#I don’t want to fill out anymore incident reports this week

[the-arch-elf]

Important Reminder

Conveyor belts are not a method of transportation for getting between the floors quickly. Stop riding on them, and please stick to taking the stairs or the elevators.

Yours, Bernard

[statticscribbles]

Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down  on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of  the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

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[sunfish-studies]

Flight Down

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: attempt murder (???). Jealous, borderline crazy fangirls. Hospital. Injury. Blood. Slurs

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

More than a time, things went out of control–not only because of us, but others could be held responsible for it too.

You couldn’t always keep everything under your command–that is life and you understand that aspect very well. The perfect scenario planned in your head will always be interrupted by something–nothing is called ‘run smoothly’ all the time in this world.

That’s why you always tried to prepare–still with that, sometimes things went out of your control league. No, it’s not because of you–factors from the third party successfully caught you off-guard, however you tried to settle everything down as best as you could.

Except this.

“Quit being the manager. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“And how many times do I need to let you know that it won’t happen.”

Intimidation of Oikawa’s fangirls–they never did it in the light of the day because they had it done via underground and dirty ways. One of them was cornering you.

“You disgust me.” She gritted her teeth. “Really that thirsty for attention, huh, whore?”

You held your head high. “I should be the one saying that.”

“Why you-!”

“Wait, Mako-!”

The next thing you knew, your feet didn’t touch the ground anymore–everything flashed, but at the same time fell into slow motion in your head. Your head went blank before it was immediately dragged back to reality by excoriating pain hammered onto your body.

Opening your eyes–you didn’t even know when you closed them–the world was blurry, the first thing in your line of sight were stairs. All you heard was intense ringing in your eardrums, failing to comprehend anything went through your hearings.

“What did you do!? This isn’t the part of the plan!”

“You’re a murderer! I can’t believe this!”

“I-It was an accident!”

“I don’t want to be involve!”

“S-someone call an ambulance!!“

Everything hurts.

                                                        ✎ . . . .

Oikawa goofed around most of the time, however there are times he discarded that personality and turned into someone who could be mistaken as someone else or another person possessing him.

You weren’t back from filling the water bottles for quite some time and the team started to get dehydrated. So, as a captain, he went to fetch you–already arranging a set of teasing complete with its plan B if somehow all of them failed.

He was ready to teased the heck out of you, he was ready to annoyed you with the most recent useless gossip he managed to hear during class, he was ready to be smacked on the back because you’re so done with his antics.

But, he was never ready to see you lying on the ground at the bottom of the stairs motionless–small splatters of red visible beside your head.

He swore he lost several beats of his heart from the view. And everything went blur for him–running in extremely fast pace his brain failed to comprehend fully to every detail.

He remembered screaming so loud the team could hear him from the gym.

He remembered rushing towards you, harshly fell onto his knees–trying his best to pick you up into his arms from the floor gently even though his hands trembling greatly.

He remembered the sticky and wet sensation on his palm once he placed a hand on your head–when he pulled back, thick crimson color decorated.

Iwaizumi was the one who answered to his desperate screaming for help–borderline of panic and hysteric. Once he arrived, he could hear blood roaring in his ears and his mind blanking for a few seconds. The precious few seconds he could use to call an ambulance or screaming for the coach instead of being frozen on the spot–eyes widening in horror.

Hanamaki joined the screaming parade almost automatically–panic drenched him instantly when his eyes found your battered form in Oikawa’s arms. The captain had tears running down his cheeks and he swore he felt the same. But he welcomed the panic, because it grounded him to reality and went to his captain–asking questions. Is it for his sanity or Oikawa’s he didn’t know.

Matsukawa had to lean onto the wall–somehow, his legs lost their strength to keep him standing. He even had to punch the wall as hard as he could–no, it wasn’t because he’s angry, it’s because he needed the pain to assure himself that this was indeed reality. Even if he knew it was real, his mind was still trying to deny the truth.

If Matsukawa leaned onto the wall, then Yahaba slumped to the ground once he witnessed the horrifying scene. He couldn’t move an inch–as if his body was chained to the ground. He couldn’t even tell if he was breathing or not–his mind went white without anything present. Trembling heavily on the ground, he could hear his ears ringing–blocking Hanamaki and Oikawa’s screams.

Watari instantly put a hand upon his mouth–if he didn’t, his lunch would be out of his stomach from the intense paranoia and panic crashing onto him. With shaking hands, he snatched his phone from his pocket–pressing the emergency call button in order to seek for medical help.

Kyotani was no better than Iwaizumi or Matsukawa. The boy was rooted to the ground, eyes widening. He knew he need to do something, anything to get this sort immediately. The sooner you got help, the better it will be. However, no matter how he screamed to his own mind, his body wouldn’t move an inch.

Kindaichi was instantly by your side. His body and mind didn’t synchronize–he couldn’t hear what he said, all he felt was his lips moving however all he heard was the beating of his heart trying to wrench its way out of his chest. His mind supplied him with endless questions–how on earth did this happen? Who did it? Why?

Kunimi almost retched on the spot–seeing thick red line running from your head to your chin was enough to nearly forced itself to be emptied. His breath went out of control–his mind was consumed in panic, his brain was numbed by shock, his body felt as if there were mountains holding it down.

Coach Irihata barked at the medical team to immediately take you to the hospital–not minding anything about practice at the moment. Coach Mizoguchi tried his best to ground the other boys, giving his shoulder to lean on.

Thankfully, after hospital and several detailed vital check-ups, you didn’t appear to receive heavy concussion. Still, you had to suffer a mild one because the height wasn’t something you would laugh about. The doctor listed everything–bruises, light sprain on your left leg, gratefully none of broken bones, absence from school for at least a week.

The team never failed to give you a visit almost every day after practice–the coaches even went with them for the sake of seeing you. They brought along sweets and small gifts to wish you well (and you never thought Kyotani would give you a bouquet of fresh irises, he’s really thoughtful).

While they put up a façade as if nothing happened, truthfully they flipped the school upside down. The Coach Irihata reported the incident to the principal, demanding a throughout search for the culprit. At first they deemed it was some sort of accident, however if you were to fall from the stairs from tripping you would at least protected your head and conscious–thus calling someone for help via phone or else.

Fortunately, someone heard some girls talking about the incident the other day–something in line about ‘what should they do?’, ‘what if Otohaku reported them?’. The team didn’t want to question you, seeing how you trembled slightly after Coach Mizoguchi asked gently of what’s truly happening.

They immediately reported it to the volleyball team, although promising to keep their name anonymous because they didn’t want to be involve.

If the three girls went unscratched from the volleyball team’s confrontation physically, it would leave a huge scar mentally. Well, would it be a prank if tall boys suddenly barged into your classroom to slap a hand upon your desk? Their looks were nothing less than menacing.

At the end, the culprits blubbered out an apology–even as far as kneeling on the ground from Oikawa’s glowering stare. He felt a sickening satisfaction from the view–though he hoped he could make her pay more for hurting you out of ugly jealousy.

[marvelatthetwilight]

Love you more

Feeling in a giving mood so you’ve got two parts posted together! - Addie ♥️

Love you anymore

I think I love you

“I just don’t understand why I’m sitting out here, in the cold. Where is Paul? What’s going on Jared?” Just as Jared is about to speak, Sam appears from the path.

“We had a few issues in the kitchen, so there’s been a change of plans, we’re just going to hang out here until we can get everything ready. How’s your day been Y/N?” Sam attempts to distract Y/N from her suspicions as he catches a glimpse of Kim at the door, giving him the thumbs up.

Y/N doesn’t let go of her suspicions, but she’s excited to talk to her friend about her job, and she chats away about the strange incidents she had helped with that week. She was most fascinated by the different reports of larger than life wolves in the forest, and she shared her suspicions with the group about what kind of animal it must be.

The pack exchange glances, and Jared smirks, about to share his own insight, when Embry returns up the path to let Sam know the animal problem had been dealt with. “Some tourist had let their huge dog off its leash and it ran away, it’s reunited now though so we are back on track!”

“Great, Y/N, let’s head down to the beach now.” Jared says excitedly as he grabs Y/N’s hand and pulls her up from her seated position on the floor.

“I’m assuming the answer is no I can’t go and see Emily and Kim first?” She whispers to Jared, who laughs and shakes his head.

“This will be worth it, I promise.”

Jared holds out his arm to Y/N and they link, walking towards the path, sharing suspicions about the strange animals.

As they near the bottom of the path, Y/N can hear soft music, an acoustic version of her favourite song playing from a small speaker tucked under a tree.

She looks ahead and can see a low table set up on the sand, surrounded by candles, with Paul sat next to it, dressed in a smart shirt and tie.

Y/N’s face flushes, no one had ever done anything like this for her before. She thought carefully, realising that really she hadn’t understood true romance until she met Paul. He made her feel like the most precious person in the world, she felt special, she felt cared for, respected, and loved. Jared squeezes her arm and then turns around, running back up the path, leaving her to walk to Paul on her own, her heart hammering in her chest.

She takes the opportunity to take him in, admiring his face, his eyes gleaming, his gorgeous smile lingering on his cheeks. Oh I love him Y/N thought to herself. There was something about Paul that just drew her to him, and every new piece of information she found out about him just made her love him more, though she hadn’t realised that till that moment. Neither of them had said this to each other yet, and considering they weren’t even officially dating Y/N decided to keep this piece of information to herself, for the moment at least.

Y/N reaches the table and Paul stands up to hug her, pulling her in close, taking in her scent to calm his nerves. This was the moment where he would explain what Y/N really meant to him and he had been planning it all week. Kim and Emily helped him with the logistics of getting her here and making it romantic, but the words were all down to him.

Paul takes a deep breath, letting her scent fill his nostrils and calmness flow through his body. His anxiety and stress had been through the roof all day, so when things had gone wrong he couldn’t stop himself from phasing, he needed to keep calm in this moment, the last thing he wanted to do was phase in front of Y/N and scare her away.

As they pull apart from the hug, Y/N stands on her tip toes to place a quick kiss on Paul’s lips. “I missed you.” She says softly, “where have you been? Everyone’s been really weird with me since I got here.”

Paul rubs the back of his neck. He takes a deep breath, takes Y/N’s hand and gestures to sit down. “From the moment I met you I fell...”

“First course is served!” Seth shouts as he and Colin come bounding down the path carrying plates.

“Seth! Not yet!” Paul says with his teeth clenched and the two younger pack members come to a stop at the table.

“Oh erm, Emily told us to bring them now, should we go back? It’ll probably get cold if we do that...” Seth shrinks back when he sees Paul’s glare directed at him.

“We will go back, Emily can just make new food! It’s fine, everything is fine!” Seth spins on the spot, heading back up the path, but when Colin tries to do the same he loses his footing and drops the plate, food landing in Y/N’s lap.

“Colin!!!” Paul growls, his face flushing and breathing deepening.

“Er, Y/N you need to move. Now.” Seth shouts as he bounds over to Y/N and grabs her arm. This only angers Paul more. Before Seth has the chance to help Y/N leave the beach, Paul is replaced by a massive, dark silver wolf, crouched and ready to spring.

“Get back Y/N, Colin, get her.” Seth instructs as he moves away and phases, a sandy coloured wolf, significantly smaller than Paul’s standing in his place instead.

Y/N doesn’t have a chance to process what has happened in front of her before more wolves appear and Colin drags her up the path to Emily’s house whilst Paul is distracted.

Over two hours passes of Y/N sitting in shock at the dining table in Emily’s house. Jacob, Emily and Quil try to calm her down, making her eat and drink, before she’s finally in a position to talk, and ask questions.

After an hour, Sam returns, and attempts to answer as many of Y/N’s questions as possible knowing that this wasn’t the way Paul wanted things to go so trying to calm Y/N as best he could.

“So where is he now? Is he ok?” Y/N asks after a few minutes of silence. She had run out of questions at this point, still trying to process, but realising that it didn’t matter, it didn’t change how she felt.

Sam smiles at this, knowing now that the imprint bond was in full force.

“He’s ok, Jared took him out to run and calm down. He should be back soon, hopefully.” Y/N nods at this, taking a sip of the coffee in front of her.

At that moment Embry, Quil and Seth come bounding in, smiles on their faces, indicating that all was back to normal.

Jared follows them in, moving to Kim and placing a kiss on her cheek before wrapping his arms around her. Y/N smiles at the interaction, and her heart lines for Paul.

Lastly, a rather sheepish looking Paul steps through the door, eyes immediately searching for Y/N, worrying that she had left. When he sees her his face breaks out into a huge grin, and Y/N returns it, standing up from her seat and moving towards him slowly, worried that too much movement could spook him.

Paul holds out his hand and they walk together back towards the beach.

“Y/N I..,” Paul starts before Y/N interrupts.

“I know Paul. Sam explained a lot of it. But...it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Paul smiles his cheeky smile, “how do you feel about me?”

“I love you Paul.”

They stop walking and Paul turns to face her, cupping her face with his hands.

“I love you too Y/N.”

“I know, but I love you more.”

Taglist:

@fatiguing-thoughts @clearwater-hoe @volturidoll13 @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @wallwriterstuff @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle @moviequeen51 @evakipara

[thanx-idonttry]

Bakugou x Black Singer/Blogger!Reader

They Are Pro Heroes, like Age 25.

This came out longer than expected.

Tags: Fluff. Bakugou being a fanboy.

You weren’t hugely famous, but you were internet famous, and that’s still pretty huge. You were just a Black girl showing your voice, hoping to brighten someone’s day.

And with each video of you upload to your blog, you manage to make over 1 million people smile. And one of those 1 million people was Katsuki Bakugou, A.K.A Dynamite. One half of the #1 Pro Hero of Japan.

A few years after high school, He and Midoriya teamed up and climbed the charts to the #1 spot. As busy as he and Midoriya is, he always finds time to watch each and every one of your videos.

He made a secret page under another name, just to like and reblog your videos. He likes to start his day by clicking one of your singing videos, and blare it through his house as he gets ready for the day. He could be going to work of off for the day, he’ll play one of songs.

The man was hooked as soon as he heard you do a cover to Beyonce’s “1+1″. He was shooketh! He’s used to hearing your original songs, you rarely do covers. But he still loved it. Unable to look away from you as your power house voice blocked out everything around him. He loved hearing you sing or watching your other videos of miscellaneous things because it relates to your culture, which he really isn’t exposed to all the time. So he watches to learn more.

But he really just likes watching you. You look so passionate when you do your blogs, it was so interesting to  him. You were such a foreign masterpiece to him, everything from your thick, curly (or braided) dark hair. Your brown (or Hazel) eyes seemed so bright to him. Your skin tone was so wonderful, it always made you look like you were glowing. And your attitude was nothing to play with. He realized that when you obliterated a racist hater on one of her live videos.

He was crushing, he was crushing hard and didn’t even realize it yet. He’ll put on one your videos to relax him Not long before his friends catch on and realize that he was a fan. The first to find out was Midoriya. (He works with the man sooo...) Catching Bakugou watching your videos. “Oh you Follow Y/N too? I think she’s really talented.” Midoriya says to him.

Katsuki, who was still wrapped up in watching you talk about the injustices against your race, he accidentally let “She’s so fucking wonderful.” Slip out loud, and Midoriya smirked teasingly.

Bakugou stiffened, completely frozen with wide eyes and a red tint hitting his face. “Did I hear right? Kacchan has a crush on Y/N?” He teased. In honesty, he’s happy for Bakugou.

But Bakugou being a proud man, doesn’t want to fully admit it. “SHUT THE HELL UP!! I just think she’s... Cool.” He says while still trying to cover up his flushed face, He didn’t want anyone seeing this.

He was embarrassed, his secret is out. He kept you a secret because it was his way of having you all to himself. Even though he didn’t know you and Vice Versa, he wanted you to be his in a way. So yeah, he was crushing.

“So you already know she’ll be here in a couple of weeks for her blog and to do a few promotions. Why don’t you make some arrangements to meet her?” Midoriya suggests, and it makes Bakugou nervous.

“I don’t know about that, she never really mentioned Heroes in any of her posts... I don’t think she’s interested in Pro Heroes.” Bakugou said with some disappointment in his voice

———

“The Wonder Duo once again saved over 200 civilians who were attending a charity ball that was taken hostage by villains. And—” You didn’t even get the chance to hear the rest of the news report because you started fangirling over Dynamite.

They showed clips from the incident and all you could think was how good he looked taking down those villains. You were such a fan of him, but you thought that people would discriminate you two because of your races. Don’t want to constantly hear “DyNaMiTe DoN’t EvEn LiKe BlAcK GiRls” *Insert Eye Roll*

You kept your love for him a secret, if only your fans knew that he was the reason behind every love song you made. You have merchandise from the hero, your love for him ran deep. So you were looking forward to your trip in a couple of weeks, being in the country as Dynamite gave you goosebumps.

A huge part of you was hoping to run into him while you were there. Get him to sign a few things before finishing his patrol, maybe have a little chat. You squealed at the thought of being in front of your favorite hero, thoughts of possibilities floated into your head, like possibly getting a hug, or like sing for him! You wondered if he was a fan of you.

Then a frown appeared on your face, He’s probably too busy to look at your videos. Sure you had fans, but someone like Dynamite is probably  too preoccupied with cooler shit to watch your videos. I mean, you two are from different worlds. Then the comments from people of your blog saying “PRO HEROES FROM JAPAN DON’T LIKE BLACK PEOPLE”  “DYNAMITE DON’T LIKE BLACK GIRLS” Blah, Blah, Blah.

You were worried that your favorite hero wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You grabbed your plushie of Dynamite and held it tight, you did your best to let them thoughts go, but you knew there was only one way to cool your jets, was to blog about it, then make a video afterwards.

You ranted about black love and the appreciation of Black x Japanese interracial love, and that it’s okay to date outside your race. Love is Love and as long as they respect each others cultures and truly love each other. After you logged off, you started getting ready for your trip. You ignored your phone going off, and continued packing.

When you were done, you decided to write a song to help with the left over nerves you got from multiple things. As you sit there in your bonnet, (Favorite color) tank top, (Other Favorite color) shorts, your house shoes booties, typing lyrics into your phone. In your most natural state, you wondered if Dynamite would like you like this. 

You know that you’re beautiful, but the possibility of your future not finding you attractive does bother you. You kept telling yourself to stop thinking  like that and focus on your shit. You don’t need obsessing over petty little shit from people you don’t even know.

_____

Bakugou watched your rant video the moment he woke up. He woke up and grabbed his phone. Once he saw your notification on his phone, he fully woke up and instantly clicked play. Once he didn’t see your bright smile, he knew something was up. 

He laid in his bed, watching you rant about Black love. He heard you mention Pro heroes, and his eyes widened. He knew someone had irritated you, and that irritated him. He knew for sure that he, and a lot of  heroes and civilians here don’t discriminate. He wanted to know who the hell filled your head with this bullshit?! He wanted to make a video, yelling at the extras that think that told you this crap. He wanted to set them straight.

But then people will find out that he’s a fan of you, and if his friends  find out... he’ll never hear the end of it. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero will tease him at every given moment. But he wanted to let you know that all of us Heroes in Japan have nothing but love for the black community. 

Mirko, the Hero he was a sidekick to for 5 years, She was black. And she was the most Badass out of all heroes. He didn’t want you feel this way, he wanted to find a way to make you smile. You make him smile every morning, so he should return the favor. He’ll have to figure out while he patrolling today.

Bakugou got his opportunity while patrolling with Midoriya. The town was holding a festival and a lot of people were attending, including 5-6 News reporters. The Mayor had asked them to guard the event, and of course, being heroes, they accepted.

A idiot wannabe Villain with his quirk being animal shapeshifting, turned into a giant, raging Ape. He was bent on destroying the festival and everything that makes people happy. He and Midoriya took him down in like 10 mins, and of course, reporters wanted them to say a few words or interview them. “Dynamite! Deku! Do you have any words to say?” a  reporter asked as she shoved her mic in his face.

“All I wanna say is... I  fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“ Then  he walked off to give the villain to the cops. Midoriya chimed in and said. “I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“ Then he walked off, catching up to Bakugou.

____

“All I wanna say is... I  fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“

“I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“

The video you watched on the plane was weeks old, but it stills get you feeling good. After you saw this video for the first time two weeks ago, you kinda been smug about it. But not in a bad way.

You felt safe Wearing your Dynamite mearch while blogging or singing. You showed a different side of your room, The side where your shrine to Pro Heroes were. Posters, pillows, and Chibi Dolls.

