#although most single parents would not give details on who the person is until they knew it was gonna be permanent

[softestepilogue]

i like that christopher is cheering his dad on to date and ask people out. christopher is older now so he’s understanding that eddie cannot be alone forever. and that eddie is more than a parent he’s a person too. a person who wants romantic love and companionship. and eddie is learning that about himself too ! and i think it’s great that they’re learning that together.

[heliads]

I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together

please let me write for thg i love this request

masterlist

It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.

You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.

It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.

Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.

You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.

There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this:  first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?

Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.

After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.

You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.

Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.

Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?

Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.

You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.

Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.

And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.

After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.

Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.

If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.

On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.

Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.

On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.

Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”

You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”

“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”

You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”

This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.

Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.

At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”

You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”

Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”

She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”

Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”

“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”

This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.

“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.

When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.

And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.

She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.

Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[seven-oomen]

So i am almost up to 8500 words on Caught somewhere in time. I'm about to tackle the Attack of the clones part of the fic. And with that comes a new set of headcanons I'll be incorperating.

On Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Cal:

Obi-Wan almost left the order on two occasions: his relationship with Satine Kryze, and his choice to have Cal.

Anakin sees Cal as his little brother, though he is also torn on how to handle him, as a part of him sees Cal as competition for Obi-Wan's attention.

Cal's psychometry has gotten him into trouble more than once. But mostly because he either sees things people don't want him to see, or because he sees things that upset him greatly and he has panic attacks.

Cal's gift for chaos and crawling through vents were inherited from Obi-Wan. As is his gift for reading people and their intentions.

Cal has inherited a rather unexpected ability from his sperm donor, namely the ability to sharpshoot with a blaster pistol.

Padmé and Cal team up against Anakin. And although Anakin complains and whines that he is not happy about this, he secretely relishes in the absolute chaos that Padmé and Cal cause.

On Stewjon:

The planet stewjon is like space Florida. It has mangroves, swamps, that eventually roll out into grasslands and even has some forest. There's a lot of water on the planet, though it is inhabited by all sorts of predatory fish and reptiles, and even beaches or lakes are not that safe to swim in.

There's also plenty of farmland on the planet, and some of the larger cities are packed with resorts, hotel chains, and tourist attractions. Though further inland there's a lot of poverty and people barely scraping by.

The mangrove trees are harvested for their valuable Oljohn wood. It is specifically useful for making jewelry and wooden figurines, or detailing work.

Stewjoni are a people that are intersex by nature. As such, their entire concept of gender and sexuality are very different from more traditional planets. (By our earth standards).

A person who carried a baby is referred to as mom, regardless of their gender. A person who sired the baby is referred to as dad.

Their phenotype is determined by chromosomes, XX gives someone a masculine phenotype, XY gives someone a feminine phenotype.

(I deliberately changed this, do not come for me in the comments.)

Stewjoni can breed with humans, like Twy'leks, and their biology is a dominant trait over our human biology.

Many stewjoni come out with their gender around the age of 16, some do this earlier. Until that time, many Stewjoni address their children in a neutral way, or choose to adhere to their phenotype presentation until the child determines otherwise.

Stewjoni sometimes choose to single parent, and like Naboo, there is no taboo on sperm donors or artificial insemination. It's seen as a perfectly acceptable road to take.

There's also no taboo on abortion or birth control. When the entire population is intersex, and resources can be scarce, you also need ways to control the population.

-

On Jedi:

There were many Jedi in the order that had some form of attachment to others, though those active in the order also made sure that a. the council didn't find out about those attachments, and b. that the attachments didn't interfere with their duty.

Some Jedi also chose to have children. If the Jedi stayed within the order and agreed to its terms, the children would be brought to the temple on Coruscant and were raised there. The Jedi parents would have visitation rights and could see their children at most once a month, preferably less. If a child was not force sensitive by age 3, they would finish their time in the clan and by age 13 be sent to one of the corps. (Agricorp, medcorp, educorp, exploration corp).

If a child was force sensitive they would stay for training among a clan and by age 9 go to Ilum for the crystal ceremony. By age 13 they would be chosen as a Padawan by a knight or master that was NOT their parent. If they're not chosen, they too would go to the corp.

This caused some form of tension within the order, as quite a few (parental) members found the rules unfair or downright cruel.

Any Jedi that did not agree to the terms of having children within the order would be excommunicated and stripped of their rank. They would however be given supplies and credits to get them on their feet. The Jedi are strict and stifled, but fair and supportive with old members.

