#all the shows I’ve done before have been ‘ya show up you’re cast’ and this one wasn’t and I did not. get in

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

yea hold on a second *walks out of the room and a second later you hear a gun go off* *walks back in with a hole in my chest* anyway! you were saying?

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: On your fifth birthday, the world fell apart, and survival became the only thing that mattered. That day, your dad saved you from more than just the chaos outside—he protected you from a truth you weren’t ready to face, even as it shattered the life you once knew.

warnings: parent death

It’s funny–even now, after all this time, you can still remember that day vividly. The day fungus infiltrated every corner of your life. But you do still have faint memories of before, too. Like static while turning for a radio station. They came and went as time passed, flickers of things, but never as vivid as the life after the outbreak. Memories of the TV blaring Sunday football, cookouts with the neighbors, your mom brushing your hair before school were the most foggy, but they were still there. Back then, you never realized how much you’d taken those things for granted. But how could you know? You were only a kid.

It was your fifth birthday when everything changed. That’s the day you found your mom too—the same day the military rolled into your small town, scooping up survivors and making promises of safety in quarantine zones, military aid, and FEDRA housing. News had been broadcasting for weeks about these safety zones, but even at five years old, you didn’t buy it. Maybe you were too much like your dad even then. Luckily, you’d been at his house that weekend–mom and dad had been divorced for years by then, though she still lived nearby. You were out back, dad grilling burgers just for the two of you, with ice cream cake waiting in the fridge. You can still smell those burgers—he had this way of getting the perfect char, never overdone but always juicy and mouthwatering.

There had been a lot of sirens that day, but if your dad was worried, he didn’t show it. He was tough as nails—always had been. When the military trucks started rolling through the neighborhood, though, he scooped you up and hurried you into the bunker beneath the house. The blue emergency lights flickered on, casting everything—the wall of guns, the bookshelves of survival guides, pickling recipes, and how-to’s—in cold, sterile light.

“Daddy, what’s—” you’d started to ask, but he pressed a finger to his lips, guiding you further into the cellar. He settled into his big, well-worn security chair, just as the sound of boots thundered above you. He watched the security footage from the cameras that could see the perimeter of your home, his eyes casting around at the screens, watching the men in uniform enter the house. You held your breath as his hand tightened around yours. Then, for a moment, he stared up at the ceiling as if he could see through it, tracking their movements as they stomped room to room.

Little did they know about the underground bunker your dad had built years before you were even born. Deep, below the basement, where no one would think to check. Your mom used to say he’d done it because you were born, that he became obsessed with the end of the world, and he’d needed a plan to protect you when it all inevitably went to hell. 

She called him crazy for it.

But that day, his paranoia saved you.

As the boots overhead began to fade, he finally muttered, “Not today, you New World Order jackboot fucks.”

“Daddy!” you giggled, both at the words and the fire in his voice.

He turned to you, smiling faintly as he grabbed a shotgun off the wall. Strapping on a PPE helmet with a face shield, he knelt down and said, “Don’t you worry, honey, I’ve been expectin’ this for a long damn time.” his voice echoed on the plastic between you, “Daddy’s got ya. Stay here for a minute, alright?”

When you nodded, he made his way up to the basement floor, and you could hear his quiet footsteps through the house, tiptoeing around. When you’re young, seconds felt like an eternity, and minutes were like a lifetime. The sound of his steps disappeared altogether and you sat there, fidgeting, your heart pounding in your chest. The flickering blue emergency lights painted eerie shadows across the bunker walls.

You tried to wait like he’d told you, gripping your knees and staring at the screens showing the empty house above. But the silence was unbearable. What if something happened to him? What if the men in uniforms came back?

Your eyes darted to the wall of guns. They looked huge, intimidating—and heavy. But your dad always said you had to be ready when the world went to hell, didn’t he? You stood up, wobbling a little as your nerves got the better of you, and reached for the smallest gun you could see. Even that one felt like a boulder in your hands, but you managed to yank it off its hooks.

The weight made you stumble backward, but you caught yourself, clutching the weapon tightly. "Okay," you whispered to yourself, channeling every ounce of courage you could muster. "Be brave.”

You pushed open the heavy bunker door, the cold metal scraping against the concrete floor. Step by step, you climbed the narrow staircase, the gun heavier with each step. By the time you reached the top, your arms were shaking, but you didn’t stop.

The house was eerily quiet, every sound amplified—the creak of the floorboards under your feet, your heavy, nervous breathing. You crept through the kitchen, gripping the gun like you’d seen in the movies.

When you turned the corner into the living room, you froze. Your dad was standing there, his face a mix of surprise and anger as he stared at you.

"What the hell’re you doin’, girl?" he asked harshly, crossing the room in two quick strides. His voice wasn’t loud, but the tension in it was impossible to miss.

“I—I came to help,” you stammered, holding up the gun like it was a trophy. Your arms trembled under its weight.

He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Help? Jesus, kid. That thing isn’t even loaded,” he said, taking the gun from your hands with ease. “You could’ve hurt yourself, lugging this around.”

“But I was scared!” you blurted, tears welling up in your eyes.

His shoulders softened, and he crouched down to your level, setting the gun aside. His neat beard ticked as he lowered his voice to be gentle, “I know, hunny. I get it. But I told you to stay put, didn’t I?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“I can’t keep you safe if you don’t listen to me. You’re all I got left right now, understand?”

You nodded again, biting your lip to keep from crying harder.

His hands found your arms, giving you a quick squeeze in his large hands, then stood up, grabbing the gun he’d set down. “C’mon, then. We’re gonna go see if your mom’s still home or if she went with those government assholes. She knew about the bunker, so maybe she waited me out. But you stay right next to me, ya hear? No runnin’ off, no playin’ hero. Deal?”

“Deal,” you whispered.

“Good. Now let’s get movin’.” He cocked the gun and tipped his head toward the door, his tone firm but not unkind. “Stay close, and don’t make a sound.”

You followed him out of the house, your little hand clutching his shirt as tightly as you could, determined not to let go this time.

The neighborhood was unnervingly quiet as you and your dad climbed into his old blue truck. The engine rumbled to life, a low growl that seemed too loud for the silence surrounding you. You clutched the seatbelt across your chest, staring out the window as the houses you knew so well rolled past, each one darker and emptier than you remembered.

Your dad didn’t say much, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Every so often, his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror or the road behind, as if he expected someone—or something—to follow.

The air felt heavy, and the only sound besides the truck was the faint hum of distant sirens, carried on the wind moving further and further away. You wanted to ask if he really thought your mom would be okay, but the words kept getting caught in your throat.

When you finally reached her street, it looked exactly the same, like any other day. But knowing the houses sat there, just hollow shells with neatly trimmed lawns still pristine with blossoming gardens was enough to bring goosebumps to your skin. The truck slowed to a crawl, your dad squinting out the window as if he was searching for something—anything.

He pulled into the driveway, and you could see the front door was open, the storm door the only barrier of the threshold. So maybe she was still home. You rolled down your window, leaning out as far as your little body allowed, hands gripping the edge of the glass.

“Mommy!” you shouted, excitement bubbling in your voice.

But just as the word left your lips, you felt a hand clamp down on the back of your shirt, yanking you back into the truck. You suddenly heard your dad screaming your name: “Get down, dammit!”

“But if she’s—”

“We don’t know if she’s in there. We need to stay quiet, and you’re going to stay here,” he said firmly, his voice low but sharp as he turned to you, a finger pointed harshly at the seat next to him.

“But—”

“No buts,” he cut you off, his tone furious and unyielding, but then he lowered his voice, “I mean it this time. You don’t move from this seat. Understand?”

You nodded reluctantly, your stomach churning with unease.

The thing was, he hadn’t even needed to get out of the vehicle to see if she was home. Because from inside the house, someone—or rather, something —had heard you.

Your mother…what was your mother, now twisted into something monstrous, burst out of the storm door. She was covered in grotesque, swollen fungal growths that bulged from her face and arms like spongy mushrooms trying to break free. Her screams—god, it was still her voice—pierced the air, raw and filled with pain.

“Mommy?” you whispered, frozen in disbelief.

You watched as she barreled to the front door, her movements jerky and unnatural, as though her body no longer obeyed her. When her wild eyes spotted you and your dad in the truck, she charged. The storm door flew off its hinges as she hurled herself into the front yard, her body slamming against the passenger-side window of the truck.

You screamed as her twisted, red and yellow fungus-covered face pressed up against the glass, her hands clawing and smearing bloody streaks. The sickening sound of her infected screeches filled your ears, and you fell back into your dad’s lap, trembling and sobbing.

At the suddenness of your fall, he snapped out of his horrified trance, slamming the truck into reverse. The tires screeched as the truck lurched backward, your mother’s hands scraping against the doorframe until she lost her grip and tumbled to the ground.

He slammed the brakes, grabbed his shotgun, and rolled down the driver’s window.

“Daddy, no!” you screamed, trying to climb over him to stop him. “Don’t hurt her! DON’T HURT MOMMY! ”

“That’s not mommy anymore,” he said quietly, his voice trembling but firm.

She rose to her feet with inhuman speed, her limbs flailing wildly as she lunged down the driveway toward the truck. His hands steadied the shotgun, his jaw clenched.

“ No! ” you wailed, clawing at his arm, but he didn’t flinch.

As she reached the edge of the driveway, he pulled the trigger. The shotgun roared, and the recoil sent you sprawling back onto the bench seat.

You sat there, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you stared out the window. The world seemed to tilt sideways as you took in the sight. Your mom— your mom —lay crumpled on the pavement, blood pooling around her still body. The red stain trickled down toward the sewer drain at the bottom of the driveway.

Before he could stop you, you shoved the door open and bolted from the truck. You heard him yell your name, felt his hand swipe at your arm, but you were too quick.

“Get back here!”

You dropped to your knees beside her, your little hands reaching out hesitantly. Her eyes stared blankly up at the sky, her body still twitching slightly as the fungal infection spasmed through her.

“She’s… she’s still moving,” you whimpered, tears streaking your face.

Your dad was there in an instant, pulling you back roughly. “Don’t touch her!”

“But—”

“No!” he snapped, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you lightly to snap you out of it. His voice softened, but the edge of urgency remained. “She’s gone, kid. That wasn’t her. You hear me? That wasn’t your mom anymore.”

You sobbed, shaking your head, but he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as you cried into his chest.

When you finally pulled away, his face was pale but resolute. “We have to be strong now,” he said, his voice low and steady. “These things—they’re not people anymore. They’re dangerous. And if we’re gonna live here, we need to keep this place safe. For us. That’s what she would’ve wanted.”

You sniffled, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for some kind of understanding.

You nodded slowly, though the ache in your heart didn’t lessen.

“Good,” he said, standing and adjusting the shotgun over his shoulder. “C’mon. We’ve got work to do.”

As he led you back to the truck, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, your mom’s lifeless body a haunting picture of the world you now lived in.

[junkpuppet225]

Heads up, not a Daryl X Reader (because I like to name my OC’s (although I’m not feeling this one’s name (no offense if it’s your name - it’s a great name just doesn’t flow well with Daryl for me) I can’t think of a better one atm) and I like them blonde. Daryl has a type y’all.) Also major spoilers for the series starting now! This is just something that came to me during my rewatch. (I’ve almost made it to the end again. Man these last few seasons are ROUGH.) If you read it let me know what you think and if I should continue and make it into a full blown fanfic.

Notes: Starts out Season 11 Episode 4. Daryl and Leah reunite but thanks to the wonders of fan fiction I can do whatever I want and he never went back for her in Find Me. Sorry girl, ya just weren’t the one. After Leah finds out about Turner she let’s Lacey go, she finds her way back to Maggie and the story plays out like it did on the show until Episode 9 where Daryl’s trying to get back to Maggie. That’s where I’ll start it back up one day. Lemme know what ya think! 🥰

Summary: Daryl met Lacey the night he came to Hilltop after being Negan’s prisoner and they became friends which quickly turned into something more for both of them. Then Rick “died” and Daryl left. This is how they piece back together what they once had. Enjoy!

xxx

Piece by Piece

Lacey

“Let ‘er go and I’ll tell ya whatever ya wanna hear.” Daryl mutters keeping his eyes cast down as Leah glares at him from the other side of the cell bars. Across the hallway I’m trying to push myself up from the concrete, soaking wet and gasping for air.

I’ve never been water boarded before. Check that one off the bucket list.

“You know her.” Leah says with pain in her voice. “You care about her.”

“I done told you - I ain’t with them. She ain’t either. You’re torturin’ an innocent girl, for nothin’, - that ain’t you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Leah snaps and crosses the hall jerking open my unlocked cell door to grab me by my wet hair - forcing my face up to Daryl’s. I close my eyes tightly and will away the tears threatening to fall. “You know him!” She screams as I shake my head no while more water rushes from my drowned lungs. “You’re with the group on the road - both of you! Tell me where they are!”

Call it star-crossed ingenuity or just plain luck but somehow Daryl and I have managed to give this psycho bitch the same story without even speaking to each other. We don’t know each other and we sure as hell don’t know anything about Maggie. Just two assholes with a serious case of wrong place wrong time. My heart is racing in my chest… probably from the water boarding but I like to think it has something to do with how in-tuned Daryl and I are even after all these years.

