Andrew and lifted his hand to Andrew’s cheek. Andrew nuzzled his head against Neil’s hand and sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. Andrew’s heart felt so happy, so light. The relief of having Neil back was almost enough to bring him to his knees. His Neil. The light was back brighter than ever before.

Neil stared and stared at Andrew. His Andrew. He understood now. He felt horrible, thinking of the way Andrew must have felt the last few days. He wish he would have known. If he had known Andrew had thought he was cheating, of all things... The thought of Neil ever cheating on Andrew was laughable. Neil would rather die than be with anyone else. All Neil wanted to do now was wrap Andrew in his arms and never let go.

“I thought i’d lost you,” Neil said softly, still caressing Andrew’s cheek.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” Andrew whispered. The confession broke Neil’s heart.

“Yes or no?” Neil said and right when he saw Andrew’s nod he wrapped him in his arms, holding him tightly.

“I love you Drew. You’re all I will ever want. Every day for the rest of my life. I only want you. Always.”

Andrew had his head buried in Neil’s neck, breathing him in, soaking up the words Neil was saying.

“I love you too. And yes junkie we’re back together.”

Neil laughed lightly and pulled back, “Promise me if you ever think I cheated on you again you’ll talk to me about it first before dumping me?”

Andrew snorted but still saw the phantom pain lingering in Neil’s eyes, “I promise. But Neil? Why did you think I broke up with you?”

Neil frowned, “I didn’t know. I thought you just got bored of me like you said you would.”

“I never meant that. I want to be with you forever.”

Neil sighed and his lips quirked up, “That’s good.”

“Yes or no Neil?”

“Yes,” Neil said breathlessly and then they were kissing, slowly, languidly. Andrew pulled Neil closed and wrapped and arm around his waist, the other going to his hair. Neil tangled his hands in Andrew’s hair as they kissed and all the pain of the last few days disappeared.

When they broke apart Neil traced Andrew’s lips with a hand, “I love you Drew. Only you.”

Andrew kissed Neil once on the forehead and flicked his eyes to the foxes. They all looked thoroughly confused. Probably all wondering why Andrew was taking back Neil if he cheated on him. Neil glanced back at the foxes and then looked to Andrew, frowning.

“They all think I cheated on you don’t they?”

“Maybe,” Andrew said, his lips tugging up at the corners.

Neil snorted, “Well that explains why Aaron punched me.”

Andrew’s grin faltered, he examined Neil’s jaw but only saw a small bruise there. Neil’s eyes softened.

“I’m okay. And besides if I had cheated on you I definitely would have deserved it.”

Andrew snorted and gestured for the foxes to come over to them. They all cautiously walked up and waited for Andrew or Neil to speak.

“I didn’t cheat on Andrew. But I appreciate your defending him. If I had cheated on him I would have deserved much worse.”

“Oh thank god. So you two are back together now? Because it was really horrible having you both so unhappy.” Nicky rambled.

“Wait. Andrew you just assumed he cheated and dumped him without even asking him about it?” Kevin asked.

Andrew just shrugged, “Oops.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes at Neil, not fully believing him. Andrew caught his eye and nodded. Reassuring Aaron that he knew what he was doing.

“We’re leaving now. Bye,” Andrew said, taking Neil’s hand and dragging him to the car.

Once they were alone in the Maserati Neil smiled softly at Andrew. Andrew just stared back.

“What is it junkie?”

“I love you,” Neil said, grinning widely.

Andrew rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. He leaned in and kissed Neil softly on the lips, “I love you too.”

#the foxhole court #aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #andriel #all for the game #tfc #trk #tkm #nora sacavic #neil x andrew #andrew x neil #andrew joseph minyard #neil abram josten #neil #andrew #nicky hemmick #kevin day #allison reynolds #matt boyd #dan wilds #coach wymack #palmetto state foxes