#I am surprised I didn’t connect the dots earlier

[quiet-art-kid]

Random thoughts

I was thinkig about how in the httyd books the woman are discribed as hairy and while yes, I know it is played as a joke, strong manly hairy viking woman, but wouldn’t it be true. I mean woman in the early middle ages didn’t really have razors. I’m sure that where there’s a will there’s a way and if you tried hard enough you could shave your legs, but who is actually going through all that effort just to get some shiny legs. There is quilting to be done and farm animals to be fed. It just wouldn’t be an effective use of a girls time.

[junosmindpalace]

Hello :) I was wondering if I could request saiki k x reader where the reader has an ability like Wednesday where when they randomly get psychic visions when they touch a certain object/person? I am obsessed with both saiki and Wednesday right now lmao. If you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine ❤️

hi there! thank you so much for your request! i hope it's alright i did this in a hc format, since none of my oneshot ideas really worked out :(

He doesn’t know whether to feel comforted by having another psychic friend who shares his ability to see into a future predicament or not. At least you had enough common sense to not run your mouth over your abilities, but that just made your reactions to your visions all the more questionable.

Your psychic powers differed slightly from Saiki’s. His visions tended to play out quicker than yours, and unlike you, he wasn’t able to see into the past. Even still, he was able to relate to the anxiety they produced. 

Typically they weren’t anything too horrible. You could deal with them rather well, just like Saiki has grown accustomed to his own intrusive powers. But on certain days when the universe just seemed to be throwing anything out there into the world, it could easily get overwhelming. 

Though you could see into the future for a brief couple of seconds like Saiki, you didn’t always have the means to deal with them, let alone deal with them efficiently. However, Saiki had an assortment of different psychic powers at his disposal, and so sometimes he helps you out to avoid being responsible for anything bad that happens to you. 

He makes it out to be a huge hassle of course, but the second you try to take matters into your own hands, he stops you, deals with the issue himself, and scolds you for not being more careful.

Treats you a little bit when your visions are just a little too much. He completely understands being overwhelmed by your powers, and so he’ll do things for you that personally help cheer him up, such as buy you a treat or spend the day lounging around with you in the security of his home. 

This was usually the routine that followed, so much so that it just became a part of your normal.

You’re always using your powers for some kind of good, and though it sometimes tires and stresses Saiki out with how often you put yourself on the frontlines, he can’t help but find it a reason to like you so much. You were just so kind and generous, always going the extra mile just to make someone else's day a little easier- and that included him too.

He’s surprised when you seemingly read his mind and do something he's been meaning to for him, such as getting him a treat he’s been eyeing for a couple of days or delivering an item he accidentally left behind at school. At first he’s confused, but once he realizes you must’ve touched something he had earlier, the dots connect. 

If the rest of his psychic friends try to badger you into using your powers to help them with their own business, he immediately steps in to defend you from getting your kindness taken advantage of, since he knows that your sweet natured heart would never allow you to say no.

”But could Y/N just--” “No. Get lost.”

”But I just need--” “Figure it out yourself.” 

Truly romantical of him. 

Other than those bits, he doesn't linger too much on your powers.

He's glad he can feel confident leaving you alone without making some sort of large commotion with your powers, but he still likes to stay close and take care of you where he can, even if he'll never admit to it outright.

[landoom]

DAY 2 - CURSE

Also on AO3

“Oscar?” Lando asks as he takes the call, surprised to see his teammate’s name on the screen on one of their rare free Sunday mornings. Oscar is not a morning person and he always texts.

“Lando!”

Oscar’s voice sounds strange and it doesn’t take long for Lando to identify the tone as panic. Oscar never panics.

“Lando… Tell me you’re in Monaco!”

“Hum… Yes… Are you stuck outside after a night out or what?” Lando jokes because Oscar doesn’t do nights out.

“Not exactly…”

“Awww… Osc! You can tell Uncle Lando everything you know!” Lando teases but he stops when he hears another voice.

“Cabron! Tell him to come!”

There is no mistaking that accent.

“Ca-Carlos?”

“Shut up, Carlos! You were the one wanting ME to call him!”

“Because we’re in your apartment!”

“Guys?” Lando tries but the two keep bickering so he tries again a bit louder. “Guys!”

“Oh... Sorry Lando so… Hum can you come over?”

“Fast,” Carlos adds.

And okay, Oscar is never that jittery, Carlos is always way more polite and they don’t like each other so why are they together? The situation suddenly seems way less funny.

“Ok… On my way.”

“Thanks.” he hears Oscar say just before hanging up.

***

Less than fifteen minutes later, Lando is knocking on Oscar’s apartment door. He still has no idea of what is going on and neither of the scenarios his brain has come up with during the drive fits.

And still, when the door opens, Lando realises his scenarios are way less strange than what he’s seeing.

Oscar is dishevelled in a way that he even isn’t after a nap. He wears one of his boring white t-shirts but it’s covered in various stains. And he’s looking at Lando like a lost child in a mall.

But that is not even the strangest part… Lando’s eyes follow Oscar’s arm and there, in his hand is another hand that clearly belongs to Carlos.

Carlos who looks as bad as Oscar, just with fewer stains on his T-shirt.

“Come in,” Oscar finally says voice strained.

Lando follows his friends who are still holding each other’s hands. It’s kinda cute in a way. It’s true when they say hate and love aren’t that far from each other. But that still doesn’t explain why Oscar has called Lando in a panic on a Sunday morning.

“Ok, guys… I’m happy for you, really but why am I–”

“We’re not together!” Oscar cuts Lando’s sentence, turning to face him again. Carlos wasn’t expecting the move and he nearly tumbles.

“Hum… You’re holding hands.” Lando points.

“Yes, and that’s the problem!”

“Ok… I’m not sure I’m understanding what’s going on here.”

“We should sit,” Carlos suggests. “Have a coffee and then explain?”

Oscar looks at him like he’s an idiot. So they aren’t in love?

“Do you want me to remind you what happened when we tried to make coffee earlier?” he asks, gesturing to his t-shirt with his free hand.

Lando still can’t connect the dots and he doesn’t like coffee.

“Ok, we can sit but please tell me what’s going on!”

Carlos nods and moves towards the couch, tugging Oscar behind him. They sit next to each other, still holding hands when Lando plops on the armchair.

“So?” he asks, unable to hide his impatience. Nothing makes sense and Lando doesn’t like not understanding what is going on.

Oscar looks at Carlos, eyebrow lifted. Carlos doesn’t react.

“Are you going to explain? As I was so bad at it when I called Lando apparently… ”

“You’re the one responsible for this,” Carlos answers, moving their joined hands.

“What? Are you kidding me? Do you really think I’ve wanted this?”

Lando is startled by the way Oscar has just raised his voice. Oscar never raises his voice.

“Hum… Guys?”

“Sorry, Lando.” they both say at the same time before glaring at each other.

“So…” Oscar finally starts. “We’re cursed.”

Ok, that clearly wasn’t in any of the scenarios Lando imagined.

“What?”

“Start from the beginning!” Carlos says, elbowing Oscar who frowns at the touch.

“Yeah… So, this morning when I woke up, Carlos was there. In my bed. Holding my hand.”

“And I didn’t come here!” Carlos explains earning himself another glare from Oscar.

“Are you letting me explain or what?”

Carlos just shrugs. If Lando’s brain hadn’t shut off at the curse part, he would have found that funny.

“So… Yeah, Carlos didn’t come here by himself and… We can’t let go of each other.”

“What do you mean?” Lando asks, not sure he is processing all the information.

Oscar lifts his hand then and Carlos follows. He tugs towards the left and Carlos follows. Carlos tugs towards the right and Oscar follows. As if they were glued together.

“Oh…”

“That is an understatement.” Oscar deadpans.

“Have you tried to… tug harder?”

They both nod.

“We fell on the floor,” Oscar adds.

“You mean that YOU fell on the floor and made me lose my balance!”

“I fell because you tugged too hard!”

“Guys…” Lando feels the beginning of a headache around his temples. Oscar and Carlos's “hate” for each other was mostly amusing as they didn’t have to interact that much but this is getting a bit too much.

“Sorry,” they say at the same time again and, this time, Lando was expecting the glares exchange that followed.

“So… You’re cursed and you have to keep holding hands… And you called me for help because…”

“It was Carlos's idea. I wanted to call Max as his sister is a witch…”

“Lando’s mother is a witch, too!” Carlos explains, with a proud smile.

“What?” Oscar looks at Carlos and then turns towards Lando “You never told me that!”

“Sorry… Wasn’t sure if you were okay with magic and then the opportunity never came.”

“Ok… I reckon it’s not the right time to discuss this…”

“Ok… I’m going to call her and see if she can help.”

Carlos and Oscar nod as Lando grabs his phone.

***

“Yes, Mum… They are holding hands.”

“…”

“Yes, they’re stuck.”

“...”

“They tried…”

“…”

“Probably during the night as Carlos was there when Osc woke up…”

“…”

“Not really.”

Lando is pacing Oscar's living room, feeling Oscar and Carlos's gazes following him everywhere.

“Ok… yeah… Makes sense…”

“…”

“Oh… Are you sure?”

“…”

“Yeah, ok… I… Yes, of course.”

“…”

“They are not going to like that…”

“What?” Lando hears Carlos say but he doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Ok… And if it doesn’t work?”

“…”

“You’re sure?”

“…”

“Ok. Thanks Mum.”

“…”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“…”

“Bye Mum. Love you.”

“So what did she say?” Carlos asks as soon as Lando hangs the phone up.

“You… I mean… I’m just repeating what she said here.” Lando precautiously says as he sits back on the armchair.

“Go on. I don’t think it can be worse than being stuck with him.” Oscar says, with another glare towards Carlos.

“I think it could,” Lando answers as he remembers his mother’s words. She seemed really sure of herself and her explanations made sense…

“Lando… Come on!” Carlos insists.

“So… hum… It seems that the curses that link two people physically are always a way to make the people involved realise something…”

“And what are we supposed to realise? That we can’t coordinate enough to make coffee?”

Lando shakes his head and looks down before he continues.

“You’re meant to realise you have feelings for each other…”

“Feelings?” Oscar repeats.

“Oh, I have many feelings for that guy!” Carlos adds, ironically.

“The only way to break the curse is a true love kiss,” Lando concludes.

The silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re making fun of us, aren’t you?” Oscar finally asks, eyes wide open in pure horror.

Lando shakes his head. He was sure they weren’t going to like it. But now that he’s thinking about it, it’s not as ridiculous as it may seem. Like, he wasn’t that surprised when he saw them holding hands earlier. Hate to love and all that jazz. And, he’s close with both of them. He knows how different they can be but when he thinks about it, he can also see how they could complement each other.

”Lando…” Carlos asks, voice strangely low and unsure.

“Yeah?”

“Your mother… Did… Did she say it might not work… I mean… Can she be wrong?”

“She seemed quite sure.”

“Ok,” Carlos says, looking quite defeated.

“So… Hum… I’ll leave you two alone then,” Lando concludes, standing up again.

He notices the pleading eyes of Oscar but there is no way he’s staying to watch these two bickers for hours before they finally get to kiss each other out of desperation and… hopefully, realise that his mother was right and they might be a bit in love.

“Lando…” Oscar says, hesitating.

“Yeah?”

Lando looks at his teammate with what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

“We… Hum… We’ll keep you updated.” Oscar says finally.

Carlos nods and Lando can’t help but notice that it’s the first time they agreed on something.

“Have fun!” he says before seeing himself out.

And as he goes back to his flat, Lando realises he’s a bit envious… Not of the curse of course. But he’d love to have a soulmate, too.

As he thinks that, he remembers he didn’t exactly tell Oscar and Carlos about that part… They will discover it soon enough!

***

The first message comes only two hours after Lando comes back to his flat. It is from Oscar.

“Say thank you to your Mum.”

Carlos’s message follows a few minutes later.

“I hate magic.”

Lando laughs out loud at that, just before another message comes.

“Oscar told me to say thank you.”

