#//and people are pretty good about not stepping on him whenever they're near his house

[mechahero]

//Forgot to add: Steve lives in a little grotto in part of the downstairs area :>

[tj-dragonblade]

[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

Rated: T Word Count: 4551 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, rain, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, song-based meet-cute, clumsy metaphors

Notes: This is springboarding entirely from Bus Stop by The Hollies; shoutout to @valeriianz for suggesting this song would make a great Dreamling fic many many months ago. I thought Fluffbruary Day 3 would be a good opportunity to bang it out real quick but uh. It didn't want to flow, so I've just been rolling additional days into it all month. Also went a wee bit off-script from the song but. I'm pleased enough with what it's turned out to be. Prompts listed at the end.

Summary: Bus stop, wet day, he's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'

On AO3

It's the first day of the new term and the sky is overcast, threatening rain as Hob steps off the bus at his connecting stop. He's got his umbrella and his overcoat and his bag is water-resistant; his stop on the other end is very near the college and he's feeling well-prepared should the weather follow through on its threat.

Which of course it does, not half a minute later, and Hob deploys his umbrella with a sigh. There are a handful of other people waiting at the stop who do the same.

And one who does not.

He's pale and pretty, and tall, and dark—dark trousers, dark peacoat, dark hair, which is well on its way to getting thoroughly soaked as the skies open up in earnest. He appears to be lacking an umbrella entirely. Hob, who these days makes conscious effort to be a Good Samaritan whenever he can, and who also maybe thinks that attractively-pale men dressed in black who forget their umbrellas are worth at least a 'hello', moves quickly.

"Share my umbrella? Please." He's holding it over the guy as he speaks, but they'll have to squish up a bit to get maximum benefit for either of them.

"…Thank you," the guy says, shuffling closer; their shoulders touch. He is stiff, awkward, and yeah okay Hob can understand; courtesy in rainy weather or not, they're still complete strangers.

"Hell of a day to forget your umbrella, yeah?" Hob rolls his shoulders and shifts, putting himself more or less back-to-back with the guy so they fit better.

"Quite," comes the answer. His voice is low and rumbly, pleasantly dark without being bass-deep; it's oddly appealing.

Hob shrugs. "We've all been there. And hey, I'm glad to share."

"Again. Thank you." There's a touch more warmth this time, and Hob smiles to himself.

They pass a moment in silence, save for the drumming of rain against the umbrella and the splashing of cars in the street, and then the bus is pulling up to the stop. The guy steps toward it, first in line, and Hob follows with the umbrella, then lets the other three people board ahead of him.

Which means, once he's boarded and tapped in, the only open seat is serendipitously next to his slightly-soggy goth stranger. Who makes eye contact and holds it as Hob approaches, scoots just that little bit closer to the window to make clear he doesn't mind Hob taking the seat beside him, and Hob is quietly thrilled at the subtle welcome.

"Are you a conversationalist, or a ride-in-silence enthusiast?" he asks, as the bus lurches into motion.

"Ordinarily, the latter," the guy admits, glancing briefly at Hob. "But, as I stormed out with neither book nor earbuds, and I find myself with a chivalrous seat partner, perhaps I could be persuaded to the former just this once."

"Very kind, thank you," Hob says, with a smile. "'Stormed out' doesn't sound promising; feel like unburdening to a friendly ear? I'd be happy to listen, if so. Or find something else entirely to talk about if not."

His stranger turns to the window, watching the rivulets of rain trailing over the glass; there is a brief lull before he speaks. "I find myself creatively blocked, and my sister's attempts to be helpful. Were not." He sighs. "I left the house to clear my head, before saying anything truly unkind."

"Smart," Hob agrees. He could listen to this guy talk all day, his rumbly words and his dark-velvety voice.

"'Smart' would have been making certain to grab more than just my phone and wallet." There's a pretty little scowl accompanying the words, that rosy mouth plumped out in the faintest pout visible in his reflection in the window, and Hob is smitten.

"That may be, but then I'd hardly have had reason to say hello, and we'd both be sitting here reading our books politely ignoring one another. Silver lining?"

"Perhaps," the guy says, but it sounds agreeable enough. Hob likes to think he's a decent judge of unspoken communication and that he could tell if he was being a bother. Currently his stranger is glancing over Hob's bag and his attire with a curious and observant eye, posture reserved but not closed off, and Hob figures he's doing alright.

"Where are you headed, then—work?" the guy asks.

"Yeah, I teach at the college, medieval history, now and then a class in medieval lit too."

The guy's attention goes from merely polite to genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"Yep!" Hob's heart rate bumps up a notch at the light in those (gorgeous) blue eyes; the sudden intensity of this stranger's focus is heady.

He's turned in his seat, angled to somewhat face Hob, gaze bright, expression open. "I imagine that is a difficult sell to many students."

"Oh my friend, you have no idea!" Delighted with his good fortune, Hob launches into tales of his most recalcitrant classes and the victories he's won in inciting and maintaining student interest. He's good at talking, and enjoys doing it, and this pretty stranger is paying genuine attention to him, and so Hob prattles on enthusiastically as the bus trundles steadily through the rain.

~ "This is me," Hob says, as the bus pulls up to the college stop. "It was delightful chatting with you, and I hope your day improves from here!"

"It already has, thank you."

The tiny smile that the stranger offers in parting buoys Hob's spirits all the way to his office.

~ Tuesday is miserably wet again and Hob checks for his stranger at the bus stop, hopeful (yes alright, perhaps he's got a bit of a crush), but there's no sign of him. It's earlier than it was yesterday though, on account of his 8 a.m. lecture this morning, so there's no reason to think he'd be there again. Plus he'd talked about 'storming out' and 'clearing his head'; it wasn't like this stop was a daily transfer point the way it was for Hob.

Chances were good they'd never cross paths again.

~ Wednesday it's less a downpour and more a light shower, but it's still enough that an umbrella is practical.

And Hob is absolutely delighted as he steps off his first bus to see that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emo is there again, and again without an umbrella, hunched ineffectually into the collar of his coat and resembling nothing so much as a disgruntled wet cat. He perks up distinctly as Hob approaches with his umbrella angled forward in offering.

"You gallantly come to my rescue yet again." He tilts his head and glances up through lush black lashes, just this side of coy. "I thank you, sincerely, Mr…?"

"Hob, I'm Hob. Just Hob. You can call me Hob." Not his most suave, certainly, but this blatantly-flirtatious greeting atop his own delight has somewhat stolen his functioning brain cells.

"Hob," the guy repeats, unhurried, like he's savoring the taste of the name in his mouth, and smiles just a little bit. "You may call me Dream."

"Pleased to run into you again, Dream." Hob dimples brightly, delighted with the turn his day has taken, delighted that they've made proper introductions. "How was the head-clearing, the other day?"

"Effective." The guy—Dream—crowds close under the umbrella (Hob's largest, which he had pulled out yesterday just in case) and smooths the clinging water from his hair with one hand. His (damp) shoulder is firmly pressed against Hob's and his profile is absolutely beautiful, this close. Hob tries not to stare.

"Got your creativity flowing again, did it?"

"I managed to finish a very troublesome chapter Monday evening, yes."

Hob perks up at this new tidbit of information. "You're a writer, then?"

He gives a short nod, staring out into the rain, then glances sideways at Hob. "I have you to thank for my progress, also."

"Me?"

"The stories you shared…you inspired a direction for the scene that was plaguing me. I came out yesterday, with intent to thank you, but you were not here…?"

His voice lilts up just a touch on the end of his sentence, curiosity expressed without actually voicing the question, and Hob just smiles. "Yeah, Tuesday's my early-morning class. Sorry I missed you."

"No matter. I have now left the house three days in a row and my sister is distressingly pleased about it. She says it is good for my mental health."

"And what do you think?"

He sighs, heavily. "She is not incorrect." He glances sideways at Hob again, eyes narrowed prettily. "But I am not going to admit it to her."

Hob laughs; he can't help it. "You are so completely valid for that," he says, and when Dream smiles in return his spirits soar.

~ "Remembered your umbrella this time, I see!" Hob ignores the little pang of disappointment; just because he doesn't need to share his umbrella with Dream this time doesn't mean they can't still have a conversation.

"My sister reminded me, yes," Dream answers, and then to Hob's great surprise he lowers and closes the umbrella. "But I would prefer to share yours, if you're amenable." His eyes flick up, just a hint of hopeful uncertainty showing there.

"Of course." Hob moves close, brings his umbrella over Dream's head, heart thudding in his chest with delight. He hopes the great spreading grin on his face doesn't put Dream off; he can't quite get it under control.

If Dream notices, he gives no indication. "This routine is working well for me," he says, and it takes Hob a second to cotton on to what he means.

"What, catching the bus in the rain every morning?"

"Yes," Dream says serenely. "The company is. Refreshing." The corners of his mouth tilt up the smallest bit.

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Hob says, making a valiant effort to sound normal while something warm blooms in the vicinity of his heart. He shifts the umbrella, making sure they're both still sheltered.

"Writing flows more easily when I return home after our morning conversations," Dream says, as if this is something they've been doing for weeks instead of just days. "I shall have to credit you in my author's notes."

Hob laughs, absolutely delighted. "That is extremely flattering, my friend, but wholly unnecessary. But if I'm at all helpful? I'm glad."

One day maybe he'll ask if he can see Dream's writing, when they've been acquainted for more than a week; one day further, perhaps, he'll ask him on a date. It certainly seems he'd be amenable, but Hob knows himself and his tendency to rush in full-tilt and tells himself there's no harm in just. Seeing what happens, for a little while.

~ "Share my umbrella?"

Dream looks askance at him, hair fluttering prettily across his forehead in the breeze. "It is not raining, Hob."

"Well no, but. Bit windy, isn't it? Wouldn't want you to suffer any windburn. Umbrella makes a decent wind-break." He has oh-so-smoothly said 'wind' three times in ten seconds, and it is the flimsiest of excuses to begin with, but Dream only smiles as if he's said something profoundly wise.

"Indeed. Truly, I am fortunate to receive your continued chivalry." He crowds in close to Hob, who angles the umbrella behind them to keep the wind off, and smiles.

~ The other patrons at the bus stop are giving Hob weird looks as he opens his umbrella, but there's only one person here whose opinion matters.

Dream tilts one eyebrow up, amused. "The sun is shining today, Hob Gadling. Yet still you offer your umbrella?"

"It's tradition, at this point. And besides—got a very fair complexion, haven't you? Bit of shade will do you good."

"…As you say." His smile is radiant as the sunshine, and Hob's heart thumps happily. "Thank you."

~ It's been about a month since that first meeting when Hob leaves campus for the afternoon and finds Dream waiting at the college bus stop. The morning's rain has cleared throughout the day but now rises again as a light drizzly mist; Dream is huddled into the meager shelter offered over the bench while pulling out his umbrella. Hob hurries over with his own already deployed, playing into their established pattern.

"Fancy meeting you here?" he greets, smiling. He's delighted to run into Dream outside their developed routine, and the way that Dream kind of blooms to see him is very satisfying.

"Hob. At last," Dream smiles, ducking under Hob's broad umbrella.

"Been waiting long?"

"…Somewhat. You see. I have. A question, I would like to ask you. An important one." The gravity in his tone is clear, and Hob might be worried if it wasn't so plainly obvious that Dream was nervous. "But I do not know your schedule, beyond your morning commute, and so…"

"Have you just been hanging around half the day waiting for me to show up?" Hob is equal parts appalled and delighted.

Dream meets his eyes briefly, glance flicking away again too quickly to interpret as anything other than confirmation. "Perhaps."

Hob laughs, aware he should possibly be alarmed by what any normal person would read as stalking behavior but utterly charmed by it instead. "Your patience has its reward, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I…ah." Dream colors prettily, the faintest pink flush across his cheeks as he stumbles over actually speaking his question, and Hob is rapidly escalating from 'charmed' to 'enamoured'. "I am not. Good, at—at—"

"Obviously it was important enough to identify my most likely location and wait hours for me to show up, right?" Hob cuts in gently. "Go ahead. I promise I won't judge you." He can hear the fondness seeping into his own voice, and apparently so can Dream. He lifts wide eyes to Hob, lips pressed together resolutely, and heaves a fortifying breath out through his nose.

"I wish to ask. Would you like to have dinner sometime. Or. Or coffee, perhaps."

The bus pulls up at that exact moment, disgorging a single passenger; Hob barely hesitates before waving the driver on.

"That was our bus?" Dream states, lilting up in such a way that it's clear he means Why did we not board, why are we still standing here?

"Well, yes," Hob agrees, very aware of the size of the dopey grin on his face. "But you see, a very dear friend of mine has just asked if I might like a bite to eat with him, and I know the most amazing little spot right around the corner."

"That. That is 'yes', then? Now?" Dream seems delightedly flummoxed, and it ratchets Hob straight up to 'besotted'. How could Dream think he'd ever say anything else? Although it occurs to him belatedly Dream might have other obligations for the evening.

"Well 'now' is certainly 'sometime', yes? If you're free, that is. If you've something else you have to do—"

"No. Nothing else," Dream cuts him off, and the warm smile spreading over his face makes Hob's heart skip a beat. "There is nowhere I should like to be more, just now."

Of course not, not when he'd dedicated the bulk of his day to waiting for Hob just to ask him out. "Wonderful. Shall we?" He offers his arm, angling the umbrella to keep the misty sprinkle off them still.

Dream tucks a hand into his elbow and falls into step beside him.

~ "Wanna try mine?" Hob offers, plucking a crispy slab of cheese from his plate with a bit of everything on it and holding it out, other hand cupped underneath. They are talking over plates of halloumi fries; Hob had gone for his favorite—smothered in pomegranate molasses and za'atar yoghurt with pomegranate arils and fresh mint garnish—and Dream had taken his drizzled in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

"Thank you, I am fine," Dream says, rote politeness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, and Hob arches a brow.

"Worried you'll have to spend a month stuck with me for each pomegranate seed?"

"That would hardly dissuade me," Dream replies, with a sweet little smile that hits Hob straight in the gut. "Very well, since you offer so generously." He leans forward, grasps Hob's wrist instead of the proffered food, and bites through the warm-crusted cheese while Hob's still holding it, lips brushing Hob's fingers as he pulls back.

He chews, making a contemplative face, and gently plucks the rest of it from Hob's hand while Hob is still scrambling to reboot his poor blue-screening brain and not make a fool of himself.

"Do you know," Hob blurts, grasping for anything, "whatever Persephone might have eaten in the underworld, it would've bound her there the same? It wasn't just because it was a pomegranate?"

"I did know that, yes," Dream replies, and Hob feels the flush of having said something fairly stupid rising into his face. "The pomegranate is a tidy choice for enumerating the months she stays below, I think, with the countable seeds." He plucks one of the ruby-red arils from the cheese that Hob had given him between two delicate fingertips and places it in his mouth, eyes on Hob in a way that makes him lose his brain again.