Leah’s not buying it though and socks me across the jaw to assure everyone in the dimly lit room just that. “Didn’t peg you for a desperate bitch.” Daryl mutters - oozing nonchalance as I spit out a mouthful of blood just to have my captor slug me again. You can stop talking anytime now Dixon.

X

Seeing Daryl for the first time would be a memory etched into my very core until my dying day, blue eyes lingering far to long at the battered and broken man dragging his feet behind Jesus as they push their way into Hilltop’s infirmary. The haunted look in Daryl’s gaze still keeps me lying awake to this day because even after all this time - it’s still there. I don’t catch it as often now - he’s allowed himself to heal over the years - barely, but that first night in Hilltops infirmary as I cleaned him up and dressed his wounds I thought there was nothing left of the man sitting before me.

“Daryl, whatever happened - with Negan? It’s not your fault. I just want you to hear that from someone who wasn’t there. Okay?”

Daryl only grunted his responses for the first four days at Hilltop so we sat in silence and I watched him - the way his body would jerk violently in his sleep, the absolute grief that washed over him at the most random times and the tremble of his hands as he clutched his fingers together to try and will it away.

The first time he spoke to me I knew his was the only voice I would ever long for.

“Don’t need yer sympathy. Don’t deserve it.”

I remember being so surprised by hearing his deep voice that it took me a solid minute to register his words - watching him stare down at the deep groves in the worn wood of the picnic table outside the infirmary. Gregory never came down this far - he’d never burden himself with checking on the sick or injured so this was where Daryl stayed - to keep away from our loud mouthed leader. To be alone with his thoughts.

“Concern and sympathy aren’t the same thing.”

Then he was back to grunting. Eventually time heals wounds…, or at least allows us to learn how to better hide the pain. The first time I heard Daryl laugh? The way his breath hitched in his throat and the smile that spread across his face? That night sealed my fate.

I kissed him because I’d still be waiting for him to make the first move if I hadn’t but when he kissed me back I saw stars. The way his rough hands sank into my hair and his body pressed to mine. The gasps that rushed from my lips while he fucked me into oblivion. Behind closed doors Daryl treated me like I was the absolute center of his world - kissed me like his very life depended on it - he even told me he loved me once, whispered softly against my throat in the darkness.

I would have followed Daryl to hell and back except hell found us and we never left. Rick died and Daryl couldn’t accept it.

“I let two fuckin’ brothers die on MY watch! I can’t…, I can’t fuckin’ sit here and play house with you Lacey. I belong out there.” The grief that clung to his words still haunts me to this day. “Then take me with you.”

The last time I heard Daryl laugh it broke my heart.

“Nah. Girl like you? Don’t belong out there. Ya don’t belong with me.”

I watched with tears in my eyes as he loaded his gear and left Hilltop in search of Rick without even saying goodbye. When he’d ride in from time to time to visit Judith and RJ or to trade with the communities he never spoke to me, never lifted his head in my direction and when Maggie said she was leaving Hilltop a few years later - I went with her.

X

Daryl

“Leah. Listen to me, this ain’t you. She’s just someone they met on the road - same as me. I watched ‘em from the tree line, watched ‘em trade her some food for half her medical supplies. That’s the reason I showed myself to ‘em. I was starving.”

“Why didn’t you just take what they had? I’ve seen you fight a field of walkers!”

I lift my eyes to hers slowly. Whoever Leah was back in that cabin in the woods six years ago is not the woman standing before me today. “‘Cause that ain’t me an’ you know it.” I watch Leah drop Lacey to the ground with a frustrated growl as the smaller woman continues to pull air into her ruined lungs. Seeing her like this - knowing what the fuck they’ve done to her has my insides humming with rage but I can’t blow our cover. She probably hates my guts and she hasn’t blown mine. “Let her go and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want Leah. I’ll go hunt these fuckin’ people down myself.”

“You care about her.”

This is one of the reasons I’ve kept to myself all these years. Fucking women. We all have one mutual enemy in this world - the dead trying to kill us yet I’m sitting here arguing with a fucking psycho ex girlfriend.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya? I don’t fucking know her! All I’ve ever heard her talk about is the kid she lost. Says she buries all the kid walkers she comes across because of it. S’a fuckin’ waste’a time.”

Leah’s eyes go wide and I know I’ve hit my mark.

When I first met Lacey I didn’t even know she was in the room with me until she brushed her fingers through my disgusting hair trying to access the damage to my face as I flinched away from her touch. That first night at Hilltop I kept zoning out, kept getting lost in my fucking head to the point Lacey had to softly remind me to breathe until I finally passed out from exhaustion.

She was the first person I ever met that didn’t try to pry all of my secrets from me at once. She let me sit with my thoughts in silence until I couldn’t take her troubled gaze anymore. It wasn’t sympathy in her pale blue eyes - it was something much worse. Concern. Like she really gave a shit about someone like me.

The first time I spoke to her I wasn’t kind. I didn’t thank her for all the hours she spent physically putting me back together. I told her I didn’t deserve her sympathy - knowing she offered none - but her concern for me made her cross that small trailer when I woke up screaming later that night. I could have really hurt her, could have fucking killed her the way I grabbed her as she placed a small hand on my chest to rouse me from yet another nightmare but her soft voice soothed me out of my terror and she never mentioned the pain I know I caused her.

It took a long time for me to even get back to half the man I was before we met Negan and that’s not saying much cause I was pretty fucking lost way before that but it was months after Negan was locked up in Alexandria that I allowed myself to relax. I wouldn’t even use the word allowed. It’s just something that happened. I was so fucking exhausted from all of it that when I stumbled down the stairs after a hot shower and found Lacey sitting alone at the kitchen table I let her kiss me. The things she let me do to her after that will forever be etched in my brain. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss the feel of her body or the sound of her voice. After Rick died I couldn’t stand the thought of him being out there roaming the world as one of those things. Lacey never asked me to stay - never forced me to choose she just asked to come with me and I broke her heart.

I watched the light dim from her beautiful eyes the day I packed my things and left Hilltop without a word. When I finally saw her again - six years later by Maggie’s side it had yet to return. Lacey was different now too - she was quiet and that look I first saw in her blue eyes, the concern she had for people? That was long gone.

I came back for you. When I didn’t find Rick along the whole fuckin’ coast I knew he wasn’t out there so I came back… to apologize to ya. To tell ya how fuckin’ lost I am without you…. but I guess I’m too late.

Three words is all she’s spoke to me since she showed up with Maggie two weeks ago. No bullshit about burying kids or reassuring words that she forgives me for leaving her. I watched her lift her blue eyes to mine, wisps of blonde hair blowing around her pretty face.

“Yeah, you are.”

X

“Jus’ let her go. I’ll help ya find these people - I swear.”

I watch Leah pace the narrow hallway between our cells, glancing back to Lacey who’s eerily quiet. Anxiety pulls at my heart as I watch her lying lifeless on the cold ground and then Leah kicks her in the stomach, bringing her back to life as a deep groan fills the room.

“What do you know about these people?” She demands, finally stepping away from Lacey to return to my side - prison bars between us. I lift my eyes from Lacey as she wraps her arms around her torso in pain. “I don’t know shit. I’ve never lied to you Leah. Never and I’m not gonna start now.”

Leah sighs in frustration again. “I’d help you if I could - you know I would. Just give me dog and let us go. You’ll never see me again.”

“Is that what you want?” The pain in Leah’s voice lifts Lacey’s head from the ground and our eyes meet for the first time in a long time. “I came back for you, Leah. I looked everywhere for you. I’m sorry you ended up with these people - you belong with me… but her? She’s not like us. She’s weak - just some girl on the road. Let her go and I’ll help ya.”

A thud brings Leah’s attention to the lone door but my eyes stay on Lacey who doesn’t even flinch at the sudden noise. I watch the silent tears run down her pale cheeks. I don’t know if she’ll make it out of here alive. Hell, I don’t even know if I will but I hope she knows I didn’t mean anything I just said. She’s the only person I’ve ever came back for - the only woman I’ve ever loved. Leah has to think she’s some weak heart broken girl who also lost a kid or else she’ll kill her. I just hope one day I get the chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

Some asshole in Leah’s group pushes through the hallway, nodding to the exit.

“What is it?”

“…found Bossie.”

Leah stands quickly with a gasp. “…and Turner?”

The Reaper shakes his head silently telling her he’s dead. I lift my eyes to Leah as she covers her face, grief washing over her as she looks to Lacey’s crumpled form still clinging to the damp floor. “….take her back to the road and leave her. Make sure she gets what she came here with.”

“What about him?”

I watch Leah turn back to me slowly.

“I’ll get what we need out of him.”

X

[jasmine-tea-latte]

JTL's long but not as long as it could've been review of Netflix's ATLA

So.

I’ve finished watching the Netflix adaptation of Avatar: The Last Airbender and I have a lot of thoughts. Because despite some of the more questionable changes, I overall enjoyed this as an adaptation.

I wish I could say that I was surprised by the criticisms I'm seen so far, but unfortunately, I’m not. As much as I adore the OG series for being one of the greatest animated shows (or television shows, period), it’s been placed on a pedestal over the years and any adaptation of it will always be held to an impossibly high standard. And for better or for worse, a lot of fans have their nostalgia glasses on when it comes to the show, so any deviation from the source material is going to receive some form of backlash. I say this as someone who clearly still loves the show 19 years later, otherwise I wouldn't be here writing about it, ya know?

Anyways, if I had to give it a grade compared to the OG series, I’d give it a B- or a C+. If I’m grading it as its own thing, I’d bump that up to a B+ or A-. There are some elements (pun not intended) that definitely should have been kept in, and some changes that I thought were done well.

TL;DR – I had fun watching it even during the parts that made me cry, and the parts that made me say “… well that was a decision.” I’d love to see the last two books be adapted as well, if for no other reason than to meet Toph Mothereffing Bei Fong and see all of Team Avatar together.

(Also because I’d LOVE to see The Ember Island Players, especially if they managed to work in a few fun cameos. Can't you picture Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson as Play!Toph and thee Dante Basco as Play!Zuko, hamming it up for all it’s worth? Shut up and take my money!)

(And of course, the Last Agni Kai for obvious reasons)

So I’d recommend at least checking it out if you’re interested. I’d also like to recommend that if you do, watch it from a pragmatic standpoint that it’s a condensed adaptation, not a shot-for-shot remake.

Some things that I liked, and some that I didn’t are below the cut:  

(SPOILERS, obvs)

Aang – I really liked this version of him, and though his actor’s still young, I thought he embodied the upbeat, playful side well. I also liked that they removed his one-sided crush on Katara, and – don’t shoot me for this – if they went with Kat@ang later based on how they did their characters in this first season, I wouldn’t be entirely opposed if it’s built on actual friendship and not an unrequited crush. (Still Team Zutara for life, but I don’t think that I’d *hate* it if the show went in this direction.)

Katara – I thought her actress did great when it came to portraying the nurturing, sensitive side. What I didn’t like was them removing nearly all of her feminine rage. Let her be angry! Let her lose her temper and be hot-headed! This post sums it up nicely. That being said, I do think she did well enough with the direction she was given. Here’s hoping we’ll see our girl eff some stuff up if we get Seasons 2 and 3.

Sokka – Fantastic and sarcastic. I really liked his actor’s interpretation of him, and it definitely felt more in line with the character we all fell in love with during the OG show.

Zuko – out of the main cast, I think his performance was the best. He had to step into a major role, taking over from a beloved performance that is still hailed as one of the greatest redemption arcs in modern media with a lot of expectations riding on his shoulders, and I think that his actor knocked it out of the park. It’s different from Dante Basco’s interpretation, obviously. But as I watched each episode, I kept thinking, “there’s our grumpy fire boy.” The scene where he’s throwing the temper tantrum over losing his journal, while Iroh’s standing back and watching? I thought to myself, “this boy is the worst, he’s perfect.” Plus the flashbacks to his life before scarring were done well, and even though I knew what was coming re: the Agni Kai against his father and subsequent banishment, I still got emotional.

Also, regarding the Agni Kai – on one hand, I feel like his absolute refusal to fight back was such an integral part of that scene and understanding who he is as a character. That being said, I didn’t *hate* that in this version he was pushed into defending himself, albeit by holding back. That one shot where he hesitates to attack Ozai, only for his father to use that same move against him moments later… oof.

My ONLY complaint with this version of Zuko is that he didn't say "honor" once.

Other thoughts I had:

🟣 I really liked that we got to see more of the Air Nomads and life at the Southern Air Temple prior to Sozin’s attack. I also liked the explanation the show gave of having all the Air Nomads gathered together for a festival celebrating the comet, which makes more sense if they’re all (allegedly) under one roof.

Additionally, witnessing the genocide itself… I was crying. Especially during the final showdown between Gyatso and Sozin, and the realization that we were witnessing Roku’s (former) best friend slaughter one of his other closest friends.

But why wouldn't they send the children out on the flying bison to escape instead of having them all cornered?!

