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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

Can I request general relationship hcs with kuroo? Thanks!

“you’re all mine, kitten”

pairing: tetsuro kuroo x female reader

cw: fluff, implied NSFW, kissing

word count: 2100+

a/n: kuroo is smol and is a baby who i love, but we all want him to rail us um chile anyways so-

summary: in which you’re in a relationship with kuroo

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

Big dick energy, that’s all I’m saying BIG DICK ENERGY

Not only is this baby packing but he just a cocky science nerd who will send you science jokes and memes every hour of the day

Your whole Instagram dms are just the same meme in different fonts

His hair is soft but just knotty, you spend half an hour unknotting it because you know he would not care

He got other priorities he only lets you do it because he sits between your thighs

Will call you kitten and will have you saved as kitten on his phone

He’ll wait for you after every class to take to your next, he feels bad about you waiting after volleyball practice so this is him making it up to you

You both end up going to Kenma’s at night because you see his light on and make him go to sleep

Kenma hates how it’s become having two parents now

Baby will squish your face in every photo you have together, if his hands aren’t on your face it’ll be on your body

He smacks your ass in public this man has no chill

He’ll make you study with him just to spend more time with each other

Would do that Tiktok with you where he wears a maid outfit and you sit between his thighs, comments be thirsty for our maid boy and you’d simp even more for him

Whenever you make food you have to make extra because he pouts if he doesn’t get any of it

He does the obnoxious laugh where he holds his stomach when you act snarky with his team

He in love with you

Can’t lie will ask to fuck anywhere, will literally text a cute paragraph being like ‘good morning good luck for your test kitten *heart eyes*’ and then 20 minutes later send ‘I found an empty classroom, quickie?’

This man has no chill, but you’ll accept cause its Kuroo

He’d make you be Nekoma’s manager which means you become a parent to the whole team

Couch Nekomata doesn’t mind because you control them all and he loves how you make the team and Kuroo specifically work harder

When he blocks a ball, you know his ass would look straight to you to make sure you watched, you’d always cheer him on though because he’d get sad and do a Bokuto which is what nobody needs

You get made to come to the training camp and he gets way to protective over you because this is the first time you’ve met everybody properly

He’s wary of Karasuno and even Bokuto (even though you and Bokuto were already friends)

He protec, he attac but most importantly he loves your ass

“You’re staying by my side for the whole week, okay?” His arms were wrapped around your waist as his chest was behind your back, you stared up at his neck and jaw, laughing at the comment, “it’s not funny, Y/n, you’re like an exothermic reaction, you spread hotness everywhere”

He had started to pout as you face him, Karasuno’s bus arriving shortly, the rest of the schools had already arrived and when Bokuto had given you a hug from not seeing you in a while, Kuroo was pouting like a lost puppy. He had decided that from then on you would be attached to him and if you weren’t he wouldn’t rest till you were near him or in his eyesight,

“You’re being jealous Tetsu,” you had moved to see his face properly his arms still around your waist, as his hold on you was gently but possessive.

“But they might spend more time with you.” He mutters out.

“Kuro leave Y/n-chan alone.” Kenma spoke as the bus came through the gates.

You smiled shaking your head at Kenma who had looked up from his game, “thank you Kenma”

Kuroo didn’t reply instead holding onto your waist as his body shifted to suit the height difference, as much as you loved Kuroo, his love for you had no bounds and the lack of attention you had been giving him was neither yours fault it was just a perk of being manager.

“Daichi.” You smiled out having met him weeks prior, Kuroo’s hand still around your waist as you both walked towards the team.

“Y/n-chan.” The small orange haired boy shouted as he ran up to you both, “I can’t wait to play, I’ve been practicing, are you going to be watching?”

“I’ll try and watch your games Hinata” You smile as the boy was a ball of energy going to pester Kenma as you see Lev start to make fun of him for his height. “Lev don’t be mean.”

You had scolded Lev a lot but in your heart you knew he would turn out to become an amazing player if he kept up all the work he was doing, “sorry y/n-chan.”

You shock your head laughing as Kuroo had started talking to Daichi and Sugawara, his hand still placed on your waist, “how was the trip?” You asked Sugawara, his gentle features inviting anyone to talk to him.

“It was really long, Couch Ukai doesn’t even let us take breaks.” Sugawara smiled out as everybody had started to move inside.

“That’s old couches for you, Couch Nekomata makes me carry the boy’s sweaty vests from games, the smell and feeling I get makes me want to puke.” Kuroo’s arm had left your waist not realising as you walked inside with Sugawara.

“That sounds gross, I would actually hate that so much, you’re going to have so much fun carrying more vests this week at least.”

“Ha ha very funny.” You laugh as Kuroo and Daichi had stopped talking to each other and Kuroo was trying to spot your y/h/c but to no avail he couldn’t find you.

You and Sugawara had gone your separate ways as he had gone to get ready for the games, not noticing Kuroo had been looking for you, you went back to the gym, where the games were about to begin. “Y/nnnn” You heard the tall grey-haired boy speak.

“Yes Lev.” You said turning around to meet him.

“Yaku hit me in my back.” He said sadly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “did you make fun of his height again?”

Lev stayed silent as he dragged him along to Yaku, “apologise Lev.”

He listens not wanting to be scolded by you, Kuroo had walked in watching as you made the two of them talk again, not wanting anything to ruin the training camp, you went over to tell Kiyoko and Yachi what would happen and where everything was before going up to Bokuto.

“You’ll do good today.” You smile as you knew Akaashi didn’t want to see sad Bokuto at all.

“So, when do I get my praise Kitten.” Kuroo whispered in your ear as you stood to the side.

You rolled your eyes turning to face him, “did I forgot to give my big strong baby some encouragement.”

You teased him as he brought you closer to his body, “yeah you did kitten, you owe me one now.”

“Kuroo get off of Y/n” Couch Nekomata shouted as the games were about to start. You laugh watching as he huffed letting you go.

“You’ll do amazing Tetsu.” You cheered as he went to start the game.

You had had enough time to have many breaks and when you did you were running around passing towels and water bottles to the team rather talus worrying about giving Kuroo attention. You knew he missed it and after the games were done you would give him as much as you could. You had just finished giving the bottles out as you saw Yachi holding a box of water bottles that looked like they were about to fall, you quickly ran towards her catching them just as her hands were about to slip.

“Y/n are you okay?” Yachi said scared at what had occurred, Kuroo had rushed over to see if anything was wrong, even though you were fine.

“I’m fine Tetsu.” You laugh as he looked at your fingers, Yachi taking the box back, he saw the red colouring of your hands,

“Let me kiss it better at least.” You laughed as you let him do what he wanted too, kissing each finger tip before leaving a trail on the reddening mark.

“You’re such a simp Kuroo.”

“Your simp at least.” He laughed as the games began again.

Small intimate moments would always hold a place in your heart, you loved Kuroo’s soft side and even then his normal funny humorous side still made your heart beat as well. He was the love of your life and he proved to you that he was always there for you.

The games had finally finished as every team moved on to do some training or other things, Kuroo making you come with him, Akaashi and Bokuto, well that’s what he wanted to happen.

“Y/n can I ask you something before you go?” You nod at Daichi as you let go of Kuroo’s hands.

“Ill meet you there.” You pecked his cheek before walking in Daichi’s direction, Kuroo’s cat eyes observed what would play out.

Daichi hadn’t really asked for a lot, he wanted to know if you could get a copy of how many games each team had won and lost at the end of the week, “I’d ask Kiyoko but she’s already keeping a watch on points scored and teaching Yachi the ropes.”

“Daichi don’t worry about it, I have to make one for Nekoma anyway and I was going to offer it to all the teams, so I’ll gladly give you it at the end of the day.” You smile as you laugh at how Daichi had needed to ask to gain such a trivial thing.

“Oh also, thank you for saving Yachi and our water bottles.” He smiles out.

You pat his shoulder laughing again, “don’t worry about it, couldn’t get your new manager hurt now could I.”

He laughs a yeah as you both go your separate ways, as you walk out of the first gym towards were Kuroo and the rest of them would be, you felt someone grab your wrist as they pulled you to hit the wall outside the gym.

“Kitten it seemed you and our rival were getting close.” Kuroo whispered in your ear, you could recognise his voice anywhere, one hand on the wall as the other came up to touch your face, slowly caressing it.

“He just wanted to thank me for saving Yachi.” Your breath becoming heavier, you hated to admit it but you loved this side of Kuroo, it made you feel alive and needed as if Kuroo loved every fibre of you enough to care about as much as he did.

Kuroo moved his head closer not wasting to reply, his lips fell onto yours, having to bend down to reach your height, your hands grabbed his collar, as ur hand rested on his collar and the other in his dishevelled hair. He smirked knowing how needy you were for him, how much you wanted his body pressed against you, his body pushing you onto the wall. His hand moved from your face to your waist making sure to bring your body closer to him.

The kiss deepened as his tongue moved inside of your own, you wanted to feel more of him but knew you had to wait till the week was over, you knew he’d try to ask throughout for quickies anywhere that had a lock but you wanted to be able to moan his name out loud and clear without having to be quiet.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his rough hand held onto your waist tighter to bring you even closer to his body, his touch sending electric shocks through your body at how hungry and satisfying the kiss was.

“Oi Kuroo you better not be groping Y/n, we have to practice.” Bokuto was shouting as he started to walk outside.

Kuroo finally let go, as the saliva and spit broke free from each other’s mouths, he smirked wiping his mouth before bringing his thumb and wiping your own, “you’re so needy kitten, do you want more?”

You pout knowing he was teasing you as you nod your head, “now remember,” he paused as he admired your dishevelled look, “you’re all mine, kitten.”

You nodded as you did want more but saw the tips of owl boy come closer and closer, “we’ll finish this later.” Is all Kuroo said as he took your hand dragging it towards the confused Bokuto.

You knew that you weren’t going to last the week without Kuroo on you or more specifically in you, but you’d be patient or even yet maybe you would let him have a quickie in a classroom somewhere.

If you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and I’ll add you xx

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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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tonio-dawson · 4 years

Text

No Judgement (2/2)

Part 1 here.

A/N: Not a usual storyline. Sorry if you guys don’t like this!

Summary: Y/N works as a lawyer and having a relationship with Antonio could get you into trouble.

=====================

Opposite attracts, they said. So, despite your differences, you two ended up dating anyway. It’s a long road, but after six months of going on casual dates, you both decided to be in a committed relationship.

The relationship does not win the popularity votes. It was shocking to everyone. None of your friends saw it coming. Colleagues, from both sides, are totally against it - they think that you and him are playing for “the other side”.

But you don’t care. Somehow, it works. Even with non-stop debates and arguments, you make it work. The great thing about those arguments - it never affects your relationship at all. You both can be tough critics to each other, but it doesn’t stop you to admire each other too. You know that he’s great at what he does: catching criminals and protecting the city, albeit the team’s debatable methods. Antonio admires how you always stand up for the innocents, to seek justice on a broken system.

He also knows that you’re very selective on who you represent. Most of your clients are corporations, fighting over trademarks and intellectual rights dispute. But you also take smaller cases, usually involving youth around the neighbourhood. Those who got in trouble over small things and don’t have anyone to look out for them. You make sure they get fair trials.

So, when you told Antonio who you’re going to meet this afternoon, he is very surprised.

“Louis Garrison?! I thought you’re not taking cases involving gang members? Don’t tell me you represent him.” he raises his voice.

“I don’t. I am merely consulting on the case. Harry, my best friend, his firm is representing him. They want Louis to make a deal with the DA testifying against his boss but he’s getting cold feet. As I’m more familiar with how the DA deal works, I need to convince him.” you explain.

“And let me guess, he’s gonna walk?” Antonio asks, rather cynically.

“Why are you so cynical? It’s my job to ensure that the DA holds their part of the bargain. Unlike some half-ass promise you guys always give out at the precinct.” you snap back, “And he is NOT gonna walk, I never believe in the full immunity crap, you know that.” usually your boyfriend gives you a hard time by saying ill things about the police, but not this time.

“I know I said ‘no judgement’ when it comes to our cases. But babe, the South Side Gang are murderers. So I do get to judge over your safety.” Antonio replies, full of worry this time.

“Yeah I know, among other things. Louis is getting charged on distribution though, the DA could charge him with narcotic-induced homicide. So, we want to stop the distribution altogether by going after the big guy.” you reply.

“But you know it’s dangerous, right? That his gang is capable of murder?” Now Antonio put this ever-so-worried look that you never saw before.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. The gang maybe is, but not Louis. I’m meeting him at a restaurant and there will be plenty of security.” you hold his hand. He takes it and place a kiss, “I am just saying, be careful.” his raspy voice gets you to a very safe place every time, you pull him into a hug.

The meeting with Louis runs rather smoothly. Louis has a bad experience with his cousin making a deal with the police that doesn’t stick, hence his hesitation. But you convinced him that the DA is different than the police, that lawyers do everything with paper trails so there’s no way around it. The meeting is almost over when you see Antonio comes through the restaurant door, approaching your table, looking rather upset.

You can sense trouble is coming but don’t know what it will be, so you are staying calm. “Louis, remember that I’m on your side. Here’s my card and if you have any question-” before you can finish your sentence, Antonio interrupts. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” Antonio smiles and kiss your cheek and conveniently flash his badge on his belt when ducking down.

Louis looks very confused. “Wait, you say there’s no police?” He stands up and walks right away. “Y/N say sorry to Harry. I’ll take the full sentence.” he leaves in a hurry.

“No- Louis, this is not what it looks like, there’s no police at all!” you rushes off to follow him. But Antonio grabs your arm and stops you. Louis quickly disappears.

“Antonio, what the hell?!” you walk out from the restaurant and let Antonio follows you, you don’t want to make a scene inside the restaurant.

So in Chicago chilly winter, you are at it with Antonio, “Babe, listen to me-” he starts to explain himself.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” you scream, furious.

“We just got a lead that Louis is a suspect for a murder in Pulaski last night. He’s a murderer and I can’t let you anywhere near him.” He quickly explains hoping that you’d understand.

But instead, you’re fuming, “Oh, God. This is why I hate the police so much. How many times do I have to tell you, it’s innocent until proven guilty, Tonio?! Right here, right now, I can disprove your ‘lead’.” You take a breath and yell at him, “Harry was up ALL NIGHT with Louis, trying to convince him to show up to this meeting that you just blew up!” You’ve had many arguments with him, but you’ve never been this angry before.

Antonio looks confused, as the lead puts a car registered under his name in the murder location.

“But the his car was used to-” he tries again.

“Well he does not drive his car, does he? His driving license got suspended last year, so he’s been renting out his car. You didn’t do your homework, detective?!” you scream so loud your voice is cracking.

The fact is, Antonio runs out so quickly the minute Louis’ name pop up during the investigation. Kim has taken down him as a suspect list when pod camera reveals the people inside the car. No Louis, of course. Antonio was so worried over you, did not even check his phone before entering the restaurant.

“Don’t fuck me up with this.” you shake your head, “You know why I care so much about this case? It’s because the narcotics have been flooding the streets. Lots of kids went to ED because of it. So I want the entire distribution to stop. With the way I know best.” your eyes filled with tears but you try to hold it. It’s anger, disappointment, and sadness, mix into one.

You spent a good time of your life in an orphanage, Antonio knows this. And this is what drives you to help out teenagers and kids who got in trouble because they just did not know any better. Antonio drops his head, knowing how big of a mess he just created.

“Babe, I’m so sorry, I’ll fix this.” Antonio pleads.

“No. I will fix this. You’ve done enough. And if I find out that you are anywhere near Louis, we are DONE. I mean it. And you know how much I hate threats, but there you go, Detective Dawson.” you walk, leaving Antonio.

Antonio knows he’s in trouble when you call him Dawson. But Detective Dawson? It’s the first time he’s hearing this, it means double the trouble. And he does not know what to do this time.

You have not been returning any of Antonio’s call for a week and you haven’t speak a single word to him. The only text you sent was, “Is Leo really your CI?” which you got a ‘yes’ reply along with three paragraphs of apology and questions when can he see you again.

By now, the problem has actually been fixed. Not long after the incident, you came clean to Louis about having a relationship with a detective, but assured him that you never talk about cases as you maintain your professionalism, besides it’s also against the law. Harry found out that Antonio once helped out Leo, who is Louis’ cousin, from getting jammed up by patrol officers. Because of that fact, Louis trusts you and Harry again. He has decided to work on the deal with the DA.

But you’re still angry with Antonio. For fucking things up. For not trusting Louis. For not trusting you and Harry.