"Yes that's. Good point," Hob tries, and thankfully Dream pops the rest of the halloumi fry into his mouth without any fanfare or continued eye contact.

"I can see why you like this," Dream says, once his mouth is empty. "It is a wonderful blend of flavors. But the honey-sesame remains my favorite." He takes a bite from his own plate, and Hob tries not to fixate on the casual way he licks the honey off his rose-petal lips.

"I wrote an alternate version of Persephone's story, once," Dream says then, eyes not exactly meeting Hob's or even on his face, darting between his shoulder and his sternum and dropping back to his plate. "I made it her choice; they met and fell in love long before the abduction, which was closer to an elopement. She ate the pomegranate seeds deliberately so as not to be taken away from the partner she had chosen. In my version, it was the pomegranate specifically that would bind her."

"That sounds brilliant," Hob says, feeling a little starry-eyed; Dream has never really talked specifics about his writing before. "I'd love to read it sometime."

"It. Was many many years ago, before I ever considered publication," Dream admits, barely glancing up at Hob, still a little skittish. "I thought it a unique idea at the time, but there are dozens of Persephone remixes to be had and I have never felt it warranted the effort of reworking it from my current skill level or attempting to publish."

"Well for what it's worth, your version is the remix I'd be most interested in reading," Hob says, utterly sincere, smiling from ear to ear. "If you ever wanted to share, that is." He bites into another halloumi fry and speaks around it. "I would never pressure you to let me read your stuff if you don't want to. But I'm always interested."

"…Thank you." Dream covers his awkwardness with another dainty bite from his own plate, a hint of pink dusting across his cheekbones. When his mouth is empty again, he offers, "Mostly I have written. Romance."

"Oh?"

"Not under my own name. But yes."

"See it's fascinating that pseudonyms are so prevalent through the ages, and for so many reasons," Hob starts, and as the conversation turns in this new direction Hob does not miss how Dream relaxes to have the focus shifted from the vulnerable personal glimpse of himself he'd offered.

And Hob maybe falls a little bit deeper.

~ It's still lightly raining three hours later; they've talked about so many things, they've had dessert and then had coffee since neither of them were ready to leave yet. It's dark by the time they finally head back to the bus stop; Dream presses up against Hob's side beneath the umbrella and Hob thrills at the warmth, the closeness, the graceful slide of Dream's hand into his and the way he doesn't let go until the bus shows up.

~ It's raining again the first time Hob kisses Dream, pulling him close beneath the umbrella outside the theater, one finger tipped beneath Dream's chin; the kiss is tentative, but Dream's mouth is warm and the way he lists gently forward has Hob coming back again, soft and sweet and smiling helplessly.

~ Three straight days of rain are clearing on the afternoon that Dream takes Hob to the bookstore and leads him to the romance section, points him to a shelf in the 'M's where there are a dozen or so titles by Morpheus, mononymous. Hob doesn't make the connection for a second, and then he does.

"Is this you?" he asks, reaching for one of the hardbacks, and sure enough there's Dream's photo inside the dust jacket, solemn and styled and somehow less authentic than the Dream standing nervously next to him.

"Yes," Dream confirms, and soft warmth floods Hob's chest. Dream has been very reserved about his writing—"It is one thing to publish for strangers, but I find it…much more difficult to share, when it is someone whose opinon matters to me personally," he'd said once, and being trusted, opened up to like this—Hob is not oblivious to the privilege of it.

"You've certainly written a lot," he says, warmth and fondness curling in his chest. "And you're okay with me reading any of these?"

"Yes; however—" he reaches into the messenger bag slung over his hip, withdraws a large clear envelope with what looks like a manuscript inside. "If you wish to read my writing, I would have you begin with this." He hands it to Hob.

Hades and Persephone: The Morpheus Remix the paper proclaims through the plastic, and Hob looks up at Dream, delighted. "Is this—?"

"It needs a proper title." Dream shrugs, hunches into his coat a little bit. "I would like—perhaps you might help me come up with one, as it was you who inspired me to revisit and update it."

Hob cannot for the life of him stop the broad smile that overtakes his face, is not even trying. "I would be honored."

~ It is raining buckets the night that Dream comes home with Hob, and even the umbrella is not enough to prevent their getting a bit wet. But that's alright, Hob thinks, with Dream's eager mouth warm and hungry on his as they move in the direction of his bedroom, it's not like their clothes were staying on anyway.

He lays Dream gently in his bed, covers him with his own body, makes love to him with slow and ardent urgency while the rain lashes against his window. Later, after, when the winds have calmed and thunder rumbles soothingly in the distance, he holds Dream curled against him, asleep, and he thinks. He thinks about umbrellas, and shielding, and guardedness, and how Dream has slowly gifted so many of his vulnerabilities to Hob; he thinks about the duality of potential in that realization, the power it gives him to either harm or protect, and vows to himself that he will always be Dream's metaphorical umbrella when it's within his capabilities.

~ It's sprinkling just a little when Hob realizes that he's going to marry Dream.

It's early Autumn and they're at the park; Dream is under his own umbrella (look, sometimes sharing just isn't practical, as much as Hob still loves faithfully carrying on their schtick), scattering peas and grapes for the ducks and Hob is hanging back, watching him with an aching fondness in his heart.

Dream is beautiful, and thoughtful, and engaging. He is guarded and private, but so warm and emotional and giving once he has let you in. He is smart, and witty, with the driest sense of humor and the most endearingly terrible laugh and Hob has fallen desperately in love with him along the way.

He watches as a particularly bold duck comes close and snaps up the pea that had fallen directly at the toe of Dream's boot; watches the soft delight that steals over Dream's face, and he knows.

~ It is the following Spring before he asks. They are at the bus stop where they first met and it's a bright sunny day; Hob's got the umbrella up and they're shoulder-to-shoulder beneath it. Dream is animated, excited, talking about his editor's latest feedback on his Persephone remix (The Seeds of Fate, they had decided to call it), and Hob is listening, very much interested but so so nervous. The little velvet box on his pocket is weighty, not physically of course but he can't stop touching it, hoping Dream will say yes, believing Dream will say yes.

At last, Dream turns to him, a little wrinkle of concern between his brows. "You feel…distracted; is everything alright?"

Hob smiles at him, entirely and wholeheartedly in love. He hooks the hand holding the umbrella with Dream's so their fingers are tangled together around it; he leans his forehead against Dream's, closes his eyes. "I have a question, I'd like to ask you. An important one." It's a deliberate echo of how Dream had asked him out more than a year ago; Hob can picture the way Dream smiles to recognize it, can feel one eyebrow lifting against his own.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the little box from his pocket and clicks the lid open. "Will you marry me?"

It's a quiet request, pitched low so the other couple people at the bus stop don't overhear, so that if Dream does wish to say no, he won't be under the public pressure of strangers to say yes for appearances' sake. Not that Hob expects him to say no.

He hopes he doesn't say no.

Dream pulls back and Hob opens his eyes, meeting the surprise and delight and disbelief in Dream's. Dream looks down at the ring in the open box in Hob's hand, touches a fingertip to the velvet-covered lid delicately, looks back up at Hob with joy blossoming in his face.

"Do you mean it? Truly?"

Hob swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, squeezes gently where his hand is tangled with Dream's around the handle of the umbrella. "More than anything," he murmurs, entranced by the gathering shine of happy tears in Dream's eyes. "Marry me. Please."

Dream makes a joyful little noise, wrenches his hand free and throws both arms around Hob's neck, kissing him soundly. Hob manages to snap the ring box closed and swing the umbrella low, wraps both arms around Dream's waist and kisses him back.

"Yes," Dream breathes wetly when they part a moment later. "Yes, of course yes, a thousand times, yes."

~ They marry in the park in August, the clouds high and the breeze warm. Hob puts up the umbrella when they reach the crux of the ceremony; he holds its history over them while they say their vows, while they slip rings on one another's fingers, and then they seal their marriage with a tender heartfelt kiss beneath its promise of care and protection.

= Started: 2/3/24 Drafted: 2/24/24 Posted: 2/25/24

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 3: umbrella seashore mist Day 4: camera lush beau Day 5: rescue inertia lullaby Day 6: tie embarrassment* dessert Day 7: potatoes blue glass Day 8: shower blessed layer Day 9: urgency kneel rural Day 10: flush angel owl Day 11: reflection water apology Day 12: graceful volcano blanket Day 18: suave cologne gradual* Day 19: teacakes flood feature Day 20: smooth glitters queen Day 23: rhythm chalk humor Day 24: spring fuzzy silky

*The word did not get used but the concept is very much in there

✨✨✨ Sequel: Love Rain Down On Me ✨✨✨

[czigonas]

Saw this image of Soap and Ghost enjoying the spoils of a carnival/fair and my brain immediately went instead to Actually They Are Both Carnies AU.

(I am going to preface this by saying I am much more familiar with American traveling carnie lifestyles rather than the UK [do they... even do those over there?] or anywhere else, so that's what I'm basing this on. This is set vaguely late 80s-early 90s in my mind.)

Ghost has been working as a carnie for a very long time. He basically grew up on the fair circuit, helping his dad as soon as he was old enough to carry things and count out change (and do a little pick-pocketing on the side).

Old Man Riley runs a ring toss booth, though not well. He's constantly on the bad side of the man that owns the ring toss trailer but they keep him on the job because, when he's sober, he's charming enough to pull people in and keep them playing. Problem is, he's increasingly not sober. Simon's tall for his age though, so, as soon as they can pass him off as 14 (he's about 9 or 10), the lead has a few of the other barkers teach him how to draw people in. Look charming, smile wide, get them to see you as a friend, play the part and get paid. Simon hates it, but he does what he's told because it keeps his mom and Tommy housed and fed.

(Lead's wife is pretty good about keeping odd jobs set aside for Simon's mom at any time of day she needs to escape. Lead's wife can't interfere every time, but she and a couple of the other carnies do try to minimize the abuse by offering legitimate ways to get away for a short time.)

As Simon and Tommy grow, Old Man Riley steps back more and more. He's almost never sober anymore and rarely seen anywhere near the booth-fronts. He's a terror in the back lots, and burns through a lot of the goodwill the rest of the family manages to generate among their fellows. Tommy starts being trained up taking tickets at a fun house, and he's good at it. He's not as conventionally pretty as Simon, but he's flirtier, more attuned to crowd moods, and much more willing to bark, so he does well pulling.

As soon as Simon's 18, he joins the Army. He's always liked the travel aspect of carnie life, but he hates that it's seasonal work and the months and months of downtime. He never grew to enjoy having to put on the charming mask to draw in customers. Instead, he leaves with the lead's grudging blessing and a promise to his mom and Tommy to catch them up at whatever stop they're at whenever he has leave.

The Army is... nice. It's not necessarily a life he wants to live forever, but for now it's different and yet still enough like what he left behind to satisfy. He ends up having to take an extended leave right after basic to sort Tommy out, though. Drugs have always been passed around pretty openly around the booths and caravans, the the Riley boys had never partaken. His mum had sent a letter that Tommy had been getting into them and not handling it well. She doesn't say it outright, but Simon blames the old man.

He finds an unexpected ally in Beth, the daughter of the man widely acknowledged to be taking over as lead when the current one finally retires. It's not exactly an advantageous match for Beth's family, but she's stubborn and has made up her mind. She wants Tommy and she's going to have him so long as he wants her back. Together they get him clean and Simon gives the pair of them his blessing and a good chunk of the money he's saved over the years.

(Tommy uses it to buy his own caravan so he and Beth aren't imposing on their parents. They both agree Mrs Riley can stay whenever she needs. The old man has been getting worse the more he sinks into the drugs and drink. He'll need to be left behind soon, but no one can agree on where. There are a lot of jokes about ditches and empty fields. [A good number of them aren't jokes.])

Simon heads back to the Army with a lighter heart, ready to do his duty knowing his family is once again as safe and happy as he can make them. They exchange postcards and letters when they can, e-mails when they manage to find somewhere to send one from. Simon doesn't make it home in time for Joseph's birth, but he sees him as often as the leave schedule allows. Everything is good for a few years.

Then. Roba.

Ghost crawls out of his desert grave and, while the Army welcomes him back, they simply do not have a place in their ranks for a dead man. They want to forget the betrayal by one of their own and the loss of a whole unit of promising soldiers; sweep it under a rug and never speak of the shame again. Ghost gets an honorable discharge and several discreet leads to a few PMCs and even the CIA if he wants to stay fighting near the front lines. He doesn't.

Instead, he goes home. He takes what's left of his belongings, the rest of his pay, the survivor benefits in the name of Simon Riley's next of kin, and the hush money check thinly disguised as a pension and goes to find his family. He finds them happy, safe, and sound. Joseph is thriving under the attentions of both Mama Riley and Beth's parents. Tommy's in charge of a handful of booths now, and Beth is running their section of the back lots as well as any sergeant Ghost's ever known.

He gets himself a little trailer to sleep in so he's not imposing and slides back into the crew so easily it's almost as though he never left. Except now he has a mask he won't remove for anyone. The lead sets him up doing mostly setup/tear down, but supplements his time with stalking the fun houses and dark rides to make sure no one's slipped off into a corner trying to get frisky or burn the place down.

Sparks and Washington, when they show up, don't make it far into their convoluted revenge/enticement plot against Ghost. Tommy ends up losing an eye and an unlucky witness gets Sparks' knife to the ribs, but at least they'll both live. The same can't be said for the two ex-Army men.

The carnies close ranks when the authorities show up. They blame the injuries on an after hours party trick that got a little out of hand and accept medical treatment, but offer no information that would lead to any charges being filed against anyone. When they move on to the next show, they leave behind two unmarked graves that will lay undiscovered on those grounds for decades to come.

(The road out of town ends up with one of its own, and Old Man Riley is guaranteed not to bother anyone any further. The crew doesn't take lightly to rats.)

Life slowly crumbles its way back to a semblance of normal. A few stops later, they pick up a few new additions. One of them happens to be a brash Scottish man who comes highly recommended by the head of another crew named Price. Johnny "call me Soap" MacTavish immediately gets on Beth's good side (and Ghost's annoyed one, much to his chagrin).

Still, this Soap guy is kinda growing on him. Just a little.

[the-possum-writes]

[Werewolf! Razor Modern AU]

Character: Razor

Fandom: Genshin Impact (Ginger Snaps inspired)

Tags/Warnings: Headcanons, Modern AU/Early 2000's, Gender Neutral Reader, Violence, The dog dies, Mutual pinning, Childhood Friends, Jealousy, Senior High School Setting (aged up), Angst and Comfort.

Wordcount: 4530

A/n: I wanted to play around with something different. This is my first time writing for a genshin impact character and I've been meaning to write for Razor since he's my first four star and I immediately grew attached to him (big sword go whoosh), the idea came to me when I was watching Ginger Snaps one night and doing my genshin dailies.

❥The setting would be in the united states around 2003, in an small rural town surrounded by pines, monotone suburban homes with the chilly early autumn season forcing everyone to wear coats and scarfs.