You even Admitted it to your fans that you were a Hero Nerd, and that brought more followers to your page. You felt great that you didn’t have to hide anymore. Little did you know, A certain Hero was following and loving it more. Making sure to leave a like and reblog on your content.

You were excited for this trip and the Concert you were opening for tonight. You also have a Meet & Greet, so you know this will be great for your content. You were also secretly hoping to run into your dream Hero. You know they say “Don’t Meet Your Hero!” But they can eat your ass because you’re making that happen! You’re favorite hero loves Black Women.

You started to wonder... It’s kind of weird how after you made your rant video about Black Love, He said that on the news. A surge  went through your body as your mind wondered to the fact that Dynamite might actually watch your videos! What if he comes to your concert? *Le gasp* What if he shows up at your meet and greet?! Your internal fangirl started coming out. You had tell yourself to calm down before the people on the plane think you’re being killed or something.

You took one selfie to show that you were on the way, posted it, and fell asleep. When you wake up, You’ll be in Japan.

____

Bakugou was changing out of his hero clothing, finally ending a long day at work. He had just got healed and patched up, and not he was prepping to leave when his phone went off. He reached for it and saw that had you had posted a selfie, and now you’re going live as you approach a familiar theatre.

His eyes widened, He knew exactly where that place was. Then Deku came bursting in, phone in his hand showing the same video he was watching. He had such excitement on his face, he honestly startled Bakugou the way Midoriya bursted in.

“KACCHAN! KACCHAN! WE CAN MAKE IT! WE CAN SEE AND MEET HER!“ Midoriya yelled. His eyes were showing that excitement when he meets a cool hero, a smile to match his excitement. “Get dressed quick! we can still make it on time to see her perform.“

“SHHHH! Shut The Fuck Up Before Someone Hears You Deku! and, I know. I’m getting ready.“ Bakugou had a slight blush on his face, and he was trembling. Why the fuck was he trembling?! He’s just going to meet a person that he enjoys. Someone that he watches damn near everyday and plays her music, nothing special right?

His heart was racing, he couldn’t control his feelings inside, but he did his best to not show them externally. He doesn’t want to look like Midoriya right now. But he had to admit it to himself, he was excited as hell.

Both of them put on hoodies and Sunglasses to hide their identity as they went to the concert. Bakugou’s trembling got a little more noticeable because he was in the same building as you. When you came on stage, Bakugou’s breath hitched. You were even more stunning in person, it was like you had a glow around you as you thanked everyone for coming out. 

As you began to sing, what normally happens to Bakugou, happened 10x more. As your voice hits his ears, he tuned out everyone here. He got tunnel vision, and all he could see and here was you. Midoriya looked at his friend and noticed that Bakugou had loving/relaxed smile on his face. His eyes glued on you. And that gave Midoriya an Idea.

When you were done with your performance, Midoriya dragged Bakugou backstage, to your dressing room. The guards weren’t letting them pass until Midoriya revealed who they were, then the doors flew open for them. (Perks of Being the #1 Heroes.) They knocked on the door, and heard your voice, Bakugou tensed up.  

The only thing that separated you and him was a door. Bakugou’s breathing got heavy, all common sense and the words he knew floated out his head. all he thought was “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! SHE’S BEHIND THIS DOOR!!!”

You asked who was it, and Of course, Midoriya was the one to speak first. “Hi, you don’t know us, but My name is Deku, and I’m the #1-“

The door flew opened before Midoriya had the chance to finish. You stood the with your eyes wide and jaw to the floor. In front of you stood Japan’s #1 heroes, you couldn’t believe it. “No fucking way!” was all you could get out. “I just wanted to say that I know you had a meet and greet, but we’re big fans, especially my partner here. We couldn’t wait” Midoriya finished before pushing Bakugou forward towards you. 

Bakugou stumbled but caught himself as he stood directly in front of you. There you stood, in all your glory, looking like a Black Goddess. He felt like  he wasn’t worthy to be in your presence. He had to collect himself, he had to say something to you! Wait a minute, he’s Katsuki fucking Bakugou! Dynamite! The Great Explosion Murder God! He shouldn’t be nervous! He’s got this

He cleared his throat, then you smiled at him. All that nerve he built, fluttered away like butterflies. He grew a love sick smile and looked at you lovingly. “I love you” Slipped out of his mouth. You gasped, then Bakugou realized what he said and nervously tried to correct his mistake. “Your Work! I love your work! I mean I don’t love you- not to sound like I hate you, I-I mean I actually think you’re amazing....ly talented! Oh Fuck! Let me start over! I’m Dynamite, but you already know that, but you can call me Bakugou. And I enjoy your work.”

Remember what they said about meet you heroes? EAT MY ASS FUCKERS! DYNAMITE IS A FAN!!!!

“He’s a huge fan! he watches everything you post!“ Deku chimed in with his teasing voice and smirk, which caused Bakugou to threaten Midoriya to shut up. You stepped aside to let the two pro heroes into your dressing room.

There the three of you talked. But it was mostly you and Bakugou talking. You find out that he’s been following you for a while and vice versa. You and Bakugou hit off so well, he invited you to lunch and you invited him to do a vid with him. 

It was like the more you talk, the more Bakugou grew to like you. He gave you his contact info because he wanted to keep in touch with you. He appreciated everything that you are, and would love to see more of you in person. Even offered to pay for you to come back soon.

The two of you started traveling to see one another, like him traveling to the states and you going to his country. It wasn’t long before you two started dating. You two doing vids together, and him recording you sing.

Lets just say the world couldn’t predict that you and Japan’s biggest Hero would be a huge Power Couple.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Past Hurt

This was a request from @faithie-brock-gillespie01 I hope you like it and its what you were looking for. I did change one thing around casue it just happened and it fit :)

Warnings: This does speak of an abusive boyfriend (as per the request) I tried to tread really lightly on the details of this type of relationship as I know this subject can be quite triggering for many (to my usual tag list, completely understand if you don’t read it) everything is under the cut so please keep scrolling if you think this will trigger you, I don’t want that 😘angst with a fluffy happy Nick ending.

WC: 1689

Enjoy x

Nick had noticed a change; you were quiet and what was a big red flag to him was how you were dressing and presenting yourself had changed. No light make-up anymore, your hair in a low lose pony tail and in the middle of summer you had been wearing turtle necks, shirts with longer sleeves and you were straight out the door as soon as your shift was over or he could see and feel your destress when you had to stay back for a case. He had asked you multiple times a day over the last couple of weeks if you were ok or if there was anything you wanted to talk about, but you shut him down every time.

The final straw for him to push you to talk was when you had gone into a convince store to question a witness about a house across the street you had gotten intel on, you hadn’t been focused since Liv had said you and Nick were going to do an overnight steak out the next night. He could feel the tension radiating off you during the questioning and half way through you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. When Nick finished the questioning, he went out and waited in the car. He pulled his sunglasses off his face when he saw you walking out, he frowned his brows as you walked towards the car, when some kids yelled at each other as they rode past on their bikes and you jumped, a tear rolling down your cheek.    

Nick couldn’t sleep that night thinking about how jumpy you were the rest of the day at the most normal things, like loud noise or loud voices in the bullpen, he wanted nothing more than to go to your apartment and pull you out, but he couldn’t, he didn’t know for sure what was going on, but he had seen enough to figure everything out.

You had stayed in the car when he walked down to the next block to get a coffee and a snack, back before you knew it. The car was silent for a long time, you both sipping on your coffee and eating your power bars, your phone buzzing over and over the only noise filling the car,

“You going to answer that?”

“Its not important” you muttered back taking a sip of your coffee.

“Must be if it keeps ringing”

“Nick, you need to drop it” you snapped

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“There is nothin-“

“Enough with the lie, Y/N”

“Nick, I’ am not lying”

“Who are you kidding? Yes, you are. You have changed, I have seen all the red flags, I know what’s going on”

“Nick, you don’t know everything. There is nothing”

“Y/N, stop it. You need to talk about it. You need to leave”

“I can handle it Nick”

“Well clearly you can’t. I’ am your partner Y/N and you don’t trust me?”

“I do trust you, if there was something to tell, you would be the first I would”

“How can we work together with you hiding things. You don’t trust me with anything, because if you did you would tell me now and not lie or brush it off” he raised his voice slightly.

He saw you freeze, your hands started to shake and your breathing got heavy. Nick’s heart broke and tears came to his eyes. He sat his coffee in the cup holder taking yours out of your shaking ones putting it into the other cup holder and he put an arm around your shoulders. You tensed into his touch and you felt his hand go to your cheek guiding your face to look at him,

“Y/N, I’ am sorry, I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s me sweetheart, I got you”

You started to sob and fell into Nick’s chest, covering your face with your hands. Nick wrapped his arms around you tightly, and he kissed your forehead.

“Oh Nick” you sniffed “How did I get into this mess?”

You sat back off him, his hands grabbed yours and you started to open up. Months and months of horrible situations that had happened to you by the hands of your boyfriend. You showed him photos in a private folder on your phone, doctors reports emailed to your work email, parts of your body that had been hurt and had told him the times you had been forced to do things you didn’t want to do so he didn’t get physical with you. Nick squeezed your hand, tears running down his cheeks listening to you,

“I need to handle this” Nick muttered.

“No Nick. You’re not losing your badge for me”

“If you won’t let me fix it, you need to tell Barba. He will charge him, for everything”

“Nick” you shook your head and your hand went to his cheek, he leaning into it “How many men have we built cases against, Rafael takes them to court, their lawyers tear the victim apart and they get let off. It’s he said, she said. I don’t want to go through that, I don’t think I could”

“But you have all the evidence. I won’t leave your side; you can’t let him get away with it”

It had been 3 weeks since the night you had told Nick everything, you were staying in his spare room after that night. You both went to Liv the next morning and you were in Rafael’s office that afternoon prepping for a trial after he was arrested and charges were filed. Nick, Fin, Sonny, Liv and Amanda going to your boyfriends apartment the following weekend getting all your cloths and most valuables, which wasn’t much, he making you sell most of your things before you moved in with him. You hadn’t slept the night before the trial, tossing and turning most of the night. Nick drove you to court that morning, Rafael waiting for you outside the court room,

“I want to sit you on the stand” Rafael grabbed your shoulder “I now this is going to be hard today, so I just want you to sit and focus. I’ll be there and won’t let anything happen to you”

You nodded back at Rafael giving him a little smile and the three of you walked in. You walked up to the stand, Nick coming to stand in front of where the jury sits and Rafael was organising his paper work on the table. Your eyes were scanning around the room that you had sat in so many times, when the doors to the right opened pulling your attention to them and your heart stopped. Your ex-boyfriend walked in with his lawyer and you gasped when you saw the anger flash across his face like you had so many times before when he set eyes on you.

He started yelling loud at you, horrible, hurtful things that you had heard before as he walked towards you. Rafael yelled for security stepping in front of him and Nick rushed over to you grabbing your hand, pulling you down off the stand and he put his arm around you as he guided you out of the room and to the car. After the incident Nick taking you back to the station, Rafael ended up recording your statement so you didn’t need to be there and Liv told Nick to take you home.

The case ended up going on longer then you had all thought it would, but finally after 6 weeks it was over with, your ex charged and Rafael requested the maximum. You finally felt like yourself again, living with Nick was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You were running with him when you got home, he was teaching you to box, you were going out again with the squad and most of all you were starting to smile and laugh.

You had both come home late after questioning a victim, showering and going straight to bed to be in court at 9am with the latest case in. You had drifted off to sleep quite quickly, not asleep for long when you were shocked awake after having a horrible dream.  You screamed for Nick, over and over till he came rushing into your room with a worried look on his face. Nick rushed over to the bed wrapping you in his arms and you cried into his bare chest,

“Y/N, darlin’ its ok. I’ am here” One of Nick’s hands came up to run through your hair and his other running up and down your back “It was bad dream. It’s over babe, I’ll never let anything happen to you again. You’re safe, I’ll always keep you safe”

It took you a while for you to relax into him, but when you did, you nuzzled into his body more, your head going into his neck and your arms around him. Nick held you till you had stopped crying, hearing his heart beat in his chest calming you,

“Thank you, for everything” you sat up off him and your eyes locked with his

“Of course, Y/N. You have no idea how hard it was to see someone you have feeling for go through what you did. But seeing you get through it the way you did, made me fall in love with you. You’re brave and strong and I’ am so proud of you” Nick’s hand went to the side of your head and he gave you a soft smile.

“I love you too” you blurted out “You make me feel so worthy of love, you make me feel like me”

“Baby, you have always been worthy of love. You are so amazing, please let me show you when you’re ready”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and lent over kissing him lightly on the lips. Nick let you take the lead, not deepening it but kissing you back gently.

“Your my rainbow after the storm. I love you Nick Amaro”

“I love you just as much mi amor”

 Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @ben-c-group-therapy @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt11 / on AO3

It is odd to exist in this little house and not have a purpose, Nie Huaisang decides a few weeks after being discarded. For three years his entire life has revolved around the emperor, his only wish being to distract him from his duties to make him happy. Now the emperor is miserable whenever he visits, and Nie Huaisang isn't allowed to do anything about that. Not when the emperor has made it very clear that he is now disgusted by the idea of any intimacy between them, and talking feels so awkward.

If he cannot kiss him, or please him in bed, if they cannot laugh or even talk, Nie Huaisang doesn't know what the point of everything is anymore. 

His days are emptier than ever. His nights no longer bring any comfort. Nie Huaisang is miserable.

Worse, Nie Huaisang is bored. A deep, insidious boredom that taints every moment he’s awake, that even pursues him in his dreams sometimes, or makes it impossible to sleep, denying him even that relief.

If he weren't so constantly bored, Nie Huaisang wouldn't have started checking those documents the emperor now brings with him when he visits. He’s perfectly aware that he shouldn’t do that all. It’s not his business, it’s politics, it’ll land him in trouble, but... 

But the emperor always falls asleep long before him, and always ends up in terrible positions in that stupid sofa, and half the time he forgets to use a blanket. Nie Huaisang has to make sure the emperor doesn't catch a cold. And then those documents are right there, and he's so bored. 

The books Lan Qiren sends him don't last as long as they used to, now that he doesn't have to stop reading them at night. They're also less interesting, at least those newest batches: treaties on how to analyse texts, or write essays. It's all so painfully boring that by comparison, official reports filled with numbers are pretty interesting. 

Nie Huaisang doesn't mean to read that stuff, it just happens. And the first time it happens, he stops as soon as he realises what he's doing. It's politics, and he's sworn to himself he'd never get involved in that. He scolds himself very hard that first time, and the second one too. Even the third time. But the fourth time… 

The fourth time is different.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang is pretty good with numbers. That's the reason why his father relented and finally recognised him. Nie Huaisang can't read the classics with ease because he’s still learning some of those less common characters. He values fun stories over respected ones, which isn’t what a real scholar could do. And he can't quite say what makes a good poem better than a bad one, he just likes them or he doesn’t. But he's quick at counting and has a natural knack for arithmetics. That's why his father put him in charge of organising banquets and overseeing finances, and he likes to think he saved them some good money in the time he held that duty.

So when he starts noticing discrepancies on those imperial reports, Nie Huaisang doesn't really think. He does what he would have done for his father, and writes down everything he notices. Because he doesn't quite understand what those reports are about, Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to guess why the numbers are wrong. He just knows that they are. So he leaves his notes on the table for the emperor to find when he wakes up, and hope that will be helpful.

He just so badly wants to be helpful. Maybe if he shows that he can still be useful, the emperor will start smiling at him again, or even talk to him.

Nie Huaisang just feels so lonely and bored. 

Later, when it is light again and he's alone in his little house, Nie Huaisang wonders if that was the right thing to do. Since nobody comes to drag him out of his cage to publicly whip him as an example to others, it can't have been wrong. But the emperor doesn't visit for a full three days after that, so maybe it wasn't right either. 

On the third day, the emperor's brother visits, and sheds some light on that long absence. 

"Brother has been given proof that the magistrate in the region of Yunping City was corrupt, and hindering the war effort," the prince explains, which might be the most Nie Huaisang ever heard him say at once. "Urgent measures had to be taken."

Nie Huaisang doesn't dare to ask, and stares at his glass of tea. That report he wrote notes on was definitely about Yunping City. It means he might have become involved in politics after all, against his will. As if he can afford to be making enemies, in his position. 

"Due to this situation, I will leave for Yunping City," the prince announces. "I will work with Lord Jiang to restore the situation. Consort Nie knows him?" 

"Only a little," Nie Huaisang meekly protests. "He is a friend of my father. This humble one knows his children a little, and his ward Wei Wuxian, but not that well." 

The prince nods, and takes a sip of tea. That should be the end of it. The prince never speaks much, and he’s just used more words than he usually does in an entire month. Surely he’s told Nie Huaisang everything he had to say on that matter.

Right?

"Jiang gongzi and Wei gongzi are to assist me," The prince explains, putting down his glass. "Will consort Nie tell me about them? I want to know what to expect." 

Nie Huaisang frowns at that request. 

"Surely there are many others in the palace who can tell you that? This one is only a humble servant's son, his knowledge is too imperfect to be useful." 

"Others can have their opinion," the prince retorts. "I wish to hear consort Nie's." 

A direct order from the imperial prince cannot be denied, least of all by a concubine fallen out of favour. Sick with worry at the prospect of being again dragged into politics, Nie Huaisang still does what he's told and gives as honest a portrait of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin as he can. He makes sure to point out their qualities, which are many, but also acknowledges their faults: Jiang Cheng's temper, Wei Wuxian's overconfidence, and the way they only really shine when they work together. 

It appears to please the prince, who thanks Nie Huaisang for his answers before taking his leave. He will write from Yunping City, he says, and might ask again for Nie Huaisang’s opinion in the future. 

"Please don't," Nie Huaisang begs. "This humble one is unworthy of such an honour." 

The prince doesn't reply, and Nie Huaisang is left alone to wonder if he's made another mistake. 

That night, the emperor visits again. He doesn't speak about those notes Nie Huaisang left him, though several times he stares at his concubine as if he were on the verge of saying something, only to change his mind at the last minute. His expression is so intense each time that Nie Huaisang ends up pretending to fall asleep just so the emperor will stop looking at him like that.

He takes notice of the fact that this time, the emperor brought a book with him, not reports. Nie Huaisang figures it's a message that his intervention, though perhaps useful, is resented. 

Nobody wants to owe anything to a mere concubine. 

After that one incident, life returns to normal. Or at least, as what passes for normal these days. 

Nie Huaisang is lonelier than ever. The emperor ignores him when he spends the night in the little house. The emperor's uncle, who was supposed to visit and find him a teacher, is too busy to do either due to having to take over some of the prince’s duties. And since that same prince is far away in Yunping City, even that last illusion of companionship has been torn away. 

Nie Huaisang is lonely. 

Nie Huaisang is miserable. 

So miserable, in fact, that he can't even rejoice when the aviary the emperor built for him is finally complete. Of course he puts on a smile when there is a banquet to celebrate this happy occasion, and plays perfectly his role of a cheerful concubine. He almost fools himself into feeling grateful and happy. Maybe he is happy, sitting again with the emperor, seeing him smile like this. It's easy to pretend, when Nie Huaisang so dearly misses how happy they used to be. 

But the next day, when he visits his aviary again, alone this time, Nie Huaisang only feels more depressed than ever. He wants to open every door to every cage, and let those expensive birds fly away. They all look as sad as he feels. But of course just like him, they probably wouldn't know how to survive outside a cage anymore.

If it were up to him, Nie Huaisang would never look at his aviary again. 

It isn't up to him. 

If he doesn't go, it will be noticed, he knows, just as it would be noticed if the emperor stopped coming to see him. If Nie Huaisang doesn’t check on his pretty new birds, people will say that the emperor spent a fortune spoiling a concubine who won't be satisfied with even the most expensive of presents. They will say the emperor is weak and foolish, or worse things even, and Nie Huaisang can't bear it. 

So he visits his birds daily. It is a punishment for fooling the emperor, for playing his father' s games. For being foolish enough to fall in love, when Meng Yao once warned him it is the one mistake a concubine should never make. At the time, Nie Huaisang hadn't understood. He does now. Being discarded would hurt so much less if he could only stop caring. 

But that's life now. Reading boring volumes selected by the emperor's uncle, spending time with birds he doesn't want, being ignored all night by the emperor himself. A new routine, much worse than the old one he used to have. 

A routine that finally shatters when one day, Nie Huaisang finds a stranger in his aviary, looking at his birds. 

Although there were many guests at the celebration to mark the completion of that aviary, the emperor made it clear that no one but Nie Huaisang, himself, and the servants attached to the aviary are allowed to come there. If the emperor were to have given permission to anyone else, he would surely have warned Nie Huaisang. And that boy's clothes are just good enough to make it clear that he cannot be a servant. 

