#Transform your kitchen from the one you have gotten used to into the one you have always wanted. At Stenco Construction

[uzurakis]

hi kiara! can you please make a continuation of “their act of intimacy” but with gojo, toji, and sukuna? i melted the first time i read them with the other characters 😭 hope you have a good day ahead of you ❤️

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY?

featuring: gojo satoru. ryomen sukuna. toji fushiguro.

n. aaa thanku for liking the previous one! this is for you nonnie <3 didn’t really proofread cause i’m running late on sleep lol. PART ONE HERE :0

GOJO SATORU. gojo finds it calming when you both take a shower together. however, his notion of "calming" may differ from the ordinary. instead of drowsing in warm water and doing all those private things such as soaping his back and shampooing his hair, you and him sometimes have other spontaneous ideas in mind.

as the warm water cascaded down, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness that's as comforting as it is exhilarating. satoru, with his irrepressible charm and mischievous grin, stood beside you, his presence filled the space with a playful energy.

"ah, feels like heaven," he sighed, whilst eyes gleaming with shenanigans. you chuckled, reaching for the shampoo. “don’t start a water fight again, satoru. let us enjoy a nice and relaxing—“

but before you could react, a splash of water hit you square in the face, causing you to sputter and laugh. “gotcha!" the man exclaimed, his laughter echoed through the tiled walls.

"it’s sooo on now!" you declared, retaliating with a splash of your own.

and just like that, the bathroom transformed into a battleground, with water flying in every direction as you both engaged in your playful antics. amidst the laughter and the splashing, there's an undeniable sense of joy that filled the room.

"careful, satoru," you warned, dodging his playful advances, "you're going to get soap in your eyes."

but he just grinned. "not before you get ‘em first, babe.”

and so, you guys continued your playful banter. soaked to the bone and grinning from ear to ear, gojo satoru defines his own calming moments with you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA. your boyfriend is a big guy, or so he believes before you swoop in and baby him. does he resist? yes. but will he eventually agree? absolutely.

the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filled the air as you stood in the kitchen. across the room, your boyfriend, sukuna, leaned against the counter, watching you with a bemused expression. you took a small portion with a spoon in hand, "say 'a' for me, sukuna.”

"hell nah.” his face was holding back the disgust. “you know, i can feed myself, right?"

"come on, baby, just one bite," you urged, eyes pleading. he hesitated for a moment, then sighed, giving in to you. “no—tsk, fine.”

“just this once.”

as he reluctantly opened his mouth, you couldn't help but suppress a giggle at the sight of him being spoon-fed like a child. your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly swallowed the pasta, avoiding your gaze.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you teased, unable to contain your amusement.

he grumbled something unintelligible in response, but as you proceeded to feed him, he took every piece and never turned it down until the last bite.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never declines your offer to groom him. he rarely takes attention to his appearance, whereas you insist on cleaning up him up and do it with your own hands. at first, he doesn't think of it as intimate thing because isn’t it just about cutting and shaving? but as time goes on, he understands how much you value him and treasures the time you spent solely on him.

the soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue over the cozy living room. toji sat on the couch, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes. you watched him from afar with a fond smile tugging at your lips.

“toji,” you called out. “your hair has gotten longer than the last time i remember.” he chuckled softly, already accustomed to this routine. "is it that time again?"

with scissors and a comb in hand, you approached him with a smile. “c’mere, sit down, baby.”

letting a shrug plus a grin, the man complied, settling onto the stool you'd placed in the middle of the room. as you draped a towel around his shoulders, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

"you know, i understand why you enjoy doing this so much.” he admitted, leaning back as you began to comb through his hair.

"you know why?” you replied, your voice soft as you worked. "it's about taking care of each other, babe. showing love in the little things."

he fell silent at your words, mulling them over as you continued to trim away stray strands. gradually, the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of ease and contentment.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[sophiaseo34]

Kitchen Remodel Contractor & Expert

[alwaysurvalentine]

scary movie marathon - st fic

Written for Day 27 of @steddie-spooktober prompt: scary movies - wc: 1.6k - cw: some cussing

enjoy! 💛

Steve’s idea of a great date night? Scary movie marathon. If you pick the right movies, your date will hide their face in your shoulder and you have an excuse to hold onto them for the duration. If you’re lucky, you might even get them in your lap where you can provide some distraction.

At least, this is how things typically worked when Steve went on dates with the girls of Hawkins High. He should’ve expected that, like most things with Eddie, that wouldn’t be the case with the other boy. When he’d first suggested the movie night, Eddie had assumed it was a group thing and started talking to Robin about what movies she was going to bring. Luckily, Robin can read Steve’s mind, and also his rapid signaling behind Eddie, so she made up an excuse on why she was busy that night. Eddie had shrugged and turned to Steve with a smirk that sent butterflies straight to Steve’s stomach. 

~

The night had come faster than Steve expected and he eyed the movies in his front seat warily when he pulled up to Eddie’s trailer. He knew the other boy would probably like anything they watched, a huge fan of any and all horror no matter how bad. But Eddie also had a habit about seeing Steve more than other people. What if he realized something about him that Steve didn’t mean to reveal? What if he thought the movies he chose were dumb? Or too mainstream to be considered bad enough to loop back to good? This was a terrible idea. Steve’s hand rested on his gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and call Eddie with a fake illness cover story when the boy in question stepped out of the trailer and waved. 

Steve had just gotten used to the black jeans and leather jacket Eddie normally wore, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the cropped Black Sabbath shirt displaying the underneath of Eddie’s chest all the way to his navel. The sunset painted the scars adorning his stomach into a soft pink, like a gentle swoop of a paint brush. Steve’s own matching scars never looked so soft, instead red and angry any time he caught a glance of them in the mirror. Eddie’s grin sharpened as he approached Steve’s car, brown eyes alight with something when he cracked open Steve’s door.

“Cat got your tongue there, Stevie?” 

If blinks were audible, Steve knows his would’ve been deafening. “Whatever Eddie, hope you’re ready to be scared.” He didn’t dare to look at Eddie when he grabbed the movies, scared the older boy would know what he was thinking. 

“Ha! Me, scared? I’m a connoisseur of horror, a weaver of terrible tales, it takes a lot to scare the likes of me!” A cartoonish evil laugh erupted from Eddie as he walked forward, sliding his slippers off at the front door. The trailer felt just as welcoming as it had done all the times before, but now there were orange string lights covering the wall behind the TV and it smelled distinctly of popcorn.

In seemed in the time it had taken Steve to go home and change, Eddie had set up a full array of snacks for them. Popcorn in one bowl, M&Ms in another, even a bag of red vines sat to the side. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink. We have coke and beer.” Eddie cringes at his words, though Steve can’t imagine why, and he’s already heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll just have what you’re having.” The fridge door opens and Steve sets his movies on the table, eyes catching on the starting menu for The Fly. Eddie comes back with two opened beers, passing Steve’s over by the neck before taking a quick swig of his own. 

“Okay, so we’re starting with one of the best horror movies ever.” 

~

“What the fuck?! Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve can’t look at the screen anymore, the transformation from man to fly sending his stomach into a riot. He’s tucked his face behind his hands and leaned towards Eddie like that’ll save him from the screen. Which is when he notices Eddie’s got an arm around his shoulders and he can feel him laughing against him. How did he not realize Eddie using his own moves against him?

“I know. It’s fucked up isn’t it? And the special effects are so good!” Eddie almost sounds excited, which would be nice if Steve couldn’t hear the sound of Jeff Goldblum’s character losing the last of his humanity. He gags and covers his ears instead, leaning fully into Eddie and turning his head towards the cologne he can smell on Eddie’s neck instead of the screen. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is.” Steve’s breath ghosts over Eddie’s collarbone and he swears he can see the moment Eddie’s heart starts beating faster. Interesting. He’s hopeful so Steve leans closer and feels Eddie’s arm tighten incrementally around him. 

“Steve?” He nods against the metalhead’s neck, newly focused on figuring out just what the older boy smells like under the cigarette smoke that follows him around. “Can I say something crazy?” Eddie’s tense as he talks, arm slipping from Steve’s shoulders so he can reach for the remote. “I mean, maybe it’s not crazy compared to you know, the entire Upside Down and like the last four years of your life. But it’s a big deal to me. Robin said you were fine with her, and clearly you are because she’s like your whole soulmate. Platonic, I know.” 

All of the air is stuck in Steve’s lungs, making his chest tight and he’s just waiting for the pit in his stomach to swallow him whole. He’s opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing is coming out – Eddie’s drowning in a sea of insecurities and he’s doing nothing to help. 

“Okay. I’m just going to spit it out. I’m gay and I have the biggest crush on you.” 

I have the biggest crush on you.

Steve can breathe again. His cheeks are hot and he knows if he looked in a mirror they’d be bright pink. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s quiet enough in the trailer that Steve can hear when Eddie chokes on his inhale. 

“..what?” Eddie’s shoulders aren’t tense anymore, and he tilts his head at Steve with furrowed brows. He almost looks like a puppy. 

“Sorry, yeah, totally cool with the gay thing. Even more on board with the crush thing, so can I kiss you?” 

Eddie’s still just looking at Steve with wide, brown eyes. 

Alright, that’s fine, Steve can close the distance. Steve leans forward slowly and brushes the curls away from Eddie’s face, watches his eyes go wide with wonder before leaning in. Their noses bump when their lips first meet but then Eddie tilts his head and Steve’s world with it. Eddie’s hands come up to cup Steve’s jaw, cold rings sending sparks along his face and Steve smiles into the kiss. They part for a moment, matching grins on their faces. After a beat, Eddie leans in again and Steve shifts closer on the couch. 

As soon as he starts shifting, Eddie’s hands start tugging him closer until Steve’s straddling the older boy’s black jean clad lap. Steve boxes him in easily, resting slightly on Eddie’s lap to change the angle again. Eddie nips at his lip, gaining full access to his mouth when Steve gasps at the sensation. The sounds of the movie have completely faded now, Steve more focused on the soft smacking of their lips when they disconnect and meet again. 

The need for air causes them to part, but Eddie doesn’t go far, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. If it wasn’t for how warm Steve was already feeling, he might’ve been able to feel the warmth from the blush on Eddie’s face. Instead he feels Eddie’s lips against his skin as the metalhead murmurs. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Am I dreaming right now?”

“Not a dream, baby. If it wasn’t obvious, I have a huge crush on you too.”

Eddie leans more into Steve’s neck, placing a kiss at his pulse point. A couple more kisses are placed on Steve’s neck and he feels himself melt into Eddie’s lap. He feels Eddie’s hands clench slightly at the movement and then they slip under his shirt, fingertips pressing gently at Steve’s lower back and hips. A gasp escapes him when Eddie nibbles at his neck, teeth pulling at the skin in a way that Steve knows will leave a mark. 

For a moment he imagines the older boy leaving different marks on him and lending him his signature leather jacket for everyone knows who Steve belongs to. But Steve’s getting ahead of himself, this is only their first kiss. There’s no guarantee that Eddie wants this to be a serious thing. 

“Sweetheart?” When Steve glances down, Eddie’s pupils are still blown slightly even though his eyebrows are scrunched in confusion. “Did you hear me?” He must see his answer in Steve’s eyes because the confusion leaves and Steve’s looking at the softest expression he thinks he’s ever seen. 

“I asked if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” There’s an edge to Eddie’s voice and his hands tighten for a moment before loosening again. As though he’s worried about Steve’s answer, like Steve’s not already on the precipice of falling in love with he boy in front of him.

“Only if you let me take you on an official date.” All of the tension leaves Eddie and he grins, leaning up towards Steve again.

“I think I can agree with that.” 

And what else is Steve supposed to do but lean in for another kiss?

[leth-writes]

yandere Tim Drake x meta reader part two

summary: we find out more about what life is like now for the reader.

Warnings: The usual for my blog!

Tim had luminous green eyes. They were the most sickly green, almost glowing, you’d ever seen, pale and round and sunken into his skin like you could see the skull beneath his skin. It was like he was secretly a corspe walking around, without a soul. Sometimes you did think he didn’t have a soul.

Tim had basically changed your life completely in the span of a week. He was still the only one in the general population who could really see you, but he introduced you to his family, the Waynes, who were all able to see you as well, though none as clearly as Tim could. It was like there was something in the water that transformed their reasoning and observational abilities; you couldn’t even sneak down to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat without Alfred, the tall, lean family butler, greeting you. Though, most didn’t look you in the eyes. You thought it was because they had noticed how uncomfortable you got at direct eye contact, though Tim continued to stare into your eyes like he was trying to yank your soul out through your face. It was stressful, but you didn’t have any choice; you owed him. He’d got his dad to practically adopt you, letting you stay in the manor and giving you a whole host of things you hadn’t seen since you were a child, including the softest blanket you’d ever felt, and Bruce had gotten you a private tutor named Jonn, who was also able to see you. Jonn’s presence was a soothing balm on your frayed nerves, though you were loathe to admit that Tim was the cause of your anxiety. There was just something about him, afterall.

You had a new family, and things you could leave in your room without worrying they’d get stolen, and cute clothes, and a tutor… it was a better life than you’d ever had before. Yet, you felt guilty. Weren’t you taking too much? So, you approached Jonn one day, asking him to create a bracelet that would limit your abilities and let you be seen. It was the only way to be able to get a normal life and pay back your generous benefactors, though they insisted they didn’t need the gesture of kindness.

Jonn had complied; afterall, it wasn’t too hard to create one off of pre-existing schematics that were commonly used for cases similar to yours. He had gifted it to you in front of the entire family, who clapped and congratulated you. All except Tim, who leant in the corner with his arms crossed, looking out the window with those distant green eyes.

It had only been a week since you got the bracelet when it first went missing. You searched everywhere, high and low, including getting the others in on the search, to no avail. You had only the family bedrooms left to search, though you’d have to be quick. In and out, quick as you could manage, you searched Jason, Dick, and Damian’s rooms. Then you crossed over and searched Bruce and Cass’s rooms. Finally, you knocked on Tim’s door. It was just a formality at this point, you couldn’t imagine him misplacing it. Faced with no response, you opened the door. And spotted the box.

You’d never seen this box before. It was plain, nondescript. A faded grey, it looked slightly aged and well-loved. Pulling off the lid, you found photos. dozens and dozens of photos. Most were of you, though a few were of Tim’s other family members. Dick, Jason, even Bruce all made appearances, clearly going back years before you’d ever met. Hell, some seemed to be from before Jason had even joined the family, and well before Tim had met the Waynes or lost his parents. How did he get these? There were pictures of you sleeping, walking, breaking into buildings and the school library, even changing… most were from before you’d ever met Tim. Underneath it all was your bracelet, pulled apart into small wires and bits.

“Oh, you’ve found the box,” Bruce’s voice rang out from behind you. You whirled around, watching as he shut and locked Tim’s door, staring at you with a clear, blank expression you’d never seen on his normally joyful face. “It’s Tim’s?” You replied, voice trembling.

He sighed, leaning against the door and crossing his arms. “Yes, it belongs to Tim. I know it seems creepy, but you have to understand… Tim isn’t like us. He doesn’t experience emotion in the same way we do, he never learned the normal boundaries of relationships, growing up the way he did. He uses his camera as a way to capture us, to keep us with him, it’s his way of keeping us safe when he can’t act.”

“They’re from before he met me.” You said, voice hard and cold.

“Yes. Tim tends to stake out anyone he finds particularly interesting. That’s why most of the photos are so old. Think of it as his way of doing research. He feels the need to build our family by snatching up people he thinks of as his, moving around the pieces of our lives until we can be safetly integrated. It’s not so bad, you get used to it.” He continued.

