#I imagined him wearing mostly red at first.. i did not have the whole color meaning thing at this point

[homosexualcitron]

First art of Olive // 8 months later

Ouurg you're doing so good Olive ily

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

I can't design or draw properly, so I'll try to explain in detail how I imagine Tenko's pro-hero suit:

First of all, he dresses mostly in black in honor of Eraser Head and Nana Shimura. One of them is his favorite pro-hero and the other is the pro-hero who inspired them to join UA.

Although he does wear black to pay tribute to his biggest inspirations, there's a deeper reason to his choice. With such a dangerous quirk, Tenko was assigned as a rescue specialist. He should avoid fighting at all costs. He's also been encouraged to create new alternatives for himself, which he did.

Tenko's priorities as a pro-hero are endurance, adaptability and stealth. His motto is that if you can resists long enough, you can beat anything.

Black is the color of those who don't want to be noticed until it's too late. Perfect to blend in and perfect for someone like Tenko, who relies on the fact people normally don't pay attention to him. He's been told he looks really creepy, more like a villain than a pro-hero. Tenko doesn't really care. There are a hundred other flashy heroes with equal flashy quirks to admire. All he wants to do are the jobs that no one else takes, no one else wants, no one else wonders about.

Tenko's suit covers him almost completely, from the elastic like high neck that covers his scratches to the boots designed to make his steps silent. He asked the base of his pro-hero suit to be made of a tight yet flexible material, with thicker parts to protect his vital zones. He relies on his speed and range of motion during attacks and rescues, so he needed a suit light yet resistant to any possible scratch or wound from debris and other objects around him. As a rescue specialist, he can't allow himself to go down. The suit is also designed so Tenko can decay parts of it without decaying the whole, in case of emergency.

The cape is what gave him his pro-hero name and the most distinguishable detail of him.

The inside of it is fashioned to look like the wings of a moth. Outside, it is black and fire resistant. On the inside, it has a kaleidoscope of pearlish hues of purple and red, with a plush feeling to the touch. Since his suit is already creepy (you'll see why), Tenko decided to add something to bring comfort to the victims in his rescue missions, something that would also protect them from the damage of a danger zone. The best secret of it is that the cape are in fact two pieces of clothing superposed at the collar, like a wing folding on each other. They are big enough for him to cocoon a person inside of it if he needed to.

Tenko doesn't use his cape often in battles. Most of the time, he's quick to leave it with the heroes managing the safety zone for the civilians to use or he waves them to call civilians to follow him.

When he uses the cape in battles tho, he's one of the most insufferable beings alive. Combined with his other gear, he shields himself from explosive or fire quirks with the capes, he obscures the field view of his enemies or camouflages himself for a sneak attack. He tries not to get them damaged, since the repairing / manufacturing process can last weeks and he'd be a bit defenseless 'til then.

From afar he doesn't look much different from the Tomura we know at the beginning of the manga: A young man dressed in black, mopey blue hair covering the scars around his eyes. It'd be very funny to see him evolve from an awkward teen in a "creepy butterfly suit" to an actual pro-hero who fills up the suit and the expectations.

If you need some visual reference, his pro-hero suit looks a lot like the outfit he used when he woke up on the War arc. The difference is that this one doesn't have the armor parts on the legs.

Now, my favorite part: hero gear and details!!!!!!

So far I think the suit is too simple. The cape is great, but I've already said he doesn't use it a lot, right? You know how the UA class 1A kids have special gear for special missions? Think of the cape as that.

The gloves are an obvious choice.

They're not to regulate his quirk, despite what you all might think. Tenko has perfect control over his quirk, he's grown used to using only four fingers and can switch without problem between safety mode and action mode, how he likes to call the four fingers vs five fingers grip.

The gloves are to protect his hands from the materials he handles during a rescue mission. He is often dealing with ruined sites full of glass and debris. He also comes in contact with multiple toxic elements or dangerous surfaces, such as the hot metal of doors, for example.

My absolute favorite hero gear is his belt, tho.

Since Tenko cannot fight using his own quirk (he must not decay the villains of course), he invented his own version of Aizawa's scarf:

Positioned at the extremes of a retractable chain, there are hands that work like grappling hooks. By throwing one hand at a certain surface (ex. maybe a windowsill or a balcony), Tenko can make that hand close around the object and attach the other extreme of the chain (the other hand) to himself, using the retractive function to move from one point to the other. Other usages range from the creation of safety perimeters on a catastrophe zone, restraining villains, catching objects far away from the user, to the ability to combine them to create webs capable of breaking the fall of a person, etc etc etc.

They're Tenko's primary tools both during rescue missions and active fights.

Compared to Aizawa's scarf, the chains are not as unbreakable and they come separately, instead of in one piece. Tenko shares with Aizawa and Nana Shimura the fact that he uses mostly his human abilities to fight, relying on their quirks only to take advantage of the situations. Still, Nana and Aizawa adapted their styles to make the most out of their usual territories (for Nana it was the skies and for Aizawa, urban sites).

The advantages of the hand chains include being able to use them separately, being more intuitive to use than Aizawa's scarf, actually being able to punch people lol and of course, being creepy.

Tenko has used them before to lure villains to his traps. By placing them strategically, it looks like there is someone around the corner or under the rubble. He has also used them as cupholders...

Unlike the hands we know from the manga, these open and close so as to mold their form to any surface. They don't have a golden base and the tubes covering the chains are transparent, with a finish that makes it shine like spiderwebs under the sun. They fist on Tomura's belt with the chain retracted, hanging on his sides, next to the back pouch that has his first aid kit and mask.

The general opinion is that the moth pro-hero is creepy as hell. He's pretty obscure, following the path of Nana and Aizawa, but it balances nicely Hana's popularity as the butterfly hero!!

Hana inherited the floating quirk from their grandma. She dresses brightly in yellow (taken from Nana) and purple (taken from Midnight) with details in black (to match Tenko). I imagine her cape being longer and butterfly-like, just one piece unlike Tenko's. She's probably a fight type, maybe more of an important side quick??? She is probably very popular because she's really pretty and daring.

Tenko and Hana are like the bugs pro-heroes lol.

Anyway, that's exactly how I imagine Tenko. It can look a little goofy at the start, just like when Izuku first wore his suit. Yet, combining the moth suit with Tenko's later white long hair and physique?? Now, that's the cryptid feeling I'm talking about.

[sterlingarcher23]

Max's memories are forshadowing: ElMax & Lumax

Inventive foreshadowing creates a sense of unity in a story even when the audience may not be consciously aware of the foreshadowing and payoff., David Trottier

Sort of. The happy memories actually give us the basic structure of Max's character arc in regards to relationships in Season 5. (As far as there is scene material because I think there's something else.)

Now the first thing is Lucas & Max from S4, but then they start to show us several scenes but completely out of order.

Lucas "I'm right here" (at her bedside - S4 or 5?), Swallowing the red Skittle/the ghost like Pac-Man mid flight ("You were wearing that yellow benny's burgers t-shirt and it was so big it almost swallowed you whole")=consumption of a ghost, followed by the linking sequence, going back to S2 apso out of order, the boys meeting the killer & Lucas and Dustin teaming with Max, the ghost trap, photos of ElMax, like frozen in time (Doctor Who=single moment in time). Lucas and Max when he calls her Madmax (like Mad Max Rockatansky), again ElMax together ....

...even Mike appears (a talk between him & Max like Kota and Lucy having a conversation?), foreshadowing the movie date, ElMax hugging, Lumax not unhappy and, Highfive! Winners.

Lover in the mind - lover in the physical world.

Lucas speaks to the dying (physical), El speaks to the going (mind).

Both have patterns that need another verse in order to rhyme bc of a tiny change midway through (similar to a certain D&D bridge puzzle😉)

Elumax Endgame.

Byler on the left, ElMax on the right, both when Will or Max respectively, have their possession phase.

Oh, and the movie date scene is a basic story writing technique: a promise. And this needs a payoff. The question isn't IF but HOW. (And how you get abilities is been established in Season 4.)

It's you and me won't be unhappy.... Promise, progress, payoff.

So, they made a promise, are now (with the revival) in the process of a progress which will be added through the way how Max will wake up....

...and this will get a payoff. Simple. Right now, most can't imagine how, given the circumstances even though the writers gave us the rules for doing it and every foreshadowing possible that will lead to a payoff. Max can't feel nor see - both! So, either both will be mended or none. Excluding one is bad writing. - So, its both. We learned how, therefore it's not a Deus ex machina, and we will learn why. Max only needs to take his, I mean her medicine. Darn pronouns.

That payoff is only possible through ElMax and note how they use sequences with them in which they are physically close to one another after the mall scene in which they link, like they are...inseparable.

Here separated...

...after this they are combined. Linked. "Love goes through the stomach"

It's all One and One for all = 11

A bit dated (admittedly)

[selfship-shenanigans]

what does a normal day look like for ray and ganon? since theyre a certified evil couple, do they enjoy doing “evil” things together or do they keep that separate from each other? what is a color associated with both of them? do you like thinking about more fluffy things with them or do you enjoy more angsty things? what would they do if the other started acting strange?

- @freakkisser

Ahhh tysm for all the questions!! <3 <3

On a normal day, Ganondorf is a pretty busy person. Ruling an entire kingdom is no small task, after all. Most of his day is taken up with paperwork, meetings with his soldiers, exercise and combat training, and lots of planning and strategising. He has to keep the rest of Hyrule, especially the Hylians, under control and keep crushing their rebellions in order to maintain his hold on the kingdom. Meanwhile, Ray lives a fairly normal day-to-day life. They don't actually need to work, because as royalty, they get to live in luxury at Ganondorf's side. But they enjoy what they do, so they continue their work as a tailor like they did back in Castle Town before Ganondorf took over. Most of their clients now are Gerudo, although the occasional Hylian who's brave (or stupid) enough will do business with Ray as well. But the two of them don't let their work keep them apart - they often spend time together just doing their own thing but in close proximity (think 'parallel play'), and Ray often helps out with Ganondorf's side of things, particularly when it comes to dealing with Hylian rebellions against his rule. As a Hylian themself, Ray's insight is invaluable to Ganondorf. But once all the work is over with, they spend a lot of their free time together as well, and they always have dinner together, whether in their chambers or in the castle's huge dining hall. Then at night, it's cuddles galore~

As for the second question, I kinda explained this in the previous answer, but Ray is as involved in Ganondorf's "evil" side of things as much or as little as they want to be. But they are well and truly on his side, and they want to be of as much help to him as they can, so they aren't afraid to involve themself. Besides, they already have a long history of participating quite enthusiastically in Ganondorf's "evil" plans. It was thanks to Ray that Ganondorf was able to take over Hyrule Castle in the first place, and they fought alongside him and the Gerudo soldiers, even taking out a few of their fellow Hylians in the process. They've already gotten their hands dirty for him.

I associate Ganondorf with a bright red colour, mostly because of his hair and cape. For Ray, there isn't really a specific colour that I associate with them a whole lot, but I guess if I had to pick one, it would be blue because that's the colour of the tunic they normally wear.

As for fluff or angst, I like both, but I imagine more fluff. It's a selfship and I want to enjoy it, so I like to imagine a lot of soft, domestic cuteness. Plus it's just kind of funny to imagine Ganondorf in any kind of domestic setting, considering that we only ever see him when he's in the middle of being evil in the actual game. This big, strong, powerful guy who could kill someone with a look if he wanted to, snuggled up on a couch with his tiny Hylian spouse in his arms? Yes fucking please. Not to mention that Ray, like myself, is multiply disabled, so thinking about Ganny being understanding and accommodating and loving Ray anyway just... feels really nice, even if it isn't very in-character.

[solradguy]

DI sol tier list???

I love DI Sol sooooooooo much. This list will be from least to most favorite:

6

Original Flavor Dragon Install: Not a whole lot of art for the early era of Sol's Gear form. I suspect that maybe Daisuke hadn't decided how far he wanted to push the design yet, or that maybe it was limited by the technology of the time. This illustration is the only one that has more going on than just white eyes. Note that he still has the suppressor headband on.

5

HOS DI: Tail

4

Xrd/Strive era: I've talked about this design a lot and how very close it is to being incredibly cool. Unfortunately, it's kinda goofy. No pants? Where'd his nose go? Why does the middle horn have jiggle physics. The glowy effect they did for his body is cool and I like that his head being almost solidly black is reminiscent of the brief moment you see him in silhouette in the older games when he installs, but I get the impression that this design might have been rushed. It uses the same jacket Sol wears in the story mode and the lack of pants is just way too funny.

3

Vastedge: This is another one where I used to feel like it was just missing something when I first saw it, and then I saw how it looked in the actual Vastedge animations and it changed my mind. It's pretty good, I'd like to draw it some day. This one being low on the list comes down entirely to personal taste. I like detailed designs more and this one is mostly a solid black silhouette. (note: the red hair/wings and cyan belts are placeholder colors in the concept art).

2

The Begin design: LA CREATURA. Ok I know he's just red and spooky in this design and that's super generic, especially with it being ABOVE the Vastedge design, but I think it's a good case of "less is more." The atmosphere of it makes it. Look at how he's clinging to the mirror in the second picture. Can you imagine that sprinting at someone at like 120mph and then bisecting them with his bare hands like they're a friggin loaf of bread??? This design would never work in the games, but it's perfect for the biological horror theme of Begin.

1

OVERTURE DRAGON INSTALL SOL: God what a FREAK. I love this design so much. It's the only one that has any design motif similarities with other (non-humanoid) Gears we've seen, with the big chompy teeth and more draconic silhouette, while also having aspects that would return in the Xrd/Strive design. It's so MEATY. AND it has 5 eyes?!? If they combined this design with the Xrd/Strive one, we'd get the coolest DI design Sol's ever had.

He just straight up throws away his sword for this giant beam of fire that's so long it clips into the ground when he walks:

[cybersixed]

wasn't expecting this to get notes at all and we're at 40 damn ok y'all liked the dudes I guess? thank you 💜

just for that here's some thoughts I had while making them, I didn't go hardcore Overthink Every Detail like I do other character designs but I still had some ideas while making them

First up Hippie Dude (let's call him that)

As you can probably notice Hippie Dude has dark roots on his hair! Idk why but I thought it'd be funny if there was a Dude that wasn't naturally a red head

I also wanted there to be another Dude with long hair bc that fucking slaps hardcore and I also thought it fit the aesthetic

I also thought it'd be sorta funny to have a Postal Dude be a hippie guy, sort of a dichotomy between who he is and what he looks like. Yes he still kills people, he's a Postal Dude after all. Maybe grew up in a hippie doomsday cult like the one in the movie???? idk

Also, steel toed boots are a detail I put 100% on purpose! idk sort of the idea that he should be a Peaceful guy but you look at the boots and you're like? why do you need those? he has those for Kicking People In Their Dicks

Also his sunglasses have a golden frame idk if that's noticeable, just a little detail

Main inspirations for him were P1 Dude and Movie Dude, P1 mostly for the coat and hair while the color scheme resembles more that of Movie Dude's last outfit in the movie... wanted him to have lighter more "cheery and happy" colors

Cowboy Dude

In my head he definitely exists in a different time period y'know.... in actual cowboy times

Darker hair bc... idk I just felt like it fit him

Idk if it's too noticeable but he's got real messy facial hair, doesn't give a damn

Smiley face pin replaced with a horseshoe because well duh that didn't exist back then, Catholicism did however LMAO

He's holding his stupid cowboy hat because I couldn't draw it on his head correctly or without hiding his hair so don't @ me for it

Yes I looked up a ref of a typical cowboy pistol bc I ain't no bitch, forgot to draw a proper holster for it tho just pretend it's there, please?

Yes he's got the spurs yes he's got a whole horse he rides around, probably a whole what's called...caravan? carriage? I don't remember the english word rn but I assume he'd have an equivalent to regular Dude's trailer home bc this bitch does NOT stay in one place

Main inspirations were P1 Dude and P3 Dude, as evident by the use of black and red and other warm tones on the entire design

Punk Dude

I had to, what can I say?

Def spends about an hour spiking his hair everyday

Idk why but I imagined him being younger than the prior 2 Dudes, not a teenager by any means but definitely not in his 30's either

I wanted him to have very immature and childish vibes idk if that's reflected too well

Also wanted him to have 2000's vibes which I hope are there

Cross pin is replaced by an anarchist symbol pin because he is a god hating demon (that's a joke)

Probably gets his piercings infected more than once because he doesn't take proper care of them like the jackass he is

Looked up a ref for a gun for this one as well but I also just kinda winged it a bit 🤷ehhh

Main inspiration was P2 Dude, went as far as sorta replicating his color scheme which to me is sorta more blue-ish than the other dudes as well as doing a direct parallel to his alien t-shirt but... with a skull because duh what else should it be? ... he'd wear a shadow the hedgehog shirt tbh

Japanese Delinquent Dude

I know it's got a genre/style name but I for the life of me can't remember it right now.. is it bancho??? Bancho Dude?????

He mostly exists because I thought it'd be FUCKING HILARIOUS and I was RIGHT and I will NOT listen to anyone saying it isn't

Dude should have a katana as a weapon, I rest my case

Also think that dude with a pompadour is both funny and sick as hell but I am highly biased as I love pompadours a huge amount

His trench coat sorta blended in perfectly for the sort of design a lot of delinquent characters had/have

Just like Punk Dude, Delinquent Dude is younger than the first 2 Dudes I mean it's obvious from the moment his outfit is based on the stylized version of old Japanese school uniforms

Was inspired by the biased things I mentioned before but also by the actual Postal 1 levels where Dude is... in Japan??? for some reason??? And I thought a scenario fully utilizing that for comedic and violent purposes would be entertaining

If he had his own game I think it'd be cool if it was like- a fast paced beat em up with monsters and it needs to be the most bizarre anime bullshit in it possible, I'm talking Godzilla, I'm talking a level where he just gets Isekai'd, I'm talking his girl classmates have purple hair and shit and go kyaaaa and Dude is just standing there like "This fucking sucks, why am I here?" they also call him "Dude-kun" because duh

This Dude isn't Japanese he's just IN Japan for seemingly no reason, maybe he was fucking adopted who knows????????

Main inspiration was P2 dude as well as characters like Mondo from the first Danganronpa game and Yusuke and Kuwabara from Yu Yu Hakusho as well as a bit of JoJo inspiration. Debated drawing the pompadour differently but I ultimately thought it'd look funnier this way

That's it for my rambling at least for now, idk if I'll ever draw them again?????? Didn't really intend to make ocs, I mostly just wanted to mess around and see how malleable Dude's design was if that even makes sense to anyone but myself

If you like them and would wanna see more of them then please let me know, I work best with encouragement 👍

I passed out and before I knew it I made up 4 whole Dudes and I don’t know what to do with them, they’re an invasive species after all

[personasintro]

friendly dates | knj drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; friendly dates sound nice... but without the friend part it'd sound even better, too bad you're too scared to face your feelings

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, idiots to lovers au

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3.7+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned anonymously!

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

“So where are you going for tonight's date?”

You're in the middle of trying one of the long dresses you own when your best friend speaks up from behind you, sprawled on your bed while looking at you in the reflection of your big mirror.

You give her a look, cocking your head to the side as you look at yourself again. The dress is pretty, you actually haven't worn it out yet. You've never had the opportunity since you ordered them only a week ago.

“It's not a date,” you inform her, glancing at your friend who has a subtle grin on her face. You're not surprised to hear her calling it a date, she always does this. “How do I look?”

Turning around, she eyes your outfit and overall make-up before she, like every good friend, tells you how beautiful you look. “For a usual hang out with him, you certainly do invest a lot of time and money to look perfect.”

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips in annoyance. “Namjoon and I are just friends. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she says back, snorting as you sport a deep scowl on your face. “Friends don't go out every Friday and weekend to a freaking museum or hang out in a bookstore, Y/N. I'm telling you, this is not just casual hanging out with your friend. We both know you've a thing for him and he certainly has a thing for you.”

You didn't know it's possible, but your scowl gets even deeper. Even though you've never admitted that you've a thing for Namjoon, your best friend knows you and no matter how subtle you're trying to act and appear all the time, she just knows. It's not that hard to tell. But Namjoon has never made any move and even though you don't like the stereotypical thought of men always doing the first move, this is more about your fear of getting rejected. Also, you don't think he has a thing for you.

Sure, he pays for your food or drinks whenever you hang out, no matter how many times you scold him for it. One time he borrowed you his jacket because it was late at night and it was freaking freezing. Namjoon has done many things that made your heart even weaker for him. But he's nice to everyone and you don't doubt he wouldn't do all these things to another girl. As much as it hurts, it's true.

And the fact he has never even hinted at the possibility of him liking you in a more serious way than just a friend who he likes to attend museums, art galleries or just casually hanging out in a bookstore or a library. As far you know, he doesn't have that many friends that share the same love for books and art like he does.

You both just clicked. You have the same interests and you hang out because you like spending time together. He's easy-going and you making plans with him almost every weekend has become a certainty. But of course, there are times when one of you can't hang out and that's completely fine.

“Well,” you clear your throat, straightening the casual yet elegant dress. “We're exactly that. Just two friends.”

“Oh, so you don't like him?” She presses. You know what she's trying to do, but you won't give her that satisfaction of being right.

“I like him… as a friend.” you point out, voice getting slightly deeper when you add the friend part.

You watch her narrow her eyes, thinking about something for a moment before she grins at you. “So you wouldn't mind if I told you I like Namjoon?”

Without realizing, you automatically tense and if you weren't so focused on the uncomfortable feeling in your chest, you'd notice the way the corners of her lips twitch.

“Since when do you like him like that?” You decide to exclaim, slightly louder than you intended.

Just like you, your best friend is easy-going too and has no problem hanging out with whoever. Even though museums and art galleries aren't her thing, or anything that you and Namjoon enjoy the most, she hung out with you and Namjoon a couple of times when you weren't exactly doing that. She'd sometimes join and none of you really minded it.

Her and Namjoon get along pretty well, but you've never noticed anything suspicious or something that could hint at her liking him that way. It definitely doesn't feel nice to hear her say it. She knows how you feel, she just wants to hear you say it. But you're stubborn and there's still a slight chance she might like him.

You mean… it's Namjoon after all.

“Why do you look so surprised? Maybe I do like him like that. I thought you liked him and well, like any good best friend, I just backed off. I mean… I'm not the one who's invited to art galleries and museums.”

“Art galleries and museums aren't even your thing.” you murmur, ignoring the jealousy bubble in your stomach.

“Did you just ignore everything I said? Hello,” she sings out, “I like Namjoon!” she exclaims and you stare at her dumbfounded, blinking a couple times. Trying to detect any emotion on her face, or whether she's serious or not, is hard and almost impossible because she just stares at you.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask her nonchalantly. “You want to hear that yes, I like him but I'm too scared to admit it because there's a high chance he doesn't like me like that? The last thing I want is to ruin our friendship.”

And then, slowly but surely, you see her corners twitching in a pleasant grin. “Yes, I actually wanted to hear that exactly.”

She got you. Oh my god. You can't believe it was this easy for her to make you admit it out loud. Your face heats up and you uncomfortably shift on your spot, but then you're met with her amused eyes and grin all over again.

So you grab the first thing you get your hands on, the other dress you had prepared as a back-up in case the ones you're wearing right now wouldn't be it, and you throw it at your best friend who starts cackling.