He definitely is just a boy though, probably younger than Nie Huaisang by a few years. And yet there's a certain air to him, as if in spite of his youth, that boy knows more about life than some people much older than him. He just sounds so sad as he greets the talking birds. 

If that boy had been cheerful, or confident, Nie Huaisang could easily have chased him away. Happy people annoy him, when he has so little left to be joyful about. But seeing someone as depressed as himself makes his heart ache, reminding him how very lonely he is. 

Nie Huaisang watches that boy trying to chat with a pair of mynahs in a gentle voice that borders on hopeless, and comes to a decision.

"They're not very chatty," he says, startling the boy. "At least, not yet. I'm still working on teaching them to talk." 

The boy stares at him for a moment, then bows quickly and a little clumsily, betraying that he hasn't been trained for the imperial palace. Nie Huaisang remembers how he struggled as well when his father acknowledged him, when he came to the capital, and feels his heart swell again with sympathy. 

"Are you in charge of training them?" the boy hesitantly asks.

Since the emperor has made it clear that he no longer enjoys seeing Nie Huaisang covered in fineries, most of the time he dresses quite simply. It’s easier to put on, and it makes him feel a little less like a liar. He misses the fine silks and heavy gold sometimes, but plain clothes are more honest. Still, his clothes are only plain by comparison to the more extravagant outfits he used to wear for the emperor. Anyone glancing at him would take him for the privileged son of a great family… which he is, he supposes.

The point is, that boy must have already guessed that Nie Huaisang isn’t just one of the servants looking after the birds, so he doesn’t see any point in hiding.

"They're mine, actually," Nie Huaisang says, only to instantly regret it. 

The boy's eyes open wide, his face turning ashen before he falls to his knees and kowtow before Nie Huaisang, his entire body shaking with terror. 

"T-this humble one didn't realise! This humble one begs for your highness's mercy!"

Distressed by that strong reaction, Nie Huaisang takes a step back.

"I'm no highness."

"Your highness must be consort Nie!” the boy cries out. “This humble one never meant to intrude! This one knows no one is allowed here, but I really had to check, and… may his highness show mercy, though this one is undeserving!"

Nie Huaisang blinks. 

He knows, of course, that he's technically someone important. Servants are always very careful around him, and he has (had) the emperor's favour, which he could easily use to get his way, if he were so inclined. But since he lives in such isolation, and only leaves his little house for official occasions where everyone’s behaviour is strictly regimented by custom, it's rare for him to actually encounter anyone who might feel they owe him such open deference. 

He doesn't particularly enjoy it, he quickly decides.

"Please get up," he orders. "I'm guessing you came here by accident?" 

Refusing to stand up, the boy nods. 

"I was looking for my young master,” he explains in a pitiful voice. “I am a companion to a young lord called Ouyang Zizhen, and he escaped from me a little while ago when playing." 

The name Ouyang is familiar, but only vaguely. They might be related in some way to the emperor's late mother, though Nie Huaisang doesn't think the emperor is particularly close to them. Lord Ouyang is just closely related enough to be allowed to live inside the palace, but his son will likely not be allowed to remain there after his death. Anyway, the emperor rarely mentions them, and Nie Huaisang is pretty sure their son is a lot younger than this boy. 

Noble families like to bring in companions for their sons, as was done for the emperor, because they think it makes them look important.But sometimes what they really want is just a glorified nanny they don’t have to actually pay.

"What's your name?" Nie Huaisang asks. 

"This humble one is Mo Xuanyu." 

The name Mo doesn't ring a bell at all. They must be very minor in rank, or just rich merchants. Either way, people like that would take it as an honour to send one of their sons to the imperial palace, even if it’s just to serve an unimportant family. Being a young lord’s companion would give Mo Xuanyu the chance of a free education, at least if the family he’s serving treats him with any decency. They don’t always, as Nie Huaisang knows. The emperor complained about that sometimes, saying some families were very cruel to their sons’ companions.

But that was back when they would actually talk.

Nie Huaisang can’t remember when was the last time anyone talked to him.

He misses talking.

"Do you like birds, Mo Xuanyu ?" 

"Y-yes, your highness." 

"Me too. Do you know what species are here?" 

Puzzled by that question, Mo Xuanyu dares to look up as he shakes his head. Nie Huaisang grins, and kneels next to him, grabbing the boy's arm to force him back on his feet. It might be a mistake, but he’s been lonely so long, and Mo Xuanyu, in spite of his obvious fear, is actually talking to him.

Nie Huaisang wonders if that’s how the emperor felt that night, when he spoke to him with such insolence in the Unclean Realm. He quickly pushes the thought away. The situations are completely different, because Mo Xuanyu knows who he is.

"Do you want me to give you a tour?" Nie Huaisang asks.

After some hesitation, Mo Xuanyu shakes his head and bows away.

"I should really go find my master," he mumbles. "It's not that I don't want… I mean, this humble one would be honoured, those birds are all so pretty, and I really like… but I can’t, I have to…" 

"Duty calls, I understand,” Nie Huaisang replies. “But then, do you think you might come here again another day? I give you permission, so you won't get punished if you do. And then I can tell you more about the birds, if you’d like." 

Mo Xuanyu's expression is so funny as he eagerly nods, full of awe and wonder. Nie Huaisang almost laughs. 

He hasn’t wanted to laugh in so long.

He knows he probably shouldn't talk like this to a near stranger. He should be prudent, check the status of the Ouyang family, find out who the Mo are, and ask about Mo Xuanyu's reputation. But it has been so long since Nie Huaisang spoke to anyone, and he can't help the sense of kinship he gets when he looks at Mo Xuyanyu. They're the same, he can just tell: small and lonely, thrown into a world where they don't belong, forced to make the best of choices others made for them. 

But Mo Xuanyu shyly promises to visit the aviary again, and Nie Huaisang is happy. 

He hopes they can be friends.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 25 – Out of Time

Chapter 1     Chapter 24

Dick woke up to a far too early knocking, more like pounding, on his door.  He and Jim Gordon had been up half the night talking about the corruption in the police force and whether Dick should join, before deciding he could make a difference if he did.  He would be able to help Jim slowly weed out the corruption if he was working with him from the inside.  They’d even filled out all his applications for the Police Academy, starting in a month. He would have to be away from Marinette and the twins during the day, but he would be able to come home to them every night.  If she let him.  And she would know where he was.

But all that talk meant he had only gotten a few hours of sleep last night and he was dead tired this morning.  He really just wanted to go back to sleep, but the pounding on the door continued unabated.  He groaned and made his way to the door.  “Answer your damn phone, asshole,” Jason growled at him, pushing past him to look around the room.  “We’re fucking thrilled if you and Pixie got back together, but let us know you both aren’t dead.”

Dick shook his head and scrunched his face in confusion. “That we’re what?  I haven’t gotten to talk with Marinette yet.  I’m hoping that’s how it will go, but I think that’s probably overly optimistic.”

Jason’s expression turned in an instant from annoyed to scared.  It was not a look he was used to seeing on Jason’s face.  Jason never got scared, or if he did, he never showed it.  “Pixie is here, right?” he asked again, enunciating each word clearly.  “She’s with you.”

“No…  I just woke up.  I was talking with Commissioner Gordon all night.  Why would you think she was with me?” Dick shook his head again, trying to make sense of what he was saying.  Had Marinette planned on meeting him here?  Maybe she came back and fell asleep.  He ran to her bedroom to check, but the room was exactly as it had been for the past few weeks.  No sign of Marinette.  He returned to the living room and shook his head.

“Shit!”  Jason looked around desperately.

“Tell me what is going on right now.  Why did you think Marinette was with me?” Dick asked carefully.  His breathing became strained.  This isn’t the way this was supposed to go.  He had saved her.  He had stopped the Court of Owls.  He stopped their plot.  She was safe.

Jason pulled out his phone and called Tim, talking as he did, without bothering to acknowledge Tim when he answered and putting him on speaker as soon as he did.  “She’s missed all her appointments today.  Adrien said she said she was going to talk with you today.  She isn’t in Adrien’s apartment or Wayne Enterprises. Her phone is in her studio, but she isn’t,” Jason answered slowly, eyes darting around as if calculating something. “We figured she must be here.”

“We didn’t set the time yet.  I haven’t heard from her.  When was the last time someone saw her?” Dick asked frantically, running to his bedroom to start getting dressed.

“I’m going to start going through security footage around Adrien’s apartment and her studio,” Tim reported.

Jason’s phone started flashing with another call. “Patching Adrien into the call too,” he informed them and pushed a few buttons to enable it.  “Adrien, tell me you have something.”

Adrien’s voice hesitated for a moment.  Dick and Jason shared an apprehensive look.  “I have something, but it’s bad…  Someone told me you’d know how to get in contact with Batman?”

Jason froze and looked up at Dick with a panicked expression.  There was no way that was good.  “I think we might have a way to contact Batman, why?”

“I know where she is, but we’re going to need Batman and his team to get her back.”  There was barely a quiver to Adrien’s voice as he spoke, but years of training made it come across as clear as glass to the others on the call.

“Where is she?” Dick yelled into the phone.

“Dick?  They don’t have you?  That’s good… I guess.  It means they only wanted her… Actually, no, wait, maybe that’s worse,” Adrien prattled.

“Who is they?” Dick demanded.

“Some people with owl masks.”  There was a hedge in his voice as though he didn’t think they would believe him.

Dick stopped breathing.  The Court had taken Marinette.  No, no, no, no.  He had stopped them.  He had made sure Marinette was safe.  He had protected her from them.  That’s what the past few months of hell had all been about.

“You can get ahold of Batman, right?” Adrien asked again, in a more strained voice.  “I know someone who’d like to talk to him.”

Jason furrowed his brow and looked to Dick to see if he had any ideas.  “Who?”

“Chat Noir.”

Jason looked at Dick communicating their intentions and agreement through minute body quirks and purposeful looks.  “We can get ahold of someone.  We will make sure someone is on the top of the Wayne Enterprises building in half an hour.  Is that enough time for him?”

“He’ll be there,” Adrien confirmed confidently.

Jason cut Adrien’s connection and glared at the floor in thought.  “Why would they want Marinette?”

“The plot you stopped was all about the power grid, wasn’t it?” Tim interjected.  “Trying to run up prices for some of their members who owned supply and power companies?”

“Yeah…” Dick answered uncertainly.

“Then there was no reason for them to be at the Stone concert, right?  Those execs were from Netflix, no way associated with this,” Tim elaborated.

Dick drew in a deep breath and cursed.  “They were there watching Marinette.  They were planning this all along.  They wanted Marinette from the beginning.  Why?”

“Everyone go get suited up.  Get there as soon as possible.  I’ll text the others,” Jason stated, moving quickly toward the door so he could get to his apartment.

<><><><><> 

Batman, Red Robin, Signal, and Red Hood made it to the rooftop with time to spare, since they were already close to their costumes. Nightwing, Black Bat, Spoiler, and Robin had further to go to get to their costumes and had to trickle into the meeting, but they kept track of the conversation through the coms until they could be there in person.

“Chat Noir.” Batman stepped forward and nodded.

“Batman.  Bats and Birds.” Chat Noir nodded to Batman and the rest of the bats.  “I was thinking there would be more.”

“They’re on their way but listening in,” Batman assured him briskly.  “Let’s start with how do you know where she is?”

Chat looked over to the edge of the building at the sound of two sets of boots landing, he continued to speak as he silently acknowledged Nightwing and Robin.  “I’ve been keeping a close eye on Marinette since the pharmacy incident.  You might say I’ve had a catbug on her… with her permission of course.  She sent the scout to find me when she thought they were in her final location.  They didn’t seem interested in immediately harming her or the scout would have stayed.  We have time, I just don’t know how much.”

“Do you know how she was taken?” Batman asked.

Chat nodded, annoyance settling in his expression as he did. “A couple men dressed as cops approached her at her studio and said something happened to Dick, her boyfriend… kind of… it’s complicated.  She went with them.  By the time she figured out they were not headed to the hospital, there was a knife digging into her bump.”

“Any ideas on why they took Pi… her?” Red Hood broke in.

“They said something about a Grayson, so I have to imagine it’s to get at Dick Grayson, the babies’ father, for some reason or to get her twins perhaps for ransom.  I don’t suppose you have any ideas why they would want to get back at Dick, would you?  Is he a member?  Did he double cross them?” Chat mused.

“What?” Nightwing exclaimed.  “No!”

“Well…” Spoiler hedged as she and Black Bat landed.

“Dick Grayson didn’t do anything to them,” Nightwing gritted out.

Chat Noir studied Nightwing carefully then suddenly whipped his head over to Red Hood, running his eyes over him in a calculated manner and moving quickly to do the same to Red Robin.  “Fuck.  That’s why he said you guys would know how to get in contact with Batman.  That’s why you’ve been disappearing.” He stuck an accusatory finger in Nightwing’s direction.  “Why the fuck didn’t you just tell her that, you fucking dumbass!”

“See!  Even the catman agrees.” Red Hood exclaimed.

“She wasn’t supposed to get stressed and I didn’t want her knowing I was putting my life in danger every night, constantly,” Nightwing attempted to defend himself, but even to himself, his voice sounded unsure.

“She put up with me for years.  She is perhaps the world’s foremost expert in dealing with idiots who constantly put their lives in danger,” Chat exclaimed exasperated.  He had to have known that.  Marinette had talked to him about how frustrated she had gotten with Chat.  Hell, he was there for some of those conversations with Dick, while she glared at Chat the whole time.

“You think memories of that didn’t add stress?” Nightwing exploded, stalking slowly toward Chat as he spoke.  “She still has nightmares about it.  And pregnancy hormones make nightmares even more realistic. You weren’t there almost every night when she woke up crying because she saw you sacrificing yourself in new ways or when she dreamt it was me instead of you.  And the last one she had before our fight…  She sobbed almost nonstop for almost an hour.  I was terrified for her.”

“And you weren’t there when she was sobbing because you said you loved her then ran away like she didn’t matter,” Adrien returned just as angrily, standing his ground against Nightwing.  “Or when she broke down because she couldn’t trust you anymore. Because you spent months lying to her. Not because you had a secret. Secrets she understands, intimately. Because she trusted you and you lied and without an explanation, she had to assume you lied about everything.”

“I was protecting her from the Court of Owls,” Dick yelled.

“So that’s what the cult is called?  Bang up job, there.”  Chat growled back.  He moved away to collect his thoughts and deescalate the situation.  Fighting now wouldn’t help Marinette.  They needed to work together to rescue her.  Finally, he sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead like he was trying to ward off a migraine.  “She owes me a hundred euros for this.  So, what’s these guys’ deal?  Do they know who you are or are they asking for ransom?”

“We don’t think they know who he is, but ransom isn’t really their deal either,” Red Robin answered.

“Why would they want her otherwise?” Signal asked.

Chat opened his mouth a few times before cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brow and grimacing as if trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking.  “Could they know about… her association with the Paris heroes?”

“What exactly is her association with them?” Batman asked

Chat opened his mouth and closed it quickly.  “That sounds like a question for Marinette.”

“Well she isn’t fucking here is she?” Red Hood pointed out curtly.

“Close.  Very close,” he answered carefully.

“Clearly,” Spoiler huffed motioning to Chat.

“Closer than that.” He grimaced.  He was definitely skirting the line of flat out telling her secrets, but if it saved her babies, he was sure she would be okay with it. He just wasn’t sure yet if it actually related at all.  “But I don’t know how they could have found out.  She hasn’t been around any costumed heroes in years.”

“And they said this was about Grayson,” Robin pointed out.  “It is far more likely they know Grayson’s identity and this is punishment for stopping them.”

“If they’ve been tracking her since the concert, maybe earlier, it isn’t just about ruining their plans,” Red Robin clarified.

“They were doing what?” Chat’s head whipped around to look at him.

“I saw a talon at the Stone concert.  That’s why I disappeared.  I was investigating,” Nighwing explained distractedly.  “We can figure out the reason later.  Let’s focus on freeing her, making sure she’s okay.  You said you know where she is.  She’s probably terrified, and she doesn’t need more nightmares.”

“Yeah, she’s being held under here,” he pushed a few buttons on his baton and sent the location to the Bats.

“How did you do that?” Signal asked with amazement in his voice.

“Magic,” Chat answered, flaring out his fingers.  

“So what’s the plan?” Stephanie asked.

“Oracle do you have the building layout?” Batman asked into the coms.

“I’m having trouble getting in.  It looks like they have several layers of security and self-contained power.  It might take me a bit,” Oracle responded.

“We wait to see if we can get insight into the building then create the plan.  Our tech person is having difficulty getting in,” Batman stated so Chat could hear.

Chat nodded and teetered back and forth from his toes to his heels, anxiety ramping up in the silence.  “So, any tips or tricks I should know before fighting these guys, if that’s what’s happening?”

“The guys with glowing yellow eyes are highly trained. The rest will try to kill you, but they’re like drunken toddlers, it’s the yellow eyed bastards you have to watch out for,” Red Hood answered as he leaned against the half-wall running along the edge of the building.

“They’re not drunken toddlers.  They’re dangerous too,” Batman emphasized affronted.  He’d fought those guys in a group.  They had almost overpowered him.

“Okay fine,” Red Hood waved him off, “but not like the talons.”

“Any weaknesses for those yellow eyed talon guys?” Chat asked apprehensively.

“Not really.  They’re highly trained, highly skilled, superhuman speed, superhuman healing,’ Nightwing answered.

“Fuck,” Chat answered with a whistle.

“Appropriate response,” Red Robin nodded.

“They need a substance to keep healing,” Batman corrected.

“So if we injure enough of them they won’t have enough substance for everyone?” Chat offered.

“Not the route I want to go, but yeah,” Signal agreed.

“And cold.  They’re susceptible to cold,” Batman added.

“Cold?” Chat clarified, suddenly listening very intently.

“Yeah, it interferes with their healing,” Red Hood explained.  “Makes it so their injuries stick.”

“So if we could make it freezing cold down there…” Chat trailed off.

“Doesn’t have to be the whole place, just where the talons are,” Red Robin mused out loud.  “There likely won’t be many, if any.  They can’t be expecting us yet.  They were too careful.  If it wasn’t for Chat’s scout, we’d have no idea.  But yes, if you can make them cold, we’d have a better chance.”

Chat stopped and looked contemplative for a few moments. “Let me make a quick call.”  He turned around and walked a few steps away. After a few minutes he returned. “Snowflake will be here in 35 minutes.”

“The ice chick from New York?” Red Hood asked.

Chat nodded in response.  Damian eyed him suspiciously.  “That’s awfully quick.”

“She’s going to catch a ride with Uncanny Valley and Uncanny will be able to hack into their security as soon as she gets here.  She just has to be close.  We can get the plans from her and break into their security system.”

“How can she do that?  No offense to your friend, but if Oracle can’t do it, it’s unlikely anybody else would be able to so quickly,” Red Robin asked.

“Thank you,” Oracle cut in.

“Uhhh… magic?”  Chat offered with less enthusiasm than before.

“Let’s move to a closer position while we wait.  We’ll come up with a plan once we have more information,” Batman said already taking out his grappling hook.  “We have family to save.”

Chapter 26

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

09.

new beginnings are always the hardest part

Despite everything you said – being happy to see your two childhood friends finally acknowledging each other, coming to better terms with their relationship, you didn’t talk to the two for a week though, slightly pissed that they let their damn egos get the best of them.

Really, boys were stupid. So stupid. How stupid? Fucking stupid!

Yet, at the same time, you merely used it as an excuse to really re-evaluate your stance on things.

Honestly, it was nice to have them work through their feelings and finally see each other on equal footing, despite the fact that they had to use their goddamn fists and talk civilly- nope. Childhood friends with serious issues that were slathered by insecurities and bullying could only be mended by fists and screaming. Still, despite having the two finally coming to terms with each other, they still felt so far and out of reach. You had to wonder, where were you in all of that?

Exhaling through your nose, you rested your head against the mop handle, running your forehead through the wood to ground you. “Stupid,” you say to no one in particular. Well, maybe it was more to yourself.

Tiredly making your way through your home, sluggishly pulling the door open, you announced your presence, voice slurring. “I’m home.”

All you wanted to do was bury yourself in bed, take a short nap, or drown in bath- 

Something was off.

Immediately, your senses were on high.

First, you caught a familiar scent – two of them, actually. One smelled like sweat and body wash, the other was of burnt sugar. Then, there were the familiar gentle beats. Rushing towards your living room, you all but slammed the door wide open, yellow eyes opening just as wide.