“My parents…” You began, almost too afraid to ask.

“Yes. He planted the idea of a surprise move, a new start. They were being haunted by the ghost of a child they’d never known, and Tim needed a way to get you into position. He’s got a very strategic mind.” Bruce supplied, once again adopting that soft smile you’d grown used to. “Don’t worry, he only does it because he cares. You should see what he does to his enemies…”.

Tim Drake saw you in a way no one else had before.

[saekkas]

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒

summary: romantically cliche things the boys do when they're in love with you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this might just be the most lovey-dovey thing i've ever written in my life.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍: goes out of his comfort zone, does anything he can so that you're always smiling when with him, makes butterflies erupt every single time he opens his mouth.

kaiser, sae, isagi, karasu

"can't you let me see? we've been doing this for hours!"

his hands are around your face, shielding your vision. you can see nothing but darkness, only small spots of light from the gaps of his fingers. he's been nothing but romantic for the whole day, eager to celebrate your anniversary on a day off. he's taken you to a popular italian place, which he's booked under your name from two months ago, and brought you to a science and art museum that's produced more than a hundred lock screen worthy photos.

all the while keeping his hands around your eyes every time you move onto a new spot. he's determined to make this the best day of your life, and with the way it's going, he's gotten his wish.

"calm down, we're almost there." his voice is right by your ear, tone completely warm as he chuckles at the shiver it brings. "since when were you the impatient one in the relationship?"

"can you blame me? how am i supposed to know you aren't leading me into a trench in the middle of nowhere?" there's only silence, and you can only assume he's grown tired of your whining. "it's a perfectly plausible scenario and you know that. what if-"

"we're here," he says, this time whispering lowly as he stops your movements, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i hope you like it. it's my last present for today."

you blink your eyes when he finally takes away his hand, trying to get used to the onslaught of brightness. you gasp, realizing belatedly that he's taken you to the canopy of your joined apartment. he's taken two chairs from your kitchen, along with a high desk from your work room, and transformed the space into a private space for two.

"this is beautiful. i can't believe you did this for me."

his hands are warm as they trail down your waist, wrapping you snugly against his chest. you can feel the soft breath coming from his mouth, and the telltale signs of a five o'clock shadow as he nuzzles into your neck. "do you like it?"

"i love it. i love you." you stand in silence for a while, taking the time to take everything in. you snap out of your trance like state when he takes your hand, pulling you towards the seats. "thank you. you've completely made my present for you look like trash."

there's a shadow of a smile on his face, bright even under the darkness of the ink blue sky. you'd print it if you could. you'd freeze this moment, this day, so you'll get to experience it forever, in a never-ending loop, if you could.

"two tickets to meet my favorite team is far from trash, but i'll accept the compliment."

that shadow of a smile turns into a grin, and you realize you never want to experience a day without his smile for the rest of your life if you could.

the lights from nearby buildings look and feel as if fireflies, surrounding you in a peaceful hue. his eyes are a different shade today, far brighter than they usually are. his embrace far warmer.

you suppose love does that to the best of people. and you suppose you're lucky to be able to get to experience it with him.

"i have something for you."

you quirk an eyebrow as he leans down to reach for something under his seat. it's rectangular, medium-sized, nothing special looking, and yet your heart's beating against your ribcage, threatening to let loose and engulf him whole.

"i thought this whole set up was supposed to be the last?"

"i lied," he chuckles, handing the object to you with soft eyes. "open it."

the wrapping is shabby at best, and you bite your lip, both endeared and amused by his actions. you tear it gently, gasping when the cover of your favorite book looks back at you. "i..."

the cover feels smooth under your fingers, and you can only choke back a sob when you flip onto the first page, finding his scribbled writing right under the author's autograph. the next pages are similar in different ways, filled with little notes and highlighted words at the edges. his thoughts immortalized for you to read.

"you annotated a book for me?" you sniffle, wiping away the tears before they fall onto the pages. "and got the author to sign it?"

"why are you crying?" he asks out of pure sweetness, nothing but love looking back at you from his eyes. "isn't that what a guy does when he's in love with a girl?"

you only nod, still at a loss of words as he leans down another time, this time placing a cool box on the desk. "gelato?" he asks with a laugh as he places two of your favorite flavored dessert in between you. "can't have my love crying on our special day, can we?"

you learn that the gelato isn't the last surprise either. his last present comes in the form of a ring and a promise made under the night sky.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: holds every single one of your things, will not let you move a single finger, proudly shows you off as his.

aiku, nagi, kunigami

"i have two hands too, you know?" you laugh, your shoulders shaking as you lean against the apartment door's entrance. "i can bring my own things."

you watch with thinly veiled amusement as he shakes his head with a stubborn frown. his footsteps are heavy, the added weight of all your shopping bags dragging him down slightly. you move slightly to the left, pushing the door open wider so he could enter.

"i'll get you something to drink. hold on," you say with a pointed look before making your way to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. walking back, you giggle at the sight of him peeking into the paper bags. "here."

the palm of his hands are slightly calloused against the skin of your thighs as he all but drags you onto his lap. the couch sinks under your joined form and you raise an eyebrow when he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

"what?" you ask, slightly suspicious of the pout on his face after the few seconds of silence. "you want something don't you?"

"show me?" his tone is dripping in honey and his hands rub circles on your back as he tries to persuade you. "wanna see my girl all dolled up and pretty."

you sigh at his request, your heart weak at his show of affection. "fine. you better pay attention though."

he hums, nodding his head excitedly as you take the bags and bring them into the bedroom with you, ready for a fashion show.

"i'm not wearing every single one so i'll show you my favorites." the dress you have on is innocent, fun. one you've picked exactly for picnic dates and ice cream runs. it's a baby blue color, white lace trimming your waist with a bow to match. "what do you think?"

his eyes roam from your head down to your feet, and you blink at the silence that coats his answer. "do you not like it?"

he blinks back, as if breaking out of a gaze before he stands, leaning down to press three pecks onto your lips. you watch as he walks back to the couch, tilting your head at the coy smirk on his face. you feel dumbfounded when he waves a hand, motioning for you to try the next one.

the second outfit is far simpler. white top matched with a leather jacket and boots. there's no other sound besides the fan by the edge of the kitchen and his footsteps as he leans in to press another kiss. only two this time.

you snort when you realize when he's doing. if there's anything your boyfriend will do, it's charm you with whatever weird stunt he has up his sleeve. "you are impossible. what is this? your version of america's top model?"

"i don't hear you complaining." he walks back to his seat, watching you with lidded eyes and a small smirk filling his expression. "next one?"

you snort, changing into the last outfit for him to see. this one's far more intimate as you've bought it for special occasions. the dress is a dark maroon, it sinks down to the floor with a plunging neckline that is a wonder to the eyes. you watch as he stiffens, becking you forward with a come-hither motion on his finger.

you sway your hips as you walk, looking at him with a coy smile that he most certainly loves. before you have the chance to lean down, he shoots up, pressing three kisses on your lips, and another on your exposed chest.

his hands wrap around your waist, tilting your chin so that you meet his eyes. "next one."

"that was the last one." you quirk an eyebrow, squinting when he grins. "what?"

"try my clothes. i'll give you full scores for every outfit."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒: gets you anything and everything that reminds him of you, reminds you of your worth every day, charming to the point that your mother wants you to marry him asap.

rin, yukimiya, bachira, reo

"hey, i know you're a big-time pro-athlete now but that doesn't mean you need to spend all your money on me."

your boyfriend has a thing for splurging. he buys things that are almost always useless and insists on gifting them to you with a big shiny bow wrapped around it. he isn't much of a spender for himself, insists on wearing his clothes until they're somehow falling off his body but with you? his pockets are loose, wallet seemingly always filled with credit cards.

an investment for the future, he calls it.

you don't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of his words or cry because this handsomely talented individual actually sees you as part of his future. he's calling you as his future. talk about sweeping a girl off her feet.

"they're pretty. i thought you'd want to see them."

the bouquet that he sent is nothing if not pretty. it's a stunning piece of work, an arrangement of many different kinds of vividly colored flowers wrapped into a huge bundle. it's hefty in your hand and you'd be lying of you said that it isn't a treat for the eyes.

"you could have taken a picture and showed it to me through text, eh?" you walk forward, smelling the flowers in your hand, and carefully place them on the desk to put in a vase later. "you didn't need to ship it all the way from paris."

you watch as the pixelated version boyfriend shrugs, a sweet smile forming on his lips at your words. it's nighttime where he's at, and it shows through the darkness of the hotel window he currently resides in. the video shakes as he holds his phone, moving away from the window and onto a bed.

"do you like it?" he asks, propping a hand behind his head and on a pillow. "the florist recommended that one for you. she said it had a special meaning."

"yeah? tell her she has amazing taste and is very kind if you ever meet her again."

he hums, eyes hazy and laced with sleep. you smile when he tries to stifle a yawn. "you should go to sleep. it's late there, isn't it?"

"it's fine." he yawns like a puppy is your first thought when he does let it out. there's an air of tiredness around him, clearly drained from practice and a match. you giggle when he yawns again, this time stretching his hands above his head like a cat. adorable. "i wanna talk to you for a bit more. i miss you."

you soften at that. "i miss you too. just three more days, right?"

he nods at that, the smile never leaving his face. the smile, you've come to realize, is reserved especially for you. "i told the florist to write a note for you too. is it there?"

you hum, placing the phone against your mug to look for it. you've been too distracted by its beauty that you never noticed the small piece of white paper that's attached to one of the flowers' stems. the first thing that catches your eye is the list of flowers the bouquet is made from and their meaning.

roses; love, warmth. dahlia; eternal love, appreciation, commitment. chrysanthemums; loyalty, happiness, joy. ranunculus; charm and attractiveness. anemones; anticipation.

the second, is the beautiful cursive handwriting that details, "i'll love you until the last one withers."

you look back to your phone, smiling brightly at him. "thank you. this means everything to me." there's an air of happiness that surrounds him at your words, his smile brightening along with yours. there's a glint in his eye that you're suspicious of, yet you don't get to call him out for it.

"i'm glad you like it. i'm gonna head in now. i'll text you in the morning, okay?" he hums, padding from his bed and turning the light off, bathing him in a moonlit glow. "call me when you wake up."

"okay." there's always a bittersweet feeling in saying good night to him, in saying temporary farewells. your shoulders slump slightly and you nod, blowing him a kiss. "night. sweet dreams. i love you."

"i love you too, angel."

the line disconnects after a few minutes of silent staring and you sigh, turning away to find a vase for your newly bought gift. it's only when you're gently placing the flowers in that you realize one's different from the others. you chuckle, holding the fake flower to your chest. picking up your phone, your fingers glide across the screen, sending him a text you hope he'll see when he wakes.

you: who knew you were such a romantic

you: i'll love you forever. thank you. you mean the world to me.

your fingers stop as you take in the flower once more, every single one of its petals has been painted a different color. it's smooth against your hand, and you grin when you lift it to your nose to sniff. it smells like him.

you: send me your hotel address. i'm sending you a gift.

you: me.

[lucyrose191]

12 YEARS LATER, PART 2| S.O BLACK

Pairing; POA!Sirius Black x wife!reader

Summary; It’s been 12 years since Y/N last saw her husband, now it was time to see him for the first time, what could she say to him?

Warnings; Angst? Fluff, Sirius probably looks like death

HP/Marauders Master List

Sirius felt happiness and immense relief to see that the home you shared all of those years ago hadn’t changed at all, the garden was still well kept and from what he could see through the windows of the living room, it was still decorated the same way.

It was like a breath of fresh air being back in the place that held so many memories and loving moments; moments that had gotten him through the past twelve years of hell.

Knowing he was innocent had protected his sanity against the dementors but remembering those soft touches and electric kisses had kept him half happy.

He frequently dreamt of those slow mornings you spent together, that feeling of pure happiness he felt back then to wake up next to you, being able to see you first thing in the morning was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.

He hadn’t really known how lucky he was back then to have those small moments; he had only realised when it had been taken away from him.

Sirius had thought about you every single day. He wondered how you looked, if you had moved on and created a family, if you hated him…

And now, his heart was pounding in his chest as he scratched at the door with his paw, knowing that you and Harry were merely on the other side.

He could hear your voice and whilst it was more matured and had lost that young playfulness he once knew, it was still you.

He waited. Waited. Waited.

As each minute passed by, his heart beat more erratic in his chest.

Eventually, the door opened.

It wasn’t you, it was Harry stood there with a massive smile on his face at the sight of his godfather.

Even though he knew there was no one around for miles, Sirius cautiously looked around before he transformed back into himself. "It’s good to see you again, Harry," his voice was hoarse and gruff from its lack of use but still held its friendly tone.

Harry launched himself into Sirius’ arms, catching the latter off guard and almost sending him tumbling off the sheer force of the impact but he welcomed the embrace with a chuffed laugh. "I’m glad you’re staying here, Padfoot."

Sirius mindfully patted Harry’s back as he pulled away, smiling slightly but Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t really paying much attention, he could see the distraction in the way his godfather was looking over his shoulder into the house, as though hoping to catch sight of something, or someone. "Where’s your godmother?" He asked in a dreaded whisper.

Harry shuffled awkwardly as he looked back into the house before looking back to Sirius. "Uhm, she’s in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Sirius swallowed but nodded, releasing a nervous sigh as he looked to the ground then back up, not really knowing what to do.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that you weren’t really impressed with the last minute bomb he dropped on you when you weren’t ready and that Sirius was at a loss to what he could say to you after over a decade of being without you. Harry had put the three of you in this situation and felt the responsibility to guide you through it.

"Why don’t you go to my room and you can get cleaned up and I can find you some clothes to wear then you can join us and have something proper to eat?" He suggested, sighing in relief when Sirius nodded, seeming to like that idea.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that it was beginning to ache, the pain almost becoming unbearable as you heard footsteps behind you.

"It’s just me," Harry spoke, calming you instantly, causing you to turn around.

"Where is he?" You whispered, looking around wearing, you felt uneasy in your own house knowing that he was nearby.

"I took him upstairs to my room so he could shower, do you know if we have any clothes he could change into?" Harry asked.

You paused for a moment before speaking. "I do, actually." Thinking back to the boxes hidden away at the back of your wardrobe, you didn’t know if they’d still fit him but they were his.

"Could you grab them for me and I’ll take them to him?" You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, leaving Harry to keep an eye on the food.

You could hear the sound of running water that came from Harry’s en-suite; he was so close yet so far and you had no idea how to feel about it.

You grabbed him clean socks, underwear, joggers and a t-shirt, even going as far as pulling out some of his old hair care products that used to crowd the bathroom counter knowing that Azkaban probably hadn’t been great for his hair and that would have broken your Sirius’ heart.

Sirius couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of the clothes and products that had been left on Harry’s bed for him, they were his, you had kept them all of these years, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

He had purposely taken his time getting dressed whether he was aware of it or not, he was trying to prolong the time it would take to see you, hoping he’d think of something he could say to you, he hadn’t thought of anything by the time he had finished so he just bit the bullet and slowly made his way downstairs.

The entire house was the way he had left it that Halloween night in 1981, only with the addition of photos of you and Harry from throughout the years, it made him smile to see that you had both had a nice life, the only thing that made him sad was that it had been just the two of you and he hadn’t been there with you.

The sound of your’s and Harry’s voices floating from the kitchen filled his heart, he could tell the bond between the pair of you was strong.

As soon as he hit the threshold of the kitchen, the chatter immediately stopped, the pair of you were already sat as the table with your plates in front of you; a large plate of food was sat in front of an empty chair opposite you, waiting for him.