❥You first met him in elementary school. He just moved in the neighborhood with his adoptive widowed father Varka. Razor was selective mute at school. It didn't make him many friends at first cause the other kids thought he was weird but that didn't stop you from approaching him.

"Do you have a favorite animal?" You'd ask him

Razor pointed at the picture of a pack of wolves in his national geographic picture book, they looked pretty cool so you drew him one with a few broken crayons. He was amazed that you drew him anything, let alone his favorite animal so he returned the gesture and pointed at you as if asking for your favorite. A day later he gave you a gift, a homemade sculpture that resembled an animal made with glued popsicle sticks and googly eyes. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable.

❥You grew up together and hang out at each other's houses to the point its like a second home, go to the same after school activities and rarely spend more than a few days without one another. Eventually Benny was added to the mix after getting to know you two and struggling to make his own friends in 5th grade, Razor started talking more too. Jump back to current days where you took the first years of highschool for granted, now as graduation comes closer each month you’re now left uncertain of the future as the thought of pursing career paths puts a damp on your friendship with Razor.

❥Razor loves animals, especially canines. He already has a dog but if he had a bigger yard he'd fit many more, you know he also donates money to wolf conservation groups whenever he gets the chance and wants to go to college and go to veterinary school in hopes of helping many more in the future. Your plans aren't as goal oriented as his and you just follow his steps and do anything to be near him, like when you tagged along when he did social service at a dairy farm, but college is a bigger problem for you since your parents have been going through financial struggles. Shaking your head at the thought, you try and focus on your buddy.

❥The two of you walk down the street with a small group of neighborhood dogs on their leashes, it's a chore you're used to in hopes of raising extra cash, meanwhile Razor tags on just cause of the joy it brings him.

❥Due to his preference of animals over people, you're one of his only friends (with the other being Bennett, but isn't as close anymore since he made more friends throughout high school, the three of you are still in good terms though) even before you met Razor he didn't really talk much and although he talks more with you around, he gets tired really fast and resorts to broken sentences which might seem obnoxious to some. But to you, it's charming.

"Have you thought about your costume for Halloween?" you'd ask him.

"Thinking about being a wolf."

"Razor, you were already a wolf last year and the year before that." you snort.

"...They're cool." He gives you a sheepish smile. He doesn't care what others think about him. The street you two walk down is very domestic and ordinary, with a group of kids playing street soccer just around the corner. 

❥But an alarming scream rang out from one of the homes, with a woman clutching a hand to her chest. "He took Max, the beast took Max!" Both Razor and you, along with the kids turned to look at her for a moment- the kids soon went back to their game, meanwhile your attention immediately went to Razor who was already having glossy eyes but tried to hide them from you by crouching down to one of the dogs level to avoid you seeing him.

"You okay?"

Razor pets one of the dogs to distract himself. "I'll be okay. Just wished people would stop leaving their dogs outside." 

It's then that you realize how much the group has shrunk compared to last month, you two would handle about 15 dogs in one go but now there's just 4 of them excluding Razor's own dog Andrius. 

❥"Word around the street is that there's gonna be a costume party at Bennett's, you wanna go? We could have matching costumes." you try to change the subject.

"Can't. Promised Klee I'd take her trick or treating."

"Right, right the neighbor girl." you nod, looking away to nothing in particular while you wait for Razor to recover.

"I know what costume I'll wear." Razor eventually stood up.

"What?"

"Werewolf-" he joked, just in time for you to see his cracked grins.

"Oh god, can't you be more original?." you laugh. 

❥The next day at school you got into some beef with Scaramouche, a classmate of yours who was talking shit and wouldn't shut up. It left you feeling humiliated and angry, it was so bad that when you learned of his pet cat it sent you into a frenzy that led you out here after dark and past curfew with a bag of fake blood and fake fur. Razor managed to intercept you just a block away from your house. He stands up right in front of you, giving you a look you can't decipher under the dim street lights.

"Don't try to stop me Razor. I'm not gonna hurt his cat- I'll just leave this on his doorstep and give him a well deserved scare. " you insist, walking around him as you continue your intended path, but rather than stopping you he walks alongside you. 

"I won't stop you, but won't let you go alone either." 

❥The two of you took a shortcut through a park that was near the edge of the forest, stopping abruptly due to seeing a dog carcass lying near the swings. Razor immediately tenses up, while you feel your own resolve for petty revenge dimishing. 

"Let's give it a proper burial." you suggest already grabbing the dog's frontal paws. It's cold outside so you're wearing gloves, but Razor wasn't, so when he grabbed the dog's hind legs he immediately letting go once he touched it.  "It's still warm... This was recent." He fears.

❥A growl echoes from beyond the street lamp's light drawing your attention to the pair of white dots reflecting from the creature's eyes, Razor slowly raises his arm to your shoulder but neither your flight or fight instincts respond and you're standing there motionless even as the creature rushes towards you.  You tumble to the ground as Razor jumped in front of you, you couldn't see the beast but it chomped down on Razor's arm and dragged him away from the streetlight and into the pine forest. "Razor!" you chase after him in the dark. Getting scratched by tree branch after tree branch until you loose sight of him but his screams are still audible as you try to make sense of which direction its coming from.

"RAZOR!" You shout, starting to worry once you don't hear him anymore, but you do hear the beast.

You eventually spot it in the dark, hunched over Razor.

❥You pick up a piece of a log, walking carefully towards the creature as it mauls Razor's thick jacket and you smack the thing twice before it growled at you and ran off to lick it's wounds. You use those precious seconds to pick up Razor and toss his arm over your shoulders, struggling to get him to respond in any way that lets you know he's alive. It takes every piece of your sanity to not freak out at the sight of his blood.

 

❥"Let's get out of here-" you huff while carrying him by his good arm. But no matter how much you run you know the beast is just behind the two of you, soon your shoes feel the form pavement of a street as you made it out of the forest with a car in sight. You desperately make gestures at it but it looks like it's not slowing down in the slightest, your eyes then went to the clear pair of sickly yellow looking at you, you can't make out it's form due to its blacken fur but you know it's running at you.

❥The car blares it's horn at you and screeches to the left as it avoids running you over but in that moment it ended up running over the beast instead, hearing it leave an enormous dent against the car's hood.

It's tires screech into a halt a few feet's away from you now. Hearing the opening and closing of the door.

"What are you doing out here?! What was that?" The driver shouted at you, recognizing him as Albedo from your chemistry class.

"Doesn't matter! Just help me take Razor to the hospital!" You beg desperately.

❥Hes freaked out, maybe almost as you are. But while he drives off you stay in the backseat with Razor as you try and remove his jacket to check his wounds, what you see is something out of this world. Razor as a nasty gash across his chest and bleeding like an uncooked steak but slowly you see it heal itself at a rapid pace.

❥Razor snaps awake and grabs you by the wrist. He calls your name in a foggy voice, if Razor ever drank you get the feeling this is how he would sound like when drunk. "What are you doing? What happened?" He asks you, noticing how he caught your hand on his bare chest.

"What's going on back there?" Albedo asks you but you don't respond immediately. Only telling him in a tired voice that he's fine and that you just want him to take you two home.

❥Once you got home you called Varka and told him that Razor was gonna stay over at your house because of a school project, something both of your parents are used to. 

He falls asleep shortly after but you're left awake and still left shaking, turning a side glance at Razor just to make sure he's still here with you.

❥Theres some spare clothes for him in your room (due to previous frequent sleepovers where the two of you play videogames on weekends), you've grown used to seeing his torso bare but this time while he's dressing you stare intently at his back searching for any marks or scars but they don't seem outright visible at first. Just the faintest white scar as if it were a wound from years ago which would be impossible.

❥ "Razor? Do you remember anything about last night?"

He stays silent as he looks upwards, a very him thing to do when he's shuffling through stuff in his head but this time he comes empty handed. "I remember we were in the park and then... Everything goes fuzzy after that." He states simply, but then looks back at you meeting your eyes as he shrugs it off. "We're gonna be late."

"Right..." You bite the inside of your cheek.

❥Despite your worries, the day goes about as usual as it normally does. You don't have the heart to ask him any more details cause you suspect he's having some sort of memory loss due to the traumatic experience, you could've just shrugged it off after a few sleepless night and go on with your life but you felt the lingering sensation that there's more to this attack than meets the eye.

❥It isn't until you saw Albedo that you went up to him while actively looking behind your back, as if this was something taboo. "Albedo right? I know we only have chemistry class together but about yesterday..."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I got yelled at for leaving a huge dent in the car." He grimaces.

"I was gonna ask about that, did you see what you ran over? We got chased by it but I didn't get a good look, it was so dark I..."

"Look," Albedo sighs as he runs a hand through his hair out of some bottled up frustration. "I didn't get a good look at that thing nor do I care what it was- I just happen to find the two of you covered in enough blood to stain my car and took me hours to clean, so I'd appreciate it if we'd just drop this topic and go on with our lives okay?"

You nod solemnly, not the closure you were expecting but if this is what you need to move on then surely-

❥Razor suddenly pops up right behind you once Albedo left. Scaring the bejewels outta you, "What did he want?" He asks, adding a passive aggressive emphasis on the 'he' as if Albedo just spat on his shoe.

"Albedo? Not much, I was just asking about last night."

There's the faintest hint of a grimace and a frown on Razor's lips as he looked in Albedo's direction, it "No need, I'm okay remember? Besides, he's no good."

"What? You mean those rumors that he cooks drugs with the chemistry equipment?" You laugh it off. That was the first sign of Razor feeling off.

❥He’s a fast runner, making him an eye catcher in the track team meanwhile you just joined so you could be with him.

❥Normally during P.E. you'd sit on the benches watching over Razor and taking care of your backpacks while he runs a few laps around the race track, but the P.E. teacher wasn't having it today and sent you to the field as well, while you were doing leg warm ups you kept your eyes on Razor as he ran to his heart's content. Usually when you see him and his medium length gray hair tied in a ponytail (you help him dye it, looks like he needs a touch up since the dark roots are becoming visible) flowing in the wind he has this carefree attitude to himself, sometimes he can be a bit competitive but it was never something that overcame him. Today however, he looked different. His facial features were furrowed and concentrated as he had a slow start but soon sped past student after student, gaining a shocked (and pissed) expression from Scaramouche as he surpassed him in the first lap, Scara tried to match up to him around the second lap but Razor wouldn't allow it. When he ran past your side of the field you could see for a split second how Razor was baring his teeth as his leg muscles contracted as he forced his body to over do himself for the sake of coming first place. 

Even the teacher was impressed, but still concerned. "Easy there Razor, save that for nationals and you might get yourself a scholarship."

❥ You're expression became solemn at the mention of a college scholarship, knowing you didn't have the same amount of physical (nor academic) prowess to get one.

❥While you get up from crouching you hear one of the students from your group walk up to Razor. "Wow Razor you were amazing, have you been jogging recently?" One of the girls, Mona you think was her name was complimenting him but it went just as you'd expect it to go.

"Not really, only when I take Andrius on walks. He's energetic so sometimes-"

You smile to yourself as you hear him go on into a long talk about his dog, you walk up to Razor and hand him his water bottle as you take your place at the race track. Mona, now bored outta her mind follows along as well. Meanwhile you took notice of Albedo hanging out with other sketchy students just a the other side of the benches, he didn't turn to look when Razor's group was running but now when it's your turn he spares you his attention, talking to his buddies. If only you would've noticed the glare Scaramouche directs in your direction.

❥ Despite the new attention you still run as graceful as a headless chicken, soon lagging behind from the rest of the group because your legs start giving away mid lap. "Come on guys, one more lap to go!" The teacher blows through their whistle.

By the time it's finally over you head to where Razor is waiting for you with your water bottle ready, but Scara has other plans, he takes the opportunity of your weak legs to stick his own foot out and causes you to stumble and fall. Hitting your forehead against the corner of the benches.

❥The teacher doesn't notice what caused your fall, but Razor does. This has his nostrils flaring and his own blood pumping, going up to Scara and giving him a smack across the cheek, which soon escalated into a fight in the ground.

❥ One trip to the teacher's office later; you wait for Razor outside as you hand him his backpack, walking up to a vending machine for a cold drink. "You didn't have to do that you know, I could've handled him myself." You scold Razor as you hold a cold beverage to your forehead

"He deserved it." 

You smirk briefly before your pursue your lips together. "He did... but then again you've never reacted that way before." 

But Razor only shrugs. That wasn't the last time he did something out of character.

❥He's been getting fuzzy lately too. During lunch there was a classmate standing too close to him and Razor snapped at him to move, like sure you hate people getting in your personal space too but Razor wouldn't normally say it outloud.

❥The two of you were doing homework when a difficult question came up, causing you to chew the bottom of your pencil and look everywhere but your work. Your wandering eyes took you to Razor's own concentrated look. "Hey Razor, how often do you shave?" You brought up.

"I don't, why?"

You give him quizzical look, lowering your pencil down so you could run a hand over his cheek and down his chin feeling the soft prick of facial hair. Razor stays quiet, just letting you touch his face but for some reason this time it feels...good. Or atleast it did until you pip up. "Holy shit dude, you're growing facial hair! And here I thought you were gonna be a baby face forever but apparently I was wrong." You grin to yourself  as you remove your hands from him.

"What?" Razor touches his own face, feeling the peach fuzz starting to form. "Would it look bad on me?" He asks somewhat bothered by the fact.

"I don't know, I mean I'm used to looking at you without it but then again Varka has a really cool beard and is rocking it. Who knows."

"But, would you like it?"

Now this is an interesting spot to get placed in, Razor doesn't really care what anyone thinks about him- if he wants to wear the same Halloween costume he's worn since elementary he'll keep doing it, so for him to ask about your opinion on his appearance was something unexpected.

"...I like you the way you are."

❥ What Razor didn't tell you was that his face wasn't the only thing growing hair.

You stopped by his house to pick him up for school but he wasn't answering the door, so you invite yourself in and head straight for his room only to find it empty, "Hurry up Razor we got Ms. Lisa on the first hour. She's gonna have our ass if we're just a minute late-!" you shout. The closest thing you to a response was from the bathroom so you went in there and attempted to barge in but found it locked. "Razor open up."

Silence.

"Razor? What's wrong?"

"Promise you won't freak out." He mutters from behind the door.

"Razor I'd never do that, whatever is going on I'll help you."

The doorlock clicks as he let you in, that's where you take in the odd sight of him with overgrown hair- normally this shouldn't be shocking with a guy his age but it's worrying when the hair is coming from the claw marks scattered over his back and chest. Not only that but there's fresh cuts seeping down his face and few parts of his body, a quick glance at the bloody shaving razor on his sink gave you all the visual information you needed.

"Holy fuck Razor-" you were about to spew more curse words that would make a nun faint but you promised you'd stay calm and that's how you intend to keep it. "When did this started happening?" You ask in a low voice, helping clean up his fresh wounds.

"A day or two, I think." The uncertainty in his voice makes you wanna hug him, and that's what you did, even if it meant staining your clothes. “…I didn’t want you becoming scared of me.”