🟣 I really enjoyed getting to see interactions between Ozai and Iroh, which was one of the biggest missed opportunities in the OG show.

🟣 MY GIRL JUNE. That is all.

The part where she flirts with Iroh was also a nice flip on what happened in the OG show, with his covert pervert crush and all. Plus Zuko’s face when she calls his “dad” cute? Peak Zuzu. Also, poor Iroh hahaha.

🟣 Suki! I really liked the Kyoshi Island episode, plus her awkward flirting with Sokka by kicking his ass.

🟣 I really wish the whole subplot of Kya’s necklace hadn’t been cut, tbh. The flashbacks involving her were good, and as devastating as it was actually seeing her death, it does hammer home the point what a horrifying experience that was (side-eyeing you, everyone making the jokes about Katara always bringing up her dead mother.)

🟣 THE SCARF SCENE. Nice try, Netflix, but I know better than to get my hopes up again from 5 seconds of slow-mo. Did I still screech when it happened, though? Ofc I did!

🟣 The twist with the 41st Division was bittersweet and I may have (okay, definitely) cried.

🟣 Combining Jet’s subplots with the Mechanist’s and putting them in Omashu wasn’t too bad. I do wish the message of “not everyone in the FN is evil” from Jet’s episode had made it into this version, tbh.

🟣 Overall, I liked Jet + the Freedom Fighters. Also, props to his actor for capturing the pretty boy / f*ckboi attitude well.

🟣 Loved Chong and the hippies, of course (SECRET, SECRET, SECRET TUNNEL, YEAH!) and I don’t mind that they were included this early.

🟣 I loved the change to the Cave of Two Lovers and having Oma and Shu be lesbians.

🟣 I feel like if the show’s renewed for a second season and we come back to Omashu, there’s a chance they could revisit the COTL with Katara and Aang this time around.

🟣 The random lady smacking Zuzu with a broom – “how dare you hit that child?!” – was hilarious, and Dallas Liu’s facial expressions of “wtf” and “fml” were a thing of beauty (starts at 1:40 in the video below)

🟣 CABBAGE MAN! I just love that they got the original voice actor, hamming it up and screaming at the sky.

🟣 I LOVED the Blue Spirit episode, and all of the flashbacks, plus the voiceover about masks and seeing past!Zuko contrasted to present!Zuko, as presented in this gifset? RIP my heart.

🟣 The flashback to Lu Ten’s funeral and showing Zuko being the only person to join his uncle, sharing a sweet memory of his cousin while Leaves from the Vine plays? Beautiful. Ditto to the flashbacks of Iroh standing up for his nephew prior to the Agni Kai and the scenes of them getting ready to set sail to search for the Avatar. “I don’t need a babysitter.” “How about a friend?” how about excuse you I did not ask for these emotions how dare you.

🟣 I actually liked the inclusion of Ozai and Azula + Mai and Ty Lee. I also loved the opening of Ep. 3, showing how she was able to infiltrate the team of rebels. RIP to Kevin Tran (in advanced placement), though.

🟣 I loved that Katara rallied the women waterbenders and they were able to help during the Siege of the North. I also liked her reaction when she's talking with Yugoda in the healing huts and realizes why she's been sent there. It gave us a glimpse of the fiestier / headstrong Katara we all know and love, and if the show gets renewed I hope we'll get to see more.

🟣 I really enjoyed them giving Aang and Zuko a few minutes to talk / form a connection after he was unmasked as the Blue Spirit. That was nicely done.

and finally...

Nothing else to add, just chef's kiss.

(gif source)

Anyways! I might make a more extensive list of my personal pros and cons, but for now, I’d still recommend giving it a shot.

[landofzero-archive]

Battle on the Sugoroku Board - The Die Has Been Cast 2

(Location: Meeting room)

(A few days later. “Battle on the Sugoroku Board” project briefing session)

Hinata: Heya, Rinne-senpai!

I never thought I’d be able to co-star with other CosPro members! I’m looking forward to the agency competition♪

Rinne: Oh, it’s Hina isn’t it. You’re alone today, huh?

I thought you’d be coming as twins since 2wink means “two in one!” or somethin’ like that, doesn’t it?

Hinata: Yuuta-kun and I aren’t as “clingy” as we used to be~. This time, since only one person from each unit was needed, I thought it’d be fine if I came.

Ah, the vice prez has also arri~ved. Salute~☆

Ibara: Yeah yeah, salute salute.

Hinata: Eh- this is terrible! Vice prez~, are you in a bad mood?

Ibara: It’s annoying to hear the same topic over and over again. The only thing that can ask for a reaction every time is variety shows.

In any case, all that’s left is for Switch to arrive.

We are slightly past the meeting time. Mikejima-shi, Narukami-shi, have you heard anything?

Madara: I don’t know anything about the office, do I?

Even though I took on some odd jobs, I tried not to get involved in the affairs of units or idols.

Arashi: I especially haven’t. Lately, Aoba-senpai seems to be in the office whenever I catch a glimpse of him. Maybe Natsume-chan is telling him to take a break……?

Ibara: Hmm. In order to give the ever busy Eden a break, I called up one person from each unit.

As a result, it’s not hard to imagine that they’d struggle to decide who will represent Switch.

Well then, shall we proceed with the discussion with the present members?

I’d like to ask someone from NewDi to report the information to Switch—

Natsume: ………

Hinata: Ah, Sakasaki-senpai! Everyone was worried you wouldn’t come~

Natsume: ……… (Ignores him)

Hinata: Are you seriously angry!? What happened!?

Natsume: What do you mean “what happeNED.” Everyone here knows about “NETV,” don’t you!?

Arashi: What do you mean……?

Natsume: It felt odd that “Viper” was offering me a jOB, so I did some research on my oWN.

That’s how it wAS—BinGO. The production director for “Battle on the Sugoroku Board” was previously driven out of the entertainment industry for committing a violent ACT.

Madara: Oh? This is my first time hearing about it.

Natsume: WeLL, unlike back then he used a business naME, so I couldn’t tell from the letters alONE. I used a contact from the entertainment industry to get to the bottom of thINGS.

Don’t waste your breATH. You knew about that and got NewDi involved, didn’t YOU?

Ibara: Ahaha! That’s quite the network you’ve got there~, I’m impressed!

I can't help but be surprised that you found my proposition to be so suspicious. But what Natsume-kun said is true.

However, don’t you think it’s harsh to be so angry?

Natsume: ? What did you sAY?

Ibara: The parties involved have already reflected on what happened and have paid the fine. The legal process has come to a close—and the parties have reached a settlement.

This program may be a chance for him to make his return after mending his ways.

It’d be a shame to lose your job because of the echoes of the past, don’t you think?

Natsume: The problem iS that he was hiding that faCT.

Ibara: I didn’t realize it was “hiding” to be considerate of avoiding unnecessary prying. Vexing, isn’t it~?

Or else what? Individual freedom should be determined entirely by who holds authority at the time?

I suppose I was wrong to think that Natsume-kun, who has always been on the side of the outcasts, wouldn’t take such a stance……♪

Natsume: ………

Rinne: They’re fighting before it even starts. It’s so hot I can even see the illusion of fireworks.

I agree with ya, that story— he’s paying for his past sins now though, isn’t he?

Then we from Crazy:B will respect that!

Hinata: So that’s what you think, Rinne-senpai~. As for me, as long as it’s interesting it’s fine.

From what I’ve seen, the planning for “Battle on the Sugoroku Board” is well done, so it’s okay to go there and make the decision then, isn’t it?

Madara: Even then, if he’s still doing bad things, then maybe we can help prevent future bad things from happening.

I’d like to see NETV once too.

Natsume: …… I get IT. If I’m being narrow-mindED, I’ll leave it at thAT.

HoweVER, there won’t be a next tIME. This imitation of foul play has made me even more suspiciOUS.

Senpai also wants to participate in this projECT, so I’ll see what I can dig UP.

Ibara: Yes, yes. It would be helpful if you could do that!

Personally, I merely sympathize with the fact that his future options were limited because of his past circumstances.

If something were to happen during “Battle on the Sugoroku Board,” I would immediately pull out all of CosPro’s idols!

Now then, let’s get into the explanation of “Battle on the Sugoroku Board!” Thank you for your attention……☆

Previous | Directory | Next

[co-mixed]

Your Favorite Characters Will Never be Perfect in Movies.

Remember how Hawkeye was nothing like in the comics? Or how Rogue never even encountered Gambit on screen? Or how the whole Titans show did its own thing? 

And are you one of those people who can’t help but mention that this-is-not-how-it-happened-in-the-comics? Yeah, I used to be one too. 

In my case, it was enough to part with my expectations for the things I’ve already seen to realize what I’m missing by dismissing (I swear I’m not freestyling here.) But there’s more to it than just working on my own hopes and dreams. There is a reason (a few in fact) why we don’t see page-to-page adaptations. 

Where do I begin?

I’m trying hard to get into DC and the aforementioned Titans only pushed me closer to it (yeah meet another show I absolutely love now). But what stops me every time is issue number 1000+. I have time and I’m a patient lady but I won’t start something I can’t hope to finish. Both Action and Detective comics are over 1k issues long. I’m not sure I have time for that. But I’d love to get to know the characters and so would many others. Lucky for us, each one of them gets an origin story and if you’re lazy, a dedicated segment in an encyclopedia of their respective universe. Movies and shows aren’t that. They always have room for improvement and a fresh look. What they don’t have to do is retell an old, sometimes outdated ~30-page arc. Been there done that. Take me someplace new. 

The Power of a Retcon

Name a character who's never gotten a retcon. I’ll wait. If the first name that pops up is someone who has 10 pages of panel time before being cast off into the roster oblivion, we’re thinking alike. Most prominent characters have had their origin replayed and rewritten. No matter what the reasons were (sometimes it’s just lazy writing), you can always count on at least 3 different ways the character discovered their powers. Now which one do we take to screen? The latest? The fan favorite? Can’t please everyone. Besides, sometimes writers gotta work with a whole different universe (Hey ya, MCU). No one illustrates this better than Wanda and Pietro. And if anything, it’s our weird attraction to canon that caused them to be disowned by Magneto (correction - he never disowned them but it was revealed that he’s not their bio parent, although he reclaimed them back as his own eventually). 

There are a few characters and types of characters for whom it’s important to keep their origin intact. In my opinion, one of them is mutants but even comics have been messing it up for a long time now (looking at you, artist formerly known as Apocalypse!)

With so many changes how do we even trace a character back to their origins? It’s really easier to capture their general sense and role.

Crisis on Every Earth

We get retcons in the main timeline but how about all the other ones? Remember how Marvel went ahead and built a whole Ultimate Universe? Gotta say I loved the experiment even with its shortcomings. And I’d love to see more of that (just give me a high-school Evolution-style AU already!) Oh and then Nick Fury and Spidey became so wildly popular- they made it to movies and 616 respectively, remember? That’s kind of the point. The versions of the characters we know and love aren’t always necessarily the best ones. But we won’t find out unless we give them a fair shot. And I’m all for that.

And if you already have a version you like then what are you actually losing by getting a new one? You’ve read them and you’ve seen them.

Too Many Cooks 

To build upon the previous paragraph, all characters have their creators and then they have dozens of other people who took their turn at writing them. Now which one did it best is quite a question (the best example will always be the X-men although let’s face it, they’re a team). The thing here is, under a new writer every character picks up new traits. There’s a huge difference between the original take, a take from the 90s, and whatever is going on now. Again, it comes down to personal preferences and the story you choose to tell. 

To change or not to change

That, and what to change exactly. Every character can essentially be boiled down to several qualities that you shouldn’t change no matter what. The rest is flexible. 

Yes, for some characters it’s their signature look that can’t be altered (but that’s far less common than most people want to admit). For most though it’s their values or a specific origin or their role in a team. Just because we don’t expect it doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. 

The question of what exactly you can and should change, now this is a fun one. 

What works on paper doesn’t always fit into a frame. Like Superman’s questionable habit of wearing underwear as a top layer of clothing. Sure it works for a campy version but the truth is, he could look however the hell he likes as long as he’s a humanoid. His origin and personal traits are what makes him Superman. But depending on the story you wanna tell, you can change whatever and it will work for me. 

Toys and Sandboxes

Every character is shaped by decades of writing (good and bad). Events get added and erased but even if you get the origin right, the character won’t go through the same things as in comics. That is, unless you’re planning on retelling every story (I’m sure you aren’t.) Every slightest change of events will make them grow apart from their og version. By the second movie, it’s already a different AU version. That’s exactly what AUs are for. Exploring options, using opportunities. 

Our vision of characters always ties to when and where we see them for the first time. With our favorites it speaks to how much they resonate with us. And truth be told, that’s not always their originally intended personality (or look). I’ll go into DC, having a few expectations of my own, same as I watched the X-men movies with a clear vision of their characters. But teenage Jean Grey will never have the memories of teenage time displaced Jean, and  og teenage Jean was absolutely replaceable by a cardboard cutout. 

So there it is, something I will be holding on to when I finally go to see MCU’s take on mutants. And something we all should consider before judging any casting. 