Lando just laughs harder. This is going to be fun…

[rainboneish]

i lied, i can’t wait until the official release, so have an absolutely massive text dump about what i think about chapter 267 and what i think could happen from here considering the newest developments:

okay i’ve decided… i like the fact that nobara is back, and i do think that it doesn’t contradict anything that has been previously established (her survival was very deliberately left as a possibility in a decently believable way)

the way she went down (and what Nitta said about her status) was open ended enough, no complaints there (especially comparing her “departure” (to quote gege) to Nanami’s and Mahito’s line wondering if he could drop her with one hit since he couldn’t do that with Nanami if he wasn’t already on the verge of death, it’s more than a bit of a Checkov’s gun, which is why so many people were already theorizing that she would return the way she did)

i also think that Megumi and Yuji’s conversation about her being as ambiguous as it was is not outside of the realm of realism, since it was only a couple days after she went down (so around 2 months earlier than the point when she woke up) so if her status at that moment was “comatose on life support and very unlikely to wake up”, so almost the same status Yuji last saw her in (plus considering the time Tsumiki spent in a coma makes it more likely for Megumi to sort of struggle to state the fact out loud)

however…

while I understand that gege might have deliberately avoided mentioning her status so that she would surprise us the way she did Sukuna, i think that it would feel less like a deus ex machina if they had mentioned her at least one more time, either by having Yuji (or anyone) visit her sickbed during the month’s preparation for the showdown, or by having Gojo allude to SOMETHING at any point where Yuji wasn’t present (be it at the airport, while talking to Ijichi before the fight, the same way that Yuta said that he would put Inumaki to work set up the recorder scene)

it didn’t have to be anything that would necessarily confirm her status or a direct mention of her, it could have been an unlabeled hospital bed at some point or something equally vague

i just personally would have liked having another connecting dot for her return around the time when seeds for similar surprising events were planted to make it fit a tad better

anyway, all that said and done, now to the return itself: Loved it, the whole chapter was very well executed and the build up in the chapter itself was very good

it does feel a little out of character for the tone of the series itself (gege has a habit of not letting the good guys win anything without it feeling bittersweet or pulling the rug right from under them (and us) at the last second (the fight against the death paintings with Yuji’s grief after, Mahito being absorbed, Kenjaku starting the culling games just as Yuki’s appearance gave people hope, the whole Tsumiki twist just when we thought they were getting out, the way Gojo died just when they thought he won etc)

because of that i am SO SCARED RIGHT NOW (which i’m sure he did on purpose)… everything looks like we are lined up for 3 to live (if gojo stays dead, which i hope he does, as much as i love him, the guy’s last words are that he is happy he went out the way he did and that he hopes his afterlife vision is real, LET HIM REST, he wouldn’t want to survive in exchange for Yuji or Megumi’s death (also having another character come back from the “dead”, especially one that is properly established to be dead, at this point feels like it would cheapen the concept of death in the series))

now, if this is how it ends, and this chapter was officially announced as the climax of the battle in advance so that’s likely, especially with the condition sukuna was in at the end, you won’t catch me complaining (i’m not THAT kind of shonen fan, griping over on twt about how it’s bad writing if we get a happy ending, these kids have been through ENOUGH, let them have time to grow older together, they never even managed to get to first name basis)

however: we do have another 4 chapters left…

and that leaves us with the option that if gege decides to be evil (like he often is) we could dramatically go from having unexpectedly reached the final “3 live 1 dies “ configuration, giving us a sense of security, to a fear of reaching the dreaded “only one survivor” option

Now, I previously made a different too long post about why either of the boys being the lone survivor would both be equally good story telling for a bittersweet ending to this story (see here)

now, i’m going to exclude the option of Nobara dying because her coming back just to be killed a chapter or two later would be stupid (plus the only way i can see that happening is if Uraume suddenly shows up at the dam after having killed Hakari and taken a train which… yeah… ), so that would automatically make her the lone survivor (again, already talked about the reasons why either of they boys dying works, though i will say that her return would strengthen Megumi’s will to live)

Nobara is more independent as a character than either of the boys, as far as her motivations go. She is the one character (out of the three of them) who viewed being a sorcerer as a job (think about her asking Momo is her life is just a job during their fight), more than having it directly tied into her purpose in life, which is something a lot of the adult survivors have in common. She has people outside of jujutsu society that she would like to see again (to be blunt, she has other friends and family, unlike the other two, plus she didn’t go through the additional trauma that made the other two cling to each other even more)

while she would definitely grieve them immensely, she has the resilience to grow around that grief, if both Megumi and Yuji should somehow die with Sukuna.

Again, i don’t think this is the most likely outcome, especially considering that gege said that he hopes the ending will make people happy which dead main characters don’t tend to do, but i do think that this is definitely an option i can’t dismiss out of hand until Sukuna is officially dead

edit: another point in favour of the happy ending is of course, the whole "jjk is about breaking the cycle" theory, which is reinforced by the "cycling curse" line on the second to last page of this chapter

[lilith-little-world]

The Oracle|| Concept Oneshot 4 pt.2

Okay I know this is slightly later than I usually post but I got busy since I went out for nearly the whole day. So I wrote a longer oneshot.

This is for WhiteWings, who requested a continuation, or how Wukong and the reader first met. Since I have no idea what was considered their first meeting I decided to do a continuation.

Remember you can always send in questions or request anytime! Also extremely suggestive themes and grammar errors. Grammarly keeps dying on me.

The door squeaks open loudly. Announcing your presence as you walk in with shopping bags in your arms. You scurried your way to the large wardrobe that sits beside the large bed. Put the bags down on your bed ready to put them away.

“Didn't I tell you, this will be fun? You need to trust me more.”

Wukong hums and puts the rest of your bags down. Finally resting on the bed.

“I guess it was alright, but you didn't need to buy me any clothes. I got a huge wardrobe at home.”

You pull out a peach colored shirt, it was simple but what made you decide to buy it was because of the tightness around the pecs. Wukong had such a muscular body underneath his baggy clothes. You started to separate the clothes. One folded nicely in a pile waiting to be put away and the other put in a bag for the uninterested simian to take home.

“And you only wear that outfit everyday cause?”

“-Cause I like it, there's nothing more to say on the matter.”

“Do you at least wash it?”

“There's nothing more to say- HEY!”

You crawl over the bed and sit right next to him. Leaning close to the neck just before making a quick turn to his shoulder, bringing the fabric up to your nose. Ready to react negatively to a foul smell. Instead the pleasant smell of peaches and cream hits. It was a delightful scent that you had to sniff again, there was something else in the mix you can't pinpoint sadly. Wukong stays still, not daring to move. You hardly ever get this close to him. He was nervous about your reaction but sighs out in relief when you take another long sniff. Wukong couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. Something in his brain clicks, happy that you enjoy his smell as he enjoyed yours. Not even realizing his tail was hitting the bed like an excited dog.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He rests his head on yours. Enjoying the rare moment between the both. Nearly getting lost in the moment he started to purr. 

“Yeah, you don't stink. I'm surprised, I thought you never showered. How do you get a smell like that!?” 

“Excuse me?! I do shower, I may be an animal but I am civilized!” 

You take in another whiff. There were the peaches and cream but there was something earthy. Grass? Dirt? No, maybe wet rocks by the river bank? Oh-

“You smell like clay from the riverside.”

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but get away from me.”

Wukong pushes you off of him. You fall back, not even putting any effort into stopping.

“I didn't mean it in a bad way, anyway it's only natural for you to smell like that.” You mumbled.

“Don’t care, hun.”

“I kind of like it though.”

Silence filled the room. 

“You do?” Wukong crawls to sit beside your head like a curious puppy.

“Yeah, it's not a bad smell, so I like it.” Shrugging, you didn't really care. Since the peaches and cream smell overpowered any other scent. It wasn't really a big deal to you, nevertheless for Wukong, it was another story.

There was a sudden switch with him. He immediately got on top of you. Bringing him close to you, hands beside your head and his knees separating yours. His eyes hold an emotion you hardly saw from him, pupils dilated, as it bore into you. Recognizing this look from earlier before. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots on where this may lead.

“You're getting easier to mess with you recently.”

“Say the word and I’ll stop, peaches.” His expression was intense, filled with strong emotions. 

“I never said I didn’t like it or to stop?” a smirk reaches your face, getting excited.

“Oh really? Then you wouldn’t mind if I..” He brought his head down to your neck. Giving light kisses, before taking a nibble. You couldn’t stop yourself taking an audible gasp.

“Y-you’re really teasing me right now? Here I thought you were being serious.”

“Oh I am, but you have a bad habit of teasing me out in public. Don’t think I had forgotten that stunt you pulled at the cafe.” Wukong bites your shoulder harshly, showing how he didn’t appreciate that trick.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to-“ You lean in close to his ear. “Spend all night within your arms.” 

“Playing innocent, all while seducing me huh? I wonder how long it will be until your little act breaks.”

He went back sucking on your neck. A gasp escapes from your lips, hands clinging to his back. Wukong groans from the action. He was about to take it further.

Until a loud knock on the door stops you both. 

You glance at the door and at Wukong. He gave you the same look. 

“Maybe if we stay quiet, they'll leave-” You whispered before a familiar voice spoke.

“I know you two are in there, hurry up and open the door.” 

Wukong got off of you and huffed. You quickly fix yourself up and try to look decent. You went to open the door and see why the hell he came over here.

“Macaque, what brings you here?”

He brought the almond colored dog up to your face. She barks excitedly to have finally found you. You raise an eyebrow at the dark fur simian standing in front of you.

“I thought Mk and the others were watching her?”

He puts the dog down as she rushes into the room.

“Well, I just saw her running around the streets looking for you.” He waltzes right into the room, noticing a very annoyed Wukong.

“What got you pissed off now?” 

“Well seeing you is a good enough reason for me.”

“You two stop it! No fighting, I would like to have this room in one piece.” 

You close the door and look at the two demons ready to fight. The small dog jumps on the bed ready to play. 

“Y/n, you can honestly do so much better than this guy.” Macaque states. His eyes never left Wukong's glare.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but there's no one better than me!”

“Oh, classic Wukong! Still as egotistical and narcissistic as ever. Good to know you’ll never change.”

“Ugh- Y/n, tell me why did you befriend this demon again? Just say the word and I’ll send him back to hell.”

“Alright, that’s enough! I’m going to kick both of you out if you don’t stop arguing! Don't fucking test me.” 

They stayed silent and refused to look at each other. You sigh.

‘Better than having them argue.’

“Macaque, thank you for bringing Almond here.” 

“Hm? Oh, don't even mention it. I know this fluff ball means a lot to you.” He smiles softly at you before petting the dog. Wukong mumbles something under his breath. Which made Macaque twitch. You were going to call him out until there was another knock on the door.

“Looks like they finally came to tell you the news.” 

You roll your eyes at Macaque's statement and open the door. Everyone was huddled together as Mk and Mei were tearing up.

“We are so sorry!” Mk fell down to the ground and sobs.

“We didn't mean for this to happen! We swear!” Mei copies Mk actions. They clung to your legs, weeping. You just glance at the rest of the group, they all give you a nervous look.

“Look, we lost focus for a second and your pet managed to run off. We spent all day looking for her I swear-” Pigsy explains but Tang finishes for him.

“We couldn't find her sadly, we are truly sorry Y/n. We never meant this to happen.”

“Yeah, and they even dragged me along on their useless search.” Redson came to view. 

“-But we brought some food and tea, so that it might cheer you up.” Sandy adds, Mo meows on his shoulder.

You would have been upset, if hadn't been Macaque.

“Come on guys get up from the ground. You guys don't have to worry about anything.”

You open the door and shuffle to the side to reveal the dog sitting on your bed. Mk and Mei shot up and ran to the dog, hugging her. They sobbed even harder.

“Whoa calm down.” Macaque moved away from the bed as Mk and Mei were sprawled all over the bed.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again.” Mei chokes out.

Wukong pats Mk’s back trying to get him to calm down. You glance back at the others by the door, ready to explain.

“Macaque found and returned her back to me just minutes before you guys arrived.”

“So we spent all day searching for nothing?!” Redson says annoyed.

You glance at the large bowl that Pigsy holds.

“Do you think you have enough for everyone?” 

“Oh definitely, there's enough to last a whole week for you.”

“Well, then why don't you come in and eat? Just place that at the small table over there.”

“What?!” Wukong shouts.

“You don't have to do this.” Pigsy says softly, ignoring Wukong.

“No she does not, but it'll be rude to reject her offer, so start serving noodles.” Tang walks in a chipper mood and heads straight to the kitchen to get the bowls ready. 

“Come on pal, there's no harm in sharing a moment with friends.” Sandy walks in and places a teapot on the table. Tang already setting everything up.

“Alright, alright, hope you're hungry, kid.” Pigsy finally enters and starts serving everyone noodles.

Redson was the last person to come in. His mood sours when he glances around the room.

“I thought when my parents gave you an increase on that weekly allowance, you would have chosen better accommodations.”

You nervously laugh.

“Yeah I tried looking but I got used to this place. I promise to find a new house just give me some time. Anyways I can always crash at your place. Your parents love hanging out with me for some reason.”

Redson rolls his eyes but smiles.

“Ah yes, what do you call yourself again?”

“I'm your sort-of-auntie! So go get a bowl of noodles and eat. Can't have my sort-of-nephew going hungry when I'm around.”

“Strange last time I checked I was the one buying and getting food so you don't get hungry.” He walks away with a chuckle.

“Baaaabe.” Wukong clings to you. Nearly dragging you to the ground from how heavy he was.

“Whaaaat?”

“Tell me you're joking right.”

“Nah, stop being horny and get a bowl of noodles.”

He whines, stating how you don't love him before heading to the table. You just laugh and follow along.

“Hey Macaque, are you up to telling one of your stories?” You ask sitting on your bed eating. The others soon followed. 

“Oh, can you please, your shadow play is the best.” Mei says.

“Yeah you somehow make the story come to life.” Mk adds, trying to encourage the demon.

“Heh, alright, if you guys really want to hear it.” 

The room goes dark catching everyone's attention. Wukong just scoffs, which earns a quick jab from you. 

“Which story are you going to tell?” Tang asks.

“Hmmm, have you heard the tale of Chang’e?”

“Which one? There's multiple versions of it.” Redson asks.

“Well, I have my own version I like to tell.”

Shadows of people form on the walls. Telling a small story. You lean into Wukong as he wraps his arm around you. After the story was done, Mk couldn't stop himself from asking for another. The night went on with Macaque telling stories that slowly derailed to watching a series on the tv. 

It left a warm feeling in your chest to see everyone getting along. Since originally it took so long for them to even see eye to eye. You worked hard for this and you would do anything to keep it like this. A sigh escapes from you as Wukong arms tighten.

Hopefully, it stays like this.

______________________________

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Remember don't be afraid to send in questions or requests! Love you guys!

[lordgrimwing]

Awake

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 4, part of the Silm ABO series]

Glorfindel listened to the strange noises around him. Eyes shut and breath kept carefully even, he tried to get a sense of what was happening without alerting anyone to his wakefulness. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious this time, but the pain in his stomach was less distracting now. 

Last time, he woke up suddenly, yanked back to consciousness by a deep, aching pain splitting his belly open as though the mýrennedí still had her teeth in him. He had a hazy memory of someone trying to speak with him, followed by an unsuccessful attempt to escape out the mouth of the bizarre cave they were in. Whoever these people were, they were not pleased by his disappearance. 

The cave opening sat on the side of a sheer cliff dotted with many other openings of identical size and shape. The pain made climbing hard, and he had to slip inside one of the other caves to rest. Fearing he’d fall if he tried climbing the rest of the way down, he tested his luck in the rabbit warren-like caves instead, hoping they were all connected and he could reach the ground. 

He bumped into many strangely dressed elves as he went. They either stared at him in surprise or squawked like vibrantly colored, unintelligible birds. A few tried to stop him, but he avoided them easily and kept running.