“Don’t worry Razor, it won’t change anything between us.” You promise.

❥Theres something wrong going on with him but he’s still in denial, he keeps insisting everything is alright and he’s just going through usual guy stuff but you know it has to be something more than that. Your fears came true when one night you’re woken up by the sound of shuffling in your room, you recognize Razor’s silhouette as he climbs through the window which you could’ve sworn was locked-

“Razor? What’s is it? It’s like three in the morning.” You groggily shuffle in your bed at your attempt to turn on your lamp but Razor covers your hand as he stops you.

“Don’t, I… I don’t want you to see me like this, but I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice cracks and it only worries you even more. You then start to process the hand covering your own, it’s wet and… warm. Too warm.

“Razor? What did you do?” He has you on edge, it’s now that your other senses start to wake up, specifically your sense of smell. It smells like something metallic, the first thing that comes to mind is that one time you were caught in the rain and there were coins in your pocket that had a specific smell.

But last you checked it didn’t rain today, so where was Razor at?

“I don’t know, I woke up and before I knew it I was… Razor was…” He sounds like a kid again, talking in the third person.

❥The reason he didn’t want you to turn the light on was because he didn’t want you becoming terrified of him, as much as he is of himself. When you turn the handle of your lamp your barely catch yourself from screaming at the sight In front of you, the dark stains covering his mouth, the front of his shirt and coating his hands- you feel a sense of déjà vu to the incident in the woods when he was covered in blood as you worrying grab a nearby towel and try to clean him. But Razor instinctively jerks away from you.

“Razor… What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me.”

“It’s not mine,” he starts but immediately covers his mouth.

“Then who’s is it?”

Razor doesn’t respond but he jerks forward as he grabs his stomach with one arm and uses the other to try and cover his mouth, he rushes to your bathroom but doesn’t make it in time and starts vomiting something viscous at the entrance to your bathroom, you really want to help him in any way you can. Hold his hair, rub his back as he lets it all out. But you see bits and pieces of what Razor’s puking, chunks of red meat, bile and patches of undigested fur. And between that bile there’s a metallic clank against the tile floor of your bathroom, it bounces a bit as it lands on the floorboards of your bedroom.

Time slows down as you slowly crouch down to pick up the metallic plate, you know what it is, you don’t want to see it but a part of you needs to confirm the truth.

❥The metallic plate is covered in the same blood staining Razor’s clothes and now splotch on your bathroom floor, it’s small and fish shaped as you swipe the substance with your thumb and read the letters engraved into the plate. It’s a name, a dog’s name.

❥You immediately drop the plate. You try and wipe the blood on the towel you got but it wouldn’t come off, you wipe and wipe until your palm burned but in your fear induced state you still see the blood on your hand. Still feeling it’s warmth, still smelling it despairing scent of wet metal. It’s no wonder you don’t feel safe anymore.

It's like you're back In that park again, slowly turning your head in Razor’s direction as you make small movements once he’s done emptying his stomach, but Razor is smarter than the beast that attacked you two. He knows what’s going through your mind now that you’ve seen him, he’s faster than you he could grab you in less than five steps but he doesn’t resort to that. He can’t, not in this state.

“Don’t leave me. Please… there’s no one else I can trust with this…” He’s so lost, so vulnerable and confused.

❥Despite everything, he’s still Razor. Your Razor. The one who would never purposely lay a hand on another animal, the one who wouldn’t cross the street without holding your hand since primary school, the one who’s had your back even though you’d tell him about your financial problems or internal struggles.

He needs you now more than ever.

You carefully walk up to him, wiping the lower portion of his face with the towel as adrenaline tears start running down your cheeks. You’re terrified, there’s no hiding it, but still: “I’m not leaving you Razor. We’ll figure something out, together.”

“Promise?”

“I Promise."

[shorkbrian]

Okay but yan!bully kiribaku where the reader has been isolated from her friend and kirishima swoops in to be her "friend" when he's just taking advantage of her situation and bakugo is more aggressive a big bully towards her and Kirishima comforts her while easing her into being touched like Bakugo does and poor reader doesn't know they've been on the same side till they're both fucking her in the locker room.

yes!

Warnings - no full out NSFW, although it’s alluded to at the end.

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

Like Bakugou spreads a nasty rumor about you, convinces the rest of the school that you’re a slut, or a stupid little whore that can’t keep her legs closed. And since Bakugou is a popular Pretty Boy, a lot of people believe him.

It’s not true, but no one cares what you have to say.

You don’t even know why Bakugou would say that, you’d never done anything to make him dislike you. Hell, you hadn’t even ever interacted with the dude! You just didn’t understand what prompted this viciousness from him.

Slowly you find yourself loosing all your friends. No one wants to be seen hanging out with you, people snicker at you in the hallways, you get nasty notes stuffed in your locker.

It hurts.

You’re grateful when Kirishima runs off a group of boys hassling you to “help them out”. The redhead has a reputation of being nothing more than a meathead, but you realize he’s a kind meathead, checks to see if you’re okay, wipes away your tears. 

You start seeing him around more, and it isn’t long before the two of you are hanging out on the regular. You’re so glad to have a friend again that you brush aside how touchy Kirishima is, how he always seems to have a hand on you.

Eating lunch? He’s absentmindedly rubbing your knee. Studying in the library means his head gets leaned against your shoulder. Says he’s tired. In P.E the redhead always runs next to you, chooses you for his dodgeball team when the teacher chooses to play the awful game. Practically smushes you between the wall and his back as he “protects” you from the other kids lobbing basketballs your way.

Whenever he does that he’s always sweaty, big body pressed flush to your own.  But you’re grateful, especially with the determination Bakugou shows in hitting you with the ball. 

Unfortunately Kirishima get’s tagged, and the second he steps away from you Bakugou is nailing you in the chest, knocking away your breath and making you hiss in pain. You always get brushed during dodgeball.

But you step to the side with the rest of the players who’re “out” and Kirishima is immediately sitting you down, wiping away the clammy sweat on your forehead, asking if you’re okay. If you tell him where Bakugou hit you, Kiri’s asking the teacher to take you to the nurse, concern written all over his face.

You feel a bit uncomfortable on the way there, with the way Kirishima seems to hover and want to poke and prod at your chest. You know if it had been on your stomach or your back that the redhead would be pulling up your shirt, pressing gently to see how bruised the area is while he watches you hiss in pain.

But since it’s on your chest you tell him you’ll have the nurse look at it. 

Still doesn’t stop him from quickly ghosting his hands over your chest before you can flinch away, worried face filling your vision. 

You know he’s just trying to help.

----

The bullying from Bakugou gets worse. Everyone is convinced Kirishima hangs around you because he wants a piece, but Kiri is quick to shut down your fears.

“You need a friend, it’s not fair that everyone ditched you because of a silly rumor.” he says, “I know what it’s like to get bullied. I’m here for you, ‘kay?”

You’re glad that he’s your friend. 

He’s started walking you home, just because Bakugou lives a few streets over and the blond sometimes catches you after school, shoves you to the sidewalk like a middle-school bully, kicks your books away. Last time he crouched down in front of you, grabbed your face and got real close, taunting you about being too stupid to get away. Too stupid to tell a teacher about how Bakugou was slowly getting worse.

Bakugou still finds you when Kirishima walks you home, but only says a few mean things your way before he heads for his own house. 

Kirishima holds you when you start to cry.  He sat down on the curb, pulling you into his side, strokes your hair and gently shushes you while you sob, blubber rhetorical questions, “Why is Bakugou so mean?” Kirishima’s always there to wipe away your tears.

----

Kirishima texts you and asks if you can bring him some water; the water fountain by the boys lockeroom is broken and he just finished with football practice. You’re at school still, waiting for the redhead so you can walk home so you don’t mind.

Kiri asks you to bring it in to the lockeroom and set it on the bench, cause he’s gonna shower and change so you don’t have to wait super long before walking home. You’re a bit hesitant, but he assured you over text that he’s the only one in there, everyone else had already gone home.

You aren’t paying attention when you push open the door, hurriedly going to the bench to set down the water. You don’t notice Bakugou, leaning against the lockers and watching you enter.

He makes his presence known by slapping the locker near his hip, making you jump out of your skin. When you turn to find the noise, he’s smirking at you, leaning back against the locker. 

Before you can even apologize, dash for the door and curse your existence, Bakugou is in front of you, pushing you back down onto the bench behind you.

“Wow, little slut looking to get gang banged by the football team after practice? Sorry to disappoint, it’s just me ‘n Kirishima here.”

You’re breathing heavily, eyes wide, scared. The blond sneers. 

“Aw, don’t worry! We’re more than enough to fill you up good.”

He’s shirtless, was probably in the process of changing when you had barged in. 

Kirishima rounds the corner, and you flush as you see he’s barely dressed too, nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. 

You’re expecting him to yell at Bakugou, maybe push the blonde to the side and help you up, push you out the door before Bakugou can touch you.

He doesn’t do anything of the sort.

His look is dark, predatory as he steps closer, sits down on the bench next to you. “Hey sweetie. Gonna be nice and good for us now, alright? Otherwise Bakugou’s gonna get angry, and you know how mean he can be.”

You’re hyperventilating, frozen in place. Kirishima grabs you, hugs you close to him as Bakugou kneels down, starts to work on your jeans. 

“Shh, shh, It’s gonna be okay. I’m here, we’re gonna treat you good.”

You shudder at Kirishima’s words, tears starting to flow as Bakugou rips down your jeans.

Kirishima was your friend. 

Turns out he was just as bad as Bakugou.

[kaaytea]

Yaku Morisuke x reader

Summary: Yaku insisted that he didn't need your help, but the sound of glass breaking over the phone said otherwise.

Warnings: none

A/n: Yaku canonically has 2 little brothers now🥰 this is basically a gift for bug anon and @hikari-writes​ anyways enjoy mwah!!💖

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

"Hi baby!" You happily chirped into the phone, "I'm excited for our date! It's been a while since we've gone on one."

There was a pause on the other end, you could hear shuffling and a few muffled giggles.

"Stop it you two! I'm sorry (y/n) but we're gonna have to postpone our date, my Aunt fell ill so my parents asked me to watch Yuji and Shiori While they go look after her. I'm really sorry I know how excited you were"

You let out a small laugh and shifted your phone to your other ear as you went to pick up your bag, "It's ok Mori, we can just reschedule for next weekend. How about I come over anyway? It sounds like you'll need the help."

"Ah you don't have to do that, I can usually handle them and I don't want you to-"

Yaku was cut off by the sound of a glass breaking followed by two voices

"ooooo Oniisan is gonna kill yooooou"

"No! He's gonna kill you because I didn't do it!"

Mori let out a tired sigh, "On second thought some help would be greatly appreciated."

"I'll be over in ten minutes, sit tight sweetie!"

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

The Yaku family home wasn't too far from yours, being only a little over an eight-minute walk away. You'd been there plenty of times throughout the years after befriending Morisuke in junior high; your younger self would probably explode if they knew you'd end up dating that cute boy with pretty eyes and wavy, toffee hair who walked home the same way you did. The Yaku's basically became your second home at this point so helping Mori watch his little brothers wasn't that rare of an event.

You hopped up the steps to the humble house and knocked on the door, which swang open a few seconds after revealing a flustered Yaku Morisuke.

"Thank you for helping (y/n), I’m sorry.. this isn't exactly what I had in mind for us today," he said as you walked in, pressing a kiss to your cheek in the process.

"I don't mind helping you out Mori, sure it's not the same as a dinner date but we always have fun when watching the boys," you offered him a smile, which he returned, and followed him into the main room where you were immediately tackled by his brothers.

"(Y/n)-chan!" Yuji jumped up from his seat, abandoning the gaming controller he was holding leaving Shiori to win the game they were currently playing, and bounced over to you to hug your waist. Shiori followed closely behind his older brother and latched on to your waist as well.

"Hey you two!" You wrapped an arm around both boys and hugged them back, both of them looked up at you with big smiles.

They were looking more and more like Morisuke each time you saw them -which was understandable seeing as they're all brothers.

Yuji, the older of the two, shared the same toffee hair as his elder brother but Shiori's, while similar, was a few shades darker than Mori's. All three of them had the same chocolate-colored eyes and delicate freckles dusted on their cheeks though.

"Alright get off them, this might surprise you two but they need to do this thing called breathing," Yaku said from where he was leaning against the couch.

Both boys pulled away, Shiori lingering a little longer, and then dragged you over to the couch to play videogames with you.

Videogames were the most popular form of entertainment whenever you came to watch them. Yuji was scary good at games and almost always won when the four of you played; he could honestly rival Kenma's abilities.

Because there were only three controllers Shiori always sat on your lap so the both of you could take turns, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was because he was a little more attached to you and liked to be near you.

"Are you sure you don't want to play (y/n)-chan?" Shiori looked up at you from his spot on your lap with an innocent look.

"I'm sure Shi, I'm having much more fun watching you play," you leaned closer to him and whispered," Plus, I can help you beat your brothers this way."

He grinned at you and looked forward again to the tv. It seemed as though today's game of choice was Smash Bros Ultimate.

The three brothers started the game with Yuji instantly knocking Mori off the map resulting in him to yell out in frustration. Yaku could be very petty when he wanted so he spent most of the game targeting Yuji, leaving Shiori to sit safely on the sidelines. The game was coming to a close with Mori and Yuji both having one life left. Mori took a wild chance and ended up hitting Yuji off the map making the younger boy cry out in shock. That's when you guided Shiori over to Mori's character and won the match.

"No fair! (y/n)-chan helped you Shiori!" Yuji whined.

"I have no idea what you mean Yuji," you gave him a smile as he pouted at you; he took gaming very seriously.

"Ok ok, stop attacking (y/n) and Shi, why don't we go outside for a bit? The both of you have been in here playing games all day," Yaku got up and turned off the gaming console and tv then turned back to look at the two boys.

"Oooook," they both said before racing to the door. They pushed at each other in attempts to sabotage the other causing you to laugh at their antics. You were so engrossed in the younger boys race that you didn't notice Yaku standing in front of you until he flicked your head.

"You totally helped him win, didn't you" Mori stated with a playful glare.

You got up and pressed a kiss to his nose, "Maybe I did maybe I didn't. Why? Do you want me to help you win next time?" Mori blushed at your response then teasingly hit your shoulder.

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

You and Yaku sat on the wooden porch together watching the younger boys kick around a soccer ball. Mori's arm was around your waist, his thumb occasionally rubbing soft circles into your hip.

"Niisan?" Shiori had diverged from Yuji and now stood in front of Mori and you, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"What's up bud?"

"Can...can you teach me how to play volleyball?"

Mori honestly looked like he could cry when the words 'teach me to play volleyball' left his little brother’s mouth. He'd been hoping that at least one of his brothers would become interested in the sport and it seemed quiet Shiori would be the one.

Mori stood up with a grin on his face, "Sure Shi! Come on, we'll teach you how to receive first."

You smiled watching Shiori run after Morisuke; Yuji and Shiori really looked up to him, it's like they think he hung the stars in the sky himself.