[ay0nha]

Box of Lies | Joseph Quinn (One-shot)

Request: Reader is also a recent addition to the ST cast and began doing a lot of press with Joseph. When they are together, he is usually very attentive to her and even get a little shy. During lunch with Natalia and Charlie in London prior to a event they would attend, the two notice that Joe and the reader are into each other (you know, the glances and awkward hand touches) but that neither takes the initiative, so they decide to help both of them (like Charlie helps Joe and Natalia helps the reader)

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x femme!reader

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: ngl this is straight fluff and it lowkey makes me cringe, but I needed to get this out of my system lol. Thank you so much for this request, it was SO fun to write and I hope I did ya justice! Enjoy.

"Welcome back to The Tonight Show!" Jimmy Fallon greeted the camera, "We're about to play a game called 'Box of Lies' But I'm gonna need some help. She stars in 'Stranger Things'..."

She could hear the host introduce her as she stood behind the curtain her nerves shaking through her body until the curtain was pulled back. She drew in a quick breath and put one foot in front of the other, waving to those around her.

It was strange being on the other end. She never realized just how many people filled the space behind the camera and how all those eyes would feel on her. The music was loud and helped fill her senses while she made her to Jimmy Fallon at center stage where he greets her.

"This is your first time on a late-night show right?" Jimmy Fallon  asked her as a part of her introduction. It was meant to help with her  nerves, but the reminder only heightened them especially as he asked,  "How are you feeling?"

"If my voice starts shaking, you didn't  hear anything," She laughed through her anxiety, just as everyone  advised her to, "But, seriously, I'm excited to be here and am honored ��to be in front of The Roots."

This caused the house band to rumble, the drums bringing the crowd alive.

"They're  legendary, aren't they?" Jimmy guided the conversation expertly,   clapping along with the music, but ending it with a cue. He was familiar  with guests trying to divert the attention off of themselves, but he   brought the conversation back to her, "And I see we've got another  Hawkin's student in the audience..."

"Yeah, I brought my   emotional support, Joe," She glanced over to her costar to see him smile  from behind his mask. She wished he was up here with her like he had   been in every other interview. She was flying solo today and she wasn't sure how she felt about the responsibility, "I've done every interview with him, I think it'd be bad luck if I didn't have him here with me."

"Does he know what you're doing today?"

Through a large smile, she countered, "I'm not even sure what I'm doing today."

"Alright, here's how it works," Jimmy clapped his hands together, pointing to the various boxes as he said, "We have nine mystery boxes containing objects..."

As he explained the game and joked with the audience, she couldn't help but glance back over to Joseph. He was dressed casually which opposed what she had on. He knew her eyes would try and find his that's why he chose carefully where he sat. Before her attention shifted back to the game, he offered her a small wave that helped settle the anxiety in her chest.

She was up first. From the moment she stood the crowd roared and there was a distinct yell for the ninth box. She was careful picking it up, the weight of it unexpectedly heavy as she plopped it back down on the table in front of them.

"Is it heavy or are you lying?" Jimmy played into the misstep, eyes squinting in suspicion.

"I don't know, is it, Jimmy?" She joked back as she pulled down the flap that would reveal something she'd never think she'd have to describe.

Words escaped her as she stared down at the object. Her eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted to the side trying to take it all in. She wanted to be clever with it, whether she chose to lie or not.

"So?"

"Yeah, yeah...that's something..." She drew out her act, drawing laughs from the crowd, "It's, uh, it's..."

Her description was simple. It caused Jimmy to ask follow-up questions and specifics, to which she answered easily. There were chuckles from the crowd, cymbals hit from the band to emphasize her words. It seemed as though Jimmy was genuinely stumped.

Comically, with his eyes still squinted he tapped his fingers to his chin in thought, "Are you telling me the truth?"

"Would I lie to you?" She copied his facial expression before, sitting back with complete calmness, intended to throw him off.

"No," He chuckled again, brushing her off with a wave of his hand, "No, no I think you're telling the....truth!"

There were the drums again, giving a drum roll up until the moment she revealed the object.

"You lie!" Jimmy yelled brilliantly, clapping his hands together to applaud her success, "Oh, you're good."

She was. From Joseph's angle, he couldn't see what she had in front of her, but from the start, he knew she was lying. She had lied beautifully. It took him a few weeks of the press to know the tell-all signs, the very same she exposed tonight.

Her nose would twitch whenever her eyes cast down, but the minute they flickered back up she'd be stoic as ever. It would only last a millisecond, but it was more than notable to a trained eye.

The first time he noticed it was when they first began press. He could remember it like it was yesterday. She was shy compared to the character she played. It threw him off at first as he was someone who was anything but shy. He thought that it had pushed her away, but after a handful of days, she began to open up.

The interviews started out textbook. The two of them were polite, getting to know each other. But soon, she would grab his arm when he made her bubble with laughter. His arm started to find its way to rest behind her chair which also seemed to be pushed closer and closer with each interview.

They had first met when the press had started. Their characters never had an overlap like the others. His was in Hawkins, while her's was in Russia. However, they were the two new fan favorites of the season that had been put together for the press tour.

They traveled well together. The flights to the various places were usually spent quiet, headphones on. But one could only sit in so much silence before getting to know the other.  They were in New York for The Tonight Show, with their next destination being London. She wanted nothing more than to go, having never been. The minute Joseph had heard that he'd already had management schedule their flight together so he could act as her own personal tour guide.

Selfishly, he wanted her to himself while they were in London before the next event. However, when Natalia and Charlie caught wind the four of them bumbled around town.

"You know he likes you, right?" Natalia said once the two boys were out of earshot, ordering lunch for the table.

She was one of the first to notice it, the way Joseph's eyes seemed to always linger on her costar longer than the rest. Charlie had told her she was looking too far into it, but he was proven wrong when Joseph told him himself.

From then, the couple tried to get the two together, but it was always a vain attempt. The two being too shy to act on anything.

"Hmm?" She hummed, pulling her mug to her hands for warmth as they sat outside.

"Joe."

"Oh," She didn't even attempt to stop the blush from spreading across her cheeks, "You know, you're not the first who has told me that."

There were even edits on the internet. Joe was new to social media but they didn't go over his head. Their  characters didn't even interact like that so it was purely clips from  the interviews surfacing. The fans were quick to notice what the two had avoided. They had even caught onto when they were at interviews that were mutually exclusive.

Where the was one, the other wasn't too far behind.

"You know, this is exactly how Charlie and I started out," Natalia sighed through her words, looking back on the fond memory. With her friend still seeming confused in front of her, she continued, "All the pining, soft glances, lying to yourself, whatever you want to call it..."

"Nothing's happening between Joseph and-

"I forgot about the denial," She smiled knowingly.

"I'm not denying anything," She lied through her teeth, "I just enjoy the way things are, and you know..."

She wasn't even sure herself what she was going to say.

"We can talk more later," Natalia's eyes looked beyond her to the two boys coming back with their food.

Joseph gave a squeeze to her shoulder, letting her know he was back. She always enjoy how he used his body as an extension of himself unabashedly. It always caused a shiver to run through her body.

This time Joseph didn't miss it as he stepped into the bench seat, "Not used to the London weather?"

He hadn't waited for a response before scooting closer to her, an arm going around her shoulder to rub his hand up and down quickly. It was second nature for him to do something like that. There was no second thought to actions.

The only reason he pulled away, was to pass her her food and tell her, "I ordered you an extra side so you wouldn't have to go up again...That line is insane."

"Thanks," She offered him a polite smile, afraid to expose herself any further. It was hard due to Not only Natalia's, but Charlie's eyes on her.

Lunch went on with soft chatting about the night's events. It was another red carpet event, something that never got old. There was always so much excitement around them. Usually, she'd feel confident going into a night like tonight, but her mind was preoccupied with how close Joseph sat next to her. It was her turn to move closer to him, making their thighs flesh.

She called upon her acting skills, trying not to be reactive to the way Joseph's warmth made her feel.

Yet, as attentive as always, Joseph whispered down to her, "You alright?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him, cheeks already flushed for him, "Yeah, yeah, all good."

He knew even now how she lied, but this time it wasn't due to a late night game. His hand went to her knee, trying to gain her full attention.

Joseph thought he could let it pass, but as he drew in a breath to ask again, she spoke first, "Natalia, you have any tips for the Vogue beauty video?"

Natalia brightened up at the question, "You accepted it?"

She just shrugged, wanting the change in conversation as she picked at her food, "Yeah, it's a lot less pressure and I'm less likely to embarrass myself..."

"Have you decided pre-glam or post-glam?"

It was the perfect conversation diverter as Natalia offered sound advice. But even while they spoke, Joseph was on her mind. She couldn't get over how kind he was to her. He'd opened his home to her without hesitation. She would never realize how desperate he was to have her this close to him and how his heart ached at the thought of her leaving.

When they returned to his place and she opened the door with his key, it was easy for him to imagine life continuing this way. It felt right to have someone else in his home, someone who he could easily consider his best friend. Someone who spread out in his bathroom, like she belonged there.

"I'm currently staying at a friend's flat," She turned on her charm while imitating an English accent, "So I don't have everything I usually have with me, but hello Vogue, I'm going to show you both my pre-carpet and post-carpet nighttime routine!"

She would let the editing team behind this interview worry about splicing the two together. They would have to also work out a way to edit out Joseph walking around in the background. It was dark enough and out of focus enough to not have to worry about questioning who it was.

He was restless while she was getting ready. He wanted to watch her at every stage of her beauty. Therefore, while she talked to the camera, Joseph sat on the closed toilet seat and watched her continue her routine. He was always so impressed by her, no matter what she was doing.

He felt bad for how he struggled to listen to what she was saying. It was due to how Charlie's words echoed in his mind. Just kiss her.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" She broke from talking to the camera to look at the boy sitting expectantly next to her.

"No, no, nothing," He shook his head with a sheepish smile for getting caught "Sorry, continue, please."

"Well now I feel silly," She blushed into the camera, "But uh, yeah, I don't wear foundation because I don't like how it feels sitting on my skin...but with those cameras I'll indulge in some concealer."

Her voiced muffled out again as Joseph continued to watch her. She'd moved onto her eyes now. It practically mesmerized him. She had such delicacy with the way she brought the charcoal color over the corners of her eyes. He knew what was coming next and his yes were already on her lips before she had even started.

"Do you mind passing me the lipstick?" She pointed just behind Joe, "If the red isn't there, I'll take the plum."

The plum was his favorite. It was sheer on her lips and paired with her features well. It was the one that she always had with her rain or shine. The one when she'd forget her bag throw in his jacket pocket for safe keeping and the one he safeguarded like no other.

He felt a jolt when their fingertips touched in the exchange. He was almost positive she felt it too by the way she hesitated in turning back towards the camera Vogue had provided for her.

"...I-I've watched so many of these Vogue videos and I've fallen in love with doing a smudged lip," She pushed the product over her lips smoothly making sure to reach every corner, then began to dab with her finger, "Sometimes when it doesn't look smudged enough I like to soften the lip by-

In one swift motion, Joseph's lips were on hers swallowing her sentence. He moved quickly enough that only his back was to the camera as his shoulder shrugged up a bit to pull her even closer. He was lucky with how the camera was angled, cropping enough of his head out that the kiss was only recorded by their memory.

There was no shock in  his action. She sighed into the kiss, relaxing under his touch. This is  what they both needed, it wasn't rushed, but calm, their lips naturally  working together. Their shared emotion was obvious when both of pressed closer together.

She threaded her hand into his hair, enjoying the warmth of his body  pressed against hers. His tongue swiped at her lower lip and she let out a soft  sigh which he took as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hand curved around her neck, his thumb brushing right under her jaw. It made her wonder if he could  feel her pulse quicken at his touch because she felt his with the hand on his chest.  

"Okay, okay," She said pulling back, stumbling a bit with her movements, "Ah, ok," She laughed out to the camera, fingertips on her tingling lips, "Well, a kiss isn't required for the smudged look, but it, uh, helps."

[hitmewithabusposts]

The new cast of jackass freaking out over the famous reader who is married to Johnny who came to visit that fine silver fox-I mean her husband 😭💗

I LOVE THIS! I have a slightly suggestive silver foxville fic in my drafts rn I’m debating on posting…so maybe this will help me post that because that man is still fine as hell😭🫣

Out with the Old

Knox x reader

I arrived on set, but because of covid it was the first time I was allowed to visit my husband and all his friends while they were filming, it was also the first time I’d be officially meeting the new guys.

Johnny said they were filming a bit with Rachel, Poopies, and Steveo where they had to be “mimes” and right away I saw the mime costumes and Knox in a green cardigan and his raybans that haven’t left his side for 20 years.

When Knox saw me, his face lit up and he jogged over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and bending down to kiss me, my hand sliding up to his jaw. He didn’t know I was coming today either, I’d been filming for a show up in Canada the past 2 weeks so he’d only been able to fly out once to see me since they were filming Jackass right now too, so I talked to Jeff and wanted to surpise him.

We met back in 2005, both of us on set for some movie and after filming was done for that, he asked me out. And 4 years later he proposed, and we’ve been married since then. The other guys of Jackass have just become complete family to me too, spending so much time with them at premiers, dinners, and visiting everyone on set when I wasn’t filming something of my own.