Green and carmine eyes widened at your presence. Staring. You blink. They blinked. You blink again. Izuku raised a tentative hand, smiling weakly. Bakugou just stared with his hands in his pockets.

…

…

…

“OLD MAN! What are they doing here!?”

At your outburst, your grandfather comes running towards you whacking you in the head, hard.

The boys winced at that.

Your grandfather eyes you sternly. “Don’t be rude to our guests, foolish girl!”

The two guests just eye you – one worried, with his hands out, the other in awed concern, feeling the pain from the whack.

"You didn't answer my question," you growled, the back of your head still hurting. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING HERE!?"

"Simple: they came to visit."

"AND YOU JUST LET THEM!?"

"They were standing outside the house, it's rude to just leave them there."

"THEN YOU SHOULD'VE! THEY'RE NOT FUCKING STRAYS!"

"They're our guests, foolish girl."

"You should've left them out, then asked for my opinion!"

Beside you, the two boys shifted their eyes going back and forth at your heated exchange with your grandfather.

"Why should I? It's my house."

"Don't I get a say?"

"Do you want me to hit you again?" he raised a hand threateningly, causing you (and the two boys) to wince and take a step back, the back of your head still throbbing. "Ha, thought so." You gave him a sneer, he smirked smugly.

“I’m going to cook now, keep them company!” turning his back, he casually waves off at you three, walking to the kitchen. “Have them greet your parents.”

Sighing, taking a few calming breaths, you glared at the two boys, gesturing then with your head. Without a word, they were on their feet and followed after you.

It’s been a while since Bakugou’s ever been to your house. Izuku comes over a lot, has been over the years. He can't help but feel jealous of how close the two of you are, he felt so left out.

There was an altar by the corner of the living room, where he found you kneeling in front of, lips pressed tightly staring hard at the wooden cabinet long and hard. Eventually, you took hold of the doors and opened, expression softening as you saw the smiling photos of your deceased parents.

“Hi Ma, Pa, looked who came over to visit.”

Quickly getting to his knees behind you, Izuku gestured for Bakugou to do the same, hands pressed together in front of his chest. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s been a while!”

“A-Ah, yeah…” Bakugou says, awkwardly, you had to roll your eyes at that.

“These idiots finally got their act together,” you reported, almost smugly. “still, doesn’t change the fact that they’re the worst knuckleheads in this day and age.”

Some would think that it was a little odd to have your guests come and greet the dead, but this was quite the tradition in your home. Most of your family’s close friends were used to it, Izuku included.

Knowing this, Bakugou felt left out than ever.

For he remembered the day after that day, how his parents spoke in hushed tones when he came home after nearly dying by the hands of a sludge villain and saved by Deku – of all people, the solemn look in their faces after a quick inquiry on the bruise on his jaw, tears alarmingly threatening to spill from his mother’s eyes, his father’s careful expression – “(Name)-chan’s parents, they’re dead.”

It was all too surreal.

You missed out on school for a whole week, grieving. Classmates were murmuring amongst themselves at your absence, having heard of your little altercation and the death of your parents on the same day. Also, students fawned over him for the Sludge Incident, for managing to hold back the villain (when in actuality he was barely breathing had Deku not jumped in) which was honestly the last thing on his mind.

Deku, who was surprisingly left alone, would stare at your chair worriedly, thumbs quick to send a quick text in between classes. He had wanted to ask him about you but held himself back. Pride and guilt held him back. Also, it felt like it wasn’t his place anymore, neither was it his right.

During the funeral, he finally saw you dressed in an all-black kimono his heart clenching at the bags under your eyes, the redness surrounding it, your puffy tear-stained cheeks, the dullness in those once bright (e/c) eyes.

When they arrived, immediately both his parents gave you a big hug, you barely hugged them back, much to their concern. Auntie Inko gave you a hug, as well, when she and Deku arrived. As for him? He kept himself back, hidden, knowing how his presence would only make things worse. And yet, he still came because he was worried about you, so, so, so fucking worried.

You were barely there, receptive or alive. Bakugou hated it, it wasn’t you – you were never much of a crier, always wearing your heart on your sleeve and brimming with life. Now though, it looked as though you were half-alive. He couldn’t blame you really, he can’t imagine losing his parents, of having a part of you die.

While your grandfather attended to guests, receiving condolence money and sympathies, he ensured a distance was kept, knowing you needed time to mourn. Judging from the redness in your eyes, the blankness in your gaze, it would probably take a while.

Looking at you now, seeing the color back in your face, your eyes, the lively (if not, careful hostile) aura emanating off you sets him at ease. Well, almost.

He tried not to linger on the fact that he had a part in utterly destroying a part of you the same way he did Deku, but it bled through as the months went by. All he could do was stare at your parent’s faces, silently offering his heartfelt apologies for all those years he wasted.

"GRANDDAUGHTER! WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, BRING THEM TO THE DOJO!" A yell came from the kitchen, disrupting the peace.

His eyes fell to your form, shoulders slacking. He may not see your face, but he could tell there was a sour expression written all over your face.

Then you sighed, twisting in place to look at the two.

"How about it, boys? Wanna let off some steam?"

The dojo was adjoined to your house - a small traditional dojo that's about ages old, you're not sure but you know but it's been there forever - or so you're told.

A wide space greeted you, polished wooden floors and tatami mats on the ground, calligraphy of 'fortitude', and your family name done by your grandmother hung from the walls along with some ornaments and nondescript paintings that were as old as you (maybe) – everything was in place.

With your grandfather as the head of the family, duly seeing that he lived the family legacy and upheld tradition, he saw fit that the dojo was well-taken care for, that his students weren’t weaklings – family or not, and that the Yoruichi family lived up to its potential and filled with honor (this part, he drilled hard on you when you were younger). In addition, he was the current coach of your school's martial arts club and you were his star pupil, which spelled big favouritism, but nobody complained after sweeping the floor with them on the first day.

Growing up, this place was your safe haven, you could always find peace here, it also held so many good memories that smelled pleasantly of bamboo, faintly of wood, and the faint sounds of a wind chime resounding.

Unable to help yourself, you threw yourself to the ground sideways – an act catching the boys by surprise, Izuku to shrieked, and Bakugou to start - hands planted firmly on the ground, cartwheeling away before doing it again except doing it forward, then sideways, and then your body twisted in mid-air, before landing gracefully on your feet arms raised on both sides.

"(Nickname)!" Izuku called after you, causing you to giggle, especially because your hair was a complete mess now.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Patting your hands to the sides, the feel of your skirt made you realize why both boys seemed red in the face. Thankfully, you wore shorts underneath.

With Shinsou busy and final exams in the way, your sparring sessions had been put to a hold. You missed sparring, training – even if it were against Aizawa-san or your grandfather, you loved the thrill of fighting. It was in your blood, after all.

“Really, you shouldn’t be so reckless!” berates your green-haired friend, marching towards you, the blond following close behind.

Looking around, the blond teen took in his surroundings - the aged wooden beams overhead, the cubbies, your grandmother's calligraphy set neatly set in one of the fine cabinets, until his eyes stopped on some pictures. It was the three of you, during your younger days when your grandfather wanted to train all three of you.

Unaware of the way his eyes softened at the picture, he continually looked over and relived the memories – he could almost hear Deku’s crying as he tried to punch hard, him hollering in mad glee, and then you lording over the two because the dojo was ‘your turf’. Carmine eyes traced the smile on your 8-year old face, pulling away to find that you were wearing the same smile. Except, unlike the photo – where the smile was directed at him, Deku was crying in it – your smile was directed towards your green-haired friend who marvelled at the trophies you and some fellow students of the dojo won.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, but it was always there. He hated it.

As a child, since discovering his quirk, he’d been showered by praise and was the center of everyone’s attention. But for him, the only praise and attention he wanted was from you. However, because he was a shitty kid with an overgrown pride, you barely batted his way and spared him even an ounce of acknowledgment. Honestly, he’s been starved for your attention for so long now.

Only when you had shoved his kindness away in middle school did he realize how badly he’d hurt you, how little of an effort he did to truly reach out to you. He had a handful of ‘friends’, but not really, and you had Izuku – a friendship built on trust and love, he wanted that. But he was too selfish and prideful to do shit about it.

Before he knew it, Bakugou acted on his feelings.

“(Name),” you looked up, (e/c) eyes blinking in question. “let’s spar.”

“Ka-Kacchan-?”

“Sure.” You said with a shrug.

Green eyes blinked at you, then at the blond-haired teen, darting back and forth at the two of you. Were you really doing this now?

“W-Wait a minute! Are we really doing this now?” Izuku tried to reason, seeing at the two of you began to circle each other, him in the middle. “We should just talk, recall the good times! L-Like…Like…um…” the tension between you two, it was unpalpable, raw, and intense. “(N-Nickname)! Remember the first time you showed us a kick split and Kacchan tried to mimic?”

As funny as that memory was, his two friends were too busy circling each other, resembling animals in the wild. Their expressions were blank, but their eyes spoke too much.

(E/c) met carmine. Both unwavering, unyielding, and both hungry.

“(Nickname)? Kacchan? Are you listening to me?”

Readying into a stance, you closed your eyes as you took a deep inhale, opening them when exhaling slowly out your mouth. Bakugou’s fingers were tingling, smoke emitting.

“(Nickname), Kacchan, please there’s no need to-!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Bakugou was lunging forward, the explosion – which was half-powered, Izuku noticed – leaving a cloud of smoke behind that momentarily filled the area.

You didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the smoke, one arm quickly raised to guard against his fist, and the other readily grabbing hold of his knee that followed soon after. With all your might, you pushed him off. (In a fit of panic, Izuku cleared the smoke clouds away with a fling of his fingers at 2% power.)

Bakugou threw his fists, to which you easily deflected or swatted aside, keeping the blows away from you. Tossing his hand away, you planted your hands on the ground and swung your legs to hit him low, Bakugou quickly moved out of the way, rather clumsily. For a moment, he swore he saw you smirk, swinging your legs around with ease to swing at him again.

He had realized then that he had no idea how you fought; he was going into this blind. You both (three, counting Deku) may have trained together under the same dojo when you were younger, but that had been years ago! Plus, being a Yoruichi meant that you were proficient in other forms of martial arts. But again, emotions got the best of him. For some reason, despite being caught at a disadvantage, he found himself gleaming.

You were fast – much faster than he had anticipated, and extremely agile. He took note of the fact that your eyes were its usual (e/c) color, despite the fact that it was dark out. All the punches and hits received were all raw strength, honed from years of training under your grandfather. He always knew you were a capable fighter, despite having not used your quirk just yet. Fuck, were you mocking him?!

Seeing the frustration in his eyes, you smirked, grabbing hold of his incoming fist, catching him off guard, to toss him aside. So answer: yes, you were mocking him.

He had no idea how much you had studied his fighting style over the years, becoming familiar with his straightforward tactic – it was so predictable. And after seeing the Sports Festival and the fight with Izuku from yesterday, you easily caught up on how adaptable he was given the situation and had quick reflexes. It made you sick.

Yet at the same time, despite knowing this, both of you seemed rather in tune fighting each other.

Izuku, who had long given up trying to be the peacekeeper, could only watch in awe at the two. The mood between you two was…something, to say the least. And watching you two fight? It felt as though it were a dialogue if that even made sense – a mad disarray of Kacchan lashing out on you, you easily avoiding all his punches and explosion, you were able to catch Kacchan off-guard a lot whenever you changed fighting styles to which he’d manage to counter in his own reckless way. It was a nail biter to watch, yet it was fascinating at the same time. The two of you were in perfect synchronization with each other.

A cloud of smoke filled the air, your eyes narrowed to see through just as a palm cut through, nearly punching your cheek clean. Ducking a swipe of Bakugou's smoking fists, you took hold of his wrists and twisted them inward, Bakugou barely had time to react and the explosions went off his skin.

Angered, he used your closeness in an attempt to headbutt you, but you easily evaded, losing balance in the process. Seeing this, he grabbed hold of your hand, tugging hard to twirl against him, back to his chest. Instantly, he caught hold of your other hand. The position looked as though you were dancing, it was rather intimate.

"What's the matter? Not gonna use your quirk on me?" he taunted in your ear, making you shiver.

"As a matter of fact," throwing your head forward and back, smacking your hair to his face, he releases you - just barely - but it was enough to free you, sweeping him off his feet to pin him to the ground – an elbow to his back and one arm stretched out painfully behind him. "I don't need my quirk to beat you. I'm plenty strong on my own." Releasing your hold, you tilt your head to the side, unable to help the smug look on your face, faint lines of yellow lining your eyes. "Not bad for one 'seemingly quirkless', huh?"

Quirkless. Something in him roiled, especially with the way you said it.

Pushing himself off, making you lose balance, he grabbed hold of your collar and nearly slammed you to the ground, switching positions. “What the fuck is your problem?”

(E/c) eyes gave him a cold hard stare, the corner of your lip slightly twitching. It made his tenuous temper flare.

Tightening his hold, he asked again. “What is your fucking problem?!”

“My fucking problem is you!”

Okay, that threw him off.

Bakugou pulls back, blinking at your response, completely dumbfounded “I thought you were ‘working on being a better friend’? Was that all for show?” His voice was soft, hoarse. It hurt that after all this time, he was still a stranger to you. Yet at the same time, he's rather confused with how lightly you've been handling this.

Unable to look at him any longer, you look away. Those carmine eyes were full of hurt; you didn't like it.

"Let go of me," you tell him, his hand had slackened, allowing you to push him off. And he lets you, feeling defeated as he watches you pick yourself up.

His eyes turn to Deku for help, assurance, assistance, never would he have thought that he'd come to Deku - of all people - for such. Deku just stared, weakly at you, then at him – at a loss.

Before you could walk away, Bakugou grabbed your arm, his grip hard. "No, you're not walking away that easy, (Name)."

Your name sounds so foreign when he says it, you gulp, refusing to look his way. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

He glowers, tugging you back to face him, staring you down. "What I want is for you to stop being so fucking difficult and talk to me!"

You couldn't help scoffing, harshly tugging your arm free. "You? Talk? Wow."

Bakugou had always known you were a petty person, but to be this difficult at the same time? It was really grating his nerves.

"(Nickname)..." Izuku berates in the background, which was silenced by Bakugou.

"CAN YOU FOR ONCE JUST LISTEN TO ME!?"

"K-Kacchan..."

"WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS THEN?"

“I’M FUCKING TRYING TO BE CIVIL, BUT YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING DIFFICULT!”

“YOU? CIVIL? IF THAT ISN’T THE JOKE OF THE CENTURY!”

(Somewhere in the kitchen, Shihan casually cooks dinner, knowingly oblivious to the explosion, yelling, screaming, going on in his beloved dojo. Casually checks the spice intake on one of his dishes, adding a bit more.)

Bakugou opens his mouth, about to berate on one of your bullshit of an excuse to give him the time to speak only to stop. He realized how much you’d instigate and rile him up, and how much he’d fall for it. This was never-ending, the ceaseless anger between you two, it had to stop. “Why won’t you give me the chance, (Name)?” his voice was brittle, so brittle and soft, from yelling and of hurt.

Vulnerability was something you never expected of him, but you were too proud to even recognize it from him of all people. “Your life is fucking perfect, why the hell do you want to make a mess outta mine!?”

“Perfec- “he nearly spat out the word, hating it. “you think my life is perfect?”

Rolling your eyes, hard, Bakugou swore it was enough to see the insides of your head. “Come on, do I need to list it down? You and your perfect family, your perfect little cozy home, your perfect academic performance, your perfect quirk,” that part just had to be overly emphasized, dramatized, much to his disgust “life just hands you everything perfectly in a neat little bow-“

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!” he angrily yells.

That made you stop. Izuku, too.

And after a few seconds of saying it, as did Bakugou. "Fuck," he muttered, ducking his head, to hide his reddening face, he was reeling at his confession – pent up after being so long overdue.

“…what…?”

Izuku’s hands slapped over his mouth, a small noise coming threatening to come out as he watched the two of you in keen interest. “…K-Kacchan…(N-Nickname)…”

(Now would probably be the worst time to gush, squeal, or scream over this, as though he were watching a rom-com movie, but he couldn’t help it! Izuku had always been the biggest supporter of you two, wanting you both to end up together since you were children.)

After all this time, he liked you, too?

When he looked up, he was surprised to see how red you were – you were, like him, blushing hard. Like that one time you visited to give your ochugen gifts.

Wait.

“Wait.”

“I’m outta here!”

The door slammed shut behind you.

Dinner was an awkward occasion, an extremely awkward one especially because your grandfather had Bakugou sit right next to you. 

Your grandfather, painfully knowing that he is, acted oblivious to the tension and casually chatted up the boys - Izuku mostly doing the talking, whilst Bakugou mumbled here and there, you kept your head low avoiding the gaze of anyone in the table.

Just after dinner, you made a beeline for your room, uncaring for your grandfather's wrath - you could deal with that later, you just wanted a moment to yourself after Bakugou's confession.

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!”

Fuck.

His words rang in your ear, all the blood rushing the instant his voice rang in your head.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," you wailed into your pillow.

With special permission from Aizawa-san, and Izuku's insistency, you found yourself at the prestigious UA once again in time for its culture festival.

To say the place was huge would be an understatement, and that’s saying because you’ve been here a lot whenever Izuku was injured, more than just three USJs, it felt like its own continent! This time though, it was colorful and vibrant than usual.

The school went all out, I see. You thought to yourself, after all the bad shit that happened to them.

You still held Izuku with careful regard, it was always easy to forgive him, but appreciated the gesture that he extended his invitation to you. He wanted you to be there, to experience the joy of a high school culture festival even if you two weren’t school mates anymore. (Also, it was his way of saying sorry.) All things considered; things immediately went back to normal between you two.

(Save for one)

Meeting up with your best friend at the front gate, you were surprised to find him covered in dirt and grass. But before you could even ask, he hurriedly brought you backstage to meet up with his classmates before the show started.

“Everyone this is my childhood friend, Yoruichi (Name)!”

Giggling at his stutter, you shouldered him playfully before bowing at his classmates. “Hi everyone! It’s nice to meet the lot of you!”

A series of ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ came afterwards, soon after, the two of you were bombarded with questions. Tiredly, you turn to your best friend, sharing a look. Man, I miss the days when we were invincible.

“Ah, it was that girl who yelled at him at the hospital!” a tall plain-looking guy pointed at you, to which Iida yelled that it was rude to point. You could only offer an apologetic smile, nudging at your best friend’s shoulder again.

“Eh? I didn’t know Midoriya had another childhood friend!” some guy with flaming red hair and shark teeth said, kindly and in shock.

“More than that, Midoriya’s been keeping this beauty from us!” a small purple-haired boy screeched, angrily turning to your best friend. On instinct, you stepped in front of your friend protectively.

“Wow, I’m offended you don’t talk much about me, Izuku.” You teased, elbowing the green-haired teen. He laughed, scratching his cheek.

“This is so radical, a female childhood friend. Must be nice~” a boy, with a streak of black over his hair that could only remind you of Pikachu, gushed. “But wait, haven’t I seen you at that one café- “

“Dunce face, shut your mouth.” Bakugou suddenly appeared in your line of sight, you immediately turned away before he met your gaze, fighting the blush creeping its way to your cheeks.

“Ne, ne, ne,” a pink-skinned and pink-haired girl gushed, nearly shoving her face into yours. “So, like, is Midoriya your boyfriend?”

In unison, you two stared at each other before bursting into laughter, used to the question for so many years.

“No way,” Izuku says, trying to calm down. “(Nickname)’s like a sister to me!”

“I second that! Izuku’s such a whiny big brother with a big brain.”

“(Nickname), you didn’t have to put it like that…”

Grinning toothily, you playfully ruffled his curly locks, discreetly eyeing a brunette who seemed to sigh in relief.

“Wait a minute, since Yoruichi’s your childhood friend, does that mean that Bakugou’s your childhood friend, too?” a short-haired punk-looking girl asked, a few heads turning to the blond. Said blond stilled, expression a careful blank.

“Yeah, he is.” The reply came easy, nonchalantly. Playfully. “Is. Was. Somewhere in between.” You wiggled your hand in the air for emphasis.

It was a cold response, almost as cold as Todoroki’s ice.

“But that’s enough about me, I heard you guys were putting on a live performance?” the mood easily shifted, two kinds of excitement stirring from the class. “And Izuku, you’re dancing? Since when!?”

“Sadly, we kicked him out.” The pink-haired girl says, arms crossed.