The elf from the first cavern caught up to him at about the same time he realized he’d started bleeding from the healing gashes in his stomach. He wasn’t steady on his feet by that point, stumbling down the passage with more than running, and the elf easily grabbed him. Everything was very confused after that, but they must have gotten back to where he started somehow. 

That brought him back to the present: still unable to make sense of what was going on but feeling less like he was crawling toward the flaming chasm of death—so that was good.

“You are awake?” Someone asked from near his head.

Well, pretending to sleep wasn’t working. It was time to figure out where he was and what happened. He opened his eyes.

The elf from earlier was gone, replaced by one of the strangers the mýrennedí tried eating. He recognized this one from the days he spent watching their camp before the attack, assessing if they were a threat to his people or just part of a strange tribe passing through. Quenhó, he’d named this one, because his odd appearance was reminiscent of images conjured up by the angoldos’ tales of lost spirits. He had been interesting to watch: he appeared to be some kind of healer, like an angoldo, as others in the group came to him when they were hurt.

Quenhó repeated the question, words spoken with the tone of someone who was trying to speak clearly after eating many fermented mesquite bean pods. “You are awake?”

Glorfindel blinked. “Yes.” His mouth felt dry.

“You are safe,” Quenhó said in very simple words, tongue stumbling.

Was he just learning to speak? Perhaps he actually was a lost spirit.

“Do not run again. You are hurt.” Quenhó pointed at his own stomach, hidden under layers of enough stifling fabric to make a sizable traveling tent, then down at Glorfindel’s while making a pained expression with his odd face.

Glorfindel agreed with the limited explanation. “Yes,” he said. “That is usually what happens to people who are caught by a mýrennedí. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me.” 

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he should have died. The fight took place far away from his people (though he’d watched the strangers long enough to know that they knew where his people lived, that they were specifically watching his people). Even if he had survived the journey back to be cared for by an angoldo, he’d seen though wounds like this to know a burning fire should have grown within him by the third day and finished what the large cat started.

Quenhó looked at him, his face twisted into an indecipherable mask. “You are hurt,” he repeated. “I am helping you.”

Glorfindel tilted his head against the thick, soft mat he was laying on. “Where am I?” He asked. “I’ve never seen caves like this. Do your people make caves like hares dig tunnels?”

“You are hurt.” This time, a hint of pleading entered the words.

Quenhó, whoever and whatever he was, had no idea what Glorfindel was saying.

[the-character-lounge]

Candy’s Gift Boxes

Spinel got up and stretched, sighing and savoring the refreshing feeling in its likely last moments. He was tempted to make tea or mix some crystal wine first, and even glanced at the shelf he kept it a moment before giving a heavy groan and pulling the ear piece from the suit he'd removed earlier. He held it out to Randy, then levitated the box over, the same one that was connected to the dogs as well. He flicked the switch, and to his horror it seemed they were already in range because Candy's voice came through loud and clear as he was rambling quickly.

"--so yeah basically really excited over this, big big big, but I mean it's really big, bigger than I thought so if you could pretty pretty please? The sooner the better, and with you helping it'll be done in no time and we can spend the rest of the day having fun!"

Sugar's voice came next, more timid, "Well yeah, that makes sense, that really is a lot you have there, wow... So just this area...?"

"Yeeeep, I messed up a bit, silly me, and wound up having things cleeeear on the other side of Canterlot and there's just no way I can deliver it all at once. Sorry...! Hehe..."

“S- Sounds like they’re talking about an- another delivery. A- And a pretty b- big one at that.” Randy frowned as he heard Candy’s voice. Poor Sugar… even though he had told them Candy didn’t talk about business when they were together, there that bastard was asking him for a favor. He looked over at Spinel and swallowed nervously. What could be so big that it would take multiple trips to deliver?

Spinel's eyes were locked forward, and he was breathing a little heavier with a slight hiss in his breaths, ears alert.

Sugar's voice again, the shifting of what sounded like different types of packages with different objects, "Okay sooo... Well it's not so bad for this area... Yeah, yeah I should have it done in no time! The boxes are really cute this time, special occasion?"

"Presents!" Candy exclaimed cheerfully, "Mementos mostly, for old time's sake. Ah ah, right, since it's pretty different this time, just leave them on the doorsteps. Should be fine, wont they be surprised!" he squealed, hooves clacking. "Okay so no more time wasting, I better bounce, theeeen meet back here in an hour? Hour sounds good."

"I can do an hour, sure." Sugar anxiously replied.

"An hour it is! See you then, Sugs! Smile!" Hooves clacking away and fading out, and then a long sigh from Sugar, packages shifting.

"Okay let's see... mmm this one's just a block away, I'll start there then..."

Spinel's ears were flat by now, and he was definitely grinding his teeth.

Randy cocked his head to one side. “I- If Sugar’s close.. m- maybe we can tail him and find out wh- where he’s going?” he got up and went over to Spinel’s suite window. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to see anything super well from this high up. But, he found himself staring down at the streets below anyways. “Pr- Presents.. f- for who I w- wonder."

"Hopefully for the ones that are gonna rat him out when I punch their teeth in." Spinel spat angrily, following Randy.

He may not have been able to see things too well, but the two specks of pink in the distance just a few blocks down were hard to miss. One was bounding away quickly, and the other seemed to be walking the other direction, coming their way with a cart full of wrapped gift boxes.

Spinel backed up and cursed loudly.

Randy had also spied the pink dots in the distance, narrowing his eyes to get a better look. These new glasses were amazing. He could just barely make out the tiny curls in Sugar’s mane. When he saw the direction he was walking, he looked over at Spinel, panic slowly building up inside him. “Y- You don’t th- think… Sugar’s not coming-” He looked back out and at the cart. “O- Oh Celestia on high…”

Spinel was pacing, looking angrier and angrier as he did. "That fucking BASTARD knows where I am, what the HELL is he trying to pull now?!" He wasn't just angry, he was scared, and there was sweat starting to form on his forehead. And if he wasn't already on edge enough, when a knock came on the door he jumped a few feet in the air and shrieked, then stood still as a deer in the headlights as he hyperventilated at stared at the door pensively. There was no way Sugar could get up there that fast, in fact he was still walking from what could be seen out the window.

He was about to go over to Spinel and try to get him to calm down when he heart the knock at the door. He froze as still as a statue and stared at the door in panic. There was no way in hell that Sugar had gotten here that fast.. he was afraid to find out who that was behind the door. But, inside him a small boost of courage came, and he looked over at Spinel. “I- I’ll get it,” he said as calmly as he could, and went over to the door cautiously. He reached for the door handle, hesitated a moment, then unlocked it and opened it up slowly.

Spinel whined softly. Actually whined. And tried to reach a hoof after Randy a moment before retreating, waiting, and then cautiously slinking behind him so he could get a view.

When the door opened just a little, it was suddenly pushed open harder. "CHIEF!" came a winded, panicked voice, Whistle's face squeezing through the door frantically as his wings flapped and flopped around. "Lemme in, lemme in...!"

Spinel jumped again when the door was suddenly pushed like that, but seeing Whistle his frightened demeanor dropped to something more serious and alert. "Whistle...?"

Randy closed the door behind Whistle and he locked it quickly. He leaned his back against the door, as if he was trying to keep the fear out, and stared at Whistle. “Wh- What are you d- doing here b- bud?” He looked through the door’s peephole, still listening to the young pegasus.

It was just Jade out there, along with the usual guard. The guard however looked a little more alert and cautious now, keeping a close eye on the elevator.

Whistle paced a bit, "I was- I was comin- I w--" he breathed heavily, picking up his whistle and blowing a few times, then dropped it and tugged Spinel's leg, "I-I--I-I saw him- I saw-- I ran here as fast as I could- I--I don't think he saw bb-b-b-u--"

One of Spinel's hooves lifted up to pop Whistle's mouth shut under the chin, and then he shoved the whistle back in his mouth. "Yeah. I saw too."

Whistle stared in fear, but nodded, seeming at least comforted that he wasn't going out of his mind. He blew the whistle softly a few times in a row.

Randy sighed with relief and came over to the two of them, nervously tapping his hind hoof. “O- Okay, w- we’re in the cl- clear for now…” He looked at Spinel in confusion. “D- Do.. do you think my ex broke a- and told Candy where w- we are?”

Spinel was about to talk, looking angry and alarmed at this notion, but Whistle spat out the whistle and quickly piped in.

"No, because he already knows, how else would he have sent that filly here to set up that slipping scandal? You- you didn't think of that--?"

Spinel's lip curled, and he looked more anxious, brows furrowing."..Slipped my mind for a bit..."

“S- Same here…” Randy pinched the bridge of his nose. “R- Right so… th- then our r- real concern is… wh- what’s the present?” He looked at Whistle and Spinel. “Y- You two kn- know him m- more than I do.. an- any ideas? Sh- Should we expect l- like a bomb or something?” His hoof tapped a bit faster and he rubbed the back of his head.

Whistle blinked, "Present...?" He looked at Spinel in confusion.

Spinel scowled and nodded, "He has a brother. A fucking idiot, but he's heading here right now with a cart-load of 'presents' that Candy's having delivered all over Canterlot. Saying it's 'big' and to 'leave them as a surprise'."

At first, Whistle was horrified to hear about Candy having a brother, but his ears went alert as more information was given. He quickly processed it, eyes darting around as he did so. "Can't be a bomb, wouldn't put his brother with a bomb, even if he doesn't care about him it would be too risky especially if he's known to be absent minded. And the relation too, much too suspicious right? But it can't be drugs either because nopony just leaves drugs on a doorstep. That would be stupid."

“Th- This ‘present…’ it m- might be something th- that has the p- purpose of sending some k- kind of message.” He rubbed his templed and began to pace. “B- But, wh- why now? Wh- Why send us s- something now? I- Is it because w- we’re getting too cl- close? No no, w- we still don’t r- really know too much.. Why i- is he doing this?”

"For fun." Whistle said plainly, staring off with a vacant expression. "'Cuz he wants to see how much he can get away with. Nuthin' else matters. Guess he got bored hiding out." Whistle paused, then slowly his eyes widened, "But if he's bringing one here, then... Who's getting the rest of 'em...?"

Spinel narrowed his eyes, at first thinking that was a dumb question. "More of his 'friends' probabl---" he stopped talking. No. That didn't make sense at all. Spinel wasn't a 'friend' and yet it looked like he was heading this direction. His expression became confused.

“N- No no.. i- if he’s sending you a present th- then maybe his en- enemies? Th- The ponies he…” He shook his head. “N- No, he pr- probably doesn’t have v- very many e- enemies. S- Sugar did s- say ponies l- liked him. So then wh- what’s the conec-..” His voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide open. “… Sp- Spinel? D- Do any of the other O- Osiris foals l- live here in C- Canterlot?”

Whistle held his hoof up, looking scared, "Well I do..."

The color in Spinel's face drained a bit. "...Canterlot was the first section of Osiris to be taken out... There were three other locations but Canterlot was the biggest..."

Whistle hesitantly spoke, "There are at least 10 foals if not more still here living with Canterlot families, and some of 'em never really... recovered... so they're in special care homes..."

“Shit,” Randy said as he paced over towards the window and stared out at the street, panicking as soon as he didn’t see the pink dot in the distance any more. “Th- That fucking b- bastard…” He looked back at Whistle and Spinel. “I- It looks like we’re first on th- the list of deliveries. S- So once we g- get your ‘presents,’ we should g- go check in on the other Osiris f- foals and see what they r- received.”

".. I'm scared..." Whistle admitted, shaking with his ears flat. He moved closer to Spinel, pressed close to his side.

Spinel didn't move much at fist, but steadied himself with a deep breath. "We're in this together. Like last time."

Whistle bit his lip, then closed his eyes and nodded anxiously.

There was some silence, other than the distant humming of Sugar coming from the box. The cart wheels stopped. Hoof steps. The creek of the mail slot. "Theeere's one!" he praised, and the humming continued as the cart joined.

The sweetness of his voice gave Randy a stomach cramp. As he heard the mail slot creak, his hoof stopped tapping, and he stared over at it for a moment, his breath held. After Sugar had delivered the present, he looked over at the two of them and took a deep breath. “… I- I’ll get it,” he said grimly. He made his way towards the door, anxiety feeling him to the brim. As he opened the door and made his way down the hall, he nodded at Jade and the security guard.

Jade stood up a moment in concern, "Is everything alright?" She started to follow him, giving the guard a nod as well before keeping to Randy's side now. "This is seeming pretty serious."

“I- It’s… It’s Candy. He’s got his br- brother delivering s- some kind of present t- to all the Osiris k- kids.” He called the elevator and waited for the doors to open. “C- Can you sh- show me wh- where the m- mail room is? I n- need to pick up th- their presents…” he stepped in when the doors opened, stared at the carpeted floor of the elevator, staring in concentration.

Jade's expression looked more serious, and she nodded, pushing the button to go to the first floor. "If it gets any worse, we could be looking at relocating... Oh but he'd never want to do that." She chewed her lip, "... I have numbers... But only if Mr. Spinel approves. Please consider it and think about it." She stepped from the elevator after that, not waiting for a response as she began to walk to the back of the store.

Randy followed her and stayed by her side. “.. O- Once we figure o- out what’s in these th- things, w- we should contact the other kids right a- away. Th- This could be bad…” He looked around the back of the store, not having really explored it at all. Come to think of it, he had never really looked around the store… ever. It was strange some of the things that came to mind before something horrible was about to happen.

The crystal pony lead him past the stock shelves and janitorial area, stopping at a big bin that was placed in front of a large mail slot. In the bin were a few typical delivery packages, but on the top was a present that was about the size of a cereal box. It was wrapped up in purple with a gold ribbon and a blue to and from tag, but there were no names, just a doodle of Spinel's cutie mark with a glittery gel pen and a few hearts.