The two of you made eye contact and every thought in his mind disappeared, all those words he wanted to say to you no longer mattered because everything that needed to be said was spoken just from looking into your eyes.

You were beautiful, just as you had been back then and you still had the same effect on him. The air was sucked from his lungs and he was punched in the face with the most overwhelming feeling of love he had ever experienced, the ring that had remained on his finger since you were nineteen was suddenly weighed down by his feelings for you that hadn’t disappeared in the slightest, even after so long apart.

His eyes shot to your left hand and his chest grew heavy at the lack of jewellery on your finger, he had to remind himself that he had betrayed you though, by leaving you that night with no telling of what he was doing, he had simply left and not returned.

"Padfoot," Harry’s voice cut through the tension between the two of you. "You should eat something," he pointed towards the plate that was piled with food.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded weakly, carefully making his way to the table and sitting down, it was as though he thought any movement that was too fast would break something between you that hadn’t yet been fixed.

The three of you sat in the most intense silence; Sirius and Harry ate but you had quickly lost your appetite, the sight of him had just about torn you in two.

He was all skin and bone, every movement he made showed just how weak he was, the shaking of his hands a sign of his lack of nutrition.

Even though you hadn’t seen him before his shower you know it must have done him well because his skin was clean and he looked fresh, his facial hair was neatly groomed and his hair, though longer than you remember, was in its typical ringlets, a sharp contrast to the way he looked in the wanted posters you had seen.

Sirius was thankful to eat something that wasn’t wild animals he had hunted; food that was actually filling and would give him the energy he lacked.

He could feel the glances you kept sending him but kept his head down and his attention focused on his meal, he was afraid of what you would say to him.

Would you tell him you had moved on a long time ago and you were simply doing this for Harry?

The sound of you clearing your throat caused him to look up, Harry had disappeared without him noticing, it was just the two of you, your eyes looking into his with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

"I’m glad you’re okay," you spoke, voice ever so gentle.

Sirius dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, focusing all of his attention on you. "I’m glad you and Harry are okay, it was all I ever thought about," he replied.

The roughness of his voice took you by surprise but you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the lack of people he had to speak to whilst he was imprisoned.

"A part of me was worried, knowing you were out there all alone," you confessed.

Your words made his heart swell but he knew better than to get his hopes up. "And the other? Worried that I wanted to hurt him?" He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice, the thought of you thinking he could do such a thing would break him.

"Worried that you didn’t want to actually, I was worried that everything the public knew about you was wrong and that you were out there all alone in the cold and wanting to do something good. Because it meant you had been locked up all those years for nothing and well, that worry was a reality."

Your words comforted him but there was one thing they had been on his mind since he had spoken to Harry for the first time. "You only told him about me at the beginning of the year when I escaped, why?"

You looked down at the table, tears in your eyes. "It was just me and Harry for years, I had all these photographs for him and all of these stories about James and Lily. There was a constant in the photos that he was curious about, the man with the cheeky smile and the long, curly hair. I just told him you were an old friend because I couldn’t tell the little boy he was back then that the entire Wizarding world thought you were the reason they were dead and I didn’t want to tell him my thoughts either because I wanted him to decide what he wanted to think when he was old enough and he did."

"And what were your thoughts?" He asked the dreaded question.

You smiled painfully and shook your head. "That you are the most irrational and dare I say irresponsible man that I have ever met in my life and you were overwhelmed with grief that night, so much so that you didn’t at all think straight about the outcome of your actions. You were just filled with betrayal and heartbreak that the only thing you cared about was getting revenge and I never blamed you for that, I only ever blamed you for losing the life you deserved to live, losing the life we could have shared."

Sirius’ eyes welled up at your words, both from relief that you never thought he did what he was accused of and guilt for the way he had acted that night, knowing that he had caused you a hell of a lot of loss, loss of the life you had wanted to build with him.

He was suddenly wracked with the emotion of the reality of what had actually happened and what he had missed out on, what you both had missed out on. "Did you-" he wanted to ask but you were already shaking your head.

"Absolutely not, there was never anyone else, it was only ever you and I never had to question it." There was such confidence in your words and it shot right into his chest, it was as though those words had broken the dam that had hidden his emotions because the flood gates had opened and Sirius buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body.

You jumped up from your seat and made your way around the table, taking Harry’s vacant seat and pulling it right up beside Sirius’, wrapping your arms around him.

Sirius leaned into your body, allowing himself to be fully wrapped up in your arms.

It wasn’t long before his sobs stopped but he made no effort to move from your embrace, instead he relished in the familiar comfort that he had longed for and allowed himself to smile as he smelled the scent of the perfume you still wore and had worn since you were a teenager.

You pressed a kiss into his hair before resting your head against his. "I missed you so much." You assured him.

"I missed you, you and Harry were all I ever thought about, you got me through it, you’ve always been my strength." He muttered into your shoulder.

You closed your eyes at his words, not wanting to cry but it was hard, you had him in your arms again and it filled you with so many overwhelming emotions.

"You’re still so beautiful," you laughed at his muffled compliment, squeezing him tighter in response.

"I’m glad you’re here, Sirius. I’m so happy you’re back." You told him.

"Me too," he sighed, then waited for a moment before asking. "Where are your rings?"

You silently and reluctantly pulled away from him but remained close. You reached up and pulled out the chain that was hanging from your neck, hanging from the chain were two rings; one was a simple, thin, silver band and the other was a diamond encrusted band with a large, rectangle shaped, white sapphire in the centre.

"I knew Harry would ask questions because he’s so nosey but I wants to keep them on me," you explained.

Sirius nodded with a smile, happy you still kept them and wore them, his smile widened as he watched you remove the chain from your neck and remove the rings before placing them on your left hand where they belonged.

He moved forward and rested his forehead against yours, not necessarily ready to let go just yet.

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen, you were right, he was nosey but he didn’t really care. He was way too amazed at the sight in front of him, he could quite literally see the connection that was shared between his godparents and was beyond happy that the two of you were able to be reunited and hopefully make your way back to each other.

You would make your way back to each other, Sirius was your family and he was your home. The connection between the two of you hadn’t been lost in the time apart and it only made you more confident in the fact that Sirius Black was your soulmate, he was the other half of your heart and there’s no one else you would wait so long for or want to spend your life with.

You loved him more than anything and well aware that he felt the same way about you.

Tag list; those who asked to be tagged in part 2. @bullets-from-another-dimension @babyclea @mel-vaz @crowleythesexydemon @mspotterh

[jymwahuwu]

Content warnings: yandere, angst(?), some descriptions of capitalism, you're locked up

Summary: You are a bakery owner and you and your shop are going to be evicted by the IPC. Unfortunately, Aventurine is the one handling the plans.

Note: I suddenly want to write this very much...sorry, I don't know what I am writing...🥹

According to the calendar of your home planet, you spent all your savings and bought a bakery three years ago.

Once upon a time, you had your own ideals, which were woven into unrealistic dreams in your childhood paintings. When you become an adult, you realize that adults use lies to pile up in school and blow up beautiful bubbles. Those lies are probably the beginning of your idealized misfortune. Your dream goes from unrealistic to another. Under consumerism, you want a property of your own, with one room, a large living room, an open kitchen, and a ceiling where you can sleep while looking at the stars. Approximately 8,000,000 credits. You deposit money into the Cosmic Bank. Staring at the rising numbers in the bank account with tired eyes, health has been replaced by some slowly rising numbers and countless nights.

Then, you collapse. Your ideal transforms into a spaceship for 1,200,000 credits. However, classmates and friends of Universe University in the same year shared on social media that they had gotten married step by step, had children, and had a lovely next generation from the artificial womb. The venue for their proposal was on a romantic planet with endless sea, sky and seagulls. A growing sense of comparison creates unnecessary suffering. Others tell you, go ahead, just like others, work, save money, buy a house, buy a car, get married, have children, bring new blessings to the universe, and believe in an Aeon you like.

Best is Qlipoth. They said. Everyone said so.

That's the Aeon that IPC fervently believes in. They may not necessarily know about the walls and protections made by Qlipoth, but people must know that IPC is a huge company involved in the economy of the entire universe. Their golden bodies symbolize enviable wealth in people's eyes.

But spacecraft are out of reach. You figured this out through a cheap and unpalatable 10-credit lunch and a scolding from your boss. You know you should set a more realistic goal.

Then let’s get a car with 30,000 credits. There are also jewelry for 50,000 credits. I'll go shopping after get off work. you said so.

You walked into the store and bought a car that met your expectations despite the salesperson's inner eye rolls and eager sales. Stroking its shell, eager joy surges into your heart, as if your hard work has been transformed into a visible reward. This is valuable. And jewelry, you buy a necklace that sparkles around your neck.

Your face was hot with excitement. There is value in this, keep it to yourself and it will appreciate in value!

Trembling with excitement, there is endless emptiness behind the joyful smile. Cosmic Express is responsible for delivering express delivery to your home. You browse the Internet and buy a list of unnecessary things to fill your misery and pain and stop the bleeding that might come out.

Then one day you quit your job after another scolding, knowing that you are just a cog in the functioning of society. You don't want to live like this anymore, but you don't know how to live without money and without getting married like others. You buy a spaceship ticket and wander off randomly. Romantic, casual and comfortable life. You think idealistically again to cheer yourself up. No matter where you go, you have to start a new life.

You arrive on a new planet, a beautiful and highly developed space society. The dome has a transparent dome woven from Qlipoth that envelopes the entire planet. You have heard that IPC has its headquarters here, but some say it is just one of its branches. Regardless, they obsessively imitated the architecture of Aeon Qlipoth, constructing a towering building with a beautiful transparent glass dome. It is stationed on the planet like a banyan tree, tirelessly absorbing money and energy.

You bought a small, independent bakery on one of the shopping streets, renovated it and prepared it for opening and used up almost all the credit in your bank account. But, you are happy, from the bottom of your heart, practicing your baking recipes and thinking about a bright future. On opening day, you put up a sign with a design on it. And greets all guests warmly. They smell the aroma of bread, follow the traces and step into your store, buying this and that bread and drinks. The aroma of food, warm bread, that is the breath of life.

-

One month after opening, Aventurine stepped into your bakery. When socializing at work, he accompanied his clients to drink and enjoy haute cuisine, with a charming smile. During lunch, he would choose a coffee shop or an elegant restaurant to sit and browse the stock market and invest. Those tens of millions of money came and went, only in exchange for a smile or a sip of coffee from him. Wonderful afternoon. Beautiful gamble. But that day, he smelled a different aroma of bread, and realized that a new store had opened in the commercial street.

He walked into the store and browsed the golden bread. Aventurine spent 2 minutes choosing toast and croissants, listening to the sound of money arriving on his phone. He glanced at you, who was in uniform and busy. It was inevitable that he thought from a professional and utilitarian perspective, wondering how this narrow store did not meet the requirements of modern business. Decoration, bread production, marketing, and store staffing. It would be foolish to hire just one clerk. Hiring just one more clerk can lead to more revenue. You obviously have your hands full.

He spent 2 minutes in line. When it was Aventurine's turn to pay, you gave him a warm smile, as warm as sunshine. These days, you remember some familiar faces of your customers. You're a little surprised by the new-faced customers arriving at the store.

You greet him and ask if he wants a takeout or just enjoy it in the store.

"Right here, thank you." Aventurine replied.

So Aventurine sat down, right in the bakery. He munched his bread and invested his money, living his daily life. Day after day, weeks and months passed. Occasionally, he pays attention to you. You always do all the work in the store, packing the bread, putting it on the shelves, and doing the cashiering. So one day, He asked out of curiosity. “Isn’t the bakery owner going to hire an extra employee?”

You opened your eyes wide and smiled awkwardly. "I-I'm the owner of this bakery."

Ah, so here's the answer. Aventurine nodded, you may not have more funds, but he accidentally started to invest and play, just like the play he had not completed in childhood. He loved investing, which was like finding a pearl in the ocean, playing Monopoly, playing with his assets. A desire arose spontaneously, satisfying his heart. "Have you considered expanding the store and staff? I see your bakery is very popular. I've witnessed many, but none like this, and swear there's some potential here."

"Really?" You were a little shy in the compliment. He was surprised at your naivety. "Thank you, but I have no plans yet."

"Oh, you're eating Brioche today." You looked down at the bread he selected. "You are a familiar face. Let me give you a discount. It only costs 200 credits."

Aventurine was about to refuse, but heard your question. "If you don't mind, could you tell me what you do for a living?"

He didn't understand the specific reason. Aventurine didn't want to reveal his work in front of you, so he muttered vaguely. "I'm in the gambling business."

"You mean the casino?" You blinked.

"Yeah, yes," he replied.

"That must be hard…" You recalled the casino in the drama, where the gamblers seemed likely to fight. He must have been mediating frequently there. After thinking about it, you gave him extra drinks and bread. “Here’s today’s special offer!”

Aventurine held the drink at a loss, feeling that the cold drink was radiating heat.

-

On a rainy and windy afternoon, Aventurine won't sit at your outdoor table. He returned to the IPC with the bread and pressed the button for the lift. One of the members of Ten Stonehearts saw him and asked caringly. "I can't see you eating in the office lately. Can you be full just by eating bread?"

"It's okay. I fill up easily." He smiled politely, even though he had eaten some more bread… He didn't refuse your offer.

He finished chewing the bread while scrolling through your bakery’s social media feeds on his phone. You like to update the bakery's social media and have accumulated about a few hundred likes per post. In the photo, you shared a new type of bread, and your passion for life is reflected in your eyebrows and eyes.

The department meeting is just after lunch. The holographic screen fluttered IPC's business plans and developments. IPC announced that one of its small plans was to acquire a new commercial street and all the businesses would have to move out. His eyes reflected the glowing words- your bakery is on that commercial street.

-

Gradually, that friendly customer who works at the casino becomes too busy to visit your bakery, or he finds a new restaurant. There's something empty inside you, like a piece is missing.

New signs were posted in the neighborhood, and other store owners who often borrowed flour and other supplies from each other knocked on your door and told you that the Interastral Peace Corporation was buying the street and that every store was going to be evicted. This will be the place where a new type of space commercial city will be built. Many companies will settle in and open stores. It will be beautiful and modern, just like other space commercial cities. You'd better discuss a compensation plan with IPC now and strive for better terms.

IPC may compromise, but with other economic systems of the entire planet, not with a small commercial street. They do what they say they will do.

Like a bolt from the blue, you repeatedly confirmed and asked questions. Why does it have to be here? Why? What are their plans? How much will the compensation be? The IPC wants the compensation to be as small as possible, and the shop owners will fight for it, but the court is on their side. So don’t be too tough in your attitude, be more diplomatic, be more worldly, and seek more benefits for you. they said.

Many shop owners have signed up for the compensation plan. You are one of the few shop owners who are too stubborn to embrace the world. Guard this shop like a dragon guarding the last treasure. As the deadline gets closer, you notice more rude customers, the ingredient supplier says they can no longer serve you, and some negative messages and reviews appear to smear you. There are also people in all-black uniforms looking outside your store. That's downright creepy.

But you are not afraid, what you are afraid of is that something will be taken away from you again. Those capitalists are used to taking something from you and then giving you something in compensation. Before it was salary, now it's compensation plans.

Occasionally, you bow to reality and pay attention to some new stores, but those prices cannot be bought with compensation.

One night, before you close the shop, you hear the sound of construction work, destroying the original shops. It's not loud and noisy, it's a new space construction technology, but you're terrified and just want to pack up and go home. You have filed a complaint with the court. Once again, you place your hopes on the ethereal, and then you see a figure appear at the window of the bakery.

Ah, it's that customer. He must be here to support you and buy bread.