“Deku-kun worked his best!” Ochako defended, cheeks puffing.

“That’s right! That’s right!”

“Ah, Midoriya-chan looks mad?”

“More than that, he’s blushing too.”

Several eyes turned to the green-haired teen, cheeks puffed and an angry flush dusting his cheeks, glaring your way.

“I-I mean, dancing sounds fun. Plus, I’ll have you know that we’ve danced together before, (Nickname)!”

(e/c) eyes narrowed playfully, finger poking at freckled cheeks. “Dance Revolution, Just Dance, and Dance Master don’t count, dumdum. Plus, you suck at those!”

“She’s so brutal!”

“Almost like a female Bakugou.”

“Uwa, it’s kinda rare to see Midoriya like this. He seems more comfortable and less grounded.”

“I see what you’re saying! And he usually shies away from girls!”

“Yoruichi’s got spunk, doesn’t she?”

“Oi, we got to prepare! Come on, now!”

Realizing this, you stepped away from Izuku, wishing him luck. He had told you that he wanted you to meet someone after the show, you could only nod at that.

Meeting carmine eyes, you faltered, body shifting to move, but stopped. Braving a look his way – much to his shock, you offered a small smile. “Break a leg.”

Their show was amazing, spectacular, a showstopper, and you made sure to relay your praises to the class afterwards.

Shortly after the show (and sharing your thoughts about their presentation), you were introduced to Eri, the sweet little girl Izuku told you about during his work-study. The moment you saw her, she immediately won your heart. Oh, and you were introduced to Mirio, a goofy senior who was super friendly and an amazing presence to behold.

Without even knowing, you somehow wounded up with the rest of 1-A joining whatever sorts of fun the cultural festival has to offer. Most of the time, you stuck close with Eri, who'd grown fond of you after your first meeting, sometimes, sticking with the girls (even though your nose would crinkle at girlish topics), or even hung with Bakugou's ragtag of friends (of which, you were surprised to find that he had a clique of his own!).

It was a rather eventful day, and your legs were all tired out from constantly moving around. Still, it was a fun day. Sitting against a railing, you watched as Izuku ran off towards the gate, a paper bag in hand. Smiling at his retreating frame, you leaned back and watched around, eyeing the festivities - or what's left of it, feeling suddenly lonely about it all. This was where Izuku and Bakugou went to school, this was their cultural festival, and you were just an outsider.

“Here,” you blinked as a churro appeared out of nowhere, offered to you. Retracting your hands from your sides, you carefully took the treat in your hands and looked up, meeting carmine - Bakugou.

“Thanks,” you reply, dumbly.

Sitting next to you, Bakugou was strangely quiet, hands buried in his pocket. “What did you think of our performance?” he asked, rather quietly.

“Pretty kickass,” you say honestly, still staring at your treat. "I forgot how well you could play the drums."

The corners of his mouth twitched, but his expression remained a careful, almost wistful blank. His eyes though, they were another story. “I’m glad you came, (Name).”

Scoffing, a smile found its way to your lips, you bump his shoulder with yours. Surprised, he looks up, eyes finding yours, (e/c) warm. “Yeah, me too.”

Something inside him stirs, strangely, comfortingly. He could feel his throat drying just looking at you, just as you bit on your churro - a big crunch, followed by sugar falling off.

“You should consider transferring.”

“Pass, I’ll just take the supplementary lessons Aizawa-san offers.”

"Like they'll do you good."

"Hm,” you swallow, using the back of your hand to wipe the cinnamon sugar off your mouth. “lest you forget I have my shitty old man, and he teaches me plenty."

He mulls at your words as you chew on your churro, enjoying the youthful vibe of the cultural festival. Truth be told, being here actually made you jealous. You never enjoyed the cultural festival at your middle school because everyone did such a mediocre job and could care less about having fun. But this? This was nice. Relaxing, fun even.

"What happened to you?"

Stopping midchew, you let the words sink in - word by word, before finishing the last piece of your churro. Mulling over his question, you leaned your head back to watch the cotton candy-colored skies. "I gave up." You said simply, decidedly, honestly. "You seem to disregard people who care about you."

He swallowed thickly at your words. There were a million things he wanted to say while you were right there, no animosity between the both of you for once, however, he found himself choked up. All the words, questions, they held up in his throat. It felt pretty fucking lame of him.

However, if anything, there was one thing he's been meaning to say to you for a very long time. "(Name)," he starts, he liked the way your name comes out of his mouth, always liked how it's comparably lighter to say compared to a million words that made up language.  "I'm sorry."

Startled, you turned to him, really stare at him. Two words, yet they carried so much weight. So much history addressed. So many years of fighting, crying, yelling, and stubbornness. All it took were just two words.

Surrendering, you leaned against his form - feeling his body flinch at the contact, but doesn't move away, eyes falling shut. "I'm sorry, too."

That made him scoff, offended at your apology. "Shut up," As far as history has shown, you have nothing to apologize for.

"No, really listen." you continue, eyes dropping to your fingers. "I'm much to blame for our history. I've been so incredibly petty, cynical even whenever it came to you. Izuku was always so forgiving and he'd try to pass it on to me, but I just tossed it aside, never realizing that in the process I was hurting both of my dearest friends. By neglecting Izuku's wishes, I was neglecting you in the process. I was so selfish."

"I've been selfish, too."

"I know."

"And prideful."

"Oh, I know."

The makings of a smile creep its way to his lips. "And shitty."

You snort. "Oh, believe me, I know." Unknowingly, you laughed easily.

Bakugou watches as you laugh - eyes crinkling, cheeks brightened (with a few specks of cinnamon sugar sticking), your teeth were exposing, a light-hearted laugh escaping your mouth, you looked so pretty like that. He rather liked hearing your laugh.

Finding his elbow, you wrapped your arm around his, leaning ever so closer. Bakugou might've jumped at that, but you couldn't tell, too contented at that moment. "I missed you, fucker."

At your admission, he felt his chest stilling, calming. Before realizing it, the expression on his face lightened, softened, carmine eyes taking in your form against it – had you seen it, it would have done you over.

It was the softest expression he could ever muster.

"I missed you, too-"

"Oi, Bakugou!"

"There you are! We've been looking all over for-"

Kaminari and Kirishima both stopped at the sight of two teens, relishing in each other's presence - quite comfortably, too - which was ruined by their arrival.

Curious, you peeked a look at the two teens.

And then there was Bakugou, who was absolutely furious.

masterlist • ten

[maybe-your-left]

Window Panes - Forever

We made it! 

Here is the Window Panes Masterlist and my Masterlist for all my other fics. 

Summary: A cool breeze nipped at your exposed legs, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. You were curled into your comforter, comfy and safe, your cheek pressed against your pillow. Lips pursed and a small amount of drool seeping into the fabric. A creak came from the corner of your room, slightly rousing you from your slumber. You glanced around, your drooping eyelids barely taking in the scene. In your sleep riddled state, you didn't see him, his large figure stalking towards you. The whites of his eyes shining in the moonlight, it wasn't until you felt a palm slide up your side. Following the natural contours of your body, the warmth emanating from it lulling you to sleep once again. A dip in the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight. 

Hot breath fanned over your neck, soft lips pressing onto the back of your ear. A deep hum filling your senses, you sighed. Cuddling back into the figure, wanting to get closer to the warm entity. A low chuckle sounded behind you, and then... 

Nothing. 

TW/CW: This is dark shit, like explicitly horrible shit happens in this. However, I enjoy reading dark fics, and I super loved Stalker Clyde by @clumsycopy​ & was inspired by the oneshot EOS by @thetorturerwrites and I wanted to write something with the sameish tone for Halloween. NSFW, Violence, Murder, Non-con elements, Domestic Violence, Surgery, Explicit sex, oral sex, anal sex, sex toys, miscarriage, mental manipulation, stockholm syndrome, waterboarding, forced feeding, Animal abuse (just a brief mention, I do not go into any detail). 

“Is it-Are we rolling?” 

“Yeah, we’re rolling.” 

“Okay, great,” a sigh of relief. 

You shifted in your chair, smoothing back your hair and itching the microphone that was attached to your shirt collar. Crossing and recrossing your legs, you should’ve worn pants, a skirt was a stupid idea with these boots. You gave a weak smile to the woman across from you, her white teeth flashing the cameras all around the sound stage. 

“Okay,” she looked into the lens, “We are here tonight with one of the victims of the famous 2020 murder trial from New York. She went through over five years of repeated abuse at the hands of her kidnapper, all while he was out killing people around the city.” She turned to you, nodding her head as a show for you to react to the TV. “It’s so nice to have you here, Miss (Y/N).” 

You cleared your throat, shifting once more, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” 

“How are you doing?” 

You bit back a scoff, what a stupid thing to ask. After that introduction, what was she expecting you to say, ‘oh I’m fucking fantastic, I’ve been running since the day he was sent to prison and going through intense psycho-therapy to rid myself of Stockholm syndrome.’. 

“I’m great,” you faked a smile, “Always nice to visit New York again.” 

“I’m sure,” she smiled once more, all you could think about were the wrinkles on her face, the crows feet on the corner of her eyes. She must get botox for working at a news station, there’s no way her skin is on with just natural confidence. 

“When was the last time you visited?” 

You had to stop yourself from blurting out an answer, knowing that this would be on national television. Which you knew federal prisons watched, you wouldn’t want to give away any of your whereabouts since the incident. “Uh-it’s been a few years, I haven’t had much reason to be back. My life has shifted to another part of the world.” 

“That’s fantastic! So you’ve been doing well for yourself the past six years?” 

“Yeah,” you gave a genuine smile, “It’s been tough, no off days really. Trying to gain some normalcy from it all, but I’ve done well. I live relatively fearless, of everything.” 

“We have you here because of a break in your case, as I’m sure you know.” 

You gave a grim nod. 

It’s all anyone wanted to talk about since the story flashed on the news last week. Leaving your once quiet home filled with reporters. You weren’t even home when it happened, out getting groceries, gripping your sons’ hands firmly as you walked the aisles. Letting him pick out some snacks for his lunchbox, like any mother would, when your phone blew up. 

Dozens of messages, calls, articles, you name it. 

All with his face plastered on it. 

Convicted murderer and kidnapper, Kylo Ren, has requested the death penalty. After being found attempting to escape federal prison for the 6th time in the past five years. The convict claims that he ‘would rather die than live another day rotting in his cell’. Dropping all the appeals cases that his lawyers have been pushing since his initial sentencing. 

The former New York state governor was on trial for murderering and disemboweling 9 separate victims and kidnapping an 18-year-old girl. He kept her in his basement as his sex slave for close to 3 years before he married her, the young girl escaping into the streets when she was just 22 years old. Covered from head to toe in gashes, blood, and bruises. Claiming that her husband had beaten her within an inch of her life. 

The subsequent trial lasted three months after his arrest. Leading to him being convicted of first-degree murder, rape, and domestic assault. He was sentenced to life in prison, his then-wife was placed under medical care for an undetermined time. 

Mr. Ren has tried to get his charges appealed since the initial sentencing, claiming that his wife was mentally insane and an unfit witness. Along with other claims that include bribing members of the jury to change their verdicts. The whereabouts of Mr. Ren’s ex-wife is unknown, but he claims that he has kept tabs on her even from ‘the inside’. 

“Your kidnapper is being put on death row, which isn’t allowed in the state of New York. Which means he is being transferred over state lines to another prison. However, it hasn’t been revealed where he is being brought because of people interfering with the swap. How do you feel about that?” 

You chewed your cheek, thinking for a moment. There was no way he did this willingly, Ren was never someone to take the easy way out. The last time you heard from him was three years ago, on your son’s birthday. 

Receiving a call from the prison, the only one you had gotten since the sentencing. 

You remember picking up the phone, throat going dry as you whispered that you accepted the charges. Waiting for the operator to connect you to him, after three long years without his voice. 

“Hello, love.” 

“What,” you whispered, stepping away from the living room of screaming toddlers. Your boyfriend gave you a weird look when your face went white as a ghost. “What do you want, Ren?” 

“How are you? Doing well I hope?” 

You huffed, moving into your kitchen and ripping a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Taking a drink as you snarled, “Just tell me what shitty thing you have to say so I can go back to my family.” 

“Oh, yes. Your family.” he sighed, “And what a sweet family it is… little Luke is how old now? I would think he would be about… three.” 

“How do you know about my son?” 

“Hm.” 

“I don’t think he’s just yours.” 

“You shut your mouth, Luke is not your son. I’m going to hang up if you don’t get to the point.” 

“He’s growing up so well. Hairs getting longer, but I know you like to keep it short. But he complained about his ears last time-so big.” 

You took a deep breath, peaking into the living room. Just in time to see your baby boy, smiling and laughing with his friends. Sitting in your boyfriends’ lap, tearing into presents. His big eyes shone with tears of joy when he ripped through a gift that was his favorite color, red. A squeal so loud it could’ve shattered a window, pulling out a giant plush toy. It was like a penguin-mixed with a little dog, no nose, and some sharp fangs. From one of his favorite TV shows, along with a card and some other little toys. 

“Tell me, love,” he chuckled, “Does he like his present? He sounds over the moon about it through the speaker. What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my fingers through his dark hair, look him in the eyes and tell him how much his father loves him.” 

You made Luke sleep in bed with you that night, holding his small body flush with yours. Running your fingers through his curls as he snored into your chest, small tracks of drool seeping into your nightshirt. Trembling as you stared at the shadows, dancing across the bedroom from the window. Full moon shining, you could’ve sworn the floor was creaking downstairs, the sound of footsteps climbing towards your room rang in your ears. 

You didn’t sleep that night, staring into your son’s face as he woke. Blinking awake to smile as you, his grin reaching across his face. All the way to his ears, large ears, covered by his almost black waves. His long lashes fluttering as he greeted you, “Hi mama.” 

His eyes. 

Fuck. 

One of them your eye color, shining back at you. But the other, it was his. 

Deep auburn, shining in the sunlight. Daring you to challenge him, defy him, prove him wrong, anything that would allow him to unleash whatever hell lived under his skin. Flowed through his blood, tainting every corner of your psyche. His child, the one you hid from the world. Moving as far away as you could, claiming it was your boyfriends’ child. 

But he knew. 

And Luke was starting to notice. 

“I feel,” you looked at your hands, forcing them into fists to stop them from shaking, “Just fine, he’s not in my life anymore. Just a small chapter in the book of my story, I hope that he finds peace. Wherever he goes.” 

“Peace? For a man that almost killed you multiple times?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I do. I can’t change who he is, or what he’s done. I can just try as hard as I can to move on. And if being on death row will help him find what he’s looking for then I wish him the best of luck.” 

She gave you a weird look, shifting in her seat, “Do you think it says anything about his guilt?” 

“Guilt?” 

“Yes, for the past six years he has never acknowledged that he was guilty. Claiming that the jury and witnesses were bought and that you were mentally unstable-making up half the accusations against him. Do you think that him asking for the death penalty is a way of admitting that he was guilty?” 

“Hell no,” you blurted out, eyes going wide at the camera, “Oh-can I swear? I’m so sorry.” 

She laughed you off, “You’re fine, we can blur it out. But you sound so confident? Do you think he believes that he’s done nothing wrong?” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, “Not to repeat myself but, hell no. That man knows, he’s very conscious of his decisions. Everything has a purpose, everything is done for a reason, Ren doesn’t waste his energy on doing something for no benefit.” 

“What would be the benefit of being put on death row?” 

You sighed, thinking about Ren, trying to get into his mindset to see how he could angle the sentencing changing. Letting out a sharp laugh as you rubbed your eyes, “Well-you said it earlier.” 

She looked at you confused. 

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.” 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, looking around the room frantically. “Oh my god-oh my god-oh my GOD-New York doesn’t have the death penalty!” you screamed, shooting out of the chair. Grasping the reporter by her shoulders and shaking her violently, “He knew! He knew I was coming here! He’s gonna take him!” 

“Miss (Y/N),” the reporters and security officers yelled. Trying to calm you down, but no, she had said it. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

You ran from the TV station, hailing a cab on the packed streets. Frantically calling your boyfriend over and over, he was at home. Back in Nevada… where the death penalty is legal, with Luke. He wouldn’t pick up, the dial tone ringing three times before his voice sang through the speaker. 

You wailed in the back of the cab, calling everyone you knew back at home. Asking if they could go get Luke from school, if they had seen him that day. Anything to try prove false the sick feeling in your stomach you knew was true. 

Running through airport security as fast as you could, taking the first flight back home. You prayed on the way that your boyfriend had Luke, safe and sound, back at home. Hopefully, curled in his red blanket, snuggling the stuffed animal he got that faithful birthday. 

Even though no one knew where it came from. 

Luke wouldn’t let you get rid of it. 

Claiming his daddy gave it to him. 

You just let him have it, he was three there was no way he would let you take his toy away once he had held it to his chest. Kissing it with his full lips, dragging it around the house every fucking day. It was his best friend, from the moment he saw it. 

You cried on the plane, realizing too late that the gift was from him. 

His real father. 

Watching after his miracle child. 

When you touched down in Las Vegas, your phone blew up. Your stomach flipping as you read through the messages from your boyfriend, explaining that he let your friend pick Luke up from school. The same friend claimed that your boyfriend had picked him up, Luke’s teacher calling to let you know someone in a black Porsche picked him up. 

Whisking away his child from under your nose. 

You choked on your tears as you read the message from his teacher, telling you how happy Luke was when he left. How he ran into your new boyfriend's arms, like he had known him for his entire life. She told you that he had introduced himself, Ben was just the most amazing father figure she had ever met. Stowing away Luke, surrounded by toys and chocolate when she waved them off. 

After you gathered your luggage you walked towards the cabs out front. Stopping cold in your tracks when you saw a chauffeur holding a sign that said your old name. 

Mrs. Ren. 

You climbed in, body feeling numb. 

Your phone dinged, a picture being sent to you from an unknown number. 

A picture of Luke, held tightly against his real father’s chest. Drifting off to sleep in his strong arms that once choked you to death. 

See you at home love, we miss you. 

-----

I wanted baby luke to say something like ‘my daddy visits me at night’ but it was too on the nose. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @millenialcatlady @ohdamnadamm  @daydreamsofren @candycanes19 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @millenialcatlady @safarigirlsp  @caillea @roanniom @insufferablelust @mrs-zimmerman​ 

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 31

masterlist

Hello my darlings! We are winding down. This is the second to last before we’re done, not including the epilogue. I’m honestly so sad for this to be almost done, but so excited to start on Something Wicked. Enjoy, my loves!!--- chaotic puff

To say that the atmosphere around the estate was frosty the next day would have been an understatement. It was positively glacial. She wouldn’t even look at him, and Namjoon knew rather immediately that he had fucked up.

“Jagi.” He tried gently taking her arm to turn her to look at him only to be met with a solid slap across the cheek with enough force behind it to turn his head.

“You do not touch me. You never touch me without my permission.” She hissed her eyes blazing even though her voice was shaking.

“Jagi.” He tried again taking a step back to give her space. “Jagi, please.” He pleaded his eyes soft and contrite as he looked at her.

“No!” She yelled taking another step back closer to Jungkook who was tense, holding himself as taunt as a bowstring was waiting to jump in as soon as she needed him. He loved his hyung, but anyone with eyes could see something was very, very wrong. “Don’t.”

“Noona.” He whispered gently touching her shoulder flinching with her when she flinched back at the sensation only to relax when she realized who it was melting back into the familiar protection of his presence. Jungkook was safe. Jungkook could protect her.

“Y/N, please let me talk to you.” Namjoon pleaded in physical pain as she flinched back from him and into the protection of another man’s arms.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, jagi.” He begged eyes soft and pleading. “Jagiya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“You’ve done enough.”  She hissed turning on her heel and leaving the dining room. She turned at the door to face him again, leveling him with a cold glare. “I’ll be moving my things back to the other room.” She swept out of the room Jungkook following closely behind her.

And Namjoon couldn’t even argue with that.

The stony silence between the two of them continued until the Christmas party. Y/N would not let him near let alone let him touch her, but the Christmas party was one obligation that he couldn’t allow her to shirk. She was expected to attend as his wife. She had yet to move back to the master bedroom, and she had no plans to do so any time soon. Namjoon was living with the consequences of his actions and this was one of them.

She hadn’t even let him near here when she’d gotten sick repeatedly, day after day. Jungkook reported that she was suffering from night terrors. Jin said it was because of the stress, and Namjoon couldn’t have felt worse. It was his fault. He’d taken things too far, and now she wouldn’t look at him. It was killing him inside.