Children of Jedi that were Padawan learners or corp members were given ways to contact their Jedi parent once a month to keep in touch. At the age of 18 these children were given a choice to continue service or to cut ties with the order.

-

And since it's now 2 am I'll leave it at this.

[atombombbaby]

Starfield Rant

My ONE big splurge of the year (I allow myself one splurge a year because of all our debt we're trying to pay off)--bought before I got so sick and realized we were going to have to return to the US--and it turns out to be the most poorly-written game I have ever played.

I could have gotten Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption, The Last of Us, Horizon Zero Dawn, Persona 5, or a couple or three of those put together for what it cost to pre-order Starfield.

Starfield has so much going for it in so many ways, and I was so excited, because I'd been waiting for YEARS for it to release. And I do enjoy certain aspects of it, but oh, my Sagan the writing is SO BAD! It'll probably be the last Bethesda game I purchase--at least until they get a competent head writer.

Look, I'm pretty generous with hand-waving stuff away, but how do you make a space game without even knowing the difference between a planetary system and a galaxy? How do you write ANYTHING without any attention at all to verisimilitude? How can you not know the difference between a transcript and a recording? How do you write a world with equipment that can do detailed genetic and cellular tissue analysis in seconds, but not have a single biologist figure out that the most ubiquitous in-game pest and the most-feared hostile creature are the same species?

How do you accidentally make a supposedly sympathetic character into a monster who abandons their crew on a hostile world for twenty years (resulting in the deaths of all crash survivors and the orphaning of the daughter of two survivors), when said character knows exactly how to find them--because the character "just can't face their past?" (She indicates she knew there might be survivors, but even if she thought they all died, you always MAKE SURE. The UC Navy is complicit here, as well.)

It goes beyond that, too. Sarah's entire quest is written in a way that makes her seem like a villain. First, if the real issue was "facing her past," all she had to do was tell someone, "Hey, the location of the other shuttle is on the computer in the shuttle I crashed in. Go rescue them or recover their remains." But she didn't tell anyone.

Then also notice that Sona talks about how excited she was to leave with the Crimson Fleet pirates and how she cried when they left without her, but goes into a screaming tirade when Sarah offers to take her away, although she is adamant--but not convincing--when she goes out of her way to declare her parents' admiration for Sarah and how Sarah did nothing wrong.

Conclusion: Sarah did something awful, was willing to sacrifice her crew to keep anyone from finding out, and was only willing to be pushed into checking on them twenty years later because she assumed they'd all be dead by then. This entire quest is written exactly the way I'd write it if I wanted to make clear (without directly stating it), that Sarah was an evil person who was, perhaps not willing to kill to keep her secret, but was perfectly willing to ALLOW multiple people she could have saved by speaking a single sentence to die rather than have that secret revealed.

And all you'd have to do to fix it is make it so Sarah was found AWAY from her campsite, and her own shuttle wasn't found until just now, and she was offered a chance to be the one to check on it. Or make it so the data isn't on her computer, but somehow now, after twenty years, Sona accidentally tripped and emergency beacon that her parents never activated because they didn't know the war was over. There are other solutions; I'm just saying it would be easy for any halfway competent writer to not fuck this up.

There's other stuff just in that one quest that is way off, and outside of that quest, I could easily give a hundred or more other examples off the top of my head of just lazy, objectively bad writing that any creative writing teacher (or any competent editor) would circle in red with some polite variation of, "WTF?" The ONLY good thing about the writing is the punched-up dialogue. That's it.

I mean, Skyrim has a lot of basic mistakes, too (like not knowing the difference between seep and steep), but with Starfield, it appears that Bethesda has just completely given up on any semblance of decent writing. I'd put the writing on the level of, say, the old Power Rangers shows, except that would be an insult to those who wrote for those shows.

Then again, Emil Pagliorulo (Bethesda's "writing director") has zero qualifications as a writer. I personally know at least a dozen authors (some critically-acclaimed, award-winning, and best-selling) who could do a better job, but who have to keep non-writing day jobs to make ends meet while this jackass gets paid for a job he's nowhere remotely qualified for. Hell, Pagliorulo has publicly declared his disdain for the very idea of trying to write well, saying that if you give the players a book, they will just "tear out the pages and make paper airplanes."

Like, dude, that just means you need to get some chops and write a better book.