You maintained your smile and greeted him, "I haven't seen you recently. Where have you been?"

Aventurine just stared. There was some compassion in his expression, and his features were soft. He knew that the gentlest of measures would not work. “…let me talk to you about the new compensation plan.”

You were stunned for a while. "…What do you mean?"

He hands you a card with neatly printed handwriting and the IPC logo.

“Aventurine, Senior Manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department”

You held the card and read it for a while before looking up at him. Your throat was dry but tears were streaming down your face. The holographic screen projects a new plan, specially prepared for you stubborn, idealistic people, to provide better compensation.

"…Go away, I don't want to see you!" You paused for half a minute before getting angry and pushing him out of the store. What flows inside is anger at the betrayal, even though you know he doesn't have to support you. Aventurine's arms opened up to embrace you. You were shocked, struggling, and sobbing. "I don't want to see you…you are with them…I have nothing, and you still want to take it away…"

Halted like an emotional kitten, you whimpered, tired from sobbing, sleep overtook you and darkness enveloped you.

You opened your eyes and found yourself in a luxurious room, with stars visible on the ceiling and a soft quilt covering you. Pillow supports your head. You adjusted to the light for a few seconds, frowned, and moved your hands, but the sound of the chain sounded. You looked at the chains on your hands, stunned, shaking and struggling. "What-what's going on?"

"Ah, you're awake." Aventurine opened the door and came in. He touched your forehead, and you realized that the clothes you were wearing had also been changed. They were a set of pajamas. "What happened?" You shook the chain in your hand in confusion. "Someone attacked us last night?" "Um, it's not like that actually."

Aventurine comforted you and shushed you. "You're locked in. Shhh...shhh, don't scream. I know this may be hard to accept at first, but you'll see the benefits."

He explained, to your expression like a frightened little animal. "…For business purposes, I looked into your background. You've been having a hard time, haven't you? Now you finally have time to relax. This is one of my houses, and it's yours, too."

"I didn't ask you..." Tears welled up in your eyes. Are you going to be locked up? "I know." Aventurine stroked your head gently. "I know, now just relax. I'll take care of the bakery. We'll open a new one somewhere with the ocean, you know, new plans."

You noticed that he used the word "we," which made your heart feel strangely warm. You were speechless, closed your eyes, turned around, a tear flowed down your cheek, and the chain creaked.

This is your new reality, but at least you can rest, right?

[alexa-fika]

hii!! i love all your writings btw im giggling to all of it (i've read the x child!readers its so cute help)

i was wondering if you could make whitebeard pirates x child! with mist df reader that is moody oorrr that kind of child who likes to play pranks. if you could make it use they/them?? thank youu!

Naughty Bratty (Whitebeard pirates x gn!child!reader)

A/N: HERE WE GOOOO I COOKED, once again most part of this is based on interactions either my own students, so I hope you guys liked it, decided to combine these two requests since they are of the same nature and also it made the creation of this the more easier and also slightly longer ✊🏽

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Dokucha Thatch is almost done with lunch; we’re gonna head down to the mess hall, so you need to put your stuff away before we do,” Izou called

“No!” They screamed, kicking their feet

“We can play with them later; right now, we must go to the mess hall and get lunch before food is gone.”

“I don’t want to!”

“That is quite alright, but do know that you won’t get to play with these then,” he said, gesturing to the building blocks in their hands

“Noo!” They cried

“Then pick them up,” he repeated

The small child scowled but obliged, grabbing the blocks from the ground and putting them in the small basket they originally were in

“Thank you”

“Hmph”

He sighed, shaking his head as he followed after the child towards the mess hall, following after them as they grabbed their food

“Dokucha, don’t hold it like that; you will spill it all over,” Thatch called out to the child as they balanced the bowl of food in one of their hands

“I don’t care”

“Well, I do because it’s my kitchen and my responsibility,” he snapped back

They grin at him, smacking the bowl to the floor, laughing gleefully

“Okay, that’s it, you’re done.” He stated, walking towards them

They stick their tongue out at him, turning their body into mist and making a quick exit out of the mess hall and into the deck where they glided over the ship, close enough to remain between the huge sails but high enough to where the crew could not reach them

“Dokucha come down.”

“Nope!” They laughed, accentuating the p as they twirled around in the air

“Dokucha, if we have to come get you, you won’t like what’s going to happen,” Ace called, having followed after the commotion in the mess hall

“Ha! Ha! Can’t catch me!” They mocked the two, pulling at their eye and sticking out their tongue out at them

“No, but I Can,” a voice piped in behind them as a force brought them to the ground

Once they had gathered their thoughts together, they glanced around them, noticing the talons caging them, following them up to the owner only to meet up with the disappointed look of their brother in his hybrid form

They frowned, turning their body into mist once again only to find themselves unable to, noticing how their brother had gotten ahead of them and covered the talons in haki to keep them solid

“Let me go!” They screamed, punching at the talons, trying to slip free from their confinement

“No, can do; you are done for today; we are not doing this.”

They glance at their wrist at the feeling of something surrounding it,only to spot a sea stone bracelet now locked around it, Thatch kneeling next to them

“Take it off, Take it off! ” they hollered

Ace sighed, taking a hold of the child and nodding to Marco as they lifted them, keeping a tight hold on them as they walked into the ship

“Where do I take them?”

“You can take them to my room; we can talk to them there; they'll probably keep trying to run and throw things if we try to talk to them here,” Marco answered, transforming his body back to his human form

“No! Let me go, asshole!”

“We’re not using those words,” Ace sighed

“Fuck you!” They screamed, trashing against him

He shook his head, tightening his hold on the child, and they entered the first mate quarters, placing down the child in the corner of the room

Marco followed after them, closing the door behind him after assuring Thatch they had it covered as he headed back to feed the crew

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere until you calm down and talk to us,” Ace said, blocking their way as they tried to slip away

“Fuck you! I hate you!”

“You can keep talking like that all you want; it will just make you stay here longer.” Marco shrugged

“Fuck you!” They sobbed as they began screaming at the top of their lungs, screams echoing across the room

“You’re just going to hurt your throat doing that,” Marco pointed out

Dokucha ignored them as they simply began to scream louder, kicking at the walls around them as they kept trying to slip away, only to be stopped by Ace each time

After a while, the child’s screams settled down; only small sniffles escaped them as they sat in the corner

“You ready to talk?” Questioned Ace softly

“Yeah,” they muttered, looking up at them

“So? Why did you do it?”

They stayed quiet, not looking at them

“Look at us.”

They ignored him, staring at the ground

“Dokucha, look at us,” repeated Marco sternly

They glance up at them at his words

“Why did you throw your food and run away?” He questioned, kneeling next to them

“I don’t know,” they mumbled

He sighed at this

“You think Thatch liked that?” He questioned

They shook his head

“Okay, so here is what we are going to do: we are going to go back to the kitchen, you are going to apologize to Thatch, and then you’re going to go talk with Pops about what happened,” he explained

“No! Don’t tell him!” They cried

“It’s too late for that Dokucha, we’re telling pops,” Ace told them

“No!” They whined

“You should have thought about that before you did it.”

They frown at that

“Are you ready to go apologize to Thatch?”

They nodded, taking hold of Ace’s extended hand as the three of them made it back to the kitchen, quickly finding Thatch, who, upon seeing them, stepped out of his cooking to approach them

They stayed quiet, fidgeting with the bracelet on their wrist as they shook it around

“Dokucha,” Marco called, a warning tone to his words

“If you are not ready to talk to Thatch, we can take another time-out in my room.”

They glance up at Thatch at the words, muttering a small ‘sorry’ their way

“Sorry for what?” Ace asked, prompting them to continue

“I'm sorry for being mean and throwing your food on the ground,” they finished

“That’s quite alright, pumkin’; it did make me sad to see you were acting like that; you think we could listen to my words next time?,” he asked, kneeling down in front of them

They nodded, giving the man a hug

“Thank you, Pumkin,” he said embracing them

“Alright, thank you for apologizing Dokucha, are you ready to go see pops?” Ace asked, picking them up and placing them on their hip

The child nodded, placing their head against his shoulder as they began walking to the Captain’s quarters

“Pops, you have a second?” Marco asked, knocking on the door, opening at the affirmative response from the older man

Whitebeard glanced at them, sending a questioning look, spotting the child in Ace’s arms

“They are having a rough day today, been rude towards everyone,” Marco elaborates at the unspoken questioned

Whitebeard let out a grunt, waving the two men off as the fireman put them down and walked out of the room, Marco following behind him

“Why are you being a brat today?” He questioned, cutting to the chase

“I'm not…”

“Really? Then what would you call what you have been today? Cause it sounds like you have been a petulant child all day long.”

“Sorry”

He sighed, gesturing them to come closer, plucking them into their lap as they did

“Dokucha, we are not your parents; we don’t have any plans to abandon you.”

“I know”

“You're not showing it,” he quips back

“When you want our attention, you just have to ask us; we are not like them; you don’t have to waste yourself away trying to do the impossible just to be praised; you need just ask, and any of us is thrilled to be with you, so instead of acting like this talk to us, alright?”

“Thank you, Papaw”

Okay I know that that end is kinda suddened but honesgly the other one I had went too deep into the education sode of things and was too messy, so I just decided to stop there, hopefully it makes sense

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.1]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: I know this is technically the first chapter BUT, there is a prologue for this story. So if you haven't checked that out yet, it's linked above, and I highly recommend reading that first.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

The rain grew heavier, encouraging you to turn away from your departing friend in favor of heading home. Combined with the cool early-spring air, you were sure you’d get a chill. It was a little surreal, being a top-charted hero who helped save the world from villainous destruction and taking transit like you were a typical commuter. No one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even recognize you regardless of whether or not you were dressed for work.

That’s how the world was.

They cared for the first few weeks following the end of the war, but that dwindled as weeks stretched into months. Once the roads were rebuilt and everyone resumed their daily lives, there wasn’t much to remind them of what had happened.

And after the upheaval of hero-dominated society, the raving over who was Number One and which debuts showed the most promise declined to almost nothing.

Heroes were becoming a thing of the past.

Your apartment was reminiscent of that fact. For nearly your entire life, you were chasing after some dream of becoming a hero and making the world a better and safer place. Yet there was barely anything decorating your walls or countertops to suggest such a thing. You had been living there for roughly two years, just after the end of the war, but there were countless boxes shoved aside still waiting to be unpacked. You’d peered inside them a handful of times, but you decided it was better that their contents stayed tucked away.

After entering your apartment, you wasted no time in peeling off your soaked clothing. The various articles landed on the linoleum flooring with a wet slap. You kicked your pants to the side and shuffled over to one of the stools at your kitchen counter. You grabbed a throw blanket that was draped over the back of one of them and wrapped it around your shivering body.

A pitiful groan emanated from your stomach just before it cramped up uncomfortably. With a slight wince, you huffed and checked your fridge for any remaining left overs or easy meals.

What a sad sight that was. The light inside of the fridge illuminated your face as you stared at mostly empty shelves.

Whatever.

You could always order take out.

Swiping away missed calls and unread messages, you began a search for anything that sounded appealing.

Maybe if you’d gotten a text from Toga or Iguchi, you would have cared. But Toga was obviously busy with her big move, and you couldn’t remember the last time Iguchi had reached out to you. For a while, you two would try to make time to grab lunch or play games like you used to, but you both knew it was hardly the same anymore. You saw each other less and less, until your meetups stopped altogether.

Nowadays, your dreams were filled with memories rather than hopes for the future. Your heart and soul longed for the experiences and the people in your past, and the only way you could indulge was in your sleep. Waking up afterwards was like pulling teeth as you tried your utmost to return to whatever memory had been playing out in your mind.

The doorbell rang.

Your food was left outside your door, and after bringing it in, you ate maybe half of it before banishing the leftovers to the fridge of doom. The light filtering into your apartment gradually turned cool and dim, meaning it was just late enough for you to justify turning in for the night. You didn’t bother putting on a dry set of clothes, instead opting to crawl into bed wearing your mildly soggy undergarments.

Every day was the same. You’d work, go home, eat, and sleep. You never went out anymore, and you were certain that if you picked up your TV remote, it would leave a silhouette behind contrasting the dusty surface.

The only bits of ‘décor’ you had were photographs strewn about your TV stand. None of them were framed. They just lay there for you to peruse whenever you wanted to inflict even more emotional damage upon yourself. The old photos of your friends from work and school before the war best served for collecting dust.

There was one that stood out from the rest. It lay on your nightstand, still sheen from its frequent handling.

Delicately, you picked it up, just as you did most nights, and peered down at it.

–

It was the day Tenko Shimura officially started as a pro-hero at the AFO Hero Agency.

He spent the past few years with them as an internship and a work study, but everyone felt that starting there as a graduate was something to be celebrated. So you all made a day of it.

Everyone was there, and the conference room had been decorated and rearranged to better fit the occasion. Several platters of food lined the tables, filling the room with a heavenly aroma that complimented the chatter quite well.

Tenko wasn’t typically one for parties or huge get-togethers, especially when he was the focus, but he was kept from standing idly as people took turns congratulating him. You could tell he was beginning to grow tired of all the socializing.

You chuckled as you stepped up to his side, walking him away from his dying conversation. You watched as he relaxed his tense shoulders and dipped his head back with an airy groan.

“How does it feel being the life of the party?” you snickered.

He glowered at you through his messy, black bangs before placing a gloved hand on your shoulder and giving you a strong shove that sent you stumbling. You cursed as you regained your balance, ready to retaliate but he was already walking away from you.

“Hey!” You trotted back up to him.

“You’re next, you know,” he said, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You tilted your head to the side, “To be the focus of a party?”

“To join the agency,” he corrected. “When you graduate, you’d better.”

“Oh, of course.” You grinned at him before narrowing your eyes slightly. “But only if you promise to stick around until then.”

“I’m planning on it,” he chuckled, “Unless you piss me off.”

It was your turn to jab at him, but, unlike you, he kept his balance, barely even stepping to the side.

The two of you found a secluded place to sit and chat idly but it was mostly filled with a comfortable silence as you scrolled on your phones. You were only granted a few minutes of social reprieve before Magne came looking for you.

“Are you two aware that the party isn’t out here?” she said, crossing her arms like a disappointed mother.

You and Tenko exchanged a glance, but neither of you said a word.

“Get your asses in there!” She scolded, shepherding the two of you back to the celebration. “We’re taking a group picture.”

Everyone crowded together. You were pushed up against Tenko’s side, and the two of you felt Iguchi drop his arms onto your shoulders. He stood behind you, still clearly visible between your heads, and Toga latched herself onto your free arm. Touya lurked on the very edge of the group while Compress took on a dramatic pose to ensure his theatrics would be captured for all of eternity.

One of Jin’s doubles positioned himself in front of everyone, partially crouched down and shuffling this way and that in order to get the perfect angle.

He didn’t have to tell you to say ‘cheese’ to get you to grin from ear-to-ear.

You felt Tenko’s gloved hand press against the small of your back as the camera flashed, immortalizing the occasion.

–

Seeing everybody grinning back at you in the photo four years later made your heart ache in many ways. You were happy that you possessed that memory as well as a picture to always remind you of it. But you were also tormented by the fact that it would never be recreated.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t always come to fruition.

When you started as a pro-hero at the agency, the world was in too much chaos to celebrate. And even if you held a celebration once everything settled down, Tenko wouldn’t be there to congratulate you.

In spirit, maybe.

When you really thought about it, almost everyone would be missing.

Magne had passed many years ago, when your team was assigned to the Overhaul-Eri case. The war took away Jin, Touya, Sensei, and, of course, Tenko. Iguchi would have stuck around long enough, but Atsuhiro was forced into retirement when the war first started.