You haven’t been yourself lately, so Harry comes by to your place to check on you. “Hey, how are you doing?” he asks, you just shrugs your shoulder and give him a small smile. After a long pause, he continues, “You know, it’s Antonio who gave me information about Leo.”

“I know.”

“You know that he’s been contacting me three times a day now, asking when he can meet you.” he continues.

“I know. You don’t have to answer him.” you say.

“No, the thing is, I want to answer him. I want to tell him that you’re over it. Hell, we are over it, Y/N. Louis is gonna be okay and you know that. So I want to tell him that you both are okay and things can go back the way they were.”

“Uh-huh. What do you want?” you know when Harry beats around the bushes, he basically wants something from you.

“Antonio’s downstairs. Said that he wants to drive you somewhere. With me too. At least let him try?” he asks, “Yeah sure, whatever.” you sigh.

You see Antonio for the first time in a week now, you just realized how much you miss his face. But you still give him the cold shoulder, “I’ll take the back seat.”

The road becomes familiar after 20 minutes of driving. And you know where you are now. It’s the orphanage home that you spent time growing up. You still visit the place once a year.

“Look, this is not me trying to win you back. But I just want you to show you something.” says Antonio before getting out of the car.

You are greeted by Mrs. Hudson who immediately hugs you, “What a lovely surprise, Y/N! Christmas comes early, I guess?” she smiles and looks at Antonio, “And Detective Dawson, to what do I owe the pleasure?” your eyes look at her and Antonio, confused.

“Nothing, Mrs. Hudson. I know it’s Friday night and you have movie night with the children, right? So I bring extra snacks and sodas if you let us three join you?” he asks. “Of course! You’re always welcome whenever.” says Mrs. Hudson.

“How did you know..?” you’re still confused, Antonio and Harry quickly disappear to move the snacks and drinks from the car. “Detective Dawson helped us to rebuild the basement here, you know the fire from 8 months ago? His sister and the house were the one responded to the call.”

You remember there’s a small fire there but you were told the damage isn’t big and no one is injured, so you did not visit them right away and only sent some donations to Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson leads you to the common room, with all the curtains closed and a bed sheet used as a big screen, it looks like a mini cinema. They throw all the cushions on the carpeted floor and all the children sit down. Harry loves children so he blends right in with them, cracking jokes and playing with them.

While you sit at one corner and Antonio joins you.

“How come you never told me about this? You know I grew up in this place.”

“I don’t know. I never knew how to bring it up.” he scratch the back of his head, “And these are the kids you’re trying to protect, right? I want to show you how you’ve been cleaning up the street, your way. We got a call from the DA, they warrant all of our surveillance and wire tap request on Louis’ boss. It’s just a matter of time and he’ll be behind bars. And these kids, well, hopefully they will grow up without drugs on the street. So, we celebrate with them tonight.” he raises his eyebrows, slightly anxious, looking for your approval.

What Antonio doesn’t know is that Mrs. Hudson has explained how Gabby and him have helped her the past few months. Keeping the kids busy and away from drugs - whether it’s movie night, or boxing class, or cooking, or art. “Detective Dawson and the fire house have been volunteering their time here, doing all sorts of things,” said Mrs. Hudson earlier, “And Harry told me that he is your boyfriend? You better keep him, hon.” she grins before walking away.

The kids are enjoying the snacks and giggling with Harry, you smile at the scene. You look at your boyfriend, you haven’t spoken a single word but your eyes have gotten soft on him.

He takes your hand, “Part of my job is to judge people all the time. During interrogations, takedown, and even when questioning a witness. I’m sorry for judging Louis just by looking at his rep sheet. I’m sorry for not trusting you with your job. I should’ve not interfere, I should have known better of you, and Harry.” he says softly.

“You know that you said that this isn’t about winning me back? I think it actually is.” you smile at him.

“It’s for the kids. But I don’t care, I’ll take the win either way.” he hugs you and you hug him even tighter, you’ve missed his scent and his warm body, “Yeah right, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more. Please don’t be this angry again. I almost died this week not hearing from you.”

“Don’t be so stupid next time.”

“I’ll learn from this. I promise.” he kisses the top of your head.

You spend the rest of the night at his embrace, his arm wraps around you the whole time, he doesn’t let go until your body gets sore. He doesn’t know how to express how sorry he is, so from this day on he’s going to make you feel that he’s got your back, no matter how different you are in your two worlds.

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #antonio dawson x reader

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captainaudreyjensen · 4 years

Text

new beginnings

Prompt: hi! idk if you take requests still, but can you do an imagine with audrey where y/n, audrey and noah have a horror night together and noah mistakenly puts on a movie where an animal dies ( maybe either hereditary or the conjuring ), even though y/n draws the line at horror films with animal deaths? then it really shakes y/n up a lot and audrey ends up comforting her.

This was a really cool request because I also hate when animals die in horror movies

Words: 1951

Warnings: swearing and mention of a animal death I do state before the paragraph that it happens. The film is the babadook, so spoiler warnings and also its a dog.

Following the murders, it had become something of a tradition with Audrey and Noah to hold a movie night every Friday. Once a month they’d invite the rest of the Lakewood Five, every now and again Stavo would join and occasionally they’d invite whoever they’d happened to be seeing at the time.

You were relatively new to town and you’d fallen in with Noah pretty quickly as you were smart and funny. You also happened to be openly *your sexual orientation* and taking the same classes as him. From the start he’d pegged you as a good match for Audrey as you had the same style, sense of humour and, well, Lakewood was a small town, the pickings were slim.

Noah had waited a few weeks for you to settle in before he brought up the idea, but recently he’d become more insistent. Today had been no exception, he’d caught you as you left the last class of the day and done some insisting.

“You’re perfect for her, Y/N. You’re so sweet, you’re smart and funny,” he’d laughed “and you have no random ties to Lakewood from a past life that might come back to haunt us,” a cautious pause, “that we know of.”

Honestly you quite liked the idea. Audrey had always been nice to you, she was funny, and so hot; but you didn't want to push it or force anything on her that she wasn’t super into. Because of this, you’d resisted getting to know her too well. You were also immensely aware of the fate of her exs. Audrey had been devastated by Rachel’s death, and though she had dated a couple of other girls, none of them had seemed to work out. It was no secret that all of the girls of the Lakewood Six had struggled with their relationships after the Kieran revelation.

“I really don’t know, Noah,” you’d replied, “is this something you’ve even discussed with Audrey?”

“Uh, well,” he’d laughed, flustered, “not exactly.”

“Okay then,” you smiled, but you felt a little hurt, “bye Noah.” Why had he been so persistent if Audrey didn’t even know it was a conversation he was having?

“Y/N, please,” he grabbed your arm, “hear me out.”

And you did. He explained that Audrey had told him (on separate occasions) that she felt she was ready for something new, and -in passing- that she thought you were cute. “I know she’s ready, I just don’t want to push too hard too soon,” he’d told you.

You nodded, still unsure, the last thing you wanted was to be something Audrey would regret.

“So, I was thinking,” Noah was ecstatic, like he’d just had the greatest epiphany of all time, “you should come to movie night tonight.”

“Isn’t it an invite only, private movie night, just for you guys?” “Well, kinda. But it’s also a way for you guys to hang out outside of school, no pressure.”

“And the group won’t feel weird that I’m there?” “It’s just Audrey and I tonight,” he couldn’t have been more proud of himself, “and you, of course.”

You’d attempted to tell Noah that you weren’t sure, especially because you weren’t 100% clear on anything other than the ‘movie night’ part, but before you could say anything else Noah was out the door, yelling “see you there, text you the details” as he ran.

You aren’t even sure whose house you’re arriving at as you pull into the driveway. Your watch reads 8:45; you’re early, but only just. You grab the snacks from your passengers seat -if you were going to come you were going to come prepared- and head for the door. You only have to wait a few seconds after ringing the bell before the door opens and you’re greeted by Audrey.

“Oh, Y/N,” Audrey exclaimes, dressed in a black tank top and plaid PJ pants. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Of course Noah didn’t tell her.

“Noah invited me,” you blurt, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you sound.

“Cool,” Audrey nods, “you’re early, though. Like, super early.”

“Noah said nine?”

“It’s usually nine thirty,” Audrey nods.

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burning. “I brought snacks,” your arm flies up, and the snacks fling around in the bag.

“Reusable,” she smiles, “that’s cool,” Audrey says as she steps out of the way, gesturing for you to come in.

“Yeah,” you smile, “save the environment and all.”

“Sure.”

It’s so awkward you could kill Noah.

Audrey leads you into the kitchen and stops on one side of the counter, “can I get you a drink?”

“Uh, sure,” you say, looking around, “your house is so quiet.”

“Yeah, my dads out for the weekend,” she pauses and smiles, “business and all,” she mocks your awkward remark from earlier.

You laugh, starting to unpack the bag as she pours you a drink.

“Wow, you really brought everything,” Audrey laughs, impressed.

“Oh yeah,” you remark, “I come prepared.”

“These are my favourite!” Audrey exclaimes, picking up a packet of sweets.

“Mine too,” you laugh, “I brought ‘em in every flavour.”

“Nice.”

Audrey pulls out bowls, and you start filling them with all your supplies. Time seems to pass at an exceptional speed, because before you know it, Noah’s knocking at the door.

“He’s late,” Audrey states matter-of-factly, before grabbing and opening another packet of chips.

“So you’re not letting him in?” you laugh. “Not immediately,” she smiles, shrugging, “he made us wait.”

You spend a couple more minutes in the kitchen filling bowls and chatting, and almost forget about Noah altogether.

Noah, however, refuses to be forgotten; knocking incessantly until the door opens.

“Took you long enough!” He exclaims, pushing past Audrey. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“You’re late,” Audrey states, crosses her arms; she looks so cute when she’s pretending to be mad.

“But I brought snacks,” Noah smiles, holding up a bag of popcorn and a chocolate bar.

You gesture to the table you and Audrey have spent the past almost hour filling with chocolate, sweets, chips and popcorn -among other things.

“Woah, where’d all this come from.”

Audrey smiles at you, and you state, “I like to come prepared.”

“Well then,” Noah winks at you, “let's get this party started.”

Audrey turns to you, “it’s Noah’s turn to pick films this week, so they’re probably going to be some outdated indie films with a very disjointed plot.”

“Classics, Audrey, not outdated. And by the way, they’re classics for a reason,” Noah smiles, “but no, actually this week I was thinking: new cult classics.” “How can they be cult classics if they’re new,” you smirk.

“They just are,” Noah huffs, falling onto an armchair.

You nod, taking a seat on the couch. Audrey sits next to you, almost a bit close.

“So what are we watching, then?”

“We’re starting with the Babadook, then It Follows and finally Cabin in the Woods.”

“Cool,” you nod, you haven’t seen any of them but you’re open to it.

“Shall we begin?” Noah asks, grabbing the remote. You and Audrey nod as he types, Babadook into the menu.

Audrey gets up to turn out the lights, you grab a bowl of popcorn and watch as the film starts. Audrey sits back down and shuffles closer to you, placing her hand in the bowl; your stomach settles, maybe this won’t be so bad.

The first half of the film wasn’t for you but as it progressed Audrey had moved incrementally closer, and as the film reached its climax she was almost in your lap. You had pretty much stopped focusing on the film altogether, and you were fine with that, Audrey smelt like sandalwood and vanilla. You’d been watching what was happening on screen but -with almost no context- it made little sense.

*animal death mentioned*

You were up to a part where the Babadook has possessed Amelia, and just as you were starting to get back into the film, it happened. Amelia breaks the neck of the poor little dog.

*mention over*

You jump at the sight of it, immediately feeling ill. Tears well in your eyes, and you begin to struggle to breathe.

Audrey turns to you, concerned.

“Are you okay, Y/N.”

Tears stream down your face, and you choke out a, “yeah.”

Audrey isn’t convinced, “Noah, turn it off,” she says, growing concerned.

“But this is the good bit,” Noah wines, “she’s just about to-”

“Fucks sake, Noah, turn it off!” Audrey yells. She pulls you closer to her.

This time Noah compiles, jumping for the remote. You’re still in shock.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, “it’s fine,” you repeat with mascara stained cheeks.

You try your hardest to hold it in. It's just a movie, you tell yourself. But you can’t control yourself as you start to sob. You feel yourself curl up, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

“Y/N,” Noah realises what’s going on, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Now you’re the one almost in Audrey’s lap. You feel her hand on your back where your shirt has started to lift; it's warm on your bare skin, slowly moving to soothe you. Her other hand sits on the back of your neck, fingers at the start of your scalp.

You forget what it was that you were crying about. All you can think about is how good you feel being held by Audrey. So comfortable; so safe.

You’re reminded of how good Audrey smells; the sandalwood and vanilla from before are mixed with the butter and salt of the popcorn, as well as the sweet raspberry and grape of your favourite sweets. She smells delicious, and you become overwhelmed by your urge to kiss her.

You don’t remember when you stopped crying but suddenly you have. Everything is still. You lift your head from Audrey’s shoulder, staring up at her.

“You okay?” she asks.

You nod, realising Noah is no longer in the room.

Your back feels cold as her other hand moves up to your neck. Audrey wipes away a streak of your mascara, resting her thumb on your cheek. She now cradles your face in her hands, her eyes darting between your lips, tear stained cheeks and your eyes.

She hasn’t moved to kiss you but she hasn’t moved away, so you inch forward. Audrey closes the gap, leaning her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, brushing your lips against hers. They’re soft. Her scent is so strong now, you feel like you could get drunk on it.

Smiling, you pull back; Audrey lingers. Her eyes open and she smiles at you. You laugh, unsure of what to say.

Audrey pulls you back in, kissing you again but harder. Her left hand finds its way to your waist. Your right hand moves up, resting on her cheek.

You hear Noah re enter the room, but you aren’t sure of what he said. You and Audrey pull apart, and she gives you a peck, before turning to look up at Noah.

“What up, mood killer?” she questions.

“I was just going to ask if you guys wanted to watch a different movie maybe? But I can leave again,” Noah heads back in the direction of the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” you and Audrey say in unison, laughing at the coincidence.

“We can watch another one,” Audrey says, before turning her attention back to you, “do you want to stay tonight?”

You simply nod.

Noah smiles at the two of you together and nods before saying, “how about just Scream?”

“A classic,” you laugh, “sure.”

Noah sets up the film. You and Audrey shuffle around on the couch intertwined, trying to get comfortable.

#scream #audrey jensen imagines #imagines #audrey jensen #audrey jensen scream #noah foster #mtvscream

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alright--okay · 4 years

Text

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 4

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.7 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 4 Go Home. Play Music. Feel Better. - Michael Cera Palin

“Ohoho, look who decided to show up,” you said to Tsukishima as he moved to sit beside you in the lecture hall.

Tsukishima gave you an exasperated look, “class didn’t even start yet. Also please don’t take on those idiots’ mannerisms.”

“Why not? I think it’s fun. And completely unrelated, but want to come to the store with me after class? Bokuto recommended me this hair gel and I’ve always wanted to try-”

“Please stop,” Tsukishima turned to face the front of the class as you broke out into quiet giggles.

“Seriously though, I didn’t get to eat breakfast this morning so I’m gonna get something at that cafe near our apartments if you want to join.”

This wasn’t a date. Tsukishima knew this. That didn’t stop his heart from beating a tad bit faster or the apples of his cheeks growing rosier.

Tsukishima shifted his arm to one of the uncomfortable arm rests of the seat, leaning his head against his hand to hopefully help cover any of the heat on his cheeks, “yeah, I’m down.”

“Cool,” from the corner of his eye, Tsukishima saw you give your own small smile as you turned to focus on the professor about to start the lecture.