“God honey, what are you doing here?” He asked suprised, his hands holding my hips still. “We got done filming early, and I wanted to suprise you, so I talked to Jeff and he said I could come” I said, running my hand down his chest, feeling him flex under his tee shirt.

“I’ve missed you” he told me, engulfing me in another hug that I’ve missed. “C‘mon, we just have a bit more to film, but you can see some of the old guys who are here and I’ll introduce you to the new ones, then I’m taking you home” he said, throwing me a wink under his sunglasses.

By now everyone was starting, and the new people were talking amongst themselves, pointing over at me. When me and Knox started to approach, Chris instantly ran over to hug me. “I’ve missed you, this man hasn’t shut up about you since filming started” he said, making Johnny’s cheeks blush. I looked over at him, and his silver hair that was shining in the sunlight, and reflecting off his tan skin. If anyone ages like fine wine, it’s my husband.

The new guys had slowly approached us, so I turned to them and said, “hey guys! I’m y/n, I’m married to this old man” I joked, poking Knox in his arm, as he was standing behind me, hugging me with his head on my shoulder.

“we know who you are! Everyone here always talks about you and you’re one of my favorite actresses!” Rachel said, coming up to give me a hug. “It’s so nice to see a girl around here for a change! Keep them in shape for me when I’m not around” I joked, getting a laugh from everyone.

Poopies talked next saying, “wow, I totally had a crush on you when I was a kid” and then turned to Knox and said, “you’re a lucky man dude” getting everyone to laugh again, and a slap to the arm from Knox.

“Thank god you showed up, Knox has been relentless and getting on everyone’s nerves, I think he just needs laid” Steveo joked, telling me about how much of a handful he’d been the past couple weeks, especially with the tasers which didn’t surprise me.

We all stood around and talked, and I watched Steveo get his shins absolutely destroyed with a skateboard, before Knox was back at my side, his arm around my waist. “Wanna get out of here sweetheart?” He asked lowly, running a big hand down my side. “Of course, old man” I joked, making him smile and kiss my head.

“We’re out for the night, we’ll see you guys in the morning!” He yelled, multiple people waving or yelling “see ya later” back. Jeff yelling “don’t have too much fun kids”, getting a middle finger from me and a “this is why I taze you Jeff” from Knox as we walked to his car.

He held the door open for me and ran around to the drivers seat, instantly holding my hand in his over the counsel. “So, what do you think of the new guys?” He asked, turning his head to look at me with that million-dollar smile I fell for.

“They’re super funny, I can’t wait to meet the others, you picked good honey” I told him, to which he kissed the back of my hand and said, “well I’m married to you, so obviously I know how to pick ‘em”

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Resolution - BTS CEO DRABBLE PT 3

So I started this tumblr thinking I would post nothing and now I’ve posted three things in the last 24 hours, what was meant to be a one shot now has three parts lol. I didn’t think the second part was good enough so I’m hoping this part is x

Prev / Next

The doorbell rings an hour too early, but no one stands at the door when you open it... weird. Until you glance down to see the white box wrapped in purple ribbon. Taking it into your apartment you unwrap the bow and open the box, gasping at the beautiful black dress inside with a little note attached “wear me tonight?”

The butterflies in your stomach caused you to giggle, you try to settle your nerves as you get ready for your first date with the seven men that ruled your heart.

You’re finished getting ready far too early and now you pace the apartment in anticipation, what if it all goes wrong? What if they decide this was all a mistake? What would you do then, to dangle this hope in front of you and take it away would crush you.

Your nerves get the better of you, and the little butterflies turn into stinging bees, causing you to clutch your stomach in pain. Maybe you should call it off before you ruin it all.

In your negative headspace you don’t hear the light knocks on the door, 15 minutes too early to be the boys, but your ears catch the soft murmur of Tae’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Flower?” He calls for you. You hear more voices in the background, as Jimin and Jungkook start to speak.

“Maybe she’s still getting ready?” Jungkook mumbled, his own nerves getting to him as he nibbles on his bottom lip in habit.

“Angel?” Jimin says louder than the other two, knocking on the door loudly, but you’re frozen in place. You want to do this, the universe knows you do but the doubt that clouds over you is suffocating you as you breathe. Why would they possibly want this?

“Angel, Jungkook’s going to knock down the door if you don’t open up!” Jimin calls in loudly, voice clear as bells ringing through your apartment, and you wince hoping your neighbours are out.

“You’re worrying us pretty flower,” Tae chimes in after him.

Would it be the worst thing if they broke down the door? You could always bill them for it and hide underneath the bed...

“Bunny?” It’s Jungkook’s voice that makes you move, you always had a soft spot for the maknae, he was younger than you and you felt very protective over him. “Noona, are you there?” He only ever called you formally when he felt vulnerable or insecure and your heart breaks a little for being the cause of it.

You open the door with downcast eyes, the excitement gone as the cloud that looms over you swallows you whole.

The boys share a look, Jungkook stepping forward to bring your face into his soft hands. You look up at his doe eyes, swimming with stars inside, and he offers you a reassuring smile. Jimin wolf whistles next to him and you cover your burning cheeks with your own palms.

“Hyung!” Jungkook tells him off for teasing you.

“Couldn’t help it,” Jimin laughs before taking your hands and tearing them away from your face. “What’s got my sinful angel looking so sad?”

He bends down until his eyes are level with yours, and you look away hesitantly, hoping he doesn’t see through you.

“You look beautiful flower,” Taehyung smiles as he brings out the bouquet he hid behind him.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling awkward at the compliment. Jimin tuts in front of you.

“I asked you a question Y/n, what’s wrong?”

It’s your turn to nibble your lips self consciously, before Tae presses his thumb against them to stop you. You try not to look at him, you know how well he can read you, and you’re not proven wrong when he hums in thought.

“I think my good girl is having some bad thoughts,” he says in his signature timbre. Eyes narrowing as you shuffle uncomfortably.

“Naughty thoughts?” Jimin smirks teasingly.

“Hyung,” Jungkook sighs at his older friend’s antics, but even Tae laughs a little, boxy grin on show.

“Let’s talk business Y/n,” Jimin continues, as you frown at him in confusion. What did he mean by that? “We are business men after all,” he says as if it’s the most obvious fact on earth.

“We know how to strike a deal that benefits both parties, so let’s make a deal.” His hands are still clutching yours as he steps closer to you, not letting you step back from his new intimidating stare.

“Come to dinner with an open heart, and let us show you how much we want you,” he whispers against your lips and you stop breathing. “We’ve been waiting for this for a very long time angel, and my patience is running out.”

You’re forced to swallow nothing as his eyes penetrate through yours, trying to lean back to get some room to breathe, but that’s not what Jimin wants. He wants you to drown in them until you give in.

You nod meekly, as Tae smirks beside you both.

“Good girl.”

—————————————————————————

The car ride did nothing to calm your nerves, you leg bounced so much that Tae put a big palm over it to steady you but it had the complete opposite effect as you felt the heat from his hand travel through your skin.

When you arrived, Jimin opened the door like a gentleman before grabbing a hand and pulling you out a little impatiently, a cheeky apology leaving his lips as he didn’t let you break eye contact with him. He literally would not let you live tonight it seemed.

You’d visited the mansion before, for official business of course, but tonight it looked a little more intimidating than usual. You felt a palm on your back as Jungkook walked beside you, smiling softly at you, crinkling his nose in excitement. That eased you a little and you reflected his smile back at him.

Namjoon and Hobi stood at the enterance waiting to greet you, you offer them a small smile and they grin in return.

“Wow sunshine,” Hobi looks you up and down, the dress hugged you in all the right places and he reminded himself to thank Tae later for picking it out.

He takes you from Jungkook with an arm around your waist, and leaves a small peck on your lips unexpectedly. Your heart rate skyrockets to the moon, you feel his warmth breath as he sighs, rubbing his nose softly against yours, eyes closed in content.

“Sorry sunshine, couldn’t resist,” he chuckles softy. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks you out of the spell Hobi cast you under and you step away a little embarrassed, you can hear Jimin coo and you hope your ears haven’t turned red.

Ever the gentleman, Namjoon takes your hand in his before bowing down to kiss it. He turns it over so your palm faces the sky before pacing another kiss on your wrist. He hums as if contemplating a difficult equation, before pulling you closer and kissing your arm before the juncture of your elbow. When he looks up at you, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You definitely weren’t going to survive tonight going by the predatory look in your gentle boss’ eyes. He moves closer still, before placing his lips on the exposed skin of your collar bone, lingering there longer than he had before, humming contently. The next kiss is on your throat and you find the hand he’s not holding grab onto him to ground your self. You can feel the smirk against your skin, and it makes you shudder in anticipation through the warmth that envelops you.

He still hasn’t kissed your lips yet, you think. So when he pulls away slightly you act before you realise what you’ve done. It’s Namjoon’s turn to freeze as your lips move against his, the pillows of your lips so soft he thought he was imagining it, until you pull away with a soft moan and he nearly growls.

“When you’re done, there’s dinner on the table getting cold,” Yoongi scoffs from the door. You’re pretty sure you could contest hell for how hot your cheeks are burning, and the cool night air does nothing to cool them, not with Yoongi looking at you with his feline eyes.

“Is kitten done playing with her new toys?” He teases and you choke on air, causing Jimin to laugh into the air and Jungkook to rub your back soothingly. Yoongi’s gummy grin shows itself at your reaction, he could hardly talk with the way he always played with you.

“Ya Yoongi, if you kill my beautiful girl before she even tastes my food I won’t be happy,” Jin yells from inside.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but holds out his hand for you, an unfamiliar softness in his eyes, one that was always there when he looked at you, but made sure you never saw until now. You couldn’t help the smile as you walked up to him, never annoyed for too long, not when he made this warmth spread across your chest. When you take his hand he looks at you like every star is held inside your eyes, soft smile gracing his features. He was never a fan of stargazing until now, he hated any form of eye contact but with you he could hold your gaze forever.

He places a kiss on your cheek first, looking at you to make sure you were okay. He might tease you until you felt your soul burn but he always made sure you were okay. He tucks in a loose stand of hair the wind decided to blow out of place, before looking at your lips, leaning in to rid the space between you both. You felt a fire ignite as his lips met yours, Yoongi was a closed book most of the time but he always silently told you what he was thinking. You could feel everything he wanted to say in the way his mouth moved slowly against yours, and it took your breath away.

“Yoongi stop hogging her!” Jin came through the door, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, no real anger behind his words. Yoongi groans as he pulls away, looking at you with a peaceful smile.

Softly he pushes you towards Jin, who wraps his arms around you expectedly.

“Hi princess,” he said unexpectedly, making you giggle. That one was new, and he loved the reaction it got out of you, biting swollen lips to stop yourself grinning.

���Hi handsome,” you blush as you try to flirt back, if they made you feel all fuzzy inside you could try to do it back right? You hear laughter behind you as Jin’s ears burn bright red and he stutters a little. You take the chance to kiss his perfect pillow lips and he swears he can feel steam leave his ears with how hot he’s feeling. Maybe he should call you dangerous girl instead.

“Dinners ready,” he says in a small voice, letting you go in a daze and walking through the house. It’s your turn to chuckle now.

“Told you she was having naughty thoughts,” you hear Jimin say to Tae, rolling your eyes at him as they walk past. As you move to follow them a hand on yours holds you back.

You look at Jungkook with confusion, his eyes are on the ground as he shuffles from foot to foot, waiting for his Hyungs to move into the next room.

He clears his throat before pouting, “Noona you’re really mean,” he whispers, and your heart beats with worry.

“Kookie?” You question, running a thumb across his cheek, as your palm held his face to look at yours. His cute pout contrasts the darkness in his narrowing eyes.

“I didn’t get a kiss Bunny,” he grumbles. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning at his behaviour but he can see what you’re trying to do, pout turning stern as his arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air.

“Kookie,” you squeal in surprise, but it’s his turn to grin. “Jungkook put me down!”

He shakes his head, “need a kiss first Noona.”

You sigh in faux annoyance, this demanding boy really was something else. You take his face in your palms, leaning down to kiss him. He drinks you in fervently, feeling your heat against his mouth. Your last doubts dissipate as the maknae grips your skin tighter, fighting with himself to pull away. He looks at you with hunger in his eyes, but as you smile at him, eyes full of love, he decides to smile back. He could wait a little longer to devour you, his eyebrows wiggle at the thought, making you giggle again, the sound music to his ears, calming his own heart down.

He starts walking towards where the others are waiting, still holding you in his grasp as if you weighed nothing.

“Kookie, I can walk,” you don’t know why you’re a giggling mess but it definitely has something to do with the man holding you. He hums dissaprovingly against your skin, nipping at your collar bone causing you to gasp. He was starving for you, a little taste wouldn’t hurt.

“Why do you need to walk Bunny?” He murmured against you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, enjoying how warm your skin was getting at his actions.

You both enter the dining room, where six other men lovingly await. Their eyes and smiles on you, and you wondered why you ever doubted anything in the first place.