In a way, the villains got what they wanted. Countless heroes were decommissioned, and those who remained were no longer viewed in the same positive light as they once were. Criticism was high if a hero couldn’t carry out a job flawlessly and without any casualties. Even then, you were always at risk of being deemed a ‘fame-chaser’ or that you were only in it for the money.

The only heroes that remained were the honest and the resilient.

You liked to think you were both, but as time went on, you grew more unsure. In the beginning, you were more than eager to make a positive impact on people’s lives, regardless of whether or not you were credited or paid for it. Eventually, you met everyone at your agency, and hero work changed your life for the better. Even if you failed a job, you had people by your side to pick you back up and keep you pushing forward.

But now?

Now, you were tired.

You no longer had your support system keeping you motivated and in good spirits. While you still felt pleased with every life you protected, that feeling of fulfillment would be gone by the time your head touched your pillow.

That’s where you were at currently.

With a deep sigh, you let go of the photograph, letting it fall back onto the nightstand, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You shut your eyes, but you knew it would be hours before you actually fell asleep. You would either sleep the day away or you’d barely sleep at all. Rarely could you find a balance between the two.

Usually, you would stay up thinking about how everything ended up the way it did, and whether there was anything you could have done to prevent it all from happening. What could you possibly have done so that your team would still be at your side?

If you were split up differently during the Overhaul raid so that you were in Magne’s group, you could have pushed her out of the way of Chisaki’s fatal touch. If you had stuck by Jin’s side instead of letting him go into the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters alone, you could have fought off Hawks before he landed his deadly blow.

And Tenko…

You’d probably have to end the war all on your own in order to save him. He was at the forefront of every battle, leading the charge. He had no regard for his own safety. He gave up his own body so that Mr. Shigaraki could transfer his quirk and conscience to it. You’re pretty sure that was the point of no return.

After that, you don’t think anything that came out of Tenko’s mouth was truly him.

Whether or not he could even hear you scream and cry for him in the final moments of the war would remain a mystery.

The heels of your hands pressed deeply against your eyes as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your head. You couldn’t do this tonight. You needed to do something, anything, other than lay there and dwell on things of the past.

How could you have known what was to come?

Throwing off your covers, you ripped the last garments from your person and got up to change into something clean and dry. You had to get out of your sad and dingy little apartment. You wiggled your way into a spare hero suit after deciding that lending a helping hand for the night was your best chance at clearing your head.

You made your way back to your agency as quickly as you could through the frigid rain. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were summer time, since the warmth would typically counteract it, but you still had a few months of spring to get through. By the time you arrived, you were a bit damp, but you found it hard to care. Pulling your keycard out of your wallet, you tapped into the system so you could get in.

Even though it was late, there were still a few people around in case of emergency, and none of them were surprised to see you stroll in. Two of them were people you had graduated with, though they did their work studies elsewhere.

“Hiya,” Minji, a pink-haired and bubbly girl, sang to you in greeting. She was sitting alert at her desk, ready for whatever report came her way.

“Hi,” you nodded, walking over to her.

Another girl you attended school with was lounging in the space adjacent to hers, leaning back as far as her chair would allow, both feet propped up on the desk. Her head turned over in your direction before she acknowledged you, “Need something to do?”

“If you have anything,” you said with a shrug.

“I think Sakiko got a call-in just a few minutes ago requesting a hero to accompany the transport of a villain,” Minji chimed with a soft smile, eyes darting over to her companion.

“Uh, yeah. Let me get the details on that,” Sakiko mumbled as she kicked her feet off of the desk and scooted closer to search through her computer. “Yeah, so the police want to transport a villain to a higher security prison… His name is Dai Uchuu. He was involved with Overhaul during the raid, but he was able to escape, and there’ve been no updates on his activity since. We also don’t have any official documentation but his quirk is believed to be a teleportation-type triggered by his hands making contact with each other.”

“Sure, that works. Send me the address, and let them know I’ll be there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The station wasn’t too far from the agency. You walked for maybe ten minutes before you could see its lit-up sign at the end of the block. There was a brief flicker but it recovered almost immediately. However, the lights within the station began to spasm on and off, which was slightly more concerning.

The police relied mainly on quirk-nullifying restraints and cells to prevent breakouts. If they were having issues with the power, then the nullification effects would likely be down, and that would be quite the problem.

You quickened your pace and rushed into the building. The first thing you noticed was the plethora of odd objects that had been thrown about the lobby. There was a bicycle on top of the desk, a canoe sticking out from one of the doorways, and a large tub of paint that was actively rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blue behind it. You could see a large splatter on the wall where you assumed it had made contact.

The second thing you noticed was the silence. Despite the apparent chaos, not a single cop was in sight. You couldn’t even hear any voices emanating from adjacent rooms. There was no one.

You briefly reported the situation to your agency through the communicator strapped to your forearm and cautiously proceeded onto the other rooms. The holding area and the locker rooms were empty and in similar condition to the lobby. You were about to say the same for the offices, but you noticed a quiet murmur coming from behind one of the far desks.

In a slight crouch and with light feet, you slinked in that direction. As you peered around one of the desks, you saw the villain, Uchuu, still dressed in his medieval garb. His colorful back was turned to you as he rummaged through a filing cabinet. The quirk-nullifying restraints dangled from one of his wrists. One of the officers must have gotten that on him after he had a go at most of the building.

But then why hadn’t you run into him?

You silently reached forward and cast your quirk, causing his clothes to freeze him in place. As you walked forward, he began to snicker. You faltered a step at his odd behavior.

“Of course you would be the one to show up,” he spoke with a strange accent.

“I guess?” You positioned yourself in front of him. You wouldn’t be able to attach the restraint he had on to his other wrist due to it being frozen along with him, so you pulled out one of the few that you carried. “What happened to everyone?”

You reached forward to attach the new set of cuffs, but as you did, you caught sight of the file he was holding.

Was that your name?

The cabinet he was going through was supposed to contain criminal profiles. Just as you were about to question how and why he had one that was addressed to you, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” You jerked away and were about the curse the man out for fucking pinching you, before processing the fact that he was standing up. Your surprise had caused you to release your quirk, freeing him.

“What a fortunate turn of events this has been,” he drawled with a wicked grin. You narrowed your eyes and raised your arm to use your quirk again, but before you could, his hands clapped together.

You felt your entire body lurch forward, and for a moment, everything was black.

You figured you must have blinked because it was only a second before you could see clearly again. A wave of nausea began crawling its way up your belly, but you did your best to ignore the feeling while you frantically looked around.

It took you a moment to realize that Dai Uchuu was no longer in front of you. The filing cabinet was closed and no more papers were littering the floor. He must have gotten what he was looking for and bolted… Were you seeing black for longer than you realized?

If he clapped his hands, he must have tried using his quirk but he still had a restraint around one of his wrists. That should have been enough to still subdue his quirk, so he had to be around somewhere.

You quickly made to leave, almost bumping into an officer who was standing up from his desk. He shouted after you, and you gave a clipped apology but kept on your pursuit. As you entered the lobby, you almost ran head first into another officer and had to pause to move out of her way. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry though.

“Do you know which way he went?” you quickly asked her as you began walking backwards towards the exit of the building.

She looked perplexed, doing a double take of you. “Who? What were you doing in that area?”

He must not have gone that way otherwise, given his outlandish appearance, she surely would have remembered. That meant he would still be in the building.

“That’s where I found Dai Uchuu. He was going through some of the criminal records but he managed to get away,” you explained, slowly walking back towards her. “I’m not sure what he was looking for, but I’m guessing—”

“Who are you?”

What?

“I’m the hero assigned to your case,” you said matter-of-factly. “You guys sent in a request for help, so I came.”

She jerked her head back, scrutinizing you. “We didn’t—”

“Listen, if you didn’t see him come this way, he must still be in the building. You guys should look for him here, and I’ll check outside in case he found some other way out,” you said as you began a quick pace into the lobby.

They made quick work of cleaning up, because all of the foreign objects that were thrown about when you’d arrived were nowhere to be seen. You noticed even the giant paint splatter was gone. Actually, the entire place looked spotless of even normal dirt and wear-and-tear. Maybe you should’ve hired them to clean up your apartment for you.

The room erupted in clamor as you booked it outside. It was a lot clearer out without the rain, but you still couldn't see any sign of the villain. Leaving it up to intuition, you started sprinting down the road to your left as you updated your agency through your communicator with a request for more heroes to help search.

You were barely running for a minute before you began feeling overheated. There was no way you were that tired already, you didn’t go through all that training for nothing. Then, you realized it wasn’t your body that was too warm, it was the air around you. Not even ten minutes ago, you were freezing your ass off as you trudged to the station in the rain. Now, it felt like the temperature outside was pushing 70 degrees.

Someone had to be controlling the weather. Quirks like that were rare, but not unheard of. Either way, that was somebody else’s problem. You were a little preoccupied at the moment.

You were growing irritated that you hadn’t heard anything from your colleagues. Minji was usually super responsive. She must have stepped away and left Sakiko in charge, which would explain the lack of urgency on their end.

Your pace began to slow as your energy grew more and more depleted.

Your end of the search was proving to be pointless. You passed a run-down convenience store when you decided it would be best to head back to the station to see if the police were fruitful. You heard the chime of the shop’s bell too late, turning on your heel to retrace your steps and crashing into someone as they were exiting.

You jostled back.

There were two people, and your collision caused them to drop their bags, scattering the contents. You crouched down to help them pick up whatever had fallen, hoping they didn’t have any paper products for the rain-soaked ground to get soggy.

Your eyebrows pressed together as you picked up a messy handful of napkins. You looked down at the sidewalk and pressed your hand against it.

It was bone dry.

That couldn’t be right, there’s no way the water would have evaporated that quickly.

You couldn’t ponder the strange occurrence for long as the shoe of one of the people stepped closer to you. Hurriedly, you scooped as many items back into the bag as you could and peered up at them with an apologetic smile. They were already reaching toward you with an open hand. It was a bit too close to your face for your liking, so you leaned away as you stood.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” You pushed the bag into their hand and finally looked at the person’s face to see it was mostly covered by a black face mask and a hood. Despite that, peeking through a plume of dusty blue hair was a pair of fiery red eyes that felt as if they were burning through your soul.

♡ ♡ ♡

➨ Chapter Two

taglist: @boogiemansbitch

[fredwkong]

Gateway Drug

You had always had fantasies about marijuana. The DARE officer had described the sensation of being stoned, the desire to do nothing but get stoned again. He’d scared you deeply, scarred you, even. You’d never even gotten close to buying any, terrified that you would… what? Enjoy it?

Now, here you were. It was legal, and not only that, the psychiatrist had told you it would help with your anxiety. You had walked into the dispensary and walked out with a product, and the world hadn’t ended.

The clerk had handed you three pre-rolled blunts, and said that they were guaranteed to ease you into getting stoned. He’d had a strange smile on his face as he’d said it, but you had been so anxious that you hadn’t registered it. You’d barely been able to get a word out faced with him: a laid-back, blissed-out stoner who stank of skunk and body odour.

You hurried home and got ready. You laid out some of your favourite snacks on your obsessively clean counter, and tidied everything away. You thought about dusting a second time, but realised you were delaying. You tugged down your scratchy polo shirt and wiped your sweating hands on your pressed khakis.

With shaking fingers, you flicked on a lighter and lit one of the blunts. As soon as the smell of the smoke hit your nose, you felt yourself loosen up. It didn’t smell so bad.

You took a hit and resisted the urge to cough. By the time you breathed the smoke out, you were already starting to feel relaxed. Your polo shirt loosened into a soft, old band tee, and your khakis became a pair of worn sweatpants. As you took a second hit, the smell of weed embedded itself in your pores and the fabric of your clothes, filling your whole awareness.

With the weed hitting you, you started to sink deeper into the couch, which had just been a new Ikea loveseat but was swiftly becoming a beat-up, stained, broken-in sofa with a dent for your thickening ass. Your head, facial, and body hair grew out sloppily, greasy with unwashed sweat and oil. The smell of weed mixed with the growing scent of your unwashed, musky bod.

You took another slow hit, and your slow, stoned brain sent you a new idea: you started to strip off your musky, threadbare T-shirt and wiggle out of your sweatpants. It felt great to get naked in the comfort of your own home. The cool air tingled against your oily skin as you settled back onto the couch. You wiggled your long toes against the carpet, enjoying the sensation against the oily digits.

The growing cloud of pot smoke briefly obscured your vision, and when it drifted away your apartment was transformed into a proper stoner den. The couch faced a wide-screen TV with a full shelf of gay porn under it. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and trash you were too lazy and stoned to pick up. In the kitchen, the grungy counter was covered in empty takeout containers, and the sink full of dishes. The bed in the opposite corner wasn’t even visible under piles of clothes that might have been clean or might have been dirty.

Your body changed, too. Rather than being slender and weedy, you were now softer, shorter, and definitely hairier. You scratched your hairy balls as you alternated between tokes on the blunt and sniffs of your rancid armpit. At this point, your dick got more than interested, standing to attention and beginning to spurt jets of pre from your big stoner ballsac. Getting stoned always got you horny. And you were always getting stoned, so you were always horny. The rich smell of your uncut dick mingled with the stench of weed.

As you took the last few hits from the blunt, expertly smoking it right down to your fingers, you started to jack off, using your ample precum like lube. As you leaned back and moaned in a deep, blissed-out voice, your collection of bongs and other weed paraphernalia appeared on the coffee table in front of you, the only place you cared about keeping tidy. You shot a huge load all over your naked pecs and belly, which you rubbed into your thick hair as you discarded the spent blunt in an ashtray.

You grabbed a half-finished bag of cheetos from the kitchen counter and lay back down on the couch, scrolling Grindr and wondering if the hot clerk from the dispensary was available to bottom. Then you remembered the pack of three blunts he had given you. Your previous life was like a distant dream in the back of your mind, but you knew just enough to wonder if two of your old, uptight dude friends might want to come over and try some of your special weed.

It was a gateway drug, after all.

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Tell me Again (Soap/Reader)

CW: vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, vibrators, mutual pining, queerplatonic relationship to lovers, roommates, alcohol

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 2.9k

I groaned as I pulled my keys from the ignition. The roar of the engine abruptly came to a halt. I stepped out of the car, shuffling to the trunk. An aching pain swelled in my back. I sighed, pulling the trunk open. At least I remembered to pack light. 

The wheels of my suitcase clicked as they rolled over the pavement. I shoved my hand into my jacket pocket, pulling out my carabiner. Squinting my eyes in the low light, I flipped through the sets of keys. One for my car. One for the hospital I worked at in the States, never did give it back. One for the lockbox in my room. One for the front door. 

The smell of cinnamon filled my senses as I stepped through the door. I pushed my coat over my shoulders, letting it fall where I stood. The chatter of the television echoed from the living room.

“Johnny?” I called out, kicking the door shut. 

The Scot appeared from around the corner, splotches of flour on his face. He was usually away for long periods of time, months even. It was a schedule that rivaled my own. Being home at the same time was always odd. A welcome surprise. 

“Saw on the calendar you were coming home. Figured I’d make some cookies before you came in.” He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, spreading more flour over his skin. 

“Is it…going okay?” I asked, stepping into the kitchen. The counters were a mess of half-mixed batter and flour. An open milk carton and a half-melted stick of butter sat out by the sink. 

“We didn’t have baking soda, so I used baking powder, but….” He gestured to the greasy, melted cookies on the baking tray. I clasped my hand over my mouth, stifling the laugh rising from my chest. 