“… how can s- something so i- innocent looking strike s- so much fear into y- your heart…” he said bleakly. He almost didn’t want to touch it, and it showed when his hooves retracted when he reached for it. It took him a couple more tries before picking it up and holding out in front of him like it was made of a disgusting wet ball of garbage. He made his way back to the elevator, grimacing at how beautifully wrapped the package was.

Jade examined it carefully as he was picking it up, and she followed in concern. "Looking like a birthday present makes it creepier. What would a pony like that be sending...?" She shook her head and brought him back up to the 4th floor.

The box was light, and definitely seemed to have tiny bits of... Something in it moving around easily whenever it was moved. Something that felt familiar in fact.

“I d- don’t know.. b- but that s- sick bastard s- sent Spinel a l- lot of l- little somethings…” he shook it softly, than shivered as he stepped back into the apartment with Whistle and Spinel. He placed the present down on a nearby coffee table and sat in a nearby arm chair. “… Wh- Whistle’s is p- probably being d- delivered t- to his parent’s house…” Oh his poor parents. The fact that this horrible, shitty thing from the past was coming back to haunt their son… He rubbed his temple and stared at the box.

Jade gave a small "Good luck." of concern before shutting the door and sitting back down in the office to think.

Whistle's ears went flat as he stared at the box, gulping and then giving an awkward little winning smile, "I'm sure they'll be fine, and if it's somethin' bad I can get back to 'em asap. So. Let's get it over with."

Spinel was sickened by this box that bore his colors and reminded him that he never had a name in the past, and he pulled the two of them away from the box as he backed up. His horn lit up, and slowly, the ribbon came undone, followed by the wrapping paper. It was a box of maple and brown sugar oatmeal with a cute card attatched to it with an illistration of an adorable puppy and words in big bold black, "I'm so proud of you."

Both ponies couldn't move, just staring in horror. Spinel couldn't read bigger words, but he could read those alright, and he was in too much shock to react.

Silence. Uncomfortable, unnerving, unrelenting silence. Randy stared in disbelief at the box, and furrowed his brow. After a few more moments of the long silence, Randy got up and came over to Spinel and Whistle, and stared at the box, whispering, “…. I g- guess I kn- know now wh- why you don’t l- like oatm- meal…” He looked at the words on the card, and he felt his jaw slack open slightly. What the fuck did he mean by that? He didn’t look at Spinel or Whistle… he continued to stare at the box.

It was Whistle who finally stepped forward, snatching the card and shoving the box over in disgust before he opened it. It made a loud 'POP' noise. He yelped and jumped back, dropping it with his wings puffed up, and Spinel was about to rush forward to get him away from the letter, but stopped in place to see what it was.

There was glitter, confetti, and party strings strewn about, apparently a small party popper was placed inside and with that same glittery gel pen was loopy, fancy hoofwriting.

'Keep up the good work!

Kisses and hugs!

-Uncle'

Next to 'Uncle' was a a piece of candy taped down.

Spinel couldn't stand to look at it any more. His breathing grew heavier until it became grunting growls, and then an angry shout as he started stomping and scraping the letter to pieces.

Whistle slowly retreated away, a solemn and lost expression on his face, wings limp and ears low.

Randy jumped at the burst, and nervously watched as Spinel tore the letter to bits. He looked over at Whistle and whispered softly, “Y- You might want to h- head on home… b- be with your folks. I’ll t- take it from h- here sport….” his eyes darted towards the door and then back to him. “.. I- I’ll call you l- later. G- Go on now.” He gave Whistle a strange look, not sure if he would leave or not, then very slowly approached Spinel from the front, his eyes trying to meet his. When he got within reaching distance, he waited for him to calm down so they could talk about what to do next.

Whistle gulped and nodded, slowly backing out of the suite and turning only when his butt hit the door. He left quietly, but once he was out, he was running as fast as his legs could carry him.

Spinel just kept tearing and tearing until the paper was nothing but tiny little bits, and then he stamped the candy over and over. He grabbed the oatmeal box, giving Randy a glare for one moment when their eyes did meet. He didn't stamp it or throw it, instead storming out to the patio where he placed it on the ground, backed up, and lit it on fire with a small pack of matches. He stared at the flames coldly in silence.

Randy watched him leave, and stared at him through the glass. He was tempted to follow him outside, but he knew that Spinel probably wanted to be alone. Quietly, Randy went to the kitchen and picked up the land line, where he called a Chinese place and asked for delivery. He didn’t know why he was doing this… but he felt like he should be doing something instead of just sitting around. He felt weird about ordering it, he honestly did. But, the circumstances were already bizarre. Once the order had been placed, he got himself a glass of water and sat at kitchen counter, sipping it nervously.

As the fire was finally dying down, Spinel rubbed his eyes and his face. He let out a long, deep sigh, and tiredly walked back inside, looking at Randy with an expression that honestly looked dead and broken.

Randy set the water down on the counter, and got off his stool. He came over to Spinel, and stood in front of him, staring back with concern. He reached out and touched his shoulder. “… y- you gonna b- be okay?” he asked softly, not breaking his gaze.

Spinel looked sickened by the touch, not by Randy but by himself, and he tensed himself away just slightly. "I never hated myself more before in my life."

Randy’s hoof followed him none-the-less, and he stepped a step closer. “.. Wh- Why’s that?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly. “I- Is it b- because… h- he’s trying to m- make you feel like y- you’re becoming m- more and more like him?"

"I--I don't know! I don't know how to take it I just--" he choked up, losing that cold apathy and moving on to lost desperation as he stumbled to sit down. "All at once I just-- I felt-- Ashamed, and then a moment I felt my heart stop and I felt fucking excited and h-happy and then even more disgusted with myself and I don't know what it means!!!"

Randy rushed to his side and helped him sit down on a nearby couch, sitting beside him, his hooves together in his lap. He stared in silent confusion, and listened intently. He didn’t want to interrupt his chain of thought, so he let Spinel talk. And as he did, he kept feeling more and more angry towards Candy; wanting nothing more than to rip each bone from that sick bastard’s body out through his skin one by one.

He clung to Randy, speaking in panic and pain and sounding so much more vulnerable than he usually let on. "M-my whole life I just didn't want to disappoint him and then I got out and I - I made something of myself and it's like I've been waiting to hear that just o-one more time j--just-- but it feels DISGUSTING!!" He started scratching and rubbing himself where he could, then buried himself more to Randy's body as he shook. "I don't want him to be proud of me!!!"

Randy held him and rocked him, his eyes wide open in horror. He stared ahead, that anger now fuming and boiling, and it took every ounce of his strength to keep it manageable. He gently stroked Spinel’s mane, and nodded. “I kn- know…” he whispered, unable to think of anything else to say. This was heart breaking… but there was nothing he could do except hold him and comfort him. And it made him upset because he wished there was something- well no… actually there was something he could do. And that was catch this filthy, disgusting, bastard. He pressed his lips to the top of Spinel’s head, and stared into his mane.

The unicorn kept himself close, shaking, quiet, letting thoughts settle and sort themselves out since they ere a conflicting whirlwind at the moment. And when he didn't know what else to do, when he felt too ashamed to cry and too hurt to scream, he did the only thing he knew how to do when confronted with an unfamiliar and frightening situation. He started laughing. Clinging tighter, laughing harder but with a strain in his throat. "All this time... hahah, imagining him angry, ahahahaha! For sure, for sure he'd be mad...!"

Confused by the laughter, Randy furrowed his brow but didn’t say anything. He only rocked him softly, and gently rubbed his back. And suddenly, the gravity of just how terrifying this whole situation was hit him like a falling safe. This guy wasn’t.. malicious. He wasn’t cruel, or abusive. He gave gifts, taught the kids songs, encouraged them to be positive. A stallion capable of so much damage… and so much confusion; and yet he was these kids only comfort. Their protector and their role-model. And that just made Randy feel that much more sick and angry.

Spinel's laughter took some time to die down, and by the time he was done he looked just about as exhausted as someone who spent the whole night wailing and sobbing. After some silence, his head nuzzling where it could on Randy, he broke that silence with a deep sigh and then spoke. "If this gets any bigger... I'm going to have to get The Queen Bee involved again…"

[inksandpensblog]

I saw someone in a YouTube comment questioning why Hama didn’t use her bloodbending to end the war and instead stuck to terrorizing average smalltown Fire Nation citizens, and I accidentally connected some dots in my head in an effort to counterargue. So here’s my hypotheses:

Hama was a regular Southern Water Tribe villager who happened to be female and also a waterbender. The southern tribe may have been more progressive than the northern tribe in that they allowed their women to do battle with their waterbending instead of restricting them to just healing (and heck Hama probably had some serious fight-training instead of having to self-teach and may have even been considered a warrior in her own right), but if Sokka’s sexism in the first few episodes of the series is anything to go by then the southern tribe clearly still had some outdated ideas about a “woman’s place” being at home, rather than on the battlefront. Regardless of how Katara might chafe against those confines if faced with them, though, it seems that Hama was perfectly content to remain with the village for the sake of protecting the home front; however, this means that her skillset as far as strategizing and tactics go is better suited to taking out those she perceives as trespassers on “her territory,” and wouldn’t be as applicable towards efforts such as infiltration or storming the capital.

Plus, the whole reason she discovered bloodbending in the first place was because she was desperate, so once she broke out she was probably more concerned with finding food and a defensible shelter and water she wouldn’t have to innovate new forms of bending in order to use. She was exhausted while she honed bloodbending and she would’ve still been exhausted after escaping prison. She needed a break, so it makes sense to me why she wouldn’t think to take out the big, overarching threats of the series at first. As far as why she doesn’t do it later…just because she’s a force to be reckoned with against hapless Fire Nation villagers doesn’t mean she’d fare as well against an alert army of firebenders or a whole palace’s worth of guards. Aside from her needing a full moon at night to access her full potential as a bloodbender, she legitimately might be hesitant to place herself in that environment again, after her experiences in the prison. Plus, there’s what I said earlier about her waterbending experience from before prison priming her to be excellent at defending territory but not so adept at invading enemy territory; it wouldn’t surprise me if it legitimately never crossed her mind that she might be capable of doing something like assassinating Fire Nation leaders.

On top of all that, Hama always makes the whole thing about what the Fire Nation did to HER; even when she talks about how the tribe was harmed or how she wants to pass on her legacy to Katara, it’s always framed as how those things affect HER, not anyone else. She’s not tutoring Katara for Katara’s sake, she’s doing it for her own; she’s avenging her tribe because she wants to, not because she thinks they would’ve wanted her to. She’s very selfish about it all, and I’m not saying whether or not she has the right to be after what she’s been through, nor am I speculating on whether she was always like this or whether it was a mindset she developed during imprisonment, but it would explain why her terrorism is so geographically localized and geared towards self-satisfaction instead of being anything that might truly aid the war effort.

[teacupcollector]

The Artist and the Intellect  (Sherlock x Reader)

Main Masterlist

Request: hey! I’d love it if you could write some fluff about the reader confessing her feelings for Sherlock to john and mary and them encouraging the relationship! maybe with a confession at the end? tysm!

Sherlock. The Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes the high functioning sociopath. The great detective of England and probably the whole world. This man stole your heart without even trying. From the way he wore his suits to the look in his eyes he seemed like he was created by God. His intellect was like no other. 

The way he could conjure up things in his mind, how he can connect the dots without having any to begin with. He is that great of a man. How you met him was kind of confusing. You see you were Mrs. Hudson’s grand-daughter and it was your first time seeing her in years. You see you were a traveling artist, from photography, to watercolor, to charcoal it seemed like you could do it all. You had recently come back from Germany after one of your many paintings were put up for all to admire. Coming back  with your recent earnings you decided to rent out the underground apartment that was heal in 221 B Baker Street. Despite your grandmothers protest you insisted that you pay her for letting you stay. 

Now a few months later you are currently making some tea for the tenants upstairs. Who you have come to know as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. John wasn’t there often because he had his own place with his wife Mary Watson. You place the pot and two cups on the tray. It was accompanied by a few cookies that you made earlier that day. You ascend the stairs to Sherlock’s apartment. As you get to the door you smile seeing him up from his regular chair and is on what you assume was John’s computer. “Knock Knock” Sherlock doesn’t look up from the computer as you walk in. You set the tea and snacks on the coffee table. You stand there for a moment before deciding to go back down stairs but his voice catches you off guard. “Where are you going?” He asks and you turn around. “I was going to leave you be. I don’t want to distract you. You are obviously busy.” You say and he shakes his head. “Quite the opposite really. You are no distraction.” He says moving his eyes from the screen to you. He looks you up and down before returning his eyes to the screen. “So what is your most recent project?” He asks. This surprises you. “What?” You ask and he sighs. “Your finger tips are darkened with what I assume is charcoal, yet there are a bit of blue paint along your hands and the sleeves of your shirt. SO I can only assume that you did highlights.” You feel your face become hot. “I uh... Yes I have been working on something... It is kind of a personal project...” Sherlock only shrugs. 