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

            Violet Jung, a 27 year old daughter of Izanami.             She is a flower arranger at Blossoms of Yggdrasil.

FC NAME/GROUP: Jung Wheein/Mamamoo CHARACTER NAME: Violet Jung AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 17th April 1995 PLACE OF BIRTH: Jeonju, South Corea OCCUPATION: Flower Arranger at Blossoms of Yggdrasil, Flower Shop HEIGHT: 159cm / 5’3” WEIGHT: 43kg / 95 lbs DEFINING FEATURES: 10+ small tattoos of flowers/bouquets, placed on her shoulder, arms, legs and one flower bracelet tattoo on her right wrist.

PERSONALITY: Usually very open-minded and friendly, Violet has been told multiple times that she is the personification of a flower child. She is often the first to initiate a conversation and therefore never experienced hardships in finding friends. This being said, she is also very clumsy and either struggles to remember or mixes up details and therefore oftentimes struggles to deepen relationships with others, Platonic or otherwise.

HISTORY: Violet’s father was a history teacher and a passion for languages, unspoken or not. Or at least that was what she was told. To be honest, she has never consciously met her father or her birth mother for that matter. He was born with a heart defect that, while it was incurable, was treatable but he unfortunately succumbed to it after an unsuccessful surgery. Violet was barely three years old by then. Occasionally, she would get flashbacks of his face. Although, she wasn’t entirely sure if her brain was making up memories based on pictures and stories.

Up until a while ago, she knew nothing about her birth mother, other than that her parents agreed that she would find out all information she’d need from her father as soon as she would be old enough to understand. Due to his untimely passing, however, this was not possible anymore. In all honesty, however, Violet rarely thought of her parents and who they might be or how her life would be if they were still part of her life. Her life felt perfect just the way it was.

At least it did until a few years ago.

Most of her life, Violet stayed with her paternal aunt, a pilot and single mother of a daughter. She was strong, fierce, funny and frequently changed from Violet’s favorite to second-favorite person, depending on the day. The other person in question was Scarlett, Violet’s cousin. The three of them made an invincible trio. Bound by blood and best friends by choice. Monthly game nights and movie parties only thickened their bond.

She was happy, she loved her family, and the daughter of Hathor could see herself live in the small house on the outskirts of town for the rest of her life.

If she could, Violet would give anything she had to get that life back. But destiny can sometimes be cruel.

Only a day before the trio was set out to travel to Albany, New York, Violet found a letter addressed to her in her aunts mess of a document folder. She wasn’t snooping per se, but rather looking for her tickets for her flight that she must have misplaced so horribly that she still wasn’t able to find them to this day, even if she tried. Her name on the letter—she quickly realized—was far from the rushed but elegant handwriting that her aunt used and it looked vastly different from Scarlett’s rounded lettering as well. It was from her father.

The letter explained who he was and what he was like, and how much he adored her the second he saw her. By that point, she was already tearing up. Violet read on and learned about the agreement between her parents. How she was to stay with her father, how she was set to find out about her mother, how she came to live with her aunt. As if he could predict whatever would happen to her, her father explained through his words that she would grow up to be his pride and become independent, smart, and brave under her aunt’s care. Her tears were only another word away from falling. While she was touched by the words her father had for her, the tears weren’t only filled with sorrow for whom she lost. They were filled with anger of the betrayal, rage for the secrecy and hate for the lies that her aunt fabricated. How could she not tell her? Why did she keep it from her? The letter congratulated Violet to her eighteenth birthday. That day has already passed by nearly a decade. She was owed the truth.

Yes, destiny can be cruel sometimes.

Violet knew better than to approach her aunt in the stage of rage that she felt, but as if she was trapped in a sad sitcom episode, she didn’t have to. The missing ticket in hand, her aunt’s triumphant smile quickly fell as soon as she opened the door and recognized the handwriting on the letter Violet was holding. To this day, Violet still hates the mean words and the anger she let out at both her aunt and Scarlett, who was apparently also aware of the letter and its contents. And to this day, she still blames herself for what happened the following day.

After what felt like an endless fight, she finally decided to take the few following days to sort her feelings back home, while the others would go to her aunt’s work and subsequent vacation trip. Their neighbors would later go on to say that this decision was the best one Violet could have made. The demigoddess, on the other hand, begged to differ. At some point, about eight to ten hours into the flight, there was turbulence and strong winds. Paired with a previously undetected engine error, there was no way for her aunt to steer the plane to safety.