“Johnny what-” I stopped, lips parted, but no words left my mouth. Sighing, I stepped forward. “I’ll help you clean this up. How about we just order takeout?”

The half-risen cookies were tossed out, but not before Johnny snuck a bite, spitting it out into the sick. The front of my scrubs were dusted in a fine layer of flour. With the help of a wet rag, the countertops were wiped clean. Stepping back to look at the tidy kitchen, I turned to Johnny. The tip of my thumb slipped past my lips, gliding over my tongue. I brought my finger to his face, wiping away the blotches of flour. He shook his head, lips curled up into a bright grin. 

“How was your mission?” I asked, talking with a bite of pizza in my mouth. 

“Classified.” He nodded, taking a swig from his can. “What about your…work?”

“Poland fucking sucks.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “How long you in for?”

“Two and a half weeks.”

His hand rested on my bare knee. I glanced up at him. His facial hair had grown out. Dark circles rimmed his blue eyes. The glare of the television reflected off of his corneas. His hair had grown longer. The shaved sides of his head had grown out nearly an inch long. I reached out, running my fingers through his hair. He pursed his lips, hiding the small smile that crept across his face. 

“Your hair’s gotten long, Johnny.” His eyes fluttered closed. A deep hum echoed from his chest. My face felt warm as he leaned into my hand. His fingers squeezed my knee. 

“Need to shave it.” 

“I could shave it for you,” I shrugged, pulling my hand away. 

“You’re too good to me,” he hummed. “Later, don’t wanna move.” He pushed my legs apart and moved to lag between them. I glanced down at the Scot as he pressed the side of his face against my stomach. Affection was something we’d shown each other, whether it was an arm around a shoulder during a drunken walk home, or sharing the other's bed on a cold night. This felt different. I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered as I glanced at the man between my legs. I grabbed my can, taking a swig hoping the booze would quell my nerves. 

I shifted in my seat, setting the can down with a thud. My fingers dug into the couch cushions. I caught a glimpse of blue and looked down at Johnny. His navy eyes were staring straight at me, not faltering even as I caught his glance. 

“Your heart’s racing.” He stated plainly. 

“Just worked up from my trip.” My voice stuttered. I gritted my teeth, hoping my words would seem somewhat convincing. Hoping a blatant lie would somehow stop the throbbing in my core. 

“I think I just want to go to sleep. I’m sorry,” I forced a frown. The cushions shifted beneath us as he rose. I quickly stood, tugging the hem of my shorts down my thighs, now acutely aware of how they rode up. 

“Feel better.” He mumbled, giving a short nod. 

The mattress creaked, pulling me from my slumber. I groaned, eyelids fluttering open. A soft beam of moonlight shone through my window. My body felt warm, much warmer than what my duvet could provide. I glanced over my shoulder, only to be met with a pair of eyes. His arm was over my waist, keeping me tight against his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered. 

“Johnny, what are you doing?” I placed my hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I just haven’t seen you in so long.” He pressed soft kisses against my head and down the nape of my neck. 

“Johnny-”

“And you said you weren’t feeling well.” His fingers kneaded my stomach. 

“Johnny…”

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” His hips pressed flush to me. I could feel his cock stiffening through his joggers. My grip on his hand tightened. 

“What are you doing,” I repeated. He pulled away, sitting up. Through the pale moonlight, I watched as he ran his fingers through his long hair. His brows furrowed, lip quivering ever so slightly. 

“Tell me to stop so I can put these feelings aside.” His voice shook. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, eyes locked onto the man before me. His blue eyes darted away. “Just tell me to fuck off and I’ll go.”

“I’m not going to tell you that, Johnny.” I sat up, holding my hands out. I cradled his face in my hands. He exhaled a shaky breath, leaning forward into my touch. 

I thought back to all the tumultuous nights I’d spent with him, schedules clashing. All I thought about as I started a central line, or changed a bedpan, was coming home. I yearned for his hands, and how they soothed out the knots in my shoulders after a long month away. I glanced at my luggage, and to the shirt of his that lay within. It had gotten lost in the wash…or so I told him. 

I stared at him, his furrowed brows and pursed lips. His blue eyes flicked across my face. I leaned in close enough to feel his hot breath. Close enough to hear a soft noise escape his lips. Close enough to press my lips to his. 

His lips were chapped, and his breath tasted like beer. Despite the jagged bits of skin digging into my lips, I couldn’t get enough. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling his chest to mine.

My heart pounded in my ears. Any trace of a thought fled my head. All I could think about were his hands on me. His fingers skated up and down my sides, slipping under my shirt. 

My skin felt warm. As if acting on their own, my hands reached out, tugging his shirt over his shoulders. He pushed his hands against my chest, urging me to lie down. My stomach fluttered as he kneeled between my legs. He ran his palms up my sides, stopping at the hem of my shirt. 

“Can I…” his voice trailed off. 

“Yes, Johnny.” I held my arms above my head, allowing him to free me of my shirt. He sat back on his shins, eyes taking in every inch of bare skin. I traced incoherent patterns into his skin with my fingertips, circling every taught muscle. 

He leaned forward, bare chest pressing against my own. I cupped his face in my hands. His blue eyes, nearly pitch black in the dim lighting, flicked between my lips and my eyes. 

I tugged him closer, my lips meeting his in a heated kiss. I felt his tongue drag against my bottom lip. My lips parted just enough for his tongue to intrude. My brows furrowed, ankles crossing behind his back. I needed him closer, needed to feel more of him. 

He slowly rocked his hips against mine, moaning into my mouth. His stiff cock dragged against my core. A noisy breath escaped my parted lips. His lips moved down my jaw to my neck. A jolt of pain wracked my body as his canines sunk into my skin. He gently kissed over the marred skin, softly cursing under his breath. 

“Johnny please,” I whined. His hips halted in an instant. He pulled his spit-soaked lips away from my bruised neck. His pupils were dilated, eyes half-lidded. 

“Say that again,” he held my face in his hand, thumb softly stroking my cheek. 

“Please Johnny, I need more. Need to feel you.” 

A silence grew between us, so loud it felt suffocating. His lips parted as if he was going to speak, but nothing came out. I placed my hand over his, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. 

“Don’t tell me this is just going to be a onetime thing.” His voice quivered. 

“It won’t be…” my voice softly trailed off. I slipped my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, just as I knew he liked. “There’s always been something between us. I think you feel it too, Johnny.”

Always. Ever since he answered that ad. His smile always held something different behind it. His hugs seemed…too intimate for just friends. 

Maybe it was something I’d ignored, pushing aside the feelings that swelled every time he teased me. Swallowing the jealousy every time I saw him getting dressed to go out. Breathing out the relief when his relationships never seemed to stick. 

Something felt natural about him being half-naked in my bed. As if it all led up to this moment. It was destined to happen from the beginning. 

Dependable. That’s the word I’d use to describe him. Even if not physically there, he’d always answer his cell. Always send me photos of his escapades. Always on my mind. 

He exhaled a shaky breath, softening into my touch. I tugged him into another kiss, softer, yet more needy than the last one. With the last bit of his resolve chipped away, he melted into my arms, hands grasping every bit of flesh he could find. 

His fingers slipped beneath the band of my shorts, only to hang motionlessly. A silent question of consent. I lifted my hips, helping him ease the fabric over my hips. 

“Do you have lube?” He asked, tossing my shorts aside. 

“Nightstand.” 

He pulled open my nightstand drawer, shoving items to the side. I watched as he pulled out my vibrator. His lips curled up into a smirk, blue eyes locking on me. His other hand grabbed the bottle of lube. 

He didn’t bother closing the drawer, instead deciding to sit back on his shins. The cap clicked as he opened it. He spread a thin line of lube over the length of his fingers. I spread my legs for him, watching his teeth catch his bottom lip. 

“Fuck-” he grunted, bringing his fingers to my cunt. His fingertips skated up my core, bumping against my clit before sliding back down and circling my entrance. My brows furrowed as he pushed inside of me, slowly thrusting his digits in and out of me. 

The vibrator whirred to life. My hips jolted as he brought the toy to my clit, holding it still against my quivering cunt. I gritted my teeth, choking back an onslaught of moans. 

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers,” Johnny mumbled, curling his fingers ever so slightly. 

“Johnny-” I sputtered, gripping his arm. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes locked on my cunt. 

My stomach tensed. My breath came out as short, shallow huffs. His fingers, the vibrator, it was too much, and yet I needed more. I gently rocked my hips against the vibrator, seeking the sensation. 

“That’s it, take what you need,” he groaned. 

My eyelids grew heavy, vision going unfocused as I neared my climax. An icy cold sensation sparked in my toes, traveling up my quivering thighs. 

My lips parted in a silent scream as my eyelids fluttered closed. Static rushed through my muscles, consuming my burning limbs. I clenched around his fingers as I came. I cried out his name, hips jutting forward. 

He kept the vibrator flush to my clit. The sensation was too much. My cunt ached. Tears welled in my eyes. I pushed his hand away, babbling incoherently. 

“Fuck that was hot.” The buzzing abruptly stopped. With a soft thud he set the toy aside. He leaned forward, peppering my sweaty chest with kisses. 

“Johnny, take those joggers off.”

“Roger that,” he saluted, pushing the fabric down his hips. I pursed my lips, stifling the laugh that rose from my throat. His cock sprang free from its confines. A thin string of precum drooled from the tip of his cock. I opened the lube, squirting a dime of product into my palm. I took his cock in my hand, slowly stroking him. He groaned, hips bucking into my hand. 

I lined his cock up with my entrance and glanced up at the Scot. His hands cradled my hips as he pushed forward, nudging his cock inside me. I clenched my jaw as he slowly stretched me out. A dull cramping sparked in my hips as he inched his length inside of me. His jaw went slack, eyelids fluttering closed. 

A strained noise fell from my lips, pulling Johnny from his daze. His blue eyes flicked across my face, concern twinging in his brow. 

“You okay?” He asked, pressing soft kisses to my face. 

“Yeah, just hurts a little.” My voice came out as a squeak. He brought his hand to my cunt, thumb slowly circling my clit. His lips traveled down the length of my jaw and to my neck. 

“Doin’ so good for me. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

I felt my tense muscles softening at his words. I let my arms drape across his back, keeping him close to my sticky chest. I sighed as he bottomed out. 

His fingers kept working away at my clit, drawing short moans from me. I felt his cock twitch inside me. 

I felt full. Like the weight of his cock was compressing my lungs. His hand kept a gentle hold on my hip, thumb stroking my skin. I felt the tension in my thighs slowly give way. 

“You can move,” I mumbled next to his ear. I felt him smile against my skin, hips slowly pulling back. 

A moan slipped from my tongue. The way his cock dragged against my insides drew the breath from my lungs. I crossed my ankles behind his back, keeping him close as he thrust forward. 

The mattress squeaked beneath our sweaty bodies as he started a steady rhythm. My body jolted with every rut of his hips. A soft moan erupted from my burning lungs with every movement of his cock. 

His puffy lips met mine in a sloppy kiss. Drool ran down my face as I moaned into his mouth. He sped up, spurred on by the lewd noises falling from my tongue. His fingers dug into my flesh, pulling me against his hips with every thrust. 

I couldn’t breathe, the pleasure was suffocating, heavy on my chest. Every drag of his cock against my insides, every nip from his teeth. I craved it. Needed more. 

The slapping of skin against skin echoed through the room. He pulled back, gripping the headboard. His eyes never left my body. I felt my face heat up, watching him devour me with his gaze. He used the leverage to fuck deeper into me, cock head nudging against my cervix. 

“Johnny, I’m so close,” I whined. 

“So good f’me,” he stuttered, sweat beading from his brow. A long, drawn-out moan swelled in his chest. He looked down at me with unfocused eyes, chasing his own pleasure. 

My legs tensed, toes curling as my climax rushed through my body. My lungs stilled, thoughts growing fuzzy as I grew hypoxic. I dug my nails into his back, leaving red marks across his skin. 

My cunt seized around his cock, milking his orgasm out of him. I felt him twitch inside me as he flooded me with warmth. 

My breath returned, chest heaving with every panting gulp of air. He collapsed onto my chest, cock still twitching inside of me. 

When he pulled out, warmth ran down my inner thighs. I sighed, knowing I’d have to wash my sheets in the morning. He didn’t give me the chance to think, instead pulling me into his warm embrace, mumbling incoherently against my ear. I pressed my lips against his jaw, muttering softly against his skin. 

“I love you, Johnny.”

[paybackraid]

An Ice Cream and Fudge Kind of Chat

Summary: Jack might be a little confused, but he's got the spirit. In more ways than one. Or, Jack so aggressively supports Danny as a trans boy that he gives him the wrong sex talk. Mentioned grayghost

Rating: T

Words: 1994

Trigger warnings: none

---------

Danny walked into the kitchen to see his dad scooping copious amounts of ice cream into two bowls. A tray of fudge sat between them. Danny knew what was about to happen deep in his bones. His body went stiff and his insides felt cold, even for him.

Uh oh.

“Danny boy!” Jack cheered happily. He tossed the ice cream into the freezer and took a seat in front of one of the bowls. 

“…Awkward father-son chat?” Danny guessed, hoping against hope that wasn’t it.

Jack gave him a warm smile, softer. “Awkward father-son chat. Come sit.” He patted the empty chair beside him.

“…Do I have to?” Danny asked.

Jack didn’t verbally answer, merely patted the seat again. Danny got the picture.

With a heavy, nervous sigh, Danny moved forward. He adjusted his binder carefully, since it was pinching his underarm. He needed a new one, a bigger one. He’d grown. That comfortable, Danny dropped into the empty chair and picked up a piece of fudge. Peanut butter bacon. Delicious.

“So… what’s going on…?” Danny asked. Half of him hoped that Jack had forgotten all about Phantom and was about to confront him about it. That father-son chat—not the first one they’d had and obviously not the last—had gone almost remarkably well. It had ended with his dad scooping him in his arms and squeezing him so tight he thought he was going to break every rib. Danny had come out as half-dead and Phantom late last year, and it had gone so well that Danny was basically ready to do it again.  Better that than… whatever Jack had put together.

What else was left? The gay talk had come first, until Danny realized that it wasn’t the liking of the same gender that had been the problem rather than not being that gender, actually. Mom and Dad had handled both of them so well, even when Danny switched it up not three months later. There had been no you’re faking it, no you need to stop changing things on us. They’d taken each in stride. Next had come the bi talk when Danny realized that yes, boys were hot too, thank you. Dad had organized the next one, when he thought Danny had a girlfriend. When Danny almost did. Two years later and he finally had that girlfriend. And Valerie was a fucking treat. Finally came the whole half-ghost, being-Phantom awkward chat that had come up last year. That had gone well, obviously. Since Danny was still (half)alive, free, and very well.

If all those awkward father-son chats had been had, what was left? 

“It sounds like things are getting serious with you and Valerie,” Jack started, voice still warm. “I hope you’re not secretly spending the night at her house when you say you’re at Sam’s or Tucker’s.”

He had. Exactly once. To be fair, they had a project to work on, and there was a ghost fight and he’d come back so tired afterward. There’d been some kissing, some snuggling, but Danny had retreated to the couch like a right gentleman when the time came.

…Oh, wait.

Oh, no.

Danny was sure he wasn’t prepared for this sort of awkward father-son chat.

“I want you to know,” Jack continued. “Your mom and I really like this Valerie. She keeps you in line. Both of you.” Jack winked.

Danny winced. That was one way to put it. Him being a ghost and his girlfriend being a ghost hunter certainly did put a level of keep-in-line-liness into their relationship from both ends.