"Yuji!" You called out. The boy looked up from where he was kicking around the soccer ball, "Wanna come help me make dinner?"

"Yeah!"

Yuji happily trailed after you to the kitchen, hopping around from foot to foot as he blabbered on about a Tv show.

You honestly didn't know where he got all his energy from, everyone else in his family was significantly less hyper; though, his cheery attitude was one of your favorite things about him.

"Alright Yuji, what should we make?"

He stopped his bouncing and brought a hand to his chin, his face scrunching up as he pondered his options.

"Ramen!"

You gave him a nod and searched through the cabinets for the noodle packets you were, oh so familiar with. You pulled out enough for four people, placing them on the counter. You then moved to the refrigerator -just eating the packaged noodles wouldn't be the healthiest, so you decided to put your own spin on it. After a quick once over of the fridge you pulled out some carrots, spinach, and a few eggs.

"Ok Kiddo, I'm giving you a really important job. I want you to wash the carrots and spinach, think you can do that for me?"

"Yep!" Yuji gathered the vegetables in his arms and brought them over to the sink to start his job. Once you were sure he was safe, you started looking around for a pot and cutting board. You'd been to this house so many times but if there was one room you weren't familiar with it was the kitchen. Yaku's mother always insisted that she had everything handled and for you to go enjoy your time with Morisuke.

"(y/n)-chan I'm done!" Yuji called over his shoulder. He had perfect timing as you had just found a pot big enough to cook the noodles in.

You walked over to the sink, pot in hand, and gave Yuji a pat on the head -he was absolutely beaming at your approval.

"looks good, I'm gonna start cutting the carrots, fill this pot a little over halfway and then we can start making the noodles," Yuji nodded up at you and started filled the pot while you started cutting the veggies.

You were fully concentrated on your task, you didn't even hear the backdoor open.

"Careful!" You looked over your shoulder to find Mori taking the filled pot from Yuji, the latter had a slight pout spread over his face.

Yaku placed the pot on the stove top and turned back to the younger boy, "Don't do that next time, alright? You could have gotten hurt...it's ok to ask for help when you need it."

Yuji nodded pitifully, he's eyes down casted on the floor in a mix of shame and embarrassment. Mori huffed and ruffled Yuji's hair making him perk up a bit, "I think (y/n) and I've get it handled from here buddy. Go play with Shi, we'll call you both when the foods done."

"Ok!" All previous sadness had left Yuji as he instantly reverted back to his happy self, he bounced out of the kitchen and in the direction of he and Shiori's shared room.

"Thank you for helping Yuji!" You called out. His head popped out from the side of the doorway with a large smile on his face.

"you're welcome (y/n)-chan!"

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

After dinner and a few more rounds of Smash, Mori and you had tucked both boys into bed for the night.

You stretched your arms high into the air with a hum, "I should probably start walking home."

You felt Yaku latch onto your back, his chin resting on your shoulder and his strong arms pulling you into his chest.

"Nope you're staying here, I don't want you walking home this late."

You chuckled at him and leaned into his hold, he's always looking out for you.

"Ok...that means we're gonna go cuddle in your room, right?"

"Duh"

Being curled up with Mori was one of the best things on earth. Everything about the action was soft and warm; the embodiment of comfort.

"I love your brothers but they really are a handful."

"Try living with them," Yaku responded dryly.

You slapped his shoulder lightly causing him to chuckle at you.

You sighed, enjoying the feeling of Mori tracing random shapes on your back, and nuzzled further into his chest.

"How did Volleyball with Shiori go?"

"It was fun. He's not that bad of a receiver, though I think he'd make a better setter than a libero."

You hummed and placed a kiss on his jaw, "He does have the aspects of a good setter in him, liberos need to be a bit aggressive and crazy to throw themselves around and receive."

"Wow thanks babe," he deadpanned causing you to giggle at him.

"I loooove you~"

"Yeah, whatever you say," Yaku rolled his eyes then tickled your sides changing your giggles to full-on laughter. You shifted and twitch in feeble attempts to escape Yaku's grasp.

"OK OK IM SORRY, Y-YOU MADE YOUR POINT!!"

He stopped his attack and watched you with a soft look as you calmed down. That's when a sliver of light cut through the room like a knife making both You and Mori look towards the door.

"Oniisan...we heard a scary noise outside," Yuji stood in the doorway with Shiori behind him clinging to the back of his shirt.

Mori sat up, he may complain that his baby brothers were annoying but he still loved them with all his heart and couldn't stand to see them upset.

"Do you guys wanna stay with us tonight? (Y/n)-chan and I will make sure nothing scary comes to snatch you away"

Both boys nodded and rushed over to Yaku's bed; their brother was like a beacon of light and the bed a safe house, the childlike fear of standing in the dark room unprotected lapped at their minds.

You all had to squeeze to fit onto the bed but eventually, everyone got situated and relaxed. Both kids laid between you and Mori; Shiori was clinging to your waist with his face pressed into your stomach and Yuji was facing Mori hugging his arm.

Both Yuji and Shiori fell asleep instantly once in the comfort of You and Yaku.

You ran a hand through Shiori's wavy hair, you looked up to find Yaku watching you; he looked starstruck, an almost loopy smile on his face and a warm glow in his eyes. He reached over Yuji and Shiori and grabbed onto your free hand, his thumb ran up and down the back of it prompting you to close your eyes and start to drift off.

Everything was warm and cozy, nothing but the distant chirps of crickets and the soft breathing of the two sleeping boys filled your senses; the feeling of safety and protection evident in the air.

This single moment in time was better than any date Yaku could take you on.

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 5/8

Summary:

Une rencontre... un baiser... une mini dispute... Loki et Mobius se rapprochent et chacun dans leur temps se rend compte de ses sentiments...

Thank you for all the people who came aboard the ship of this story! Your comments are really the essence of my motivation. I hope you'll continue to enjoy your reading!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82281988

BiFrost Bar - 2021

Thor exclaimed, "Why didn't you say it was your birthday? We would have had a cake for you or something."

Loki replied with a gentle smile, "It's just the time passing. I hate to make a big deal out of it."

Thor looked at him with his piercing eyes, "You keep a lot to yourself don't you?"

Although lately he was starting to open up a little more, Loki couldn't argue with him.

Thor continued, "There's nothing wrong with that. But I sometimes wonder what else you have in your life besides work. A family? A girlfriend or a boyfriend?"

Loki remained silent at first, then, faced with Thor's kindness, he finally began to talk about himself.

Sigyn's House - 2019

Sigyn introduced Loki with enthusiasm, everyone toasting him, kissing him, congratulating him.

Loki tried with difficulty not to show that he was slightly annoyed.

They arrived near Mobius and Sylvie, who was really looking forward to leaving.

"Loki, I'd like you to meet, Mobius and uh... Sylvie. He's going to help us find our lake house."

"Hello." greeted them Loki.

Mobius replied, "Hi." while Sylvie nodded.

Seeing that they were holding their coats, Sigyn asked, "Are you guys already leaving?"

Mobius looked at them, his gaze fixed on Sigyn's arm around Loki's waist and replied, "No, we're staying."

He felt Sylvie's irritated look on him.

"Very well." said Sigyn, "Come on Loki, I still have some people to introduce you to."

Loki gave a small pinched smile and followed his enthusiastic girlfriend.

A little later, Mobius was looking for a bathroom and in doing so, passed by the door of a room, half-opened. Inside, Sigyn was kissing Loki.

Mobius stepped back quickly and heard Sigyn ask, "Were you surprised?"

Loki replied in a tone that Mobius found dull, "Yes, I was. When are they going to leave?"

Sigyn asked worriedly, "What's the matter Loki?"

Loki sighed and replied, "Nothing. I'm fine... It's just I had a long day, plus the crowded train, I don't know. I guess I thought we'd be alone tonight."

Sigyn protested, "But these are my friends, Lo. They're going to be our friends. I want you to get to know them. We're going to make a life here."

"I know. I know..."

BiFrost Bar - 2021

"We moved in together when I finished college of the arts. He had rented this big house. A beautiful place, on the north side of town. We were going to live there forever. That was the plan."

Thor, who was listening intently, asked him softly, "What happened?"

Loki shrugged, "The problem is that it was his plan not mine."

Thor nodded, understanding.

Loki pulled himself together, "No, I'm not being fair. I thought I wanted it too. I don't know. Anyway, I ended it."

Thor put his hand on his arm and said, "That's your right Loki. You don't have to justify yourself, whatever your reasons, you had the right to end the relationship."

He took a sip of beer before continuing, "But then, who are you writing to?"

Loki didn't answer. He didn't know how to explain Mobius.

At Loki's silence, Thor added softly, "Sorry. It's none of my business."

Loki shook his head, "No, it's okay. You're right, there is someone."

He twirled his glass in his hands to give himself a little composure.

"It's kind of a... long-distance relationship."

"For how long?"

Loki sighed, "a long time."

Thor looked interested, "How did you two meet?"

Loki swallowed and replied, "We haven't met."

"What?"

"We just write letters to each other."

Thor laughed, "Is this a joke?"

Loki shook his head again, "No, I promise."

"You mean, it's like a pen pal?"

Loki nodded his head...

Thor laughed, but Loki didn't join him and drained his glass. before continuing, a little sadly, "It's the story of my life. Keeping everything at an appropriate and safe distance. Everyone... The girl who loved me, who wanted to marry me, I pushed her away, I run, I run away all the time. While now, the only man I can never meet... him, I want to give him all my heart."

Thor squeezed his hand and looked at him with a compassionate eye, "So you've never really talked face to face?"

" Nev-" Loki paused, suddenly realizing something, "No. Wait.  One time..."

Sigyn's House - 2019

Loki left the house after his discussion with Sigyn. He really needed a break. He sat down on the stairs and suddenly realized he was not alone. Mobius was there too, alone.

The silence lingered, neither of them knowing what to say.

Then suddenly Mobius said simply, "Happy birthday."

Loki growled and replied, "If one more person comes up and says that to me tonight I'll kill them."

Mobius looked apologetic and stepped back a little in surrender.

Loki sighed, "Sorry for the reaction, I know it's not a big deal. Just one more year. I guess I'm not really in the mood to party."

Mobius replied, "Neither am I actually."

"So what are you doing here?" asked Loki, curious.

Mobius hesitated and replied, sitting down on the steps next to Loki. "I was hoping... to meet someone."

"Who?"

"Someone Sigyn told me about."

Loki nodded, "Ah. A reunion?"

Mobius chuckled, "Sort of."

"So what are you waiting for?"

Mobius sighed, "I'm trying to get some courage."

Loki smiled, "I understand." He tightened his arms around himself, feeling the coolness of the night and asked, "So you're the one who's going to find us a house on the lake, right?"

Mobius, sure of himself replied in a confident voice, "Yes, I will."

Loki was a little taken aback by the assurance of his answer.

"Are you a real estate agent?"

"No, I have a house above the lake."

Loki looked surprised and Mobius added, "And you're going to rent it after I move out." He coughed and pulled himself together, "I mean, you could. If you want to."

"When are you moving?

Mobius replied, "I'm...not sure. I guess once you finish your PhD in literature?"

Loki glared at him.

Mobius wanted to smack himself on the head and tried to make things up, "Sigyn said you were in the College of Arts and studying literature."

He paused and the silence was awkward.

Loki looked confused and Mobius felt he had lost the thread of the conversation, if there ever was one.

"What makes you think we would like it? How can you be sure."

Mobius replied seriously, "You'll like it."

Loki asked point blank, "Can you swim?"

Mobius replied, "Sure, I took lessons when I was a kid."

Loki shook his head laughing, "No, I mean, can you swim from home?"

"Oh."

Mobius laughed with Loki.

"Uh no. You can't. That's a downside. There's no path to the water."

"That's a shame."

Mobius nodded before adding, "Actually, I thought... You'd have to see it, but I always had the idea that I could change it. Nothing major. But a few new elements could really transform the house. A deck in the back that would be over the lake. And stairs…," Mobius paused, embarrassed by his enthusiasm when Loki wasn't supposed to have seen the house.

Loki continued his sentence though,"Stairs that go down to the water?"

Mobius nodded, "Yeah. That's it, like a gentle curve down... So you could go out the back door and down to the lake whenever you feel like it."

"That sounds really nice."

Loki turned his head toward the house where the party was still in full swing. He sighed, "It's pretty late. Shouldn't you go back? If you want to find the woman of your dreams tonight?"

Mobius replied with a wink, "Actually, that would be the man of my dreams."

"Oh..."

"Does that bother you?" asked Mobius.

"Oh no, I'm just surprised, pleasantly surprised to know that I'm not the only one here who's attracted to a little bit of both."

Loki gave him a teasing shoulder nudge. Mobius chuckled in response and added, "To answer your question, I'm not interested in finding the man of my dreams, I'm much better off here."

Loki blushed slightly at the implication of Mobius' words.

Mobius asked him gently, "Loki, have you read Persuasion by Jane Austen?"

Loki startled slightly and replied in surprise, "It's my favorite book. Why?"

"I have a friend who likes it."

Loki replied with a half smile, "Your friend has good taste."

"Yes he does." Mobius replied, a playful glint in his eye before adding, "I've been meaning to read it. Could you tell me a little about it?"

Loki waited a little and thought before answering. He wrapped his hands around his knees and began to speak with his chin in his lap, "It's about... waiting. These two people meet. They almost fall in love, but it's not the right time, and they have to part ways. Then, years later, they meet again. They have another chance. But they don't know if too much time has passed, if they've waited too long, if it's too late to make things work."

Mobius replied, "That sounds sad."

Loki shook his head, "It's not. Not at the end. I wouldn't have read it, I hate books that don't have a happy ending."

They were sitting pretty close to each other, Loki straightened up a bit and turned his head to Mobius who had also just moved closer.

They looked at each other for a long moment before simultaneously leaning towards each other until their lips met.

They kissed for a long time, forgetting everything around them. Both of them felt a sense of adequacy, of harmony at that moment. After a while, Loki pulled back and hesitantly said, "I don't know why I did that."

Mobius replied softly, "We did this, not just you, I'll try to explain..."

He was leaning again on Loki who did not move back when the door behind them opened on Sigyn and Sylvie.

Mobius and Loki quickly separated and both stood up at the same time, looking like children caught with their hand in the jam jar.

Sigyn and Sylvie could see that they had interrupted something. There was an awkward silence until Loki decided to break it, "Oh, Sigyn, hey. Uh, Mobius was just telling me about his house. It sounds really great."

Sigyn, his face set like stone, replied in an icy voice, "Great."

Loki turned to Mobius and continued, "We're, uh, definitely interested."

Mobius nodded and replied, "Good. I'll be in touch."

He stared at Loki for a few seconds and then whispered as he looked toward the ground, "I promise."

Sylvie, her eyes flashing, intervened, holding out his coat. "Mobius. It's late."

Mobius reluctantly followed her, taking one last look at Loki before heading for his pickup.