Anything she said to him was cold and clipped. All the progress he had made, months of work, was gone in an instant, ruined in a night. He tiptoed around the estate looking like a kicked puppy trying to find an opportunity to talk to her, but she was adamant in her avoidance, the queen of the cold shoulder. It seemed to him that her ire was endless, and he couldn’t even blame her for it. He’d done something unforgiveable.

The worst of it was on the drive over to the party. He had to give the jewelry for her ensemble to Jungkook to deliver to her. He wasn’t allowed past the threshold of that room, and even Moni, his dog, had taken to growling at him when he tried to enter the room.

She sat next to him during the drive bundled up in her coat and gloves staring out the window. He hadn’t seen her in the full outfit yet. She’d come down the stairs bundled up in her coat and gloves hair neatly tied back and her expression glacial as she breezed past him to the car. She didn’t say a word to him the entire time.

“Y/N…” He began trying to start conversation though he wasn’t sure that she would allow it.

“Let’s just get through tonight.”

“Y/N.”  

“No. We’ll get through tonight. That’s all that I promised.” She sighed picking imaginary lint off her coat.

“Y/N, we need to talk.” He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been two weeks of this. He missed the sound of her voice. He missed talking to her. He’d even settle for her yelling at him.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“We have a great deal to talk about.”

A small bitter smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “Do you think talking is going to make this better?” She asked turning her gaze to him for the first time in weeks.

“I know it’s not.”

“Did you or did you not promise me when you first took me that you would never touch me without my permission?” She hissed head cocked to the side curiously. “I thought we promised not to lie to each other.”

“We did.”

“Then I’m imagining what happened? Because the great RM would never break his word?”

“Y/N… jagi…”

She threw back her head laughing the sound breaking through the thick tension filling the car. “Do you really think there’s anything you can say that will make this better? You’d think that I’d be used to this by now, but I guess I never learn.”

Namjoon froze letting the reality of those words sink in along with the horror they brought with them. He stared at her eyes wide. “Jagi… I’m…. I’m sorry, jagi…”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”

“Jagi…” He reached over to take her hand, but she snatched it back throwing him a harsh glare.

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Hoseok asked scanning the area for the woman that was missing from Namjoon’s side.

“She wasn’t feeling well. Got sick in the car. I had the driver take her home to rest.” He explained sipping at a scotch. “I tried to talk to her.” He began scowling down into his cup.

“And?” the other man asked curiously.

“She said she didn’t want to talk, that nothing could make it better, and then she got sick.” He sighed expression gloomy.

“Lighten up. She’ll come around eventually.” Hoseok patted his shoulder sympathetically. “You have all the time in the world. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”

“We’re back to square one. Worse than square one.”  He groaned placing his glass on a passing tray. “It’s worse than when I first brought her home.”

“Wow.” Hoseok laughed. “And she threw a vase at you that time.”

“And tried to jump out the window.” A small wry smile tugged at his lips at the memory.

“She’s something.” Hoseok smiled swiping them both a glass of champagne from another passing tray. “She’s good for you. Keeps you on your toes.”

“When she talks to me.” He growled throwing back the glass. “She won’t even look at me.”

Hoseok sighed smile falling from his face. “You have to talk to her.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Make her talk to you.” He shrugged. “She can’t ignore you forever.”

“She’s certainly trying.” He huffed out a bitter laugh of his own scowling at his empty glass. “Stubborn woman.” He murmured under his breath.

He knew he had to talk to her, but she wasn’t making it easy. She wasn’t going to make it easy though. That was part of her charm. She never made things easy for him. It was what drew him to her in the first place, her fire, her ability to match him at every turn. Even when he’d stripped her of everything, she was still a fighter. This was different though. This was complete radio silence. It wasn’t fighting. It was like when she was catatonic, she was completely freezing him out like he didn’t exist at all.

“What do you suggest?”  He asked sighing deeply. “How far can I push her before she breaks? I don’t want a shell of her. I want her.”

“You have time. Keep trying. She’s what you want right?”

“She’s everything I want.” And he had no intention of losing her. He refused to lose her.

She never managed to change out of her dress when she returned to the house. She’d gone straight to her bedroom to lie down, not even removing her shoes. She was sprawled across the bed red dress fanned out around her like a pool of blood as she laid with her arm thrown over her eyes.

She was grateful not to have had to go to the party. She didn’t know if she could stand a whole evening by his side. Her skin crawled every time he was near. The bruises were faded but the memory of the incident had not.

She only moved from her position when she heard the door to the room bang open. Sitting up she saw Namjoon storming towards her, and she could only sit there like a dear in the headlights.  

“What are you doing here?” She asked watching him with wide eyes. “Get out.” She watched in astonishment as he dropped to his knees in front of her clutching her hands tightly in his as she tried to yank them away.  “What are you doing?”

“I love you.” His words were spoken fiercely, his eyes lit up with determination. “I love you, and I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take this silence this cold war. I want you. All of you.”

She laughed the sound bitter and cold. “You want me? Have you ever stopped to think that that’s the problem? You want things so you take them. What about me? What about what I wanted? I want to go home. I want my life back. But that doesn’t matter, not to you. This isn’t love.” She hissed out each words throwing them each out like a dagger to his heart. “This is obsession, possession, but it sure as hell isn’t love.”  

“I love you.” He repeated clutching her hands tighter.

“I don’t.”

“What?” He asked eyes wide searching her face hoping for any trace of a lie or hesitance of some kind, but there was none.

“I don’t love you.” She repeated voice steady as she gazed down at him. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

“I would give you the world if you would just let me.”

Looking at him she knew he meant those words. He really thought that he loved her. He thought that this was okay, that he was doing the right thing for them. But it wasn’t, not for her.

“I don’t want the world.” She whispered voice low and gentle. “I just want my life back.”

“This is your life, here with me.” He urged reaching up his hands to cup her face, holding her steady even as she tried to pull away. “My wife, my love, my life.”

“You don’t know what love is.”  She scoffed ripping herself out of his hold and standing up and striding over to the window arms wrapped around herself.

He strode after her holding onto her upper arms as they stood looking out over the dark garden. “You have to forgive me eventually.”

She whirled around delivering a sharp slap to his face. The sound of the impact echoed across the quiet room as they stared at each other both breathing heavily.

“I don’t have to do anything.”  The words were laced in venom. “Get out.” She ordered staring up at him defiantly.

“Y/N.” He pleaded, reaching for her.

“Out!” She yelled again. “I look at you, and I see him. I thought you were better than him, but you’re not. You’re worse than him. That was my own mess. This, this is your hell.”

The words stung hitting him right at the heart of the issue. She was comparing him to Marcus, a man she had called vile and brutish on more than one occasion.

“Get out.” She ordered again pushing on his chest shoving him away, and he stumbled back shaken by her words. “Out!”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow.” It sounded more like a question than a statement, a figment of wishful thinking.

“Out!”

Part 32

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Light in the Dark

Summary: Avoiding Bucky seemed to be the thing to do after the two of you broke up, until a mission gone wrong shows you how much you have to lose.  Pairing; Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2415 Warnings: Language, angst, canon typical gun violence, GSW, blood.  Square Filled: Post-Breakup AU for @marvelfluffbingo.  Square Filled: Second gif within the fic (Y2) for @buckybarnesbingo. [Rating: Teen/Mature]  A/N: I feel like I maybe ended another fic with a similar line? Anyway, don’t call me out, ha. Happy Reading!

GIF Source

“So, ending it. That’s what you want?”

Tears were brimming in her eyes and the lump in her throat stopped her from answering Bucky’s question. She sniffed, hoping it would stop her emotions from falling down her cheeks. One blink though, and she was betrayed. 

“It’s not what I want, Buck.” Her tone was bordering on pleading. “But you and I don’t want the same things. I want to move forward, you want to stay stuck. You won’t open up to me, you haven’t touched me in weeks — and I’m not even talking about sex. You won’t hold my hand, won’t stand within two feet of me.”

He pressed his lips to a thin line and sighed. He started with a measured tone, partial words stumbling out until he got so frustrated at his inability to form a sentence, he let out a loud growl and pounded on the table nearby. 

“You don’t get it! All right? You don’t know the things that are still in my head, you don’t know how much fear I live in, every mother fucking day, that I’m going to lose it and hurt you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, raking a vibranium hand through his hair. “This is more than you can handle, Y/N. There are days when — when I don’t wanna talk and you think things are worse than ever. That’s not always the case. Some days I just need the quiet. Everything in my head is so loud — that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not good for you.”

Her tears came to an abrupt stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t have demons of my own? You think the things that I have done, the lives I have taken, don’t haunt me in my sleep? At every waking moment? I see their faces, every time I close my eyes. You are not the only one with blood on your hands, Bucky Barnes.” She stood and clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think that I’m one of those agents who was bred into this because my parents were in the first wave of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, who can handle all of this and then sleep at night like it’s nothing, you don’t know me at all.”

She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She wiped her taste away with her thumb before taking a step back. 

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

For weeks after the split, they avoided each other at all costs. If she rounded a corner and saw Bucky coming her way, she backtracked and took the long way around. If Bucky was headed to the common room but heard her singing along to the radio before he made it there, he turned on his heel and got what he needed elsewhere. Every now and then, he could bribe someone into getting what he needed, but the whole crew was running thin on that arrangement. 

“You could talk to her, you know,” Sam suggested. 

Steve nodded his agreement. “At least work out a schedule of who can be where and when. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, but hey, at least then you two can have a more normal life and the rest of us can stop making money off of your awkward situation. Besides, it’s been … how long has it been? Surely long enough for you two to be adults about the situation.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come to me and say what she needed to say.”

Nat came into the room and sighed. “Not necessarily, Barnes. I’ve talked to Y/N about it and she doesn’t want to be in your way anymore than you want to be in hers. To be honest, I’m not so sure that this break-up is really worth the trouble when the two of you could just talk it out and work through your problems.”

“We wanted different things,” Bucky mumbled, “and that hasn’t changed. What I want hasn’t changed.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Her. You want her, stupid. The rest of it is called compromise. You should look it up sometime. Y/N can stop moping around, you can come back from the dim place. Everyone can be back to their normal lives.”

“The dim place?” Sam repeated. 

“Yeah, you know. Not the dark place. He’s been in the dark place. This sucks but it’s not as bad as the dark place.”

“Makes sense,” Steve commented; Bucky looked to him for confirmation that his best friend agreed with Nat. “Hey, it’s not bad advice. I mean, she's also the one who told me to ask out the chick in accounting with a lip piercing.”

Nat punched Steve playfully in the shoulder. “Hey, she was nice!”

They all laughed about the idea of a freshly-thawed Steve dating a girl with a lip piercing; Bucky had to admit, it was nice to have the attention off of him and Y/N and on to a different subject. 

Attention rescue team; emergency extraction call received. Departure in three minutes and counting. Rescue team; extraction mission imminent. Three minutes and counting. 

FRIDAY’s voice pulled most of them from a steady — or not-so-steady — sleep and into action mode. A team raced for the quinjet, in uniform and ready for a debriefing as the jet took off.  

“Secretary of State was abducted by a Russian militia organization. Our job is to go in, extract, get him home. I’m waiting now for reports on what kind of arms they have on the ground,” Tony informed as he set their destination into the navigation system. 

Y/N buckled in and let out a deep breath. Flying was something she was getting more used to, but she did better when she knew the flight was coming. Several minutes into the flight, her tension was redirected from a few bumps of turbulence to the unexpected hand on her shoulder. 

“You doing okay?” Bucky asked. 

She pulled her shoulder from his touch. “Yeah, fine. I’m always fine.”

He smirked just a little. "I know you are, but the flying …”

“I’m great, Sergeant Barnes. Just peachy.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and he sat back in his seat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, her expression stoic, even as Tony took the jet higher. Her jaw was clenched though, giving away her nerves. Bucky decided the best thing to do would be to keep an eye on her; be supportive from a distance. 

The mission started out well enough. They located the Secretary easily — too easily, really. Nat, Wanda, and Clint went ahead of the group to keep the path clear back to the quinjet; Tony and Rhodey were on either side of the Secretary; Y/N and Steve were right behind him; Bucky brought up the rear. 

No one was quite sure where the first shots came from. The Secretary groaned and grabbed for his left shoulder as more bullets whizzed past the group. Tony and Rhodes took one arm each and flew him back to the quinjet while the rest of them went on the defensive. 

Y/N was taking a mental head count of everyone running in front of her; Nat, Wanda, Clint, Steve — check all. Where was Bucky? Emotions took over and she spoke into the comm. 

“Barnes, send back.” When no answer came, she stopped in her tracks. “Barnes! Send back!”

Still no answer. Her eyes met Steve’s for a brief second before she was turning and running the other direction, away from the rest of them. Steve was yelling behind her but she wasn’t about to stop and wait for whatever it is he had to say. As she got back to where the shooting had started, she started calling Bucky’s name. Her heart raced with frantic emotion at the million possibilities that could be keeping Bucky behind. 

A Russian militiaman was positioned over Bucky, fists flying. Bright red blood pooled under Bucky’s thighs and spurting with each heartbeat made Y/N panic that his wounds were fatal as is, without a beating on top of it. A feral yell rumbled from deep in her chest as she rushed the other man, knocking him away from Bucky and tackling him to the ground. 

Her own fists were flying now, lashing out at the man who might dare to take Bucky away from her. Somewhere in her mind, Y/N knew that getting Bucky medical attention needed to be a priority, but she couldn’t stop her anger from taking control at that moment. 

“Y/N, hey, come on! Enough!” Steve yelled, finally catching up to her. He pulled her away from the Russian, who had gone unconscious at some point. His face was bloody and mangled, but his own people would have to take care of him. 

Steve assessed Bucky’s other injuries while Y/N used her belt as a tourniquet around his leg. Between the two of them, they managed to get him back to the quinjet without much more incident; the second the were on board, Tony raised the bridge and took off. 

“What happened?” Nat questioned, helping to get Bucky laying down. She grabbed for a first aid kid and found some gauze to place over the bullet wound while Y/N threw her gloves off and took his face in her hands. 

“Bucky! Can you hear me? Look at me, Buck! You stay with us, all right? We’re going to get you back, they’re going to take care of you. But you have to fight too, you have to stay with me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes when his eyes met hers. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’ve got too many days of awkward interactions ahead of us.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a weak smirk as his cold, shaky hand came up to her cheek. Y/N leaned into it, still pleading quietly with him not to leave her like this. 

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky whispered, only a couple of seconds before his eyes closed and his hand fell away from her face. 

Hours passed in agony as you waited outside the medical bay for any updates on Bucky’s health. She didn’t change out of her uniform, didn’t bother to get cleaned up, only followed his gurney as far as they would let her go. After that, she found a chair and fell into it, determined not to move until she had some concrete information. 

“Here,” Nat said, nudging her with an elbow. “Water and coffee. I’ll bring you food when you can stomach it.”

Y/N took the water bottle first, downed half of it, then set it aside and sipped at the coffee. She probably did need to eat, but the very idea of food make her stomach churn. Nat stayed but didn’t speak. Y/N waited a full minute before she broke the silence. 

“He was trying.”

Nat frowned. “Bucky?”

Y/N nodded. “On the quinjet. He knew I was going to be anxious about the flight and he asked if I was okay. I blew him off. I didn’t want his sympathy because I’m still so mad at him. How could he think that I was — that I couldn’t understand where he was coming from? Maybe not to the extent that it was happening, but I’m not innocent, Nat.”  She scoffed. “And how could I not be more understanding? How could I walk away from him and not show him how much I love him. How much I need him.”

“You need each other,” Nat offered. 

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

She sat silently with Nat for the next several hours. There was still no word, and no one would let them into the medical bay. Nat had finally convinced Y/N that she needed to shower when Dr. Cho came out to update them. Y/N bumped into Nat, she turned around so fast after hearing her name being called. 

Helen drew in a deep breath. “Bullet nicked his femoral artery, but fortunately, I think his advanced healing process saved his life. We did the rest of the surgical repairs and I believe if he can pull through the next couple of days, he should be in the clear.”

Both Nat and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. The women hugged briefly before Y/N asked if she could see him. 

Helen smiled. “Of course; he’s been asking for you. We wanted to give him time to pull it together after the surgery.”

But Y/N only the first of Helen’s sentence. She raced into the medical bay, stopping once to ask which room Bucky was in. When she got there, she was nearly breathless. 

“Wondered if you were gonna come see me,” Bucky mumbled, giving her as much of a smile as he could manage. 

She stood next to his bed and took his vibranium hand. “Bucky, I’m so sorry …”

“Hey, you’re not the one who shot me.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N scolded. “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have walked away, shouldn’t have brushed you off in the jet. What if you hadn’t made it?”

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. I’m all right. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“But not with me so mad at you,” she whispered. “I don't want to do this anymore, Buck. I don't care how much we fight or how much we push each other away. I don't want to have the horrendously gigantic cloud lingering over me that one of us could die and you wouldn't know how much I love you.”

Bucky reached up to caress her cheek; this time, his hand was warm, steady. “I can't promise to give you everything you want right away. I still am who I am, Y/N. But I sure as hell can try.”

She leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Who you are is exactly who I fell in love with. Trying is all I ask.”

He pulled her in for another kiss. There would be plenty more to be discussed, when Bucky was fully on the mend and ready for it. The fights would come, the darker days would come. As long as neither of them gave up on each other, though, there would always be a light in the darkness. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @gifted-burnout​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​ @disastersoldierbucky​

Buckvember (Not already included in AotT): @peace-love-hobbitness​  @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ 

[princesslocket]

🥣 Made With Love 🥣

Hi hi! Before we get to the fanfic, I'd just like to say a big thank you to @ina11writingexchange for hosting this awesome writers exchange! I'm so glad to have been able to participate for this round as well as being given the opportunity to gift @hachuna yet another gift this year!

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this Hachuna! It was a lot of fun to write ((Btw this fic is also cross-posted on AO3 if anyone is interested in reading it there too! The link is in the title))

If anyone were to ask Endou Natsumi what her favorite pass time activity was, she’d automatically answer with “cooking!” and then excitedly list off all the dishes she had made within the past week. It always amazed her friends just how passionate she was about preparing food in the kitchen.

However, she hadn’t always been a fan of cooking.

Natsumi’s love for cooking had originated during her time spent managing the Raimon soccer team in her middle school years. In the beginning she had been quiet hesitant to even try making a rice ball but after she mastered the art of the rice ball, her love for cooking sparked almost instantaneously. It only took preparing a couple more meals before Natsumi was fully onboard with the idea of preparing food in general. It filled her with a sense of pride whenever she was able to witness the team enjoying the meals she, Haruna, and Aki made for them. The compliments they dished out were a great source of ego boosting as well, but she always made it point to stay humble. And even after the team graduated, leaving her with no one else to cook for, Natsumi continued to search up new recipes to try making for herself in the comfort of her own home.

Over the years her cooking had improved, albeit not as significantly as everyone had hoped for, but just enough to where she no longer mixed up the salt and sugars when she tried baking the occasional birthday cake. It was a subtle yet profound type of improvement that left Endou that much more hopeful for their future meals seeing as he had married her not too long after her cooking had started to improve.

One thing that really helped Natsumi improve in her cooking was through the aid of an old looking cook book she just so happened to borrow from Endou! She’d seen the book several times laying in various places throughout their house but had never bothered to look through it until one day when her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself rejoicing at all the cool looking recipes inside. Oh the joy she felt while flipping through the pages was almost too good. How had she not opened the book sooner?

Following the days upon opening the cook book, Natsumi happily followed the messily written instructions provided by the cook book to prepare dishes that she could only assume had been passed down from Endou’s family. She would later find out from Endou himself that the cook book she had been using was actually Endou Daisuke’s hissatsu manual. The discovery came as quiet a shook to Natsumi seeing as she had been following the instructions of the book for several weeks, even going as far to serving a boy named Matsukaze Tenma some of said dishes as well. But all Endou could do was laugh at the situation they found themselves in.

“You mean to tell me that this really isn’t the kanji for egg?”

“I’m positive, Natsumi. These are the instructions for God Hand- Wait a second! How were even able to mistake this for a cook book? I thought you knew what Daisuke’s hissatsu manual looked like?”

“It’s been a while since I last saw it okay!”

Even after the discovery of the ‘cook book’s’ true nature was revealed Natsumi continued to use it. Admittedly, the food Natsumi made following the hissatsu manual never inherently tasted terribly bad. So what harm was there in letting her continue to use it? As long as Endou was there to assist her with some of the misinterpreted kanji of the book, everything was fine.