“And I’m glad you’ve gotten so comfortable with her, and with both of your halves. I’d be happy to see her over here more often. She’s someone I can blather on about ghosts to!”

He had. So many times. Valerie took it in stride. She really was an incredible girl.

“Okay…” Danny urged, face flushing red. He hoped Jack got to the point so this chat could be over. 

“Eat your ice cream before it melts,” Jack encouraged. He took a bite of his own and then snatched a piece of fudge. “All that being said, I expect responsibility from you.”

“Responsibility?” Danny didn’t think there were many kids his age more responsible than him, actually! Danny fought ghosts daily! He’d had the weight of the world on his shoulders since fourteen. He didn’t think there were many more responsibilities to have!

“Now,” Jack continued. “You are nearly an adult, and your mom and I can’t monitor you all the time. That wouldn’t be fair to you or to us. I would rather that you got up to the more adult things under our roof, where we know you’re safe and can help you handle whatever repercussions arise. So.” Jack reached for the seat beside him and grabbed two things. A banana and a… a… 

A condom?

Danny’s blush left completely. He was so pale his face felt like everice, staring at the horrible combination of items right there in front of him, grim horror and amusement dancing across his face hand in hand. Granted, his dad didn’t know that Valerie wasn’t a trans girl or otherwise, but… 

“I understand they’re teaching this in schools now,” Jack said, setting the banana between them, “and that’s great, but I want to know that you know how to use this anyway. If the two of you start having…” Jack practically gulped aloud, his face coloring, “if you start having sex, I expect you to use condoms every time, and I expect the two of you to have a conversation before and after. Fenton men are gentlemen.”

Danny smiled blearily. His dad was so fucking goofy, and maybe that was something Danny loved about him. “We drink respect women juice every day,” Danny agreed with a nod. It was an old joke, but a good one.

“What?”

He laughed. “Nevermind.”

“Right,” Jack said, plowing forward. “So show me you know how to use this.”

“Dad, me and Val really won’t need to use th—“

“Enough of your teenage invincibility,” Jack said. “You don’t know what could happen. Show me you know how to use this.”

Danny’s face went back to red, but he was struggling to hide his smile. It was embarrassing for sure, but if Danny understood exactly what was going on, it was nice. 

Knowing he wouldn’t get out of this, and kind of really loving his dad in the moment, Danny reached over and opened the condom. He rolled it over the banana like they’d shown in health class then set it over by Jack to inspect. Jack approved but asked suspiciously if they’d already started; Danny seemed pretty smiley for something like this.

Danny flat out denied it. There’d been some… under the clothes stuff, but nothing like that. 

“Good, that’s good,” Jack said, leaning back. His ice cream was mostly gone, but he was starting to stack fudge in his bowl. “But Danny, even condoms only work ninety-nine percent of the time. So when you do start having sex, you need to be prepared for… possibilities.”

“Dad, I really don’t think the possibilities you’re thinking of—“

“Danny,” Jack interrupted. “I expect responsibility from you. That doesn’t mean that Mom and I won’t help you out, of course not. But if you get that girl pregnant, you will be sticking around for it, whatever Valerie decides to do with it.”

And there it was. Pregnant.

Danny was not physically capable of getting anyone pregnant. He didn’t have the equipment, and he wasn’t sure that was a surgery he’d ever want to have, anyway. Dad knew that. Jack had taken Danny to pick up his first pads and tampons—they’d gotten so many sizes, it had not been handled as gracefully as Mom had handled Jazz’s. Hell, Jack had sat with Danny at the doctor’s office when they’d said words like puberty blockers and hormone replacement and address mental health first. Was Jack being goofy? He couldn’t entirely tell. Jack seemed far too serious to be playing some weird long con of a prank. It was too serious a topic for Jack to do that for, he hoped. 

“Danny-boy,” Jack said firmly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Do you understand me? You will support that girl if and until she aborts it, but if she decides to keep it, I expect you to be a present father, too. Am I clear? No skipping town because of it. Mom and I will help you.”

Jack was serious.

He was so, so serious, and Danny realized that he really, really, really loved his dad. 

Danny might try to get the real sex talk out of his mom, later on. The one he needed with his body. But he could sit here and be embarrassed while his dad plainly and actively forgot that Danny used to be his daughter, so long ago. 

“Yeah, Dad,” Danny said with a laugh and a smile. “I hear you. If something somehow happens, then I’ll be responsible with it. You can count on me.”

Jack’s smile was warm again, and so, so proud. Danny’s heart felt light in his ribcage, like it might turn intangible and phase right out of him. “I know that, Danny-boy. We can always count on you.”

The rest of the chat was, if a little awkward yet, smooth. Jack forgot three more times that Danny didn’t have the same stuff to do much with the talk, but Danny was kind of okay with it. By the time Jack seemed satisfied with the conversation, Danny’s grin split his face right down the middle even if he was red as a tomato. 

“And if you’ve got anything else you want-or-need to know about, you come right to your old man,” Jack was saying while Danny cleared their dishes from the table. “I’d rather you safe and embarrassed than sorry down the road.”

Another smile that Danny buried in his shoulder. “Yeah, okay,” he said, turning back to his dad. Jack was standing and stretching his back, muttering something about sitting for too long. “I will.”

“Good,” Jack huffed. He reached out and ruffled Danny’s hair. “See that you do. Got any questions for me right away?”

“No!” As much as Danny loved his dad—and he did, so much—there was only so much embarrassment he could handle before he had to close that particular spigot. “Thanks for the talk though, Dad. Thanks for caring.” Caring in more ways than one. Caring about Danny’s identity so much that he forced out of his brain any impression of Danny not being the man he was. 

“Of course, Danny-boy,” Jack chirped. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. He approached his dad and put his arms around his neck, squeezing him as tight as Jack would—and did. Although he was careful to avoid that poor, abused banana. “Yeah, I really, really love you, too.”

Jack released him after a moment and ruffled his hair again. With a farewell, Jack headed down the stairs to the basement—probably to tell Maddie just how well that talk had gone. Hopefully Maddie would correct him and fix his mistake later, but wouldn’t be upset. 

Danny decided to do the same, although upstairs to his sister and then to his room. Jazz laughed goodnaturedly and gave him a hug, but luckily didn’t make any promises about giving him the sex talk he was supposed to have. Danny flopped back onto his bed and quickly called up a conference call with Sam and Tucker, excitedly telling them about the horrible, wonderful conversation he’d just had. 

Valerie would come later, he thought. Probably after he’d had the talk with his mother. So Valerie wouldn’t have any thoughts that couldn’t go anywhere yet. She would find it funny, probably—she was as supportive as his family and friends—but he didn’t want to disappoint her. Not about that, anyway.

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader

Summary: Simon and his husband have a fight that makes (Y/N) leave in the middle of the night for a drive, unbeknownst to Simon he gets kidnapped along the way, as Simon rushes to save (Y/N) he discovers many hidden things about his husband that no one was supposed to know.

Disabled reader, wears a leg brace due to a work accident.

Warnings: Cod typical violence, reader with military past, miscomunication, kidnapping, skiing accidents.

word count: 2 K

+18 themes, minors do not interact

Simon placed his glass down harsher then he should, juice spilled over the edge of it. “I am not being reckless.” He said. 

(Y/N) glanced over from where he was cleaning up the kitchen, Simon had cooked so (Y/N) always insisted on cleaning, the other way around applied as well, one cooked one cleaned. 

“You were shot 3 times and are now on leave until you are good enough to go back, one of the bullets missed a main artery by a few millimeters.” (Y/N) didn’t bother hiding the clear anger in his voice. “I could have lost you, Simon.” 

Simon looked away. “I did what I had to, everyone got back safe.” 

“But you didn’t, you would go on the next mission right now if Price called you in, I made my peace with that, I will always wait and you know that but 3 bullets, Simon.” He said. 

Simon winced at the use of his name, (Y/N) rarely ever used his actual name over any shortened version of his name or pet name. “I get you are angry.” 

“Oh do you?” (Y/N) asked as he placed things away. “Because I recall you almost breaking your arm and being sent on forced leave by Price just last month because he was concerned about you.” 

“The mission-” “-wasn’t that bad, I get it, more than you realise. I-” (Y/N) interrupted only to get interrupted himself. “-You don’t know anything about being out in the field, you work a desk job because your youth was filled with spoiled trips to austria to ski in the mountains and you got too reckless as a young adult.” Simon said, not thinking about his words. 

(Y/N) looked down at his leg, the brace on it and how the injury still hurt, it wasn’t that story but not Simon nor Ghost would ever find out about the true reason for it, that mission was classified beyond anything most people would ever see, a mission gone right despite the casualties and soldiers who were forced to retire early, (Y/N) included. 

Seething hot anger flashed through (Y/N) but he took a breath. “I am going for a drive, we need milk.” (Y/N) didn’t look back, knowing Simon, his Simon was already regretting his words, this conversation or rather this fight was far too common for the both of them to have, everytime Simon came home with too bad of an injury or from being too reckless. Price always called him, always told him how the mission had gone.

(Y/N) grabbed his keys and jacket before getting into the car, pulling his injured leg in, it would never fully heal, it would always ache on good days and be too painful to even touch or look at on bad days. He had more bad days than good days. 

(Y/N) drove to the gas station across town, without really needing to, they didn’t even need milk but that was always the excuse, always the reason. (Y/N) usually made some kind of cake with it the next day, if he could walk. 

As (Y/N) excited the car and filled it up, a van pulled up besides his car, on the pump on the other side, he didn’t pay attention, simply finished pumping the gas before he looked to the side where a man was standing with a gun, pointed straight at him. (Y/N) scowled and held his hands up. “If you want my wallet I don’t have one, only my card.” 

“Get in the van, Mister Riley.” Simon and him had gotten married earlier in the year, something small at the courthouse. 

“No.” (Y/N) said as he knew he could take a bullet wound, not that he wanted to. It would drastically decrease his chances of survival. 

He felt a gun pointed at his back. “My partner didn’t say you had a choice.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, he couldn’t handle both with his leg after that drive, it would not end well, he would get killed, but going along with them would also get him hurt. He made a quick decision and nodded. “Alright, please don’t hurt me.” He whimpered, fully satisfied with how convincing it sounded. The men placed a hood over his face and cuffed his hands before putting him in the van and taking off. 

‘Okay, people taken to a secondary location always have a decreased chance of surviving, however they are most likely enemies of Simon who don’t know about me… Depending on how many there are I can get out… hopefully.’ (Y/N) thought as he started fake crying and whimpering, he needed to act scared even if he wasn’t being watched. 

Simon knew something was wrong when half an hour passed and (Y/N) hadn’t come back home, though for the sake of making sure, he waited 10 more minutes before calling his husband, no matter what, no matter how angry (Y/N) always answered, Simon never wanted his past or an enemy catching up again, he couldn’t handle losing more people. Not again, not like his family. 

When it kept ringing and went to voicemail, Simon cursed and called Price. It was picked up quickly. “Ghost, what the hell do you want it near midnight.” Price said. 

“(Y/N) isn’t answering the phone.” 

Price cursed on the other end. “How many minutes since you last saw him?” 

“40 but he should have been back between 10 and 20 minutes ago, we had a fight, Price, I… I was… I can’t…” 

“I know Simon, I will contact Laswall, see what we can do on our end, you can’t do much on your own, you are still injured, so stay steady and have your phone ready.” Price hung up. 

Simon just sat still for hours, staring at his phone before it rung, (Y/N)’s face and toothy smile showed up. Simon lunged at his phone and picked up. “(Y/N) I-” “-I am afraid this isn’t your husband.” A voice interrupted, someone Ghost was too familiar with. 

“What do you want?” Ghost asked. 

“I will send you my7 location where you will show up, alone and unarmed, if you get that pretty little team of yours involved I will slice your husband's throat and send you a video before letting the rats feed on his corpse.” The man said.

Ghost growled. “Fine.” He said. 

“Don’t do it Si!” Ghost could hear in the background of the call only for (Y/N) to cry out in pain. Simon’s blood ran cold as the call hung up. He just needed to get there. 20 minutes passed and he got a location, a factory a few hours out of town. He got into his car and took off, not even thinking to inform the team. 

His emotions were numb and he wasn’t wearing his mask, yet he kept going, he couldn’t stop, if there was ever even a chance of saving (Y/N), of not making the same mistake again, he would take it, he would always take it. Their fight played in his mind over and over again, torturing him as he drove, he vaguely registered the music in the radio as something upbeat. 

It was early morning when he came to the old factory, he vaguely registered the open door and vehicles parked outside as he walked straight up the door and inside, to his shock, bodies upon bodies of people laid spread out as though a fight had broken out, blood covered large areas of the factory floor. His blood turned ice cold as he ran inside, hoping to find (Y/N) alive only to find a chair with robe by the back, loosely tied together, whoever did this underestimated the prisoner. 

Simon pulled his phone out as it began vibrating. He answered. “Ghost here.” 

“... Ghost, come to base, (Y/N) is here… there is something you need to know. He is alive, injured but alive.” 

Simon let go of a deep breath. “I… how did he even get there… car probably, erm, I will get there.” The base was a few hours away. He hung up and drove in silence to the base, barely even registering anything. He was confused but also relieved, the only man he had ever loved enough to fully see Simon, to make Ghost into Simon again, had somehow escaped and was at his base, the base no one was supposed to know about. Things weren’t adding up. 

He drove onto base and got out, not remembering a mask, not even thinking about a goddamn mask. 

He walked past a confused Soap and Gaz, ignoring them gaping at them as he walked to Price’s office, knocking before he entered. In one of the chairs, a heavily beaten up and bruised (Y/N) sat and Price, with a dark look in his eyes, was sitting behind his desk. “I will let you talk.” Price said and left. 

Simon sat down and looked to (Y/N) who refused to meet his gaze. “What happened?” Simon asked. 

(Y/N) winced before looking ahead. “4 years ago I was in a skiing accident that left me paralysed in both my legs, it took me a year and experimental surgery to get feeling back in them though one is permanently broken.” (Y/N) began.

“Yes I know this..” Simon said. 

“It wasn’t hobby skiing. I was a soldier in a mission I can’t tell anyone about, not even my most trusted person, 2 teams of 20 people each, including a team of 3 were dispatched to take out a base of enemies that were holding high value targets.” (Y/N) didn’t look at Ghost. “Out of the 43 people, 10 of us made it out alive, the place was rigged with trap after trap, I was amongst the many injured on the way back, we successfully managed to get 4 out of 6 hostages with us.” 

“You were forced to retire.” Simon said and looked away. “Were you reckless?” 

(Y/N) shook his head. “No, I wasn’t, we were safe as we could be, yet I was paralysed, nearly died.” (Y/N) sighed. “I am sorry Si, for never saying this or telling you anything but I couldn’t, sure I could talk bootcamp and my various deployments but after I got onto a task force every single mission became confidential, much like your missions and then with my forced retirement, it just wasn’t something I looked back on with you. I lost a lot of good friends that week, a lot of really close allies. I had been out for a year and a half before we even met.” 

Simon looked away. “Was anything else right? Or has everything been a lie?” 

“You met my actual family, my mother does love you and even they don’t know much about my work, hell, they think after bootcamp and my deployments that I enlisted in a private security company in austria and on my off day, I got into an accident.” He said. “Except my cousin, she knows the truth because of her work.” 

“Right, the medic, understandable…” Simon said and looked to the man he once trusted above all else. Someone who had promised to be there for him always, no matter what. His whole perception of the man had been a lie. “You made me teach you self defence.” Simon mused. 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah… that day is among my fondest, you wanting me to be able to protect myself with you away, it did actually help last night.” (Y/N) said. “I wouldn’t have gotten out this lucky if it wasn’t for it… I am sorry for lying, Simon but you must understand, I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

Simon took his hand and gave him a small smile. “For better or for worse.” 