Perhaps it truly was turbulence, maybe there was an engine failure or even human error, but whatever it was, Violet was certain that the plane crash could have been avoided if she hadn't read that letter. It’s an irrational thought, but grief sometimes didn’t have to be rational to hurt.

The worst pain lasted for nearly twenty-four hours every day for almost six months. And while Violet is sure that this pain would never fully go away and she still woke up some nights screaming in cold sweat just to cry herself back to sleep, she felt better. It took another three months to finally continue on with her life and do what she was told by the letter to do, the day before the plane set off: Find Mount Phoenix and learn more about her mother.

PANTHEON: Japanese CHILD OF: Izanami POWERS: Necromancy and minor creation, like being able to make the flowers bloom. STRENGTHS: open-minded, friendly, independent, vast knowledge of flowers (she often assigns flowers to a person she meets in her head, depending on the aura the person radiate and how she feels about them) WEAKNESSES: stubborn, clumsy, very absentminded to the point where she would forget certain details that have been shared with her, gets bored easily

[hannihoney]

kim minjeong x fem reader

content warning: college au, angst, swearing, slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, sensitive topics like divorce, reader is pretty much emotionless until minjeong comes in her life, roomie minjeong, emotional conflicts, reader’s first time doing anything, cunnilingus, fingering

a/n : i’m happy to say that this is my first fic on this blog and i hope you enjoy <3

word count : 4.4k

requested : yes

“Fuck you! I can’t believe that you would do this to me after we’ve been married for ten years. We have a child!”

Loud noises and voices filled your senses, your parents were arguing again, but this time it seemed different. Even though you were young, you were not oblivious. By looking at their expressions you could tell that they were angry, but something about your mom’s face made you wonder if there was an emotion that was more extreme than anger.

Although you were only a child, you were heavily affected by your parents’ divorce settlement. At that time, you had no idea what caused your mom to take you away to a whole knew house, eat different meals, change schools, and eventually gain a new dad (which you were still indifferent to). Maybe it was because things got too loud when they were together, it did start to give you headaches.

Everything in your life changed in what seemed like just a snap of a finger. As you grew up, you became cold to the outside world. You were angry and confused as to why your father was taken from you. Well, you learned as a teenager that they split up because your dad had cheated on your mom with some dumb bitch from his work office, but it’s whatever.

High school felt like a big blur of numbness. Friends were something you were lacking, but that was by choice. Throughout your childhood and transformation into adulthood you learned to never trust anyone. Who knows how long those friends will even last? Who knows that if you had a partner they wouldn’t cheat on you and cause a messy breakup?

You weren’t dumb though. You knew that your feelings are impacted from your trauma as a kid, but you brushed it off once you realized that people were just there to hurt feelings and break hearts. That way, you didn’t even need to question if you wanted friends, or a relationship. You already know the truth about the world, so you thought.

Now, you have been accepted into your dream university. Although things were going smoothly in the right direction so far, you couldn’t help but feel conflicted about the anoint of people that will be attending the school this year. You felt a bit strange, but that emotion couldn’t be pinpointed after most emotions have been blocked out from your consciousness.

After begging your mom to pick a single room in the dorms, you were quickly humbled after discovering that such things didn’t exist. You had to have a roommate. Through the entirety of your life you were mostly fearless, but now you’re being forced to spend a whole 4 years with a person you’ve never met before. A weird feeling hit your chest. Was it anger? Or perhaps being what they call, nervous?

Many thoughts and scenarios filled your mind, you were overthinking, something that you haven’t done since you moved houses after the incident. It wasn’t clear why completely normal human interaction at a university was so intimidating to you, but you felt small when you shakily entered the new room.

Quick eyes darted around to observe every little detail. Kitchenette, small dining table with… two chairs, small couch with a small tv, couch only has room for about… two people. There were only two more doors so you naturally assumed that they were separate bedrooms, thank the lord. You let out a relieved sigh before turning the knob to one of the doors. Swinging the door open, you were expected to be met by a small and intimate room, but you were met with a… bathroom?

“Hey! You must be my roommate. I mean i would hope so since you’re looking at the place very intensely.”

Once the voice that wasn’t yours hit your senses, your heart began to beat abnormally fast. Are you nervous? You’ve never been nervous before, just very cold and locked away from the world and other humans. Shaking away the questions in your head, you tried to compose yourself before turning to the source of sound. There was a girl standing in the other doorway. A very pretty girl.