Unfortunately, not all good things lasted forever. On one particular day an unforeseen disaster appeared out of nowhere…

Natsumi had been preparing dinner in the kitchen when it happened. She hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Ever since Endou took over as Raimon’s coach, he would occasionally return home late, so why would this time be any different? As the minutes ticked by Natsumi continued to prepare dinner. While she maneuvered around the kitchen she kept herself entertained with the quiet sound of the T.V. playing in the background.

Although she usually paid no mind to what the news anchors were saying, something about that night in particular urged her to listen carefully. She had been cutting away at a bundle of carrots when a certain news report caught her attention. Although they weren’t showing video footage of the incident taking place, the news anchors reported a massive car crash near Raimon.

Upon hearing the name of the school, Natsumi put all food to the side and quickly ran to her phone, dialing up Endou to ask if he was still at the school. Knowing her husband, he would most likely be assisting whoever had been unfortunate enough to get hurt outside of their old school. But when he didn’t answer her first, second, or third call, Natsumi began to worry. The news anchors wouldn’t disclose the names of the people involved in the accident, nor would they show the faces of anyone other than the reporter on duty. They did, however, announce the arrival of special dispatched services on the scene as well as the name of the hospital the heavily injured were being taken to.

After a while Natsumi’s phone began to ring, which she immediately answered. Letting out a sigh of relief, Natsumi pressed the phone to her ear, ready to hear Endou’s cheerful voice. With everything appearing to be taken care of on screen, Endou was surely going to fill her in on everything that had happed. It was a good thing she had prepared so much food for the night!

“Natsumi, it’s Kidou, we don’t have much time- It’s Endou… He got into a car crash and- You need to hurry. An ambulance is already taking him to the hospital but… I’ll fill you in on everything once you get here-“

“I’m on the way.”

Within seconds Natsumi was already racing out of the house, dinner abandoned in the kitchen and T.V still playing quietly in the background. She did everything in her power to get to the hospital as fast as she could but it was too late. By the time she came rushing in through the hospital doors, Endou had been pronounced dead.

Time flashed by in a blur following Endou’s death. His funeral came and went, the days following blended together a little too seamlessly and Natsumi’s love for cooking diminished along with her once cheery life. Without Endou around, she no longer held the motivation to prepare any kind of meal in or out of the kitchen. Even when Haruna, Aki, and Fuyuka tried to rekindle their little cooking arties, Natsumi couldn’t bring herself to make anything. Everything she had ever made was out of her love for Endou.

As time went by, Natsumi slowly began to store her cooking utensils away. If she wasn’t going to be cooking anymore, than why bother keep them out in the open to collect dust?

She was in the middle of labeling a soon to be packed away box of kitchen ladles one day when the sound of knocking stopped her. Setting her marker to the side, Natsumi walked to the front door. Her knees nearly buckled when she gazed out the peep hole to see who was outside.

Standing just outside the door was Endou… But it couldn’t be him, right? He had passed away months ago. She had gone to his funeral and everything! There was no way her could possibly be standing outside. As she was thinking these thoughts an almost indescribable feeling washed over her. Suddenly she couldn’t remember attending a funeral nor could she remember why she had started packing away all her cooking supplies. It was as if she was just now waking up from some type of horrible nightmare, a nightmare had clouded over her real life for the past several months.

Whatever nightmare she been under was finally over. Any trace of sadness and despair melted away the longer she stared at Endou. Instead, the feelings were replaced with joy and relief. Although the sudden change in feelings were a little unexpected, they weren’t unwelcomed. In fact she was all the happier to embrace them!

Not wanting to keep Endou waiting any longer, Natsumi decidedly threw the door open, startling Endou as it swung to the side, and proceeded to jumping into the arms of the man in front of her.

“Mamoru!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she pressed herself as tightly as she could to her husband. “I can’t explain it but it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been all day?”

“Woah! I missed you too! Oh man, Natsumi, you wouldn’t believe all the crazy things that happened to me ‘today.’ I’ve got so much to tell you but, uh, I think it’d be best if we went inside first.” Contradictory to his own words, Endou hugged Natsumi even closer to himself, thus rendering any attempt to head into the house useless.

For several long minutes the two stood outside their house, hugging each other, and exchanging a few words before wither one of them made any real attempts to pull away. But when they did, it was Natsumi who moved away. She waisted no time in dragging Endou inside and towards their dining room table, pulling out a chair for him to sit in and then rushing off towards their refrigerator in search of something for them to eat.

Strangely enough, the refrigerator was once again filled with an abundance of food Natsumi had almost no recollection of buying. She glanced a look to Endou, who at first made no comment, but as soon as she turned her back had heard the faintest of words from him.

“I guess time really did reset itself.”

From that day on life returned to normal, or as normal as it could be with Natsumi knowing her ‘nightmare’ had in fact been real but was now a part of a separate timeline of sorts. But seeing as their current timeline was restored, Natsumi decidedly let her supposed bad months drift away.

She started cooking again, only this time she followed tutorials online through YouTube and an odd app called TikTok. When Endou asked why she was following so many different cooking videos, Natsumi would claim that “the hissatsu manual could only offer so much.”

Despite her best efforts her cooking still left much to be desired from. But Endou never truly cared about the overall outcome of the food he’d be offered.

“It’s the thought counts.” He’d tell himself whenever a dish was placed in front of him. “If it’s for Natsumi, I’d gladly eat a thousand more meals of her cooking- I’d do anything to make her happy.”

[shinsoups]

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class 1A

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

random updates

trigger warning : mentions of abuse/torture

OO2 : The Principal —

There were hushed voices inside the conference room, debating on the current issue everyone seemed to disagree on. The only people who wasn’t much interested was Ectoplasm and Vlad King cause according to the latter “It wouldn’t hurt to teach another student, no matter what the circumstance is. Midnight is just making this into a big issue.” Thus a meeting was called for everyone to know the real reason.

This would be one hectic semester, Cementoss whispers as he scans the folder he was holding. Two weeks had passed since the other teachers found out about the new transferee recommended at U.A. Midnight was the first to disagree on the idea. Why would they even accept a new student in the middle of a new semester? And to top it all, a quirkless girl who has no desire of becoming a Hero.

“Before I start,” Principal Nezu’s voice came out of nowhere. “I hope everyone will understand what the situation of this child we’re talking about and why I invited her to come to U.A.”

Present Mic’s boisterous laughter interrupted the silence looming inside the room and pointed at Aizawa���s shoulder. He was trying to hold it in but the sight in front him was just too much.

He shook his head; this is going to be a tiring meeting. Pressing his temple Aizawa sighed, “I’m pretty sure we have more chairs.” Addressing their principal as if he was patiently talking to a child.

“It’s nice and warm over here, though” the principal chided. Cuddling closer to Aizawa’s shoulder and wrapping his tiny body with the wrap scarf Aizawa always sported. The sight was so hilarious yet no one dared laugh except Present Mic as Aizawa’s eyes shone red in warning, his hair flaring up in annoyance.

Aizawa shook his head in defeat, leaning forward to take the file in front of him. “She agreed to visit and see my class once school started once again.” His monotonous voice started.

“But I’m sure she’s not convinced to attend the school. She’s a smart kid even without us knowing what her Quirk truly is. She’s lying about something as if she’s subconsciously protecting herself. Principal Nezu would like to conduct a little experiment about her.” He gave his report after meeting you. He was set and determined to give you an answer after that day and after telling Nezu what he observed about you, the Principal came up with an interesting plan.

Nezu reach his tiny arm upward, patting Aizawa’s head and continued, “The girl is not Quirkless." All-Might squinted his eyes. Something is up and he was right all along.

"To tell you all the truth, she could defeat all of us here if she wanted to. Her strength if given a chance to grow could be on par with a Pro Hero.”

A hushed tension once again filled the room. All eyes on the Principal, Thirteen was the first one to ask. “Her file says she’s Quirkless, even registered as one. What could you possibly mean she could defeat us?”

Sliding down Aizawa’s scarf, Principal Nezu walked towards his chair and opened the same file everyone was holding. Staring at the letter he received from your late grandfather, he was certain he could share some information about you, leaving some things unsaid for your own safety.

“She was born out of Quirk Marriage. Her parents were known scientist that died in an unfortunate accident six years ago. I know you all remember this since you were there, Thirteen.”

Nezu looked at everyone as if he said something taboo. The infamous accident that killed several heroes in action. There were already several controversies rounding about it saying that the laboratory was conducting inhuman experiments on orphaned kids who possesses rare quirks at such a young age. The Hero Association knows about something yet everyone kept their mouths sealed. The news died down months after the accident. Yet the heroes who were there to witness will never forget about it.

“Her parents were obsessed on what power she would acquire. Enough to sacrifice their own child in the name of science.” Nezu looked at All-Might. His cerulean eyes stared back almost seeing the horrific incident once again.

“The bandages she wears around her arms…” All-Might trailed off. Imagining the horrors you experienced at your parents own hands. He was there, he was the one who saved you and freed you from it. All-Might closed his eyes, trying to forget the frail body he held, who was fighting and holding on for dear life. “So it was her.” He pondered.

“Countless experiment done by her own parents. They were mad so to speak. Once she reached the age of four she didn’t show any signs of inheriting either of their Quirks. The scars she received for almost five years of torture made her so conscious about it so she kept her skin hidden.” Nezu dropped the file and looked at Aizawa.

Everyone flinched. No one dared to ask again. Minutes felt like hours— as if a bucket of cold water was thrown over everyone’s faces. A tiny clap took everyone’s attention back at their principal. “I expect everyone will not agree to this, but according to her grandparents had told me in the letter, she might have inherited both her parents power.”

“Might? It’s just a possibility. We’re not even sure, right? It's not like she'll suddenly turn into a villain, right?” Midnight contradicted.

“That is why I came up with a plan and invited her here. She needs guidance. One thing she never get to experience.” Nezu smiled at her. His tiny paws clasped in front of him, leaving no room for arguments anymore. “I would like to know and see for ourselves. One week from now, one of Shota-kun’s student will help us in executing this plan.” His gaze drifted back to the raven-haired man.

“You know something we don’t.” Midnight eyed the Principal, itching to find out what he meant by you defeating them, Pro-Heroes, even without any proper training or whatsoever. Did she felt inferior? Why was she scared of your presence when she hasn’t even met you in person? Sighing in defeat she announces, “I’ll accept her once she shows something interesting.”

Nezu only smiles at her knowingly. “Good! Now who wants tea?”

taglist: @b0ku4ka @sugarandsoft @roesaurus @moonlightbae14 @therealwalmartjesus @redperson58

i got a taglist im soft ~ want to join? just leave a comment my dudes ✨

a/n: i just wanted to write a fic about Nezu and Aizawa using the 1st photo above kskskks 🤗 hence the chapter and title (i still dont know why i wrote this)

likes, comments and reblogs is highly appreciated 🐣this is my first time writing bnha so tips and comments are really helpful ! ✨

[rpd-rookie]

What Does The ‘S’ Stand For ? - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: When you learn that Leon got the job you desperately wanted you decide to pay him a visit to congratulate him and finally put an end to the competition between the two of you in favour of some cooperation. Turns out, cooperation sometimes involve taking your clothes off.

Author’s Note: Some one-shot involving (pre) RE2 Remake Leon, a very sassy reader and some smut. I haven't written that genre in a while though. Hope I'm not too rusty. And by the way, if you notice some terrible grammatical mistakes please let me know (English is not my mother tongue). Anyway, I wish you'll like this story and as usual don't forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think about it.

Warning: SMUT and Language. You can also expect some humour and some fluff. 

Also available on AO3

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “Competition has been shown to be useful up to a certain point and no further, but cooperation, which is the thing we must strive for today, begins where competition leaves off.” Wise words. But clearly Roosevelt never had to compete with Kennedy, and by Kennedy you didn’t mean John F. Kennedy but another Kennedy, one with less charisma yet better hair (hell, got to render unto Caesar what’s Caesar’s), Leon S. Kennedy - ‘S’ probably standing for “sucker” or “saint” in your opinion. After all, the guy was such a goody two-shoes. Teacher’s favourite. Neat and tidy top student. Perfect arbiter of right and wrong. And certainly, the only guy in the academy who didn’t stick his cock in Barbara Johnson’s pussy. Weird since she also had a president’s name just like him. Could have been the perfect opportunity for a horizontal presidential debate.

If it wasn’t clear already, you didn’t like Kennedy very much. But it was not for the reasons mentioned above. No, you could tolerate the fact that he was the embodiment of virtue and morals. What you could not tolerate though, was that he was better than you at everything. At fundamentals, at crime prevention and analysis, at counterintelligence, at physical agility, at shooting, at… well, you get the point. It infuriated you. He infuriated you. You never had the chance to beat him. Never. He was always top of your class and you were always close second.           So of course, when you received the letter from the Raccoon City Police Department informing you that your application had been rejected and that the position had been given to someone else, you did the math.       Only Kennedy could have taken that job away from you. After all, you had heard him talking about Raccoon City at lunch break quite a few times in the past weeks and each time he had sounded so excited – well, as excited as cannibalistic murders can make you of course. Truth is, you had also shown interest in this city the moment its terrible crimes hit the first page of the newspapers alongside the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal, collecting every tiny article about it and telling your classmates what a thrilling experience it would be to work on that case. You had even imagined yourself wearing the blue uniform, RPD largely written on your chest, making a report about the rotting body of a camper found in the Arklay mountains.

You sighed, disappointment hitting you hard again. And with a hesitant hand, you knocked at the door in front of you somewhat ready to let go of the competition in favour of some cooperation. You barely waited a couple of seconds before Kennedy opened the door, a cordless telephone against his ear. He appeared genuinely surprised to see you there. “Call you back later, mom.” He said before hanging up the phone, still staring at you with astonished eyes. “Y/N.”   

“Telling your mommy about the amazing job you just got?” Your question had sounded more barbed and curter than indented. Bitterness probably. Leon sighed. He knew exactly what you meant. “Look, if it is about Raccoon City…” “Of course it is about Raccoon City. Why do you think I’m here? To discuss fashion?” You entered his bedsit without asking and looked around you. So well organized and tidy, so military. Pff. Where were the greasy pizza boxes, the nasty underwear on the floor and the bin filled with used tissues all the other guys usually had?      

You turned around to face him with a stone cold expression. “I’m guessing you knew I wanted that post.”           “Yeah but…” You cut him off. You couldn’t care less about the thing he wanted to say. “I don’t blame you. Had I been in your place I would have apply for it too. Damn, I even applied without being in your place, so … The point is, I wanted to congratulate you – even if it hurts me to do so – and tell you that I’m glad this competition between the two of us is finally coming to end.” Leon briefly chuckled and kept an amused smile on his face. This wasn’t the kind of words he had expected from you. “Well, thanks I guess.”       “You’re welcome” You dramatically put a hand over your heart “Gosh, it kills me to be so polite to you, Kennedy.” He retained a laugh and you approached him to slam a heavy blue binder against his - surprisingly strong - chest. Wow, muscles! “Take this.” You reluctantly said with a strangled voice as if you were a mother giving up her baby . “Take care of it. It’s the work of a lifetime … sort of.”

Leon furrowed his brows and opened the folder. Inside, there were all the articles you had collected about Raccoon City since the reveal of the incidents to the public eye plus some notes you had written during you personal late-night investigations. Leon skimmed through them. They were incredibly detailed and you could see how impressed he was. Damn, you wished you had your camera to immortalise this moment. “It won’t be of any use to me now. And it took me too much time to just throw it away so have it. Take it as parting gift.” “Wow, Y/N. I don’t know what to say.” He looked beyond happy. It made you smile. What the hell, Y/N?           “Thank you, maybe?” You swallowed you smile back before he could notice, choosing to replace what could have been something sweet and nice by sarcasm. “Yes, sure.” He grinned. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack so you’re not obliged to say ‘you’re welcome’.” He teased you and as much as you wanted to find the joke lame, you surprisingly found it rather funny.   “Good. Cause that would have been too much for my heart to take in a single day.” He smiled again and this time you couldn’t help but gaze. You were forced to acknowledge he was very cute, handsome even, certainly the kind of guy you would have willingly flirt with if it hadn’t been for the relentless competition between the two of you. “You know it’s nice to see you smile.” Your eyes slightly widened. You had been smiling the whole time? No! “That wasn’t a smile. That was a sneer.” You quickly replied, trying to prevent him from spotting the sudden panic in your eyes.   “Sure.” But yeah, that was definitely a smile and right now your cheeks were burning.

You cleared your throat and looked back upon his face, hoping yours had found back its usual seriousness and scorn. “Well, gotta go. Good riddance, Kennedy. Good luck and try not to screw up.” You proceeded to the door, glad this conversation was over, but Leon was not ready to let you leave just yet. “You know, for me, there was never a competition between us.” You stopped and turned around. “What?” You frowned. “Of course, there was a competition.” He shook his head. “Not for me.”   “Are you telling me that I have deprived myself of sleeping, fallen into coffee addiction and lost my entire social life for two years in the hope of finally beating you at a freaking test while you …” You could tell he was clearly trying not to laugh but his mocking grin was enough to make you blow a fuse. Well, a funny fuse … a funny desperate fuse “No! No!” You repeated, all irritated. “You’re kidding me!” He shrugged, playing all innocent. “Don’t fucking tell me you let me tilt at windmills!” He did. Bastard. Leon - Son of a bitch - Kennedy! That’s what the S stands for. You cursed in your head.           “I tried to tell you …” He started to explain to defend himself. “When?” You harrumphed, almost shouting at him. “Well, many times but …”           “Clearly not enough times.” Your sarcasm was back. “… each time you sent me packing” “I don’t do that.” You felt offended.         “I can’t barely make a full sentence with you!” You opened your mouth to retort but he stopped you by pointing a finger that undeniably meant ‘Careful what you’re going to say’. So you stood there, perfectly still, mouth opened, realising that he was probably right.             “You’re allowed to breath, you know.” He said as a response to your reaction but you didn’t know what to say anymore. Did you really spend all your time at the academy trying to win a non-existent competition? “Fuck.” You cursed, definitely dumbfounded.

Leon observed you, perplexed and wondering if you were going to stay rooted to the spot for the rest of the day. “Y/N” He waved in front of your face to pull you out from your thoughts but you barely noticed. “All that repressed sexual tension for nothing?” You asked yourself. Wait! Did you just say that out loud?           Panic-stricken, you looked up at Leon and judging by the way he was staring at you – all  ‘what the hell did she just say?’ – yep you did.       “You didn’t hear what I’ve just said.” You waved your hand past his face, like a Jedi would do in a Star Wars movie, knowing perfectly it wouldn’t work but hoping that ridicule would make the situation less awkward and give you a chance to run away from his room. It was a failure. “Yes, I did.”

And just like that, Leon Saint Sucker Son of a Bitch – whatever the S stood for - Kennedy caught your face in his hands and kissed you with a passion that made you gasp against him. You tried to resist for a second but then you decided to let go. After all, you had nothing to lose. The study years could be considered over and soon Leon would be in Raccoon City analysing amazing crimes while you would be God-knows-where writing parking tickets. You would never see each other again.     “Tell that to anyone, Kennedy and I’ll kick your gorgeous butt from here to Raccoon City.” You threatened, close to his mouth. “I won’t. Scout’s honour.” Leon Scout Kennedy? You shook your head (Stop being silly, Y/N!) before pushing Leon on the convertible sofa behind him.  

You straddled him without waiting, definitely willing to let your sudden eagerness and your repressed desire for him get the better of you. You met his lips in a new heated kiss, your body pressed against his, craving for lustful friction. And by the way Leon was holding you tight you could tell you weren’t the only one.             His tongue asked permission to enter your mouth and you happily granted it. Who would have thought that Leon Saint Kennedy was such a skilled kisser? Couldn’t he suck for once? Oh yeah, he could suck at your neck apparently. Damn.   A moan escaped your throat and you felt Leon smirk against your skin. “You like that?” He asked, proud of himself. You instinctively arched your neck asking for more, your hands weaving into his soft hair. “It’s not that bad.” You acknowledged and he suddenly bit you in the nape of your neck. “What the fuck?” You shouted, surprised. Leon laughed and you caught his face to kiss him and bite his lips in retaliation. But judging by the kinky smile on his angelic face, he didn’t seem to mind.             “You’re incorrigible.” You humoured. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” He pecked your lips again and again and slowly began leaving a trail of light kissed down to your neck. “You’d better be. Aren’t you tired of making my life a misery?” You pretended to sulk as he kept on pressing his soft lips on your burning skin. You grabbed his chin, putting you thumb in his dimple and stared at him. How ridiculously hot he was right now with that arousal tinting his beautiful blue eyes and this dishevelled hair.  