The return drive passed in dead silence and he dropped Sylvie off in front of her house. At the moment of closing the door of the car she said to him bitterly, "You know, if you didn't want anything to do with me, Mobius, you should have just told me. I know I'm intrusive but you never say anything, because you never want to hurt people. But not saying anything can hurt too you know."

Mobius felt bad that he had really hurt Sylvie.

"I'm really sorry. I... I'm not very good at this. I really like you as a... friend, but I don't want to go any further. I... I am in love with someone else."

He was surprised by the admission he had just made to himself. For the first time.

Sylvie seemed to notice and her face softened a bit.

"It'll take me a little while, but don't stop coming to the store or talking to me because of it, okay. I like you as a friend too, not just a love interest. I don't want to lose our friendship. So I'll probably give you a hard time the next few days, but that's okay."

Mobius nodded, moved by Sylvie's kindness, "I... Thanks."

She didn't answer anything, closed the car door gently and went home.

Mobius drove in a daze back to the house on the hill and was surprised to see that the mailbox flag was up.

He opened it and grabbed the little note that was inside.

Oh, my God. It was you.

I remember you.

Why didn't you tell me who you were?

I'm waiting by the box, I know you're home around this time, so you can answer right away

Two years apart, the same conversation, rhythmed by the movement of the small flag.

M -You would have thought I was crazy.

L -But I liked you. That was our chance. You should have told me.

M -And your girlfriend?

L -What about your girlfriend?

M -She's not my girlfriend!

L -Well, she's not my boyfriend!

M -She was then! I mean, she is now.

L -Your 'now', not mine! And maybe the 'now' would be different if you had said something back then. Maybe now would have come sooner, or maybe now would be our now, not just my now, you know?

M - No! I don't know!

2021 - Loki's apartment

Loki reread their conversation, grumbled in frustration, and threw the letter across the room, exasperated. A missed opportunity. Croki spun around his feet and rubbed his legs, as if to comfort him.

2019 - Mobius House

Mobius, equally frustrated when he saw that Loki did not answer, threw away his pencil and stomped toward the house. Once inside, he slumped in his armchair, sighed and looked thoughtfully through the bay window as Croki came to lie down and put his head on his feet, sensing his master's trouble.

_________

Fortunately, Croki is there to support them... but will they finally meet? How about a date?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 02 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

Word count: 2.9K

<- Previous part (01)

Next part (03)->

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Feelings

On the next morning, you make your way to the back of the hotel, where a van will come to pick you up. You're talking to Vicky through the phone, listening to her advice and tips for today. She won't be around as much this time, she wants you to build your own connections, but she will be aware of everything that's going on. The co-stars you'll be working with today are a few feet ahead, chatting, and they haven't noticed you yet. You don't mind though. They've been acting together for two years now, you wouldn't have anything to add to their conversations anyway.

“(Y/N).” The voice makes you turn around, seeing Dacre as he walks over you. “Morning.”

“Vicky, I gotta go. Talk to you later. Bye.” Quickly, maybe too quick, you hang up, focusing on Dacre. “Hi. Good morning.” Nervously, you gesture at the others. “You should go stay with them. The van is almost here.”

“I'll introduce you to them, c'mon.” With a hand on the small of your back, barely touching you though, he guides you to the small group of people. “Hey, guys. Good morning. This is (Y/N), our Amy.”

“Hi there,” Joe says, reaching out his hand which you shake. “I'm Joe.”

“Natalia.” One of the girls says. You already know their names, but decide to let them formally introduce themselves. “These are Charlie and Francesca. But you can call her Fran.”

“Hello.” You mutter, shaking their hands before stepping back to stand beside Dacre.

“Heard you two shot together yesterday,” Joe says, typing something on his phone before putting it on his pocket. “I was there earlier but I think I left before you got there.”

“Yes. And I must say (Y/N) was amazing.” Dacre speaks before you can, and you blush at his compliment. You didn't do much, you think, it was just a simple scene. More complicated things will come.

“Thanks, but you were great too. I'm just trying to keep up.”

“It's good to see you're modest,” Francesca remarks, giving you a small smile.

“Just saying the truth.” You're still speaking when the van arrives, and the guys gesture for the girls to get in first.

You move to the back of the van since it's always been your favorite seat, resting the script on your lap before buckling up.

“May I seat here?” Dacre gets your attention, and you look away from the window, meeting his eyes.

“Sure.” You don't want him to feel like he has to be around you just because he was the first person you met from the show. But you won't just push him away like that. “Did you sleep well?”

“I managed.” He answers. “You?”

“I did.” Once again, you fall into silence. There isn't much you can talk about other than work. “Excited about today? Amy and Billy will have another confrontation.”

“Poor Billy. Amy's going to steal his heart.” He puts a hand over his chest and you giggle.

“He kinda deserves it. After breaking so many hearts.” Shrugging your shoulders, your mind goes through the scenes of the day. You'll have another one with Dacre alone. “I–”

“Hey. Why are you guys seated all the way in the back?” Joe asks, turning his head to look at you and Dacre. “Come–”

“They're talking. Let them be.” Natalia pulls Joe back into his seat, giving you a stare and a smile.

Blushing a little, you exchange a glance with Dacre before looking down at your hands. “You can go be with them if you want.” You decide to let him know.

“I'm alright here,” Dacre affirms. “Is there anything you want to talk about our scene today? Any ideas for something we could do better?”

“The director wants tension, so we have to focus on that.” Opening the script, you easily find today's pages, since they were marked. “Like here. You could keep stepping closer and I'd keep pushing you away. They're both nervous since they're talking about the Mind Flayer, but it would break that tension with a different kind of tension.”

“I like that. It can work.” Dacre leans over a little to read, standing closer. “Amy could give Billy a push, what would make him a little mad, but not the usual kind of mad. James wants me to convince the audience Billy will have strong, true feelings towards Amy, so I think it will help. He won't be as aggressive with her as he is with everyone else.”

You only get half of what he says, suddenly distracted by his voice. “Yeah, I like that.” You watch as his fingers trace the paper, following the dialogue lines. “You have a nice accent by the way.”

“I'm Australian.”

“I noticed.” When you turn your head to look at him, and he does the same, you take in how close he is, quickly looking back down. He has nice eyes too. “I think it'll be fun.”

“I hope I won't make you uncomfortable. Basically, all of our scenes together involve some kind of proximity.”

“You won't.” Uncomfortable is not the word to describe it. Dacre does make you a little nervous, but any girl would be nervous acting with someone who looks like him. You realize he probably misunderstood your gesture from before, looking away from him so abruptly. “I don't feel uncomfortable. And I agree with you. We should get to know each other, I think it would help.”

“It would.” The van bounces suddenly, what gets a tiny exclamation from Joe. “So. What's your favorite color?”

The silly question makes you giggle, putting a lock of hair behind your ear. “Pink. Definitely. But I also love blue and lilac.” Taking a deep breath, you decide to look at him, just to make sure you'll kick away whatever he was thinking when you averted your eyes from him. “Yours?”

“Red.”

“Only one?”

“Yes. I'm a normal person, unlike you.” Despite the sassy comment, Dacre is smiling, sustaining your stare.

“So you're normal? That's a shame. I don't befriend normal people.” Closing the script, you take a look through the window, admiring how the sunlight gives everything a golden shine.

“It was good while it lasted then.” He says, and you bite your lip involuntary. “Who's your favorite character in the show?”

“Amy.” You're quick to answer, turning to look at him again. When the car takes a turn, the morning sun casts its light right on Dacre's face, illuminating it. His blue eyes get your attention, and you notice they remind you of LA's beach, near your house. Shaking your head lightly, you snap back into reality. “It's my character. I own her that much.”

“That's favoritism. You can't pick her.”

“Who would you pick then, Mr. Montgomery?” He giggles at the name.

“I like Maxine.” He answers. “She's badass and I admire her for enduring such an awful step-brother.”

“I like Dustin. His voice is funny.”

“Here I was thinking you had a deeper reason for liking Dustin.” Dacre fakes a disappointed tone, but a small chuckle escapes his lips.

“You're a deep person then.” You conclude, giving him a quick glance.

“You can say so. Aren't you?”

Guys don't usually like thoughtful girls, you know that. At least not the ones you went out with. People, in general, don't like that, so you learned to keep things for yourself. “We can say I think a lot. But I don't usually put it into words.”

“Why not?”

You get the feeling Dacre knows he hit something inside you. Something he doesn't understand, but he knows it's there, that it's delicate. You can tell that by the change in his voice, all the joking tones left behind, replaced by a much serious expression. Guess you can tell him, it's not a big deal. “My father once told me I feel too much. That, just like my mother, I suffocate people with all my... Feelings.” Breathing out, you can't help but remember the fight you had that day, many years ago. “It was ugly. Everyone was yelling, I was a teenager and just had my heart broken by this stupid guy so... It just kicked in. I pretty much closer some doors that day.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don't be. It's not a big deal.” Isn't it? You're not sure, but you tell yourself it isn't. Going back there won't help, won't solve any problems, won't change anything.

“Of course it is. It clearly affected you.”

“How do you know it affected me?”

“Your voice changed, so did your posture.”

Gasping, you look at Dacre. People don't notice these things. They just say they're sorry and change the subject. “You're very... Perceptive.”

“Well, I don't think feelings are a problem. If he felt suffocated that was all on him. Not you or your mother.” Taken aback by his words, you can't help but smile at how kind he is. “Anytime you need to talk about anything, I'm willing to listen.”

“Thanks, you're–” The driver hits the breaks, and when you look through the window, you realize you're at the set. “We're here.”

“May the fun begin.”

An hour later, you're in a dark pink swimsuit, shooting a scene with Natalia for the third time. This is about Heather, already taken by the Mind Flayer, making her first appearance at the pool. The director, who now you know is named James, makes several changes for every take, but you and Natalia just have to repeat the lines.

“So. You were talking to Dacre.” She says in between takes, as you wait to see if there will be another one or if you can go on to the next scene. Natalia gives you a look that makes you blush. You didn't know she was paying attention to you and Dacre in the back of the van. “You two getting along?”

“Yeah. He is–”

“Alright, everyone. Heather's coming down and Billy is entering the pool. It's a quick one, so let's get it done in one take if possible.” James announces, and you lay back down in the chair, happy that this conversation was cut short. “Everybody ready? Action!”

Everything sets in motion, and Hawkins Community Pool comes to life once again. You engage in small talk with Natalia as Heather climbs down her chair, walking by.

“Is she alright?” Nancy asks Amy, eyes following Heather.

“She must be sick.” You tell her before the cameras leave you, all turning to the locker, from where Dacre is already coming from.

You know your part. Exchange a glance when he's close by and look away, annoyed.

But that's not what happens. When he comes close, you do give him the look, the cameras now focusing on you, but the whole thing vanishes. Your mind is blank as you just keep staring, a weird sensation building up when you realize you're watching Billy Hargrove right before your eyes. But when he walks by, you see he breaks character for a moment, as if wondering what you're doing. Of course he thinks you're improvising. So Billy's face comes up again, eyes lingering on you until he passes by, and you break out of your state, looking away.

“What was that?” Nancy asks, and you wonder if that's Nancy or just Natalia, because the line isn't on the script.

“Nothing.” Your answer.

“Cut!” James yells and you relax, taking a deep breath. “(Y/N), I liked what you did. Good job! Five minutes everyone.”

“What was that?” Natalia asks again, in a different tone this time, making it clear it's her who's asking. “Did you improvise?”

“Sure.” Getting up from the chair, you follow her to the resting area they set up for you. “Just thought it would give him the tension he wants too much.” Lying is not your thing, but what can you say? That your mind went blank? That you forgot the whole script for a moment and Dacre's reaction was what saved you so you wouldn't be looking like a total idiot?

“You did well then.” She takes a water bottle, taking a sip. She doesn't seem so convinced though. “Oh, we'll start gathering to go over the Starcourt scenes. They'll be heavy and everyone agreed on start working on them so it won't be so messy on set.”

“It's a great idea. When will it happen?” The Battle of Starcourt is the most complicated and longest scenes of the season, and you're glad they want to go over it.

“We have a group chat. I can add you so you'll know when we'll meet.”

“I can add her,” Dacre says and you turn on your heels, giving a step closer to Natalia. “I have her number.”

“Great.” She exclaims, drumming her fingers on the table. “I'll go find Charlie and Joe. We got a scene together later today.”

“Ok.” You mumble, waving at her as she leaves. “Nice tan.” The words come out of your mouth the moment your eyes involuntary fall from his face to his chest. “Now I know why Billy turns every head when he walks by.” Thinking fast, you manage to bring some sense into whatever you were talking about.

“You also look amazing in this–”

“Dacre, (Y/N). C'mon.” The director calls and Dacre rolls his eyes, making you giggle.

“Guess this is our cue.” He says, gesturing for you to walk before him. “Are you nervous? We're going to be face to face again.”

“No.” It comes out too fast, and you're sure he can tell you feel the exact opposite. You weren't thinking about it, but now you are. “I'm alright.” You're walking beside him, near the pool to where James is gathered with some people, getting things ready for the scene. “I think Amy–” The words get caught in your throat when your bare feet slips on a puddle, but instead of colliding to the ground, you're pulled up quickly, heart beating fast from the sudden motion.

“Are you alright?” Dacre asks, his hand still resting on the small of your back, and the other holding your arm, making sure you have your balance again.

“Yes.” Now you definitely look like an idiot. “Sorry.” When you raise your head to meet his eyes, you clear your throat and step back.

“Don't worry, I got you.”

“(Y/N), are you ok?” The director asks and you nod, walking fast over him. “Good. Let's get this going.”

This scene is the confrontation about what happened in the road. And you're supposed to be 100% focused, the lines at the tip of your tongue, but as you breathe in deeply to get into character, you can't help but feel restless. Maybe if you do manage to befriend Dacre it'll get easier. Hopefully.

“Ready, everyone.” The command comes and you prepare yourself, quickly replaying the lines in your head. “Action!”

In Amy's skin, you start walking back to your chair, carelessly running a hand through your hair when your arm is grabbed suddenly, and you stop, turning around to face the source of the attack. Anger takes over your expression the moment your eyes, or better saying, Amy's eyes, find Billy. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“We need to talk.” That said, he pulls you with him, away from the people.

“We have nothing to talk about.” Amy keeps fighting but still trying not to let anyone notice. Billy drags her behind the supply closet, away from curious eyes and ears. “Let go of me!” With a push, you set free from his grip.

“Well, did you tell anyone?”

“Tell what? That we saw a huge alien monster made of darkness?” You whisper-yell, looking into his eyes and giving a step back, just to figure out there's a wall trapping you. “Of course I didn't.”

Dacre steps closer, his chest pressing you further into the wall. “Then you saw it too. Right?”

It takes a while until you remember the line, and what you're supposed to do since the proximity clouded your mind. With both hands on his chest, you push Dacre away. “Yes, I did. It was after me.” You mutter as Dacre plays his part, surrendering into your push before coming closer again.