“Hi, I’m Minjeong. Kim Minjeong.”

The pretty girl softly spoke with a smile of her face. You looked down slightly to see an extended arm and an open hand. Oh god, you’ve never shook hands with anyone before. How do you shake hands again?

“Hey… I’m y/n. Nice to meet you Minjeong.”

Shit, you forgot to put any emotion of your face or your monotone voice. It’s like you were on some emotionless default setting. Your cold hand awkwardly reached for hers and wrapped around, it was warm. She sweetly smiled as you both shook hands. Or well, she shook your hand, you might’ve forgot to move after her warmth reached your icy hand.

“Nice to meet you too, y/n.”

Something was happening to you, your face felt like it was heating up as your heartbeat began to almost hurt from its intensity and speed. Are you okay? Maybe you’re sick. Oh shit, you don’t want to get her sick if you’re not feeling well. You reluctantly pulled your hand back, initially shocking her. You take note of this as you swiftly correct yourself.

“S-Sorry. I’m just, not feeling that well. I don’t want to get you sick or anything…”

Look at anything but her, that’s what you told yourself. The floor was a nice contender, that was until she took a few steps closer to you, soft slippers shuffling across the wood floor. You almost gasped when her hand lifted up to rest itself against your blazing cheeks and forehead. The pretty girl is really close, a bit too close.

“Oh no, you’re burning up.” Minjeong frowned as she continued to check the temperature of your red face.

Cute. You think she’s cute. But why? You have never found anything cute before, not even a small puppy, not since you were a kid.

You felt like you were about to pass out, feeling quite pathetic since all she did was check your temperature and you were borderline having a panic attack, but it’s whatever.

“Here, come sit down and I’ll get you some medicine.”

“It’s okay. I think I’m oka-“

She suddenly dragged you by the arm and sat you down on one of the dining chairs. You felt like a child again, like she was your mom taking care of you. You felt safe in a way, something you haven’t felt since you were… a kid. It seems there is a pattern, Minjeong was making you feel things you haven’t felt in almost your entire life. But how?

“Here y/n, take this.” Minjeong spoke softly to you as she handed over a glass of water and a couple of pills which you assumed to be advil.

The corners of your lips turned up into a shy smile. While picking up the glass you thanked her and used the water to help swallow the medicine. After setting the cup back onto the table, she gently grabbed your hand, leading you towards the other room you have yet to explore.

As the two of you walked past the door frame, you were greeted with half the room being covered in ivory decorations and posters of who you presumed to be her favorite singers. The other side was blank and you knew that it was your side of the room.

“You don’t have to go all out like i did, but i thought it would be nice to make myself at home since we’re going to be living together for a while.”

You hummed softly as she continued to explain her decoration choice. This isn’t too bad. Maybe it was a good thing to finally talk to someone all these years.

As time passed, you found that you and Minjeong surprisingly had a lot in common. This made it easy to talk to each other. Conversations no longer felt uncomfortable or forced to you, at least when you talked to her.

You also found yourself frequently doing things together. She offered to tour around the school together, and she even offered to walk you to your classes. You haven’t felt this cared about by anyone who wasn’t your mother, it was strange to you.

Soon enough, interactions within the school turned into fun activities outside of it. She would often ask if you wanted to go to the movies, or take a walk at her new favorite park, or even go out to eat together.

When being with her, you just feel so happy. This girl would never fail to make you laugh or smile, and you found yourself naturally feeling close to her. Is this what having a friend was like?

Although you felt a bit regretful about refusing to meet anyone new in the past, you couldn’t help but be extremely grateful to have a friend you cared about in the present. Minjeong had completely shifted your once cold and lay-low world into a bright and sunny one.

As your friendship with her developed even farther, you started to become afraid. You were afraid because Minjeong was beginning to make you feel something strange. You often found yourself gazing at her for extended periods of time, and she would make your heart pang faster than normal. She suddenly made you nervous even though you have been friends for a solid amount of time now.

Why are you nervous? Maybe your body is starting to reject her in a way. But why? She’s your friend, you can’t lose that now, the only thing that made your life worth living.

Hundreds of questions and doubts floated by, but you pushed them aside when Minjeong came back and sat down across from you.

“Here’s yours y/n. I’ve never met someone who likes cotton candy flavored ice cream, I’ll have to try some.”