[junowritings]

Hello! I just saw your Kalim x reader and my heart went boom!

Is there any chance that I can request a Neige Leblanche x Fem NRC student Reader?

*Where Neige falls for her quite literally and romanticly when she is setting up for VDC. But turns out his love is somewhat forbidden in a sense.*

please and thank you! Also, question! Have you seen Yuuekn for the twst manga? He's really cute in my opinion! Have a good day!

I’m so happy to hear that you liked that hun I had a lot of hun with it~! Also I feel like writing Neige on Vil’s birthday’s gonna get me cursed but it’s fiiiine~

Also HELL YEAH I’VE SEEN YUUKEN. That man threatened Crowley with a kendo stick what a legend I can’t wait for the next volume! --------

You were only supposed to oversee the others working as VDC was being set up, to go around checking on others progress and non-too-subtly marvel at all of the booths as they were being built and arranged in the appropriate locations. 

Admittedly, you were probably only allowed free reign so you didn’t get in the way of the performers as they got in some practice for the final show. If the sharp look Vil had given you when as he’d practically herded you out was anything to go by, making yourself scarce till things cooled down was your best course of action, so you’d taken to keeping track of the backstage team, if only to see all the work that went into making this long awaited event happen. 

It was just pure chance that one of the second years had caught you wandering between equipment and mistook you as part of the team. Before you knew it, he was handing you an imposingly large set of speakers and asking you to get them moved back to the stage, and perhaps if you’d been more firmer about refusing, then you wouldn’t have been scrambling towards the main area, weighty equipment in tow as you hauled them alongside you. 

Fortunately, the work you’d been dragged into suited you just fine; you’d worked a few backstage gigs during previous school events, thanks to the headmaster’s brilliant idea to leave professional work to a bunch of minimally trained students (seriously, what does Crowley even spend the event budget on?). Thankfully, you were well prepared, and it looked like the other ‘volunteers’ were grateful for the extra set of hands too, as before long you were being approached by some of the first year workers, asking for your advice or help because they weren’t sure what to do.

You’re overseeing one such first year as he sets up the wires for the overhead lights, peering over his shoulder from where he’s crouched and guiding him when needed. When he plugs in the last of the cords he turns to glance up at you, wordlessly seeking your approval.  

You grin and flash him a thumbs up. “Hey, great job. Told ya you could do it.”

At your response the student visibly relaxes, standing up and rolling off the stiffness from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gives the lights a quick once over before shuffling back, releasing a sigh as he muses aloud. “Looks like that was the last of the tech setup; do you think we’ll be needed anywhere else?”

You give a noncommittal shrug. “Probably not; unless we’re needed down by the clubs I think they’re all set.” 

Honestly, the work’s pretty much done by this point, and you’re sure that sooner or later you’ll be getting a call from Rook letting you know it’s time to rejoin the group. You’ve got to admit, you’re looking forward to seeing all of the boys’ hard work pay off - you know they’ve been busting their butts to polish their routine and you’re sure their nerves are kicking in right about now.

Maybe you could bring them something back from the stalls? A good luck charm or something to snack on to ease their nerves a bit - you’re sure Ace and Kalim would appreciate some of those ‘pick-me-up’ treats from those food stands they’d been eyeing near the entrance...

Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye mid-musing, and you find yourself pausing as you cast your gaze towards the stage. There’s several people on stage, and you know at a glance that they’re not part of the crew - the pristine white and blue uniforms were a dead giveaway as is, but as you watch the small group move along the structure you freeze, eyes narrowing.

Are those...kids?

You can’t be certain, given that you’re pretty sure this is a students only event, however you’re transfixed on watching them chatter happily to one another as they point at the different decorations strung up all over the venue. There’s one boy among them that you notice, namely because he’s the tallest of the small, merry group; his smile is bright and gentle as he laughs along with his friends, guiding two of them by the hands so that the group doesn’t get separated. 

The sight is cute, no one can deny, and it's enough to tug a smile at the corner of your lips. The student beside you notices your silence and follows your gaze, gasping when he spots who you’re looking at.

“Wha-Neige is here already?!”

“Neige?” You look between the student and the boy, confused. 

Now where have you heard that name before…

Your eyes widen when you remember. Of course, Neige Leblanche! That guy you’d seen from those interviews! You remember how miffed Vil had gotten when at the sight of the soft spoken boy when they’d worked a shoot together, just about dragging you and Rook out with him before Neige had even finished his segment. Apparently they were rivals or something, but you’d never gotten the chance to ask before Vil had shut that conversation down the moment it started.

Remembering the tempered scowl on Vil’s otherwise pristine face brought a frown to your own. What was it about this guy that he’d hated so much? The more you watched Neige the more he seemed about as nice as you’d expect, regarding his friends with a soft smile that radiated nothing but warmth and kindness as they swarmed around him, all smiles and laughter. 

One of the boys tottered away from the group, wandering over to the edge of the stage to look down at the people still milling about. His fingers were wound into the scarf around his neck, pulling it up close to his face as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking around with curious eyes. Eventually, he spotted you off to the side and you found yourself smiling as you offered a small wave.

The boy’s face brightened and he didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, waving back and letting go of his scarf long enough for you to see him smiling back at you. You chuckled a little at the sight, but the little moment doesn’t last long before his face suddenly scrunches up, discomfort crossing his face.

“A-Achoo!”

He sneezes violently enough that it completely knocks him off balance, and your face pales when you watch him start to topple off of the stage. People have wrecked their ankles just trying to jump from that height, so the moment you see him start to fall you’re running to catch him, arms stretching out before you’ve even reached him.

“Ah! Snick!”

Neige notices his friend beginning to tumble and crosses the stage before you get there, calling out the boy's name as a hand reaches out to grab the back of that peach scarf and uses the garment to pull him upright. You’d have been relieved if the momentum of yanking him back hadn’t sent Neige falling right off in his place, and now you’re running to catch a different boy as you watch him go over the edge.

Fortunately, the split second difference between him and Snick gives you enough time to reach him, and Neige lands in your open arms not a moment after you get there with a gasp at the force. Mentally congratulating yourself for the good catch, you look down at the boy nestled in your arms, who looks back up at you with a surprised expression.

His hair’s skewed, hat having landed somewhere in the fall as soft black strands fall over his face and brush against his lashes. He’s close enough that you’re pretty sure that you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, and his eyes are wide - you guess he’s still shaken from the tumble - but up close you can see just how striking they are, a deep brown easing into a honey color.

‘No wonder this guy’s an actor,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘He looks like he’s straight from a painting.’

You shake the thought away and focus on the moment, lips parting to ask. “Are you okay?”

For a beat, Neige blinks up at you, speechless before breaking from his apparent reverie with a start.

“O-Oh! Y-yes, thank you.” you watch a pink hue rise to his face, dusting across his cheeks as he brings  a hand to fix his collar, gaze never straying from your own.

Your expression softens at the response. How cute.

“Niege! Neige, are you okay?!”

A voice calls out, and you look up just in time to spot Neige’s gaggle of friends as they race down the stage stairs, moving to converge around you and the boy in your arms. The one who yelled - with silver hair and glasses - seems relieved when he sees Niege is unharmed, and Snick looks on the verge of tears as he shuffles to his friend’s side, bumbling apologies between sniffles.

Neige smiles and reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Snick’s hair. “It’s alright; I’m fine, everyone.”

The spectacled boy turns to you and bows. “Thank you so much for your help!”

You shuffle anxiously at the praise. “Ah, well, it’s no sweat, really - I’m glad I caught him in time! Heh…”

Both you and Neige sneak a look at one another, and as your eyes meet you become acutely aware of the fact that you’re still holding him to your chest. Masking your embarrassment with a cough, you loosen your grip enough for him to ease back onto his feet. He smooths out his sweater and you lean down to grab his hat, shaking it back into shape before moving to place it back onto his head. 

You don’t think twice about tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear until he lets out a soft “Oh!” and you fluster, bringing your hands to your chest as he mirrors the motion.

“Thank you for catching me!” he hums, words sincere as he gives a little bow of his own.

“It’s no problem!” you give an idle wave, rubbing the back of your neck as you add. “Besides, the headmaster would have my head if another school’s student got hurt on our school grounds!”

Neige raises a brow at your words, but laughs along with you when you chuckle.

“So, you guys are entering VDC, right?” you venture a guess, changing the subject, and you watch the group nod in various degrees of agreement.

“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone perform!” Neige beams at the mention of the event. “Are you a member of the NRC team…?”

He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know your name; when you tell him, he repeats the name back to himself softly, as though making sure to remember it.

“As for me? I’m not on their team, well, technically.” you find yourself hesitating for a moment. “I’m more of a manager, cheering on the team and helping out with set-up. Though, Vil’s been handling most of the work, heh.”

“Vil?” he parrots back to you, looking visibly delighted at the name Happy to ramble about your friend, you’re quick to continue.

“Yeah! He’s been working really hard with everyone to polish their performance - I swear, you’re gonna love it! He’s actually-”

“(Y/N)-!”

You freeze, head whipping in the direction of the voice, spotting Vil striding in your direction as the crowd parts seamlessly to move out of his way. You grin as you watch him approach, but your smile falters a bit when you see his expression. Though his face remains carefully neutral, you’ve known him long enough to recognize that he’s positively seething, and you have no idea what’s got him so angry.

Still surprised to see him, you shift to face him. “Oh, hey Vil! What are you doing-?”

“We need to go.” Vil’s voice is stern, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder guiding you away from Niege and back towards the way he’d come from.

“Wha-why?” you sputter, confused.

“The event’s nearly starting, and we’re up first - you’re going to be late.”

He punctuates each word carefully, though gives you a surprisingly soft smile and brings his free hand to rest against your back when he notices the confusion visible on your face. “The others are waiting for you.” he adds, as though working to ease your concern as he continues to walk with you.

“O-oh, okay.” you fumble for a moment before craning your neck to look back at Neige, giving him the brightest smile you can muster as you wave.

“See you later, Neige! Good luck with the performance~!”

Neige returns the wave, soft smile betrayed by furrowed brows as he watches your retreating form disappear back into the bustle of people. For a few moments he tries to spot you in the crowd before reluctantly giving up, bringing a hand up to his chest and lightly grasping his sweater between his fingers.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbles aloud, hoping to himself that this isn’t the last time he sees you today.

[tsumune]

haikyuu boys get glasses

features: atsumu, osamu

tags: fluff, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

a/n: atsumu’s part is inspired by @/zan_miya’s art on ig!

miya atsumu

atsumu is stubborn

he often stays up watching volleyball matches on his phone in the dark

you and osamu have both warned him about his habits before, but he just brushes it off

finally, it’s time for his yearly eye checkup

“this isn’t fair! why doesn’t ‘samu need glasses too!” atsumu complains while seated in the black leather chair of the optometrist’s office.

“because i don’t spend all day and night glued to my phone watching volleyball matches,” osamu replies with an exasperated side eye to his brother.

atsumu groans and slumps further down his chair. the optometrist, bless him for putting up with the miya twins, tells him he can go and pick out a pair of glasses when he’s ready.

“help me pick a good pair, ‘samu.”

osamu snickers to himself as he picks out the tackiest pair he can find: thick, bright orange frames.

“wow, these aren’t bad,” atsumu says as he takes and examines them. osamu is about to shoot his brother a disgusted look when atsumu whacks him over the head.

“take this seriously! this has to fit well with my public image. i’ll treat ya to a meal if you find a better pair than me.”

of course atsumu finds a way to make this into a competition, but osamu knows he’s just as competitive and they begin searching the racks in earnest. finally, osamu comes across a pair that are genuinely pretty good.

“those don’t look half bad on ya, ‘tsumu.”

“really? then ya should wear a pair with me!”

“no.”

“aw come on-“ osamu walks off in the middle of atsumu’s unconvincing whining and starts heading for the front desk, atsumu trailing behind dejectedly.

-

“babe! what’s taking you so long to get ready?” you call out to your boyfriend in the bathroom. atsumu gives a muffled “i’ll be done soon!”, but he doesn’t move just yet. he stares at his reflection, black frames sitting comfortably on his face. atsumu has always cared about his appearance, so while he doesn’t love the idea of having to wear something he didn’t choose to willingly, he admits the pair osamu chose isn’t all that bad. now he’s just worried about whether you’ll like it or not. he thinks the glasses make him look more dorky. are you into that? well, only one way to find. atsumu gives one last sigh and lightly slaps both sides of his cheeks.

“took you long enoug-“ your words are cut off as you stare at the blonde in front of you, eyes shyly cast downward and a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. neither of you move nor speak for what seems like minutes. atsumu shifts uncomfortably in his spot, too intimidated by the silence to look for your reaction. but he can feel your stare boring into him, and it withers his confidence more and more, until eventually he can’t stand it anymore.

“does it look that bad!”

“you look so adorable!”

the two of you yell at each other at the same time, and are both taken aback by the other’s exclamation.

“you think so?”

“what, why would it look bad!”

atsumu’s blush deepens as you suddenly move up flush against him, your head tilted up to look into his eyes.