You take a deep breath, struggling to remain in character, annoyed and anxious, who can't wait for Billy to go away. “I...” He stutters. “I forgot it. Sorry, I got distracted.”

“Alright, let's roll it again from 'Did you tell anyone'. I want constant eye contact this time. Action!”

You get exactly two seconds to take in the command and set it into motion, but you do as you're told, raising your head slightly so you're staring at Dacre.

“Well, did you tell anyone?”

“Tell what? That we saw a huge alien monster made of darkness?” You've seen blue eyes before, but not that blue. It startles you a little when Dacre steps closer, and in an attempt to put some distance in between you two, you move back, hitting the wall. “Of course I didn't.” You manage to push out.

“Then you saw it too... Right?” Dacre changes his tone, and you get the idea. Billy is confused, not really convinced that what he saw was real.

“Yes. It was after me first in case you don't remember.” Keeping the annoyed tone in your voice, you have Amy push Billy away, now, slightly aware of your hand on Dacre's bare chest. Keep it professional, you tell yourself. This is a job. “And stay away from me.”

“That thing...” He steps closer again, ignoring Amy's requirement. “...What was it?”

“I really need you to stay away.” Another push, but this time Dacre grabs your arm, leaning even closer, putting a hand on the wall beside your head. You roll your eyes, breaking eye contact just for the sake of your character before she slips away again. Regaining your senses, you look up into his eyes.

“Sorry, if I'm making you nervous, princess, but I can't have anyone else listening to this crazy talk.” He gives you his wicked smile, the one that makes the girls melt.

That's it. That's the moment when Amy stands up to him, and you have to nail it because honestly, you don't think you can do this again. So you stand up straight, ending the tiny distance that was left between you and Dacre, between Amy and Billy, chests colliding and eyes burning with anger and indignation. “You think you can flash a smile and have all the girls of Hawkings at your feet but I won't fall for it.” You hiss, standing on your toes just a little bit, trying to match his height, but, of course, it doesn't happen. Dacre still towers over you. “So drop the bad boy act, jerk, and if you want to focus on the real problem here, the freaking thing coming from the sky hunting us, you're free to talk to me.” Then you leave, storming away, leaving the shooting area before turning around to get a glimpse of Dacre's acting. Billy keeps staring at the place where Amy went, which makes Dacre look straight at you. You see Billy's surprise face, filled with perplexion, not able to believe what just happened. Then, it softens, as he slowly goes back into Dacre.

“And cut! Jesus, it was amazing.” James exclaims, standing from his chair. “I don't think we should do another take, despite thinking a kiss would fit well in the scene.”

Your eyes go wide as you stare at James, who looks pleased with his work. You thought you'd have more time before kissing Dacre. To get to know him, so it won't be a mess like it was right now. You don't even know how it was possible for it to be so good as James says. You were all over the place.

“But no, it will be better on screen to build up the tension until it explodes. You did very well, you two.” James friendly touches your shoulder. “I can see you're still a little nervous, but it's normal since you basically just met Dacre.” He gestures at him, who comes to join you, and James puts an arm around his shoulder. “Perhaps you should get together and work on the kissing scene. See how you feel, how you could make it even better because every time you improvise, it gives me goosebumps and I like it. You two have chemistry.” His voice gets a little higher on the last word, and he let's go of you two. “So this is a little homework. Go over that scene and let me know if you think anything should be different.”

When James leaves, you're blushing, his words echoing in your brain. Homework? Does he really want you to do that? “Like a read-through?” You ask.

“You already did a read-through. Do the real thing. Or even better.” He turns around, walking backwards. “Get it on camera and send me so I can check how you two are doing. Amy and Billy are this season's power couple, I want it to be amazing. You're both doing great and that's why I want to take this to a whole new level.” And he sets in motion again, gesturing for someone to give him something. “Now get ready, I want to shot Heather's scene again.”

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittysstuff @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

mAY I PLEASE REQUEST FOR YAKU MY BABY YAKULT YAKU 🤧😭 njsjJSNjs maybe a friends to lovers kinda thing? how they met, got together, how they are during the time they're together >.< and maybe throw in some teasing where the s/o teases yaku for his height lightheartedness even though the s/o's even shorter than him whjdj and ofc gotta throw in some classic boyfie hoodies/shirts from yaku👉👈 idk if a hc or oneshot is easier for you so please feel free to use whichever format's more comfy💕 and thank you for always writing such amazing work heh💓💕💖💝💗

hey anon!!

I haven't gotten the opportunity to write for yaku so im honestly kind of excited that I get to bless the yaku simps (づ◡﹏◡)づ

he definitely isn't a character that's on my mind often but I have to admit he is super underrated 

im not super familiar with his personality so I apologize if anything is ooc

alsooo ty for such kind words, my heart is full ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

anywhooo I hope you enjoy!!

(sorry if it’s a little choppy/messy >_<)

•Friends to Lovers HC w/ Yaku•

warnings: none

genre: pure fluff

character: yaku

Yaku Morisuke

you had been friends with him ever since your second year of middle school

during your first year, you had noticed him from afar but hadn’t really talked with him besides a few hellos and good mornings

it wasn’t as if you weren’t interested in getting to know him but you had never really got the opportunity to have a proper conversation with him

he had always been occupied with volleyball and your schedules never gave you a chance to cross paths otherwise

however, the year after, you fortunately had been given very similar schedules which allowed you to introduce yourself to the boy in question

you two immediately clicked and grew closer then either of you would have ever expected

despite your comfortable friendship,your platonic emotions towards yaku slowly morphed into romantic feelings over the years

at first, it was little things like subconsciously watching his lips move when he spoke

but over time you begin feeling butterflies storm your stomach just from him being near or stuttering when you spoke to him

you had started to realize that this feeling towards him was no longer the same as when you two had first met

honestly, you didn't know what to do and spent quite a while trying to sort out you emotions 

while this was plaguing your mind, you didn’t notice that the libero reciprocated your feelings

but his team most certainly did

how could they miss the faint blush that painted yaku’s face whenever your name was mentioned or how his breath hitched at any sudden contact between the two of you

with this, yaku got the shit teased out of him until he was finally pushed to confess even so, the boys didn't go without a scolding from him for being so obnoxious

he had already mentally prepared himself to be rejected and have the strong bond between the two of you broken when he selfishly opened up 

this is why he was so shocked when you embraced him, letting him know that you had felt the same way

normally, he didn't condone the nosiness of his fellow club members but just this once, he could let it slide

you and yaku worked really well together, but being a great couple was expected with how good of friends you already were

yaku was a really great boyfriend

it wasn't a huge surprise with his natural motherly instincts and his love for you but it was still a big improvement with how you had been treated by people in the past

even though he wasn't a huge fan of pda, he always showed how much he cared for you

it didn't matter if it was placing his hand on the small of you back to guide you away from a potential accident or buying a coffee from the vending machine when he noticed you dozing off in class

he managed to express his emotions without getting crap from his friends

however, when the two of you were alone was when you really got to see his soft side though

he would intertwine your fingers when you two walked down the road or wrap his arms around your waist when you two were lying on the couch watching movies

and you never missed the small kisses that were placed on your temple when he thought you were asleep

although yaku was pretty short tempered with his teammates, he always seemed to have patience for you

sure you two bickered from time to time as couples do, but he always took the time to sit down and talk through things with you

the thing that you and the boys did have in common was his tendency to subconsciously babysit you all

you found him always checking to make sure you ate well, drank enough water, and got a good amount of rest

he made sure to watch over you and keep you out of trouble considering you were so close with team there was bound to be chaos 

he was never over bearing with anything though, and besides you knew that he couldn't help himself when it came to things like that

it was apart of his personality to take on the role of a caretaker and honestly, you found it quite sweet

yaku loved spending time with you

he didn't care what you two did, as long as you did it together

as cheesy as it sounded, it was true

his favorite dates were always the ones spent at either one of your houses

there was just something about staying in and enjoying your company that made those memories so much more special 

of course he didn't mind venturing out of his comfort zone and trying different things with you

but as cute as you were, you were also a little thief 

you constantly stole his clothes

hoodies, shirts, sweatpants, beanies, etc.

you name it and you probably had it in your possession

has much as he wanted to be irritated with your criminal activity, you looked way too good wearing his things

hell, you looked better then him in everything you wore

and he honestly couldn't complain since you always returned everything eventually and it always came back smelling like you which was a definite plus

one of your favorite pastimes was teasing your boyfriend

mainly about his height

which was pretty ironic considering, you were shorter than him??

he would always rebuttal with a snarky remark about your own height, earning a pout from you mission failed y/n, mission failed

of course the torment was never in a serious way and it was just nice knowing that you two could be comfortable with one another like that.

yaku was very passionate about volleyball, you had known that since middle school

you had always come to every one of his games being his best friend and all

but the game after you two had made things official, you decided to show your support by wearing his spare jersey 

as soon as he saw you, he broke yes y/n you broke your beloved boyfriend, go put him in rice or something pls and ty

you just looked so amazing and he couldn't believe that you had that much faith in him to be standing up there representing him 

he was on the brink of tears but he pulled himself together and stepped on that court with all the passion he could muster

safe to say, that was one of the best games he had ever played

as soon as you came down to congratulate him he pulled you into a tight hug and asked you to wear his jersey at every game you were already planning to but hearing the request whispered softly into your neck was nice too

if your boyfriend had to name one of his favorite sounds it would have to be your soft snores

when you two would spend the night with each other, you would always end up falling asleep first, but he never minded 

in all honesty, you looked so peaceful when you slept, it lulled him to sleep too

the way you would lay your head on his chest, just close enough to be able to smell the sweet scent of your shampoo and the way your chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of your breaths

he usually found himself dozing off while running his fingers through your hair

but before he joined you in dreamland, he always made sure to let you know one thing,

“I love you Y/N, more then you know.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[smileyoongle]

Idol BTS! Doing a live together

Requested by @twiwwo

I hope you like it.... sorry for the delay. Took me long enough to complete this. Let's get it....

Kim Seokjin:

You pushed the door open with your hip while trying to balance the plates of food in your hand. Your boyfriend, Jin, wasn't feeling very good so you offered to take care of him. You narrowed your eyes when you saw him doing a live. A few minutes ago, he was lying in bed while complaining about how he was probably gonna die. Setting the food down, you sighed and turned to leave without a word when he grabbed your hand to stop you. "So my beloved Y/N is here and like I said she's gonna be joining me in today's EATJIN!" He announced as he pulled you to sit beside him. You gawked at him but you weren't really surprised. This was typical of him to do. And it wasn't like you hadn't joined his live before. You smiled and turned to the screen, greeting all the viewers. "So let's get to it then. Just a little warning though, Y/N's a terrible cook so if I seem a little out of it, please forgive me." He said, picking up the chopsticks, his comment making you gasp. "Excuse me?! You know what, I'm a terrible cook, right? Then maybe you should make your own food." You glared at him and placed your hands on your hips. Jin suppressed a smile from etching itself into his face. He absolutely loved teasing you. It was the most fascinating thing to him. But before he could snap back into reality, he saw you leaving the room with the food. He let out a small whine and grabbed the phone before chasing after you. The half of the live consisted of him convincing you that you made even better food than him and you wrapping up the live due to Jin falling asleep on camera.

Kim Namjoon:

You stole a glance at Namjoon, who was busy doing a live about his new studio, while you tried to fix the figurine he had broken. Smiling, you shook your head and continued to join the broken pieces again. It made you really happy to see how content he looked when he talked on his lives. Getting deeply engrossed in putting together the last detached piece, you didn't notice that your boyfriend had now pointed the camera at you. Namjoon let out a low chuckle before mumbling 'cute' when he saw the way you, involuntarily, stuck your tongue out. You let out a squeal as soon as you fixed the figurine, before clamping a hand over your mouth. You looked at Namjoon to see him laughing while the live stream displayed everything you just did. "How long have you been recording me?" You whined and hid your face with your hands. Moving from the chair to the couch where you sat, Namjoon pulled your hands and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He leaned his cheek against yours. "Everyone, say hi to this saviour beside me. She saves things from the danger of being damaged by me." He said, making you laugh. The comments were filled with how adorable both of you were. In an awful attempt to give you a hug, Namjoon let the phone slip from his hands. You both stared at the cracked screen while the fans wondered what caused the sudden disruption. "Not again..." You mumbled as you shut your eyes before walking out of the studio, leaving Namjoon to figure out how to deal with this.

Min Yoongi:

Yoongi was doing a live while you baked cookies in the kitchen. Music was heard through the speaker placed on top of the counter. You started dancing while gathering all the ingredients in one place. Yoongi stood leaning on the counter while he showed his fans what you were up to. He let out a low laugh making you turn around immediately. You widened your eyes while he walked towards you. "This is what the person you all, so desperately, wanted to see was doing." He said to the live stream. You lightly hit his shoulder and went back to making your cookies. Yoongi placed the phone on the counter so that you both were visible. Soon the kitchen was a mess while both of you baked the cookies together. You mixed the ingredients while Yoongi handed them to you one by one. Finally, you put the cookies in the oven and sat down on the floor. Yoongi grabbed the phone and you both talked to the fans until the cookies finished baking. You took the tray out and tried to cool down one cookie. "Review time!" You grinned at the screen and took a bite. Instantly, you grimaced and stared at the cookie. "What is it?" Yoongi asked, taking the cookie from you and taking a bite. He coughed and made a face similar to yours. "I think I handed you the salt instead of the sugar." He concluded causing the fans to send millions of laughing emojis. Not wanting to waste the cookies, you both packed them nicely and decided to give them to the members. This live was by far the best live that you and Yoongi did. "The next live will be the reaction of the members to these awful cookies so stay tuned!" Yoongi announced, throwing up his signature gang signs, sending you into fits of laughter.

Jung Hoseok:

Hoseok was doing his usual 'Hope on the street' practice. He told you that he needed a partner for this and you agreed to help him. What you didn't know was that he was going to live stream the practice. You suddenly didn't like this idea anymore, his fans had only seen you in photos but today they would see you on live and this made you nervous. "Y/N, I promise they're gonna love you!" Hoseok said while he held your hand. When the live started, you pretended that there was no one watching you. And soon enough, you were laughing hysterically as you danced with Hoseok. He was still teaching you the dance. When you two got tired, you proceeded to take a break. You answered a couple of fan questions before going back to dance. Hoseok was busy showing his adorable dimples when you screamed. The camera almost slipped out of his hands but he caught it on time. "What's wrong?" He asked, moving towards you while the comment section was filled with panic. You squealed and ran back to your boyfriend. "There's a freaking cockroach near the speakers." You said, covering your face with your hands. Trying to be brave in front of you, Hoseok gulped and walked towards the speakers. You watched him carefully, bugs creeped the hell out of you. Your eyes widened when Hoseok gasped and took quick steps back to you, stumbling in the process and falling flat on his face. "You didn't mention that it could fly!" He complained. The camera faced the ceiling before you picked it up while laughing. It was funny, how could you not laugh? The rest of the live, you and Hoseok sat in the corner of the practice room while calling someone to help get rid of the little creature. Everyone had a good laugh whenever they saw this live.