“Was that so hard to admit it?” she laughs, catching your dress and placing them next to her. She sits up, calming down as her features soften at your huffed face. “Look… first of all, I don't like Namjoon that way. You guys just fit together perfectly, it's hard to imagine someone else having that spark like the two of you have. However… how do you know there won't be someone who really likes Namjoon in the future? I don't mean to scare you, that's the last thing I want. But you should look at it from another side. Maybe telling him how you feel will make things easier.”

“Yeah, or worse.” you murmur.

She sighs, cocking her head slightly at you. “You never know if you won't try it. Trust me, I know Namjoon likes you. I can't say I'm hundred percent sure how things could end up, but I think it's worth a try. He's worth a try. Don't you think?”

“It's intimidating,” you admit, “I'm not the type to admit my feelings, especially not to a man when he's...” Perfect, attentive, friendly, cute, handsome, kind… “Him.”

“I don't want you to get hurt, Y/N. And I know seeing him with someone else might hurt even more than a rejection.”

You get the feeling she's right, even though you don't like hearing it.

“Oh my, look!”

You almost flinch at the loud and excited voice coming from Namjoon. You barely get the time to react when your wrist is gently grabbed by him as he's pulling you towards another room. He's gushing over the art and once you make it there, you finally realize why.

The room is filled with multiple paintings (of course) but the only difference is, that each painting is centred with each color. From bright white to dark colors such as burgundy and black. Yellow, green, red, pink, purple, blue… so many different colors. The whole room looks like a rainbow, each painting different and interesting.

“Wow,” you let out, completely amazed because it's not just very colorful but also eye-pleasing for everyone's eyes.

When you glance at Namjoon, his mouth is opened and eyes shining with complete amazement. He lets go of your wrist, leaving you slightly disappointed but it's not like you expected him to hold you there more than necessary.

You both move to the first painting, admiring the white art that portrays something like clouds and apparently wings that Namjoon notices and comments.

You're equally interested in Namjoon and his own comments, always finding his opinion and own take very interesting, just as you're interested in the art itself. Between doing this, your own mind is sometimes wandering off to a different topic and that is – your best friend's words from earlier. You can't help it, every time you hear him or look at him, it's like her words scream inside your mind.

It leaves you more quiet than usual, you mostly let Namjoon talk and hum to whatever he says. You're both standing in front of blue painting – an art that portrays most things when you think of the color blue. Water, waves, even air… all of those things can be seen in the very impressive painting. You like it, however that's the only thing that leaves your mouth as you glance at Namjoon, finding him already staring at you.

Your eyes automatically widen, surprised by his furrowed brows and even more when he lets out a silenced sigh, although you hear it very clearly.

“You don't like this, do you?” he suddenly asks, leaving you even more shocked. But before you can clarify or even ask him what does he mean by asking this, he's already talking again. “I know it's not a fancy art gallery. These paintings are painted by artists that aren't that much recognized. A lot of students actually painted most of these. Profits from the tickets are going straight to those artists, students included.”

You listen to him ramble, cheeks slightly going red when his chest heaves from how quickly he said it without taking a breath.

“No, no, I like this. I really like this art gallery,” you assure him quickly, “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Can I be honest?” he asks sweetly as usual, eyes flickering to you almost worriedly as you nod. He sighs again, fingers brushing his soft honey hair. “You're quieter than usual. I can't explain it, I feel like there's something wrong.”

Attentive as always, you're surprised and not actually surprised at the same time. Of course, he noticed there's something wrong. You're not sure whether you should be touched by that gesture or be embarrassed he figured it out.

“I… I'm sorry,” you murmur, hanging your head low for a moment before you sigh too, looking back at him. “It's not your fault… I'm just… I really like it here, okay? Please don't think I don't. I'm sorry, I'm awful right now. You bought us these tickets and I just ruined--”

“Hey,” he cuts you off softly, stepping closer as he respectfully places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently. “You haven't ruined anything. You can be honest with me… or don't be. I just want to know if you're okay. If you're not feeling it tonight, we can just take a rain-check or--”

“No,” you cut him off this time, cheeks flushing at how quick you bursted those words. “I mean--I'm really happy to be here tonight. I just talked to Amia about something and that kinda got stuck in my head.”

“Did you guys have a fight?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry as you chuckle and shake your head.

You look him in the eyes, heart softening right away as you still hear her words echoing in your head. Maybe you could tell him what bothers you without telling him he's a part of it.

“No, we didn't,” you smile, bracing yourself to finally tell him the truth. Half truth, more likely. “There's just this one guy I like… and I'm kinda scared to tell him that. Amia keeps telling me I should tell him before it's too late.”

“Oh,” he lets out, dropping his hand off your shoulder immediately as he looks a little baffled. Your smile drops at that. “You like someone?”

“Yes,” You. However, you don't finish it as he gives you a slight smile. “It's stupid… I just don't know what to do.”

“Well,” he smiles again, although you don't find it honest and sweet as usual. He takes a step back, glancing at the painting as he shrugs. “You'll think of something.”

And with that he turns around and walks to another painting, leaving you with a cracking heart and open mouth.

One thing is sure… at least you didn't tell him it's him you were talking about. Because then your heart wouldn't be just cracking but it'd actually break from such a reaction

Despite what happened, the rest of your “hanging out” is going smoothly. Namjoon keeps his main focus on the paintings and just like before, you hum in response and smile his way whenever he looks at you. But you still feel a slight uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You're not sure if you're ready to cry or not… You guess you'll find out once you get back home.

Once you're about to leave, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, to which Namjoon responds to a light and friendly “of course”. He waits for you in the lobby, fishing out his phone from the pocket of his coat in the meantime. You don't spend that much time in the restroom, you quickly do your business and join Namjoon.

You spot him almost immediately, seeing him turned with his back to you as he has a phone clutched to his ear. You stay silent, not wanting to interrupt him but you want to make your presence known, but before you can actually walk around him for him to see you, you catch a glimpse of his conversation with whoever is on the other line.

“No, it's not a date,” he groans silently. You see him lift his arm and you guess he uses it to rub his face frustratedly. “It's just… a friendly date, alright? Look, she likes someone.”

Your breath catches in your throat and for a second, you're sure you forgot how to breathe as you listen to his conversation.

“No, it's okay… I didn't exactly make it known. No, seriously. Taehyung stop--we're just friends. Nothing else.”

You bite onto your lower lip, hearing Namjoon bidding a goodbye to his friend. You take that opportunity to quickly take a few steps and stop beside him when he notices your presence. He flinches, staring at you with big eyes as he looks around himself.

“Sorry, it was Tae…” he lets out. You're not sure why he is apologizing. “He actually recommended this art gallery to me.”

He is rambling.

But you just stare at him, not really sure what to make out of his phone call. There's no doubt he was talking about you, but you're kind of puzzled what to think of it. He looks nervous, you notice right away when he keeps glancing from your eyes whenever your eye contact exceeds five seconds.

“How--how much did you hear?” he asks suddenly, gulping slightly.

You realize he knows you must've heard something. You can't see yourself, you don't even realize your features are scrunched in confusion but curiosity at the same time, but Namjoon sees it all and he almost cringes when he asks you about the phone call.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you apologize immediately, giving him a crooked smile. “I didn't hear much if that's what you're scared of. I mean… you haven't said anything that we both already didn't know.”

“What?” he breathes out.

“Well, you said we're just friends, right? That's what we are… and this,” you motion with your finger between you and him and around you, “Is just a friendly date.”

Your features turn sour, betraying you as Namjoon narrows his eyes and scans your face. He's always been very smart and you can already see the wheels turning in his head. Or it’s the bitter chuckle you let out that makes him think that you do sound almost hurt to hear him say that.

And when he looks up, the look he gives you almost scares you (not because he looks mad or something) but because he looks as if he already knows what you’re thinking. The possibility scares you and you curse at yourself for opening your mouth. You should’ve kept it shut while you had the chance.

“Somehow, you don’t seem too pleasant with that.” he tells gently, tilting his head slightly which makes your throat dry.

“With what?” you mutter. You’re stalling, knowing he already caught onto that but you act as if you didn’t know.

“With me saying that we’re just friends and this is a friendly date,” he still answers. “Would it be too bad if I said I’d be more happy without that friendly part?”

Wait—

“What?” you breathe out, eyes widening immediately. Did you hear him right?

“You know why Taehyung called me? Do you want to know what he told me?” he asks, chuckling a little at the end as he doesn’t wait for your answer. “He was trying to encourage me to tell you the truth. But I told him I can’t do that because there’s someone else in your life that you like.”

“And what is the truth, Joon?” you almost whisper, figuring out where this is going and you can’t believe it — not until you hear him say it out loud and confirm your deepest desire.

“Come on, you’re smart. You already know.” he offers softly, giving you a pained smile.

“Maybe I do want to know,” you ponder for a moment, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I like you, Y/N. A lot. And I’m a freaking coward for not telling you sooner and for always backing away whenever I had the chance to tell you how I feel.”

Your insides tremble with happiness and shock at the same time, your mouth opened and lips stretching to the biggest smile but that’s until you let out a big laugh. Namjoon looks confused, tips of ears already getting read from embarrassment. Thinking he feels the same fear of rejection that you felt at the idea of confessing, you quickly explain yourself.

“We’re both so stupid,” you shake your head, an amused grin playing on your lips as you take a step closer to Namjoon. He watches you with big curious eyes, not moving an inch. “You’re the guy I talked about. I like you too, Joon. All these evenings and days spent with you… I can’t imagine doing it with someone else. And Amia told me I should tell you but I feared you don’t see me the same way. Joon, I think we’re both idiots and cowards.”

He stares at you for a moment, not moving before he suddenly wraps his arms around your frame and hugs you tightly.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispers as you giggle, hugging him back. “All this time you liked me back?”

“Of course. I thought you wouldn’t like me back, you never made it known. You’re always sweet to anyone and apart from being the same old and amazing Namjoon, I wouldn’t be able to even guess that there’s a chance you like me.”

“Of course, I like you. You’re smart, funny and goofy. I genuinely like spending time with you.” he tells you, pulling away so you can see his honest eyes full of adoration.

Namjoon notices how skeptical you look, almost as if you don’t believe him and that’s why he decides to finally man up and take matters into his own hands. One step and he’s so close to you that your chests almost brush as you stare at him with big eyes. He cups your face, watching how your eyes grow even wider but that’s all you can do — just stare at him and thinking how this look, because it looks like he’s about to—

And then he connects your lips in an innocent kiss, soft and tender that you almost think as if you just imagined it but when you close your eyes, he’s there gently pulling away. Your lips tingle with excitement, happiness and shock at the same time and when Namjoon notices your flustered face, he chuckles.

“Sorry, I hope that wasn’t too straightforward of me,” he says, features slightly twisting to worried eyes when you don’t respond and just stare at him.

Did he really kiss you? He kissed you. Namjoon kissed you.

“I’ve been meaning to do that every time we hung out.”

“I—wow,” you breathe out, fingers slightly grazing over your lips as you smile at Namjoon. “I guess we’re both cowards. If I told you sooner too, we could’ve kissed way sooner.”

That makes Namjoon laugh, a genuine laugh as he reaches for your face and gently strokes your cheek.

“Can I take you on a date? A real date that we both consider a date?” he pleads.

Your heart is jumping with happiness, hands slightly trembling as you let out a nervous giggle. But then you reach for his hands, squeezing them while all he can see in your eyes is genuine happiness. However, it’s Namjoon’s turn to look slightly nervous as he shifts on his spot but doesn’t usher you to give him an answer. He is patient, looking at you with fondness and honesty.

And when you finally open your mouth to respond, you see the most beautiful dimpled smile that makes your whole chest tingle with so much love. Maybe it’s too soon to call it that but you already know what you’re feeling, so your answer is more than clear.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[klainerswiftie22oncer]

Gleeful Paintbox Project #9: dog days/new tricks

Underrated scenes/performances

A little late and this is maybe gonna be long, but here's my thoughts on why more than a woman is underrated and I love it and it's so good I don't even know where to start (just know I'm praising all couples lol).

First of all, Saturday night gleever is in my comfort episodes, not like story wise but mostly for the music, unlike the new directions, I love disco, and the music is soooo good it makes me forget all the garbage going on in this episode, and that it barely has Klaine on it...

I'm gonna talk outfit wise, dance moves, setting, mood and context, bts, vocals and ugh THE COUPLES (mostly Klaine tho, there's a lot of underrated Klaine moments here).

Gonna talk about Klaine first cause they're my boo's, outfit wise will be covered later with the rest of the couples. I love Kurt leading the dance, I'm guessing cause he's taller, either way it's perfect. I love how Kurt first appears being held by Blaine and as he extends his arm, he vocalizes that (Para-dise) 'diiiiise' and his face singing it, that little head twirl 🥺.

Them just caressing each other's hands reminds me of: 'the touch of a fingertip is as sexy as it gets' 🥺, since I can't describe steps, I'm gonna let the gifs talks, just know every single move they make I worship (like a dog at the shrine of your lies okno).

It's hard to pick a favorite moment from them here but I think I'll choose Kurt spinning Blaine and then lowering him and then PUPPY DOG EYES 🥺🥺🥺 this guy is so in love with his man I think I would diiiie, and when Blaine's down, it's just a millisecond but you can see his hand resting so comfortably in Kurt's shoulder.

Now that I thought I picked a fav moment, this two start to spin and jump around like two pretty ponies 😠, Yeah, I love Kurt jumping, he's just soooo happy, and prob this wasn't in the choreo or who knows, cause no one else did it, but it makes me think it's improvised by Blaine's look, his smile becomes bigger the minute he begins to jump, like he wants to laugh, he just thinks it's so cute, or either way it just could be him happy that he's happy 🥺🥺

BLAINE TOUCHING KURT'S SHOULDER'S AND KURT'S FACE (YOU'RE KILLING ME 😩, slay me, kill me, RIP me, I died dead), let's ignore they're really looking at the camera man when spinning lol, Kurt's just having a blast and Blaine's really feeling the music.

Now vocals, this is just made for Chris's range. I find it funny how in the YouTube comments they said Cory's struggling a little with the song this high, and Chris is just vibing using his regular voice, this man's range, I'm still astoundished.

If really the low voices are Darren and Naya, like the comments said then wow, I think it's him singing the 'my only chance for happiness, and if I loose you now...' Chris is also singing that part but higher so it's kinda like a duet right? Lol.

And ugh the chorus, MORE THAN A WOMAN TO MEEE, Chris's voice is soooo smooth, is the whole reason the song was my most listened, just the whole chorus, imagine him singing this in your ear 😍

Okay outfits, I love the 70's vibes, the colors, not a fan of Kurt's hairstyle in this, a little too s1 for my taste, apart from that they all look great, I love the guys wearing those gold necklace things, Finn and Mike's outfits are pretty similar and they're fine, but Kurt and Blaine steal the show, I love red for Blaine, makes him look more in love.

But the girls are the one who really steal the spotlight... I really can't decide which is my fav dress, Rachel is just glowing, her face looks like it's been glittered or something, purple looks so good on her and the tail, now Brittany's, that double colored dress and her necklace and hair, so pretty. Santana, ugh that light blue dress with ruffles (not really good at describing fashion sorry) I think is my second favorite dress, but I gotta say that my number 1 fav look is Tina's, pink dress, with that shoulder thingy, and in this it's easier to appreciate her hair and it looks like she has highlights so yeah, gorgeous Tina for the win, Santana second close, and Brittany and Rachel's looks are tied for me, they all look great otherwise, this is just my taste if I had to chose lol. Woo, that was just for the outfits, this is gonna be a long one, prob nobody will read lmao.

For the setting, I love the dance floor of course, the lights and obviously the fog, it makes it look more romantic, I'm not great at technical stuff but everything about this gives it such a warm relaxing vibe filled with love.

For the bts, I love how much fun everyone had on this, I love that part where it seems like Darren missed a step and he looks at Chris to see how the step goes, and the best part, filming the spinning around, it's so funny how Cory explains that viewers actually think he's looking at Lea, and it's so awkward for him to look at a camera guy this lovingly, it was really fun, and I think everyone did a great job looking like they're in love.

So context wise, despite not knowing what to do with his life, and the assignment having to be about him and his future, Finn instead turns it into a serenade for Rachel, I don't think he sings to her very often (correct me if I'm wrong), and choosing this song is so lovely (the first lines are a little inappropriate but that's not his fault lol), the rest is just so fitting for them, and I love Finn for having a dream sequence picturing all of his friends dancing around them, I only wish it wasn't a dream, but oh well it's still sweet, Rachel's little look before he starts, she looks a little shy and overwhelmed 🥺.

You can really feel the love, and I think that's just cause it's really Lea and Cory radiating real love. How they don't take their eyes from each other and both have this huge grins on their faces, and when they do have to look away they're still smiling 🥺, and the whole dance, really the whole dance, Finn just won't look anything else but Rachel, in some parts she's just feeling herself, but that's not a bad thing, I think is really sweet how Finn is making her feel pretty and loved and it shows, so he lets her be the center.

I really don't wanna discuss much how the lyrics fit them, cause it's bittersweet ('and if I loose you now I think I would die, Oh say you'll always be my baby') but let's discuss the sweet lyrics like the chorus, again about Finn's future, he's unsure about everything except for one thing: Rachel, she's more than a woman to him, she's everything and he's trying to be everything for her ('just trynna get a hold on you'). I love the part where he lowers her and when he brings her back up, ugh somebody look at me like that, I can't describe it, it's such a comfy look sorta like: I can't believe you're mine, and I'm yours, he's just admiring her as he slowly brings her back up 🥺. Rachel's little touches on Finn's shoulders 🥺.

We don't hear Finn this high very often, found it very interesting the first time, I read somewhere once they autotuned him a little, I'm not sure tho, however it was, he sounds amazing, makes him sound more beamy. Highlights: that high note in those ah ah ahhhh before the last chorus. And the ooh, ooh, ooh's.

So that's it for Finchel I think, let's move on to Tike.

Tike is underrated by themselves, the show tends to be more Finchel, Klaine and Brittana, so I loved they included them in this. I don't know if Mike or Tina sing backup on this, I couldn't hear it, but I'm not great at that lol.

Tina's dress steals the show everytime she spins, my fav part of them is when Mike spins her very fast and then lowers her (terrible at describing dance moves I know), Mike's moves when spinning, he's really having the time of his life lol. Unfortunately, that's it for them, cause the camera was barely on them 😔.

So Brittana, Brittany's smile when the camera first focuses on her 🥺, that part when Brittany is holding Santana's hips and they're just like moving sideways Idk how to call it lol, that's my fav part of them in the song.

How they hold hands when the first chorus starts 🥺. I've seen some opinions that either Brittany or Heather's not really good at portraying emotion, but in this, really, her eyes make hearts all the time, for me this is the time when she looked at Santana the most lovingly. Someone pointed at YouTube (I didn't noticed it at first but it's cute to share) that when the second chorus starts, everyone is letting go their partner for the step, but Brittany is still holding onto Santana's hips, the YouTube section of this was full of Brittana, and they're right when they pointed out they're really radiating chemistry here, so underrated performance for Brittana fans also. Can't stop staring at Britt's hair 😳😍 srsly omg, so dance and vibe wise Brittany wins here, but let's talk about Naya's vocals omg. That oh uh wow uh 🤯,for being my most listened song on Spotify last year, I'm finding out new things each time, thanks to YouTube again, did anyone else knew Naya is the one singing the lower voice of "you're more than a woman to me" 😳? I was shocked. So if it's Chris and Naya singing those lines together, well that's an interesting mix, I wish they sang together more often (do they have a song together? Remind me please).

Vocals in general, kudos to whoever did those ah ah ah ah's after the choruses. Also kudos to the band, specially the violin's omg.

Despite being the same coreography for everyone, you can really see how each couple makes them their own, like when the one's leading first spins their partner and then lowers them, Kurt does it more slowly than Mike. Don't know if this was a choice or part of the choreo but love how each couple reflects their personality through the dance moves, it still shocks me only two people did every single choreo so thank you Zack and Brooke.

It was fun looking and overanalyzing the other couples, cause I'm usually just staring at Klaine lol, but thanks to this, I found out new things to love about this performance.

I just think this performance as a whole could give world fandom peace, all the couples look happy and lovely, the vibes are so chill and romantic, if we forget for a minute about their mistakes or whatever, either you hate or love some couple, I think this has something for everyone to enjoy, you can't deny they all look very much in love and everyone did an amazing job and this is so underrated, total serotonin boost, I close my case.

I got the gifs from angelhummel so thanks <3

[lovee-infected]

Hello! ♥ Can I request headcanons or oneshot (whichever is easier) about how the twst boys react when they discover that MC is a girl, because they thought MC was a pretty boy, someone like Epel, when an unexpected rain happens during flying class and they can see the silhouette of the breasts or the vibrantly colored bra under the wet T-shirt 👀

At some point they all go : “My expectations for you were low , but holy f ”

Riddle Rosehearts

Class 2 E had to take Riddle who crashed the ground from the 20 meter height to the nurse office afterwards

His pe grades were already horrifying and with those two tips of something he saw under your wet clothes , it isn't really strange to end up in bed

Thankfully he doesn't end up with a broken leg , but that seemed way better than having this broken sanity now : (y/n) is a girl...?

He gets red but not of any anger , instead embarrassment . He has been treating you too casually good lord , he is never the same with girls

Riddle doesn't talk to you for a few days because he now realizes how lame your relationship may seem ; many things he should have done , many things he shouldn't have done

Would things still be the same ? Well it has to be he , thought . After all you didn't ever hide anything or lie about your gender , it was his misunderstanding

Well now , maybe he wants to treat you a bit... softer ?

Trey Clover

He isn't terrified by the gender , he is terrified by the way he saw it : Wet clothes , squishy big things under your shirt with a visible color...

He sweats at even saying it by word he wasn't ; he wasn't expecting that at all

He tries to hide his blush but that doesn't really work ; everyone knows that Trey isn't one to blush easily

He decides that it's better to skip the class now ( His eyes need some fresh air) . Just a few hours away , and he seems to be already used to it

He has to admit that it's somehow creepy to see the guy who you always liked having around is actually a girl , but he decides to pretend that he already knew it

Male or female , you're the same to him . The lovely and adorable (y/n) you always were

But still , this got him thinking...does he need to treat you like a girl sometimes ? Stuff that just girls do , say or like ?

Cater Diamond

He... notices the big deal when he's taking a rainy day selfie with you . He is making sure that you both look good but suddenly his eyes lay at the sight of your chest through his phone...

His eyes grow wider and he doesn't notice when he presses the button : The sound of his phone's flash almost made him drop it

You ask if he's alright but Cater just gives you a nervous laugh and say that the phone just slipped for a second . He neither shows you the pic you just took nor agrees on taking a second one when you ask him to

He leaves in pretext of picking his umbrella up but instead , runs to a corner where you couldn't see him : He brings that selfie from his gallery and zooms on your chest . He wants to make sure of what he just saw

Which one's worse ? The neon pink bra under your T-shirt or the... clearly visible tip of your nipple under it ? Damn you are laying your breasts on his hand in the pic...