“‘tsumu, you really look so cute, they suit you so much.”

no way. how can you be so cute and sincere while saying that? atsumu feels like he can melt into a puddle, but he doesn’t want to let you realize your effect on him, so he feigns confidence.

“yeah, i knew they’d look good on me.”

you snicker softly at your boyfriend’s pride, and pretend as if you didn’t just hear his insecure words or see his clearly nervous stance as he waited for your approval. you grin.

“well then, why don’t we go see a movie after dinner tonight? you’ll actually be able to see the screen this time.” you tease.

“hey, i could see the screen perfectly fine last time.”

“really? then tell me, what was the demon slayer movie about?”

“...a slayer...slaying demons.”

“you were blind as a bat.”

miya osamu

osamu is often staring at bills and budgets all day for his restaurant

you have a feeling his eyesight is worsening because he always asks you for help finding things

he wonders where his calculator is when it’s right next to him, or drops a pen and loses it forever

one time as you walked towards the meeting place for a date he didn’t wave until you were a few feet away from him because he didn’t recognize you

so you finally force him to go to the eye doctor and he gets a pair of glasses

“hey osamu- woah.” a regular enters onigiri miya and is stunned for a few moments as he looks at the shop owner.

osamu glances up at him and smiles. “the regular?”

“yeah. when’d you get glasses? it doesn’t really suit you,” the customer says as he sits himself down. osamu furrows his brows but decides to brush off the comment.

“just a few days ago, i’ve been having vision problems for a while.” the customer hums in response and osamu gets to work on his order.

for the rest of the day, more regulars filter in and out, some seeing osamu since he got his new glasses for the first time. some of them make comments, such as ‘well that’s new’ or ‘you look different’, and osamu can’t help but think on the negative side. sure, they probably didn’t mean anything bad, and osamu didn’t think he’d be one to care so much about others’ opinions, but for some reason they got to him more than usual. he stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror on his break, and slowly removes his glasses.

-

that night, you hear yelling from osamu’s home office again.

“y/n, have you seen my calculator?”

that’s a question you haven’t heard in a while. you walk in to find osamu bent under his desk, looking around and feeling the ground. when he comes back up, you realize why he couldn’t find it.

“baby, why did you take your glasses off?”

“they were giving me a headache. just help me find my calculator,” osamu says quickly, but you don’t buy his lie. the glasses fit perfectly fine before, and he even mused about how it’s amazing he can see every little detail now (he pointed out a pimple on your face and you wanted to smack him).

“no. i’m not helping you until you tell me why you took your glasses off. or you can just put them back on and find it yourself.”

osamu sighs in defeat, and a small pout paints his face.

“some of the regulars said they don’t suit me...”

you stare at osamu, and then spot his glasses on the table beside him. you pick them up and slowly slip them over his eyes.

osamu looks up at you like a hurt puppy, and you feel your heart melt.

“don’t listen to them. you’re the prettiest boy in the world, glasses or not.” you place small kisses all over osamu’s face, watching as his expression brightens. he laughs when you don’t stop, complaining that it tickles, and you take in osamu’s face, the way his smile lifts his cheekbones and his eyes twinkle in laughter.

“there’s my pretty boy,” you say solemnly, hand patting osamu’s head. before he can react, you pull out your phone and take a picture, turning it around to show him. you zoom into his face and point out everything you love about it while osamu feigns protest.

“i love the way your lips sit in a small cute pout, but curl up when you’re happy. i love your nose, and how it scrunches up when you get cold. i love your well-kempt eyebrows, and how you pretend you hate me plucking them but you really love it,” osamu shakes his head playfully, but a smile is playing on his lips as he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

“but most of all, i love your eyes. i love how i can clearly see them through your glasses, how the silver frames highlight their colour even more, and how i know that you can clearly see the world and all it has to offer through them too. i hope you can see how truly beautiful you are.”

osamu stares into your eyes and feels like he’s drowning in their sincerity. he can feel tears threaten to come up, and he blinks quickly to get rid of them. looking at the picture of himself on your phone, he decides he does look pretty good.

“ah, i found my calculator,” he says as he reaches behind you. “thanks for helping me,” his eyes shift to the side, and you understand what he means.

“anytime,” you reply with another kiss to his cheek.

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[palimpsessed]

Please please please could you talk about this parallel internal monologue—what are your thoughts?

BAZ

I kiss him back, squarely. Firmly. Matter-of-factly. You’re all I want, I think. And you can have everything you need.”

“I’m not sure what he’s telling me with this kiss. I pretend it’s Yes and Yes and Be kind to me.”

SIMON

“Fine, you fucker. Have me. Just have me. Do your worst, you stubborn twat. Be the death of me. You’ll be the death of me.”

Oh ho ho, my dear Anon. Of course I will talk about this part!!! What a meaty passage to sink my teeth into.

To put things as simply as possible, the juxtaposition we see between these two sections is the perfect encapsulation of the different ways Simon and Baz express and receive love.

Let's start by taking a look at Baz's piece, as it does come first. (Read that sentence out of context, I dare ya.)

At this point in the book, Baz and Simon have just had one of the most critical relationship-building conversations thus far. Simon has set boundaries about magic being cast on his body that Baz has agreed to. They've talked about Lamb and America and settled that matter for good. Baz has managed to lasso Simon with own tail and proceeded to do some very interesting things to it. (I'm going to do my best not to get distracted by that, but, Anon, if you know anything about me, you'll know what an absolutely monumental struggle that is.) Simon has asked Baz to be less kind to him and Baz has delivered, as only Baz can, one of the most romantic lines in the entire trilogy: "I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly."

And that leads me neatly to my first point: Baz wants to be gentle and kind with Simon, because that's what he thinks Simon needs and deserves. Gentleness and kindness are what Baz wants from Simon. That's how he thinks love should be. They've both seen and done horrible things, and he believes their love should offer a solace from all of that.

(That offering of solace is a theme throughout AWTWB. Slightly off topic, we see their bed become more and more such a sanctuary—perhaps the only place where the troubles of the outside world cannot reach them. @theflyingpeach has shared some beautiful thoughts on the bed's symbolism—their own Eden/paradise and a place where they help one another lay aside the burdens that could otherwise separate them. I've remarked before that Baz's childhood bedroom serves as a kind of refuge for them in CO in the midst of some truly steep trauma, so it was really lovely to see this kind of idea brought forward and deepened and expanded on in AWTWB in this way.)

Baz wants to give Simon kindness, safety, gentleness—three things he's been sorely deprived of in his life. When Simon is beside himself because Baz makes him a sandwich the way he likes, Baz responds internally with: "As if I wouldn't make the world spin backwards if I thought he'd like it better that way." Baz would give Simon anything, would do anything to make him happy. Baz wants to be a kind, caring, thoughtful boyfriend to the love of his life—who he knows is struggling with trauma and self-worth. All the while, Baz himself is also struggling big time with trauma and self-worth. (It's almost like they match.) It feels pretty logical that someone in Baz's place would look at Simon's struggle and wish to be soft and gentle—especially basing this logic on how he feels. He asks Simon to be gentle with him their first time together. Maybe that's because it's Baz's first time. Maybe that's because he wants to feel fragile instead of being reminded that he's an indestructible vampire. Maybe that's because gentle is just what he wants. Maybe it's all of the above. In this case, the reason isn't really important, but the fact that it's what Baz needs is. If it's how Baz needs to receive love, then it follows it's how he would give love. (Rainbow tagged a post about AWTWB shortly before the book was released with the Beatles' lyric: "and in end, the love you take is equal to the love you make". I don’t think that was by chance.)

All this is to say that the conversation Simon and Baz have before the parallel passages in question reveals that Simon isn't comfortable receiving love in this same way. He doesn't want gentle and kind and soft because he doesn't know how to process feelings like that. I'm going to do something different and tag the @youhearbiggirls podcast whose July 29 episode talked about this in a really great way (at 26:20)—including discussion of a message from Rainbow's now-deleted Twitter account. I was so happy to hear that old tweet being talked about, because I thought it was really great and was sad it was lost when Rainbow deleted her account. And! Because they mentioned the date of the tweet and people and the search function on discord are awesome, I was able to locate a screenshot someone shared!

The takeaway here is that Simon isn't programmed to accept love and kindness from others. His brain and his body have been conditioned for violence and fight or flight by trauma. He doesn't know how to accept or process good feelings and sensations, because to him, those sensations actually feel bad. They're foreign, and therefore frightening to him. That's why he feels like he has to flee when he's being physical with Baz—or, rather, I think, when Baz is trying to be physical with him. This is what Simon is attempting to express when he tells Baz that he doesn't "like that feeling. That, like, feathery feeling. Like, touch me or don't—but don't, like, whisper on me." Simon takes a huge step forward when he's able to finally verbalize this to Baz—it also goes a long way to allowing them to be physically intimate.

Baz's half of the parallel passage addresses this directly: "I kiss him back, squarely. Firmly. Matter-of-factly." This is Baz consciously making an adjustment in how he treats Simon to better give him the kind of love that Simon needs, the kind of love he asked for. His thoughts here reinforce this. "You're all I want" he tells Simon in his head, and he means it.

He understands much more about Simon now. He's seen more of who Simon is. And he still loves him. Simon—all of Simon—is still the only person Baz wants. "And you can have everything you need", Baz promises Simon. He's going to give Simon the kind of love and affection that Simon has asked for. He's going to be firm. He's going to kiss him squarely on the mouth, not softly. He's going to be direct and he's not going to let himself be scared or timid or shy away. Simon needs boldness and bravery and unequivocation. Baz is up to the task, and this is his way of showing that to Simon.

And then…! "I'm not sure what he's telling me with this kiss. I pretend it's Yes and Yes and Be kind to me."—Be kind to me.—Baz has admitted that he's "more used to guessing what Simon is thinking—what he's feeling, what he wants." He's once more trying to fill in those gaps in his mind, except this time, he actually understands Simon. They've finally gotten to a place where Simon is speaking for himself and Baz doesn't have to guess. The kiss comes immediately after Simon asks Baz to be less kind, and Baz has refused on the basis that it is exactly the opposite of what Simon needs, even if Simon doesn't see it that way. While Baz is kissing Simon—firmly, squarely, not in a new way, but definitely in a way he hasn't for a while—Baz is hoping that Simon will feel differently. That he'll feel good enough and safe enough with Baz to not only accept kindness, but to ask for it. To understand and internalize his need for kindness, and then to be able to accept it from Baz. For Simon, accepting kindness is being vulnerable, and as much as he loves Baz, he's not yet at a place where he feels safe and settled. He convinced himself early on that there was no security in their relationship, and he doesn't yet trust any security in his life—it's not something he's had to count on. So for Simon to ask Baz with his kiss to "be kind" would be monumental—it would be him undoing a lifetime of programming for violence and giving himself fully into their relationship and their future together.

Of course, we know what Simon is really telling Baz with his kiss. Onward to part two!

"You're all I want," Baz says, trying to convince Simon not to be jealous of Lamb. "Fine, you fucker. Have me. Just have me" then serves as Simon's response. In fact, this whole section seems to be in conversation with Baz—but more so the reconciliation scene than their preceding conversation.

Let's take a little trip back to Chapter 16. "If we do this", Baz says then of getting back together—of Simon trying—"I want the full Simon Snow treatment…I want the locked jaw. The squinty eyes. The shoulders." (I mean, same, Baz.) "I want you to slay a dragon before you give up on me, do you understand?...I want you to try everything before you give up on us again." If we start here, then I think we can trace these threads through directly to what Simon is thinking when he kisses Baz.

Baz wants the full Simon Snow treatment? "Fine", Simon says, "Have me. Just have me." Baz wants him to fight and "try everything" before he gives up? "Do your worst" is Simon's answer. "I thought you'd go down fighting if you believed in something…" Baz says. So, Simon responds with: "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." The kiss in Chapter 32 then becomes a rebuttal of sorts. It's Simon's closing argument. He's opened himself up to Baz and told him what he needs. He's "Use[d his] words" and now he's using his mouth the way he's most comfortable—kissing Baz. Kissing him fiercely and telling him everything he's feeling with it. More than that, it's his way of showing Baz—not just telling him—that he's going to keep his word. He's going to try now, and this is him trying for Baz. This is him meeting every challenge, every demand that Baz issued, and slaying them like dragons. He's going to fight, he's going to give his all, he's going to risk everything to make his relationship with Baz work this time. Simon asking Baz for what he needs was a major victory in his ongoing battle with insecurity and I think he's feeling buoyed by that, a swell of confidence that comes through in the fierceness of his thoughts.

I'd like to spend a little more time with the last line: "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." Let's look at this in terms of what we know of Simon. He needs fierceness, passion, violence to feel comfortable.