This wasn’t a date.

~~~~~~

Class dragged on, but soon enough you and Tsukishima were making the short journey to the cafe.

“Did you finish the paper for that class?” Tsukishima asked.

“What paper?”

“The one he assigned last week? Due on Wednesday? The one on that civilization-”

“Wait, no, no, no. That paper’s due on the 18th.”

“y/n…” Tsukshima slowed his pace to look you in your eyes, “Wednesday is the 18th.”

You let a quiet “fuck” slip from your mouth as you faced forward, moving quickly to the cafe now only a few shops away, “then no, I haven’t even started it.”

“Yeah that seemed pretty obvious,” Tsukishima said with a smirk.

“He never mentioned it again! I can’t keep track of everything!”

“Yeah, not even the date apparently,” Tsukishima snickered, opening the door for the two of you.

“Alright, listen!” Tsukishima’s laugh only grew louder, “I thought this class was gonna be fun and easy, and now I have to write a paper in like two days. Disgusting,” your attentioned moved to the menu hanging above the register.

“It’s short, you’re being dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima let out a startled laugh while you moved forward to give your order and pay then stood off to the side waiting for Tsukishima to do the same.

Tsukishima silently pointed to a table off in the corner that was free, “what is your major anyway?” he said as the two of you settled down into the seats.

You told him your major with a small shrug, “Nothing too special, but I liked it in high school so I figured I’d just keep up with it. Are you actually archeology or are you also just in this class for the hell of it?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m an archeology major, but this class doesn’t count for much since it's pretty entry level.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re good at this stuff?”

“I’m not writing your paper.” “I wouldn’t ask that!” you said with a frown, “I was wondering if you could at least help me though. Read it over, give me some advice, make sure it’ll give me a decent grade, stuff like that. Come on, I’ll make you cookies.”

Tsukishima paused for a moment, “What about a strawberry shortcake?”

“I mean I’ll have to go to the store…” Tsukishima continued to stare at you, “but fine! Yes, I’ll make you a strawberry shortcake, you bastard.” You mumbled the last part under your breath as you got up to get yours and Tsukishima’s orders.

Making a cake would be a small price to pay for a good grade in a class you honestly didn’t care about. Spending time with Tsukishima didn’t hurt either.

“Get as much of it done as you can tonight, I’m done with class pretty early tomorrow so we can work on it together at my place whenever you’re free,” Tsukishima gave you the short rundown as you place the food on the table.

“Why don’t we do it at my place? You have like three roommates. I have Yachi.”

“Good point, text me tomorrow when you’re good,” Tsukishima said with a small nod.

~~~

It was a little past one on tuesday when you decided to text Tsukishima.

To Tsukishima archeology:

hey im walking home now so feel free to come over whenever

From Tsukishima archeology:

alright ill be there soon

You slid your phone back into your pocket, trying to turn your focus on the music flowing through your headphones and not on the lanky blonde that would be spending the rest of the day in your apartment.

You saw Tsukishima at least three times a week and most of that time was spent alone with each other in class or recitation, but this was… different. You were going to be actually alone with the guy. No distractions from a professor or a friend or a cafe worker calling out names. And okay Tsukishima was mildly attractive… Okay he was attractive but you wouldn’t let that come between you and the new friend you made in the snarky asshole.

It's not like anything would happen anyway. Tsukishima definitely didn’t like you like that, and no amount of daydreaming him confessing to you would make it come true (even if it was a very nice daydream).

It wasn’t long before you made it up to your apartment. Yachi had a late class today so you weren’t expecting her back until tonight, hopefully after Tsukishima had already left. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Yachi to know… but Yachi had already been making assumptions and Tsukishima coming over to “do work” alone in your room would do nothing but feed her imagination (even if it was the truth).

In the middle of eating a quick snack, Tsukishima sent you a text saying he was at your building.

You scrambled down the staircase of your building to meet Tsukishima who was waiting (somewhat) patiently on the stoop of your building.

“Finally,” he muttered as you widened the door for him to pass.

“You gave me no warning! Should’ve left you out here longer.”

“Should I just leave then? Seems like you don’t want me here so I’ll just-”

You put your hands on Tsukishima’s back, pushing him further into the building, “Nope, you’re helping me. You already agreed, no backing out.”

Tsukishima let out a dramatic sigh, now trailing behind you, “Did you at least start it?”

“Yes, in fact, I did. Almost done too, just need one more paragraph to push me over the word minimum.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I thought I was just gonna read it over?” Tsukishima asked as you let him into your and Yachi’s apartment, leading him to your small kitchen table.

“I dunno, dude; do other homework, work on your own paper, pick an album to listen to,” you gestured lazily towards your bedroom door, “all my vinyl is in the crates to the right.”

You could tell Tsukishima tried very hard to hide his excitement, “well, I already submitted my paper,” he ‘casually’ slid his backpack off his shoulders and made his way to the door you just pointed out.

You followed him over, showing him the milk crates you were talking about, your record player sitting on the dresser nearby.

“If you're gonna be sitting here, I’ll work at my desk,” you gathered your laptop and the notebook you had used to organize your paper, settling at the small desk, “if you need any help let me know.”

Tsukishima gave you a small smile and proceeded to get down on the floor to sit cross legged, flipping through the crate closest to him.

The two of you continued in silence for a while until Tsukishima gave a light poke to your shoulder, a recognizable album in his hand.

“I’ve never actually used a record player, so can you…” he trailed off, pushing the album towards you.

You tried to contain your amusement. Tsukishima clearly did not want to be asking you this, but you were glad he took this route instead of trying it and scratching up your records.

“Yeah sure, good pick by the way,” you got up from your desk chair and took the album, sliding the sleeve out to get to the vinyl itself, this one in particular being a bright blue as opposed to the typical black.

You ran him through how to handle the records and how to work your particular player so he would be able to flip and change the records whenever, and soon enough the beginning of Just Friends’ album Nothing but Love began to play.

You smiled again, making your way back to your desk to finish up your paper while Tsukishima went back to sitting on your floor, alternating between listening to the music and playing on his phone.

By the time the album came to an end you placed your laptop in Tsukishima’s lap, “be gentle,” you said, moving to grab an album at random and replace the one coming to an end.

“I’m not gonna promise anything,” he replied, adjusting his glasses to begin reading your paper.

You wandered off to the kitchen for a glass of water, not wanting to be in the room while Tsukishima was judging your writing.

“It’s not that bad!” Tsukishima called from your room, you walked over to lean in the door frame, “I marked some stuff you should reword and you should probably include that thing he mentioned a while ago…” Tsukishima continued to talk about your paper, flipping through notes to bring up examples and point out which parts he found errors in.

“But not bad?” you questioned again with a small smile, taking your laptop back.

“Not great, but not bad,” he said getting up to get his own stuff from the kitchen.