He quickly saves it though his private albums . On the second thought , he sends all pictures he had from you to that folder as well

Well , he'll get used to it right? Perhaps he can now flirt more comfortably with you knowing that you're actually a girl . The only important thing for him is too make sure that no one ever finds out about photos he has on that private folder ; the one he keeps specifically for you

Deuce Spade

"E-eh??" Remember what happened with Eliza ? This is the second version of it . Even during his rage days ( Wild yellow hair and random fights with others) he lacked the ability to even say hi to a girl . And here he is now spending all those days together without knowing that you were a girl !??

His whole personality almost cracks for a second . All those dirty stuff other first years had shared about girls flashes before his eyes . He wasn't damn prepared -

He couldn't be any more thankful that you couldn't see the horrifying scenes and sounds through his mind at the moment- He just leaves before you could even see him blush

Ace doesn't stop teasing him though , late at the night inside Heartslabyul's , Ace is walking on his nerves asking him to tell what's wrong . Ace isn't the only curious one ; soon all his classmates too keep asking Deuce to say what is bothering him

Deuce has decided to keep his mouth shut until he comes over this fact on his own , and he's strong on it . There's no way that he'd let anyone recognize his anxiety with women

He knows his friends better than this and doesn't want to be dared to steal your underwear or poke your breasts in another round of truth or dare

Let's just...hope that things will soon get better for him or , perhaps you can be his chance to overcome his lack of skills with women ?

Ace Trappola

"Holy sh-" He then gets fired from the pe class for his impolite usage of words- ( School rules , right ?) Not that he cares though

Comparing to Deuce , he's a lot better and more experienced especially because he has been in a relationship before... which is both good and bad

The last time he got this close to any girls before you was with his ex-girlfriend ; and to be honest even that relationship didn't brought them as close as you two are now . The thought of going through similar things with a new one even though he no longer thinks about his ex ... that kinda hurts

Maybe he would've died to tell Deuce what he found out if old memories didn't haunt him . He isn't an awkward realizing your gender like Deuce is , but he can tell that it's kinda hard for him to deal with it . Mostly because of how close and dear you are to him now...

He finally realizes that he doesn't deserve carrying the shame and anxiety on his own and tells Deuce ; well at least calming Deuce down will make him pay least attention to his own problems

Leona Kingscholar

He almost chokes- He was standing in the corner without a single drop of water on his hair while you got too wet as if you took a shower with your clothes on

He is teasing you likr always again until he realizes a second color under your white clothes ... no . please don't be

He prefers to imagine that you're a guy having the kink of wearing feminine underwear . He isn't ready to accept that you're a girl and he still denies it after seeing the vibrantly visible bra with his own two eyes

God...he teased you , kicked you , laughted you off and literally stepped on you ; that's what he usually likes to treat others so..? But not a lady , never . He is raised better this to end up neglecting a lady's great level and worth

Now considering how he's been teasing you so far , what did you think of him..? Do you consider him an asshole who has no respect for women due to how he treated you ??

He is really stressed out and doesn't know what to do , he just takes off his own jacket and quickly comes to you , wrapping it around your wet body and hair and taking you to a warmer place . He keeps asking if you're alright ? Didn't you catch a cold ? Do you need a doctor ?

Leona doesn't know if your fascinated gaze means a yes or no , and it isn't going to help

He isn't going to explain himself right now , maybe give it some time ?

The only reason he treated you this casually was because he was comfortable with you and it was all...a way of showing admiration ?

Maybe it gets better when he explains himself

Ruggie Bucchi

His mouth drops open when he realizes the bra as you two were drying yourselves after the rain . (y/n) is a she...!?

He doubts , he would doubt it again if he even takes a closer look . Suddenly his body feels warmer and his cheeks get red . No way...

Ruggie barely talked to any girls other than his own family and even skipped conversations when girls were brought up , he isn't mentally prepared for it !

But now he is changing with you at the same room ?? Wait wait wait- He might act like a brat but he isn't a jerk

He leaves because he's sure that you need some privacy ; all though he still refuses to believe that you're a girl...

You never ever mentioned your gender in front of him and he never asked , but did anyone else know it except him ? He just wouldn't dare to ask

Well girl or not , he doesn't stop teasing you in general ; but also learns not to go too far since it's still hard for you to be wrapped in an all boy school...you need more support

Jack Howl

He doesn't mind going blind after seeing those nipples under your wet T-shirt . He first thought that they were a bit too big for a boy but...he soon realized that they weren't even for a boy-

He had to take a small look between your legs because he couldn't resist- he had to make sure . And NO ! He didn't see what he wished to see there

He still can't make sure ?? Those things usually proved someone being a girl but still , there is no way to make sure unless he asks you ; but how can he ? No way , he'll just melt down

He doesn't mention anything in front of you but tries indirectly bringing the issue of your gender up with Ace and Deuce : Didn't (y/n) tell you two about her schedule today?

" Her...?"

Well great , now Ace and Deuce have joined him on the ‘terrified of your gender’ army . The only way to make sure is either asking you or... stealing something that could prove it . Someone has to get inside your room but which one of them now...?

Azul Ashengrotto

He is vibing with the pleasant rain as it made today's pe sessions a bit better for him . He asks you to join him

He just takes his glasses off for a second to dry them and- BANG

The color of your bra was too visible that he could even see it without his glasses on

He immediately puts them on and takes a better look , well great now he can clearly see your breasts closely . How bad he wished that he went blind for a second...

You don't get why Azul seems to be studying your chest so you ask if something's wrong?

Azul is pulled out of his thoughts and embarrassment takes him over because you realized what he was staring at : Pathetic

Azul excuses himself telling you that he has to take his pills before he returns to his Octopus form and disappears

How dumb he could be not to realize it till now... Beside that - Why the hell didn't those two tall sticks ( a.k.a Floyd and Jade) realize it either !?

God God God...he keeps swallowing his eyes at the thought...

How can he get over the fact that he was being with a girl all this time...?

Floyd Leech

Well of course he is shocked , Shrimpy was supposed to be a guy but he actually is a little girl ? Meh , what a disappointment

Well , body is body to him so he isn't really shocked or freaked out to see , well , those things under your shirt

He might not be that fascinated , but still has doubts . While you two are taking a walk back to Ramshackle dorm , he just doesn't stop staring at your chest and doesn't mind you noticing him either

To be honest , he now seems to be liking it . You were just a kiddo he always enjoyed teasing but now that you're a girl...? How different would things be ? And would the way he treated you make you possibly... have those girlish feelings for him ? Sounds fun

While saying goodbye at your door he stops for a second to say something . You don't quite get what he asked but he knows better himself : " Random question but- are those seriously soft to squeeze ?"

Jade Leech

Just as Floyd , he doesn't mind you being a girl . He actually appreciates you even more now. Night Raven College isn't a place for weak people and still , to think that a small human girl like you could last this long here... Farewell , human beings can be really interesting he can tell

He gently offers you his coat and escorts you to a warmer place , telling you to change into something dry before you catch a cold

Well the first day is nothing different or weird , but the upcoming days prove how creepy he can be...

He doesn't mind popping up out of nowhere to tell you to choose underwears with a less noticable color at school and it just makes you melt ; not just because it's embarrassing to be told so but also because it proved that Jade is watching you

He does do some research on surface females to get to know the differences between what he expected you to be and what you really are better ; not that he has a complaint though

Jamil Viper

He exactly knows what he just saw there and - He can't help but to feel ashamed . For once he leaves without taking Kalim with him , he just forgot him a the moment

He now feels... angry . You never ever shared your gender but it's not like he ever expected you to be a girl . He feels lied to ; you didn't ever tell the truth but didn't lie either ; that bugs him even more because he doesn't know if he's mad at you or not

Well he now knows when someone you thought you know ends up being something totally different ; like the way Kalim saw who he really is...well that's really annoying to think of

Jamil ignores you for a few days until you come to ask why he's avoiding you . He insists that it's nothing all though it's obvious that it is-

Alright , a few days until he cools down . He wants to keep the distance till then

Knowing your gender often makes him feel ashamed of how casually he's been treating you . Well a lot of things are different when it's an all boy school , right ?

He doesn't know if he should act cooler with you from now or pretend that he never saw anything , he needs time to make up his mind

Kalim al Asim

He was giving you a towel to dry yourself when he recognized your clothes . He was actually thinking of bringing you some dry ones when he saw what he wished he didn't saw- Aaah why would you wear such a recognizable bra : " (y/n)..??"

He quickly pulls back and apologizes ; not that you know what he is apologizing for

He returns to Jamil and tells him to leave , he just can't face you right now

There at Scarabia , Kalim tells Jamil everything since he really needs to share some feelings . He asks Jamil if he knew about this and he certainly didn't

Kalim now keeps wondering... how hard might it be for you ? A girl sorrounded by all guys out there , do you feel safe ?

He now has decided to look after you more than he already did , he just doesn't want you feeling any sad or lonely because of your current situation

He always hated loneliness and that's why he needed Jamil around , now it's your turn to have Kalim around so you'll never be alone

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is well familiar with all beauty materials - including feminine underwear - so he quickly realizes both the unusual size of your chest and the vibrantly colored bra under your clothes . He wishes he hadn't

Bearing the fact that he was having a girl beside him all this time is already hard enough , but what makes it worse is what a terrible female he thinks you are now

You seriously do need a start over ! You are no girl if you're this ignorant toward your appearance even as it makes you look like a guy

He spends all night thinking of what he now should do with you . He does know how to manage guys but girls ? That won't be called something he had much experience on

He isn't feeling as comfortable as before with you yet , he decides to give you some lessons to at least pull you out of your non feminine self

He doesn't mind telling you that you have to do a lot more for yourself as you are a girl ; and he says it as if he knew it all this time

He isn't going to turn you into a princess , it's safer for you to remain something between male and female as you are stuck between all these untrustworthy guys , but it doesn't hold him back from giving you some chance to see your female self. He brings you wigs and puts on your makeup , telling you that you sometimes need to show up like this

He still needs some time to feel as comfortable as he used to with you , but spending time with you trying to have a start over is actually helping him to like you even more than he used to

Rook Hunt

Well congrats , for so long no one had ever succeeded to shock Rook like you did ! That's an improvement . He always makes sure not miss a single detail about those he has his eyes on ; yet he failed to even recognize your gender correctly until now

A bit of fascination won't hurt , right ? After all having a boy like Epel beside him makes it really confusing to specify male and female sometimes

To be honest , he now finds you pretty fragile and helpless : Bunny between the beasts

If a hunter like him didn't know it so far , then probably no one else knew it either . So that's his little secret now

This place's a considerably dangerous zone for a lady to step on , and Rook isn't planning on exposing you like this . He isn't a monster after all...

But having Rook of all people knowing your secret is already enough of torture , isn't it ?

Epel Felmier

I-I thought we were the same...???

This can't be true , this shouldn't be ! Please don't be , please , please , please

Epel looked up to you bot only as a reliable and strong friend but also as someone who goes through similar appearance problems as Epel himself did

You made him feel better that he wasn't the only one having problems with looking too similar to girls ; seems like he was wrong

Epel wasn't ever comfortable with getting close to girls , along becoming a friend of them . He even kept you closer than his other friends since the too of you could relate a lot he thought ; now what should he do ?

He is too embarrassed to even look into your eyes now , he even skips classes you two share and in summary , does anything to avoid you for a while

That is said that girls and boys can never be just friends and... that's frustrating

Now , could the two of you ever be as close as you used to be again?

Idia Shroud

Which is worse , realizing that he's been spending all his time with a girl over the past few months or seeing her wet breasts during the class ?Man , that looked just like those anime hentais one would find online...

Beside that , having your gender exposed makes him feel a bit unsafe about his relationship with you ; if even a simple thing such as gender could be different from what he was expecting you , then what greater differences would your reality have from the (y/n) you were into his eyes ?

Idia hardly ever gets to fully trust anyone and now he isn't sure if he could trust you anymore . Well yes gender might be no big deal compared to the fearful thoughts he is having at mind ; but it's enough to send him into his safe zone and stay away from you

His face turns red and hot whenever he thinks of that scene even when he's all alone in his bedroom , God he wasn't prepared-

Ortho finally forces him to tell what's bothering him and when he confesses , Ortho gets really excited . He keeps telling Idia that as a friend , he has to stay by your side specially because you may feel lonely being a girl all on your own . He reminds Idia of the fact that this is what friends do

He now feels sorry for abandoning you like a coward , but he has to admit that it's a bit hard for him to return the old friendship you two had . Well maybe just texting you instead of face to face interaction would be better ?

Malleus Draconia

uh..? A girl...? Child of man caught in an unknown world and... That's a female . You keep fascinating him over and over ever since he met you , it's just another surprise he can tell

He kinda loses all his focus during the pe class after he accidentally notices the unusual knobs popping under your T-shirt ; are you wearing something wrapped around your...chest ?

He first thinks that it may just be somewhat of a brand new clothing trend to wear feminine-like stuff ; but remembering how you never clearly stated your gender , he now understands how wrong he was

He thought that he had you under his watch pretty well , but he even failed to realize your gender correctly ; perhaps he should learn to do it better

Malleus isn't about to treat you any differently just because you ended up being a girl , all though he has to agree that it was a bit shocking . But in general , nothing about your relationship really seems to be gender related

You don't know his name and he didn't know your gender until now ; is this how karma works ? Well that'd be a bit unfair , gender was rather worthless compared to the fear his real identity might bring you

The only thing that may change now is him being more protective over you ; not that he underestimates you but rather because there's no way for you to be totally comfortable in a school filled with rebellious guys . He wants to make sure that his currently favorite human being won't get in much trouble because of that...

Lilia Vanrouge

Eh ? Through out his hundred-year life this would be the most shameful thing he got to face . You might think that he found it to be a disgrace to his long lasting life which is filled with honor and pride ; but in that case you may like to get to know the old man better

He doesn't like being thought of as a pervert ; but it doesn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself either. Naked figures or seductive girls aren't something he gets overly excited about , same goes for you . Well accidents like this can happen everyday , right ? But this one had something rather fun along with it :

From the direct yet neutral gaze he gave your chest , you immediately realized what he was looking at and you pulled back . Lilia didn't expect you to notice it so quickly , but the embarrassed face you gave him afterwards , that was priceless

He giggles softly at the thought , a shy and cute little girl . He isn't really a fan of boys that are overly cute or childish , but when it comes to little girls , that's another story

You had already caught his eyes by being the only human being caught in this school on your own . Well , to see how feeble and shy you sometimes could be , that reminded him of Silver

Now now , what should he do ? Playing the role of a small girl's parents or something ? Doesn't sound that bad

Sebek Zigvolt

Gasp

He's about to lose his mind - he feels like he has saw you totally naked or lurked into your privacy , he feels awful

He runs to another corner to cool down from what he saw - Damn- That scene doesn't get away from his eyes for a second

Well then , take deep breathes , it's cool , it's fine - it's gonna be fine

Sebek wouldn't dare talking to you for sometime after that . His cheeks get warmer whenever he sees you around , making him change his direction to avoid you

When you finally get him to talk to you , he breaks off- He starts apologizing . He swears not to ever peek on your body again and that he won't say a word from what he saw

You probably don't know what he is talking about , but you say okay to calm him down

Sebek isn't used to having girls around but now that he does , he should be really careful . He doesn't want you to think of him as a antisocial chick when it comes to women and he tries his best to be a gentleman in front of you . Man...he really does take it seriously

Silver

A... girl?... Silver's first reaction would be nothing different from blushing and turning back ; what else would you expect him to do ?

He's a simple guy , he doesn't overreact but doesn't feel totally comfortable either

He didn't ever even think of the possibility of you being a girl , he just isn't used to having anyone else than boys in NRC around . You did always look too cute for a guy but still , he didn't see this coming...

(y/n) is a girl...A girl , this thought gets looped inside his brain . He can't stop freaking out over it . It feels like he's been building a sand castle on water all this time and now he's watching it sink . His whole expectations of you seems to be ruined

It gets even worse when the figure of you dressed in a long beautiful dress , holding a brilliant crown of your flowers on your long silky hair haunts him on his dreams - Why on earth do you have to be so beautiful (y/n)..!?

Silver refuses to accept , but he's pretty soft when it comes to girls . He's pretty shy but to have a girl he has been liking for sometime close...his inner self is getting teased - in a pleasant way

He doesn't show up in front of you for a while , but he just can't get the thought of you out of his mind . From reality to dreams , seems like you're always in front of him . As if you really walked with him once upon a dream

[pwarkluv]

❝ electric love ❞ - pjs

park jisung x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, too fluffy because it’s my fav genre to write about, kinda strangers to lovers au, idol au, idol!jisung, itzysixthmember!reader, I’M SO SORRY TO MY CURVY AND THOSE TALLER THAN JISUNG READERS y/n is called small and tiny in this fic (i still love you though), mentions hair color but just pretend it’s dyed like lisa’s hair in the hylt era, shy!jisung and shy!reader because y’all are babies who don’t know how to approach someone who you like

SUMMARY | when itzy and nct dream meet on weekly idol, one member of itzy catches a certain maknae’s eye.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by “electric love” by borns :P yes it’s a tiktok song but it’s a good tiktok song so bite me >:( i disappeared for a bit so enjoy this trash imagine because i lost the will to write for a bit. also not edited really well i’m sorry for mistakes :(

your palms become sweaty as you nervously sit in the chair, the makeup artist diligently working on your face. wannabe came out about a month ago and the overwhelming popularity and support came flowing through, especially with ryujin’s shoulder part in the beginning. 

itzy’s fandom grew and so did the group as a whole, the six of you continuing to learn more about being an idol. 

but the one thing you were lacking in was interacting with other idols. 

itzy debuted in early 2019 giving you guys a little interaction with others like your brother group, stray kids. but when the whole pandemic hit, causing you all to isolate in quarantine to protect each other, talking to others outside of your company became rare. 

you were extremely awkward when it came to other idols. sure, you could talk to fans. you knew how to act and talk to them since that was a part of your training. but talking to idols, another person who wasn’t a fan, was different. 

unfortunately for you, on the episode of weekly idol you are about to appear on, another group was going to be present. and of course they just had to be one of your favorite boy groups of all time: nct dream.

you’ve always looked up to nct as a whole, but nct dream has always been your favorite because they were young when the six, originally seven, first debuted. you were twelve when you saw their debut stage. dancing has always been a passion of yours. it made you feel free and alive. music has always been a part of you as well. you taught yourself how to write songs and produce them, even releasing music on soundcloud under an alias. 

so ever since you saw nct dream debut, you decided you wanted to be an idol too. three years later and you’re in itzy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. but now that you were going to be in close proximity to the people you’ve looked up to for so long, even talking to them made your head hurt. 

ryujin bumped your hip teasingly as the six of you prepared to go on screen, knowing how you felt about nct dream. she was casted during a got7 fansign so when she first met them after her debut, that girl was a statue (though she would never admit it). 

“don’t worry y/nnie, i won’t mention your crush on park jisung.” ryujin slyly said before moving to escape your wrath. 

“ryu!” you whined, trying to smack her moving body. your face flushed, the heat rushing to your cheeks at the mention of the older boy. though you’ve never said it outloud, you’ve always had a thing for the maknae of nct. how could you not? he’s tall, polite, has a really good voice, and is the main dancer just like you. his style and the way he moved was beyond impressive, causing you to fall for him even more. 

the girls found out about your so-called “crush” (quotation marks to make you feel better even though you’re head over heels for him) when you saw nct dream in an award show. yuna saw the way you blushed and how your eyes strayed to the tall then pink haired boy a couple tables away from the six of you. since then they’ve all teased you about it whenever they can, making you whine in embarrassment every time. 

you shakily wipe your hands on your outfit, a stylist making a sound of disapproval before you turn to give her a small smile. moving towards a small mirror, you examine how you look with a worried face. your pale blue paper bag jeans were slightly baggy and you cringed knowing you were gonna perform wannabe in those. you adored the flowery top you had on though. it was white with tiny black flowers printed all over, the puff sleeves adding to the look. your hair was slightly curled, the blonde highlights peeking through from your jet black hair. 

you let out a worried breath as the management ushered you to hurry. showtime, you thought to yourself as you anticipated for the words “action”. 

in the middle of the room was the iconic white stage where weekly idol have always held their episodes. on one side was itzy waiting to enter and on the other was nct dream. 

“today is a very special episode for we have two awesome groups joining us today!” one of the hosts exclaimed excitingly, adding on to your nerves. lia sensed your distress and reached to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“give it up for the hottest girl group of their generation, itzy!” the other host yelled before the six of you partied onto the stage. each of you had an excited expression on your face as the two hosts continued on before introducing nct dream.

“let’s warmly welcome one of our favorite teams to have on this show, nct dream!”

your heart raced as you saw the six of them walk on stage goofily, trying not to laugh at how awkward jisung looked. as if he sensed your eyes, jisung’s gaze met yours causing you to look away in shock. suddenly the floor became more interesting than the boy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year. 

“all in us! hello, we are itzy!” the six of you greeted towards the screen. unknowingly to you, the boy you were caught staring at was looking at you too. 

❝ baby you’re like lightning in a bottle ❞

jisung likes to think he’s a simple boy. he doesn’t like breaking the rules and is mostly a good kid. but gosh from the moment you two made eye contact, the brown haired boy was ready to run away then and there. you were pretty. like beyond pretty, and he’s never felt this way before.

sure it was a little creepy and slightly concerning for his image seeing as he currently has heart eyes for you while the cameras are rolling, but jisung couldn’t help himself. that flowery top of yours made you look soft and small, as if he could scoop you up in his arms like a child. jisung knew he was tall but dang, seeing you from afar made him think he was extra tall. the boy chuckled under his breath seeing you wear boots, knowing that gave you an extra boost.

she’s so small, he thought, smiling a bit.

renjun nudged him, noticing the younger was spacing off before following his eyes to a certain member of itzy. the elder smirked a bit as they all did their introductions.

“to the world here is, nct.” 

the boy smugly looked at their maknae who was currently blushing at being caught by his hyung for looking at you.

young love, renjun thought before turning his attention back to the hosts. 

❝ i can’t let you go now that i got it ❞

“so you guys have two main dancers in itzy right?” one of the hosts asks as the 12 idols sit together on chairs. yeji nodded and spoke up.

“yes it’s me and y/nnie but y/n’s a better dancer than me.” she replied, pointing a shoulder to you. you quickly rebutted and waved your hands in disagreement.

“no way~” you denied, turning red. “yeji unnie is the best.” you replied shyly, an awkward thumbs up to try and back up your claim. 

everyone cooed at your shy face. although you were the second youngest in itzy, 4 months older than your maknae, yuna’s much taller than you which made you look like the youngest. because of this everyone, including yuna, tended to child you because you were just so baby. 

“weren’t you a part of a highlight reel?” the other host asks you, once again embarrassing you. the girls laughed, the other six boys looked at the host in confusion.

“y/n unnie was apart of bts sunbaenim’s love yourself highlight reel!” yuna exclaimed. although she too was in the highlight reel, yuna always thought you were much cooler because you got selected for your dancing skills. 

everyone gasped in surprise (the hosts a bit more fake since they already knew that) at the revelation. 

“i was able to dance with j-hope sunbaenim and jimin sunbaenim for that highlight reel.” you responded, smiling a bit at the memory. the boys were beyond shocked knowing this must meant you were good. 

“how was it?” a host asks.

you marveled at the thought. “they were such good dancers and really really nice!” you said with a happy expression. “i would definitely love to dance with them again if i were given the opportunity.” the look on your face was clear you loved dancing and loved working with the pair. 