“Well at least wash your hands before eating.” He says and you tip your head in confusion. “Pardon?” Sherlock sighs and shuts the computer. “You have brought an even amount of cookies as well as two cups of tea. Am I wrong to assume that you wish to join me?” He asks and you tense up. “I-I thought John was in. I made it for the both of you...” You say trying to keep a level head because he is right. You did want to join him but you didn’t want it to be to awkward. “You cannot lie to me (Y/N)...” He says standing up and walking up to you. The tips of your shoes nearly touching. “... I can see right through you...” He says looking down at you. His monotone voice seeming softer. You both look up at each other. His eyes seem to set your body ablaze. You were sure he could feel the heat radiating from your face. You look away first and chuckle. “I guess the question is: Would you like me to join you?” His eyes are still trained on your face before looking away. “As long as you rinse your hands.” He says walking away and sitting on the couch. You nod and quickly head to the kitchen and begin to scrub your hands as well as splashing your face with cool water before wiping both hands and face with a paper towel. You throw it away and enter the living room and sitting on the couch. You still feel flushed and your palms begin to sweat. He has likely deduced why but you would like to have hope that he hasn’t. You both drink your tea in silence. It seems that on his part was a shared silence but for you it was awkward. As you are about finished you here a familiar text tone. A moan coming from the desk where his phone was placed. Your heart stops. Sherlock immediately stands up to go check his phone. You feel your heart ache in your chest. You know who Irene Adler is. A beautiful woman with well defined cheek bones, piercing eyes, and an aura that wreaked of dominance. You sigh and set your tea down. “I uh... I forgot Mary asked me to come over today. Something about Rose and how she might like a family portrait...” You say trying to keep your breathing under control. You stand up leaving the tray on the table before swiftly exiting the apartment. If you looked back you would have seen the look of slight confusion on his face. “So you see? He would never go for me...” You say with tears filling your eyes. “God I have barely known this man for a year and he has me all worked up” You chuckle. Mary sighs. “How can you be sure that he doesn’t fancy you?” She asks and you shrug. “I’m the artist, He is the intellect. He would like someone who could keep up with his train of thought. Someone with almost a great of mind as him. Someone more beautiful... And that someone is Irene Adler... I could never compare to her.” You say with a sniffle. John walks into the room as you say this. “Of course you couldn’t compare to her.” He says bluntly. “John!” Mary exclaims. “I mean! You can’t compare to her because you have other attributes that make you much more valuable.” You look up at John as he settles on the ground in front of Rose. “I’m no-” “Yes you are (Y/N). All Irene Adler is, is just a good looking woman. Yes she is smart, but for all the wrong reasons.” John says. “What do you mean?” You ask and he sighs. “She does things to benefit herself. Uses her smarts to get what she wants. While you. You are so compassionate.” John says picking up Rose and cooing to her. “John’s right...” Mary says. “You care so much for people and I am sure Sherlock sees that in you.” You shake your head. “You are making a portrait of him (Y/N). You put everyone else's needs above your own. Now you need to prioritize yourself...” Mary says. “What do you mean?” You ask confused. “I mean. You give him that portrait and tell him how you feel!” “But what if-” “What if nothing! No more what ifs! You won’t know until you do it!” She exclaims and you flinch. “ I’m just scared Mary. If he rejects me I don’t know what I’ll do.” John sighs. “Sherlock is my best friend and I know that he can be blunt, rude, and down right insensitive at times but I can assure you he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Not on purpose any way.” Mary wraps an arm around you. “You have a support system. You  have everything you need. Now all that is left is you telling him how you feel.” You nod. “Okay so how far along are you in your portrait?” She asks and you smile.  Back in your apartment you find yourself looking through your closet. You decide to ut on a nice casual outfit. Not something you would usually wear but  nice looking. You place Sherlock’s portrait into a frame and cover it with a small towel so he wouldn’t see it right away. You give yourself a small pep talk before exiting your apartment. You walk up the stairs to Sherlock’s apartment and sigh before knocking. From inside you hear his violin with the slight sound of footfalls. You decide to enter despite not having an invitation. You keep a tight grip on the towel covered frame as you turn the nob and enter. You stand at the entry way waiting for a pause in his music. His eyes closed at the window furthest from the door. You hum along to the melody quietly which helps ease the tension in your shoulders. The way his body moves along with the bow of the violin as if it is just an extension of his limbs. He looked completely different. As if he was in his own little world. He didn’t need to make deductions, didn’t need to work on a case, didn’t need to do anything.  He pauses and picks up a pen from his music stand to jot down some new notes. He glances in your direction. “Hello Sherlock...” You say almost breathlessly. After his music sessions the creases and wrinkles on his face seem less prominent. “Hello (Y/N).” He says setting down his instrument and walking in your direction. “How may I help you?” He asks. He glances down at the covered portrait. “I... I wanted to give you something.” You say shyly. It was rare that you give someone your work unless you were being paid to do so. This feels more intimate and real. You feel your breath hitch as you begin to remove the towel. It is a charcoal portrait with a splash of color. The sky blue paint highlighting his eyes. The only color present.  “I wanted to tell you something Sherlock.” You say taking a deep breath. “I know you must have deduced it by now but... I like you.” He looks between you and the portrait before carefully taking it from you. “Something that we both have in common are the difficulty to put our feelings into words. I hope that me giving you this conveys enough but just in case...” You take a deep breath. “I have liked you for quite some time now. You may be brilliant, cold, and calculated, but I see past that.” He traces his face on the glass through the frame. “You can be kind in your own way, you care deeply for others, and you have a fantastic sense of humor.” You chuckle and he looks up at you still quiet. “They say that “The eyes are the window to the soul.” and I can’t help but think it is true. I also hear you say that ‘“love is a chemical imbalance in the brain.” So I understand that you may not feel the same way for me but I ju-” You were suddenly cut off by his steps approaching you. You start to back up but in backing up your back shuts the door. Sherlock is yet again for the second time today very close. His eyes seem to look through you. He props the portrait against the bookshelf to the left of you before placing both hands on your shoulders. “Sher-” You find your body pressed against his as his arms wind themselves around you. A hand gets placed in your hair while the other weaves its way around your waist. You hug back slowly. “You are right (Y/N). We both have problems with wording things but in that portrait... Is that how you see me?” He asks and you nod resting your head on his shoulder. “I do...” He grunts in response before letting go. You let go as well as he takes the portrait and places it on the mantle above the fireplace. “What does this make us Sherlock?” You ask and he pauses before turning around to face you again. “What do you want us to be?” He asks. “I... I would like us to... You know... Be together?” “I assumed that, that would be implied after the moment we had together.” He says sitting in his chair before gesturing across from him. You take slow hesitant steps and sit down. “So yo-” “Yes I wish to be with you (Y/N). I will not say that the feelings I have are ”love” quite yet but I assume that things like that take time. If you would have me. I would really enjoy your companionship.” He says and you give a small smile. “I would like that very much Sherlock.” You say.

[equizona]

Hiii!! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕✨

I wanted to request headcanons for the bros having a normal dinner at the HoL until Mc who used to have really long hair shows up with a self-cuted bob, you can tell they cutted it by themselves but it’s still cute. When the bros asked about it they responded that they were having a really bad day and they cut their hair as an alternative to self harm.

If you feel uncomfortable you can skip the self harm part! I understand! I was just having a bad day and I decided to cut my hair for the same reasons and my Mamá didn’t take it really nicely, and idk i guess I just want comfort. Thank you I love your writing and again, I hope you have a nice day💕💕✨✨

Scenario: cutting your hair as an alternative to self harm

Note: Hello there! First, I wanna say how proud I am of you, even if I don't know you. The fact you cut your hair instead of cutting is amazing and I am so proud of you. I hope you continue to stay strong, and I'm sorry this took so long! Feel free to contact me if you need someone to talk to. [P.S: I did change the request up but it's mostly the same!]

Fandom: Obey Me!

Character's: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.

Reader: Kinda G-N! But also has hints that you're most likely a female in this.

Warnings: self harm mentions?

He's very confused.

He does NOT remember you ever leaving the house of lamentation, and your hair was still long earlier this morning.

What happened?

He'll ignore it though.

He'll give you compliments about your hair, and he'll be surprised when you say you cut it on your own.

Tells you that you have talent.

After dinner, he'll ask for you to meet up with him in his office.

He'll immediately ask you why you cut your hair.

Was something wrong? Did you simply want a change? Are you sure you won't regret it? He could find you someone who could grow your hair back out for you if you did?

When you tell him you did that instead of self cutting he's... uncertain on how to feel.

Firstly, he is EXTREMELY proud of you for deciding to do that rather than cut yourself.

He's also a bit disappointed in himself that he didn't notice.

He'll pull you in for a hug, and tell him how proud he is of you for doing that. And how lovely your hair looks short.

He'll tell you to talk to him if you ever feel that you need to cut, and you don't have any other option.

Or if you are simply sad.

He'll get you a therapist if you don't want to speak to him or his brothers.

He'll do almost anything so that you can feel better.

Won't get you knives or things that you can hurt yourself with, but anything else is fair game.

Shocked because why???

Your hair was so nice, and silky! And he loved running his fingers through it and making different hairstyles and all that fun stuff.

He's kinda sad.

But also, you look really good with that hair style?

And you did it on your own?

....ever thought about opening a hair salon? People would pay so much if you had that much talent and skill.

Now, Mammon is most likely the one that is the best on emotions of ALL his brothers.

He can tell when you're not feeling yourself, and it's only like 100 times stronger thanks to the pact you both have.

He'll talk to you when you're both cuddled up in your room, asking you what happened.

When you tell him he'll put the mask he usually has on down and let you know how amazing you are and how proud he is.

Will offer to speak to Lucifer about getting you a therapist, if you'd like.

It won't matter if this is a common way you feel, it only happens once or twice or this only happened once.

He'll do anything you ask of him.

'Cause he loves you more than even money.

Kinda jealous because he' never be able to look good with a hairstyle like that.

And then you're just like

"Oh, I cut it myself."

And he just shirt circuts.

You can cut hair? And even more importantly, your own hair!?!?!?!??!?!

That's so cool!

Why did you never tell him?

At least he's happy that it doesn't seem like any of the others knew about it either.

Now, I honestly feel like Levi's bad thoughts about himself has led him down the path of self harm.

He's surpsingly strong willed, and almost always manages to catch himself and do something else.

And he recognizes what you did as a common thing to do instead.

Asks just to be sure.

And when you tell him that yes, that was why you did it, he's heartbroken.

You don't deserve feelings like that. Actually, you deserve everything good and only the good.

He'll be a lot nicer, doing his best to give you compliments on the new hairstyle and telling you how proud he is.

Mainly fails, but it's okay.

He's trying, and he'll try his best for you to be happy.

<3<3<3<3<3

This man feeds off of anger, so if you did it in a fit of rage or anger, no matter small, he's there in a second to ask how you're doing.

If not? He won't notice. It's only anger he can feel, much to his dismay.

He'll have troubles connecting the dots at first, and will only be handing you out compliments next to Asmo.

Then it hits him that it might be more to it, considering how you're acting.

He'll wait until after dinner and claim you have to help him with something.

Get's really angry when you tell him why you did it.

Not at you though, never at you. At himself, and lucifer, at everything.

He won't keep it up long though, calming down really quickly.

He'll ask you to sit down and read with him, or he'll read to you. Or you can do something on your D.D.D while he reads.

Whatever you want.

Hell, he might decide to let you drag him out somewhere.

Whatever it takes to make you feel even a tiny bit better.

Immediately gushing about how amazing you look with the new hairstyle.

He wants to know where you cut it in the first ten seconds he sees you.

Super shocked when he finds out you did it on your own.

Will ask you to trim his hair sometime.

To be fair, he's no stranger to doing things about his appearance in a fit of strong emotion.

Something Lucifer isn't always the happiest about.

He won't point it out though, if you want to talk, you know he's there.

He drops hints like that, just to be sure.

If you do tell him the reason, he'll immediately pull you in for a hug and shower you in compliments.

Not only on your appearance, but on how amazing you did to cut your hair instead of cutting your skin.

Self care day

He'll push away any of his brothers, doing his best to make you feel the most confident you have ever felt in your own body

Also, he'll make sure you know he's there for you and offer to get a therapist if you'd like one

When it starts to get late he'll put on a movie in the background and cuddle you💞💞💞

He thinks you look great with the new hairstyle!

You looked amazing before as well, but you also look amazing now!

Honestly, he kinda forgets about it during the dinner, a hair cut doesn't change who you are and you're still his very best friend and love of his life

He'll do his normal "get up at 12am and drag you for midnight snacks."

And if you tell him, he'll drop his food and pull you in for a hug

He doesn't say much, but offers you his food.

Whenever he's sad, food makes him feel better, so he does what he knows and hopes it'll share you up too

He'll also be willing to do anything you ask

Want him to carry you? Hug you? Cuddles? Want him to talk to lucifer for you? Want to vent? Want to cry?

He's there for you

Honestly, I doubt he even notices.

He's to busy sleeping to care.

When he DOES notice it's when he drags you down to sleep and tries nuzzling his face into your long hair-

Wait it's gone?

He'll get kinda pissy, 'cause he liked your long hair, but then he noticed it's still super soft and just goes back to sleep

He won't even bring up the possibility that you did it as an alternative to self harm

It crossed his mind but he refuses to believe it

If you tell him, he'll react kinda negatively, and won't talk to you

For like 30 minutes max

Most likely only for like 5 minutes though

He'll realize that he should be there for you

Isn't sure what to do, so he just kinda cuddles you and apologies for how he reacted

He's very lazy put he puts in an extra effort to tell you how proud he is

Because cutting your hair is way better than hurting yourself and you did super good doing the hair cutting instead

He'll let his brothers help you during the day, and have you cuddle with him at night so he can make sure you have the best dreams

I'd say he's horrible at it, but the effort is actually pretty obvious and he makes sure you're guarded in the night

He tries

His best

And it works to some degree

<3

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 6

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

You are forced to wake up in a sudden by your alarm blaring. You squint your eyes, try to find your glasses or your phone to turn off that annoyance of the sounds of your alarm. You finally turned it off and put on your glasses then checked out the time. You forgot that you have to wake up earlier than you planned before Lizzie’s text yesterday. Once you see the time is 5 AM, you regretted that you stayed up late last night.

You groaned as you got out of the bed. Last night you decided to wake up at 5 AM just so you can give yourself enough time to get ready, let alone you have to try to beat the traffic to go to the office even though it’s Friday you just don’t want to take that risk, not today. Last but not least, you have to get the coffee that Lizzie specifically requested.

You try to get ready faster than usual. You picked semi casual attire for today with a low ponytail and flat shoes. You grabbed your purse, your laptop and every other thing you need for work today. You walk out then go to your mom’s room to check if your mom is awake.

“Ma, are you awake yet? I’m gonna go to work okay? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.” You half whispered hoping your mom can hear you but not loud enough to wake her up just in case she is still sleeping.