“I’ll take it!” you took it as a win when you heard Tsukishima’s laughter from the other room.

~~~

It was well into the evening by now, Tsukishima had helped fully finalize your paper a while ago but the two of you continued to talk and do work in your room. At this point you knew Yachi was going to be here soon. You would have to kick Tsukishima out now if you didn’t want her to notice just how long the boy had spent here and that just seemed rude and unnecessary (plus you didn’t really want Tsukishima to go just yet).

“Did you want to just stay for dinner? Yachi said she's picking something up, so if you want anything speak now.”

Tsukishima paused shortly at your question, “where’s she stopping?”

You relayed your and Tsukishima’s order to Yachi hoping she’d get home soon so you could have a proper meal.

You and Tsukishima were back to the floor, sifting through albums and talking over the music in the background.

“I wish you had A Flourish and a Spoil,” Tsukishima said, examining the art of one particular album.

“By The Districts?” Tsukishima’s eyes darted over to you, making you laugh, “I have that one, just probably got misplaced if it’s not with the D’s,” you took a minute to think back to the last time you had listened to the album, trying to place where it currently was.

You hauled yourself up and went to your dresser. Beside your record player was a short stack of albums you had been listening to the other day but were too lazy at the time to properly put away. Sure enough, the dark album art peaked from the pile.

You took the whole stack over to your crates, passing the album to Tsukishima’s waiting hands.

“We’re listening to this next,” Tsukishima said, eyes roaming the back of the album, examining all the details.

“We can definitely do that,” you replied, sorting the albums, “but Yachi’s gonna be here soon so you good with waiting a little bit?”

He gave you a small nod and the two of you resumed your quiet activities with the current record coming to an end. It wasn’t long after you heard the apartment’s door open with Yachi making her presence known.

The three of you sat around the small kitchen table, eating your food and talking about your days. You tried to ignore all of Yachi’s “subtle” looks in favor of asking about the class she just got out of.

“I hate that it lets out so late!” Yachi complained, dropping her head to the table, “I’m so tired and the walk home gets scary in the dark.”

“You can always ask me or Yamaguchi to walk with you,” Tsukishima said, looking up from his food, “if you’re really anxious we really wouldn’t mind, it’s a short walk.”

“Tsukki!” Yachi let out a cry, tears gathering in her eyes, “don’t listen to them, you’re so sweet, I love you.”

“Wait, listen to who-” Yachi interrupted his questions by giving his stiff posture a hug, “what are people saying about me?”

Yachi continued her hug, Tsukishima slowly raising a hand to pat her back, “nothing, nothing, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

You laughed at Tsukishima’s confused and irked expression, clearly not knowing how to interpret Yachi’s words.

Yachi removed herself from Tsukishima, “well, I am exhausted, goodnight,” Yachi said, giving you both a smile.

“Goodnight, Yachi, see you tomorrow,” you said, Tsukishima giving his own goodnight before turning to look you in the eye.

“It’s time,” he said, quickly cleaning up your plates and then heading to your room.

You laughed as you trailed behind him. He was already setting up the vinyl so you settled on your bed, letting your back fall into the comforter sitting atop your mattress.

The opening beats of the first song gently filled your room, quiet enough to not disturb Yachi but loud enough that the thumping drums still hit in your chest. Tsukishima turned around and you patted the spot beside you. He seemed to hesitate for a second before making his way over, letting his body lay beside your own.

“I used to listen to this album all the time in high school,” Tsukishima said to the ceiling. You turned your head to look at his side profile, “I think at the time it was just cause I liked how it sounded,” he paused for a particular chorus to pass, “but now I actually listen to it.”

You turned your head back to the ceiling, “I get that. A lot of albums have changed meaning for me over the years. This always felt like a new beginning though.”

Tsukishima hummed beside you. You let the music fill the room, you and Tsukishima each focusing on the lyrics of each song and how one connected to another.

Side A came to its gentle end, so you got up to slowly flip it, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere your room held at the moment. You took your spot beside Tsukishima again, trying not to disturb him.

“God, this album slaps,” Tsukishima mumbled under his breath at the crescendo of the song, making you break out into a laugh. Tsukishima surprisingly let out a chuckle of his own, “what? You know it's true.”

“I know, I know,” you let your giggles peter out, “I feel like you have to save that for Young Blood though.”

“It can be applied in a variety of places, don’t go around constricting me.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled at him, scooting your legs further on the bed to get more comfortable.

Young Blood, as good of a song as it was, was eight minutes long and by the final words of it, you could feel yourself drifting. It started with just resting your eyes, but soon your body was trying to catch up on the lack of sleep.

As your mind was shutting down, you heard a soft snore beside you. I’ll deal with this tomorrow, you thought to yourself before succumbing to the warmth of your room and the body beside you, letting the final song of the album lull you to sleep.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader

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zigtheeortega · 4 years

Text

“’cause we're collectin' moments; tattoos on my mind”

pairing: raleigh x mc

@choicesmarchchallenge

word count: 2,071

song inspiration: sometimes - ariana grande

tag list: @violinet ; @bloodxbound ; @dadrianraines ; @mentallych-ill-desi ; @adrixnrxines ; @roguemal

author’s note: the lyric (that’s the title) from sometimes inspired this fic! i love raleigh sm. also sorry for the double post it just lined up that way lmfao. also sorry if this is an unpopular opinion, but i dont care for the platinum mc so i decided to make her more of what i thought raleigh’s type of girl would be (lmao). anyways, hope u enjoy!!!

She tripped over a large crack in the sidewalk, almost wiping out completely, but Raleigh’s strong grip managed to keep her going.

“C’mon, Dom, they’re gaining on us!” he laughed, whisking her through the street, cutting through an alleyway.

He stopped abruptly and pulled her close, a mischievous grin on his face. He held a finger to her mouth, and cocked his head in the direction of the street.

The paparazzi sprinted by, not even glancing in the direction of the dimly lit alley. The shuffling of their feet faded into distant patters.

Raleigh tiptoed to the opening of the alley and peeked his head around the damp brick wall, before jogging back to the shadows, the smile from before still lingering on his lips. “Coast is clear.”

“So what now, genius?”

He chuckled, hugging her close with one arm draped lazily around her shoulder. She could smell the cheap tequila on his breath, a reminder of their rendezvous at the sketchy bar.

She leaned into his touch, the buzz not quite wearing off yet. The alcohol weighed her head down, and before she knew it, she rested it on his shoulder.

“Well, I haven’t done anything truly reckless in a while. Gotta keep the bad boy image up,” he said, sliding his arm down to her waist.

“Are you gonna explain what that means exactly?” she laughed.

“You might not think it now, but I used to be a goodie-goodie,” he started, guiding her towards the opening in the alley. “When I first started in Sunset Skatepark, I was supposed to be absolutely perfect, and tattoos were a huge part of that, believe it or not.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Honest to God, I’m not lying. I wanted them so bad that I got any old stick and poke that was offered to me, which I don’t recommend at all,” he shook his head. “Obviously they’ve been covered up since then by these beauties,” he gestured to the arm wrapped snugly around her. “But I miss the spontaneity.”

“You, Raleigh Carrera, miss spontaneity? Mr. Publicity Stunt? Mr. Dating to Get the Tabloids On His Side?”

“I know it sounds crazy, Dom, but I miss being kind of secretive. Getting a tiny stick and poke where no one could see was exhilarating.” She looked up at him, and his face was bright.

His face was reminiscent of the past, a hint of gratification that she knew he hadn’t felt in a long time. Raleigh had always struggled with being truly content with his life, and she knew that their whirlwind romance was something to fill his void, as harsh as that sounded.

She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through. She’d gotten a taste of the high life, and she was exhausted. Knowing that, she didn’t mind being the person to fill in the cracks, clinging to the pieces to keep it together.

He used chaos as escapism, as a way to outrun the parasitic tendrils of the industry, the burden that came with being a household name, and the inevitable role model title that came with it.

She knew he was chasing a high that he could never sustain, and if feeding into his law-bending fantasies was the way to bring out the best in Raleigh, she would do it no matter the cost.

“So you want us to get party tattoos?” She finished, and his features twisted into a sheepish expression, one that was foreign on his face. He wasn’t one to get beaten to the punchline, so he seemed surprised by her willingness to match his energy.

“What do you know about party tattoos?” He smirked, his curiosity piqued.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out… eventually.”

He quirked a brow and leaned back, glancing at her lower back.

“I’m not saying a word,” she giggled, grabbing onto the hand draped around her waist, intertwining their fingers.

They rounded the corner and spotted the neon sign of the tattoo parlor down the road from them.

“You sure about this? Tattoos are permanent, you know. Plus we’re not exactly in the right mindset for this.”

“I’m sure.”

They walked in silence for a while, the only sound between them the tapping of her heels on the concrete sidewalk.

He pulled on the handle, and the small silver bells attached to the inside of the door jingled, and a gruff-looking man covered in tattoos looked up from the magazine he was reading. Luckily enough, it had to be Raleigh’s most recent cover.

His eyes widened, and Raleigh stopped him almost immediately. “I’d really appreciate it if you could keep this between us. We had to outrun the paparazzi a few minutes ago, and we really wanted a night to ourselves.”

The man looked starstruck, so Raleigh continued. “I’ll pay extra to rent out the shop for an hour or two.”

He shook his head, finally finding his words. “No need, Mr. Carrera. I’d only request an autograph, and maybe a picture to show my wife, if you wouldn’t mind. She’s a huge fan.”

Raleigh flashed him his most charming smile. “You got it.” He grabbed a sharpie and the magazine, while the man switched off the open sign and locked the front door.

“You want me to make it out to anyone in particular, sir?” He asked, signing his name with a flourish.

“Yeah, could you make it out to Linda?”

“Of course,” he smiled, a few strands of hair falling in front of his face while he concentrated on the message he was scrawling.

The man led them to a back room, and sanitized his station before sliding on a pair of gloves.

“How do you want to do this?” Excitement glimmered in his eyes, and warmth spread throughout her chest.

“I thought it could be a surprise,” she said, already locking in on an idea.

“You read my mind,” he grinned. He stripped his shirt off quickly, his lean torso flexing as he shimmied off his top. She tried diverting her eyes, but to no avail. He caught her staring, a hint of hunger in his look.

She sat just outside the room on a small leather couch, thumbing through Raleigh’s magazine shoot and interview to keep herself company while the needle buzzed in the other room. The interview was alien to her; he was keeping true to his public image, but it was so different than the side of Raleigh he’d allowed her to see.

She pitied the public who’d never get Raleigh to be truly candid and vulnerable with them.

Soon enough, he was done, and it was concealed from her eyes by the small bandage.

“I have an idea of where I want it, but I’m not so sure what I need to do…” she trailed off, not knowing how to approach an underboob tattoo. Was it appropriate to keep the shirt on? To take it off? Should she just take her bra off?

“If it’s anywhere near your chest, you’ll have to take your bra off. You can keep your shirt on as long as you keep it above the area we’ll be tattooing,” the man said professionally, and it eased her mind.

Raleigh watched from the doorway as she unhooked her bralette and slipped it through the arm of her shirt. His eyes were trained on her as she laid down on the table, lifting her top to right underneath her nipple. She didn’t mind him watching her; a heat bloomed in her stomach when she truly realized how her body commanded his.

“Go sit down,” she said, shooing him away. He chuckled, raising his hands up in front of him, before plopping on the same leather couch she had sat minutes before.

She described the tattoo to him, and he looked at her like she was crazy. It was simple, but so reckless. Something she wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of a few months prior. But something that seemed so natural and… right.

The machine punctured her skin, stinging in a way that was a comfortable pain – therapeutic, even. She winced, sighing as the needle passed across her rib bone.

“I have to go back over it one more time, and I’ll be done. You’re doing great,” he said under his breath, intently focused on maintaining the steadiness of his grip on the machine.

She gritted her teeth as he passed over the tender skin again, sucking her breath in.

“You okay?” Raleigh called from the other room, concern laced through the raspy bass of his voice.

“I’m great,” she replied, gripping her shirt above her bra.

“You’re all done,” he said, rubbing a thin layer of a sticky substance on her skin before taping a small bandage over it. “I’m putting petroleum jelly on this. Don’t take the bandage off till this time tomorrow.”

Within a couple of minutes, Raleigh handed over cash and a hefty tip to the artist, and they were out of the door.

It was nearly 2 a.m., and her thoughts seemed clearer, the cloudy haze of tequila beginning to fade. They walked leisurely down the empty road.

The street lamps were illuminating small patches of the road, the stretches of darkness more prevalent than light. The apartments and small shops were closed – they were the only people outside.

He stopped her underneath the bright bulb of the lamp nearest to them, and grinned. “Were you planning on showing me what you got at some point?”

“Yeah, but only if you do it first,” she replied, barely able to think straight. Her eyes grazed over his features as he looked down on her, taking in the soft shadows left on his tanned skin, his jawline and exposed collarbone looking especially sharp under the yellow light.

“Alright, that’s fair.” He pulled up his shirt, before peeling back the tape and the bandage with it. He’d gotten a tiny cloud tattooed right above the paragraph of text on his ribcage.

“What does it mean?”

His eyes glimmered despite the dim lighting. “You’re the only person in this world that makes me feel like I’m more than what I pretend to be. And you’re the only person who’s really seen the real me, and makes me feel like I’m… worth something, you know? I feel like I’m weightless, like I’m floating when I’m with you. Like I’m dreaming. Like my head is in the clouds, but in the best way.”

He reached out to stroke her cheek, and she leaned into his hand. He pressed his lips against hers softly, and she chuckled once. He pulled back, eyeing her. “I never thought I’d see this side of you, but I’m so glad it’s my secret to keep.”

He grinned, and reapplied his bandage, gesturing for her to take her turn.

She pulled her shirt and bra up, just enough for the bandage to be free. She lifted the tape, revealing two letters: R.C.

His eyes widened. She could tell he was momentarily stunned, so she jumped right in.

“My whole life I’ve felt average. Just another girl chasing a dream that she’d never achieve because she sounded and looked like every other girl that she was competing with. You changed my life. One in a Million was my ticket, but you were the one who gave that to me.

“I never wanted to be ‘boring’. I was just cautious. Comfortable. Safe. You’ve brought out a side of me that I never thought I could be, because you believed in me. I could spend a lifetime thanking you, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“So you branded yourself with my initials?” He said, still stunned, but the look on his face had softened significantly.

“And you got a tattoo inspired by me, too. What’s the difference?” She smiled and sniffled, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I guess we belong to each other now,” he said, before sweeping her up into his arms and kissing her fervently, the distant sounds of the city keeping them grounded.

----

#platinum #platinum choices #raleigh carrera #raleigh carrera x mc #playchoices #choicesmarchchallenge #jade writes choices fics

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matteredloyaltyaa · 4 years

Text

NAV.

GOOGLE DOC (RULES/ABOUT/VERSES).

PLOTTING FORM. HEADCANONS. WISHLIST.

Tumblr mobile friendly version of my rules under the read-more.

DISCLAIMER:

I do not claim to own or have created this character, though the headcanon posts you see here are of my own interpretation of this character and events. I am private and selective, meaning that I only write with mutuals (those who I follow and who follow me in return), and tend to watch who I follow back and/or write with for my own comfort. However, my askbox is open to everybody if you wish to talk to me or the character on this blog, but I may not answer everything put in there.

PASSWORDS:

Due to my social anxiety, I don't have a password in these rules, nor do I send them in. I read everybody's rules and pages before following and usually before interacting.

ACTIVITY:

This is my main blog, which means that I am on it most of the time. However, I do suffer from some mental disorders, namely anxiety, depression, and OCD. These tend to affect how I interact ooc and can make me overly distant sometimes, and it's usually nothing anybody has done to me but my own mind running off on it's own about things. So, I do apologize for that. I may be absent from blogs during bad periods or make a couple posts here and there that I always delete after an hour or two stating that I'm in a bad way. Everything will be tagged.

HIGH HONOR:

Please note that I base my characterization off my raw play of this game, in which Arthur is HIGH HONOR and you may see more of that toward the end of his main verse. However, I still play him as a morally grey individual, especially as he’s trying to find his own mind on things in a way, but ultimately he leans more toward honorable moral choices (or what are considered honorable for the life he leads). He will do both good and bad things. At his point in time, I’m not exactly leaning towards adding a low honor verse, as his portrayal within the fandom has turned me off completely and after playing that route myself, I don’t really see much reason to. However, that may change if I end up finding a way to put a spin to that.

BLOG & PERSONAL TRIGGERS:

Please note that I don't have many triggers myself outside of suicide and overly anxiety inducing content (jumpscares, purposely paranoia inducing posts, etc).

There are some themes that I would like to avoid writing about in detail or at all. Namely, I WILL NOT write out anything like incest (the John/Arthur ship tends to fall into this category for me, along with Arthur/Dutch and Arthur/Hosea, so I will say that it's a NOTP for me), abuse (outside of mentions in regards to backstory, all forms), pedophilia, and rape. Also, I should note on a personal side that pregnancy can make me a little uncomfortable due to some gender stuff with me. I don't mind mentioning it, nor do I mind parental relationships when it comes to Arthur and sometimes outright adopting children in certain verses, but threads and interactions solely based off pregnancy can make me uncomfortable. It's difficult to explain but I would like to avoid it. Really, when in doubt, just ask.

This blog does and may contain triggering material, due to the nature of this game and the character. The biggest ones that will be present here are violence, guns/shooting, crime, and illness. I should also note that, due to the fact that this game takes place in 1899, there may be some triggers related to the views of this time period. Arthur himself is rather progressive and doesn't hold those views himself, but that doesn't mean the people around him don't and may be referenced in threads. Everything will be tagged as I catch it and where needed.

SPOILERS:

This game has been out for at least a year now. I will not be tagging for spoilers anymore, so please follow or read at your own risk if you are working through the game for the first time.

WRITING, SPEED, and NSFW:

My general writing style is paragraph/paragraphs. I don't mind one-liners but I usually only reserve those for starters that I’m writing and I tend to expand on the length of those as I go. I format my posts, mostly just some minimal spacing, small text (not sub), and all-caps words, bold, and italic usage. If this bothers anybody or makes it hard to read, please let me know and I can continue our thread in a non-formatted way. I also use icons, but I will follow my partner's lead on iconless rps. I can also be a little long-winded with my replies but you aren't obligated to match that. As long as I don't get like three sentences back to five paragraphs, we're all good.

I'm a slow rper. It may take me a day or two to get around to things, both asks, threads, and messages. I don't mind a nudge here and there but if it feels like you're pressuring me, I will warn you and block if it continues.

I'm 24, the muse is 36 in his main verse. We are both over the age in regards to nsfw. Smut is kind of rare for me and I don't do it often on Tumblr, however if we're in a ship and you want to write that over Discord, I may be open to it. That said, too, I will ONLY write nsfw with people and muses who are OVER 18. There is no exception to this. That noted, too, Arthur's in his 30's so a massive age gap may not appeal to him much either.

SHIPPING:

I’m going to sound like a hardass but: I am a highly selective shipper on here, and the ships that do appear on this blog are ones I have had for quite some time. Everything of a romantic nature will need to be discussed with me and the chemistry has to be there for me to agree to shipping. I’m not an insta-shipper, nor am I accepting to pre-established romantic relationships outside of those in canon. They will need to be discussed with me like every other ship and may be subject to me disagreeing to do it. Otherwise, I am multi-ship, despite being highly selective, and I’m fine with discussing them but please be aware of this.

FOLLOWING, DRAMA, AND DUPLICATES:

I will usually give someone a day or two of active posting after following before I unfollow if I don't receive one back. I don't mean anything personal by that, I'm simply making sure I don't accidentally like or send anything in if we aren't mutuals. That said, too, I am selective with who I do follow. If you're a sideblog and you don't have that blog easily accessible on your main blog or you don't message me about it, I'm likely going to miss it. I don't follow rp blogs that are run more like personals if only to keep my dash slower. Also, generally, if our writing styles don't mesh, you're rude to me, or you post nasty things, I will likely unfollow/block/or not follow back.

I don’t interact with or reblog callout posts. I don't have great patience with ooc drama and will likely unfollow if there is a lot of it being posted by you.

Following and being followed by duplicates (other Arthurs) is completely fine with me. However, with the mentality sometimes, I won't go out of my way to follow first if only to avoid making anybody uncomfortable by me doing so. I'm also non-exclusive for general interactions, so multiples of the same character I am fine with. I may take mains, however, which means these blogs get priority over plots and focus in headcanons, etc.

CROSSOVERS AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS:

I'm crossover friendly so long as I know the character/fandom. That said, if I just can't get into it or make it fit, I won't force it.

I love original characters and you guys are cool with me, however I do need to see at least some stats or a verse we can interact in before I follow/follow back. I'm also fine with your OC knowing Arthur in their backstory but, again, romantic stuff needs to be talked over with me first.

STARTER CALLS:

I've found that I don't enjoy doing starter calls. I may do them here and there when the urge strikes, but the best way to interact with me is to message me or continuing memes sent or sent to me. I'm also more than happy to like other starter calls, too, if you want to throw them my way.

QUESTIONS?:

No. Go away. >:(

I’m kidding. Just drop me a message, I’ll get back to you. I also have a Discord available to mutuals, if that’s what you prefer. I promise I’m not as much as a hard ass as these rules make me seem.

ABOUT THE MUN:

Hey! Thank you for reading these if you do. A little introduction here: my name is Rory, I'm 25, Canadian and operate mostly out of the GMT-7 time zone. Though, I tend to post at odd hours so that may not be too noticeable. I'm nonbinary and I prefer they/them. I'm a full time university student, which means that I may disappear when studies pile up or my time is divided. That said, I do enjoy talking to people when I'm able. My IMs and Discord are always available to mutuals, just drop me a message.

#failed: rory has died . || ooc .#;pinned #[Figured I could do a more mobile friendly thing on here to pin #or more mobile friendly to Tumblr lol]#/// long post #[I hope the readmore works on the dash rn #if not I'm sorry]

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minichedders · 5 years

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high stakes 0.1

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Your small black heels clicked against the wooden pleated floor, echoing in the empty, white hallways, pictures of you and the family spread across the wall every so often, in between pieces of expensive art pieces and photography canvases. The white dress you were wearing blended in with the white, light hallway, your skin shining and glowing against the composition, complimenting your bright eyes and hair. The familiar dark red oak door came into your view as you huffed, tucking in your hair away from your face, the faint beating of your heart skipping every so often you had no reason to be nervous, but the sudden urgent texts and calls from your father had always worried you, especially with the fact that his security had almost tripled since the last time you visited.

Three light knocks landed on the door, your palms slightly clammy and shaking as the reached for the handle, twisting gently, emphasising the faint squeak it gave off, and the moaning of the great oak double doors. The first thing you noticed was your father, dark suit, dark facial features and his slumped body language, his age and tiredness practically flooding the room's atmosphere, and you almost cried at the sight of him. The second thing you noticed, was the man in front of you, how hadn't turned toward you, so all you could see was his dark brown curls, his tall stature and position in the office chair, if you hadn't known any better, you would assume your father was in a meeting but you had been cleared to come inside.

“Hi Daddy,” You said, walking around the large dark desk, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your fathers cheek, rubbing your thumb against his skin gentle whilst giving him a loving smile as he looked up at you, and all you saw was a broken puppy, lost and tired, which broke your heart.

“Hello sweet pea, please sit down,” You father replied, motioning to the second office chair placed next to the stranger. Now you had a good look at him, and it took your breath away, his dark eyes where solely focuses on you, building your nerves as they looked you up and down. You walked over, sitting down next to him, trying not to keep close o the intoxicating smell that leaked off the man's body.

“What's going on dad?” You asked, you fingers fidgeting as you bounced your foot up and down, tapping against the floor rhythmically.

“Sweet pea, this is Tom, your new appointed bodyguard,” Your father said, nearly choking on his words as he watched your face fall, confusion, shock and little anger fell over you as you stayed speechless.

“Since I have merged with another business we had to make a lot of changes, I have received multiple threats, which doesn't bother me, but now they are using you as a target as well, so I need to keep you safe,” You dad started, and every so often, your eyes would travel form your father to the man next to you, who had been looking at you since you sat down, making you feel slightly nauseous. "So, Tom will be staying with you until we can eliminate the threat,"

You sat for a while, both your father and Tom looking at you, waiting for your reaction as you stayed motionless. You blinked multiple times over, trying to calm your swirling mind, making you dizzy, shaking your head slightly as you looked at your father.

"He's staying with me?" Dad, have you really thought this through? It cant be that serious, I can look after myself," You said, turning sour as you hear Tom scoff beside you, causing you to look him up and down with a dirty look on your face; you must admit, he was beyond attractive, but a bodyguard. Really?

"Yes, until I can be sure you are safe on your own, you need to be nice to Tom, and do anything and everything he tells you too, I'm sorry sweet pea," You father said, and your bitterness built up; you didnt want a stranger living with you, just when you had gotten to the routine of being by yourself, walking around in basically nothing whilst eating a shit ton of pot noodle, now you had to wear clothes and cook meals for you both.

"Don't even fucking bother," You sighed, standing up and leaving. You flooded with guilt as you remembered your fathers face, but you stood your ground, walking down the same hallways and making your way back to your car, saying hello to the familiar security and maids that roamed through.

Before you could even pull open the car door, it slammed shut in front of you, Toms body coming into view before you as you rolled your eyes to the heavens.

"Seriously? I can't even drive?" You scoffed, shoving the car keys harshly into his chest as you rounded the car and made your way to the passenger's seat.

"Why are you so against this?" Tom said, staring the car and pulling ou the gravel driveway.

"Normally the security doesn't talk to the client, just saying," You remarked, thinking about all the films and book you had studied, where the security guards took place in the background, but then in your previous experiences, you were always close and friendly with the staff your father hired.

"What about Princess Diaries? Don't they fall in love" Tom said, laughing to himself as you ignored him. You were surprised, he didnt seems like the kind of guy that would watch cheesy chick flics, but here you were. The short car journey was filled with silence, it was uncomfortable, biting away at your skin as you watched the familiar scenery pass you by. You had always stayed close to your father, mainly because of his guilt-tripping about abandoning him, but this way the only way you could be your own person and grow up, which your father also resented.

a mix of anger and anxiety coursed through your veins as you got out of the parked car and into your house, disregarding any emotional or physical response Tom had to your brisk actions. It was unnecessary for him to be here, to live here, you had always received a threat and you didnt understand why this was any different. But you sighed again at the recurring image of your ill father.

Once you opened the door, you threw the keys into the bowl beside the entrance, the jingle and crashing making you wince at the scurring silence. You could feel Toms presence behind you, hear his breath in and heavily breath outwards again, and you could hear your heartbeat racing faster than electric; you knew that no matter how hard you could try you wouldn't be able to ignore him, or his insanely good looks.

You gave him a brief tour of the apartment; showing him the kitchen and bar, the living room and how to work the controls of the room and of course his bedroom and en-suite, and you wished he would settle in and keep to himself for the most part; but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Wheres your room then, sweetheart?” He said, his gorgeous frame leaning against the door frame, arms folded and a sly smirk on his face, looking you up and down as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to bite back and tell him to shove it, but you decided it wasn't fair; this was his job after all, and it was only to protect you.

“Down the hall the left, and don't you dare even think about coming in uninvited or without knocking or ill have you fired before you can even blink,” you said, a flirtatious hint somehow ending up in your meant to be threatening sentence, you huffed again and left, feeling his deep brown eyes stare at you as you walk away, locking yourself in your bedroom and falling dramatically on the soft, white silk sheets.

It felt odd to you, having someone in the house that you can't really treat as a welcomed guest, but not a staff member either; Tom was now a permanent residence in your home, and that would take some getting used too; you now had to be careful around your own home, not wear, do, say anything to risque or harsh, not sing in the shower to your hearts content, go to the toilet with the door open, lay in your underwear on the balcony recliner, all the small things you now couldn't do with Toms company. You decided that this may be a good thing though; there was no doubt in your mind that Tom was attractive, unbearably so, but this meant that you had no control of your action, you will either act like a nervous prick who can't stand up for herself or become a mean, walls up, closed off person with anger issues; really there was no telling what could happen.

But for now, you grabbed your favourite book and changed into your pyjama shorts and a crop top, even though it was around 3pm, and sat on the balcony recliner, to induld]ge oni some much-needed vitamin d.

Tom found it amusing, the way your eyebrows and nose would furrow and scrunch up to read the words on the cream white page, and how he could tell how interesting the book was by the way your facial expressions contorted with each paragraph or so.

He found himself watching you intently, his eyes being drawn to you and your figure; he was stunned that he was going to get paid this huge sum of money every month to look after some rich mans daughter; although he felt guilty that he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to fuck her senseless ever since he saw her.

---

#tom holland #tony stark #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #harrison osterfield #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!tom #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shots #MCU

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nashvilletonihon · 5 years

Text

An Overseas Love Affair (Or, How I Went From Miss To Mrs.)

This is a long overdue and much needed entry but school really hit me outta nowhere in April and hasn’t stopped. Everyone is just trying to make it to summer holiday at the end of this month which still feels like a million light years away. We haven’t had any vacation days since Golden Week and it’s the longest stretch without a random weekday off we’ve had since I arrived. (I think.)

My one year Japanniversary is coming up in August and I’ll have a totally separate post to sum up all that’s happened in the last year, but there is one major event that needs (and deserves) it’s own entry.

I’ve thought long and hard about how to approach telling the story of my overseas marriage. (Yep, that’s right. I got married.) I had everything from a very detailed and third person point of view story, right down to a simple Q&A that was about as bare bones as you could get. But nothing seemed quite right...

So I decided on a simple recounting of the events that lead me up to March 22nd, 2019. (My wedding day.) It may not be spectacular in any way, but to me, it’s the story of how I met my husband. Which is pretty spectacular in and of itself. Enjoy.

The first time I saw Jacob Goodwin Griswold I was sleep deprived, dehydrated, sweaty and exhausted. I was back in my suit sitting in a new hotel conference room in Kyoto City waiting for the next, of what seemed like a never-ending supply of workshops, to begin. I had no idea what I was doing in Japan and was 100% ready to call everything off and fly back home to the States. I missed my family, my cat, my friends and my boyfriend. I was depressed and anxious. As I was sitting there I noticed this guy over in the corner by the table set up for our Prefectural Adviser and Board of Education JET Coordinator. He didn’t particularly stand out in any way. He was tucked up behind the table and the wall, not really talking to anyone, more so observing than doing much else. I didn’t know why, but in that moment I knew I needed to talk to him. Eventually.

I patiently sat through the mandatory information sessions, waiting for this mystery man in the corner to reveal himself when finally, after eternity, he got up and walked to the center of the room to give his presentation. I have to be honest when I say I don’t remember much about his workshop, which makes it seem unmemorable (which isn’t true!), but be reminded dear reader that I was incredibly jet-lagged and still trying to fully comprehend my new life in a foreign country. You could have had Garth Brooks up there singing and still wouldn’t remember much of it.

What I *do* remember though is the way he talked. Low and soft, with a lisp. That lisp was about the cutest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life and I hung on every word. I remember the way he pushed his glasses up his nose, his hands on his hips as he talked (like a football coach on the sideline). I remember the passion in his voice and the eagerness with which he spoke. He exuded confidence and energy, but it never came off as cocky or self-absorbed. Here was a man who genuinely loved teaching. I sat in rapt attention.

Then, it was over. 30 minutes seemed to fly by in the span of 5. There was another workshop but all I wanted now was the 10 minute break we were going to get afterward. That was going to be my chance...

Ah, I think it’s very important for me to pause just a moment and tell you, my lovely reader, that what I felt for Jacob upon first seeing him wasn’t exactly love. I left for Japan in a very committed and loving relationship, which I was already preparing to return home to in a year’s time. What I felt for Jacob was more of a...pull? As if a string was running out of the center of my chest and straight over to Jacob’s. I wanted to find out what that string meant...

So I did. During that 10 minute break, I went over to the head table to ‘‘casually chat with Leah’‘ and I also just-so-happened to introduce myself to Jacob who also just-so-happened to be nearby. I found out there was a dinner for everyone afterward and so I made a mental note to try and seat myself somewhere in his vicinity. So imagine my surprise (and secret delight) when he sat himself down right across from me later that evening at the restaurant. Dinner was filled with amazing food and drinks, laughter and good conversation. For the first time in 5 days I felt...normal. Jacob kept me in stitches as he ribbed my gullible new roommate and friend while I tried not to seem too eager to ask him questions about himself as I wanted to come off as cool and unassuming. (Which I really don’t think I managed to do but let’s pretend I did for the sake of my ego.) At one point during the meal, Jacob bet he could keep me in Japan more than a year. I scoffed and wished him good luck. I was out of there the moment my contract was finished. He calmly told me he had 8 months to change my mind and I secretly began to wonder if he would... With dinner finished and paid for, talks of heading to a karaoke bar began. A small part of me wanted to go, but the larger part of me was exhausted and knew I had to give my speech to the head of the Board of Education in the morning, so I politely declined amidst protests and peer pressure. I bid everyone goodnight and thought that would be the last time I would ever really see or interact with Jacob having NO idea what the future held.

Looking back I do wish I had ended up going. But maybe if I had things wouldn’t have happened the way they did...

I’ll fast forward a couple of weeks now to (you guessed it) another conference. This one was solely for us new AET’s to receive advice, support and criticism on the self-introductions we would be doing in another week or so once classes started again. Again, it was a lackluster day full of information and meeting like activities which didn’t do much in the way of making my eventual first class any less scary. I saw Jacob throughout the day and we talked during the breaks. We had lunch with another AET at a curry restaurant not far from the conference building and made plans with a handful of other AET’s (both new and seasoned) that night after closing remarks. I was already looking forward to it.

We ended up a hot wing place in the heart of downtown touristy Kyoto. Having had a few pregame drinks at the 7-11 across the street while we waited for our table meant that I was feeling free and uninhibited. So naturally I plunked myself down next to Jacob in a booth only meant for 4 people, 6 maximum, but was now housing almost 10. It was cozy in a way that only being surrounded by good people and being slightly tipsy can be. More drinks were ordered and I reveled in the ‘‘loud foreigner’‘ stereotype as we laughed and talked trash on the conference we had just come from when suddenly I felt a hand on my arm and a mouth close to my ear.

‘‘Do you ever do the small things for people and then wish they would do the same for you?’‘

Everything stopped. I whirled my head to the left and came face to face with searching brown eyes, inquisitive and imploring. No one, ever, in my entire life and asked me that before. It was a secret desire I had never divulged to anyone and yet here was this guy I had only known for a few weeks who had seemingly plucked it out of the ether. I sat there slack-jawed. How does one even reply to a statement like that aside from the one word answer of “Yes.”?

The rest of the night was a blur. After wings we all went to a karaoke bar next door. (It against my better judgement seeing as how it was a Thursday night and I had my first day of work the next morning and it turns out I had every reason to be worried.) Eventually it got to the point where myself and Julianne (the other Tango Prefectural AET) HAD to go. We were cutting it close already catching the last train in a city we didn’t know so Jacob walked us out, hailed a cab and gave us money for the fare to the station. I protested saying we would be fine but he insisted and I felt as if I needed to let him win this one. Julianne and I managed to make it out of the city but got stranded about a 30 minute drive from home at 11:30 PM at a small outdoor station with no attendant. With only one working phone between the both of us, and literally NO idea where we were, Julianne and I were up sh*t creek without a paddle. But guess who was frantically working with another AET on the other end trying to call a taxi company to get us home? Jacob. It was the first (but not the last) time he would help me. (Clearly we made it back and lived to tell the tale. Humorously now...)

For the sake of the length of this entry, I’m going to condense the next few months into a paragraph or two. After that ill fated train station debacle, Jacob and I didn’t really talk much in the first couple of months I lived in Japan. I was too busy trying not to quit every single day and also work on a relationship that clearly wasn’t going anywhere. I would message him from time to time or see that he had text to check in on me. It was nice to know he was there, even if it was sporadically at first. August and September came and went. Then October hit me like a sack of bricks and after a series of personal life issues I was worse off mentally and emotionally than when I first arrived in Japan. It was at this point when Jacob and I started talking more frequently. At first it was the typical “getting to know you” type questions. Where’d you grow up? What’s your favorite food? Are a cat or a dog person? The usual. As time went on we began to delve deeper into who we were as people and it turns out we were a lot more alike than we cared to admit. That’s not to say we don’t have our differences though. (He likes pit bulls and mastiffs while I’m more of a teeny, tiny, snuggly cat person...) The similarities kept piling up and October finished in the blink of an eye. Suddenly I was staring down the barrel of November and the upcoming Skills Conference at the end of the month. At this point we were talking every single day and I found myself looking forward to our daily messages. It was about a week before the Skills Conference that it hit me...I was in love with him.