Both Simon and Baz are all or nothing in the way they think about each other and the love they feel, but I think we're seeing something else with Simon's "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." The first time he tells Baz that he loves him, Baz is shocked. He truly doesn’t believe that Simon is in love with him, and when he questions it, Simon's reasoning is: "I've killed so many things for you." And when Simon is facing off with the goblin, he lets the goblin get close because "The Mage taught me that sometimes the best way to get under someone's guard is to let them close." If violence is what Simon knows and understands, if that's what's comfortable to him, then it makes sense these are the terms in which Simon views everything, including his relationship with Baz. From his earliest moments under the Mage's control, Simon learned to think of himself as expendable. He was the Chosen One, a weapon, a blade to be kept sharp. He internalized the idea that he wouldn't live through the war and the Humdrum—he said "I’ll fight until I can't anymore". He spends most of his childhood with the belief that the greatest thing he will ever do is die—fall in battle saving the world. His highest aspiration in life is to sacrifice himself for the people he loves. I think this is at the heart of what he's thinking during that kiss with Baz: the way he knows best to prove his love to Baz is to offer him his life—"Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me."

I don't think Simon’s moved passed this way of thinking about himself & the price he thinks he has to pay to prove his love. (Further underscoring this, Baz tells him to “slay a dragon” and Simon is—probably—a dragon...) But I think this is so much of who Simon is at his core, beyond the manipulation he suffered at the Mage's hands, that he'll always play the hero because it's inherent to his nature. He does put himself into harm's way & lies to Baz to protect him. The good part in all this is that living a life of peace with Baz will present far fewer chances for Simon to put his life on the line in order to prove himself, and finally, someday, he'll realize that he doesn't have anything to prove. Until then, he'll keep trying for Baz in the best way he knows how.

Thanks so much for this ask!

As ever, if anyone has thoughts to add or other questions to ask, please do send them along. 😘

[bethdutten]

Hello!!!!! Are you doing well? If you don’t mind can we get an Arthur fic where he thinks you’re avoiding him but you’re actually super sick and unable to do practically anything?

hi!! i’m unstable lmao but i love arthur so absolutely

He must have done something. That was it, yeah. He noticed the way you hadn’t been coming into the betting show as much lately, how you turned down Polly’s dinner invitation and hardly ever came to the Garrison anymore.

It was that night. Almost three weeks ago now, at Tommy’s when Arthur drank too much again and pulled you into a dark corner, whispering, “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe I get to look at you every day, I could just—“ and he kissed you, unable to control himself after being in love with you from afar for months.

He could have sworn you kissed him back, but that must have been his imagination. The way you held his hand as you led him back to Tommy’s party, that must have been out of pity. The smile you gave him when you said good night, the brush of your hand across his cheek, that was all in his head.

When he looked up from his desk now, you were just entering the back offices, a handful of paper and your head down. Avoiding him again. He’d had enough.

“Oi, I need to talk to ya for a minute,” he called out to you, not caring if he sounded harsh.

You halted, turning to look at Arthur. “Um, sure. Everything okay?”

He just huffed, ushering you into his office and shutting the door. He didn’t need the whole damn company knowing you rejected him.

“Look, I know I overstepped that night and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he started, eyes cast downward as he leaned against the wall, “But you don’t need to avoid me, alright, I’m not going to try that shit again, I promise.”

You frowned, carefully putting your papers down on his desk. “Oh, no. Arthur, that’s not—“

He shook his head, straightening his jacket as he stood upright. “Nah, no need to explain, love. I got the hint, I’d rather not hear it.”

Stubborn as always, you realized this fool wasn’t going to listen to you. You’ll have to show him instead.

Closing the distance, you grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close, kissing him with as much intention as you could so he’d finally understand.

Arthur let out a surprised grunt, before wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly. When you pulled away to breathe with a laugh, you weren’t expecting tears in his eyes.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, what was that for?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing your thumb across a just-healing bruise under his eye. “I had the flu, Arthur. I’ve hardly been able to get out of bed for the last two weeks. I wasn’t avoiding you. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

Of course. Arthur just shook his head, wondering how much more of an idiot he could possibly be.

“Well, then, we have some catching up to do, don’t we, eh?”

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Kita Shinsuke

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. 

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: Any other characters you’d like to see? Send me an ask! 

You knew of Kita Shinsuke, certainly - at least from your gigging girlfriends.

He’s known for his stellar grades (second only to your own) and his reserve position as the keeper on the Hufflepuff team. 

You found him serious and studious when you partnered with him once or twice in class.

But otherwise, you weren’t well acquainted with him. 

That all changed when you were appointed head boy and head girl respectively, and had to share an office for prefectorial duties. 

‘Shall I get started on the disciplinary reports due this week, or draft the allocation of duties for the month?’ You ask him when you met him to split up the work for the first time. 

‘Neither, I’ve done them both’, he replies curtly. A stack of reports in his neat, square handwriting drops in your lap.  

‘Oh’, you say lamely, feeling a little redundant. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with then?’ 

He shakes his head, a clear dismissal as he turns back to his work. 

He’s too high-handed, you complain to your friends. He takes charge of all briefings, tries to refuse your help for most tasks, only accepting when you archly remind him that you’re his peer, not his subordinate. 

He’s infuriating, you continue to complain. He doesn’t have a spark of humour in his eyes when you try to joke around with him, he’s stern and harsh with the other prefects, who all end up protesting to you. And worst of all - his grades are catching up to yours, slowly, steadily - your pride doesn’t appreciate him nipping at your heels. 

 You don’t dislike him. But you don’t like him either. 

That is - until you’re two months into your final year, and you’re off on a solo round one night. 

Your mind was full of the entrance requirements for the Healer course that was just released this evening that you completely forgot where you were (the side staircase between the ground floor and the second floor is tricky, even the first years know that) and stuck your foot right into the vanishing stair.  

It’s a full moon tonight. Your foot is stuck in the stair. All incontrovertible facts. It’s so late that you’ve long given up hope of anyone rescuing you until dawn, so you crouch on the stairs, head huddled in your arms, prepared to camp here until dawn. 

Anyone, that is - save for one Kita Shinsuke. 

He clears his throat, rousing you from your nap, and though you glance up with hope, you end up deflating when you realise it’s him. 

‘You didn’t report back after your round’, he says, the faintest shadow of a smile on his face as he looks down on you, uniform rumpled, eyes heavy with sleep. 

‘I kinda got stuck’, you admit, letting him pull you up, and you mutter a resentful thanks when he frees you from the accursed stairs. 

‘I can see that’, he chuckles, and you blink owlishly. 

Kita Shinsuke, laughing? You must be hallucinating. 

Still, for all his flaws, he’s a gentleman, insisting on walking you back to Ravenclaw tower. It’s such a shock to your system to find that he’s actually human that you find the courage to voice out your long held complaint that he’s not letting you do enough work, that it makes you feel redundant. 

He apologises earnestly. ‘I didn’t mean to do that - I’ve been so used to just tryin’ to do everythin’ by myself that I forget I’ve a partner to help me with this’. 

You accept his apology with a laugh, wishing him farewell and goodnight. 

As you get ready for bed, your face heats up for some reason when you think about him referring to you as his partner. You’re glad he didn't pick up on it.  

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

That marks a turning point in your relationship with him. 

True to his word, Kita starts to treat you like his partner in all prefectorial tasks, splitting all tasks equally with you, seeking your counsel when he needs to. And you start to see why your friends giggled helplessly when you told them that he would be head boy, and would share an office with you. 

‘He’s hot!’ They protested, when you scolded them for being silly twits. 

And now, you have to agree - staring shamelessly at the sight of his broad shoulders filling out his quidditch uniform, his light grey hair tousled in the wind as he glides gracefully down on his broom towards you. 

‘Yachi-san forgot to get you to sign the report’, you tell him, waving the sheaf of papers at him. ‘And don’t scold her, she’s still terrified of you’. 

The younger girl still shakes whenever Kita speaks to her, and she even begged you on her knees to seek him out in her stead. You should be the one thanking her, you think amusedly, appreciating the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the proud curve of his neck as he signs the documents, giving you a wave as he returns back to practice. 

Then you discover he’s not as heartless as his demeanor led you to believe. 

‘Kita, what are on earth are you doing?’ You gasp at the sight before you. 

You heard some rustling in an empty classroom, and assuming it to be another amorous couple getting frisky (you would turn a blind eye, really but you’ve had to clean up after them far too many times for you to have lost your patience by now), you kicked the door open, only to be greeted by the absolutely adorable sight Kita Shinsuke surrounded by a whole gaggle of younger students seated in a circle around him. The younger kids giggle, and even Kita breaks into a smile. 

It turns out he’s been tutoring the weakest students in his downtime because, as he says - magic is hard for those not born into it, like him. Refusing to be left out, you join him in these tutoring sessions, cajoling him to hold it in your office, magicking up beanbags and cushions to make the entire tutoring session a much more comfortable affair. 

‘Well done!’ he exclaims in excitement as the shyest first year succeeds in casting a wingardium leviosa for the first time. 

‘Good work!’ he tells another second year approvingly, as she shows him her top marks for her transfiguration essay. 

Watching him take the whole brood of younger kids under his wing makes you look at him in a different light - a softer light, for the first time. 

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

‘Would you like to go to Hogsmeade together?’ you ask him after a prefects’ meeting, as you walk back to your office together to gather your things. You’ve practised far too long in front of the mirror to channel your inner Gryffindor (even though you’re at heart, a studious Ravenclaw) to mess this up. 

‘Sure’, he responds without skipping a beat, and you grin, fist pumping behind his back. 

But when you turn up at Hogsmeade, the entire batch of final year prefects is there too. 

‘It was a good idea to have a batch outing’, Kita says, as he turns around to chat with Kiyoko from Gryffindor. 

Kuroo from Slytherin, who you hear would’ve been head boy if Kita didn’t beat him out, grins knowingly as he notices the lip gloss you used specially for this occasion, and even kind, funny Aran from Gryffindor bumps your shoulder sympathetically as you look utterly downcast for the rest of the afternoon. 

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

You’re a Ravenclaw, for Merlin’s sake, so you take a hint, lick your injured pride, and stop any further romantic overtures towards one Kita Shinsuke. 

But when you notice his eyes growing tired, his hand faltering over another report he should’ve delegated to someone else, you shoo him stubbornly out of the office, pertly telling him it’s time to take his own advice and rest - or you’ll write to his grandma, and see if she doesn’t send him a howler to take care of himself. When he’s gone, you promptly take over the report, and in complete defiance of your own words to him, you keep yourself up all night finishing not just that report, but the rest of the reports on his plate for the week. 

It’s what a friend would do, you tell yourself, gritting your teeth and setting your quill viciously on an accounting report that bloody Daishou managed to push off to Kita instead of doing it himself. 

It’s dawn by the time you faceplant into the stack of reports you managed to plow through. 

‘Et tu, brutus’, he mutters when he finds you asleep on the desk the next morning, head still pillowed on the mountain of reports. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he gazes down at you, laughing softly when you shy away from his attempts to wake you.

‘Kita?’ you mumble, when he finally takes hold of your shoulder and gently shakes you awake. ‘Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep?’ 

Wait a minute. Is it morning already? 

You jolt awake, swiping the drool collecting at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, flushing red in embarrassment at cool, collected Kita catching you like this. This is a bloody nightmare - you grab at your things, making hurried excuses to leave the room when he catches your wrist. 

‘Would ya want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?’ 

‘With the rest of the prefects?’ you mumble shamefacedly, not even noticing that he doesn’t let go of your hand. ‘Sure, I guess.’

Kita laughs again. Twice in a day, you note distractedly. Did you miss something in Astronomy class about the stars aligning with Jupiter or something? 

‘Nope, just with me.’ He tugs you towards him, standing so close your ears flame bright red. You’re sure that if he takes a step closer, your ears might explode. 

‘Kita?’ you stammer, unsure if you’re awake or lost in your dreams. 

‘I owe you an apology’, he says, eyes trained on your lips. 

It definitely isn’t a dream because oh Merlin you can feel his breath fan against your lips. 

‘I only realised you were askin’ me on a date the last time after Aran set me straight. And I’ve been waitin’ for the right moment to ask you out to set matters straight.’

‘You don’t have to - ‘ you squeak, but your words are swallowed by his mouth slanting hungrily against yours and oh gods you’re one of those couples you have to book for making out in school, aren’t you - but does it count if you’re doing it in the head prefects’ office - and wait, does this mean you have to book yourself -  

Then you lose all train of thought when Kita swipes his tongue into the seam of your mouth. Clinging to him for dear life, you tangle your fingers in his hair. 

‘I want to’, he promises, when you separate for breath. 

Your mind is still blank as you nod dumbly, agreeing to meet him at the Great Hall next weekend. You’re still touching your swollen lips, completely distracted that you don’t even notice the squeals and whispers in the corridors when he walks you to class, hand in hand. 

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 

Just incredibly confused and upset. 

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

Flushed face. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 

Girlfriend. 

Shirtless. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 

Owen isn’t yours. 

Owen will never be yours. 

You’re just a friend. 

You’re just his PA. 

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 

“Always babes.” 

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 

What is that about? 

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?” 

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths. 

Be a friend. 

You’re a big girl. 

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 

I need Y/N to stay. 

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 

“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So. 

Close. 

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  

“Ash I -” 

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 

Deep breath. 

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 

“No, I have a lot to say -” 

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 

Deep breath. 

Do your job. 

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 

Deep breath. 

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 

My trailer plz. 

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 

He likes you. 

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 

And again. 

And again.