“can you show us the dance?” the host asks and just like that you immediately become a shy mess.

“o-oh um i mean yeah i could do that.” you stuttered as chaeryoung softly pushed you off your chair and into the middle of the room. she smirked a bit at your timid form, knowing what she’s doing. from the moment you walked in, the maknae of nct seemed to be head over heels for you and she knew he was the main dancer just like you.

i swear if they don’t end up together after this i’m suing, chaeryoung thought as she looked at the starstruck boy watching you expectantly. 

❝ and all i need is to be struck ❞

jisung wasn’t surprised to hear that you were one of the main dancers in itzy but to hear that you worked with bts’s j-hope and jimin? he was beyond impressed and (though he would never admit it) was lowkey really excited to see you dance. 

he watched as you timidly walked towards the middle of the stage, calming down your nerves. jisung watched with a faint smile until the music started playing, and just like that he was a goner. 

❝ by your electric love ❞

the way you moved, your technique, your facial expressions. everything was mesmerizing. the whole room watched in awe as you danced to the routine you burned into your mind as a trainee, knowing that this was one of your biggest projects ever. in that moment jisung completely fell for you, and everyone in the room except for you knew that. 

“and that’s the end of today’s episode of weekly idol!” you all cheered with the hosts, jisung’s heart beating fast knowing he wanted to talk to you after this episode but not knowing how to. 

“cut!” the director yelled out, a little excited to know what was to come. they of course noticed jisung’s lovestruck expression and the way your eyes lingered on the boy, and of course they didn’t catch it on camera. knowing you two were young and idols, they didn’t want to ruin what you two might have since they were all rooting for you two. 

“if you don’t talk to her i swear i’ll tell her embarrassing stories of you.” donghyuck threatened. just like the others, he too noticed jisung’s attraction to you throughout this whole episode. the boy’s eyes widened in shock, yelping as chenle pushed him towards your way with a small smirk. 

“unnie no.” you cried out, beyond terrified as you watched jisung walk towards you. as soon as the episode ended you were pulled away by the girls who quickly explained to you that jisung “had the hots'' for you (ryujin’s words, not yours). 

your mind was going at a million miles per hour, heart racing as jisung came closer and cleared his throat.

“h-hi.” he said, his voice never not taking you by surprise. jisung was towering over you, looking down at you nervously.

“h-hello.” you smiled and jisung could’ve sworn he melted just a little. 

“get together already!” lia and jaemin yelled out together, making the two of you blush and unconsciously lean closer. 

❝ electric love ❞

“wanna hang out sometime soon?” jisung asked, his sudden confidence taking you and him off guard. you bit back a smile before holding your hand out. 

“give me your number.” you replied, jisung’s smile he let out making you fall even more for him. 

[calumxkisses]

Dancing In The Sky | a.i.

pairing: ashton irwin x reader

genre: fluff to angst

warnings: death (not main characters)

summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks

a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.

you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go

➳

The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.

Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.

You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.

You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.

“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.

Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.

You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.

You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.

You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.

You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.

As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.

When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.

The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.

It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.

The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.

And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.

As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.

It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.

“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.

“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.

Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.

You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.

“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.

“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.

“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.

As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.

Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.

The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.

“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.

“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.

Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.

It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.

You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.

You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.

Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?

If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.

Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.

You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.

You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.

And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.

Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.

Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?

You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.

All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.

She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.

While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.

She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.

And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.

Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.

But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.

—

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: ii

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii (epilogue)

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @firein-thesky​​

word count: ~15.2k

Healing takes time, but it’s easier with someone else around who’s on the mend with you. 

(You and Keigo learn to start living again.)

warnings: codependency but make it sexc, injured reader, post-trauma symptoms, reader has abandonment issues, angst, ouchies <3

a/n: part 2 :’^) we made it!! soft hurt and very horny codependency that involves keigo’s immaculate d*ck. all that is left after this is part 3 which will be more of an epilogue :’^) 

enjoy loves <3

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The doors to exit the hospital scare you.

How can they not?

They’re... automatic.

The glass panes are wide, sliding and slapping as folks come and go, the quiet ring of metal on metal and the slap of the plastic padding makes your heart race.

Get over it, get over it, get over it—

It’s just some doors, they’re normal.

You’ve walked through automatic doors so many times. Never before had you even taken conscious note of them. 

(But that was before you heard them let in that man who—)

Without thinking, you take a little, tentative step back from them. 

Consider you are leaving your own slice of healing hell; you are shakier and sweatier than you would’ve liked. Your clothes are like the ones... he used to wear, cheap garments obviously pulled from some industrial multipack that stank like plastic and rubbing alcohol.

You hate it.

But you didn’t have another choice. Your old articles were bloodied and disposed of long ago, and the hospital gowns you wore during your stay were far more uncomfortable than your scratchy, wide pants and crewneck long sleeve the same pale, lifeless blue as your old bed sheets. 

It would be enough.

You shift the crutch under your right arm and shuffle the backpack on your shoulders. It contains just enough to get you to the shelter, where they’d supposedly have a bed— a cot, more than likely. You had a toothbrush, some extra socks, and a prepaid card for a single, one-way train trip across the country and into the unknown.

Tears stung your eyes as you lingered by the doors.

It all feels so uncomfortably real. The world kept moving, and you’re reentering it far-more battered and perpetually bruised. 

And completely alone.

(The thought horrifies you to your core, but you try to ignore it.)

Despite the time you spent at the hospital, you were leaving without a hint of reverie. Everyone, nurses and doctors and anyone who has fucking eyes is too busy dealing with the casualties that had lasted months. 

It didn’t matter how long you stayed. You were just a body. A fucked up one too. 

You count yourself lucky to even have the backpack, as cheap and sterile as it smells.

It all unnerves you, but you didn’t have a choice. Numbness settles over you as you accept your future. 

There... is a little glimmer that he will show up.

(He won’t. Empty promises.)

(Everyone leaves.)

(Why’d you call him, anyway?)

(Because no one had spoken to you like a human in a month.)

Solitude makes people desperate and crazy.

You are a little crazy, you know. Maybe not in a bad way, but certainly in a way that is eating you up and out in ways you don’t understand. You don’t have the energy sort through it all. You just have to finally start moving forward. Or try to. 

Tentatively, you walk toward the doors, stepping out and onto the pavement. You lurch and you would’ve tripped if not for the crutch shoved under your arm. 

For the first time in a long time, you suck in fresh air and the trickling sunlight. It feels fresh, cleansing you with each little inhale as you face your cheeks to sky. You have your moment, basking before your journey.

Then someone whistles. You ignore it at first.

The person whistles again, calling out— 

“Your ride’s here, starshine!”

Your breath punches from your lungs. You whip your head to the sound. 

Though it’s overcast, you do see your morning sun.

Your steps stutter as you nearly trip over your feet.

He is standing, not far at all, leaning against a shiny black car, sleek and expensive and out of place. He’s all overgrown hair and lazy-expressions, one which stretches into a grin as he sees you.

And you see him.

(He really came?)

(Of course he did.)

Your crutch nearly clatters to the ground as you stumble toward him. The moment you waver, he’s running to catch you.

You meet each other halfway.

And without a goddamn lick of shame, the moment you near him, your arms lock around him. Your face buries into the hollow of his throw and you inhale. The scent of him, a bit spiced but mostly skin and sweat fills you. Not a hint of antiseptic. 

 And you shudder at how good it feels. 

He stabilizes the two of you, greedily wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing as if to give a much-needed greeting. 

There’s a moment of heat between you, familiar and blessed and so damned missed that you both share shuddering breaths. 

“It’s good to see you, starshine,” He soaks up any part of you he could get to. So casually, he touches like he wants to consume you.

You squeeze him just as hard.

“You came?” Your words muffled into his skin.

He simply nods, and the only confirmation you need to sink into him. Perhaps, there’s onlookers, but neither of you have the mind to care. All you care about is the shift of his muscles beneath your fingertips, the heat of him, his golden, pretty visage—

Like he had so many times, he tucks hair behind your ears and tension drains from him. 

So tenderly does he squeeze around your middle where he holds you up, “Let’s go home, starshine.”

You want nothing more.

...

The drive to your new home is long, but you don’t mind.

The world has changed in the months you’d been tucked away in the forest-hidden hospital. As disconnected as you were, you still heard of the unrest and upheaval across the country. The political clashes are marked by the... contrarian billboards lining the highway, new slogans battling each other every mile or so. 

The scenery slowly goes from flatlands, to wetlands, to rolling hills that are a lush green. From the safety of the car, you could see that the air even looked wet, and you could imagine the way it would stick in your throat and tacky the tips of your fingers. 

“Where do you live?” You finally ask, voice soft in the melancholy softness of the light mist that sprayed the car.

“In the mountains, high-up,” He squeezes your hand (the one he’s been holding the whole ride). Quietly, he adds. “I still couldn’t bear to be too close to the ground.”

He laughs, though it fades into the suddenly heavy air.

This is the world, isn’t it?

You blink, gulping at the face of your reality, and let your eyes go half-lidded as you trace the shapes of growing evergreen as your drive takes you higher and higher. 

...

Keigo had made up the guest room for you.

He doesn’t have much for extra sheets and softness, let alone decor, but he does what he can. The bed is made and pressed with clean lines, freshly washed. The curtains on the windows hang heavy, but warm up the room with their clement, tan fibers. It’s a start, with lots of space for you to add your own touches as well.

He’d spent the night prior on it, laboring, like he was preparing a nest as opposed to a simple bedroom.

(It is a nest, but he doesn’t need to accept that just yet.)

There wasn’t anything else to do for a while when he first escaped that fucking hell. He’d really given up. Keigo was uncomfortably content to rot away as he had dreamed of since he’d been burnt. The little, dusty corners of the cabin would’ve made perfect places to waste away in peace and alone. 

Except, he didn’t.

Keigo started to make the home better.

He isn’t sure if it was out of some need to just do something, and the outdated, worn cabin was his most available canvas. Part of him is convinced it’s some buried avian instinct, and without the Commission’s constant hovering, he has no reason to suppress those more animalistic urges. The need to nest somewhere cozy and safe took him over, and he had gotten to work.

The cabin is cleaned up incredibly well. New appliances, floors patched and polished. The furniture is mostly old, but it’s obviously been shined and tended to. The living area isn’t horribly large, but it’s more than enough space for the two of you. It has wide windows that looked down upon the slopes and peaks that your home is nestled in. The colors are warm oranges and tans that are easy on the eye. Nothing too red and nothing too blue.

Nothing too imposing.

(Nothing too reminiscent.)

He leads you from the car, gingerly helping you up the rickety stairs to the front door. 

The wound on your leg may be ‘healed’, but you don’t appear comfortable in the slightest. Your expression pinches with half of your steps, the bending of your scarred flesh undoubtedly painful. It makes something in his chest squeeze as he navigates you into his house, from the snow into somewhere warm. A place that he crafted all on his own. Shaped with his own hands. A real possession, all his own. 

When you enter, you don’t say anything, only tightening your grip on his hand.

“I like it,” You smile, soft and dreamy, worrying the strap of your backpack. “... Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

“Of course,” Keigo assures you. Of course, it was okay for you to stay. “I’m happy to have you here, especially when the other option is one of the shelters.”

You wouldn’t have lasted a day with your bum leg and natural softness.

The thought has him gulping, the heat flaring in his chest as he tugs you closer, ghosting his lips over your temple.

With only a bit of stumbling, he shows you the rest of the home.

...

You’re quiet the rest of the day, curled up on the couch in the same clothes you left the hospital in. There’s clear exhaustion in your face, from the dark circles ringing your eyes and the tremble in your hand and leg. Keigo is content to cover you in a nice knit blanket he purchased down in the nearby town, and let you rest.

His own back burns when he catches glimpses of your scar. It ran down all the way to your ankle, even bleeding onto the top of your foot. The gnarled flesh brings back memories of screaming and metallic exam rooms.

And he, like you, stares at a wall for a while before making dinner.

 You can’t manage much.

The TV glows with some show you might’ve watched and been engrossed in it.  But the hollow feeling in your chest keeps you submerged in the static of your skull. It’s more comfortable than acknowledging how quickly the picture moves in front of you.

Your only motion is a ‘light’ scratching over the thin fabric of your pants.

‘Light’.

He enters sometime later, bearing food and an easy smile that falls all-too quickly. 

“Hey, starshine— oh fuck,” His voice clips as he enters, setting down steaming plates on the coffee table and pulling your hand from your thigh. The tips of your fingers are stained with enough blood to make your eyebrows shoot up. 

Your eyes shoot to your leg, where you’d apparently tore through the thin fabric of your pants and torn your skin up without even thinking. So close to the scar—

Heat flares between, light bouncing in your eyes as you cover the hole, “S-sorry, fuck, I didn’t even realize.”

“It’s okay, it happens,” Keigo assures you, softer than you’ve ever heard him. “Let’s clean you up quick and then eat, okay?”

You nod, exhaling a weight from your chest as the light skitters out of your eyes. 

And the heat fades from the room. The absence of it chills Keigo, and the abruptness makes his nose scrunch. 

He patches you up quickly and with a precision that screams ‘yes, I have done this far too many times.’ The wound isn’t too severe, just a nasty-looking scratch. The dried blood on your finger is wiped away. 

You both settle onto the couch, eating in silence.

Something hangs in the air, thick and unsaid. Questions and paragraphs that have been ignored up until now. Not out of will, perhaps just tired negligence. 

But, Keigo has always been the blunt type, so he finally asks one of the many facets that needs to be broached. 

“What’s your quirk?”

A little surprised sound lodges in your throat with a bite of baked fish, “My quirk? I thought you figured it out already.”

Keigo raises a feathery eyebrow, “I’m a bit slow these days, starshine.”

The nickname makes something settle pleasantly under your ribs, and the light, little orbs of yellow and orange return to your eyes. 

And heat fills the room, like it had so many times before. Like those first nights in the common room, stargazing in the lamp and starlight. It’s warmth that bleeds between his bones and tendons, through and through.

Keigo puts it all together, jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

Had he never realized it?

It does make sense, in retrospect and without a sinfully heavy dose of painkillers swimming in his veins. The heat that permeated all of the nights you sat, eyeing the stars and each other.

The odd heat of it all. 

You’d been warming the two of you. Souls cold from the sterility of it all. 

“That’s your quirk?” Keigo leans in closer, inspecting the little specks of light in your irises. The tell. “This whole time?”

“U-um, yeah,” You worry a hangnail. “I don’t mean for it to be activating all over the place, but it has been since everything happened.”

“Why’s that?”

You chew the plump of your bottom lip, brows pinched.

Without thinking, Keigo bows to the will of the ever-present, needy feeling in his chest and presses a little kiss to your forehead, willing it to smooth away some of your worry. 

I’m not upset, the action says, but the cabin is quiet.

“... You know how cats purr?”

Keigo quirks an eyebrow, “I do.”

“Well, I think it’s kind of like that,” You met his eyes, the light returning and the fire-like warmth tickling the hair on your arms. “Cats purr when they feel good, but sometimes, they purr when they’re not doing well.”

“... ‘Not doing well’?”

“If they’re in pain, or if they’re really scared,” You go quiet, tracing a seam on Keigo’s jeans. “They’ll purr to comfort themselves. It’s like that.”

Comfort themselves.

No wonder all those nights you spent together, you felt so warm. It was your quirk— 

And you must’ve felt awful. 

Part of him feels betrayed, just for a moment, before it dissolves with the watery look you wear as your injured finger traces over his knuckles. 

And the heat of you flares. 

Your quirk is a part of you.

“I didn’t think to tell you.” Your voice wobbles, yet remains vacant. “‘M sorry.”

You don’t need to apologize.

If anything, the knowledge only strengthens Keigo’s resolve. 

...

The first weeks at the house are odd as you both settle into rhythms of living. There’s an orbit to how you choose to live, though it’s not predictable or reliable. It can’t be, there’s no way for it to be. You float around each other like little planets to a fickle sun, unstable and wavering, but elliptical, nonetheless. 

You’re both learning to be human again with your own rhythms.

Keigo’s biggest challenge is dragging himself from bed each morning. The lazy bones he thought the Commission had broken and beaten out of him still remain somehow. Now that he has no obligations to tend to at the break of dawn, he thoroughly enjoys lazing about in the sheets, even if he’s just staring at his wood-paneled ceiling wishing that Dabi had finished the job and burned him dead.

He’s doing great.

Despite his sluggishness, you move about on your own. 

You make coffee each morning, and curl up on the couch under the same knit blanket. A few patches of the multi-colored throw have been pulled apart by your restless hands. 

Neither of you comment on it.

Though Keigo takes longer to rise, you move far less during the day during those first weeks. You’re tethered to the cushion until the sun goes down.

It’s like the nylon straps at the hospital never left your wrists.

Your vacant nature scares him, if he’s honest. There’s an unspoken, massive wound you carry with you, both physically and mentally, and its manifestation is a little haunting. 

Keigo knows about trauma, knows about how the mind worked and how to, you know, deal with it. He is— was, a hero, for fuck’s sake. Trauma is in the job description and he’d had his fair share of bruises before he went undercover, before he killed Jin (REALLY don’t think about it—), and lost his wings. He’s stitched himself up by filling up his schedule with anything he could. Distractions. Things to occupy him, help him forget for a while. If that didn’t work, he always had a bottle or two of imported soju that he could nurse.

Again, coping.

The state you’re in is the opposite of coping, it’s being. Existing. The strain you carry from everything shows in you, and the way that it’s manifested terrifies him.

Keigo is smart enough to know to keep a few boundaries. He can’t fix you and he can’t get it in his head that he can. He’ll smother you; he knows he will. The solace he finds comes from being there when you need him, and always being close by. 

It’s all he can do to soothe what’s obviously an open wound. He has his own, that you tend to in your own way as well when you can. It’s all give-and-take, naturally and easily. 

You’ll find yourselves on the couch together, leaning and touching so naturally, but with no intent. Your little fingers trace shapes over his clothes, hearts and lettering he can’t catch. The heat of you will cling to him, whether your quirk activates or not.

He holds you, simply and truly. Tries to be a new, kinder being. 

...

You don’t have much that is solely yours. 

You’d been living in an odd combination of Keigo’s clothes and the single outfit you arrived with. It works, enough. Most garments are worn until they’re filthy, but it takes you a little too long to notice. 

Keigo notices.

One day, he sits down with you and his heavy, black credit card and helps you pick out... whatever you wanted. The guy is loaded and will be until he dies, and he’s smitten to help you pick out whatever you need. 

You’re more challenged by the task.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to do this,” you murmur into his collarbones, narrowing your eyes at the laptop screen. “I have enough.”

Keigo clicks his tongue, rubbing the fraying fabric of your shirt, the same, cheap scratchy fabric from the hospital. Your pants are soft cotton, old ones of Keigo’s that he should probably throw away. You adore them, and spend most of your time in them, too.

“You deserve some nice things that are yours, don’t you think?” He coaxes with some extra soft touches as you glare at the screen.

Perhaps, you think to yourself. Your jaw locks.

You deliberately avoided thinking about your lack of... things. The absence of all the bits of you that you had once carried tugs at something deep in your chest. Grief, probably. Loss at the very least. Your home has been torn apart and you have nothing. Not a single remnant of then except you. And you’re hardly a good cast of the existence you once lead. 

The world feels dimmer with the thought. 

...

The house gets cold at night.

It’s inevitable, with the chill of the snowy valleys and peaks slipping through drafty windows and cracks in the woodwork. It slunk into the house once the stars rose, sinking bone deep. It’s easier to ward off during the day. The little stray touches and the ambiance of shared presence helps. 

But, you slept separately. 

It’s cold— so fucking cold in your beds. Keigo hates it. Despises the way how it makes his eyes droop and his body heavier than it should be. Despite not having wings any longer, his other avian traits lingered, and torpor was definitely not in his top three faves. He can only be thankful that he thought to invest in an electric blanket for himself, for his nest.

Though it would be a lot better with you in it, the last thing he wants to do is push you. You’re fragile. Everything is fragile. Keigo has laid awake on more than one night, trying to make sense of all of it, everything and coming to the conclusion that sleeping in his too-big, too-cold bed would have to do.

Sometimes, there’s no way to swallow the state of things.

...

“Your packages are here.”

You look up, eyes wide and sweet.

Oh, yeah. Material goods.

Clothes.

Objects.

It takes a while, but the result of your shopping spree is a small horde of packages down at the town post office, all with your name attached. The idea of so much newness is daunting, but your few remaining garments are threadbare and practically falling apart. It’s necessary, you acknowledge, even if you’re terrified of not living in Keigo’s worn crewneck. 

(Change can be good, you remind yourself. The thought is quiet.) 

Keigo stands by the door, buttoning up his coat and lacing up his boots as you watch from your soft perch on the couch. The blanket has a new, wide hole picked in it, but you don’t notice. 

“Would you like to come with me and pick them up?” Keigo flicks his gaze to you with a careful, easy smile.

You hadn’t left the house since you’d arrived. 

The thought sends your stomach knotting and sweat gathering in your palms. You jerk your head side to side, sinking back down into the cushions.

Keigo doesn’t hold it against you. You can tell by the way his expression softens around his eyes. 

He leaves after kissing you on the forehead a few times, telling you he’ll be quick to return. It’s not often that he leaves, though he’s always timely on coming back. His excursions are never more than a trip to the town market, thankfully. An hour or two feels like a lot, but the too-still air and quiet of the floorboards without Keigo’s pacing unsettles you.

Not having him near unsettles you. The thought of having him gone for too long shoots something hot and needy in your chest.

(Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave—)

Thankfully, just like always, Keigo isn’t gone for long. And he returns bearing a few armloads of packages and some takeout curry. You take it all, and him, greedily. 

(Thank you, thank you, thank you.)

...

It’s a few days later when Keigo wakes to you knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning. 

It had been a... rougher day. You had been a bit livelier early on, joining him on the snowy patio for morning coffee and even taking a quick walk around the neighboring forest. With the snow so deep, you could only go so far though. The motion of it aggravated your injury, left your gasping and clawing at Keigo’s arm as the scar tissue pulled.

The scar is still dead, thank god, but the impact is just as present physically as it is mentally for you.

The rest of the day you spent curled up on the couch, taking little sips of water between short naps. That night, you hardly touched your dinner. Keigo was smart enough to cut up some fruit and lay it with a handful of crackers and offer it to you throughout the rest of the night. You nibbled at the bits, but hardly consumed much at all.

You went to bed early, giving him a hard hug before retiring to your lonely room.

Those days are the worse, the bad ones. They’re the ones where Keigo wants to break all the boundaries he still has. The little touches and kisses he gives you are one thing, but there’s much more he wants to do. Craves doing. But, pushing you too far or too hard would break you. He’s smart. He knows that. So, Keigo doesn’t wait. He satiates all those protective needs. 

He accepts circumstance, just as he always has. 

(He doesn’t understand how much you crave him, but that’ll come later.)

             That night, things begin to shift. 

His voice cracks with sleep as he calls for you to enter. You linger in the door frame, clutching a pillow to your chest, like a scared child who’s had a— 

“Nightmare?” He asks, sitting up and tugging a blanket with him to cover his bare chest. 

The cold air of the cabin hits his scars. He hisses under his breath, shoulders drawing tense. You must notice, eyes going a little wider as you recede from his room. The darkness of the hallway nearly dissolves you. His chest aches, hands tightening around the fabric in his fists. 