Minjeong spoke with a smile as she handed you the cup of cotton candy ice cream you ordered at the counter. The two of you were enjoying a nice ice cream shop getaway after a long week of uni. You thanked her and began to eat your frozen treat.

The girl in front of you reached across the table and glided her spoon into your blue ice cream, successfully stealing a bite. The action made you two giggle as she ate it off of her spoon and hummed at the taste.

“It’s very good, I like it y/n. Oh- you’ve got something on your lips.”

You looked at her like a deer in headlights as she took a napkin and gently wiped the stray ice cream off the corner of your mouth. She retracted her hand and let out a light giggle.

“There, all better.”

The feeling was back again, but this time you smiled uncontrollably. It was still out of nervousness, but it almost felt like a good thing. The small silence was broken when she began to speak.

“I have to tell you something y/n. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now but I needed to find the right time. I think now’s a good time and I can’t wait any longer.”

You were a bit stunned by this. What did she have to tell you? You hoped it wasn’t bad, or maybe you did something wrong perhaps. You just nodded and maintained eye contact, letting her know to continue.

“I really like you y/n, and i want to be something more than just friends, if you want that too.” She bit her lip in anticipation, nervous for what you had to say.

Her words had a hard time sinking in your mind. You honestly couldn’t really tell what she meant, mostly because no one has ever told you this before.

“More than friends..?” Your confusion was obvious to Minjeong and she explained further.

“Yeah, like you know, girlfriends.” She was now shyly smiling.

You could vaguely pinpoint the emotion you were recently feeling while around her. Maybe you liked her too? Everything was unfamiliar, but you knew a thing or two about romantic interests just from watching a few shows, even though you didn’t necessarily understand it.

Many thoughts swam in your head, most of them were just trying to understand what she meant. But you know what she means, you’re just overthinking.

Ultimately, you decided that you reciprocated the feelings she had presented to you on this winter night. You liked her too.

“Minjeong, I…” You slightly hesitated, and this didn’t go unnoticed to her.

Her heart dropped. Maybe she had scared you off. Or maybe you didn’t feel the same way and she had made you uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl into a hole and shame herself for possibly ruining a perfectly good friendship.

“…I would like that. I like that idea.”

Minjeong’s face lit up and you couldn’t resist having the same reaction. She let out a relieved sigh and held your hand in hers.

And that’s when the next chapter of your life sprung into action.

You and Minjeong were now dating and things couldn’t be better. She held your hand everywhere the two of you went, and you loved it, her hands were so soft and comforting. She would frequently take you out on fun dates that she thinks you’ll enjoy, as well as spending quality time alone in your dorm together. She was everything you could ever hope and wish for.

When she is feeling particularly happy in a day, she would run around with a grin on her face and brag about how amazing her girlfriend was. When she is feeling defeated and sad, she would hold you closer when you hugged her and cry softly into your shoulder.

When those dark moments would appear, something inside you automatically knew how to comfort her. You would hold her tightly and tell her that everything will be okay, and you would leave soft kisses on her cheeks and lips while wiping her tears away. It was those moments she cherished the most.

But there was something that stood out to you, and that was the events that were currently happening.

It was quiet for a moment. The only thing that could be heard was steady breaths and quick heartbeats. You don’t remember how you got here, but you were laid down on Minjeong’s bed with her hovering above you. She held your waist gently with one hand. You observed her pretty eyes as they darted down to somewhere lower on your face.

You could feel something in the air shift when she licked her lips. She looked like she wanted to eat you whole. With hooded eyes and parted lips, she looked up into your eyes once more before closing her own and leaning in, closing the gap. Everything felt surreal at this very moment.

Her lips felt so soft against yours. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her beginning to move. This felt way too good. You never expected kissing to be this good.

It started off slow. You felt fluttering in your stomach as she kissed you. You have heard about the saying ‘Butterflies in your stomach’ before, but you never really understood what it meant, until now.

Your eyebrows furrowed when she introduced her hot tongue to yours. Things were becoming messy now. Wet smacks and soft moans could be heard in the quiet room. After a few minutes of softly making out, she broke the kiss to catch a breath, a small trail of saliva connecting you two. She then began to kiss across your jawline and down your neck.

Minjeong feverishly left sloppy kisses down your neck, leaving marks and bruises causing a whine to slip out of your mouth. She focused back onto your lips as her hands fumbled with the drawstrings of your pajama pants. Once she successfully untied the string, her warm hand slipped inside and underneath your panties. The air was getting thicker as your breaths became heavier.