“Okay, good luck on your first day my dear.” Your mom replies in a sleepy tone.

You left for work but had to drop by at Starbucks near the office to get Lizzie’s large black coffee with half and half and two pumps of hazelnut syrup so it will still be hot when she gets it. That’s how she likes it and it’s one of a few list of coffee beverages she likes besides her precious seasonal pumpkin spice latte.

You finally arrived at the office at 6 AM sharp. The main building is already open due to some offices having early operation hours. You confidently go up to the office thinking it is already open as well or at least opened for Lizzie who is meeting you there but to your surprise the door is still locked and all the lights are still off. Puzzled with what’s going on, you pull out your phone and try to contact Lizzie to figure out where she is.

You try to call her but no answer. You wait for a few minutes in front of the office, then you try to call her again, which leads to the same result, no answer. Hoping that you will get an answer if you try to reach her in a different way, you decided to text her.

"Good morning Ms. Olsen, I'm here at the office. Are you on your way here by any chance? Thanks." You texted anxiously yet irritated. Fifteen minutes went by and still no words whatsoever from her. You decided to go back to your car and wait there.

You hate waiting yet that’s the only thing you can do now. Luckily, you parked at one of the Vernon’s office reserved spots so it will be easy for you to spot Lizzie when she comes. You sighed with annoyance every time you checked your phone and found nothing from Lizzie. You watch the parking spots around you like a hawk to spot Lizzie but shortly you are betrayed by your body, your eyes slowly close and you fall asleep. All of a sudden you hear your phone ring, it’s Lizzie. You jolted to check the time to find it’s 8:05. “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!’ You cursed in your mind and answered the call.

”Hello. Ms. Olsen. I’m coming right up.” You explain right away while you gather your stuff to get going.  “Where are you?! You are late. I have been waiting here for 5 minutes.” Lizzie asked, pretending she was upset about waiting. Making you come two hours early and letting you wait was her plan. Little did you know, Lizzie actually saw you sleeping in the car when she parked. Of course she won’t let this situation go to waste so she decided to just go up to the office to make it look like you are late. 

You finally showed up with one hand holding your purse and your laptop, the other handing Lizzie her coffee. “Good morning. I’m so sorry. Here’s your coffee. I got here at-..” before you could finish your explanation she cuts you off. “Um, my coffee is not hot, Y/n. Why is it cold? I like hot coffee in the morning. You need to get me a new one on the way there. We gotta go now or we are gonna be late. Thanks to you.” She gave the coffee back to you and walked away.

Your jaw dropped. You are so flabbergasted and irritated at the same time with what just happened as you saw her walk away with no remorse whatsoever. 

“Aren’t you coming?” What Lizzie said snap you back to reality and you proceed to follow her to leave.

Lizzie decided to sit at the front passenger side with you driving. You drive in silence, still upset that you have to go to Starbucks to get her another hot coffee. You ordered hers and your usual coffee. You got both of your orders, you put yours in the cup holder and you hand her hers. “Ice coffee huh in the morning? Grande Espresso frappuccino, light ice double blended with extra shot in a venti cup. Just because you like cold coffee in the morning, it doesn’t mean other people like it too, you know?” She commented sarcastically.  “Ms. Olsen, I got there at 6 just like you wanted me to, I tried to call and text you but no answer. That’s why your coffee got cold. It has been sitting for two hours.” You broke your silence but are still trying to keep it cool.

“Oh yeah, I slept in, didn’t hear my alarm.” Lizzie answered nonchalantly.

“Are you kidd--” You said in your mind then you took a deep breath. Hearing how she answered you, it made you connect the dots and you know what she’s up to. You know it’s normal if she really slept in but this happened on the first day you work for her, coincidence much. 

“I see.” You said it sarcastically and nodded slightly. “What? What do you see?” You got her attention. “Oh nothing. You did it on purpose didn’t you? You are trying to give me a hard time working.” You calmly confront her. “I told you I slept in. It’s up to you how you gonna take my answer.” Another nonchalant answer came out from her. You chuckle sarcastically then pull over and turn your head to look at her. She looks back at you confused.

“Look, Ms. Olsen. I don’t sugar coat things so please hear me out, I know you don’t like me because I got hired as the assistant you thought you don’t need and I don’t fancy you either. What you did this morning is completely childish and to me, you really give yourself a bad name such as a brat. I’m just here doing my job. As professional as you are and as stubborn as you are, no matter what game you are playing now, I won’t quit because I’m not a quitter. So why don’t you just let me do my job until the contract ends?” You raise one of your eyebrows and give her an intimidating smile then you start to drive again to the location.

Despite the fact that Lizzie actually got caught off guard with what you just did and with everything you said, she refused to give in. In fact it just provoked her more and started to ramble angrily “I told you I slept in! Just so you know, I have my own reason why I don't need a new assistant! You know nothing about me! So don't you dare call me a brat! Don't get too cocky. I’m not a quitter either. I’ll win.” She replied and just like that, they soon got into an argument and everything turned into one competition between you two girls who have the same level of unyielding obduracy. Nonetheless, both of you are consumed by your own ego and anger. 

You scoffed. "Oh come on! We both know you did it on purpose! I'm not stupid! 2 plus 2 is 4! Why don't you want a new assistant anyway? It's not that bad!" You raised your tone a little.

"Why the hell do I have to tell you my reason?! It's a personal thing! You work for me, don't you remember that?! Being childish is way better than being cocky like you. Just because you are the best assistant that Mitchel has, doesn't mean you're better than anybody else! So if you are as professional as you said you are, why don't you just zip it and drive?!"

The driving is now filled with tension and awkward silence. You decide to turn on the music just to calm you down. Clair De Lune by Motez Remix plays. The tune is actually catchy enough to Lizzie’s ears, she never heard this song before so she secretly checked the title on y/n’s car screen. “I don’t like this, I want to listen to something else.” She lied just to push y/n’s button yet again. “My car, my choice of music.” Lizzie rolled her eyes to what you said.

Luckily the traffic wasn’t that bad, you both arrived at the location on time. Lizzie gets out of the car and slams the door as she is still upset with you.

The photoshoot session starts. Both of you only talk when it’s needed. Not a single eye contact happens between the two of you. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch. Lunch is already catered, you prepared a plate for her, place it on the table. You sit with the photographer and crews on another table near hers.

She sits and about to eat but was stopped by something she noticed on her plate. Something that she hates, onions.

“Umm, Y/n, I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away. “ And why is that?” curious why she said that, you go to take a look at her plate and notice what’s the problem. “Sorry, I didn’t notice there’s onions there.” You added.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind eating it if there’s no onion in it. Since you are my assistant, I will let you do your job just like what you asked me to do earlier.” She said it sarcastically but in a low tone and gave you a smirk, knowing she just served you back your own words from the argument earlier.

You realized what she wants you to do, it won’t look good if the photographer and the crew see you argue with you since they didn’t hear what ridiculous “assistance” Lizzie just asked you to do for her so you just do what she asked you to half heartedly.

The rest of the session continues then you both go back to the office when it’s all done. The whole ride was awkward and silent from both of you with soft music playing in the background. Tension is in the air but that doesn’t stop both of you secretly exchanging glances to each other without you both knowing.

You both arrived at the office’s parking structure  just to separate to go home and move on with your day.

Ch. 7

[bloody-bee-tea]

Glance

Jiang Cheng is this close to punching Wen Chao in the face. The only thing that keeps him from doing so is the fact that his mother will have his hide if he does it, and so he grinds his teeth together and steps yet again out of Wen Chao’s immediate reach.

Wen Chao has put his hands on Jiang Cheng more times than he really cares to count and not even Jiang Cheng’s hissed “I have a goddamn boyfriend” seems to deter him in his advances at all.

He leers at Jiang Cheng and devours him with his gaze when he can’t get his hands on him and Jiang Cheng’s skin crawls with it.

“I bet you’re lying about your boyfriend,” Wen Chao even says at one point and Jiang Cheng has to do his hardest not to snap the fingers that are yet again itching towards his waist.

He is lying about the boyfriend—not that he would ever tell Wen Chao that—but he has kept that rouse up for long enough that it’s mostly believable.

His mother tried to arrange dates for him for a long, horrible while before Jiang Cheng snapped at her that he was already seeing someone and didn’t need her help.

She insisted on meeting the mystery boyfriend, but so far Jiang Cheng was able to dodge any too personal questions about it, citing he still needed more time before he introduced him into the whirlwind of their family.

That, sadly enough, seemed to garner a lot of understanding from all sides.

“I am not,” Jiang Cheng presses out now, and slaps Wen Chao’s hand away before he pushes him away for good measure, too.

Wen Chao has never heard of personal space it seems and with every step that he takes closer to Jiang Cheng he feels more cornered, feels more panic well up in him.

Jiang Cheng let’s his gaze roam the room, desperately trying to find someone who would be willing to help him, but his siblings are nowhere to be found and even Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu are gone from his sight.

He doesn’t even have think about trying to get help from his parents, because they would just tell him to suck it up and not be this dramatic but if he’s being honest, Jiang Cheng is this close to either breaking down or exploding in Wen Chao’s face and he doesn’t know which would be worse.

When his gaze catches the eyes of another person Jiang Cheng doesn’t even take the time to properly recognize him; instead he immediately starts to convey his dilemma through his eyes, hoping that the guy will have enough compassion to come and save him.

Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops when the guy looks away without moving and he’s hurt enough by that blatant dismissal that he allows Wen Chao’s hand to creep up on his waist again.

“See, it’s not so bad,” Wen Chao croons in his ear and Jiang Cheng wonders if throwing up on him would get the point across.

But instead of doing that he simply slaps his hand away yet again, much to Wen Chao’s apparent delight.

“Don’t touch me,” Jiang Cheng snarls at him but Wen Chao only laughs in his face.

“I love the feisty ones,” he tells Jiang Cheng as if he’s imparting some great secret and it makes Jiang Cheng sick to his stomach.

He can see how Wen Chao’s hand is itching to come forward again and Jiang Cheng braces himself for it, when suddenly another hand comes to rest on his waist.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my heart,” a voice says and then a kiss is being pressed onto the top of his head. “Who is this?” the guy asks and Jiang Cheng sags in relieve.

“Nie Mingjue!” Wen Chao says in surprise and Jiang Cheng blinks before he glances at the guy from the corner of his eyes.

It really is Nie Mingjue and now Jiang Cheng finally connects the dots. He was the guy he made eye contact with earlier and it seems like Nie Mingjue did decide to come to his rescue.

“It’s alright,” Jiang Cheng says with a small shake of his head, and then he steps closer to Nie Mingjue.

His hand on Jiang Cheng’s waist is warm and heavy, and he should hate it, with how often Wen Chao just had his hand there, but all Jiang Cheng can think is that Nie Mingjue’s hand feels grounding and like safety and unlike Wen Chao Nie Mingjue doesn’t use it to jerk him around.

It’s just there; a steady, heavy presence, allowing Jiang Cheng to move like he wants.

And he definitely wants to move closer to Nie Mingjue. It only barely has to do with the fact that he wants to move away from Wen Chao, too. Jiang Cheng takes the step that brings him squarely into Nie Mingjue’s personal space, hoping he’s not overstepping, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t stop him at all. Instead he makes space for him readily.

“Nie Mingjue is your boyfriend?” Wen Chao asks in disbelieve and Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops when he realizes just what he pulled Nie Mingjue into.

Jiang Cheng knows Nie Mingjue—of course he does, Nie Huaisang is his best friend—and pretending that they are boyfriends will get really messy really quickly.

“I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that wouldn’t be true,” Nie Mingjue says, with his no-nonsense manner and Jiang Cheng snorts out a laugh.

“You—” Wen Chao starts but Nie Mingjue doesn’t let him speak.

“Maybe you should go hide at your daddy’s side, before I remember the way you practically groped by boyfriend against his will,” Nie Mingjue calmly advises him, but there’s a sharp edge to his voice and Wen Chao has enough survival instinct to blanche.

“How dare you! You will regret this,” Wen Chao tries to tell them, but now it’s Jiang Cheng’s turn to laugh.

“We will see about that,” he says because he doesn’t think Wen Ruohan cares enough about his son’s hurt pride to pick a fight with the Nie’s and the Jiang’s.

Going by how quickly Wen Chao shuts up, he seems to know it as well.

“Get lost now,” Nie Mingjue advises him and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together to not burst out laughing.

He doubts anyone has ever spoken to Wen Chao like this and he thoroughly enjoys how he goes red in the face.

In the end he slinks away without another word though, and Jiang Cheng lets out a sigh of relieve.

“Thank you,” he says to Nie Mingjue when Wen Chao is out of earshot and he feels more than he sees how Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“You seemed desperate,” he gives back and then takes his hand away from Jiang Cheng’s waist.

Jiang Cheng wants it back immediately.

“I hope I didn’t overstep,” Nie Mingjue says with a wince, hiding his hand behind his back but Jiang Cheng is quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all,” he reassures Nie Mingjue and then bites his tongue when his traitorous mouth wants to add “I wish you’d do it again”.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t need to know about that.

“You told him you have a boyfriend?” Nie Mingjue asks then. “Isn’t he here? I hope he won’t be mad.”

Jiang Cheng looks around before he steps closer to Nie Mingjue again and he can’t help the grimace on his face.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” he tells him quietly when he’s close enough that they can’t be overheard. “I said that to stop my mother from setting up dates for me and then it somehow just stuck around. But Wen Chao will tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now, and I’m sorry about that.”

Jiang Cheng will have to come up with a reason for a break-up and then he’ll have to endure his mother’s dates and it will be hell for a while, but it’s better than dragging Nie Mingjue into this whole mess with him.

“I’m not,” Nie Mingjue says and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to understand what he’s saying.

“What?” he croaks out because Nie Mingjue cannot possibly mean that.

He knows Jiang Cheng; he knows what kind of mess he is and there is no way in hell that Nie Mingjue wouldn’t mind being associated with him like that.