“Come back here, starshine, come on,” Keigo calls, praying you’ll heed him. “It’s alright. What’s wrong?” 

Keigo half-recognizes that that’s a very loaded question, but you’re both a bit sleep addled. Maybe it will slide. 

Your eyes alight in the pitch of the room, sputtering with little orbs of amber. Your atrophying arms squeeze the pillow, and you take a few more tentative steps closer. 

“... We’re safe, right?” 

The question surprises Keigo, enough to make his old wounds ache.

One loaded question answered for another.  

It’s reasonable to ask. It’s very reasonable to ponder. Keigo has wondered about it too. The townsfolk don’t know who he really was, and he was quite secretive about the initial move. The world hadn’t caught onto the fact that ‘Hawks’ had moved him and his new love to an isolated little cabin in the woods, and hopefully they never would. Society had a lot bigger problems, according to the over-processed news channel he tuned into on occasion. 

Keigo was old news at this point.

So many heroes had been called out for poor behavior. Scandal after scandal, coverup after coverup. Corruption, everywhere. It was an industry secret, all of the bullshit behind closed doors.  Keigo’s little double-agent schtick and you know, murder of a good man (for the love of god, do not fucking think about Jin) was still bad, but the public had a whole new slew of bullshit to torch people at the stake for.

Still. 

He’s glad no one knows about your little hideaway or you.

“We’re safe, starshine. Very safe.”’

It makes his answer easier to say, more honest. 

You inch closer from the doorway. There’s a tremble in your shoulders that runs to your hands. You’re only wearing a t-shirt and thin shorts, maybe just panties, he can’t tell. Your scar runs down your thigh and calf, gnarling and twisting the flesh it dared to mar. The seam of it is a shining black that Keigo had failed to notice before. 

It reminds him of why you’re so scared and the types of nightmares you must have. 

“... Promise?” You stop at the foot of the bed, throat bobbing with a thick gulp.

Keigo gives a sympathetic smile, patting the sheets next to him, “I promise. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

You look skeptical, but climb into bed with him all the same. 

Something stirs in Keigo’s chest as you do. As he watches you clamor over the sheets and blankets he... nests in, the heat of it fills him. A combination of yours and his own, spills through his ribs and down to his toes.

He shudders with it, something needy wriggling down from

You sit up on your knees, sinking into the mattress and holding the pillow tight to your chest. Watching, eyes still alight and wide.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keigo asks.

You don’t, you both know that, but breaking the silence is a start.

You push the pillow against the headboard, trading it to link your fingers with his, over his chest and pressed to the linens. 

You squeeze and let out a breath you’ve been holding. There’s a weight to it, like there’s something you’re actually carrying. There has been something you have been carrying, but only you are able to see it— feel it in its actuality.

But, that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the burden alone, especially on darkened, lonely nights. 

He tugs you closer, mindful of your tenderness and the scars you both bear. The night is only lit by starlight, and the room is dark with the new moon. It makes it easier to be closer as you settled into the bedding next to him.

It’s uncomfortable for a few moments.

Despite how much contact you share, this feels different. The little touches, kisses and caresses you trade throughout the day are second nature. Comforting someone else who so obviously needs it. His person who needs it. 

(He wonders if you think of him as your ‘person’ too.)

You lay on your side, facing away from him as you fall into his nest, still tense, still on edge and unsure. It reminds him of those first days at the hospital, when you both had lost your tongues and yourselves and just enjoyed the stars together in oddly comforting silence and broken conversation. 

It’s a process, he reminds himself. 

Keigo slides closer, throwing an arm over waist and adjusting the blankets with his other. There’s plenty, piled on top of each other without much reason. Careful hands properly tuck you into it all, next to him, with him. He brings them up to your chin, pressing stray hairs back into place and laying a trailing kiss or two over the back of your neck. 

“... Is it okay if I stay?” Your voice sounds far-off, like the question is more for yourself than for him. 

He can feel the unease and fear still bound up in your shoulders. It’s always there, whether it’s a moonless night or a snow-glitteringly, sunny day. The tension he presses his thumbs into is held in all of the muscle of your back, in your hips, your hands— everywhere.

It makes part of him ache.

A few little coos, soft little rumbles, roll from the back of his throat. 

Normally, he’d be a bit embarrassed. But at the birdish chirps, you’re falling deeper in the sheets, the nest, and against his chest. 

“Please stay,” He assures you with a squeeze. A small comfort, one he’d keep giving. 

 The odd quiet returns, sans the little sounds in his chest. 

Slowly, tentatively, you turn in his arms. Your own lock over his waist, splayed low on his spine. The pads of your fingertips brush scars, the old ones and the new. It makes him writhe a bit in his own skin. It’s unfamiliar, compared to all of the cold prodding and meaningless pleasure he was used to.

It is the closest anyone of familiarity has been to the scars in a long time, and you, preciously, grace him with the softest touch. No expectation in it, just some much-needed, shared bits of love. Once again, precious. 

And you both relax into it all. The ambient thrum of the other's body, the shared breath and smells that mingle between you. There’s little pains and stings that never really go away, but with the other so close, neither of you mind. 

It’s hard to tell when your quirk settles, and the organic heat you create together fills the rooms and your lungs. 

All Keigo knows is that he falls asleep with your lips brushing the hollow of his throat, still and warm against his chest. The feeling of the living rhythm of your body with your breath lulls him off, content and hazy. 

...

You never sleep alone after that night.

Keigo pulls you into his room, or you pad in after brushing your teeth and pulling on your soft, soft sleep clothes. The bed feels a lot less big and lonely with the two of you wrapped up in each other, fully giving in.

It puts Keigo at a remarkable amount of ease. 

The urge in his chest to ‘keep you safe’ feels the most sated at night, when he can keep as close as you both can bear. Your hands always make their home at the base of his spine, or the fat and flesh between his lower back and his rear. The pads of your fingers rub away years of stored tension and weight, quietly and kindly before you fall asleep each night. 

During the day, you’re equally as needy, though you’re slowly becoming a bit more independent. You’re more lucid in general. Though the couch and worn blanket are your greatest comforts (other than him), you’re beginning to stray and poke around the house a bit more. 

The shelves have a few more familiar comforts, things Keigo had slowly accumulated to pass the time. There’s a video game console or two he’d never used, a few stacks of books he’d heard were good, and some tucked away art supplies if inspiration struck. 

As much as he urges you to take and use whatever you’d like, you’re still tentative. The first few times you pluck a crisp book from the shelf, Keigo’s back aches with how the old muscles that once controlled his wings tried to puff-up non-existent feathers. Despite how it tugs at all the wrong parts of him, he still glows at the progress.

You start to help him with dinner too. That’s some of your favorite time. 

There’s a rhythm to it, when you both start preparing meals together. Keigo can’t season food for shit, (though, he’s made leaps and strides with cooking that pats himself on the back for) but he’s quite skilled with a knife. Remnants of his training that have domestic applications. 

He doesn’t tell you that that’s why he’s so good at dicing vegetables and paring meat, he just chatters to fill the air. You tend more to the process of cooking, seasoning and watching and nodding along to his words. 

The more meals you share in creating, the more you start to speak up.  

It’s progress, even in something so small. 

...

But progress isn’t linear. 

It’s not even a goddamn line and it’s fucking infuriating. 

...

The depth of winter bears down on the hills, the house, and the two of you. You’re coping, both of you. But the momentum of it is fragile.

It scares you, secretly and privately. 

You feel fragile, and you have for a long time. Your scar remains tender, gnarled and ugly on your leg. You avoid looking at it at all cost, though Keigo has free reign to graze tender touch nearby it. 

That’s how you find yourselves, leaning on each other on the cushion of the couch and idly watching the glow of the television. Your cheek tucks over his shoulder and you watch with half-lidded eyes. You’re only half-there as Keigo changes the channel.

He hums after a few moments. 

“There’s a storm coming tonight,” Keigo tells you, lips just a touch dry against the shell of your ear. “I’m going to go to town and—”

 Oh wow.

You interrupt, fisting the front of his shirt, “Can I come?”

The question stuns both of you.

Your eyes are honest as you peer up, genuinely unsure if you can.

“Of course, starshine,” Keigo assures. You notice the way his eyes, his pretty eyes, look wide and bright. All for you. Wow. “Let’s get you out of the house, hm?”

Getting out.

Time has stretched out and you can’t remember the last time you left for anything more than a little stroll on the backroads, Keigo on your arm. Going to town and seeing people strikes something odd that has your stomach churning. 

You’re nervous when you finally pile into the car, both bundled up with hats, mittens and scarfs (Keigo wears a mask to better hide his identity, but he’s sure some of the townies have figured him out.) The tasks are simple. Stock up for the coming storm and make sure he pays to plow their little backroad out once the storm passes. Easy, things that wouldn’t take too long, but it still makes your palms sweat. 

Keigo massages your thigh as you drive into town. The comfort of the snowy hills and evergreens disappears, and it has you in goddamn knots. 

You squeeze his hand, locking your jaw. 

“I’m scared.” You break the silence as the small structures of the town come into view. “I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

You haven’t decided again. 

He kneads his thumb into the tension in your thighs with a little smile, “Let’s give it a try.”

“It’s scary, though.”

“I know.”

You pull at a hangnail with your teeth but say nothing else as you roll in and park at the small market.

The first thing you notice is the goddamn doors. Automatic doors.

When you see them, you want to climb back into the car, maybe the trunk for fuck’s sake, and hide like you’ve never hidden before. Go home and bury yourself in a snow pile with how your heart hammers in your chest and your breath catches.

Deep breaths.

You catch yourself, just a little. 

You keep walking, Keigo’s hand in yours and you enter the market like nothing feels as wrong as it is.  

The store is small, but there’s a decent selection, all things given. Keigo places a basket in your hands, tells you to ‘go nuts’ and ‘literally get whatever you want, especially if it’s salty or sweet’ and you heed him the best you can. He busies himself talking to the clerk, organizing with that honey-voice you crave. 

You take a few deep breaths and walk around the market like a normal person. 

(Even though, the last time you were in a situation close to this, you got that nasty, cute scar on your leg.)

(You suppress the thought for as long as you can.)

The basket gets filled quickly, but you stuff it to the brim. Keigo picked out plenty of good food, and had learned how to cook decently, but having some... agency felt nice, if not fucking terrifying.

You’ve got your back turned to the entrance of the store when the (automatic) doors suddenly swish open. 

A chill so cold and hard shoots down your spine and you freeze, hovering over a box of breadcrumbs.

One...

 How long was it between that sound and when he touched you?

 Two...

 This was a terrible idea.

 Three—

 It was four—

 Four—

Four seconds, you propose, as your heart beats out of your chest and you sweat under your arms. Four seconds from the door opening to pain. 

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

Just more voices from the front of the store, a figure entering your aisle and then leaving.

You hate the way you're so rigid, tense enough in your shoulders for it to hurt. The ghost of the wound on your leg makes you want to fall to the ground and writhe, but you grab the box of breadcrumbs and try not to think. 

It works, and you land next to Keigo, presenting your filled basket to be rung up. 

You bury your face into his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Keigo keeps you close, tucked in your side with an arm around your waist. Your anxiety must’ve been quite visible, as he takes to quietly rubbing your shoulders over your sweater.

Things get hazy as you feel safer. Keigo laughs and sways the two of you as he speaks to the clerk. 

(Her sons are going to blow your little house out when the storm passes. The family cat recently got out and came back pregnant. Her husband has been reading some odd literature he found on the internet. Something about ‘the strong triumphant over the weak’. Her daughter might be able to return from her foreign university now that the travel restrictions had been lifted.)

Everything moves forward, even if it’s unpleasant.

It’s an awful reminder at an inopportune time. 

You watch your feet as you crunch your way back to the shotgun side of the car, only relaxing when you hear the doors lock and the engine thrum.

...

The storm comes, just as the faces on TV said it would.

You’re in the country, in the hills and mountains where the weather is already turbulent and changeable. All the same, the overcast skies dump snow over the land and blanket the world in quiet and cold.

Snow silence sucks the sounds from the air, sans the howl of angry wind. 

You’re tucked away and safe. It’s Keigo’s only solace.

After going into town, you keep more to yourself as the storm takes it sweet time rolling in. He recognizes the far off look in your eyes; it’s the one you wore stargazing, but there’s no kind smile on your face. Just a thoughtless frown as you go through the motions of your day.

It makes his chest ache.

(Part of him regrets bringing you with him to the market. It rots part of him, and he can only hope it sprouts again.) 

Finally, when the storm truly comes and the hills get heavy and crisp white, a bit more of you returns. Keigo wants to take the fragments you’re willing to give him and tuck them close, horde them and squeeze. The way he’s gotten abashedly greedy for you has him handsier and needier. 

He’ll take what he can get, and give what he can too.

It’s easiest to bear at night, probably out of habit. Maybe the time in the hospital fucked both of you up (yes, for sure, it did), but nighttime was the time where you were open and easy with each other.

The storm gives the perfect opportunity to all of your time shamelessly twisted together, only leaving for brief coffee breaks and light meals. Otherwise, you’re both nested. 

Pillows and blankets piled on the oversized mattress, all soft against your scars and old scratches. Keigo’s still fond of the color red, he can’t let that go, but he trades in the scarlet that was once his ‘brand’ for a deeper burgundy. All the sensations are rich and velvety, whether it’s the bedclothes you’re wrapped in or the touches you share.

It feels safe.

The feeling is something almost foreign to Keigo. He’s been getting used to it, even as the isolation weighs down on him. No one around means no reason to be so alert. The house isn’t bugged, there’s no villains or Suits watching his every move. He’s just a flightless bird, with no cage, but no captors either.

It feels amazing.

It feels even better that you’re always the heat against his side. That you and your perfect, sweet hands always know how and where to touch. Your words flow easier when you’re so close, so surrounded and so deliciously suffocated.

Keigo fills you up in all the best ways, and you’re finally able to breathe easier.

You tell him your secrets, little stargazing facts and facets of you that you’d held away and far from him before.

“Do you know what cosmic microwave background radiation is?” You ask, sweet as your lips nip at his jaw.

“No, not a clue,” He laughs, the giggle only you get to hear. 

You hum, shifting your thighs so it lies over his. Your hips grind, slow and unhurried as wind rattles the windows.

“It’s this ambient radiation that’s just everywhere, all the time, forever,” You tell him, voice going a little huskier despite the fact you’re talking about theoretical astrophysics. “It’s left over from the Big Bang. A little bit of the beginning that never stops.”

“And how do you know all this?” 

“A documentary, love.”

The questions fade as your lips slide together, lazy hands sliding into each other's hairs. You pull, only lightly, just to bring him closer. Keigo gets greedy, (again, always), licking into your mouth and tasting you. It’s all cheap coffee and the stale mint of toothpaste, and he drinks you down like the finest nectar. He sucks on your tongue, moaning at the way you keen and shift next to him.

It’s not enough. It never is, so he rolls to sit himself over your hips and grab your jaw in a tight grip. He can’t be too forceful, he can’t— his little birdbrain won’t let him do anything too rough to you, even if neither of you would mind it. He tilts your head just right.

You roll your hips up, breath mingling with his as it hitches and shudders from you. It’s so much, so much good, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

Keigo pulls away, eyes half-lidded to take in your own blown pupils. It makes something purr in his chest, to see your eyes already glassy and wide for him. Your neck is thoroughly covered in darkened splotches, already sucked and bitten while the storm sang. 

Little marks of him.

“You’re all mine, you know?” Keigo nearly moans at the way your expression goes gooey and sweetened. He tightens his grip on your jaw just a fraction, enough to make you gasp before he licks and nips below your ear. Just to make sure you hear him. “‘Everywhere, all the time, forever’, I’ve got you.”

“Y-you do,” you gasp as Keigo shifts your sleep shorts off, pushed away forgotten in the nest. The thin tank top you’re wearing is hardly covering anything, not that either of you care. The nearly-sheer fabric of it stretches over your collars and curves beautifully. It does nothing to hide the way your breaths heave or the sweat and heat gathering on your neck.

You’re bared to him.

And if Keigo’s being honest?

You own each other, in the most pleasantly fucked up way.

“Y-You’re so good,” The word holds weight, so much heaviness. Keigo groans, palming one of your breasts and rolling one of your nipples. It’s ambient, something to occupy himself as he resists your words. Just a little—

Your hand slips into the front of his sweats, bare beneath, and wraps around the velvet of him. Thick and hot, firm in your hand but not close enough.

You squeeze, almost in warning.

“You are good.” You gasp as Keigo pulls off you, leveling gazes with you, all pretty eyes reflecting the starshine and snow. He is good. There’s so much more to it than that, but your poor, fucked up little mind can’t synthesis it yet. Only that Keigo is good, warm, safe, and wholly yours. And you’re his. You stretch to ghost a kiss over his lips. “My good boy, always keeping me safe. You keep me so well.”

He stills, even as you slowly pump in his cock. It twitches in your hand, your thighs squeezing between his hips. 

Keigo’s mind races, in the best way.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He murmurs, head tilting and body sagging to drink down your kiss-bruised lips. More, more, more— “You just need to be taken care of.”

“I don’t need to,” You lie, huffing. 

Keigo raises an eyebrow, biting his lips as your grip floats down to his balls, massaging them in your soft grip. It’s tender, weirdly vulnerable, as the whole of you two are.

“Maybe you don’t need to, you’re very capable,” Maybe not right now, but he knows it’s in there. “But you want it.”

“I-I like it,” You scramble the wording, shoving down his sweats, huffing again and urging Keigo to kick them away. Your palm goes to his cheek and drags him closer. “I like you a lot, love you, you know. You make me feel... safe. It’s a good feeling.”

It’s the most honest you’ve been in a long time, and it sits in the air. Keigo remains silent for a moment, silent and trying to control the way his birdbrain wants to take you. Wants to fuck you up and ruin you for anyone else.

You’re his, aren’t you?

“Good girl,” Keigo breaks the tension, squeezing your hips to the point of bruises. His, his, his. “I keep you so good, don’t I?”

You nod, spitting out little affirmatives between kisses. They dot his cheeks and forehead, slipping to his nose and downward. You pull his bottom lip into his mouth, letting out a little half-sob as Keigo’s touch drifts to your cunt, to your clit that’s swollen and untouched. 

More, more, more—

“You keep me so good,” You gulp, whining and grinding into the heel of his hand. Slick coats your sex, sticky and hot. “So, so good—”

Keigo drops down the bed, ignoring the flare of his scar tissue, to seat himself between your thighs. They get thrown over his shoulders with a squeeze. His hands cup your ass, slipping a pillow beneath your hips before eating your cunt like he’d die if he didn’t.

It’s one of his favorite things. Stuffing you full of him until your belly swells is another, or seeing the way his cock opens and stretches you until you’re gasping for breath and begging for more, more, more—

Keigo slips a finger into you without resistance. He curls it, unyielding as he massages the little knot of nerves in you that makes you arch and beg for more, for him.

You choke on a sob when he adds another finger, and he hushes you so sweet, tears prick your eyes. 

“Starshine,” He coaxes, withdrawing only to give your clit, a few kitten licks and slow kisses. His gaze flickers towards yours, holding your wet eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

You nod, the meat of your thighs squeezing around him. Keigo would be happy to die like this, you soft and opened for him, crying for him. Broken and cracking for him, by his tongue, by his touch, Him. His.

“Who takes care of you?” He curls his fingers, and you throw your head back into the nest of pillows. 

“Y-You,” Your voice breaks and you rub at your cheeks. 

“Who knows just how to keep you so well? How to make you feel so good?”

He presses a third finger in, tending to your clit as you cry above him. You’re molten around him, and he laps you up until the smell and taste of you is all he comprehends. 

This is what you both need, isn’t it?

Each other. All of each other.

Your cries turn sour quickly, and it has Keigo jolting up, fingers withdrawn and leaving you to feel empty. The little sobs turned into hiccupping cries, one's stifled with the back of your hand. 

Keigo rises over you, tugging you hand away to get at your cheeks, kissing them soft and sweet. 

It isn’t often that you cry, surprisingly. You probably should more often. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Keigo urges. Please, please, just tell him what the fuck is wrong. He knows, you know, the meat of it all. But please tell him something he can tend to. Something he can stitch up because god, he needs to be useful— “What’s making your cry sweetheart? Tell me.”

You paw at your forehead, “It’s silly.” 

You sniffle and look at him with the most unguarded expression he’s seen you worn. The vacancy is gone, the hollowness and pain has been pulled away in the safety of that perfect nest and all that’s left is—

“‘M scared,” You mumble. Your arms curl over your chest, covering what’s primitively most precious to you. “I’m scared.”

Your eyes grow bright and heat, hotter than anything he’s felt from you, explodes over the room.

He’s half-choking and he fucking loves it. 

Something in his chest snaps and he worries your hair, bringing his nose to yours, nuzzling and nudging your hands away. He nips you. His poor little birdbrain.

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave.”

Keigo stills.

He sits with your fear for a few beats.

“I’d never leave,” He says easily, truthfully and fully. He couldn’t.

Those long nights in the hospital and the warmth passed between you had so easily gotten you wormed his chest, right next to his second and third rib. He can feel it, always; you’re ever present. He grabs your arms and holds them to yours sides. You’re exposed, soft flesh and squirming a bit beneath him. He wants to mark you purple and near-bloody, so that no one would think of you as anything other than his.

His, his, his.

He shows you.

Worn hands, a bit chapped with the dry air, pull your high to rest on his shoulders. He massages your calves, kissing your ankles.

“I mean this real lovingly, starshine,” He breaths deep, fisting his cock with a few slow strokes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t get a chance to protest as he slides into you in one stroke. The stretch of him has you burning; he can tell by the way your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his shoulders as your little cries only get harder.

“Bear it, I know you can,” You had before, and you would many times more. The stretch feels amazing, even if it burns something in your core. You like it, how the pain pricks something that shoots into your toes. Only Keigo gets to fuck you up, gets to own you. “You’re always good f-for me— f-fuck, so fucking good—”

His, his, his.

There is, of course, the inverse.

You grab his jaw, your grip tight like his was earlier, and you meet his gaze. You blink away tears, sniffling, but expression set with determination.

“You’re mine too,” You squeeze around him, grinding down to the root of his cock. “‘M only good for you because you’re mine too, Keigo. All of you.”

Without thought, your hands ghost over his scars.

You have avoided them for so long. It was an untouched spot, something tender and from a time where Keigo was being that was entirely and wholly different from who he is now. It’s a piece of him that’s always been off-limits.

But you’re both so cracked open, you do it without thought.

And something in Keigo snaps.

He pushes you down by the backs of your thighs, folding your legs to your torso. And he fucks you.

His hips slam against yours, opening you up with pants and groans. You feel full, full of him in every and all ways, everywhere, always, and forever. 

You’re greedy with your touches, tugging him closer and uncaring of the way your nails scrap over his shoulders and arms. His body is yours and you’re his. It’s disgusting, it’s fucked up and perfect the way you slot together. It’s like little, scared pieces of existence slide together, and everything feels whole, yet open and uncracked.

Keigo fills you up with a sob, tears dripping down his cheeks as you pressed down on the burns and scars that rack down his back.

“Fill me up,” You demand, the heat of you swelling as his hand dips to your clit, circling and rolling with the little pleas falling from both your lips.