Things were going too fast for your brain to register. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never done this before and you were starting to panic.

“M-Minjeong wait.”

The girl on top of you immediately drew her hand back and looked at you in concern.

“Shit, I’m so sorry y/n. Was i going too far?” Minjeong was on the verge of rambling but she caught herself in order to listen to your response. Her heart was racing as she was afraid that she had crossed a line.

“It’s noting. I’m just, a little nervous. I’ve never done this before…” Your voice was shaky as you confessed to her.

Minjeong was shocked. She was shocked that a beautiful girl like you had never had sex before, she thought you were a pretty good kisser but maybe you were just a natural at it. But nothing to worry about. Even though Minjeong was extremely horny and wanted to devour you, she was also very understanding and sweet.

“Hey, it’s okay yn. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m totally okay with just kissing or even doing something else non sexual.”

She melted your cold heart. You’ve discovered a new emotion at this very moment. A feeling that you have never experienced throughout your life, not even when you were younger. You felt like you wanted to be around her at all times, or that you wanted to kiss her forever, or tell her that you loved her.

Wait, what is this feeling?

“No it’s okay, I really want this. I just think…” You trailed off, hesitating to wisely choose your next words.

She waited patiently and watched you with a soft expression, urging you on to continue. You were about to step into unfamiliar territory, but you are ready now.

“I love you Minjeong.”

Warmth. Warmth was all the both of you felt.

“I… I’ve never loved anyone before, but i know I’m in love with you Minjeong.”

To say you were a bit nervous was a god damn understatement. You just admitted to feeling something you’ve never felt before to the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You felt like you were about to explode when she didn’t respond back.

After a great deal of silence and you awkwardly darting your eyes across the room, she carefully held your chin with her hand and tilted your head up, planting a soft kiss onto your lips once more.

This time it felt different though. Deeper might be the word to describe it. It felt deeper. It felt like all of her own emotions were being poured out in just that one kiss. There was something in particular that felt more prominent.

Love.

Everything felt right now. Was this the secret to life you have been locking away from yourself within your own consciousness? You never knew such a strong feeling could exist in your heart, but here it is being revealed by Minjeong.

She leaned back a bit and rested her forehead against yours, staring into your eyes that were staring right back.

“I love you too. So much.”

A wave of happiness crashed over you as you leaned in to kiss her once more. Now it was exciting, passionate even. Your mind was reeling with thoughts of her, only her. You wanted her and she wanted you back, so badly. She resumed back to her previous actions and let her lips trail further down your clavicle.

“Can i take this off?” Her hands her hovering over the hem of your shirt.

You eagerly nodded and lifted your arms over your head so she could remove the piece of clothing that was blocking her view from your gorgeous breasts. She softly moaned when she laid eyes onto your plump mounds, her mind hazy from arousal. Her hands slid over the sensitive skin of your waist and up to your bare chest.

You were nervous and on edge as she moved to gently squeeze your chest with her hands. Your body involuntarily jolted at the sensation. So this is what it feels like to be touched in those areas, it feels nice.

Things escalated quickly as she was soon sucking on your nipples while you whined and moaned. It felt so good whatever she was doing. All you could do was grip the pillow your head was resting on and let Minjeong do whatever she wanted with you.

Not after long, you started to feel hot and wet down there. You knew what sex was, you’re not dumb, but you’ve never touched yourself before so you have no idea what it feels like. It suddenly felt too hot in your pants, but Minjeong fixed that.

She planted light kisses down your abdomen and stopped when she reached her destination. She licked her lips in anticipation and dug her fingers into the waistband of your bottoms. With almost being lost in complete lust, her senses were swiftly regained once she remembered that you were a virgin.

While looking up at you with awaiting eyes, she made one last confirmation. “Are you sure about this baby? I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”

Something within those words made heat rush down to your core once again. What was she going to do to you? There was only one way to find out.

“Yes I’m sure. Please touch me Minjeong, it feels hot down there.”

You’re too cute for her, fucking adorable even. Something about you triggered her to rip your pants and panties down, leaving you completely naked and bare. She slid her hands under your thighs and pushed them apart, revealing your dripping cunt. It was all too much for her. Before you could even begin to predict her next move, she dove in.