“I’m just saying that I’m not against giving this a try,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug and a light blush on his cheeks and Jiang Cheng quickly pinches his own arm to test if this is a dream.

“You do know who I am, right?” Jiang Cheng asks him, because he very vividly remembers the numerous breakdowns he had in the Nie house over the course of the years; the yelling, raging ones but also the ones that left him as a sobbing mess on their couch.

Nie Mingjue cannot possibly want to have that in his life any more than he already has, thanks to Jiang Cheng’s friendship with Nie Huaisang.

“Of course I know who you are,” Nie Mingjue gives back and he sounds honestly affronted. “And I’ve been paying more attention than you seem to think,” he then adds on and Jiang Cheng jerks with his words, before his memory decides to kick in again.

There’s always that very soft blanket on the couch that Jiang Cheng adores so much, and his favourite drink is always in the fridge just as his favourite snacks are always in the cupboard and Jiang Cheng thought it was all Nie Huaisang’s doing but maybe he was wrong about that.

“I—” Jiang Cheng starts but then he simply doesn’t know how to end that sentence so instead he settles on “You’d have to meet my parents.”

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue easily agrees and Jiang Cheng balks at that.

“No one wants to meet my parents.”

“I can’t say that I want to meet them,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug. “But I want to date you, so of course I’m going to meet them.”

“You want to date me,” Jiang Cheng repeats weakly, even as his heart beats faster in his chest.

He never allowed himself to give too much thought about these stupid feelings inside of him whenever he thinks of Nie Mingjue, but maybe he’s allowed to now.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue says with a decisive nod. “If that is something you want to as well. Otherwise we’ll fake a break-up of course,” he says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Of course I want to date you,” Jiang Cheng hisses out and is not at all prepared for the way Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

Jiang Cheng momentarily forgot about the dimples he has, and it hits him like a brick to the chest.

Fuck, Nie Mingjue is gorgeous.

“That’s decided then,” Nie Mingjue says very smugly and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to deal with that at all.

“Stop that,” he hisses at Nie Mingjue who only smiles at him more.

“Why should I?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng goes red in the face.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” he tells him, but Nie Mingjue only shrugs.

“I don’t think so, and I don’t care. You’ll just have to deal with that.”

Jiang Cheng opens and closes his mouth a few times—much to Nie Mingjue’s apparent amusement—before he settles his face into a scowl again.

“That thing you called me, when you came to save me,” he finally whispers, going red with just the memory of it.

“My heart?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, not finding his voice. “You want me to stop that?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng can’t believe he’s going to have to say it but Nie Mingjue’s expectant look doesn’t give him another choice.

“I want you to do it again,” Jiang Cheng presses out and at least Nie Mingjue doesn’t laugh at him or mock him otherwise.

“Of course, my heart,” Nie Mingjue readily says and leans in to press another kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head as well, for good measure it seems.

Jiang Cheng feels a little bit like dying and a lot like this could be the best thing in his entire life.

“Now how do you feel about ditching this boring thing with me and going on a real date?” Nie Mingjue asks him, his hand hovering over Jiang Cheng’s waist in clear invitation and for this Jiang Cheng doesn’t hesitate at all.

He has been missing the warmth of that hand, the security of it, ever since Nie Mingjue first took it away and so Jiang Cheng steps close enough for the hand to make contact again.

“I feel good about that,” Jiang Cheng admits and is rewarded for that with another kiss to his head. “Is that going to be a thing?” he wants to know, unwilling to show just how pleased he is by that little action.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue decides. “You have the perfect height for it and I love doing it.”

He seems entirely shameless about it too, and Jiang Cheng’s entire being goes hot at his words.

“Fine,” he presses out as if it’s the worst thing he ever had to endure but Nie Mingjue seems to understand him just fine because he smiles at him.

“Let’s go on that date then, my heart,” Nie Mingjue says and gently steers Jiang Cheng forward, only using the hand on his waist to do it.

It feels possessive, in a protective kind of way, and Jiang Cheng walks slower than he normally does, just to feel the slight pressure of it.

He’s going to get addicted to this feeling—and the kisses, and the endearment and Nie Mingjue in general—Jiang Cheng just knows it, but he can’t find it in him to mind that.

Jiang Cheng is looking forward to it, really.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[bettyminicoop]

We're at AU since 504, and I'll prove it to you.

So, Riverdale is a comic.

No not like this.

RIVERDALE is a COMIC.

This is how this article began a day ago, when I tried to develop a theory about season 5 and try to explain the absurdity of everything that we have seen on the show lately. But Riverdale is really a comic, in which anything can happen, including events that take us to an alternate universe.

So, the main secret of the season 5 is not mixing ships, it's not about TBK, not about Moth Men, not about TRAUMA™. The main secret of the season 5 is: "What the hell is going on here?"

Does RAS like predictions? Jughead in 417 literally says, "In what future are we not together?" Thus, launching this universe, in which we find ourselves since 504. And there is an explanation for all this, oddly enough.

Honestly, I think that the absurdity of 518 helped me a lot. I realized that all the ship's nonsense of the season is a red herring. I calmed down, exhaled, moved a little further and looked at the whole picture.

For convenience in the future, I will call the events of the first four seasons as RD01, and season 5 since 504 as RD AU. So, everything that happened in RD01 also happened in RD AU, but in a different way. And something may not have happened at all. This is where all the inconsistencies with the plot of the first four seasons come from.

1. The writers are not lazy, they don't forget what happened 5 episodes ago. RAS simply deceived everyone by taking a very risky step. All of the plots that take place in Season 5 have a backstory that we don't know anything about. Except for certain plots that are taken out of the context of the first four seasons. But the difference is that all these plots that happened in RD01 went completely differently here in RD AU.

2. The episode of Citizen Lodge has the most direct evidence for the existence of RD AU. Because if this episode hadn't happened, it would have been hard to guess RD AU. It would be impossible to connect the dots. Citizen Lodge is the key to unlocking the mystery of Season 5 of Riverdale.

The Midnight Club takes place in 1992, but Citizen Lodge takes place in 1988. Although these are the same characters, in the same age range. But at Citizen Lodge we were shown newborn Veronica, because Hermosa never existed here. In RD01, the Lodges have a family rum business, RD AU Lodges are shoe shiners not originally living in Riverdale. The events of both episodes contradict each other, because they took place in different universes. This is not a fault of the writers, this is a deliberate hint. This whole new RD AU universe exists several years earlier than RD 01.

Small addition. In 516 it is indicated that Hermosa exists in the RD AU. But maybe she is younger than Veronica.

3. The last time a clear timeline is set is 503, when Jughead sits in Pop's a year after graduation. And when he walks out the door, he says that the next time he saw his friends was six years later. But we haven't seen that yet. Because that's where RD01 ends.

When 504 starts, nowhere is it stated how many years have passed. The first timeline is set by Veronica Lodge. "It's 2021". And this is the very first clue that we are in the middle of RD AU.

4. When Season 5 was announced, RAS said it would be a 5 year time jump. But by the start of the season, it turned into 7 years. And there is still no error. In RD01, after Bughead says goodbye on the porch, their next meeting actually happens in seven years. But we haven't seen it yet.

RD AU probably takes place five years after core four graduated from high school. And this is confirmed by Bughead's conversation in the bunker when Betty asks Jughead why he's bringing up a conflict five years ago. Which by the way does not negate the fact that voicemail happened only two years ago. Because it is the aftermath of a terrible five-year conflict that ended Bughead's relationship in RD AU. Do you seriously agree that kissing was a terrible thing to do? Probably something worse happened at RD AU.

5. On the chest of Archie RD AU there is no scar after his meeting with the bear, so this did not happen in this universe. We've been shown Archie's breasts so many times this season but we never really noticed!

6. Tom Keller and Sierra McCoy do not appear to be married in RD AU, although they literally fought the Gargoyle King for their relationship.

7. I believe that the RD AU timeline is shifted 4-5 years back relative to RD01. As confirmed by Bughead's bunker conversation and the events at Citizen Lodge. And this explains why RD AU is now in 2021, and not 2027, as it should be in RD01.

8. I watched season 5 very casually and hardly saw more than 1/3. So I need you to help me collect more evidence for the existence of RD AU. For every plot, event and conversation, you need to apply an AU theory filter. And I can promise you, every piece will find its place in the puzzle.

By the way, differences can be not only in plots and dialogues, but also physical in the appearance of characters and interiors.

I'm sure that Veronica's question to Archie, where he sees himself in five years, was also not accidental. But I no longer have the strength to develop this and build it in the context of RD AU. Especially because I don't know much about their relationship history. I trust you to figure it out.

And I wouldn't be at all surprised if Season 5 of Riverdale is still Jughead's book from RD 01, called Rivervale.

Will we get the RD AU backstory in Season 6? To be honest, I'm not sure if we need it.

Is Polly still alive in RD01?

Could Alice's hallucination at 518 be AU on AU? That is, literally being RD01 inside RD AU. Because these scenes were, it seems, the most "normal" in the whole episode. Follow up on this idea. Or we can just wait for season 6 special.

It does not matter at all which ships the RD AU will end with. It does not matter. Because season 5 and season 6 special is not about ships.

Maybe season 6 special is when RD01 and RD AU mix. Well, let's see, it's not long to wait.

Is there a chance RD AU will end on episode 100? Perhaps.

Please give this season and finale a chance. I am currently re-watching individual episodes to find confirmation of my AU theory, and now season 5 makes sense! Check it out for yourself. I'm sure there will be a TBK mystery in the final episode next week that will make my whole AU theory obvious. But I will write about this separately right after this post.

Looking back now, I think the flurry of spoilers ahead of 518 is literally when RAS went crazy. Because we're incredibly dumb and didn't want to see obvious clues in the narrative.

I will never pull this stone out alone. So, my young archaeologists, arm yourself with hammers and brooms, and help me bring this treasure to the surface completely.

I want to say THANK YOU to Bughead fandom. Because you are amazing. Because you are building theories, you are guessing, you are thinking. Because you spin every situation, you question every plot that happened on the show. And I am overwhelmed with complacency, because the uncovering of the main secret of Season 5 came from the Bughead community. After all, who else besides Bughead can uncover Riverdale's secrets?

And thanks to those who first brought up AU in Riverdale. Because only thanks to this theory, I was able to pull the thread and untangle the whole ball.

It's so liberating. It’s like someone has suddenly turned on the lights in the dark room we’ve been in since the beginning of Season 5.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[planetsano]

insecurities

request: in which Bakugou, Todoroki, Izuku, Kirishima and Kaminari are about to get intimate with their partner but their partner has body insecurities.

warning(s): may be triggering to those sensitive about their looks/body, low self esteem, implied sex, cursing, aged up (19+)

— [♡] ; bakugou katsuki

Bakugou is a bit brash and rough around the edges and he's fully aware of that, but when it comes to you, he's a gentleman. He is very careful, kind and protective with you. He's really into you.

So when you started crying in the middle of a heated make out he was startled. He immediately thinks that he hurt you somehow.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He’s looking down at you with concerned eyes and furrowed brows.

You're embarrassed and at this point covering your face with your hands while you cried.

“Hey. Talk to me, dummy.” Bakugou spoke to you softly. He'd gently take your wrist trying to remove your hands from your face. You reluctantly let him move your hands exposing your wet eyelashes and tear stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was small and you felt extremely vulnerable underneath his intense gaze.

“What are you sorry for?” At this point he's confused just as much as he is worried.

“I don't want to disappoint you..” You feel your bottom lip quiver and tears forming at the rim of your eyes.

“Disappoint me? What are you on about?” Bakugou is a tough boy but he's fucking beyond worried at this point. He just wishes you would tell him what's wrong so he could fix it.

You would finally admit to him that you don't like your body. You never have. That it's frustrating for you being in a relationship with him and wanting to take it to the next level but you just can't bring yourself to be completely naked in front of him. Not yet.

Man, his heart is really aching at your words.

He’s also shocked because he genuinely believes every inch of you is perfect so it's shocking to hear you're worried that he won't like your body.

He's not the best with words but he'll try.

“How do you not know that you're fucking beautiful? Everything about you is perfect, even when you annoy the fuck out of me you're still perfect. I couldn't care less about how your body looks so don't think stupid thoughts like that.” He tried and in the process he makes you smile the tiniest of smiles.

You feel a little silly because at the end of the day it's Katsuki for god's sake. This boy loves you so much.

He's willing to tell you that you're perfect everyday until you believe it.

— [♡] ; todoroki shouto

Todo wouldn't ever pressure you into doing something you weren't ready to do or something you weren't comfortable with. He's extremely patient and considerate of your feelings. It's almost scary what he can put up with.

But I think after enough rejection and excuses every time you two start to get intimate he’d start to feel like he was the problem. You know with coming from a traumatizing childhood, I don't think he'd take rejection, especially from a loved one, very lightly. It’d really hurt him.

He just wants to make you happy in any and every way possible so he would start to think he's lacking in some area.

Todoroki is very articulate with his thoughts so it wouldn't be long before he brought up how he was feeling.

It'd most likely be after another rejection, usually in the middle of a heated makeout and clothing start to come off.

“Darling.. am I doing something wrong?” His voice is soft as he looks at you sitting on the other side of the bed.

“What do you mean?” You tilted his head in confusion.

He then explains how he feels and you start to feel awful. You never wanted him to feel like you didn't want him. If anything you thought it would have been the other way around.

“Babe, no! You're not doing anything wrong. I'm just.. kind of insecure about my body. I don't want to upset you.” You admit.

Todoroki is upset because he thinks you're stunning in every way and doesn’t want to accept the fact you don't see you're as highly as you should.

From that point forward he's more determined to make sure he does everything in his power to make you feel beautiful and comfortable in your own skin.

— [♡] ; izuku midoriya

“We can stop if you want to, bunny.” Izuku’s voice is gentle while he looks at you in concern.

He knew something was wrong the moment your body tensed up when his hands began to pull at your shirt so he immediately halted his actions to check on you.