The world drips as his thrusts go harder, sloppier as you tip your head back and scream. Your voice breaks, hoarse from all your pleading and possession. 

Keigo stuffs you, tip of his cock pressed to the deepest parts of you. His cum, all him, leaks from around his cock as he gives a few more weakened grinds. He makes sure you’re full, content and sated and his.

He falls over you, coating your cheeks in kisses and praise. You sputter little sobs for him, begging for him to be closer, despite the way he still fills you even as he softens.

It never feels like enough, the closeness. But you’ll settle for all of him that you can get. 

...

The storm passes, and you spend your time much the same way. Fucking, feeling, and for a little, blessed while, forgetting.

Eventually, the snow stops falling. The wind that has been whipping the power into tree trucks and your windows falls still. It’s peaceful, then. Not that it wasn’t before, but without the weather bearing down on you, you’re both less hungry. Still greedy, just not starved.

You share the first morning after the storm outside, on the porch. Keigo had shoveled a little clear patch and you’d brushed off the two, brittle lawn chairs that had seen better days. You fixate on the task a bit too much, the steaming coffee you’re to share is forgotten. The straining plastic of the chairs is a yellowed-white and bright red. It felt strong enough under your fingers, cold fingers, as you cleared away the snow. 

It feels like a remnant

Whatever fixation you have on the object passes as Keigo runs a hand up your spine. His hand is wide and warm, still a bit warm from the toasty mugs.

You rearrange your chairs and yourselves to be close as can be, in your little patch of snowless porch, and sip at your coffee as the world begins to wake up. 

...

Oddly enough, the storm helps you make forward progress, at least a little. You take up making breakfasts on your own, occasionally carrying plates into the bedroom with a big, previously unseen grin

Keigo returns the smile so big, his cheeks burn for hours. 

You take to a few of the little crafts and things Keigo has been hoarding. Paper folding and little canvases with acrylic painting are your favorites. Sometimes, you paint your little strokes and press creases from the comfort of the couch. Other times, you make you place for the day at the kitchen island while Keigo makes his day-long meals. 

There’s a rhythm to it that’s so good.

It’s progress, and seeing it visibly start to the fill the walls feels good for both of you. Your little canvases get hung around the cabin, little portraits of the stars and their mother, all for you and Keigo to admire. ;;

 ...

             He gets the call exactly three weeks after the storm passes. 

Keigo awakes before you to the shrill ring of his cell. It vibrates against the bedside table, loud enough to wake the both of you. You both startle out of sleep, squeezing each other. 

He takes the call in the other room, after he sees the contact name.

[Suits] Calling...

 He paces as he listens to her drone on.

There’s no greeting, no “hey, how does it feel to be a flightless fucking failure?”. It’s business. Just business. It’s always been like that with her, and the lot of suits that treated him like a fixture until he got particularly cracked and unsightly.

“So, you come into Tokyo, we’ll do a small event—”

“The event you’re describing really doesn’t sound small,” Keigo tilts his head and gives an angry smile to his own reflection in the mirror. “It sounds like a circus that I really have no interest in being a part of.”

“It’s for the people, Hawks—”

It makes him snap.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” He growls into the receiver, grip tight enough to hurt. “Stop calling me, stop asking me, I am not coming back.”

The woman is silent on the line for a beat, before spitting, “What if I didn’t give you a choice?”

His blood runs cold before burning in his veins. And he laughs.

“You think you could?” He only feels a little hysterical. “You don’t have any power, not over me, not over anyone else as far as I’ve seen, Madam President!” 

“Hawks—”

Shut up, shut up, shut UP.

“The Commission is dead, the world is in chaos, and putting the corpse of a hero on the big screen isn’t going to convince anyone that this is all fixable,” Keigo chest gets tight, and he can’t tell if it’s from the uncomfortable laughter he’s spitting or the sobs that are locked in his chest. 

“So, you’d rather turn your back on the people you swore to protect?” Suits speaks with no emotion, not an ounce of feeling. “Selfish.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish. The word echoes in his mind, worms its way down his throat and suffocates him. 

“You’re really going to say that to me? Of all fucking people?” He feels his nails break skin where he’d been clenching his fist. “Me, selfish?”

“You left, didn’t you? Ran away?” The woman has the stones to fucking laugh. “Everyone’s lost something. You’re not special, and it doesn’t justify—”

“What the fuck are you getting out of this?” Keigo interrupts, burning, burning— “Did you call me to go to this little gala or did you call to dig into your perfect little hero? You told me I could be done. Should’ve known you were lying, you always lie—”

“You’re being childish.”

“Oh my GOD!” Keigo nearly screams and doesn’t notice how you’ve tip-toed from the bedroom. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I hear you screaming at me, the woman who practically raised you, like some petulant brat. Get a grip, Hawks.” 

He snaps.

“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT!” He screams into the phone, vision going white and scarlet. “I am not Hawks! Hawks is DEAD! Why can’t you understand that? There’s no fucking hero to attend your little ‘healing’ gala, there’s just me. ‘Childish’, ‘selfish’, and wingless, babe. That’s what I’ve got, and this is what I am.”

Suits takes an audible sigh, and Keigo can almost see how she’s shaking her head at him, “You’re being ridiculous, Hawks. Take at least a goddamn ounce of responsibility for your actions that helped cause all... this.”

Ah, there it is. The thing Hawks has so properly compartmentalized, tucked so far back in his psyche that it’s almost impossible to reach.

How much of the dissolution of... everything is on him?

Something in him snaps, and it slips through his own fingers. 

  “I’m not going and this, Madam President? This is for me.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

He hears her unspoken words echoing in his skull as he hangs up, slamming the phone on the countertop.

Something hotter than rage and more poisonous than pain fills his blood, and it makes him want to both wretch and break his fingers in the same breath. He slams a fist onto the phone, cracking it against the countertop. He can buy a new one— 

“S-Sweetpea?”

Keigo freezes.

You’re at the mouth of the hallway, hardly out of the shadows, eyes wide and fearful. His chest somehow gets even tighter. 

Normally, he would’ve rushed to comfort you, calmed himself down to console you for seeing his little outburst.

But he doesn’t that day.

He breaths ragged with his lips slowly curling, panic’s ugly cousin turning his spit acrid behind his teeth.

“Here, let’s go back to bed, okay? We can—” You take a few steps closer, hand outstretched and eyes beginning to light.

Oh, and Keigo’s hit by fucking envy, and it’s over. 

“Don’t.” 

You freeze, “Pretty eyes—”

“Don’t, just don’t.”

You don’t move as Keigo trudges to the door, throws on his thick parka and snow boots, pocketing his keys and grumbles to you that there’s leftovers in the fridge.

It’s shitty and selfish.

And he just doesn’t care.

He can’t make himself care as the door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing off the trees and so quickly dampened by the snow. 

...

Keigo drives, white noise in his ear that echoes the wind in the treetops of the mountains he’s descending. He’s only half there as he leaves town. 

It’s still too much. 

...

You, on the other hand? 

You’re frozen, stuck-still, as you watch Keigo climb into the car and drive off. Maybe your mouth has gone a bit agape, you aren’t aware of your body. 

You panic. 

There’s no other word for it, not that you were able to think of as you were untrenched in it. 

There’s something thick and knotted that is rolling unraveling in your chest. The... thing is worse than a feeling and runs deeper and hotter than you can manage.

You tried to manage it.

While Keigo is god fucking knows where, you paced the house, always within eyeshot of a window. Hoping for a glimpse of his dark parka, or the tufts of his blonde sticking out in the snow, a return—

Fucking nothing.

He just left.

No return time, no destination, just a departure with no explanation. He’d obviously left the cabin before, you’d handled those times quite well, but he’d never stormed out. Never raised his voice and screamed and then just left. 

Is he okay? 

(You heard most of the call, at least his side of it. Is that awful Hero Commission he told you about calling him back? Or even worse, dragging him away.)

(He’d tell you, wouldn’t he?)

(Guess you’ll never know! Because he’s fucking gone.)

It made something seize in your chest, hot and awful as you walked your circuit, praying. Worry is damning. 

How could he just... leave?

You need him back.

You alone without him.

Your thoughts rot you, despite the winter’s cold outside. The chill of the cabin seeps into your bones, coats them and leaves you sticky and downright paranoid. The lack of... presence (his presence) was driving you up a wall. The air is too still, the floors quiet and without the telltale old creaks of movement that you’ve become accustomed to, and the cabin is silent other than your breathing and rabbit’s heart.

Beneath the anger was a thick layer of fear. 

You are alone.

The feeling rolled its way into you as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

What if he never comes back?

Of course he is, you remind yourself, hurriedly, worrying the scary on your leg and picking at the core of it. He wouldn’t leave.

Why wouldn’t he?

The thought gets your poor little heart racing faster, air choking in your lungs. Your head whips to the window to see the empty, snowy driveway.

“I-I’m alone,” You break the silence of the house, the walls answering with their pensive quiet and the wind shaking the fresh snow from thin branches just outside.

All alone.

All fucked up and broken and fucking alone.

“He wouldn’t leave,” You start talking to yourself, threading a hand in your hair, gripping. “He cares, he wouldn’t just leave.”

He cared about being a hero too and he left everyone else.

What if things changed? 

Insecurities, new ones and old ones, cloud your mind and vision and stuffed your lungs. The grip on your hair goes tighter. 

All alone in the mountains.

All.

Alone.

It scares you more than anything, how much you need him.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you tug at the roots of your hair. It hurts, but everything is starting to hurt very quickly, and a bit of hair pulling is child’s play to how it feels like your chest is being hollowed out.

You really have so little. It stuns you in the moment as you choke back a sob. The little house in the mountains, Keigo, and the starlight you still both enjoy— that’s fucking it. You’d never returned to your ‘apartment’, or rather the remnants of it. Any possessions you had were lost to destruction and unsalvageable. Your meager relationships and friendships had fallen away when you were bound to hospital for months.

He’s all you have.

“No, no, no,” You nearly trip in your pacing, dragging your feet as you accept your reality. “He can’t l-leave.”

The world responds with silence. The mountains are cold and lonely, just like you are. It’s cruel, it all hurts and after being in a daze so often, the reality of your situation hurts like a hot brand.

He’ll come back.

He cares.

You desperately try to convince yourself as you tug your parka on, throwing on your boots. You don’t bother to fasten or tie anything, you just stumble onto the deck blindly and scan the hill of the drive.

Not a single soul.

Something rotten curls up behind your teeth. Bile climbs the back of your throat and you have to swallow to keep from vomiting. Your chest is too tight, the world is too bright, and you’re terrified.

You’re not sure what to call the type of panic response you have; it doesn’t make any logical sense. Your heart runs in your chest, your breath is hot and tight, and you simply slip to the ground in the fresh snow.

And you wait.

...

Keigo drives until he’s nearly out of town, into some flatlands near the river that gurgles and churns nearby. The surrounding forest is the perfect place for a pensive walk. 

It’s the best place for him to just get it out.

It had been a long time since Keigo had just talked to himself. Audibly sorts himself as he walks along the bank of the almost-frozen river. He doesn’t keep his voice quiet, no, its full volume complaining. It’s anger that’s bundled up in his chest that’s finally being lit and the smoke of it nearly chokes him out. 

It’s not fair.

He does feel a bit childish, thinking about it like that. But hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t they told him that he’d done enough? He lost it all and was just starting to the plant the seeds for a new life to sprout. Couldn’t he just have that? He’s not the shiny thing he used to be he’s fucking worthless. And that’s fine. He’s made peace with it and can find worth outside of saving people.

He’s capable. Adaptable. And he’s doing it all at his trademark speed.

But the thing that makes his gut twist is facing everything he (ran away from) left behind. The only short statement he’d given after Dabi’s video was nearly as viral as the actual video of him killing Jin (don’t think about it, don’t think about it—) 

He’s not sure what possesses him to pull out his phone and pull up the video. It’s not hard to find. 

It hurts to watch, but he does it anyway. Fucking masochist. 

He’s standing beside Enji and Tsunagu, all of them in hastily tailored suits. They all had their visible injuries. Scars and brands that had just been carved and burned into skin. They look haggard, they look beaten. 

Because they were.

Keigo watches as he adjusts his microphone in the video and gives his statement. Stupidly simple and vague, all at the same time.

“The villain Dabi did not lie. I am the son of Takami, and I killed Twice of the League of Villains. It was all necessary. Please accept my apology for the upset I have caused.”

His voice doesn’t even sound like him. It’s manufactured and broken. He remembers how the smoke had charred his throat and lungs for the first few days, before he was transferred from Central to the big facility in the tall-tree-ed forest. 

He bows on the video and Enji begins his statement. Something solemn about the suffering he’s caused his family, how he wants to atone and how he is atoning. The public was too angry to listen and is too angry to listen. And the world Keigo ran from is the result. 

He lets himself cry.

Finally.

His shoulders shake as he hunches over himself. The tears slip down his chilled cheeks and make little divots where they fall into the snow beneath him. His little gasps turn into sobs, the kind that hurt your chest and give you a headache that lasts for days.

He repeats a little mantra between scratchy breaths—

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

He falls against the thick bark of a tree and slides down to the ground. 

He let’s go.

It’s good for him, cleansing. Maybe it’s the rushing of the nearby river or the snow he's buried his hands in, but with each ragged breath he can feel some of that filth that’s clinging to him fall away. Not all of it, not by a long shot. 

But feeling the worst is the first step to feeling your best. 

So, when Keigo’s ready, he stands and moves forward. Trudges onward, albeit a bit slower. 

...

Keigo returns home just as the sky begins to change from red to indigo with the night. It paints the pines and evergreens an eerie, dark color, shadows long and deep against the fluffy snow.

His gut twists in knots as he gets closer to home. 

He’s tired. Exhausted. His eyes are still puffy from his tears, sore and aching. His body still feels tight, tense in his shoulders and arms as he grips the steering wheel. He needs rest. A good cup of tea and maybe a beer later. 

And you.

As weak as Keigo feels, he knows he fucked up... just a bit. 

It wasn’t fair to storm out. He isn’t dumb. All the same, if he stayed with you in the cabin, he probably would’ve said something he regretted. Or locked himself in the bedroom all day. It wouldn’t have been good or fair for you or him. 

(Coward.)

Probably, but he was also burned alive fairly recently, so he had to give himself a bit of credit. 

As he nears, his stomach drops. 

You’re on the porch. You sit on the steps, parka pooling around your waist as your head rests on your knees.

Something’s not right.

Some of his old, honed senses trill to life, seeing you. Something in his gut twists, the muscles in his back tense, the old ones that controlled his wings. 

You must be cold. 

Keigo leaves the car and slaps on a smile, “Waiting for me, starshine?” 

You twitch, curling over your body harder. 

Something is very wrong— 

He calls your name, your actual name, and you hardly stir. You all but twitch from where you sit, head tilting up just the slightest bit.  It’s not enough to ease any of the worry pulling his old muscles, if anything, it makes it worse.

He falls to his knees in front of you, ignoring the crack his bones make.

“How long have you been out here?” Too long, he knows the answer, but he still has to ask.

“... A while,” You murmur, barely audible. “You’re back.”

“I am,“ Keigo pushes you up by your shoulders, scanning your face as more fear curls in his gut. 

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused.

“We need to get you inside, now,” He isn’t sure if he sounds scared or angry (probably both), and he can’t make himself care. 

You’re freezing.

Too cold, way too cold.

Keigo had to take plenty of survival courses during his training with the Commission and he had learned plenty about hypothermia. His avian anatomy made him more susceptible to the cold and knowing the symptoms for himself kept him from turning into a bird-adjacent popsicle more than once. He’d rescued his handful of civilians—

(Don’t think about being a hero right now or you’re gonna start crying again.)

You’re not some civilian, you’re you and you’re in front of him with darkened lips and dull eyes and full panic breaks his ribs.

...

You remember how pretty red the sky was.

You like sunsets. 

You should see if Keigo wants to watch the sunset sometime.

Keigo’s gone.

You could drive—

Keigo drove away. You’re alone.

You aren’t sure how long you sat in the chill, but it was comforting despite how your fingers and toes began to ache. Outside, there were plenty of sounds and sights to keep you company. The wind whistled through trees, and the sky echoed a few, far-off sounds from distant civilization. 

It was nice. Peaceful, at the very least.

...

“Inside, you need to be inside,” Keigo sputters, pulling you up under your arms. Your feet drag for a moment before going flat, and you sway in his arms. 

Getting you inside makes his body ache in new ways, your weight mostly on his side. Old pains crawled to the surface as he dragged you to the couch, setting you down on the cushion and assessing you better.

His hands run over your body, over curves and divots he knew and loved and the chill of you filled him with dread.

“Your pants are wet from the snow,” Keigo swallows, rising. “I’m going to grab you dry clothes.”

As soon as he tries to move away, you catch his wrist in a weak grip.

And finally, half-lucidly, you regard him with terror in your eyes.

“You l-left,” You spit, lips curling over your teeth. “You left, Keigo.”

You use his real name and he really wants to die a little. 

Sure, Suits used it on the phone with him and it made him see blood fucking red, but it’s you, and you saying the name he never really had, for the first time, so fucking angrily makes part of his secretly fragile heart break.

He freezes, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly. “Let me get you warm, then we can talk, okay?”

You don’t look convinced, tightening your grip on his wrist and pulling him closer.

Keigo gives in, so, so easily, dropping to his knees and pulling your icy hands into his. He rubs warmth into them, bringing them to his lips and breathing hot over your knuckles.

“Please, starshine. Let me get you warm.”

“I’m already warm,” Your voice slurs, entirely unconvincing.

“I say this very lovingly,” He says, somehow cracking a smile, “but you’re genuinely hypothermic. You can be as mad at me as you want, but you need to get warmed up.”

You chew your lip, cupping his cheeks with your freezing palms, “... You’re not leaving?”

Your voice drawls and Keigo makes a note to turn up the thermostat.

“No, god, no, I’m not,” He tries to assure you, shaking his head, but your grip only gets harsher. He placates you with a squeeze to your knee. “Please let me help.”

He can’t tell you how much he needs to. How hyper aware he is of your chill and of his own thumping heart. That protective urge in his chest wants to just pull you to his chest and wrap you up in him, in his heat, but that’s for later.

Your eyes' gaze goes softer, little specks of light bouncing between your irises. The room fills with blessed, familiar heat and Keigo can feel his shoulders slacken and some of the worry in his chest dissipate.

...

He returns with some of his own soft joggers, fleece-lined and well-loved. He grabbed a few layers, and an armful of blankets and pillows. Anything he could carry gets brought as his little, avian mind craves something he suppressed for years so well.

Nest, nest, nest.

Heat them first, then nest. 

He helps you slip into your new, dry clothes as your teeth begin to chatter. Thank fucking god. Keigo is smart enough to check your toes as he slips onto fuzzy, thermal socks, and they all look to be healthy and functioning. 

You’re quiet during the whole ordeal, save for soft breathing and snapping teeth. You occasionally grab his hand and hold it to whatever part of your skin was bared, mumbling something about how warm he is. 

Keigo eventually gets you settled and surrounded by blankets and pillows which you sink into, eyes hardly open. Only then does he feel like he can pull away enough to start the nearby fire.

It feels somewhat unnecessary, given you’re still heating the room. It’s probably somewhat for the atmosphere, considering the sky is nearly fully black. A bit of crackling flame and light would do you both good. 

(He rarely lights fire, but considering the flame is a kind red and not a fucking disgusting blue, he can bear it. Especially now.) 

When the fire is stoked, he turns back to you and deflates. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, all soft and half-lidded from the blankets. “That was... dumb.”

“It was.” 

Keigo can’t fight you on the obvious. 

There’s a goddamn list of questions he wants to ask you. ‘Why’s and ‘what’s, but he has a pretty good idea of why you were sitting outside and what you were thinking. 

He’s not sure you’d want to talk about it anyway. 

The couch creaks when he sits down a few feet from your little nest, running a tired hand over his face.

“... You know, this couch folds out,” You shift a little, slow and lethargic. Still cold. “We should sleep out here tonight.”

He turns to regards you, and it takes everything in him not to fucking break.

“Why?” His voice shakes and he knows you can tell.

You hum, leaning toward him, “Change of scenery. I think we could both use it.”

“Later.” Keigo agrees. The urge to wrap you up in his (wings) arms feels unbearable, the little avian tickings in his skull loud and needy. “Warm first. Futon later.”

You huff weakly, but lift the blankets to let Keigo slip behind you. His body curls around yours, finding the coldest parts of you and tending to them first. His hands clasp over yours and your feet get tucked between his calves. 

“Thanks,” You murmur, neutral and vacant.

Keigo doesn’t push you.

Instead, you stay tucked in his arms, still shivering, but significantly less cold. Your lips and cheeks look a far healthier color and they’re warm to the touch. He traces his fingertips over the curves of your face and neck, preening in the only way he can muster up.

You eventually break the silence, when the fire is all but embers.

“I heard some of that call…” Your voice trails off. “It sounded bad.”

“It was,” Keigo agrees with a little nod. He really doesn’t want to think about Suits and, you know, the rest of the world, but it feels necessary. “Very bad.”

“Who was it?”

“Old boss.”

“… And?”

Keigo sighs, squeezing you probably a little too tightly, “Why don’t we focus on warming you up from your hypothermic excursion and not my shitty life as a shitty hero—”

“You weren’t a shitty hero, Keigo,” He can hear the mourning in your voice and it makes him want to die, just a little. You cup his cheeks, eyes sad and soft around the edges. “You were a really good one.”

“Was I? News to me.” He laughs, the bitter sound tasting like bile. He hates it, the feel of it mixed with the heat and softness of you. It feels wrong. “I don’t want to talk about all that, starshine. Please just drop it.”

Your face hardens.

“No.”

“… No?”

“No, I’m not done,” You sigh, big and hard. “I think we’re more fucked up than we talk about, Keigo.”

He winces, but you keep going, and he doesn’t move to stop you.

“Probably.”

Your jaw sets like stone on stone. It makes him internally wince as your hands go to cup his cheeks.

“I’m fucked up, you’re fucked up, everything is fucked up. We can ignore it up here, quietly, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

Yes.

“Yeah.” He feels his gut roll, but he doesn’t stop you. His grip goes tighter on your hips. “You’re not wrong.”

“Can we just… Acknowledge it? Please.” You ask, beg, softly as you rub his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Keigo.”

He doesn’t know what to do at first. He really wants to lock up. Shut down. Lock all the nasty feelings in chest, behind his heart, so they can burrow into his spine and keep him moving forward.

He wraps his hands around your wrists.

Your eyes look glassy, tears sticking in your bottom eyelashes, but not daring to fall. Not yet.

“Keigo, I’m fucked up, I know that, and that’s okay,” You deflate a little. “I’m getting better. We’re getting better. I know we are.”

“We a-are.”

Keigo’s voice cracks, hoarse in his throat and tight as the uniform belt he used to wear. His lungs feel hot, too stuffed even as he tries to swallow the heat that’s welling up on the very back of his tongue.

“You are good, Keigo, I promise,” You lean in to give his forehead the lightest kiss and Keigo feels part of himself die in the best way. “Please, let’s just talk.”

And so, he does.

…

He tells you about Jin first.

You’d heard about him, the villain Hawks killed during the War. Published for the world to see, over and over, forever. The video was one you’d only seen once, during your early days at the hospital, but you could recall the footage on your grainy hospital television.