The anticipation that had been building at the thought of seeing Jacob again was much more than one friend getting excited to see the other. It was something much deeper. And so, on the morning of November 30th, I boarded the train bound for Kyoto City and hoped my feelings weren’t one sided. (I had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t.) Not many people know this but Jacob and I share the same birthday. Yep. We were both born on November 30th exactly 8 years (and some hours) apart. It’s a strange little quirk not many couples can claim which I think is pretty dang cool. We had agreed that neither one of us was going to get the other a gift so of course I had to break the “no gifts” rule straight away. I arrived at the conference hall clutching the bag of cookies I had made the night before and sheepishly looking around the crowded auditorium for a head of curly hair. I noticed one of my other friends first and immediately went over to her. We began chatting and a few minutes into the conversation I noticed him. He was wearing a purple shirt and grey wool coat and he looked so cute. I frantically motioned him over and before I could even present the cookies he says “I got you something for your birthday.” while pulling out a fun sized candy bar from his pocket with the most satisfied and self-assured grin on his face. “I got you something too.” I replied, handing over the bag. “They’re homemade cookies.” The look on his face was priceless. I’ve never seen someone so crestfallen at receiving a birthday present before.

Rachel: 1 Jacob: 0

Now, before this particular conference, Jacob and I had made a bet. I bet him that he couldn’t go 24 hours without being mean to me. Up to that point, Jacob was notorious for making fun of anything and everything he could about me. From my overalls to my use of a weighted blanket. He didn’t care who was around or listening. He liked picking on me. So, the bet went like this: If he could be nice to be the entire day and won, he got a prize of his choosing. However, if he *couldn’t* be nice to me all day and I won, I got a prize of my choosing. This is important to the story because it will come into play later on in the narrative.

Although I didn’t see Jacob much that day during actual conference hours, every time I *did* see him he would compliment some part of my outfit or personality. It was weird because I was so used to him being mean that it felt...unnatural. I was impressed by his determination to win. And he actually did really well. He even ran back across the street to pick up the scarf I had dropped on the way back from our lunch break. I was beginning to become genuinely worried I was going to lose...UNTIL we were taking the train to the city after the conference. I don’t remember what the exact comment was, I just know I was drunkenly talking about my ex when Jacob let loose a rather nasty aside that caused our mutual friend to drop his jaw and utter a rather surprised “Damn...” I could by the look on Jacob’s face he couldn’t believe he’d said it either. The regret and guilt were plainly written right across it. I had won.

Rachel: 2 Jacob: 0

The rest of the evening went by in a haze. There’s so much information I want to share with you, but this post is already bordering on needing a sequel so I’ll skip to the next good bit which is my trip down to Kyoto City in December. After the conference, Jacob and I began to seriously plan a visit for me down to the city. I had already made plans to spend the New Year’s holiday in Nara with my Japanese grandparents but I had days prior to that with nothing to do. So, I decided to cash in on my bet winnings. And what was that, you may be wondering? I told Jacob he had to take me to dinner before we went to see Wreck It Ralph 2. That’s right. I made him take me on a date. Which I happen to think is quite clever if I do say so myself. I’ll never forget how nervous I was to see him for the first time after our birthday. Whenever Jacob and I had been around each other before, there was always someone with us. This was the first time we would hanging out by ourselves and I wasn’t quite sure what to do...

I really needn’t have worried so much because it was the best week and a half of my life. We ended up watching Wreck It Ralph all in Japanese and I (in an impressive moment of bravery) made the first move when I snuggled in close halfway through the movie. My New Year’s Eve plans in Nara ended up being canceled due to an unfortunate death in the family, so Jacob and I made a spontaneous trip to Kobe where were went ice skating, walked down by the port and rang in 2019 by visiting our first shrine of the New Year. It felt as if I was living in a dream and I never wanted it to wake up from it.

But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. The end of the winter holiday was quickly approaching so I suggested Jacob come up to Tango for a few days before we both had to go back to our respective schools. He had never been to that area of Kyoto before so he quickly agreed and a day later we were on a train heading North. The first night we spent in Tango together I got a little too big for my britches and had more whiskey than I should have. After falling asleep while peeing, I apparently made an impassioned speech about wanting to have “little potato people” with him and staunchly decreed that we were going to get married. Jacob gently spoon fed me water and agreed. And that’s when I knew.

For you see, dear reader, in my experience, love tends to sneak in. It hardly ever kicks down the front door, but rather shimmies up the drain pipe and slides open a second story window before slowly lowering itself, soundlessly, into your domicile. I was 100%, without a shadow of a doubt, head over heels in love. But this love, was a different kind of love than any I had experienced before. It was a comforting love. An effortless love. A natural, make you feel good from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, kind of love. And it was all mine.

Those who are closest to me will vouch for the fact that I NEVER wanted to get married or have children. The mere thought of marriage was an idea that gave me a queasy feeling in my tummy. (Don’t ask me what the thought of children did...) Yes, I had talked of marriage before with various long term and serious boyfriends in the past...but that was only because it seemed like the next logical step in the relationship. It wasn’t necessarily something I wanted so much as an unspoken agreement that it’s what came after you checked off a number of other boxes. That’s just how these things work. So of course when I slowly started to tell my nearest and dearest that I had met the man I was going to marry and we were, in fact, going to get married their responses ranged from genuine delight and happiness to downright disbelief and incredulity. My parents were obviously against it as they had never met Jacob before and had really only heard me seriously talking about him for about 2 months at that point. Their answer to Jacob’s question for approval was a firm and resounding ‘’NO.’’

I love my parents, and while we have our differences, I value their opinions and advice. But that’s exactly what it is. Opinions and advice. Jacob and I talked everything over after his conversation with my parents and decided that getting married was the best thing for US. We didn’t want to wait to make other people feel comfortable because it wasn’t about them. It never was. So, we decided to elope. Getting married in Japan was fairly easy all things considered. There was some paperwork involved which required a trip to the Consulate for some notarial services, a few witnesses who didn’t mind putting their information down on paper and on March 22nd, 2019 we screamed into the Minami-ku City Hall parking lot 10 minutes before they closed. Why the 22nd you ask? Well, in all honesty it was the only day both of us were off from work. The City Hall isn’t open on the weekends or holidays and if we didn’t go on the 22nd we had no idea how long we would have to wait. Neither one of us wanted to take the chance so we agreed the 22nd was best. The entire affair lasted about 25 minutes (thanks to the two kindly Japanese City Hall workers who stayed past closing time to help us fill out a form we forgot (and might have been more excited for us than we were)) and cost us roughly 300 yen for the marriage license.

And suddenly, I was Mrs. Griswold.

Was it the wedding of my dreams? Well, I’m not really sure because I never planned out a wedding for myself before. The furthest I ever got was putting a few photos of dresses I liked in a folder on my desktop marked ‘‘Maybe One Day’‘. Somehow though, the way Jacob and I did it was perfect and now I can’t imagine anything different. (He was in a suit for work and I wore my overalls. Fitting, right?) I was never one for fancy dresses or big events. Heck, we didn’t even have rings picked out but that didn’t matter to me because the most important thing was getting to spend the rest of my life with Jacob as his wife. Everything else was just...extra.

I am so lucky to married to the most kind, genuine, caring, gentle, sweet, intelligent, passionate, funny and witty man. We have so many things in common but are still our own individuals. I married my best friend and my confidant. Everyday is a new adventure to journey off into with him. He’s my sidekick and I’m his. Four months of marriage have passed in blissful happiness. The hardest thing about our relationship at the moment is the distance between us, but even that is minuscule compared to strength of the love that we have. I could go on and on in great detail about Jacob, but the only way to truly know someone is to meet them. Our biggest goal right now is getting back to the States in order for both of us to meet one another’s respective families and friends. It’s a bit backwards, meeting after the fact, but neither Jacob nor I have ever really done things ‘’by the book’’. We hope to return for Christmas. In the meantime, I am going to go ahead and wrap this post up. Enjoy some photos of us and feel free to ask questions about anything that seems unclear or that you might want additional information on. I’m an open book!

じゃあまた (See you!)

- レイチェル (Rachel)

The only way we could fit the entire fountain in the picture...

Yakiniku date with the most handsome man in the world. (Who never judges how many grilled meats I eat...)

Jacob was known at his former school as a very strong drinker...

Be still my heart. <3

Enjoying the gardens of Okayama Castle.

A candid from a Ritsumeikan school trip that I love and is currently my LINE chat background.

Y’ALL. His mother WILLINGLY gave me this photo and I’ve never been the same since. The shirt. The hair. The tiny patch of chin fuzz!! ‘Lil high school senior behbeh Jacob.

The poor guy’s curly hair fell victim to the humidity in Okayama...but that peach shaved ice certainly helped him forget all about it.

#Japan #marriage #love #bestfriend #travel #lifeabroad

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insatiabls-a · 6 years

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( updated rules + mun 06.09.18 )

——MEET THE MUN ;

O1. heyo , my name is qonout ( she/her )

O2. i’m 15 years of age ( my bday is 12/17 )

O3. I’m a sophomore as of last Thursday ( O6.O7.18 )

O4. i have 3+ years of roleplay experience :)

O5. i am literate && sometimes i write more than i wish to.

O6. i’m an extremely positive person so ,, please let’s all be nice to each other here. if you ever need to talk to someone , PLEASE COME TO ME. i will help you with anything :)

O7. i am EST time zone ,, PA

O8. one more thing ; i have severe depression && anxiety. those things can affect the way i am sometimes so please don’t take it the wrong way.

O9. heads up ; these are a little lengthy and make me seem like an asshole but im not i swear.

—— RULES ;

O1. SELECTIVE ; my blog is selective and i will ONLY roleplay with mutuals. it’s nothing personal ,, just for the sake of my anxiety.

O2. FOLLOWING ; since i am private ,, i am picky with who i follow. it’s really just for the sake of my sanity. i have sever anxiety && so that does come into play with following.

O3. CROSS-OVERS ; i am most definitely cross over friendly but i can be a little selective about it! OC’s ,, i am also OC friendly but like i said ,, it depends on the cross over.

O4. NSFW & TRIGGERS ; anything nsfw ( other than possible blood , gore , darkness etc ) will not be on my blog. i know most of the rpc is older than 18 but as long as you tag your posts ,, we’ll be all good :) now as for triggers ,, i have suffered through a lot in my life. && sometimes i still do. if you’re reading this && could kindly tag these triggers it’d be greatly appreciated.

* rape

* suicide

( or anything relating to suicide )

O4. PATIENCE ; i am begging you to be patient with me. as school is starting up again ,, and me tending to hermit away into my bedroom ,, i still have a life. i still have friends && family. im extremely close to my mom so i am often bonding with her 95% of the time. so if i don’t reply to you right away ,, it’s most likely some of the reasons above. or because im just not feeling the muse okay?

O5. WRITING & FORMATTING ; i tend to write ,, a lot. sometimes i can write 5-6 paragraphs or more. sometimes less. it depends if im feeling it. i often have to visually imagine the setting, who, what, where, when, how, & so forth. my grammar is pretty good && so is my vocabulary. i often like to expand it so every now & then you’ll see me using a variety of text. i do format my writing a certain way. i will put some words in all caps ,, quotations , parentheses & so forth. i don’t always resize my text but when i do it’s probably just <small></small> ,, never anything below that. you don’t have to format your text a certain way ,, but that’s just how i do it :)

O6. GRAMMAR; i don’t feel as if i need to put this here but we should mostly have an idea that decent grammar should come into play. as long as i understand you ,, it really doesn’t matter. if you misspell a couple words im not going to hold it against you. && for those who’s english isn’t their first language ; YOU GUYS ARE AMAZEBALLS ! i would always love to write with you. && don’t worry about grammar that much :) i’ll understand. ++ english also isn’t my first language ?? i grew up speaking arabic but learned english so i understand.

O7. GOD-MOD ; just simply don’t do it. i write cheryl the way she NEEDS to be written. unless we’ve discussed that your chara has certain abilities that can detect the way she’s thinking/feeling , don’t claim you do. it is MY cheryl && i love her ,, don’t try changing her.

O8. NO TOLERANCE ; no tolerance for hate speech, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, racism & so forth. it’s just not gonna happen on my blog. as for call out culture ,, no offense but if you’re doing anything wrong ( as some of the things above ) I WILL SAY SOMETHING !! maybe not in the open but i will privately talk to you about it.

O9. DECLINING ROLEPLAYS ; listen ,, my fandoms are limited && so is my knowledge. so if i turn down your rp for that reason ,, don’t take it personal. i may also decline a roleplay because im either just not feeling it or i just don’t see it! it’s nothing personal bby. we can always try some other time.

1O. SHIPS ; oh my god ,, say hello the biggest ship whore on the planet. HOWEVER , cheryl doesn’t trust easy. she has went through a lot of traumas in her life that would be extremely hard to come back from. chem is key ! let’s build something beautiful <3

11. MEMES ; send all the memes. i promise you ,, ill be beyond happy about it. don’t think that i won’t. if you want to turn memes into threads , please make a separate post for it !! i don’t want to clutter up anyone’s dash.

12. EXCLUSIVES / MAINS ; if you’re down for mains , just hit me up ! HOWEVER ,, exclusives are v selective. it’s gonna take a lot for you to become an exclusive to me. or i may not even do it. we’ll see.

13. PLOTTING ; please! plot with me! i will most likely be down for it. but always come to me with an IDEA before approaching ?? it’s either that or we can brain storm. if you’re solid about your plot ,, throw it at my face. if you wanna brain storm ,, let’s do it. we can also turn a simple one line into something. even AU’s

14.VERSES; i do have multiple verses that are in the works. i have a solid teen wolf verse && I PROMISE ,, more are to come. the tw verse is also flexible. i mostly keep cheryl the way she is in different crossovers. ( twilight , tvd/to , & others ). i am compliant either way and we can most certainly work something out

15. VISUALS ; all icons are made by MOI , screencaps vary from screencapped.net & thetvshows.us. feel free to use icons && gifs ,, just nothing too big please? my icons are 100x100. && cut your posts please !!

16. that is all !! sorry if my rules are a lot ,, it’s just super important if you read all these.

#rules

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xurkitips · 6 years

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On Conveying Personality Through Chatroom-style Dialogue

A friend of mine shared screenshots of a roleplay he was having via a Discord server, wherein the style was chatroom/texting based. Each character would have a different style of typing completely unique to their person. Though unfamiliar with all of them, I could see what their personalities were like

Like real human beings, a character very much so has a “voice”. I mean that both in the literal sense, through their manner of speaking and what they say, but also through their self expression, interests, and actions. This carries over into the digital realm in ways we may not even notice. Text messages may not be verbal, no, but there are ways to show inflection.

There are many, many ways to show meaning through text. Here are some that I’ve picked up and utilized with my own characters:

Sentence structure

all lowercase sentences VS Grammatically correct

Lowercase gives off the feeling of someone familiar with others or willing to become familiar. It lacks the tension of formal writing, complete with its capitalization and proper periods ending sentences, and feels very casual and approachable. It may also be a sign of someone who doesn’t care much about perfection, a lazy person, or an easy going individual. Seems like a lot of internet regulars prefer this kind of typing style.

“im dying

‘deafening horrorcore rap’ ok i listen to literal noise and idk what this even is”

Using a properly capitalized and punctuated style is very formal, like one would see in a book, an official email, etc. It’s more serious and stern than lowercase is and may imply an older, more mature person typing...or maybe just someone trapped on their phone at the mercy of autocorrect.

"I am always happy to see you, even if you are not feeling your best.“

“It's nice here.

Quiet.”

There’s a certain respectful steadiness to it as well. It can be calming to read at times.

Punctuation VS Lack of punctuation

End-stopped lines come with both a pause and a bit of a pointed and direct feeling. It strengthens both lowercase and grammatically correct styles, but in different ways. In conjunction with “proper” writing, it’s less noticeable, merely giving the reader a moment’s pause. In conjunction with lowercase, especially if the one typing isn’t keen on using periods, it can come off as stern, serious, passive-aggressive, or angry.

“whatever.

it's less excruciating than it would be without it.”

Removal of punctuation is a different story. Typically just shown with lowercase, it leaves it with that casual feeling intact, or like one’s sentences are more like quick thoughts or questions. Removing them from grammatically correct sentences does ease off some of the tension, implying someone with a more neutral-positive tone while still being more mature.

“I’m not terribly good with conversation”

And then there’s the run-on sentences from those who type small novels per response. Usually complete with multiple and’s. It’s a sign of nervousness, enthusiasm, or oftentimes a younger character...

“actually i don't know much about it i just happened to see something online and it's apparently only manufactured overseas exclusively for this one particular shop and they made the original design and initial product i guess”

Oof.

Proper spelling (or lack thereof)

The better the spelling, the more the likelihood of the person being older, calmer, or neutral. There’s also a sense of being well educated or careful about one’s typing. Perhaps a confident air may exude from what they say, too.

“Can you come help me for a moment?”

Those who make a lot of mistakes will simply confuse words for other words, forget apostrophes, or type too fast to notice things missing or in the wrong location. Some just don’t really care enough or are too tired to deal with it. Too much focus and people know what they mean anyway. Probably.

“i laug hso hard hes come runin

he thougt i aws dyin”

It can also happen in very emotional situations, in bouts of laughter, crying, rage, or when one is drowsy, medicated, or sick. It tends to stand out when one’s style is suddenly very, very different and tips others off to something being wrong.

Younger characters, especially kids, also make spelling mistakes all the time depending on their age, whether due to sounding out words or just in a hurry to reply.

Short sentence fragments, single words, and lengthy paragraphs

Sometimes people with rapid-fire thoughts, who are excited, busy, stressed, or angry, will take to quick and short responses (sometimes of many fragments in a row). These show a similar feeling as do lines of poetry. Stacking small fragments on top of one another adds emphasis. The reader has to read them one by one rather than as a straight sentence. On its own, the word or fragment stands out and becomes more important.

"well

yeah thats

what i was tryina do

but i mean”

I’ve seen it used used for storytelling from one person to another in larger chunks of things, quick responses, for poetic value, and in irritation or passive-aggressiveness.

In full sentence conversations sent in short bursts, it’s also allowing the reader pause to read each comment without it feeling like a novella. Though it can also feel like someone is obnoxious, rambling on and on as the notifications keep coming, or has a lot to talk about and keeps thinking of more.

Then there are those who type rather large responses all at once instead of hitting the enter key with every sentence:

"Whoever did it was quite thorough; either the power in that area of the lab was cut while we were distracted or they tampered with the security cameras, because that footage is missing. But, we have some theories now. It had to have been someone with direct access to the laboratory. I hesitate to place blame on any of my coworkers...they're all my trusted companions and friends! And yet...”

It’s concise and a solid, complete story in one spot. Could be someone who loves to talk, could be someone who didn’t want a response before they were done talking. It’s also commonly seen by middle-aged texters who want to say everything they can all at once.

Exclamation points and Question marks

Simple one here. Question mark for a question or confusion, exclamation point for emphasis or an exclamation. But when a person adds multiple to a sentence it can convey more of the person’s feelings;

“are you okay??”

Here is someone who is very concerned. Multiple question marks can imply things such as worry, stress, disbelief, and shock. There’s a sense of hurry and tension. Perhaps the person on the other end is frightened, easily afraid, or tends to have an overwhelming reaction to things.

“oh!!! it’s nice to see you!!!”

!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, multiple exclamation points convey much more friendlier, happier tones. Often such things as surprise, excitement, happiness, friendliness. Users typing !! as a punctuation (like I tend to do) may do it as an assurance or to show how thrilled they are to talk. Occasionally !!!! is tacked onto an angry statement to be more of a shout, but I see it less and less.

Chatspeak and Internet habits

Shortenings of words have been a regular thing for ages. It’s easy, convenient, and gets the point across quickly. But the internet has taken it to a new extreme, where sentences can be almost entirely compromised of them.

“wtf r u talkin abt?? gdi man idk wuts even happening rn”

A character wanting to be quick to respond, always on the ball, always involved, may be more likely to utilize and understand chatspeak. They’re the social butterfly of the group. It’s also a sign of a long-time internet lurker who’s aware of what the lingo is, and how to use it. A complete lack thereof points toward either an older user or someone who’s unused to social media.

The more memes, the harder someone is trying to fit in. Or maybe they’re easily amused or just absorbed things from their friends without thinking about it. The comedian of the group is going to know the best ways to use them.

Smilies and Emojis

:D D: :DDD // :3 3: >:3 :3c // :o :O O:<

These kinds of smilies have always struck me as the most friendly. Whether used in devious ways or with genuinely heartwarming intentions, the playful, lightheartedness of the user really shines through these.

"not a bad way to spend a lazy day :D”

“it's also my birthday :3″

It’s got just the right vibe to punctuate a sentence that’ll leave the reader feeling that the person likely means no harm or wants to be friendly, positive, or encouraging. I’ve met a lot of people that use these and turn out to be very kind or considerate people.

:), ;), ((((: and related

A long time positive, friendly smiley.

"You said you've known them a long time? I think they would understand. :)”

And yet these days I tend to associate it with passive aggressive statements, plotting, slyness, devious behavior, or anger. Older users may be inclined to use :) as a means to show their emotional state, but newer users seem more inclined to do the opposite. The more parentheses there are, the more upset the person, it seems.

“man don’t u love it when the power’s out in the middle of the night it’s just (((: really great thanks (((((:”

Then the ;) smiley comes off more specifically flirty and a bit playful. Doesn’t seem to change much there.

“if i find a good chance 2 hook u up ill do my best ;)”

The bane of my teenage existence. It’s a more old school sign of laughter, rarely seen in today’s world due to falling out of favor and becoming associated with, “LOL Rawr XD Tacos I’m So Randoom,” culture. But time to time you do see it. Mostly with sarcasm but sometimes with genuine intentions.

“xDddddDDD

It was a good joke. XD”

A character using it genuinely comes off more playful, and to me, personally, as an older person who’s genuinely unaware of the associations with the smiley itself trying to show how they laughed without using LOL.

Letter/Character smilies

Y’know, things like .w. and ._. or owo, where the letters or symbols make a face. These are fairly popular, it seems. I don’t like using them myself, but know a few who do use them.

"I'm sorry that they can be mean qmq”

It’s a different feel from the others. There’s something soft to it, almost a gentleness. When these or Japanese characters are used, there’s more whimsy. It’s cute and almost a bit feminine. It may convey an open person or give the impression that said person is easier to talk to.

Though honestly I can’t see uwu and owo as anything but heavily sarcastic. I’ll be honest with you.

Emojis

The first rule of Xurkitips club is that we don’t talk about Emoji Movie. Just putting that out there riiight now.

Used sparingly by most for fun and for emphasis. Characters may use them to be lighthearted, aesthetically, joke, or to make a conversation more flavorful. The use of emojis may determine a character’s personality; I find that characters who use hand emojis like 👌 are rather laid back, those who use 🙃 do it passive aggressively, and we all know what kind of person uses 🍆.

Then there’s what in common terms known as, “The DudeBro”:

[MFKNSTARBOI]: the thing i never undstood about hair is why people buy shampoo like regular soap not good enough for you LMAO 😂😂😂

[gostones]: .

[BIGDICKTOYOTA69]: what the fuck man

[ahogekun]: do... you not use shampoo

[MFKNSTARBOI]: aaaah you guys got sucked into big shampoo as well 😔

[MFKNSTARBOI]: When it comes to horses 🐎 the stars in the sky ✨ or just man to man no bullshit advice 👬 IM youre guy 😤😂

I think this one speaks for itself.

#writing advice #milo's writing advice #writing tips #CRY THROUGH😭💦💦THE PAIN😢😩😩BUT KEEP GOING👀💯💪THE HUSTLE 😈👌NEVER ENDS🕛🕧🕟🚫STUDENT ATHLE

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deadmanzp · 4 years

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aftg asks; questions by triquetrine

these are so interesting so i did all of them.. i want to come back after a year and see if id still answer the same!

op is the post before this or also tagged “misc”

neil josten: favorite/most iconic line?

first one that comes to mind I’m not sure is a favorite or iconic line? but it’s a line i think about a lot and it always hurts to read. it’s when they're at the cabin in TKM.

“He didn’t care how much it hurt so long as he could pull Andrew closer, and he let Andrew take him apart until he couldn’t think anymore.”

that comes at the very end of Chapter 14 and gosh just the paragraph that line comes from and the paragraph before…. the fact neil thinks andrew doesnt care about him the way he cares/feels about andrew is like….. CMON MAN but also i just love the pining angst of it. i like this line especially because the line right before it mentions neil working his “bandaged fingers into Andrew’s hair”. so the “he didnt care how much it hurt” to me always carried a double meaning of 1. the physical pain he felt bc of his injuries but also 2. the pain of unfamiliarity abt his feelings towards andrew and thinking it was unreciprocal AND THAT HED HAVE TO “WARN” ANDREW like the implication.. of neil thinking abt their “relationship” possibly ending bc andrew doesnt feel the same and maybe wouldnt want to be entangled in whatever neil was feeling …… IM LIKE neil knows andrew so well and him being so sure abt this but hes like …. WRONG …. e

nathaniel wesninski: one thing you would change about the books? (plot, characters, etc)

there is very little id change about the books if at all. mainly bc while i know there are upsetting things that happen/the charas do, i think all of those things make the series really interesting to analyze and talk about. i will say a moment i hated was when neil touches andrews scars when andrew makes it clear he doesn't want neil to pry about them. i know neil offers his scars in turn when he's trying to convince andrew to let neil look over kevin but that was controlled. he let andrew touch them and find out about them of his own volition. neil touches something directly related to the trauma andrew had just experienced again when he had 0 permission to do so. while i always get mad at neil for this when i read it i still dont think id change it or get rid of it. im not really sure how id change it anyways and i think andrews relationship with his scars (and himself in general) is probably what allows him to brush it off(?)/never bring this up (plus maybe neil offering his scars was enough for andrew) but i havent thought too hard about this. but ya i remember i got rlly angry w neil the first time i read this scene and i still get mad abt it when i reread.

andrew minyard: if you could be friends with one of the characters, who would you pick?

i mean realistically i wouldnt be friends w jocks ILL BE REAL LOL and i think as much as i love the monsters, theres no way id be friends w them haha uhm but prob dan would be most realistic! maybe even katelyn tbh..

kevin day: if you played exy, what would your position be?

oh i think dealer! in sports i liked being able to do both defense and offense bc it made me feel i had more control over the field, like i could always do something if there were any holes

dan wilds: favorite moment/scene?

definitely the hotel reunion scene. theres so much to it; it drives me nuts!!!!! but honestly there are probably a lot of really good moments im forgetting. to me the whole series is really enjoyable and every scene has something i could say about it haha

matt boyd: song you would love to see in a live-action adaptation?

Oggghh this is so hard… esp since it takes place in 2007???? Idk.. iconic artists then i suppose ghfgkjhf BUT i think general vibes i think itd be so cool if paramore (time relevant), ptv (also time relevant), and mitski were on the soundtrack……. Ya……..

nicky hemmick: which made you more emotional, neil at evermore or neil in baltimore?

neil in baltimore for sure… neil at evermore i can't remember what i felt the first time i read it (maybe pain LOL bc he was doing it for andrew and i felt like riko wouldnt keep his promise) but in my latest reread i was unimpressed by it (mostly bc i think riko is boring and unimpressive). i think i mightve said evermore in the past though….. maybe... neil in baltimore is like … GOD neils emotions are so strong during all of that its really juicy haha. i think like him being angry bc he was on the cusp of having everything he couldve ever dreamed of; the desperation of wanting to fight back and get away; even just the fear of being in the same room as his father for the first time in so long... all really juicy

aaron minyard: a character you will defend to your death?

defend…. im not sure is the word i would use and i dont think i really believe in defending any of these charas “to death” bc of how flawed and complex they are; id like to acknowledge when they did wrong. i think id “defend” any of the characters if i saw anyone misinterpreting or misunderstanding them.. theyre all really interesting even if they didnt get too much spotlight. except maybe riko. hes incredibly boring to me. and also nathan ig and any of his crew just bc there is Nothing abt them rlly...

katelyn: which minor character do you wish you could see more of?

uhhhmmmmmmmm hmmmmmm….. idk maybe… jeremy…. gjfjgkdngmdghs just bc him and kevin r so funny.. i was thinking maybe jean too but…… idk a diff kind of kevin relationship lol (yikes) (pain) but really im satisfied w jeans screen time. i think ichirou is interesting but again i think he didn't rlly need more. maybe erik actually. im interested to know what nicky is like with him :0

allison reynolds: favorite headcanon about the foxes?

actually something i recently thought abt was neil and photography. iirc? andrew gives neil a camera in the ec and i also imagine kevin eventually gets another camera too (i loved that detail when we saw his room at the nest) so i thought abt neil and kevin sharing/trading pics they take of (mainly) scenery. i imagine neil takes pics of anything he wants to remember/keep while kevin is more prone to taking pics of subjects related to some nerd history stuff (lol) so thats why they trade scenery pics mainly. but i like this small connection bc i want more to their relationship than their exy obsession and i imagine they have room for more now that riko is gone and i just like this other commonality btwn them. i think maybe they mail the developed pics to each other maybe w small descripts/notes but thats it. and i also imagine it kind of just is something that started happening.. neil and andrew r on a roadtrip and some building reminds neil of kevin so he snaps a pic and eventually sends it to kevin w some note. kevin replies 1. either a text being like that is nothing. > neil: shrugs brushes it off but figures he is welcome to send more when kevin sends his own picture back or 2. kevin simply replies back similarly w his own photo. i dont know.. maybe this goes beyond what their actual relationship would be like but i do like the idea of them just bein like… dude friends u know so i want them to have more than just exy and a traumatizing experience between them.

as for common headcanons within the fanbase…. i do like the allison + neil haircuts thing.. although im not sure if i imagine it the same as most haha i feel neil would know how to cut his own hair from his life on the run (though theyre not Good or bad just like ok u know like passable generic w/e) i think hed definitely be tense the first couple times but he has experience w allison being close from needing to be covered up w make up after winter break so i think she would be allowed.

renee walker: favorite non-canonical ship? (renison, jerejean, etc)

uhmm to be honest none really… im way too attached to canon to be able to dismiss any established relationships. i think kevemy (??? is that the name) is rlly amusing but i dont want them together necessarily haha i used to rlly like renison mainly bc im a lesbian and i want “main” chara wlw relationships lol but i recently read something abt how bi allison doesnt rlly sit well w some bc she outs andrew and neil during the hotel scene.. i also agree this is kinda :/ if she was bi Mainly bc i feel a lot of ppl (or at least this is what i gather from renison stuff ive seen) portray allison already being established bi? if this makes sense. i think if renison/allison realizing shes bi is a later development id feel better abt it but usually renison is already established so ya her outing them does bother me…. BUT aside from this, thinking about them as characters and what their partners (would) look like… im not sure if theyd rlly choose each other.. but i still enjoy seeing them together in art and in fic bc in the end…. im a sucker for women lol….

seth gordon: most underrated dynamic? (matt & neil, wymack & andrew, etc)

my first thought was wymack and andrew bc i rlllllyy like their dynamic especially after reading their ec stuff. i loved their first meeting (andrews terrible sandwich??!?fhdhfjd) and when andrew breaks into wymacks apartment BUT i think ppl mention them enough its not underrated. i Actually think renee and andrews dynamic/friendship is rlly underrated/overlooked!!! especially after reading the son nefes ec i love their dynamic a lot…

some son nefes moments of them i liked: tw // rape

renee convincing andrew to go with her to see matt after his trip to edens

how many knives do u carry / one more than u IS SO FUNNY and just andrews persistence abt fighting renee is also rlly funny to me

tw // rape : the moment when andrew asks renee if she killed her rapist/abuser that whole convo was good…

their convo in the rain w their tea

i cant remember when this happens or rlly exaclty what was said but renee offers andrew something (some help??) and he says i dont need (w/e it was) and she says something along the lines of i know but it wouldnt do any harm or SOMETHING like that.. i like this bc she acknowledges their abilities while showing shed still like to offer some help. im p sure she does this another time too (w neil???? or someone i cant remember maybe it was andrew again) and i remember liking it too. she has a way w words and talking (also seen in her convincing andrew to see matt)

BUT regardless of ec stuff i think their relationship/dynamic seen in the books is rlly good too. theres def enough to be intrigued by them and i always have been? so i'm reeeaallly happy son nefes exists i loved reading it..

david wymack: which ncaa team would you play for?

oh to be honest i dont rlly remember many of them but of the Three (ravens, foxes, trojans) prob trojans. i remember i even got them in a uquiz once…

abby winfield: which character was the most realistically written?

first that came to mind was aaron actually.. i remember before when i didnt rlly like him or care abt him it was actually bc he was too “boring” to me. i always thought he had the most realistic reactions to things which is what made him boring to me amidst the ridiculousness of, well, everything in aftg lol… i still think he is really realistically written but now i dont think hes boring haha

besty dobson: how many times have you read the series?

fully i think…. only 3 times… i wish this were a higher count but i actually feel guilty everytime i try to reread it.

riko moriyama: coolest exy moment? (kevin’s last-minute point against the ravens, andrew shutting down the goal, etc)

uhhmm uhmm i def think kevin during the final game against the ravens…. hes so cool haha but i KNOW there were a lot of game moments that i thought were really cool so i cant rlly say…. oh also i love neil being defense in that game too rlly juicy wish i could pull up obscure moments bc i know i rlly enjoyed reading the games but terrible memory...

jeremy knox: which do you like reading more, domestic!foxes or chaotic!foxes?

uh i guess chaotic? not rlly sure exactly what that could entail but i do like… their chaos.. when they have fights and squabbles and stuff… this includes the high tension moments. ALTHOUGH i do like the tiny lines in the books when we see the monsters just doing like random basic everyday life stuff like playing video games or whatever. i like…. imagining them... fhdjfjshfjs… as for fic def chaos. i feel domestic is usually too softened…..

jean moreau: favorite friendship?

oh i think this goes back to andrew and renee. but other than them… i do like neil and matts friendship.. though probably not the same as its typically portrayed

#my own #misc

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aloneandunreal · 4 years

Text

june 30, 20

back again. last time i posted - i forget when it was - i believe june 28th? doesn’t matter. anyway, i’ve, for awhile now, realized that i put in way more effort in a lot of my friendships than the other does (which i have very little of in the first place; friends). i know i shouldn’t expect the same treatment back; i’ve always been a generous person, and not everyone is like that. but sometimes it’s hard. like when someone doesn’t reply to me for six days but still posts regularly. i get that you can forget things, but i always try to reply on time and apologize if my reply is incredibly late. maybe it’s just because i don’t have many friends, don’t have much of a life, and hardly get texts. i’m always the one reaching out. for example, i am friends with this girl, and i’ve texted her multiple times trying to start conversation but it always seems to go dead. i always try to keep conversations going, with follow up questions, etc. but i guess some people don’t get or do that. which is what i did with her, but it always, always seems to go dead after 5 text messages between the both of us. it’s sad, and i wonder if it’s because i’m boring or a burden. or maybe i’m just asking for too much. so now of course, because of quarantine and us not texting, we’re, once again, growing apart. i really have tried to keep our friendship going, but it always seems to flop. even after the first MONTH of quarantine, i felt less close with her. only a month. so i wonder what’s going to happen to us by august. i know i sound like a downer, but i’ve been trying to communicate with her - it’s just hard when you’re usually the only one putting in effort. she’ll always be a friend, someone there for me. we’ve been on/off friends for years now. we get each other a birthday gift every year, even if we don’t talk, and i know she’ll always be there for me. but she’s just that friend i can’t quite grasp and i don’t know if i ever will. she has her whole friend group anyway, which is fine, i wouldn’t exactly want to be apart of it anyway. but as i’ve said in previous entries, i’m always that “separate” friend. the friend everyone takes their angst or sadness out on. then act amazing and happy with their other friend. with this friend i’ve been talking about, she told me that i was “the only one she tells her problems to” which was nice at first, but then i realized i’m the only one who has to deal with this - being her therapist. i’m okay with that, but it’s irking knowing none of her other friends have to deal with this. and she’s better friends with them than me. i guess i’m just that friend who everyone knows to go to for advice or just to rant. which is okay! i like giving advice and helping people. but sometimes i wish i wasn’t the one who everyone took out their moodiness on. like i had this one friend, who is actually one of my close friends, she has since moved but that’s not the point, but last year when i saw her face-to-face she wouldn’t always be the nicest. she’d take her moodiness on me, sometimes would be mean. but then with her other friends would act normal. do you get what i’m saying? i’m the outsider friend. never #1. i just want to be that special person to someone.

it has always been hard for me to make friends. i don’t want to completely blame it on my social anxiety, but that’s a large factor. i’ve had small friend groups throughout the years, but that ended in 8th grade. now i just have a couple good friends, and a decent amount of mutuals - people i talk to at school sometimes but don’t speak to outside of school or at all some days. i get sad sometimes realizing i’ll have to deal with this mental illness for my entire life. yes, there are things i can do to help myself be less anxious, but it won’t ever disappear. social anxiety just seriously sucks. i can’t do “normal people” things and it’s hard for me to make friends or speak up for myself. i don’t know how i’m going to make it in life - in college. and that’s only next year. i’m terrified. i want to practice doing things i’m anxious to do, like ordering food for myself and other “normal people” things... but it’s scary to me. a lot of people would think this is dumb, and yes, it is. but it’s just how i am. i would express this to people i know, but i’m sure they’d think i was crazy worrying about things they do every day, no big deal. this entry i am just going to talk about my issues with being social and friends, but i still wanted to mention the fact that i am scared of being out in the real world.