“What do you have in mind, Y/N?” Rhetorical question. He knew exactly what you had in mind. Hell, it was basically the same thing he had in his.     “Stop playing coy and take your clothes off.” You whispered close to his face, your hot breath against his mouth, before pulling his bottom lip between your teeth “What about your silly competition?” He murmured back, his hands slowly falling along your sides.   “I’m all in for cooperation right now. So are you gonna give me a hand …” You started unbuckling his belt. “…or do I need to do everything by myself?” His eyes fixed upon yours mischievous ones, gazing at you with awe. You could tell he was completely at your mercy. “I’ll give you more than a hand.” You smirked and allowed your hands to unbutton his jeans. “I thought so.” He lifted his rear and you pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, biting your lips at the view of his beautiful cock. Jesus Christ Kennedy, Mother Nature certainly had been kind to you.

You stood up to undress yourself as well, dropping all your clothes to the floor, your eyes watching at Leon’s hastening hands fighting desperately with the buttons of his shirt. Clearly, you weren’t the only one that was impatient in this room, or horny.   You let him finish before taking your place back on his laps. His hard sex against your body, you slightly shivered, impatience eating you from within. “You’re gorgeous.” He said as he tucked few strands of your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but blush, not used to such compliments, and, as a consequence, in order to erase all sense of discomfort in you (if you could call it like that), you decided to focus your attention on his cock.   You brushed his length with your fingertips, admiring it with envy and lust, excited to do more with it. It made Leon hiss and you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading you. Without looking away from the blueness of his look, you caught his penis in your hand and started pumping it gently. Leon’s eyelids flickered; his head hit the back of the sofa and his mouth opened slightly. He seemed thankful, relieved even. You continued your gesture, watching him melting underneath you, listening to his now ragged breath with delight. God, that was sexy. He was sexy. Leon Sexy Kennedy. Suited him.

You bit your lips and decided to venture in between his legs, kneeling onto the floor. “What are you …” Leon complained when he suddenly stopped feeling you on top of him. You cut him short by guiding his cock to your mouth to softly kiss the pre cum-covered tip “Holy...” The rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat and turned into a growl as you eagerly sucked the head of his cock like a Popsicle. You smiled and licked his length, staring at how ecstatic he looked from this angle. “You like that?” You winked as you quoted him and he laughed. “Women.”   You engulfed his cock deep in your mouth and started bobbing your head. A new sigh of pleasure escaped his mouth and you felt him instantly relax on the couch. “God, you’re amazing.” You liked the compliment and to show your appreciation you decided to massage his balls as you kept on sucking him. You received a lustful grunt in response and soon Leon’s hand grabbed your hair to give you a quicker pace, almost making you gag on him. “Oh, sorry.“ What a gentleman! “That’s okay.” You smiled in a very naughty way. “I like it.” He chortled and you took back his dick in your mouth, welcoming it deeper to show him you didn’t mind some roughness. “You know, if you keep doing this I’m soon going to cum in your mouth.”             You stopped, licked your lips and crawled back onto his lap. “That would be a shame.” You joked sarcastically, hands back in his hair “Got a condom?”

The way you pronounced the words, all smiley and adorable, made him laugh again. He pushed you softly to open the drawer of his nightstand and find your one-way ticket for cloud nine. “There!” He announced excited as he showed you the contraceptive. “But first …” He suddenly grabbed your ankles to pull you towards him, making you slightly yelp in the process. “There’s something I got to do”   He lay down on the couch, spread your legs and immediately nestled his head right in between your thighs, making you instantly shiver. So, that’s what he got to do.   You sighed when you felt his breath against you swollen clit but it was only when his tongue met your pink flesh that you realised how aroused you truly were. You were so wet.           “Fuck, am I the one to blame for such a mess?” He joked but his mouth and tongue felt so good in between your thighs that you could only just moan and arch your back, begging for proper sucking and licking. He didn’t make you wait and gave you what you wanted as he started fondling your clit with his tongue. “Leon” That was the first time you where saying his first name and you got to admit, you liked the sound of it. “Yes, sweetheart?”   “Keep going, please.” You begged and he sucked on your bud, gazing at you melting under his touch as he did. You grasped his hair when he finally let a finger enter your core. Fuck, he was good. You moved your hips instinctively against him and he added a new finger. It sank into you as easily as the first one and you cried out, finding it impossible to be discreet anymore. “Fuck, Leon. I want you. I want you now.” You begged.   “Wait a second.” He asked, definitely loving your taste too much for him to stop just now. He pumped his fingers in your pussy, licking your juices greedily and you clenched your thighs around his head, feeling the imminence of your orgasm slowly yet surely approaching. “Now, Leon. Now! Please”

Leon obeyed this time and he quickly sat up and grabbed the condom he had left on the pillow next to him. He put the red wrapper between his teeth and tore it open. Then he rolled the condom down his length with both his hands. You watched him all the time, your fingers massaging your clit, finding him terribly arousing at this very moment.

Once ready, Leon bent over you to kiss you again and he tapped his hard cock on your hand to ask access to your humid entrance. You didn’t object of course and even spread your legs wider. Soon enough, you felt him slide in between your wet lips and then finally push slowly yet exquisitely inside of you. You closed your eyes as he did and drew a sharp breath once you felt him fully inside. You didn’t need time to adjust to him as if your body was meant for him. Guess Leon felt it too as he immediately took a quick pace and began pounding you. You let your hands wander on his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply gorgeous. Then you grasped his hips, and nudge his rear with your ankles, pressing his pelvis closer to you to take him deeper, and started moaning his name again. His hands caught your bouncing breasts to play with your nipples, and you rapidly felt the strong wave of pleasure back in your core, ready to drown you. “Fuck, Leon!” His mouth met one of your teats and sucked on it with ardour. That was too much to handle. “I think I’m gonna cum.” You cried out.         “Yeah?” You nodded, letting a tear of pleasure escape your eyes. “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice and few seconds later, you dug your nails in his hipbones and screamed loudly as you clenched around his cock, finally coming undone under his thrusts.

Stunned, breathless and at the same time a bit embarrassed that you had already reached your orgasm, you let Leon kiss you soft lips with a smile on his face. “See, you reached the finishing line before me.” He humoured.           “Fuck off.” You whispered, amused yet completely exhausted. He chuckled and pressed his lips against yours one more time before gently pushing you flat on your stomach. “I’m not done with you yet.” He whispered in your ear.  

You moaned loudly when he thrust back into your wet core, pinning you down on the mattress that you ultimately grabbed tightly in order to stay in place. He started pounding you again, holding you by the hips, taking delight in watching your sweet butt bouncing against him as he was burying himself deeper than he had ever done before. “Jesus, Y/N!” He growled before spanking you.         You gasped, astonished but in a good way. You had never thought he was that kind of guy. “Really, Kennedy? Spanking? That’s what the ‘S’ in your name stands for?” He laughed, still fucking you from behind. “I thought you would like it.” “Oh but I do. I just never thought it was your thing.”         “You should stop taking me for a saint, Y/N.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead, brushing the strand of hair covering his right eye away and focused again on his movements. “It’s not my fault. It’s your baby face.” You confessed in between two moans. He brutally stopped and you wondered for a second if what you had just said had actually vexed him.       “My baby face? Really?” He repeated in your ear with a smirk as he grabbed you by the hair. “Who’s been crying out my name the whole time?” Holy shit. You instinctively braced yourself and when he resumed his hammering you knew it was a smart decision. Leon started growling even more loudly as he slowed yet deepened his movements inside of you, his hand in your hair, using your body as leverage. He was almost aggressive but you moaned nevertheless, out of breath, feeling a new orgasm building inside of you. Really? You clenched around him, trying to hold your orgasm a bit longer, unwilling to give him the satisfaction to cum around him again.

When Leon’s hard pounding started to get sloppy you realised he was really close to his release. “Jesus, I’m almost there.” He admitted.         You don’t know how you found the strength to push him on his back but you did. Sitting on top of him, you removed the condom, threw it carelessly onto the floor and started to jerk him off. “I want you to cum on me.” You confessed. A guttural moan vibrated in his throat and he let himself sprawl on the mattress, leaving you in complete charge of his pleasure. You grinded against his cock as your hand kept on firmly going up and down his length. It drove Leon crazy and you soon felt him throbbing in your grip. His breath became even more ragged and jerky and small spasms took control of his body. You angled his cock towards you and soon, a hot load of thick cum spurted on your stomach and breasts as Leon cursed and grunted between his gritted teeth. “Fuck, Y/N!”

You smiled and let go of his member, proud and satisfied of your work, looking at poor panting Leon who had a beautiful yet exhausted smile on his face. “You killed me, woman.” He joked and you briefly laughed. Then, you wiped his cum off your body with your fingers and brought them to your mouth, sucking them eagerly and swallowing the white seed looking right in Leon’s eyes. You had the feeling he would find it very hot. “Jesus Christ” Bull’s eye!

He circled you with his strong arms and pulled you against his chest. His heart was beating wildly and you allowed yourself to huddle a bit more against him to enjoy the melody. Post-coital cuddling session? Not sure that was a good idea but you decided to go for it and so did Leon as he chose to burry his nose in your hair and kiss the top of your head.

“Scott” He whispered sleepily. You looked up, wondering what he meant. “That’s what the ‘S’ stands for. Leon Scott Kennedy.”

Scott? You repeated in your head with a soft smile. Oh well, that didn’t sound so bad even though, right now, you preferred Leon ‘Stay’ Kennedy.

[cauliflowercounty]

Gone Too Far? (Fred Weasley x fem!Reader)

House: Gryffindor

Blood Status: You Choose

Warning: Light swearing, some suggestive moments

A/N: Youre in an established relationship with Fred

——

Fred and George have been on a major hot streak. The pranks were glorious and the castle had been in mayhem for the last week, which the twins basked in gleefully and your heart filled with warmth seeing Fred so happy and satisfied with his schemes.

It was obvious who the pranks had been orchestrated by, but the twins were masters of their craft, working with a couple of other trusted Gryffindors to create air-tight alibis and complex game plans, so it was impossible to provide evidence that it was them other than “of course it was the twins!”

This round of pranks all started when the twins decided to get under the Slytherin team’s skin before the upcoming quidditch match. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin and Draco Malfoy had been targeting Harry as of late to get him off his game.

In order to even the playing field, the twins enchanted all the statues in the castle to shout insults about Draco Malfoy whenever anyone passed them, earning cheers from everyone not in Slytherin. Some of the favorites of the student body were “Draco Malfoy is a deviled old twat” and “Draco Malfoy’s wig is made of treated Sasquatch hair.”

The statues were finally silenced once the statue of the architect of Hogwarts in the front hall shouted that Draco Malfoy was “a bigoted mother fucking daddy’s boy,” which Professor Snape heard loud and clear while discussing the upcoming Quidditch match with Professor McGonagall. Snape quickly silenced the statue and set off to deal with all the others, leaving McGonagall with a small smile on her face.

Next, Fred and George set to messing with the whole team and had sent fraudulent report cards in unmarked envelopes that would read aloud the fake abysmal grades they’d written in them to all the members of the Slytherin quidditch team. Fred and George also sent them to all the Slytherins in Harry’s year for kicks, in order to freak them out, too. This, earned the slytherins a lot of unwanted attention and resulted in all of them wasting about two hours going to their professors, trying to resolve their grades only to find they were fake while Fred and George snickered in the corner and the Gryffindor team booked extra practice time while their opposition was distracted.

Additionally, the twins had charmed all the food at the Slytherin table to turn into ash in peoples mouths and the pumpkin juice to disappear during breakfast among other things.

The last incident was the grandest that had yielded exactly what the twins wanted, but also ended up unintentionally landing you in a 3 week long detention with Snape.

The Slytherin quidditch team had finally been able to book a practice on the Tuesday before the game this upcoming Saturday. The Slytherins has been relieved that they were able to book the pitch since the twins had been putting obstacles in their way for the last week. Their relief was short lived; the twins had arrived at the pitch two hours before Slytherins’ time slot and enchanted all the equipment.

Upon releasing the bludgers, things seemed normal at first until the quaffle started to turn red hot in the chasers’ hands each time someone caught it, causing the player to drop it and yelp in pain.

The bludgers were normal, until Crabbe and Goyle started hitting them. Each time a bludgers came in contact with the bat, the bludgers would split in two. This went unnoticed by the two beaters until all 16 of the bludgers decided to hurl themselves at the team captain, intimately causing him to flee. This resulted in Draco Malfoy losing sight of the snitch, but once he realized what had happened, catching the snitch was the least of his problems.

The snitch on the other hand, had grown to be about a meter in diameter, but it kept its old flight pattern and started to zip around the pitch, cutting into the stands with its wings, which were now blades of destruction. It hurled through the air, nearly knocking all the players off their brooms.

This turn of events made the whole team to abandoned practice and return to the castle and find Professor Snape, knowing full well the twins were behind this. Hopefully Snape would be able to take points at the very least or have them banned at the upcoming match, making the Gryffindor team to have no choice but to forfeit.

As the Slytherins rushed into the changing rooms to escape the gargantuan death snitch, Fred and George popped out from the changing stalls and confunded all of them I order to ensure this couldn’t be traced back to them, making a quick getaway.

After being confunded, none of the Slytherins remembered who was at fault for the outcome of practice, but passed by you studying for Transfiguration on their way to tell Snape what had happened, resulting in you being blamed for the mayhem since you were the last face they saw. This earned your three month detention and lost Gryffindor 50 points.

You knew it had been Fred and George who executed the prank. Most people if they wanted to mess with another team would dye something a different color or perform an easily reversed transfiguration, but charming all the equipment to produce a quidditch practice from hell reeked of Fred Weasley and seeing Fred Weasley’s face after you had your talking to from Professor Snape said it all.

Because of that, you and Fred aren’t talking currently, which was mostly the fault of Fred since he was suddenly to shy to come up and apologize. Maybe it was the look of death you have him after you saw his face? You desperately wanted to talk to him, but he was avoiding you at all costs.

Otherwise, the final days leading up to the game were wonderful. Now, you’re sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, trying to get Harry psyched up.

“Come on, mate,” Ron says, pushing Harry’s plate toward him. “You gotta eat something. I haven’t seen you like this since your first quidditch match ever.”

“I’m just concerned about this time. Malfoy wants blood this time, especially this time since Fred and George have been merciless as of late,” Harry groans, shoving his head into his hands.

“But you gotta admit... Fred and George got him good. That statue moment was priceless,” Ron laughs. “Speaking of Freddie, are you taking with him again, y/n?”

“No,” you reply, “and it’s not my fault. He hasn’t spoken to me since I came out of Snape’s office. It’s too bad. I miss Freddie. I’m not even that mad at him anymore....”

Hermione raises her eyebrows at that comment. “Not mad at him?” she scoffs. “I’m not buying it, y/n. You were livid at him.”

“Well, that was only for 2 seconds. I can’t stay mad at that face,” you sigh, earning a fake barf noise from Ron. You roll you eyes at his reaction. “he did land me in Snape’s detention of all detentions for 3 weeks and lost us all valuable points. Now Ravenclaw is in the lead for house cup,” you explain, “but I’m over that. I want Freddie back.”

You smile, thinking about Fred and your late night conversations in the common room until 3am and the way he families when you laugh at his jokes. You sigh, hoping he’ll get over himself soon.

“Harry, eat something,” you say quickly, eager to change the conversation as you snap out for your day dream. “If you say Draco wants blood, you should eat so he doesn’t have the upper hand to begin with.”

You look over to the Slytherin table and they’re all horking down food like there’s no tomorrow.

“... also I think Crabbe and Goyle just ate a full chicken each,” you whisper, trying to look away from the two slytherin beaters with chicken fat smeared on their hands, face, and uniform. Your friends hiss at the sight and divert their eyes.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Hermione smiles.

“Yeah,” you join in. “You’ve always been the better seeker.”

Harry nods in thanks and returns to his food, eating this time as you all hope for victory this afternoon.

~

“HARRY POTTER HAS SEEN THE SNITCH! He’s gaining in it and- Ooh! Draco Malfoy has just rammed into him from the side, pushing Potter off course! Now he’s after the snitch- Malfoy should really learn to find the snitch himself, lazy ass-“

“JORDAN!” McGonagall scolds angrily, glaring at Lee.

“Sorry, Professor! It just comes out!” Lee defends, but McGonagall shoots him a look of pure irritation. Turning back to the game, Lee stammers, “I-I mean... it won’t happen again! Potter and Malfoy are neck and neck! Fred Weasley deflects a bludgers header for his seeker! And now the seeker go into a dive! This is gonna be close!”

“GO HARRY!!” You shout as you watch Harry plummet towards the ground, swiftly pulling up inches above the ground.

The seekers fly forward, arms outstretched. From behind, a bludgers heads for Malfoy, knocking him forwards off his broom. As he falls, Malfoy grabs onto Harry’s robes and pulls him down to the ground with him. Both of them hit the ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust on impact. A resounding chorus of oohs euros from the crowd. That must have hurt.

“And the seekers WIPE OUT!” Lee shouts, nearly leaning over the edge of the stands too far in order to get a good look.

As the dust clears, the crowd mourners and a figure emerges. It’s Harry, holding the fluttering, struggling snitch between his fingers.

The Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw stands erupt in joyous cheers at Slytherin’s loss. Groans and angry shouts fill the Slytherin stands as Draco Malfoy, holding his arm limps forward and angrily kicks his broomstick, bitter and jealous of Harry basking in the glory of a Gryffindor victory.

You sneak a look at your Freddie. He’s bumping bats with George, a gleeful smile on his face, knowing his pranks and psychological warfare paid off. Fred looks down to the stands, and his eyes scan for you. You smile as you lock eyes. A dopey grin breaks in his face as he realizes that your smile is directed at him. You wave to him, calling him over as the Gryffindors next to you clear stands to get to the after party in the common room that’s sure to last late into the night with streamers, confetti, loud radio music, and endless butter beer.

“Hi, Freddie,” you call as he pulls up in front of you on his Cleansweep.

“Hi..,” he respond, a little on edge since this is the first time he’s said anything to you in days. Fred knew it was wrong to ghost you after the incident, but the longer he waited, the harder it got to say something to you again. “Y/n- I’m so-”

You giggle as he starts. “It’s okay, Freddie. I’m not mad anymore,” you explain with a comforting look.

“Please! I just messed up and I didn’t know that the charm would-”

“Fred! I’m not mad at you! You don’t need to make a speech!” You clarify, reaching out to him. Surprised, he nods and touches down in the stands next to you. He demounts and sits next to you. Folding his hands into yours, you lean on his chest and he smiles at the closeness. He’d missed you more than he’s care to admit.

“How come you’re not mad at me? I landed you in detention.. with Snape!” he says, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Don’t remind me,” you shush, putting a finger to his lips. “All I wanted was a quick apology from you. Detention is a small price to pay.”

“You you think Georgie and I went overboard?” He asks you. “With the pranks?”

“If you didn’t go overboard, I’d be concerned,” you joke, learning you a small kiss. “It’s not like you to just half-ass a prank.”

“How do you even stand all my nonsense?” he asks, pulling you closer to him.

“It’s one of my many talents,” you quip. “And I love you. Now, go get changed, Mister Weasley. You smell like quidditch and we should be heading to the common room to celebrate your victory.”

He nods and grabs his broom.

“Come on,” he says, motioning for you to climb on behind him. You look at him incredulously. “I’m not letting you walk down all those stairs when it’s easier for you to hop on as I fly to the changing rooms. Get on, love. I don’t bite.”

“You,” you start, pointing at him, “know that’s an absolute lie, Fred Weasley. Remember that one time in that broom cupboard? And you just couldn’t-”

“Of course not! I cold too forget that,” Fred interrups, with a smirk. “I also happened to remembered we both agreed on a continuation of that encounter, but a follow up never happened...”

“Okay, okay, Freddie. Later,” you smile, climbing into the broom behind him and wrapping your arms around him. With a hearty Fred Weasley laugh he kicks off and you both fly off towards the changing rooms where he drops you off. As he heads in to change, you call to him that you’ll wait for him.

He shouts back, “no need to, love!”

You wait anyway. He smiles as he comes out with disheveled hair from changing, spotting you. He told his eyes as if to say “I can’t believe you waited again,” even though he loves that you sit and wait for him, and he takes your hand as you place a kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss immediately and holds you closely.

Breaking away reluctantly, you whisper “never leave me alone like that ever again, Freddie.”

“I don’t plan on it, y/n,” he smiles back, packing your cheek and pulling you toward the castle for the Gryffindor house party.