Your pretty eyes, pretty Keigo, cut him down. One of his old feathers, hardened into a stiff blade, struck Jin across the chest, arcing up to his neck and slicing a few important arteries  and veins. It was an imperfect job, one that probably made his death more painful and prolonged than it needed to be.

You don’t let go of Keigo’s cheeks as he tells you the story. You can’t, you’re too busy thumbing away the little tears that roll down his cheeks.

He speaks between sobs that break from his chest. Underused and much-needed.

“He was good, starshine,” Keigo curls in a little on himself, but you keep him mostly upright. “I had to, y-you know? I didn’t have a choice, if I didn’t—"

How many more people would be dead?

His body convulsed, the little tears turning fat as he collapsed into your chest and buried himself in you. Like he was hiding, and god, did you let him.

You hushed him, soothed him with little kisses, and listened.

“And then Dabi—”

You hate him, obviously. You only know his name and visage, and you hate him so much it hurts. Part of you wants to rub at his scars like he lets you, but you decide against it in Keigo’s fragility.

He tells you of the blue flames, how the boot felt against his back, how his throat burned for weeks from the heat and smoke. His grip on you goes so tight, you’re afraid he’s going to tear your shirt to shreds.

“He took them, starshine,” Keigo’s voice muffled into your shoulder, the sound of it rattling you. “He t-took them!”

And he slumps against you, well and truly, and can’t muster up another word. All you could do is hold him, rocking him from your little, shared spot on the couch and whisper to him little comforts. You’re crying a little too, breath tight and hazy as you let Keigo shatter in your arms.

He’s not ready to talk about his wings and that’s okay. More than okay.

So, you soothe him. He soothes you right back, rubbing at your sides, hips, thighs— whatever he can reach and touch and claim. You’re good, you’re the closest he’s going to get to permeance and he’ll be damned to let you go when you feel so good and he feels so fucking awful.

You fall back onto the chest, pulling Keigo with you so he can lay atop you. His ear presses to your chest, heart thumping in his ear while you lock your arms around him. Caged in and held, with the lightest pressure on the thick skin of his scars.

“I’ll never truly get it, I can’t,” You admit, quietly as you smooth back some of his tear-matted hair. “But I want to be here. I want to listen when you’re want to talk. Need to talk. You can dash off on your own, Keigo, that’s okay. Just know that I’ve got you to, okay?”

Keigo sniffled, peering up at you with wide eyes, “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I am now, aren’t I? Just a few hours out from nearly being a popsicle,” You hum and joke, glowing from the inside out when Keigo graces you with a little smile.

It takes a few more moments for him to cover, haul himself up to the crook of your neck and breathing hard and deep for a while. Like he’s trying to absorb you through scent alone.

“… Are you okay?” Keigo asks, squeezing you so tight it hurts. (And you want more of it.) “You’re not as cold anymore.”

“I’m feeling okay,” You paw at your face a bit, rubbing your cheeks like they’re still numb and not flushed with blood and sticky with drying tears. “I just freaked out a little.”

“… Because I left?”

You nod, chewing your lips.

“I don’t want to be alone, Keigo,” You whisper it, though he already knows your admission. “I’m terrified of you leaving.”

“When I left,” Keigo rises to meet your gaze, gooey and cobbled. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back?”

“… Maybe,” You shake your head, refusing to look at him. “You didn’t say anything about coming back, just about… leftovers.”

You both frown.

“I panicked.” You shake your heard.

“… That’s what happens when you panic?”

“I guess?” Your mouth feels too dry. “I don’t know. I got scared. I panicked. What else was I supposed to do?”

There’s an obvious answer or two, but it’s unspoken.

“I’m not leaving,” Keigo rubs at your cheeks. “You’re gonna have to try pretty hard to get me gone, starshine. I love you too much to go easily.”

It’s a declaration, a strong one, and god does it feel fucking good to hear.

“… Promise?” You ask him as his palms cup your cheeks and jaw.

“Promise.”

“I heard on the call—”

Keigo interrupts you with a kiss, hard and long that steals your breath and makes your head spin.

“Promise.” Keigo breaths, pretty eyes meeting your heat-filled ones. “Everywhere, all the time, forever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a start, even if that insecurity is so deeply rooted. The adoration in his eyes, and the sweetness of his touch tempers it all. It’s there still, just like how there’s so much unspoken that needs to be sorted, chewed on, and digested.

But now?

The embers in the hearth need another log or two. The futon needs to be folded out and I’d be best if you shared a cup or two of tea. Preferably something with lavender that’ll scent the cabin with the smells of spring and herbs.

Now, you’re both more than enough.

…

thank you for reading!!💞keep an eye out for part 3! 👀

ko-fi

[novelconcepts]

i think always about the scene where dani and flora were about to escape the manor before viola showed up, and flora asks where are they going dani said “i don’t know” or something. do you think that if they succeed to leave the house dani would’ve tried to reach jamie? after all they in theory had a date in the pub, so in theory dani knew the little flat above the pub…

It's complete luck, Dani will think later. True idiot luck, nothing more--maybe the first lucky thing to happen in the last hour. Absolutely, they shouldn’t find the village at all. Absolutely, they shouldn’t have managed it: a grown woman with no car, no idea where she’s going, and an eight year old girl sobbing against her shoulder as she runs. They should wind up lost in the dark, staggering desperately in a circle, maybe turning right back up where they started. 

Utter luck, that the adrenaline holds out, that the darkness doesn’t swallow them whole, that she finds herself stumbling through the door of a ramshackle little pub with Flora. Shouldn’t happen. Some tiny part of her wonders if this isn’t the magic of Bly, extending far beyond the reach of that house. Some tiny part of her thinks, If it can reach this far, what’s stopping them from doing the same?

“Hey,” the old man behind the bar snaps. “You can’t bring her in here!”

“Please.” Her head is pounding. Her throat is raw. Screaming hoarsely into a gag will do that to a person. “Please, I’m looking for--for Jamie...”

She trails off, realization striking: she doesn’t even know Jamie’s last name. A woman she somehow feels she’s known forever, a woman she is painfully certain she is already growing to love in ways Eddie couldn’t have pulled out of her with an infinite lifetime, and she doesn’t know her last name. It would be hysterically funny, if she could remember what laughter tasted like. 

More good luck, sweeping in like a thunderstorm: the old man is nodding, though he still looks uneasy at the sight of Flora’s puffy red eyes. At the sight, too, of Dani’s rubbed-raw mouth. They must look awful, a pair of ghosts in their own right, crashing into the easy calm of his night. 

“She know you’re comin’?” he asks gruffly, and Dani shakes her head. “But she knows you.”

He’s looking at Flora, and Dani wonders if the small-town awareness Owen has spoken of with such irritation extends to the Wingrave children. Probably. Probably everyone in town knows the miserable story of two orphans left to cope in that big old haunted house. 

“She knows,” Dani says, when it becomes clear Flora is incapable of her usual boisterous chatter. “Please. Can you call her?”

He makes a face, his hand straying to the black plastic handset behind his head. “Fine, but if you’re lyin’, it’s only fair I warn you she's got a temper--”

Dani lowers Flora onto a stool, leans her weight against the bar, presses a hand to her head. This is insane, she tells the spooling pressure in her chest where air does not seem willing to flow. This is insane, to think there are ghosts pulling at the Wingrave children’s strings, pulling at Miles even now.

Miles. She left him. She left Miles, Rebecca Jessel’s warm voice still ringing in her ears. It’s too late. Too late. Too--

“Dani?” Jamie’s voice, just behind her. She can’t bring herself to lift her head and look. It’d be so much sweeter to remember her last image of Jamie instead, the last glimpse of normalcy drunk greedily in with no knowledge of what would come next. There will be other nights. Promise. Jamie’s hands curled around her own. Jamie’s kiss pressed to her lips with uncharacteristic euphoria. Jamie had giggled, and Dani had felt ten feet tall, the luckiest woman in the world, the richest--

“Flora.” Jamie is bending, a hand pressed to Flora’s face, smoothing back the sweaty mess of her hair. “What’s going on? Where’s Miles? What are you--”

Flora makes a hitching sound, and Dani imagines trying to explain it--not to Jamie, who believes her so readily even when there’s no reason, but to Henry. Henry Wingrave, trusting her with his brother’s children. Henry Wingrave, who she’ll have to face and say, Sir, I did my best, but you never warned me about the ghosts--

“C’mon.” Jamie’s uttered that word once before, an incontrovertible command. Last night, taking Dani’s hand in the kitchen, leading her out to take in flowers and stories. She doesn’t quite do it the same way now--her hand brushes the small of Dani’s back instead of her fingers, urging her gently along--but Dani can hear that same calm charge in her voice. It’s as though Jamie understands something has broken, and has chosen stability in answer to the too-big horror strangling Dani’s ability to explain. 

She lets herself be propelled through the pub, through a door at the back, up a flight of stairs. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she’s loosely aware that it shouldn’t be this way--that she should have visited Jamie’s flat for the first time on Jamie’s schedule, in Jamie’s truck, with Jamie grinning at her over a beer. But, then, what about tonight has gone to plan? What about tonight has been right?

“Sit,” Jamie says, urging her visitors toward a lumpy couch at the center of the small room. She looks calm, though Dani suspects it’s the kind of calm that might at any moment crack open. “Talk.”

An invitation, more than a demand. Dani buries her head in her hands.

“It’s crazy. It’s crazy.”

“You ran here in the dark,” Jamie says. “You ran here in the dark with Flora. Wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t bad.”

Shouldn’t have done it at all. Should have called Jamie--run through the house in search of Hannah--done any number of things that wasn’t a flat sprint over unfamiliar ground into town. Should have kept her head. 

“Miles,” she says, and almost shatters right there. Her head is a land mine, pulsing warning. Her chest aches. Jamie is kneeling on the floor, she realizes, her hands busy at Flora’s face, her hands, searching for sign of damage. Dani inhales. “She’s--she’s okay. Rebecca made sure of it.”

Jamie looks up sharply. “What?”

Dani knows what she looks like, what she must sound like: a rumpled, ragged mess spouting dead women’s names like she has any right to them. Still, Jamie isn’t staring at her like she’s crazy. She’s watching with guarded eyes, her hands--satisfied that Flora is, physically, unharmed--moving to Dani. 

“What about Rebecca?”

“She let us go.” Jamie’s thumb is pressing very gently to her jaw, tilting her head to give the lamplight room to spill over her skin. She hears a breath catch, hears Jamie make a tiny, wounded sound at the sight of the skin rubbed red around Dani’s mouth. “She told me to take her and run.”

And I shouldn’t have. I’ve never listened to ghosts before. Why start now?

“Rebecca,” Jamie repeats. Her hand slips behind Dani’s head, gently inspecting; she finds the knot soon enough, Dani’s telltale gasp of pain pulling something taut behind her eyes. “Fuck, Dani, what--”

“Peter.” Flora’s voice is very small, a shock of unexpected color amidst Jamie’s usual palette. “Peter said we were helping.”

The calm in Jamie does not just break at those words; it erupts, her entire body revolutionized by her sudden rage. She’s got a temper, the old man had said, and Dani’s seen notes of it--at the rose bushes, hoisting a shotgun in the dark--but never quite like this. She stands abruptly straight, her shoulders pulling back, her expression livid. 

“What,” she says, “do you mean, helping?”

It spills out in a chaotic rush--Flora, mostly, explaining through hiccups. Dani supplements where she can, as if she understands any of it. As if she hasn’t, in some part of her throbbing brain, wondered all this time if the evening wasn’t a hallucination born of her concussion. 

“He hit you,” Jamie says. Not a question. “Tied you up. In the attic. And he took Miles.”

Those are, Dani thinks wearily, the bullet points. “He said they were trapped. That the house would wear them away. Rebecca wouldn’t...”

“'Course not,” Jamie says hotly. “’Course she wouldn’t. Fucking Quint.”

Dani blinks up at her. Her vision is gray around the edges, she realizes. Can’t be a good sign. She shivers. “You believe us?”

A little of the rage melts out of Jamie at this--her eyes softening just a bit, her fingers uncurling from a fist. She almost smiles. “You two? Best people I fuckin’ know, why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Because it’s crazy,” Dani says hollowly. “It’s crazy, but--” But that little boy had stood wrong, with Peter pulling his strings. That sweet, lovely little boy had gone hard around the mouth, had gone steely at the shoulders, had held himself like a man three times his age and thirty times more capable of cruelty. 

“I believe you,” Jamie says simply. She gives Dani’s shoulder a squeeze, Flora’s hair a gentle ruffle. “I believe you.”

The flat is quiet after that, for a while. Wrung out, Flora is dozing against the arm of the couch before she seems to know it. Jamie gestures for Dani to stand, the pair of them gently shifting Flora until she is resting comfortably on a throw pillow. She breathes like she’s still preparing a scream, like she is still ready to charge back into that house after her brother, even as Jamie drapes a blanket over her small frame. 

She leads Dani to the bathroom, then, sets her down on the toilet seat. Her hands are steady as ever, gentle as she administers a warm cloth to Dani’s scraped skin--cleaning around her mouth, around wrists that have been chafed nearly bloody--and a bundle of ice to the back of Dani’s head. Dani chases a handful of aspirin with cool water and tries to look as though the whole world isn’t swimming away from her. 

“It’s bad,” she says. “It’s so bad, Jamie. I couldn’t do anything.”

Jamie makes a soft sound of acknowledgment. Dani’s wrist is upturned in her hand, her fingers skimming lightly across rope burn. Dani barely feels it. 

“What if--” She doesn’t want to give it voice. Doesn’t want to admit it’s even possible. Isn’t there something to be said for the power of belief, unpredictability shaped by human faith? “What if he really is gone for good? How do I explain that? How do I live with that?”

Jamie raises her eyes. “Not gonna have to find out.”

Dani frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean.” She turns, drops the wet cloth in the sink, clicks the cap back onto the bottle of pills. “Didn’t let Quint get away with this shite in life. Don’t think for a fuckin’ moment I’d let him do it now.”

Dani shakes her head. “It’s too late--Rebecca said--”

“Love Rebecca.” Her voice is strangled when she says this, as though Jamie is speaking through the entire last year of grief at once. “Loved Rebecca, sister I never had. But she didn’t know everything. Christ, even just getting wound up with him--she makes mistakes, too.”

“But--”

“Dani.” Jamie takes her face between steady hands. Even just this easy proximity, the sweep of her breath not far from Dani’s own, settles something Dani thinks has been screaming most of her life. “I promise. Whatever we have to do--whatever it takes--we’ll fix this.”

“We’ll fix a ghost,” Dani says flatly. Jamie smiles, leaning in until her forehead knocks lightly against Dani’s own. 

“We’ll fix Miles. Kid’s been through too much already. I’ll be damned before I let Quint have him.”

It’s just as insane a thing to say as the rest of the night. Jamie doesn’t know--can’t know--how to make this right. Jamie is just one woman, though maybe the best person Dani’s ever been fortunate enough to find. Jamie can’t turn back time. 

Still. She almost forgets that, watching her make phone calls--to Owen, and to the house, where it rings and rings and Hannah never picks up. She almost forgets that Jamie is not a superhero, as she presses the ice pack to Dani’s head with one hand and says into the receiver, “Quint, yeah. Dunno how. Does it matter?”

She almost forgets that they are not superheroes when Owen knocks on the door. That they are only an au pair, a gardener, a cook, and a little girl. That they are no match for whatever the house has become over the years. She almost forgets. 

Because the set of Owen’s mouth is uncompromising for the first time since she’s met him. Because Flora, refreshed from her nap and no longer tilting toward tears, is grim in the seat beside him. Because, thigh warm against her own in the backseat, Jamie is holding her hand like it’s never crossed her mind to let go. 

They are not superheroes. They are not prepared for the ghosts of Bly Manor. They don’t know where Hannah is, how Rebecca is holding on, what Quint will do in Miles’ body. They don’t know anything at all. 

But they are going back. Because some stories need changing. Because some tragedies cannot be simply accepted. Because Peter Quint deserves to be put in his place, and Miles Wingrave deserves a life of freedom, and whatever’s gone wrong at the great, good place--their home--can be set right. Dani can feel that, way down beneath the headache and the fear. It can be, even if she doesn’t yet know how.

You, she thinks, looking from Owen at the wheel, Flora seatbelted carefully in, Jamie running a thumb over her knuckles. Me, she thinks, watching her own battered face in the rearview mirror. Us, she thinks, remembering the dinner table earlier that night, Hannah’s smile, the music of their mingled laughter. 

This can be fixed. Somehow. It must be.

“Right,” she says in a voice much stronger than she expects as they pull up the long drive. “Step one: find Miles.”

[hillnerd]

For the ship and word game: Harry/Ginny, snitch ♥️

Thanks for the prompt! Hinny as parents - James is twelve. :)

SNITCH

It was December and so it was a cold grey day. There was no other kind of day in Scotland in December.

Despite the rather miserable weather, Ginny was jubilant as she trudged through the snow towards the familiar Quidditch pitch, red sweater on under her thick winter coat.

James had sent a letter late in the night. It was barely legible, and mentioned something about Quidditch. The follow-up letter from Teddy helped clarify things. James was in the reserves for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and was getting to fly his first game thanks to a chaser getting a bad case of Fwooper Flu.

No one had ever come to her games at Hogwarts as her mother had never been comfortable Apparating and couldn’t spare the Floo powder, while their father was always busy at work. It wasn’t something she particularly resented, but looking back she would have liked them to see her and cheer her on for her games.

Harry was off on a mission, but Ginny could spare the time, and was happy to get a chance to see James playing his first ever game. It was strange being back at Hogwarts after so many years. She’d been back a few times for memorials back in the early 2000’s, but it had been over a decade since then, and much had changed. In some ways it was the same- the Quidditch pitch didn’t look all that different, but the pathways to it had changed, the seating, and she was having trouble finding the locker room.

“Ginny!” she heard a voice call, and saw Neville waving in the crowd. She enthusiastically waved and jogged over.

“Hey Nev!” She smiled and gave a hug.

“Here to see James?”

“Yes! Though, I’ve not clue where the locker rooms are! Where’d they move them to?”

“Ah! Those are on the South side now. The old ones had a lot of old spell damage and got torn out, oh, five year ago now?” he explained, leading the way to the locker room.

She could hear the sounds of teens excitedly gearing up for the game.

The team were mostly students Teddy and Victoire’s ages, if she had to guess by the look of them. James, by comparison, looked tiny and pale. He was bouncing both his legs as he sat at his bench, hands running through his hair. He was already with uniform and pads on, while the rest of the team were more languorous in getting their pads in place.

She’d been exactly the same her first match as a Harpie.

“Knock knock,” she said, fully entering the room. The teens quieted down seeing there was an adult in the room, while James shot to his feet.

“Mum!” James cried out with a smile, before carefully schooling it to a much cooler nonchalant look. “Erm, what are you doing here?”

“Came to see your first big game, of course,” she laughed.

“Oh wait- that’s Ginny Potter!” cried out an eastern asian girl. One of the tall teenage whipped around, a furious blush on his face, before shutting his locker that had an old poster of hers. She remembered the row she’d had with her mum over the poster and how she wasn’t ‘fully in her uniform’ for the shot. Another kid, Oliver Wood’s daughter she’d met a few times over the years, gave a quick wave.

“Yup,” she said with a winning smile. “Best of luck, to all of you. Go Gryffindor!”

She caught James’s eye and was surprised to find him looking rather cross. She gave a quick gesture with her head to the door and he joined her just outside.

“Excited for your match?”

“Well I was…”

Oh dear. She could feel the tween angst rolling off of him.

“Everything alright?”

“Why’d you have to come into the locker room? No one else’s parents did that.”

“You sure about that? Because I know for a fact Oliver Wood was there for the first few years of your Keeper’s games.”

James bit his lip, adjusting his rectangular glasses.

“You sure?”

“Oh yes. And he wore full regalia and painted his face, so you’re old mum isn’t too much of an embarrassment by comparison.” She had no idea if Oliver Wood had done this, but it was the first embarrassing thing she could imagine to make her look a bit less bad by comparison.

“It’s not that you’re embarrassing…” he said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground.

“Oh?”

“I just… I want them to be thinking about how I’m good on my own. Not because of you.”

Oh. She’d not considered that as being a thing, but completely understood the sentiment.

“Hey, I can leave if—”

“No… No, I want you here. I’m glad you came,” he said, before furtively looking around him then leaning in to hug her.

“You’re going to crush it, James,” she whispered in his ear. “Remember to really tuck in your heels and arms when you’re doing any hard sprints. And look farther down the field so you can get a big picture of the whole game and really slow things down. Oh, and ‘give to get’ on your tight turns so that—”

“I know, I know!” James said, putting a hand through his messy auburn hair. It wasn’t as messy as Harry’s, but she had a feeling he’d been running hands through it more than usual.

“Best of luck, darling,” she said with a kiss to his forehead.

He gave her one of his most confident smiles, flashing his straight teeth, and for a moment she could just picture what he’d be like when he was quite grown up, a thought that terrified her.

“See you after the game,” she said, giving his hair a ruffle as she went to find her seat.

She looked for Neville amongst the stands, but spotted a familiar head of dark hair beside him.

“Harry?” she called out. He turned and grinned at her, wearing a Gryffindor scarf and facepaint on his cheeks.

“Go Gryffindor,” he said with a grin.

She smiled back, loving that he’d somehow made it to the game. She also loved how mortified James would be later. She was the cool parent; today at least.

“Nice to see you in your old colors,” she said, taking a seat beside her husband. “Thought you had a mission today?”

“The great thing about being Head Auror is you can push those off on other people,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “Plus it’s his first game. I couldn’t miss it. It’s nice to have someone in the stands rooting for you when you’re taking on something daunting.”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yell super loud when James flies out. He’ll love it!”

James might act embarrassed, but she was sure he actually would love having his father there cheering him on.

When James flew out Harry gave a giant whoop, which made James show off with some loop-de-loops instead of going red faced like Albus would have.

The match was a good one, and James was keeping up very well with players years older than he. She glowed as he followed her advice to ‘give to get’- slowing down on turns so he could gain more smooth speed on the long runs.

He was a natural chaser and she couldn’t be more proud.

James was in a perfect tail slide transition with his Quaffle when a bludger was his his direction. Too intent on looking down the field, and with all the cheers, he missed her and Harry’s scream as their son took a Bludger to the back of his head and went tumbling from his broom.

There were a number of spells on the field to prevent a student from making impact with the ground (something they could have used back in her and Harry’s day). It did nothing to prevent the terror scraping at her insides seeing her little boy put on a stretcher with blood running down his temple, glasses smashed and laid on his chest. Harry’s jaw was set and he made an incongruous sight looking so grim while adorned in the bright face paint.

James was rushed to the hospital wing, and she and Harry stayed by his side the whole way there. All his cousins and Teddy came to visit, but they dispersed once they knew James would be alright, with the exception of Teddy who opted to stay.

James was healed and bandaged up by Hannah Longbottom. Despite knowing James was fully healed, they opted to stay until he woke up. Teddy nodded off in a nearby chair, his hair subconsciously turning the same color as James’s as he slept.

Ginny stood looking at James’s sleeping face until her vision blurred. She could picture him when he was just a tiny baby, his look of mischief on his face as he padded along the halls on pudgy legs, toddling after Teddy and Harry, wanting to be so grown up.