(Y/N) leaned over and kissed Simon's cheek. “Your captain is a real scary man.” He said and chuckled. “Laswell had to clear me for him, she found my discharge papers.” 

“Hmm, honourable discharge with a file that is mostly redacted.” Simon said. “Sounds like my future file.” 

“Well I do like the sound of that, planning for a future with me, eh?” (Y/N) said. 

Simon smiled a bit more. “You are the only reason I want to grow old.” 

(Y/N)’s smile softened. “I love you too, Si.”

[sillybucket]

“They won’t look at me” { Jonathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

I just love writing for this character , so I decided to make another little story featuring the Spot :D

As always I apologize for possible ooc moments , and if someone already wrote about something similar know that it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : there is some angst in this one … basically , Johnathan and the reader have a talk with his parents some time after his transformation , and unfortunately it doesn’t go well for the poor guy ;(

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

The room was alarmingly quiet , the sound of the clock on the wall and the traffic outside were the only things that interrupted the silence as the four people in the kitchen sat in front of each other …

The tension was palpable , Jonathan could feel the judgmental , baffled looks his parents occasionally gave him , and when (y/n) held his hand to comfort him he looked back at them with genuine gratitude before taking a deep breath .

“So uh … mom , dad , how have you been doing ?”

, he timidly asked , desperate to end that suffocating silence in some way .

“Business has been going well . My technological inventions are on high demand , so that’s something .”

Jonathan’s father averted his eyes from his son while answering his question , almost like he just couldn’t handle to look at his face …

“If that’s all you wanted to know you might as well leave now , we’re both busy and really don’t have any time to lose .”

Jonathan let out a sigh , trying to get his thoughts in order while (y/n) stared at his dad in disbelief :

he couldn’t be serious … sure , Lucas Ohnn was a very important scientist with a reputation to protect , but treating a member of his own family in such a cold , distant way simply because he looked different was simply unacceptable .

“I … just wanted to pass by to see if you were okay , and to let you know that you don’t have to worry about me : it hasn’t been easy , but I’ve been doing my best to rebuild my life after … after all that’s happened . Also I wanted to introduce you to my partn -“

“Mhm , that’s great Johnny … are you sure nobody saw you enter our house ?”

, Miss Ohnn asked , without even looking up from her phone .

“You’re right , Carol . What will the neighbors think if they see … that … inside our property ? They might start to think that we’re giving shelter to some strange creature , and that would be inconvenient …”

After hearing those words (y/n) stood up , unable to listen any further …

“Strange creature ? Are you serious ? That’s your son , Mister Ohnn ! You used to talk to him just a few months ago , you said you were proud of him for all his hard work at Alchemax and now you have the audacity to say something like that ? Right in front of him ?”

Everyone in the room now had their eyes pointed at them as they continued talking .

“This the same Jonathan you used to know , and just because his appearance changed you can’t just treat him like th -“

“(Y/n) , it’s okay …”

Jonathan had gotten up as well , gently putting his hand on their shoulder .

“Let’s just go .”

The two of them slowly headed towards the door , and before leaving he turned back to look at his parents one last time …

“Bye mom , bye dad … don’t worry , you won’t see me again .”

The late afternoon sun was starting to set as the two of them walked hand in hand back to (y/n)’s apartment .

“I’m sorry , I shouldn’t have reacted like that … it’s just - what your dad said … I couldn’t tolerate the way he was talking to you .”

Jonathan smiled softly to himself , squeezing their hand a little .

“There’s nothing to apologize for , honey … you’re always looking out for me , and I love you so much for that .

They were probably going to make us leave soon anyway .”

He then let out a sigh , his voice trembling slightly as he tried to go on …

“… I knew that this would end this way , that my parents weren’t going to accept that this is who I am now … but it just kinda hurt , y’know ?

They’re the only family I have left and they couldn’t even look at me for more than a few seconds .

I really do mean nothing to them …”

(Y/n) quietly listened to him , and when they finally stopped after reaching the apartment’s door they wrapped their arms around him , holding him in a loving hug .

“Well … you mean everything to me , Johnny . No matter what your parents think you’re definitely still someone worth loving , and believe me when I say that my life wouldn’t be the same without you in it .”

They looked up at him , gently caressing his cheek .

Jonathan wanted to say so many things in that moment … how much he appreciated them , how happy he was to have them in his life …

His arms surrounded their waist while he placed his forehead against theirs .

“God , I really don’t know what I’d do without you (y/n) …”

, he whispered , genuine adoration in his voice as he got lost into his partner’s beautiful eyes .

The two of them stood there for a few minutes , enjoying each other’s comforting warmth until finally (y/n) took out their house keys from their pocket and opened the door :

after such a stressful afternoon , all that Jonathan and (y/n) wanted to do was just lie down somewhere comfortable and rest in each other’s arms , forgetting about all their worries .

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little story until the end ! :D

Feel free to leave some feedback if you want to :) ❤️

[notenoughpixel]

The sun gently rose up and peered through the gaps in-between the abandoned buildings, casting rays of sunlight on the snow covered planet. Everything was nice and calm and-

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

The alarm blared through Wren's auditory sensors causing her to jump as she woke up.

“Ughhh” She groaned,

It was the first day back after the summer holidays and Wren was not ready for it.

Patting the area around the side of her bed looking for the alarm before grabbing it and slamming it against the side table with the alarm finally switching off. She pushed her hand through the front of her tangled hair before gently squeezing it and sighing.

She stood up from her bed and grabbed her clothes that were lazily thrown onto an armchair yesterday and laid them on the bed before changing into them. It was just a basic off the shoulder black jumper with a ribcage design, some weird gothic cargo shorts thing and a grey beanie. Before she put on her beanie, she brushed her hair so it looked somewhat reasonable and nice. She then finally put on her beanie and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

No lights were on in the living room that was also conjoined with the kitchen. It was quiet with not even a robo-roach squeaking.

“She normally is awake by now..”

“I'll go check her room..” Wren muttered to herself.

Just as she turned and was about to head to check if V was still sleeping, she saw a note on the table. Quickly picking up, it read,

‘PS:

I might be late coming home as food sources are getting harder and harder to find by the passing day and we aren't allowed to kill workers (which I am trying really hard not to do). I found a small canister of oil yesterday and left it on the table for your lunch.

V’

Right… Of course. Wren forgot about the shortages of oil lately and how V was trying desperately not to kill any workers but it was getting harder and she's been close to overheating several times by now.

“It's my fault.. If I wasn't here, less oil would be used”

Those words have been in her head for a while now. Is it really her fault..?

But she had no time to ponder about things like that as she had less than five minutes to get to school. She grabbed the oil can and put it in a small plastic bag before putting that in her school bag and heading out the door with her phone in hand.

When she had gotten to the school after practically running, she saw two familiar faces. Ones she did not want to see on a Monday morning right after summer break.

Monica Wood, The queen of highschool, head cheerleader, the almighty bitch

And

Onix Rodgers, The king of sports and… uh.. He's rich! I think….

(Ehm, let's get back on track)

The two are the unstoppable couple and the rudest people you will ever meet.

“Omg! Hii Wren~!” Monica said mockingly, giggling to herself.

“Yeah uh hi..” Replied Wren, walking past the two. Trying not to make any eye contact.

Wren didn't have many friends as most either thought she was weird or was scared of her. The only real friend she has was Olivia Jones who had gone missing during the summer and presumed dead so I guess actually she didn't have any friends.

Olivia was nice and also didn't fit in, just like Wren. She spent most of her time in the library. Wren didn't read much before but Olivia got her into reading. She would bleather to Wren about the books she was reading along with many random facts she knew, as Wren was the only person who listened. Like one time when she rambled on about different dog breeds.

“Did you know golden retrievers have gentle mouths and are very loyal to their owners? That's why they're good with kids!”

…

It was hard to believe for Wren that she would never hear that voice again… That she would never see her again or sit in the library for hours with her again and that she's back to having to deal with sitting alone at lunch once again…

RING RING RING!

Wren once again got lost in her own thoughts and forgot the time. She really rushed to her reg class and sat down. Everyone being already there. She sat in the one available seat that was left and waited for her name to be called.

Next to her was Mia Grant. She was a newer student, having only joined the school a year ago after moving from Outpost 8 to here for unknown reasons. Wren never got to know her as she wasn't in any of her classes last year and looked to be one of those popular girls. Always dressed up beautifully and nicely with neat, shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. Her green eye lights shining majestically. She was a goddess and-

“Wren Doorman?”

“Here Miss..”

The bell rang and it was time for the first class… Art.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 30/?

Prev | Next

Avril is back, and she's here to make Jason angry.

Jason took out the chocolate chip scones from the oven. He used Alfred’s recipe, so he knew they would be a big hit. They were flaky on the outside and soft and moist on the inside.

The first PTA meeting had come and gone. They were going to do a fundraiser and auction to help raise money to get the school more books, new computers, and better instruments for the kids. Jason signed up to make the scones.

He missed Alfie, and this was a way to have his grandfather close to him.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief when the last batch was on the cooling rack. He had been up since five in the morning making a hundred and fifty scones. Hopefully, they would sell. If not, he could donate what didn’t.

He sat down and let his head fall on the table.

“You’re done?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah,” he said without raising his head. Jazz had volunteered to drop off Danny and pick him up. She was also going to watch him while he was at the fundraiser.

Jazz hummed and then put something by him. He raised his head to find a glass of iced tea. He drank it happily.

“I met your friend Avril. She’s quite the character.”

Jason frowned at the mention of the blonde woman. She had tried to humiliate Jason in the first PTA meeting. When he had signed up for the fundraiser, and she saw he had put down scones, she laughed at his face and point blank told him that the fundraiser bakery had to be done by the parents, not store-bought. Jason had to sell more than her. For the kids, of course.

“She’s not my friend,” he muttered.

Jazz hummed and looked at Jason with knowing eyes. Why did he feel he was being dissected all of a sudden?

“Don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth it. People like her need to find victims to feel better. It’s best to ignore them.”

Jason said nothing. He refused to be anyone’s victim. Not again. Especially a PTA mom.

“Don’t let her get under your skin, Jason.”

Danny ran into the kitchen before Jason could say anything.

“Those smell good, daddy. Can I have one?”

“Not those, chum, they’re for the PTA fundraiser. I made some earlier just for us.”

Jason got a bowl covered with a cloth from the top of the fridge and put it in front of his vibrating son. Danny struck like a snake, getting a scone and stuffing it in his face.

“Wowb, dabby, dese are sooo good.”

“Danny, don’t eat with your mouth full,” Jazz scolded the little boy, “you can choke.”

“You like them, Danny?”

Danny nodded as he got another one. Jason couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he should bake more often. His little boy seemed to like the scones. Why not make other things Alfred had taught him?

Well, thoughts for another day.

Jason packed the scones in boxes he bought and put them in his car. He kissed Danny goodbye and waved at Jazz.

“Thanks for watching Danny for me. I’ll be back by ten, I hope.”

“No problem, Jay. He’s my little brother, after all. Don’t let her get to you, and keep a cool head!”

Jason pouted at Jazz’s remark. So what if when he got angry, things tended to smoke? He’d gotten a better handle on his fire powers thanks to Raven’s tips on handling his emotions.

“Bye, daddy, love you!”

Jason smiled at his son, “Love you, too, chum.”

Jason made it to school in record time. He looked for his table and noticed it was the farthest from the entrance. He frowned, likely a ploy from Avril. He refused to let that get to him, though, and he started setting things up.

Then, the she-devil herself entered the room.

“Just set the baskets down here,” she told some guys carrying ribbed baskets, and Jason could see red gingham peeking out. He decided to ignore her and went back to setting up his table.

Jason ignored the chatter going on around him.

Ever since his transformation, his hearing had gotten better, and he could listen to every conversation if he wanted to. It had taken a while to learn to control the volume. He was vaguely listening toward Avril’s table when he heard ‘blueberry scones.’

“It’s a recipe that has been handed down for generations now,” she bragged.

He looked up, and lo and behold, she had, indeed, brought scones. Avril looked straight into his eyes and smiled at him.

Jason felt heat rising from his chest to his face. He glared at the woman’s table, wishing he could burn it to the ground. Smoke started rising from her tablecloth. Jason looked away and took deep breaths. No, he couldn’t burn down the school just because Avril was being a bitch. Thankfully, nobody had noticed the smoke.

Jason took a look again and saw her scones. They didn’t look good.

They were dense and heavy. From where he stood, he noticed the lack of color on them. She must’ve not used cold ingredients, either, because they weren’t flaky at all. He looked down at his and smirked. Avril had wanted to humiliate Jason.

Instead, the opposite happened.

Jason watched throughout the evening as Avril’s smug smile fell. People could see her scones weren’t good, and very few bought them. Jason’s scones sold quickly.

People had come back with family or friends to buy more. In the end, he had run out of scones while Avril still had most of hers in the baskets. Some people had even asked Jason if he baked to sell.

“Unfortunately, no, I don’t.”

“That’s too bad,” a black-haired woman said, disappointed, “I would’ve ordered scones from you for parties I throw.”

Jason laughed. No way was he going to do that. He was exhausted just doing it one day. He couldn’t imagine doing it for a living. (It’s not as if he needed the money, anyway.)

Jason could feel Avril’s glare as he cleared his table. He couldn’t help but throw a smug smirk. That’s what she gets.

Jason spent the rest of the evening walking around before the auction started. He even bought some pastries and little snacks. He was munching on a pretzel when they started announcing the auction.

Jason took a number. He doubted anything would get his attention, but he never knew. He took the list and quickly browsed through it. A romantic package for two, a golf package, a parent getaway package (no way he would ever leave his little boy behind). So far, the list had yet to get his attention.

Hmm, a guitar would be nice to have. Maybe he could pick another hobby.

“I want to thank all the parents who participated in our fundraiser with their baked goods. Special thanks to Avril Dubois for helping us set all this up.”

Jason rolled his eyes as the woman stood up at the applause. Desperate much?

“Now, let’s get on with the auction. Our first item up is the romantic package for two.”

Jason was bored throughout the auction. How had Bruce put up with stuff like this? He halfheartedly bid for the guitar but let the balding guy have it instead. It looked like he needed a win.

Jason was about to leave when the next item came up.

“Our next item is two benches dedicated to the highest bidder. These benches will be made of oak wood and put in the front of the school. Bidding starts at two thousand dollars.”

Avril immediately put up her number.

“Two thousand five hundred.”

Nobody else raised their number. Well, it was pricey—for other people. Jason smiled evilly. Oh, he was about to ruin Avril’s evening even more.

“Three thousand,” he said.

Avril looked back and glared at him. He smirked at her.

“Three thousand five hundred,” she countered.

“Four thousand five hundred.”

She didn’t look back, but Jason saw her back stiffen.

“Five thousand.”

“Five thousand five hundred,” Jason said.

“Well,” the auctioneer said, “it seems we have a bidding war.”

“Ten thousand,” Avril said. She looked back at Jason and smirked. Oh, was that it?

“Fifteen thousand,” Jason countered with an evil smile thrown at the woman. She scoffed and didn’t raise the bid again.

“Fifteen thousand going once, going twice. Sold! To number 34.”

Jason didn’t care about having something under his (fake) name, but by the Ancients, it was nice to see Avril lose.

It was worth it, even as Jazz scolded him for letting Avril get under his skin.

Thanks to this chapter, I now know how to (theoretically) make the perfect scone. Alfred would be proud of Jason's pettiness.

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