sometimes i feel as if my friends think i have more friends than i actually do. that’s a confusing sentence to read - but let me try and explain it. i have this one good friend who i text often, well not as much anymore since quarantine, and i feel like she assumes i have a decent amount of friends when in reality i don’t. i don’t think she understands or realizes how alone i am. i don’t get tons of texts and i’m not in group chats like other people are. and she’d probably think i’m weird if i told her she’s one of my only good friends.

and it’s not like i haven’t tried making friends. i have, but we either lose touch or our friendship doesn’t get any farther than talking at school. there’s people at school who i talk to, but no one i talk to outside of school. i haven’t given someone my phone number in such a long time. and sometimes i’m okay with being alone. i don’t need a huge friend group or anything. it would just be nice to have more than one good friend.

one of my friends, the girl i was talking about a few paragraphs above, talks to me and tells me about her group of friends and how they play games together and FaceTime while doing so. i’m sure if i wanted to do that with her i could ask and she’d gladly say yes. but it’s just that i hate FaceTime for some reason. which absolutely sucks because so many people love it nowadays. i just hate having to look at myself and see how i speak - i’m so insecure that even on FaceTime calls i’m forced to do, i try not to talk as much as possible because i hate the way i look when i speak. then of course is the whole thing with talking. i don’t want things to be awkward. will we just be staring at each other the whole time? and the same goes with not only FaceTime calls but also regular phone calls. i’m better with phone calls, though. still don’t like doing either. i like texting because i can re-read what i wrote unlike in real life where if i say something dumb there’s no way i can take it back. i also like speaking in real life though because i don’t have to see my face and the way i look when i speak. it’s complicated. just wishing i could be a normal teenager for once. live my high school years like a lot of others seem to be doing. not the stereotypical stuff like going to parties, yada yada. stuff like playing video games with friends - that’s better than sitting in your room at night writing entries on tumblr that nobody cares to read about. haha, bet you can guess who i’m talking about.

it’s just very hard. there’s times when i’m okay with being lonely, but there’s other times where it makes me feel really bad about myself - the fact i hardly have friends. another example i have is from earlier this year in my french class. i knew for a fact this was going to happen, but was still upset when it ended up happening. basically, we were having a mardi gras party and were eating food and playing games. i’d been dreading this, even though it was supposed to be fun. everyone was sitting together with their friends, mingling and all. except for me. originally, this freshman in my class sat with me, but got up once he saw his friends. so i just sat there alone looking awkward. it wasn’t the fact i had no one to talk to (well i guess that’s a factor), but it was the fact that i just looked so awkward and alone. everyone was probably looking at me like “yeah, not surprised ava’s sitting alone.” incidents like this haven’t just happened once. they’ve happened many times! and it makes me sad. i remember texting my one good friend and she just thought it was funny, but in reality i genuinely felt so bad about myself. i didn’t tell her that, though, because in her mind it probably wasn’t a big deal. and honestly it wasn’t. but after things like this happen more than once or twice, it starts to hurt. i could’ve joined a group, yeah, but everyone was in their little friend groups and i didn’t want to be a burden and ruin that. it’s not like i’d talk to them, anyway. but yeah, as i said above, there are so many different incidents of this. one being, for the first two years of high school, i sat completely alone at lunch. there was a group of friends who sat next to me but they didn’t include me (not that they had to) and they’d be laughing, telling jokes as i sat there awkwardly watching whatever i was watching. it’s just sad. i really wish there were people out there with the same dilemma as me, but it’d be rare to find. yeah, there are tons of lonely people out there. but there’s likely not a person who’s "problem” is similar to mine.

all in all, i just feel lonely sometimes. sometimes i don’t even care about having friends - it’s just the fact that i want it to appear as if i have friends. i don’t want people to think i’m this lonely weird girl. i also wish the friends i had appreciated me more and put in more effort. yes, there are times when they do appreciate me of course, but i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who gives the same amount of effort as i do. which is fine! but sometimes, as i said, i want to be a special friend, a “#1″ to somebody. there’s always one... or two... or three... people above me. always. i haven’t had a best friend in years. and my one good friend now... i don’t even know if she’d consider me her best friend. and i’m too scared to ask. i don’t want her to say yes just because she pities me. i also just feel like a total disappointment to my parents - i wish i could do more and be the child they wanted. one that had a decent amount of friends, a normal working brain. a child who good do normal things like everyone else. but nah, they got me instead.

there’s just so much stuff i am worried about. so much it’s sometimes hard to put into words. there’s things i’m anxious about that i can’t even put in words sometimes because they’re so difficult to explain. things like this have truly made me hate myself. not only am i insecure about the way i look, but i also am insecure about basically everything else that makes me ‘me.’ i wish things could’ve been different. maybe in a different lifetime. i’ve done things to try and fix myself, i specifically remember feeling so lonely in 7th grade, and i tried making friends, but everyone seemed to push me away. i guess i’m just not trying hard enough. but i don’t want to try hard. i just want to be likable and easily make friends. but obviously that’s impossible for someone like me.

sometimes i’ll be talking to someone, having a decent conversation, and this thing will happen to me - i don't know how to explain it - where i’ll see myself from another perspective; my annoying voice, my stupid stories, how boring i am. and it’ll make me want to shut up and never speak to anyone ever again. there’s times i want to drop all of my friends (which aren’t many in the first place) for no reason - sometimes i feel like i am just destined to be alone. i just want to feel like i belong. i want people to like me. i want to be an interesting person. instead i’m just boring and stupid for thinking someone enjoys my company. people have said to me, adults, that “maybe people want to talk to you, but are too afraid to approach you. they may think you’re stuck up or don’t want to talk just because you’re quiet” and okay, that may be true. but i think of myself as a very kind and warm person - not intimidating at all. why would people be afraid to speak to someone like me? i’m not cool, even if it looks like that on the outside. i’m truly just a loser. there’s nothing interesting about me. i talk about the same five things, i’m not good at anything, and when people ask me what i like to do? it’s hard to say. because i don’t do much. i had a family member ask my mother what my sister liked to do, and she told him. then he asked, “what about ava? does she do anything?” and i feel like my mom couldn’t come up with anything. i don’t do any clubs, sports, and i don’t have many hobbies. because i’m not good at anything and am too nervous to join a club or something of that sort. and i’m always reminded of that by my parents - like yes, i know i need to find something i like to do. something that’s a “real hobby” according to them. i like writing, but obviously don’t show what i write to them, so they just pretend that doesn’t exist just because they don’t see it.

i’m so uncool and it’s obvious. there may be people who think i’m “cool” but i am not. as i said, i am a loser. i’m remembering i was friends with this really cool girl who was friends with the other “cool kids” (or, kids i thought were cool at the time)... that was a group i always wanted to be apart of. but she never seemed to include me in it. i was - as mentioned many times previously - always the secondary friend. never apart of the cool kids group. maybe because i was too ugly (they all seemed to be attractive), or perhaps i was too weird or not interesting enough for them. i’ll never know. they’re long gone now, graduated over three years ago when i was a freshman. i wonder who the cool kids are now that i’m going to be a senior. there’s always that one “cool kid” group. or what i consider cool. nonetheless, i’ll never be apart of it so there’s no need to dwell on it.

things are just so difficult at the moment. this is incredibly long but that’s because this is a topic i could go on about forever. i keep thinking of new things i want to add, and it makes me even more sad thinking of them. it may seem like i am not trying, and in some areas i admit i’m not. but certain things i truly am trying, but i guess it isn’t enough. maybe it’ll never be enough.

i suppose i’ll end this now, it’s already an essay basically. to end it, i guess i’ll just say that i wish i was someone else. but it’s too late to fix myself now. people already know me as who i am and i can’t change that now. even if i wish to do so.

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freevoidman · 7 years

Text

Prompto Week ① DAY 1 (10/19): Favorite Scene ★ Brotherhood

Summary: Noctis has a new friend named Prompto, but is terrified to lose him once he’s vetted. He keeps his friendship a secret for as long as he can manage, but not everything can stay secret forever

Noctis knows the drill by now.

Whenever he finds a new friend, his father and some members of the Kingsglaive execute a stupidly extensive vetting process, and a personal ‘interview’ of sorts with Ignis. If they pass the vetting and Ignis sees no ill-will that can potentially be directed at Noctis, then they stay. If not, then Ignis does his best to intimidate them, and Noctis is expected to keep away. Since this process takes about two weeks (give or take a couple days, depending upon the person), he normally doesn’t get attached, and see a person’s true colors, so he’ll know when to get away.

He’s expected to immediately ‘report’ any new friend to Ignis. And, really, most of the time it just… happens. Ignis says, “Anything interesting today?” And Noctis will just tell him damn near anything under the sun, which teachers pissed him off, what homework was annoying, how the jocks embarrassed the nerds at lunch, and all the other cliches. Then Ignis reports to his dad, dad, in turn, to the Kingsglaive, and the process starts.

But then Prompto comes into the picture, and Noctis has to make a very uncomfortable choice.

See, Prompto is all honesty. Upfront, he’s kind and generous, and he never asks Noctis for anything. Even when Prompto eyes Noctis’ discarded lunch vegetables, he waits for permission to eat them.

Even then, he asks, “You’re sure?”

It takes another confirmation from Noctis before Prompto chows down the lettuce and tomatoes.

Prompto is quiet and loud at the same time. He doesn’t talk over Noctis, waiting for him to say his peace or end his rant. He anxiously asks for a photo at the end of the day, and even then it’s not a selfie—it’s just a photo of the Prince flicking his pencil up and down the desk. He agrees, and it’s hardly something that can be used for blackmail or sold to the Nifs for info: it’s a photo of the revered prince acting like, well, a bored student.

Noctis is the one that gives Prompto his phone number, telling him that they can talk later about the algebra homework. Neither of them really understands what’s happening in that class, and he hopes that the two of them can puzzle through most of the homework to get it right.

The reaction is not the one he expects. Prompto shakes his head halfway through and holds up his hands. “You don’t need to give me your number!”

“Uh…” Noctis takes a moment to process this. “Don’t you want my number?”

“No! I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that—you giving me your number, I mean, but wouldn’t your security or whatever be upset?”

Noctis shrugs. “I mean, I guess? They’re not going to look through my phone and hunt you down.”

Prompto laughs nervously, but he relents and exchanges numbers with Noctis. When the last bell rings, they pack up, and Prompto pats him on the back. It’s obvious by his expression that the action took a fair amount of courage, so Noctis laughs and punches Prompto’s arm in retaliation.

It feels… good. He doesn’t feel like a blue blood; he feels like a teen who’s finally been allowed to live his life.

And he doesn’t want to lose this feeling.

“Anything interesting today?” Ignis asks as Noct slides into the passenger’s seat.

“Nah, nothing really.” And they drive away.

~*^*~

He keeps it under wraps for about two months.

In that time, Noctis learns a lot about Prompto—more than he’s ever learned about someone… normal, he guesses. The summary is that they have a crazy amount in common: they both have similar tastes in comics, movies, and video games. Both have played through the Assassin’s Creed series and all of the King’s Knight console games. They have the mobile game, and quickly make a guild with each other, reaping the benefits of playing together.

Even the stuff they don’t share, they can appreciate. Noct looks at Prom’s photos and comments on each and every one, showering him in compliments (which he really, really deserves more of). Prompto listens to Noctis talk about fishing and asks him questions like, “What’s the best lure to attract the fish around here?” and, “What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever caught?”

He’s even managed to avoid Ignis’ watchful eye. Every time he stays over at Prompto’s house (the first visit happens around the end of the first month), he says he’s staying after school for a club. It helps that Prompto’s house is a five-minute walk away, if you cut through the back streets.

Prompto’s house is empty and feels vacant, and each time he tries to pry, Prom simply says that his parents are working, or just out for the time being. Most of the house is medically sterile, as if Prompto doesn’t want to disturb anything. It’s obvious that someone other than Prompto lives there, since the furniture doesn’t match Prompto’s personality at all. It puts Noctis on edge, to say the least.

He has seen pictures of Prompto’s parents framed in the hallway and there are a few more hanging in Prompto’s room. But they’re few and far between, compared to the innumerable shots of landscapes and random people. There’s a smiling woman with flowing blonde hair and a man who looks a bit rough around the edges, with a teasing glint in his eyes. They look happy.

The story at home is anything but.

So Noct makes an effort to talk to him more, to visit more, to text more, to show that he cares. He manages to get the date of Prompto’s birthday, and goes nuts trying to think of a present. He looks online for the best camera available in Insomnia, and purchases an incredibly expensive one, with features he barely comprehends.

Prompto’s face is absolutely priceless. His eyes are wet with tears as he says, “You didn’t have to do this!”

“But I wanted to.” Noctis playfully rolls his eyes. “C’mon, don’t make me have to explain to my dad why I got a wicked expensive camera out of the blue.”

Prompto accepts the box, holding it like it’s made of glass. He secures it in his locker and doesn’t open it for the rest of the day. Noctis follows him home, watching as Prompto fawns over the camera with a reverent gaze.

It’s easily the happiest he has ever seen Prompto, and it’s almost enough to make him cry.

Maybe Ignis takes note of his changed behavior, maybe not. Either way, he doesn’t comment about Noctis’ sudden fixation with the phone, or how he won’t talk about his day, or the occasional smile Noctis gets while staring off into space. Maybe he just takes it as Noctis being a moody teenager going through a phase.

All that he cares about is that Ignis never finds out, because he dreads abandoning Prompto. It’s his first real friend, one based on true camaraderie and no exploitation whatsoever, and he doesn’t want to lose that to a background check.

When it did crash down around him, though, it was in the worst way possible. He gets a text from Ignis halfway through last period, telling him that a series of meetings he had to attend had been moved, and that he would need to leave school early to attend. He curses, scrambling for his work, shouts an apology over his shoulder to the teacher, and sprints out of the school. He knows Ignis: that text means he’s waiting in front of the school, and if he doesn’t hurry, Ignis’ll be pissed.

So who can blame him if he forgets something in his haste? It happens.

And it just so happens that what he forgets is his phone, and that alone is a massive problem for obvious reasons. What makes it worse is that, when Ignis pulls away from the school, Prompto appears out of nowhere and throws himself in front of the car to stop it. There’s a dull thud as Prompto is hit. He falls to the ground with a grimace.

Ignis’ quick reflexes keep Prompto from being run over, and Noct is scrabbling for the door handle before he fully processes what’s happening. “Your highness—!”

“It’s fine, Ignis.” Noctis calls over his shoulder, and he’s at Prompto’s side. The other teen is holding his knee and hissing, and Noctis feels a hot stab of guilt in his stomach. “Shit, Prom, you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Prompto manages to push himself up so that he’s sitting. “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.”

“Why did you—?”

“Oh, yeah.” Prompto reaches for his blazer pocket and pulls out a familiar black phone with a moogle sticker coated phone case (courtesy of Iris). “You left your phone on your desk.”

He can feel his cheeks flush, and Noctis takes his phone with a small, “Thanks.”

A cough from behind makes Noctis turn his head. He meets Ignis’ steely gaze surprisingly well. Prompto, however, tenses on the ground. “Um…”

“Noctis,” Ignis chooses to ignore Prompto. “We need to go.”

He’s half tempted to snark back, say that the royal snobs at the Citadel can shove a broadsword up their asses because Prompto’s hurt, but he also knows that it’s an uphill battle. Instead, Noctis bites his tongue and nods, helping Prompto to his feet and to the sidewalk. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yep!” Comes Prompto’s cheery reply, and Noctis can’t help but smile back. “Text ya later?”

Noctis can feel Ignis drilling holes in the back of his head. “Yeah, I’ll text you first.”

He watches Prompto hobble back to the school building. He studiously ignores Ignis’ tense posture as he drives to the Citadel, his fingers twitching and gripping the wheel a bit too tightly.

Of course everything comes crashing down because of his stupid phone.

~*^*~

He waits until Ignis starts cooking dinner before pulling out his phone to text Prompto. He worries his lip as he thinks of what to say, planning paragraphs in his head before eventually settling on something short and to the point. A quick apology, and then he turns it off and puts it on the coffee table. He knows that Ignis will look through it later, to double check that no secrets have been wheedled out of him, so it’s best to apologize now and hope that nothing Prompto would say will raise any red flags.

He waits a minute for a reply, but quickly realizes that the lack of activity is bound to attract Ignis, so he pulls out his history homework and takes vague notes as he waits. When the phone does ding, he doesn’t look at it, instead feigning disinterest as he ‘works’.

He loses himself for a minute, thinking about what’s going to come next. It all depends upon what the Glaive finds and what Ignis thinks personally

“Noct.”

Plus, if he can convince Ignis that Prompto isn’t a threat, then the odds of getting him to hang around skyrocket.

“Coming.” He calls back and stands, grimacing at the vegetable-covered plate in front of his seat. “Really?”

“A fitting punishment, all things considered.” Ignis says as he settles down to eat, sticking the corner of his napkin underneath his shirt collar and picking up the appropriate kitchenware for eating a festive salad. “If you prefer something else, then by all means, the kitchen is yours.”

Noctis narrows his eyes and stalks into the kitchen. He grabs the kettle that he shoved into the corner some months ago and fills it with water before turning on the stove. He puts it on the stove with a touch more force than needed, and he considers Ignis’ flinch at the bang a victory. He grabs a Cup Noodle from the cabinet and a pair of chopsticks and waits for the kettle to whistle. “Nothing bad happened.”

“But it could’ve.” Ignis turned to look at him. “That could’ve simply been a ploy to get you out of the car. Anything could’ve happened, especially since you don’t have your weapon on hand and I was busy making sure no traffic would hit the car.”

“It’s Prompto. The day Prompto is an undercover Niff spy that was sent here to kill me is the day you take the stick out of your ass.”

“So his name is Prompto, then?”

Noctis throws his hands in the air. “He’s not a threat!”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I would, considering how many other mooches have saddled up to me.”

Ignis’ jaw tenses, and they stare each other down. “I hope you’re aware of the repercussions of your actions.”

“I am.” The kettle whistles, and Noctis takes it off the stove before pouring it into his Cup Noodle. He grabs the flavor packet and chopsticks and stomps to his room. “And I don’t regret a damn thing.”

#Prompto Week #promptoweek #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Prompto Argentum #Ignis Stupeo Scientia #Ignis Scientia #That awkward moment when u haven't watched brotherhood but don't want to just rewrite ur favorite scene #Also that awkward moment when u typically write in past tense but torture urself by writing in present tense #I also have like seven other homework assignments to do but I don't give a fuck

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