“No.. I'm just..” You struggle to find your words and he could see that. It was tough for you to admit you had body insecurities to him because you've never told anyone how you really feel. You didn't like being vulnerable so you kept it all to yourself hoping that one day you'll magically wake up and love yourself but it doesn't work that way. You knew that.

“It's me.. your Midoriya. You can tell me anything, remember?” He gave you a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze on your leg.

“My body.. I don't..” You trailed off feeling more and more anxious.

Izuku wouldn't press you to continue speaking because he would already connect the dots. Not from just now but other behaviors he's noticed throughout his relationship with you. It all makes sense now.

He's also upset that he didn't figure this out sooner on his own so he could comfort and support you.

Izuku is very in touch with his emotions so it wouldn't surprise me if he starts tearing up at you. He'd immediately reassure you that you're beyond beautiful and he doesn't care about how your body looks, he never has. He just loves everything about you.

He doesn't expect for all your insecurities to disappear at his words either because he knows it doesn't work like that.

Izuku is 1000% ready and willing to help you build your confidence every step of the way.

You two would end up cuddling and just opening up to one another. You both pinky promised that whenever you two were going through something that you would say something so you can be there for each other.

— [♡] ; kirishima eijirou

“Are you sure, babe?” Kirishima pulled away from your hot and passionate kiss looking at you with concerned eyes.

“Of course, I want to make you feel good.” You kissed him again, hands beginning to unbuckle his belt but something seemed off. You pulled away and furrowed your brows in confusion at your boyfriend.

He looked like something was bothering him and it worried you. Have you done something to upset him?

“What's wrong..?” You sat on your knees between his legs resting your hands on his thighs.

“I feel like I'm using you.” He admits.

“Why do you feel that way?” You shook your head in confusion still not understanding what was bugging him.

“You're always so willing to please me but.. I never have the chance to return the favor.” He says sadly.

“Baby.. you're not using me please don't feel that way.” Your hand rested on the side of his cheek.

“I just figured that.. I'd only do things for you because I’m scared that you won't like my body if we do have sex.” You say.

Kirishima doesn't know whether to be angry at society's unachievable beauty standards or mad at himself for “failing” to make you feel beautiful and comfortable in your own skin.

Of course he was unaware of how you felt about your body but he still feels like a bad boyfriend. He thinks he should've known sooner so he could do something.. anything.

Kirishima 100% wrapping you up in his arms and smothering you in a hug because he feels like right now that's all he can do.

He's thinking a million thoughts but the only words that he can form are; “I love you.. and I think you're the most breathtaking person alive.”

He's giving you forehead kisses while he basically cradles you in his arms.

You feel like crying but you hold it in. It just feels really good to be loved for you by someone you're head over heels for.

— [♡] ; kaminari denki

Kaminari is your biggest hype man. You cut your hair? He's hyping you. You're wearing a new outfit? He's hyping you. You do the bare minimum? He's still hyping you.

It's literally

You: H-

Kaminari: “You have no business out here looking the way you do.”

When he finds out you're not happy with your body he almost thought it was a mean joke to play on him and yourself.

He genuinely can't wrap his head around you not loving yourself because he thinks you're beyond perfect, almost otherworldly.

You told Kaminari that you wanted to before having sex and he was 100% and willing to wait for you.

But here you were, a little tipsy straddling your boyfriend on the couch. Everything was going well until that little voice in your head continuously reminded you about your insecurities.

Kaminari takes notice of your sudden shift in energy.

“We can wait, baby! There's no pressure!” He's giving you a reassuring and cheerful smile. His cheeks were slightly rosy from the drinks he's had earlier in the night.

“No.. I want to.. It's just my body..”

“What about your body, baby?”

“I don't like it.”

This boy loses his shit.

Like what do you mean you don't like your body? You're the most beautiful person he's ever seen! Kaminari is still waiting the day he wakes up because he can’t believe that he landed such a babe like you!

He holds your face in his hands and gives you a whole speech with an introduction, body and conclusion on every single thing he loves about you.

Kaminari is determined to help you build your self esteem by any means.

He loves you and you should love yourself!

[ronnie-azumane]

Petty

Oikawa x Pregnant Reader

Heyo! Since there are almost no pregnant reader haikyuu fics to feed my baby fever, I’m here writing this self indulgent piece. For my first one, I decided to write Oikawa x Reader, because I feel like he fits the story best (which by the way, is inspired by the events that went down when my sister was born). So yeah, I hope y’all enjoy! If you want more, my asks are open! I’m always open to feeding into both my and other’s baby fever.

Pairing: Toru Oikawa x pregnant reader

Warnings: Pregnancy; birth; Cursing; Oikawa being a petty bitch, you know, the usual.

Petty is defined as, “Of little or no importance or consequence,” according to the dictionary. And according to you and all your friends, there is only one person in the world that lives up to that definition.

Your husband, Toru Oikawa.

Ever since you started dating the pretty setter, the littlest things would transform him into the petty setter. And of all times, It had to be today.

Earlier this week

The two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix original you both stopped paying attention to a while ago. Toru held his hands over your swollen belly, rubbing occasional circles with his thumb. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sighing at the comforting warmth. 

“Hey, Toru, can I talk to you for a second?” You raise your head up and ask.

Oikawa hums in reply.

“So the baby’s coming soon, right?” You ask him as he nods along. “Do you think you could try to look presentable for the birth?”

Oikawa narrows his eyes and stares into your eyes, “What do you mean?” he half-asks.

“Like, for example, if I go into labor while you’re at practice, could you like, I dunno, shower? Put something on other than workout clothes?” you say. Oikawa’s glare stays glued on your face.

After a minute of the stare-down, you finally break the silence, “Look, Toru. Last appointment when you showed up all sweaty and gross, It was kinda embarrassing.”

In response, Oikawa scoots from underneath you and sits up on the couch, effectively ending the cuddle session. You wine at the lack of contact.

“You know what, I guess I can do that much,” Oikawa groans. Happily, you stand up, peck his forehead, whisper a quick ‘thank-you,’ and head to the kitchen to scoop you some ice-cream.

Oh how naïve you were to think that it would end there.

Present  

Sleep had been hard to come by tonight. You tossed and turned on your half of the bed as your husband slept soundly next to you (or as soundly he could with you moving so much next to him).

Sighing, you get up to make your way to the bathroom. Maybe a glass of water would help. Ok, it probably won’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

After sipping down the water, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. So many friends and family reassured you that you were beautiful, but frankly, you didn’t see it. Maybe it was because they only saw the good parts of you, not the eyebags you covered up with makeup, not the endless layers of stretchmarks that littered your body. Sure, you husband still assures you that you’re beautiful, but that didn’t prevent the insecurities from rising to the surface.

“You know, little one, you’re a lot of trouble sometimes,” you sigh, rubbing your yummy up and down. The baby, in response, gives you a little kick...

…a kick straight to the bladder.

You rush to the toilet to finish your business, sighing in relief as you didn’t make too much of a mess for once. After a moment, a sudden dull pain hit your lower back. This isn’t the first time this happened, you’ve been getting this pain off and on for the past few days. It was just then when it hit.

Those were contractions. You were going into labor.

Quickly, you rush back to the bedroom to wake up Oikawa. Before shaking him awake, you glance at the analog clock sitting on the nightstand. 3:39 am. 

“Toru. Toru, wake up. Now,” You whisper harshly as you shake his lip, sleeping body. He groaned in response and turned away, sliding his head under his pillow.

“Toru. I said now. Get up,” you whisper again, shaking him even harder.

“Five more min-” Toru was interrupted by the sound of water hitting the floor.

“Toru, my water just broke, the baby is coming. Get out of bed, now.” 

Connecting the dots, Oikawa sprang up from bed.

“Ok, get the bag, I’ll be a couple minutes.” Oikawa said as he made his way to the bathroom.

You grab the bag and set it by the door. not knowing what to do until Oikawa got there you paced around the kitchen. As you walked by the counter, another contraction hit, stronger than those previous. You gripped the counter, trying to ground yourself as your body powered through the pain.

After the contraction ended you looked around to see your husband nowhere in sight. You started to wonder what was taking him so long, so you rushed back to the bedroom.

You arrive to the bedroom to find him in the midst of a shower. The steam and the strong sent of Oikawa’s tea tree shampoo filled your nostrils. Most of the time, this would be a calming sensation, but today was not the day.

“Toru, please hurry up,” You whine, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute, babe,” Oikawa sings back. For someone who is about to become a father, he seemed awfully calm, you thought.

After much longer than a minute, Oikawa came out of the shower, donning his gray bathrobe and rubbing a towel through his hair. You sigh in relief, but the sigh is cut short as another contraction rocks through your body.

However, to your surprise, Oikawa doesn’t make his way to the closet, but to the sink. He pulls out a razor and shaving cream from the cabinet.

Oh fuck no.

“Toru, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask, your voice strained from the contraction you were pushing through at the moment.

“Shaving.”

“Toru, you and both know you don’t grow facial hair.”

“I have a bit of a stubble coming through, wouldn’t want to look bad for the little one coming,” Toru replied.

It all hit at once.

“Toru, is this about the conversation we had on the couch last week?” You ask.

“What are you talking about? I just want to look my absolute best for Oikawa Jr.” it was, damn that petty bastard.

“Damnit Toru, just hurry up.”

Two contractions later, Toru finished shaving his bare face. He waltzed his way to the closet, causing you to sigh in relief, until he came out holding two different pairs of pants.

“(Y/N), what pants should I wear?” He asks. In his left hand he holds a pair of slacks, in his right, a pair of jeans.

 “Toru, I don’t give a shit as to what you wear, just hurry up so I can birth your spawn”

“Oh really? In that case, I’ll go put on my workout clothes!” Toru chirps as he skips to the closet. You groan in reply.

“Just wear the fucking jeans.” You cry out as yet another contraction rips through your body.

“Anything you say~” He replies, changing into the pair of jeans.

You sit on the bed, waiting as your husband takes his sweet time slipping his jeans on, one pant leg at a time. At this point, the contractions have gotten both longer and more frequent. Everything was progressing smoothly, given the circumstances.

“Toru Oikawa, Hurry the fuck up,” you seethed, watching your dear husband as he walked out of the closet with four different shirts.

“Which shirt should I wear? I was thinking this one, but I’m not too sure,” Oikawa held up a white polo.

“Fuck you,” you cried as another contraction hit.

“I don’t have a shirt that says ‘fuck you,’ do you think the store would have one?”

“Toru, if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I will deliver this baby right here.”

“Fine, I’ll go with the polo. Although you could have just said so,” Oikawa whined. He threw the polo onto the bed and waltzed to the closet to put away the other three. Once he finished putting away the shirts, he put on the polo, grabbed a pair of shoes, and the hospital bag. You thought he was toying with you until you heard the jingle of the car keys in his hand.

XxX

”Hello Mrs. Oikawa, lets take a peak to see how far along you are!” The nurse smiled. Already dressed in a hospital gown, you put your legs in the stirrups to allow the nurse to take a look at your progression. 

Honestly, you just wanted this examination to be over, so you could order an epidural. At this point, the contractions were frequent and painful.

“How does it look?” Your dear husband asked, only for the color to rush out of his face when he looked at the nurse.

“What’s going on?” you question, but the nurse’s face of shock doesn’t ease your nerves in the slightest.

“Well,” the nurse stutters, standing up and taking off her gloves, “everything is fine, you’re just fully dilated, I’m honestly surprised you haven’t started pushing yet.”

“W-what?” you stutter in disbelief.

“It’s baby time!” the nurse smiles as she pages the doctor to come over.

“No epidural?” you ask, afraid of the answer.

“No time!” the nurse exclaims as she readies the equipment needed to deliver and care for the freshly born baby.

Oikawa started to shiver from the death glare you were giving him. The room almost seemed to drop a couple degrees from the ice in your eyes as you stared at him.

“Thank-you for taking your time this morning. I know the baby is going to appreciate your look, Toru,” your eye twitched.

“Look, y/n, I’m so sorr-”

“Save it” you interrupt. The two of you stay there in silence until the doctor comes in.

“Alright Mrs. Oikawa, ready to push?” The doctor asked.

To Oikawa’s surprise, you clutched his hand and readied yourself for the first push.

“Let’s get this over with.”

XxX

You cooed at the little girl in your arms. Her tiny flailing limbs rested against your bare chest, with the flimsy hospital blanket covering the two of you. Oikawa stood at your bedside, doting at his two favorite princesses. He would avidly deny it, but he did shed a couple of tears whilst looking at the small baby girl.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered as you rubbed the sleeping baby’s back softly with your thumb.

“Just like her momma,” Oikawa cooed, ending his sentence with a kiss to your forehead.                 

“Wanna hold her? You haven’t done skin-to-skin yet,” you asked, for him to answer a littler too quick. After all, who could blame him; he was about to hold his baby girl for the first time.

Quickly, he shed his shirt and folded it neatly on the arm of the chair next to the hospital bed. As he prepared himself physically and mentally to hold the baby, you started to sit yourself up, reaching for the robe you had brought.

Gently, Oikawa reached out to pick up the small baby girl. She was just so tiny, about the size (if not smaller) than the volleyballs he’s used to serving across the net. Little hands with little fingers, all with little fingernails and fingerprints. He laid her on his chest, to which she snoozed away.

“y/n, she’s just so perfect,” Oikawa cried. He held one of her tiny hands between his thumb and pointer finger to examine, to which she instinctively squeezed his thumb. At that moment was when his heart melted.

“Well, I’m glad you like her,” you yawned, lying back down to catch up on some sleep. 

Oikawa’s hands have migrated from the baby’s hand to the back of her head, rubbing his thumb over her forehead. Everything was perfect. Everything was peaceful.

“Toru?” you called out for groggily.

“Yes?”

“I’m still mad at you,” you said as you drifted off to sleep. Oikawa sighed. Any punishment was worth being able to hold his little princess in his arms.