Harry took her hand and squeezed it.

“He’s alright, love.”

“I know,” she replied, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking of him as a baby, for some reason.”

Harry gave a dry laugh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Is it just me, or is being a parent a bit like having a time turner? In the blink of an eye you can see your twelve year old as a baby or when he first walked.”

“Especially when they’re asleep,” she said, stroking James’s lightly freckled cheek. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too. He flies just like you, you know,” said Harry before standing beside her.

“I was thinking some of those loop-de-loops looked like you at that age.”

“Naw, all his brilliance is from his Mum,” he said, leaning in to gently kiss her.

“Eurgh…” James gave a grunt, squinting at them. “What happened?”

“You got a bludger to the back of your head. Same injury your dad had in his sixth year.”

“Wicked…” said James, before his eye went wide. “Who won the game?”

“Gryffindor, even though they didn’t catch the Snitch. You Chasers were that good!” said Harry, sitting beside James.

Ginny could picture James’s first broom ride, with Harry excitedly following beside him so he wouldn’t slip off the tiny broom.

[bluesdesk]

ZELDA HEADCANONS

Sun:

-- considers "Zelda" and "Hylia" as 2 different identities. When she has to act as Hylia (to give a serious order, to do some magic...), she moves her fringe to her left side. Also when Sky makes her angry in a discussion she is like: "remember I can be Hylia!" and  not "remember I'm Hylia"

-- she wears shorts under her dresses, she would be pretty uncomfortable without them.

-- She has a very strong personality, like a girlboss, and she's as chaotic as Tetra

-- She's Hylia, and so she must handle magic pretty well. Also Sky didn't have problems, if not more frequent nightmares and lightning scars and fear of thunderstorms... But "fear of thunderstorms" doesn't even count! However, she noticed her hair became lighter near the tips, and wavier.

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

Dot:

-- the girly princess? No way! She grew up with Four, she's a smith too, she loves adventures and festivities. The fucsia jacket is a hoodie (she covers the hood with her cloack), she wears leggings and seakers nunder the dress, that's actually a high waisted long skirt she can remove

-- her hair is kinda orangey! Also it's pretty long

-- she's a relative of Four! In the italian version of Minish Cap she refers to Link's grandpa as "uncle Smith". This might mean Smith is her uncle, grand-uncle or greta-granduncle? Dot's mom might be Smith's younger sister for example.

-- She had a pretty simple life before MC and FS.  Dot had learnt some magic because of the whole "descendant of a goddess" thing. Not much, and she preferred to not use it. So, when she got petrified by Vaati's magic, she got the signs of it. Her hands and feet are as small as when she was 12 (MC), and her hair got way straighter than before. And when Vaati kidnapped her, she got some eye markings, like tattoos, on her arms.

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

Lullaby:

-- genderfluid! But their father doesn't really support them and when they feel like a boy they just become Sheik and go in the woods or at Lon Lon!

-- They have a tanned skin and dark blonde hair

--They do want to be a mom though. Dusk is their daughter!

-- They can handle magic well, but Lullaby turned into Sheik for the first time when they were really young, and this had an impact on them. Their blue eyes became red with the Sheik mask (yeah I headcanon it as a mask!), and the repetitive use of it made their eye color turn from blue to violet even when they're "Zelda". They also got a sheikah eye symbol on their left eye, which they cover with their hair.

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

Dusk:

-- She grew up with her grandpa (Lullaby's father)

-- She has Lullaby's skin color! Also she's thin and tall

-- She  didn't attend a royal/exclusive school but went at Twi's same one so they were friends as kids. She also studied swords and archery!

-- She simply didn't recognize Twi as a wolf, she thought he had become a spirit, because she didn't know he had the triforce too!

-- When Ganondorf turned her into his puppet, her skin became pale, and she had those black scars/signs and her eyes turned yellow. Her light power kinda healed this, but she now has light brown eyes, that turn blue when she's really happy and yellow when she's angry. Her skin color changed back to normal but her lips are always more violet than normal and she still has those black scars.

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

Artemis:

-- Dusk's great-great-granddaughter! She has a similiar face, but her colors are different. Also she has chubbier legs.

--When the war started, she took the master sword and trained with it, until Impa told her she had to leave it for the next hero

-- She's been training with magic for a long time, since she can really use it perfectly, and she masters different kinds of magic. Every scar/sign she got is from the enemies' weapons, and not magic

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

Flora:

-- She refused the whole princess/goddess thing, she just refers to herself as a scholar, researcher and adventure.

-- she loves Sheikah clothing!  She has stealth lessons with Paya

-- she tries to imitate Wild's cooking in secret, but she refuses to admit it because of the "powerful hero/ useless princess" thing

--She has also been training a lot with magic, and when she sealed herself and Calamity Ganon, her powers were awake. But being sealed for 100 years, with constant light powers on, and Calamity Ganon surely did something. The constant light made her photosensitive, and her hands are burnt, not as badly as Wild's face of course, but you can recognize they are. The usage of a newly awakened magic, for so long time and with that intensity made her unable to use magic for the next years after she came back, and if she'll ever get her magic back, it'll be only few.

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

Tetra:

-- She grew up knowing her name wad Tetra. She didn't know it was just a nickname, so for her "Zelda" is a nickname she doesn't even like. In the italian version of WW/PH, her name is Dazel. She prefers Dazel over Zelda when she has to do royal stuff.

-- even as Zelda her skin is dark and her hair is all curly

-- Wind's grandma loves her and already adopted her in her mind XD but she keeps telling her she needs warmer clothes and she also gives her lots of Wind's clothes that became too small for him

-- she has blonde freckles on her dark skin, Aryll says she's a starry night

-- chubby!!

-- She had never heard of magic before her first adventure, so you might imagine she must have taken it really badly. She has a messed up sleping schedule and she falls asleep in the strangest ways, positions, and times. One second she's arguing with you, the next moment she's asleep, even if she's on her feet, this thing can get dangerous for her so she always brings someone (mostly Wind) with her. She has scratches everywhere from her petrification too, and being petrified surely didn't help with her previous situation.

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

Fable:

-- she loves to wear pink and sky blue together! Pink is her favorite color and sky blue represents the goddess. She's a fan of jewels too!

-- Don't touch her hair, she'd get mad!

--Legend's step sister and somehow twin! She and Legend have different mothers and the same father (the father became a king after the marriage with Fable's mom, the queen). Oddly enough, they were born the same day of the same year.

-- She knows how to use a sword but she mostly uses magic and she can kick pretty well!

-- She can use magic almost perfectly, like Artemis! However, being in a painting gave her some lighter/"discolored" spots on her skin, pretty much like vitiligo. Just few spots, as she could handle that magic well too.

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

Aurora:

-- a child. She's like 10/12. A pretty smart kid!

-- redhead, tanned skin, curly hair and lots of freckles!

-- autistic, her stims are most likely jumping and moving her arms! She loves springs and water in general, she could spend her entire days with fairies in a spring! Pretty enthusiastic about literally anything too!

-- she sees Hyrule as an older brother

-- She had negative memories about her brother, and giving the adjective "brother" to Hyrule is  like turning the page, seeing that adjective with a new meaning

--The poor kid often thinks her dreams are reality. She has problems in distinguishing vivid dreams from reality as she had been asleep for too much. On the other hand, she barely sleeps.

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

BONUS:

Phantom/Angel (Spirit Tracks!):

As the great granddaughter of Tetra, Phantom and Link should be related (One of Spirit and one of Phantom's parents must be cousins) Unless Spirit isn't the great grandson of Tetra and Wind... but maybe the great grandson of Aryll instead! This would explain why Spirit is in contact with the pirate crew but not royal, and since their first common relative is so distant (Wind and Aryll's parents) they wouldn't be considered as related and the fact they didn't know each other before would have more sense

-- She took her personality from Tetra AND Wind: her will to help and be a hero too, still being a bit sassy, and a little rebel (escaping from the castle). She's like, a perfect mix of their personalities.

-- As for her design, she has wavy hair, a slightly tanned skin (she's not dark skinned, unlike Tetra), she loves earrings and she has a lot of them!

-- She wasn't used to magic, she knew that but not too much, so being a phantom and leaving her body because of said magic had an impact on her. Her eyes were originally dark blue like Tetra, but they're now pink to purple and yellow! Her skin got lighter after ST, and so she wears makeup to seem less pale. Her eyes get irritated easily (red eyes when possessed) and she spaces out a lot, sometimes she has dissociative events

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 3

summary: sometimes things just don’t go as planned... 

warning: smut (first time writing it, i hope it’s not shitty), cursing, fluff

w/c: 3,432

a/n: hey guys! my new trimester of nursing school just started completely which means that all the parts after this one won’t come as quickly. i’ll still be writing just not as fast. but anyway, happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~

The next day rolled around, both Y/n and Tom stayed home from work. They needed a much deserved distraction from everything they have discovered. Y/n woke up first to go to the backyard and do some morning yoga. She did that everyday but that morning she felt extra relaxed since she wasn’t going to work. The yoga session was longer too, taking more time to meditate and pray to the heavens (a/n: or the universe, in case you don't believe) for tranquility, happiness and love. Tom on the other hand, enjoyed sleeping in. He would sleep the whole day if he could. He’s the kind of person that would eat breakfast at 4 in the afternoon cause he had just woken up. When Y/n was in her last minutes of meditation, Tom walked outside in his grey sweatpants, shirtless, no underwear due to the eventful night from before. He stood there for a few, hands in his pockets, watching his wife take deep breaths. The wind blowing through her hair as she meditated the stress and anxiety away. 

“Morning, love.” he said breaking the silence which made her open her eyes and turn to him.

“Good morning, honey.” she said smiling as she uncrossed her legs and started standing up. Tom stayed there, getting a great view of her ass. She stood up and skipped to him, giving him a tight hug. Y/n took away her face from his neck and stared into his eyes which made him kiss her immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring every move and shape of each other's lips. They fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were meant to touch since the beginning of all eternity. 

“Let’s go get some coffee.” she whispered against his lips as they parted from the kiss a bit. Tom chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking inside towards the kitchen. After a few minutes, they sat down at the dining table, drinking their coffee, eating their fruits and eggs while Tom read the newspaper. Y/n sat there and admired him the whole time. The way his freckles shone with the sun, the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. 

“I forgot to tell you. We have to visit the docks later today..”

“What for exactly?” she said looking up from her plate. 

“When Harrison came to my office yesterday, we looked over all the buyers from this month. One of them has worked with Adam before. I’d like for both of us to check it out, maybe he’s intimidated by a woman.” he smiled and he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb against it. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. 

“Whoever‘s not intimidated by a female mob boss, is fucking insane.” Tom cackled making Y/n giggle and lean in to give him a small kiss. 

After breakfast, they started getting ready for their business outing. Y/n wanted to look intimidating so she went for the pant suit. Tom went for the suit of course but this one had a few golden details in the fabric. He was ready very quickly since his wife had to do her makeup and her hair. About 10 minutes later, she finally came downstairs. Wearing a black pantsuit with a red bralette underneath, red heels, a low bun with a few hairs framing her face and her purse and sunglasses in her hand. Tom was in complete awe, he always has been since the first time he met her. 

(flashback to the night they first met) 

Every important mob boss was there, mostly men, drinking and talking business. The only women there were the wives, mistresses and sexy waitresses. No one had really expected a woman to be boss. Everyone pictured them as accessories for men to “look pretty” or some sex toy. 

“So, Tom tell me. Don’t you have any arm candy?” a man asked him, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

“No. Not today.” Tom said, chuckling nervously as he scratched his eyebrow. 

“You know, you should find one soon. There’s nothing better than a celebration after these things.” another man smirked, grabbing the ass of the woman next to him and taking a sip from his champagne. Tom got bored of the conversation which made him look around at everyone. He was on the second floor looking down over the railing. That’s when every single jaw hit the floor when Y/n walked in. The only powerful female mob boss in the country. The room went silent as she strutted into the place. People started murmuring, not expecting her to show up since she had disappeared for some time prior. 

She was wearing a long red dress with a long slit on the side, her hair curled perfectly. Tom stared at her in awe, like time had stopped and he felt that his breath was taken away. Y/n looked up and caught him staring. They stared at each other for some time, feeling sparks as their eyes met. She looked away when a waitress tapped her shoulder to offer her a glass of champagne which of course she took. When she looked up again, Tom was gone. She frowned as she continued to look around, trying to find him. Suddenly, as she was standing in the middle of the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned and met with the same chocolate colored eyes that made her melt. 

“Hello.” he said smiling making her smile too. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m Tom.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. 

“Y/n.” she shook his hand as his face went serious for a bit. Not believing that this was the woman everyone feared. 

(end of flashback) 

She stood in front of him and smiled. 

“You ready?” he nodded and opened the front door for her to walk out. They finally made it to the car and started making their way towards the ports. 

“Can you give me a background check on who we’re gonna meet?” she asked, putting on her sunglasses. 

“His name is James Cavanaugh. This is the first time we ever make an exchange with him. That’s why I did the background check in the first place.” 

“And that’s when you saw he had worked with Adam before..” 

“Yep. For all we know Adam put him up to this so he could spy on us some more.” he said, running his hand through his hair and clenching his jaw in anger. 

“Well we’re not gonna let him do that.” Y/n said softly as she grabbed her husband’s hand. He looked at her and placed his other hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was quick, both of them sitting up straight again as the car tumbled into the port. The car came to a stop which caused Tom to open the door and quickly jogged around the car to help his wife out. He opened her door and she swung her legs out. Y/n stepped out and started walking towards the men standing on the dock, her heels clacking against the wooden surface. Tom was right behind her with his hand on her lower back. 

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” he said as they got closer to him. 

“Well, hello Tom. Good to see you.” Jame said, shaking Tom’s hand as he looked Y/n up and down. 

“And who may this beauty be?” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, thanks to her sunglasses, he didn’t see that. Tom was filled with rage at that moment. That’s his wife the guy is raging over. All he wanted to do at that moment was shoot James in the head.

“I’m Mrs. Holland.” she said with zero expression on her face. 

“Oh, the infamous Y/n. Well, it’s a privilege to finally meet you.” he said, smirking as he extended his hand, waiting for her to shake it. 

“I don’t shake hands, Mr. Cavanaugh.” she said and walked further down the dock. 

“Alright, well… let’s talk business.” he said, turning around as Tom made his way to his wife. 

“That is what we came for, didn’t we?” she said crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yes, we did-“ 

“Then let’s get to it, James. We don’t have all day.” Tom said, interrupting him as he fiddled with his wrist watch. 

“Okay, well… let’s talk about the trade. Your best partners in exchange for my incoming shipments.” he said squinting his eyes due to the sun with his hands in his pockets. 

“What shipment?” Y/n asked, taking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Some exclusive guns from Canada. Some drugs too.” he said looking at the couple with nerves. They stayed quiet, Tom drawing patterns on Y/n’s lower back signaling her to start asking questions to see if he mentioned Adam. 

“Have you done this with anyone else?” Y/n asked seriously making Jame look at her and then at Tom. 

“Yeah. A couple times actually.” 

“With who?” Tom asked, gaining a questionable look from him. 

“Why is that so impor-“

“Because we only work with people we trust and if you mention someone we have worked with, that means we can trust you too.” she said a bit harshly interrupting him in the middle of his question. 

“What she said.” Tom smiled, tilting his head towards his wife and taking off his sunglasses and turning around to look at the ocean behind him. Y/n knew that made James think, she knew he was going to mention Adam. ‘Jackpot’ she thought, smiling internally. 

“I’ve worked with Adam Matthews… multiple times..” he said fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You hear that, honey? He’s worked with Adam.” Y/n said turning to Tom which made him turn and walk to her. 

“Oh well, that’s nice.” he said as he stood next to his wife with his hand on her lower back. 

“Do we have a deal or not?” James asked, feeling uneasy. He was desperate to know. 

“Well, James we do have to think about it. We can’t just jump into these things. You know this, being a businessman yourself.” she smiled devilishly and looked at her husband, who was smiling too. 

“We’ll get back to you, James. Very soon.” and with that, Tom grabbed Y/n’s hand and started walking towards the car. Leaving James alone on the dock, thinking about what just happened. The first thing he wanted to do was call Adam, to tell him that his plan wasn’t working. What he didn’t know was that the Holland’s driver put a tracker on his car. His secret location wasn’t going to be a secret anymore. 

The Holland’s made it home with bright smiles on their faces. Their plan was in motion, everything was going smoothly. Plus, they had the whole day to themselves. 

“That went well.” Y/n said putting down her purse on the kitchen counter as Tom took off his suit jacket. 

“Did you see how nervous he was?” he laughed as he rolled up his sleeves watching his wife step down from her heels.

“Yeah. I swear, I saw him sweating.” she chuckled and turned to her husband who was staring at her with a smirk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said putting a hair behind her ear. 

“Your intimidating side is really sexy… and hot.” Tom whispered as he walked to her grabbing her waist and burying his face in her neck. His lips were soft against it. He bit and sucked on the sensitive skin to mark her, making her moan a bit. 

“You only find me sexy and hot when I'm intimidating?” he quickly took his face out of her neck and looked at her. 

“I didn’t say that. You’re always sexy and hot and beautiful. Just… today you were extra sexy.. and hot… and beautiful.” he smiled and kissed her lips slowly, teasing her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, making him move his to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss got intense immediately, both hungry for each other’s touch. Tom grazed his tongue on her bottom lip making her grant access. Their tongues battled for domination as Tom unbutton her suit jacket, revealing her thin bralette. Her nipples hard with excitement, poking through the lace fabric. Tom moved his hand upward, very slowly until his thumb graced her sensitive breast making her jump at the sudden contact. She parted from him to breath as she placed her forehead against his. 

“We should go to our bedroom.” Y/n whispered, making him smile. Tom then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to go upstairs. Once inside, Tom pushed Y/n against the door placing his lips on her again. Her hands went to his hair pulling it slightly as his hands went to her back to unhook her bralette. 

Y/n bit Tom’s lip sensually making him groan in pleasure. She then moved her hands to his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress making him fall flat on his back. He moved one of his arms under his head to get a better view of his wife who was starting to take off her clothes. She unbuttoned her pants, letting them fall to the floor which left her in her underwear. Y/n moved her hand to her back and unhooked her bralette, letting it slide off her arms. Tom was drooling at this point, he couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and perfect was with him. She slowly moved her hands down her torso and played with the hemline of her lace thong. He quickly sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to straddle his lap. 

“I wanna take it off, darling.” he muttered against her lips while playing with the g string on her lower back. Y/n placed her hands on his jaw, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His hand roamed all over her back, ass and hips. Feeling every bump and line of her skin. She started moving her hips against him, making his member grow in size quickly. A moan got caught up in her throat as Tom’s hard member rubbed against her bundle of nerves. He quickly turned, getting Y/n under him to start grinding harder on her making her whimper in desperation. 

“Don’t tease anymore, please. I want you.” she moaned against his lips making him groan and stand up. Tom quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. He looked up and saw his wife biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together to create some kind of friction. That almost made him cum right then and there. Y/n sat back up as Tom leaned down which made her grab his face to pull him into a kiss. Her legs immediately opened making him fall between them perfectly. Her nails scratched his back muscles yearning for him to be inside her. His lips moved to her neck, down to her breast onto her stomach.

“Baby, I don't want foreplay.” she whimpered making him look up at her and smirk.

“No foreplay?” 

“No, I need you… please.”  she said against his lips as he climbed on top of her once again. Tom grabbed his member and aligned it with her entranced. She was soaking wet which helped him slide in easily. Y/n gasped as he stretched her out the deeper he went. He halted his movements letting her get used to the size. Of course, this isn't their first time but every time was just as overwhelming. 

“You okay?” he whispered against her lips making her nod and give him a peck. Tom moved his hips back and moved them forward again making Y/n moan. One of her hands stayed on his hair and the other went down to his ass to give him a squeeze, making him go faster. His pace became faster as he sucked her right nipple making her moan into his ear. 

“Oh my- fuck, Tom.” the room was filled with moans and praises as his pace continued to go faster. He groaned into her neck as she clenched around him making his dick twitch inside. Y/n started to move her hips trying to meet his thrusts. Her back arched as his member hit her g-spot repeatedly. 

“Fuck, darling. You feel- fuck- so good.” he groaned as she gave him pornographic moans which made him go faster. Slapping sounds filled the room as Y/n clenched around him. He suddenly pulled away making her open her eyes quickly, giving him a questionable look. 

“I want you on top of me.” he whispered, making her bite her lip as he moved to sit against the headboard. She straddled his waist and licked her hand, gaining a confused look from her husband. Y/n grabbed Tom’s hard member and started moving her hand up and down slowly, running her thumb over the tip. 

“Fuck.” he groaned placing his hands on her hips, watching his wife’s move a bit faster. After a few more hand movements, Y/n moved forward and lowered herself onto the hard member. She went slowly, feeling him stretch her a lot more from this position. Her head fell back with a moan as Tom attacked her neck and chest. She moved her hips inna circling motion, then started to lift them up and down. He moved his hands to her ass, helping her with the pace. 

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good, so tight.” he said against her breast as he licked and bit her sensitive nipple. She placed her hands on his chest for leverage to bounce faster, making her tits move up and down. Tom looked up at her in awe, pieces of hair falling from her bun, her face expressing an intense feeling of pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned his name over and over. He was so whipped for her. Her entrance got tighter as she got closer to her climax. 

“Baby… I’m close.” she whimpered into his neck getting lost in the feeling. 

“Come around me, darling. Fuck- please, I wanna feel ya.” he muttered into her shoulder after biting it. He then moved to grab her ass and thrust fast into her making her scream. 

“Oh fuck!” she moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than before. Her moans got louder as his movements got faster until they both reached their climax. Y/n fell on top of Tom, both of them completely out of breath. She slowly rolled off of him and closed her eyes. They stayed there for a bit, regaining their breaths. Y/n then sat up and wobbled to the bathroom making Tom giggle.

“Shut up, Holland!” she shouted from the toilet making him laugh more. She walked out and got into bed with him, laying her head on his chest while their legs tangled up together. 

“I love you.” he muttered with his lip on her hairline as she drew patterns on his chest. 

“I love you too.” she said looking up at him, then moving to peck him on the lips. 

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we have to check the tracker.” Tom said, playing with her hands.

“I know… but can we stay like this longer? We can check it later, my computer is right there.” she said softly pointing at her dresser. 

“Alright then.” he mumbled and pulled her closed feeling each other's skin. They stayed that way for a few hours. Talking about random things about their childhood, the places they wanna travel to and just things they love about each other. The couple was in the middle of a conversation when Tom’s phone started ringing. It was Harrison. He then took his arms off of Y/n and stretched to the side to grab the phone. 

“Hey, mate.”

“Tom, where are you?” 

“I’m at home, why?” he asked, smiling looking at his wife who was staring at him with heart eyes. 

“Get your ass to Le Royale, right now!” 

“Why? what’s going on?” 

“James Cavanaugh is dead.” 

“What?!” Tom shouted, making Y/n sit up. 

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed 

‘James.’ he mouthed back leaving her confused as he listened to Harrison rant. 

“They found him in Adam’s office this morning.”

“Where’s Adam?”

“Nobody knows. We have to be really careful, Tom. No one is safe right now.”

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