Park Jimin:

"Please stay warm. It's really cold outside." Jimin said, looking at the camera while reading some of the comments. He stepped outside of his house and saw you kneeling on the ground. Making his way towards you, he turned the camera so that everyone watching the live could get a glimpse of what Jimin was so mesmerized with. Suddenly you jumped and let out a 'YAY' which made Jimin flinch a little. Only when he saw the smile on your face, he relaxed. You placed the head of the snowman on its body and stepped away to look at it properly. Not noticing your boyfriend, you scanned around for any rocks that you could use as the eyes. Jimin placed a finger on his lips and looked at the camera, taking slow steps closer to you. He bent down and grabbed a handful of snow, throwing it at you as you squealed on feeling the cool substance on your neck. You turned around to see Jimin laughing, narrowing your eyes at him. "Game on!" You yelled and gathered snow to throw it back at him. For the next hour, Jimin ran around with the phone while you chased him. The live was certainly entertaining as all the people watching were already separated into teams based on who they support. Getting tired, Jimin stopped running and faced you, seeing the huge lump of snow you held. As you swung your arm towards him, he ended up falling before the snow could even hit him. You gasped, not because your boyfriend fell but because he fell on the snowman you made. Rushing towards him, you moved aside the snow and took the phone to avoid any damage to it. "Look what he did!" You complained to watching armys. While you were busy being mad at Jimin, he pulled you to lay beside him on the cold snow. You pushed his hands away as he attempted to tickle you, the giggles falling from your mouth while the viewers got very interesting angles of your face, good enough to make new memes. Finally giving up, Jimin lay on top of you, his cheek next to yours. The fans gave very hearty reactions although there were some hateful comments. The live ended with the two of you going back inside the warmth of your house.

Kim Taehyung:

You and Taehyung were the crazy but perfect couple. So here you were, in the middle of the night, ready to blast your favourite songs in a karaoke booth. Taehyung started a live on his phone and placed it in the corner of the room, making sure that both of you were visible. You had been in taehyung's lives before and the fans were very fond of you. You held the mic as Taehyung chose the song. You let out a loud laugh when you heard the beats to "I am the Best" by 2NE1. In a few minutes, the two of you were singing as if your life depended on it. As usual, Taehyung went into his karaoke mode which consisted of him dancing in the most hilarious ways possible. You moved closer to the phone to read some comments. One of the viewers enquired about taehyung's rainbow wig. You held taehyung's hand and pulled him to you while pointing at the comment. He narrowed his eyes and thought for a minute. Suddenly he gave his boxy grin and went away while you shrugged at the camera. Taehyung came back, sporting your green scarf on his head. "Not rainbow but it works!" He grinned, taking your hand and going to choose the next song. The live went on for a pretty long time and two of you didn't look like you were gonna stop anytime soon. After watching Taehyung rap to cypher, you decided it was probably enough for the night. You both gathered your things and left to go home but ended up getting distracted on the way by an arcade. Taehyung held the phone up and placed his other hand on your shoulder, dragging you into the arcade. "It ain't over yet!" He said, striking his signature V pose. The live went on as the viewers watched you both beat each other's scores in the colourful arcade until the sun rose on the horizon.

Jeon Jungkook:

It was April fools day and Jungkook had been thinking of pranks to scare you. It had become a tradition and you had managed to come up with the best prank every single time. Jungkook sighed and started a live, regardless of whether he was gonna prank you or not. It had been a week since you and Jungkook had bought a car and you were currently out buying groceries. The bell rang, your arrival being announced by loud sobs coming from outside. Jungkook ran to the door and saw you crying, holding the steering wheel of the car in your hand. His expression was so hilarious, you really wanted to laugh. You dropped the steering wheel and hugged him, crying into his shirt. The fans were going berserk, they already figured this was a prank. "They sold us a fake car. I was pulling into the driveway when the steering wheel just came out, kook." You mumbled, sniffling to add more effect. Slowly Jungkook wrapped an arm around you, trying to understand how you managed to damage a new car. His eyes fell on the screen of the phone, reading a comment which stated that this was a prank for sure. He smiled evilly and pulled away from you. "If it's already broken then why not do it nicely?" He said, making you confused. He handed you the phone and went inside the house. "What is going on?" You asked the viewers. Before you could read the answers, Jungkook came back with a bat in his hand. He grabbed your hand and smiled at you, dragging you to the car. He raised the bat in his hand, ready to strike the windshield. "No, Jungkook! It was a prank!" You yelled and held his hand. At first, he gave you a serious glance but soon burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes. "You knew." You said, looking at the screen. Jungkook took the phone from you, still laughing. "I love you all!" He winked at the camera. You jumped on his back as he carried you inside the house. "There's always a next time." You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. Jungkook chuckled and set you on the couch, laying down on your stomach. A good half an hour later of conversing with the fans, you suddenly gasped. Pushing Jungkook off of you, you ran outside. Jungkook groaned, rubbing his elbow. "What happened?!" He yelled behind you. He heard the front door open as he stared at the live. "There was ice-cream in the grocery bag!" You answered, continuing your rescue mission while Jungkook shook his head and laughed.

[felinehypocritical]

hey!!! i would love love love to read something about bev and bill going on their first date or something? they're all just so cute, and i love the way you write them

The first time Beverly Marsh goes on a date, she takes every single precaution she can think of.

The first step she thought to take is to make sure her father is out that night- but that, of course, is a given. Beverly never did much of anything when her father’s around.

The second step was to clear it with her mother. Of course, that was not too hard. Bev’s mother cared little about whatever her daughter does, as long as Alvin doesn’t find out.

The third step was to brush her hair until it gleamed like dimly heated coals in the bottom of a fire, the small blondish filaments in the strands glimmering in the flip curls she set in her hair the night before, and pull on the outfit she herself had sewn from the money she earned babysitting. Her mother had a beaming smile on her face when she saw Beverly sitting by the fire, sewing her circle skirt and bolero, grateful that her girl had finally begun to “woman up”, as she called it.

An so, after those three steps, Beverly hesitantly padded out of her room in her powder blue outfit and modernly styled hair flip, looking more radiant than most people thought possible, even for a gorgeous girl like Bevvie. Elfrida looked up from her book, smiling slightly at her daughter.

“Hey, sweetie.”

“Hey, mom.” She hugged the older woman, kissing her cheek and letting her mother try to straighten any discrepancies Bev herself had missed. “So, I put the lasagna in the fridge, and it’s good cold, but the neighbors have a microwave so they’ll let you borrow it if you want, momma-”

Elfrida rolled her eyes, rubbing Beverly’s shoulders. “I know, I know, Bevvie. Jeez louise, don’t you trust your old woman? I can take care of myself, sweetie.”

Beverly shifted. “I know, it’s just-” She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and she scrambled to get to it. Opening the creaky screen thing she’d learned to call her front entrance, she beamed up at the third redhead to enter the cramped apartment. “Hello, Bill!”

The boy smiled back, handing her a small book he’d been carrying that she took immediately and with thanks. “H-hello, Bevvie.” The mother hovering near them tensed at the sound of a man using that name on her daughter, but seeing how earnest and truthful the boy looked, and how happy Beverly’s expression was, she relaxed. This boy was no Alvin Marsh, nothing to be worried about. He looked almost soft, but there was something about his features, something that told of wiseness beyond his years and a set to his eyes that spoke volumes, as well as the small cut on his upper lip that had scarred over and already begun to disappear. Must’ve been a childhood accident, she thought, before starting into the present and seeing the two teenagers staring at her.

“Okay, anyways, so mom, we’re gonna head out, is that okay?”

Elfrida cleared her throat. “Uh… yeah. That’s okay. Have fun, sweetie!” She hugged Beverly one last time, holding the door open for the couple, before collapsing in her chair with a sigh. Oh, but what was her Beverly getting up to now?

Outside, the two teenagers sat pretty in the front of Bill’s father’s borrowed car. Beverly looked out the window pensively, avoiding eye contact with Bill, who stole a kiss on her cheek before started the car.

“Aw, huh-heck, Bev,” he started. “W-w-we’re, like, buh-best friends, let’s stop being so awkward.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward, Billy. So stop it.” She grinned up at the boy, letting him rest his free hand over hers, even though her mind was full of worries about him driving one handed at this time on a summer night. They’d crash, she was sure they would, because Beverly Marsh got the shortest end of the stick in every game, every situation, every pair. She was sure to crash.

After all, isn’t something like this too good to be true? Isn’t sitting in a car with Bill Denbrough, Mister Congeniality, driving next to her in his slacks and shirt and shiny shoes looking just as handsome as ever. Girls like Bev weren’t meant to have guys like Bill, guys who

(piss rosewater)

drive fancier cars and can afford new suits each dance but don’t buy them, pay for everyone’s food at the diner, wear aftershave from somewhere other than a discount department store window and have shiny white teeth. Beverly was just a girl, a poor little girl whose father beat her because she wasn’t good enough, smart enough, quick enough to get away, whose nail polish was always uneven and chipped and slightly offshade. Did Bill know that? Did he realize how good he could get? She felt tempted to ask.

But she said nothing of the sort, and stayed sitting perfectly still as she looked sideways at Bill. She pressed her thumb onto a bruise in her arm and felt the dull throb. She was still here.

Bill cleared his throat. “S-so, what p-picture do you want to see?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. What’s on, Big Bill?” She grinned at him, her retainer showing and gleaming slightly in the dying light. Despite the bar of metal, Bill couldn’t help but feel as if she could move the sky with her smile, and the urge to kiss her was back, this time stronger than ever.

“Uh, I th-think that a horror duh-double feature is on, is th-thuh-that okay?” Bill worried his lip, stealing a glance at his date- even the word sounded wonderful, date- already imagining the way Beverly might curl up into him, might want to hold hands so she wouldn’t get scared- but that wasn’t Beverly. The scared, skittish little girl in Bill’s mind wasn’t Beverly, who was strong and proud and didn’t need anyone else to hold her hand through things, and especially a man. Maybe she’d want to giggle with him about the campy effects, pull him in close and point out how you can see the dead bodies breathing in the back of the scene. Maybe she’d make fun of him for his reactions to the gore and smile affectionately at him. But she most DEFINITELY wouldn’t be scared.

That wasn’t Beverly Marsh.

“Sure, sounds good.”

The two rode in a comfortable lull of quiet banter about their friends and their lives and their school, spaced with lengthy silences where Bill turned the radio up a tad and tapped his feet, because after all, Bev and Bill are friends, but that didn’t stop them from having the awkward, first-date aura teenagers have.

And so it was. The movies were fun and light-hearted in a fifties horror way, and Beverly on several occasions snorted in laughter at the ridiculousness that were I Was a Teenage Werewolf and House of Wax. Bill thought it was all adorable, with her nose scrunched up and her eyes crinkled, although he’d never tell her unless he wanted a black eye.

Halfway through the second movie, though, Beverly made eye contact with him and mouthed, ‘wanna leave?’

Bill sat up in his chair, rubbing at his eyes and looking at Beverly, who was already putting her seat rest up and leaning across the seat to rest her head against his chest. He shook his head, stretching his arm around her tentatively before she smiled up at him affirmatively and he dropped his arm onto the line of her side. She turned back to the screen and kept watching, breathing in time to Bill’s heart rate as it slowed.

As soon as the movie ended, Beverly was on her feet, large popcorn in her arm resting on her hip as she pulled the sleepy Bill up.

“Get up, sleepyhead!” She said, quite loudly, in his ear. “You fell asleep so many times.”

Bill got up, rubbing his eyes with the back of the hand Beverly was holding, before she began walking away and slapping his jaw with the palm of their hands absently as they moved along.

“S-sorry. Hey, you g-g-gonna throw thuh-hat away?” He gestured to the popcorn.

Beverly looked up at him with a furrowed brow, Holding the popcorn closer to her side as they went out onto the street. “No.”

Bill half smirked, half raised an eyebrow. “Ah-and why’s th-that?”

“Cause it’s free food.” Beverly was mumbling the sentence in shame as she walked on. “I can throw it away, if you want, it’s just…”

Bill’s eyes widened. “Oh.” His smirk was gone. Beverly was saving the popcorn because… OH. How could he have been so stupid? “Bev, I’m suh-suh-s-sorr-”

“You’re sorry.” She sighed a little, her broad shoulders heaving up and down once slowly, before lifting her head up with a twinkle in her eye. “You should be sorry, Denbrough, I’m gonna get you!”“O-oh no!” Bill laughed, feigning surprise and dodging her hands. “Just eat your p-p-popcorn, little g-girl, and leave m-me alone.”

She popped some of the snack into her mouth, eating it before glaring at Bill with her mouth full. “Maybe I WILL,” she said once her mouth was empty. “Want any, by the way?”

“S-sure.” Bill grabbed a handful, throwing them into the air one at a time and arcing them into his mouth as they walked down the street. “Suh-so, where’re w-we going?”

“The park.”

Bill tensed, remembering what had been happening his whole life whenever he went anywhere normal in the dark. “N-no we’re n-not.” He gently wheeled her around until she shook him off defiantly.

“Why? I want to see the fountain at night!” Beverly stared him down, her look comical as she had to tilt her eyes slightly up to meet his and she was holding a large box at least as wide as her hips against her torso, her legs slightly widely set apart.

“N-no. S-sorry, Bevvie, I duh-don’t mean to c-control you, buh-but no.”

“But WHY?” Now it was Bill’s turn to duck his head. Beverly grinned. “Oh my God. Are you scared of the dark?”

Bill Denbrough, the six foot tall cross country team captain, looked away embarrassedly. “I duh-dunno. Maybe,” he mumbled, walking faster as Bev followed him closely, eventually grabbing his hand and pulling him back to her with gales of laughter.

“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” Beverly snorted as Bill’s cheeks turned pink. “Bill Denbrough’s scared of the dark?”

“Shuh-shut up.” Bill grumbled some more until he noticed Bev shivering. “You c-cold, Bevvie?”

“Yeah.”

“You wuh-want my coat?”

“Sure.”

Bill smirked yet again. “Too bad.”

“You’re so difficult, Big Bill, you know that?” Bill smirked at that too, taking the popcorn from her hands and setting it on the trash as they walked past one. He took his jacket off, placing it on Beverly’s shoulders and gently flipping her hair out of the collar, before slipping his hand into Beverly’s and putting their heads closer together. Beverly could smell his aftershave on the coat and on Bill himself, evergreeney and touched with juniper, and she shivered at the sentiment.

“Yuh-you’re not t-t-too easy to pl-pluh-please yourself, Bevvie.” He kissed the side of her mouth after a whispered ask for permission, missing most of her mouth but succeeding in making Bev push back into his lips. “Luh-let’s go g-get you some ruh-real food, huh? A burger instead of puh-p-puh-poh-”

“Popcorn. Got it, Bill.” She kissed him back, pulling him along for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night. “Let’s go.”

And they went.