It was unlike anything else. It was beyond heavenly. Minjeong held you close to her as she drank up all of your juices. You let out a loud moan of her name when her tongue circled over your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body.

Your hand instinctively reached to push her head closer when she started to suck on the small nub. Loud pants and whines could be heard along with the sinful noises from your girlfriend in between your legs. Your hips began to move on their own, chasing her mouth even though it wasn’t going anywhere.

Short after she started, you felt a tight knot in your tummy. The feeling only caused your eyes to roll back. You didn’t know what was about to happen, it felt like the knot was about to burst.

“Minjeong wait, please stop, I feel weird. My tummy feels so weird.”

Your girlfriend ignored your cries and please and continued to eat you out like she was starving. She didn’t expect you to last long, but it was just another thing that made you even fucking cuter to her. She sped up her movements and feverishly ate your cunt to encourage your first orgasm. You rolled your hips against her face, feeling closer and closer to your inevitable peak until…

The knot snapped. The knot snapped and everything felt ten times stronger. You practically screamed out her name as your body convulsed. Your pussy and your abdomen clenched over and over again. Tears prickled at the side of your eyes as you felt winded, you gasped for air. Your girlfriend slowly circled your clit with her tongue, helping you ride out your orgasm.

Minjeong ran a hand along your lower stomach to calm you down and bring you back to reality. You let go of her pretty hair and your hand retreated back to the bed. She swallowed every last drop and eventually pulled back while licking any remaining juices off of her own lips.

“How was it baby? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You couldn’t even speak. Your body was still twitching lightly as you stared at each other. A smirk grazed her features before she stuck two of her fingers into her mouth, properly preparing them for the next movement of your pleasure. You blinked curiously as she eased a finger into you.

It hurt at first, but soon the pain faded as she smoothly moved in and out of you while kissing and leaving marks all over your thighs. The pleasure only doubled when she squeezed the second one in, thoroughly stretching out the pussy she’s claiming as hers now. It all felt too good.

“I-It’s too much Minjeong. I can’t.” You whined out and sobbed as you covered your eyes with your arm.

It felt so good it almost hurt, it was too much, but Minjeong didn’t care. She wanted to see her baby come undone one more time before she’s satisfied.

Her long fingers only deepened their strokes and curled inside your sensitive pussy. Her mouth drifted back down and found its way onto your clit once again. That was the final straw. You felt the now familiar knot come back as she assaulted your swollen cunt.

“M-Minjeong, I feel weird again. Feels so good, please don’t stop.”

She smirked at the sound of you slowly becoming addicted to her touch. She never missed a beat or slowed down, desperate to make you reach your peak once more. She gave one last lick to before sitting up to meet you in a sloppy kiss.

Her thumb circled your puffy clit as her fingers thrusted at a steady pace. You moaned against her lips, a new set of tears falling down your cheeks as your orgasm ripped through you. You broke the kiss and held her close, gasping as she bit down onto your shoulder, the pain only adding to the pleasure.

Your cunt clenched around her fingers rhythmically, your body followed a similar pattern with jerks and twitches. You let out a satisfied moan before falling limp onto her bed. Your high slowly subsided and you felt a sudden rush of exhaustion fall over you.

With tired eyes, you watched Minjeong pull her digits out and enter them in her mouth, humming at the taste.

“Mmmm, I like this flavor more than any dumb ice cream flavor. You’re so fucking delicious y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy comment before pulling her down to cuddle you. She held on to her stupid grin and softly kissed your forehead before pulling away and lifting your achy body up.

“Okay baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”

So this is your conclusion, your awakening. There is something deeper in life, and there is something more to feel than numbness. There’s love. And you found the love of your life, Kim Minjeong.

[localcactushugger]

Does anyone else ever get sad thinking about the abuse Hawks went through as a kid? Because I keep making myself sad thinking about it.

It's so many different kinds of fucked up that just mixed together and created one huge toxic environment.

#1) The physical abuse.

Right off the bat, Chapter 299 starts with Keigo getting hit by his father for leaving the house. It doesn't actually show Keigo being smacked, instead it shows a panel of their "home". (although it's extremely small and looks more like a broken down shack in a field to me)

But the sound of the "smak" is very much punctuated in the panel, followed by Keigo hunched over with marks on his face:

The marks on his face are prevalent. Even in the smaller panel, Keigo still has a very obvious bruise under his eye and above his eyebrow.

THEN he gets kicked in the side/stomped on for "turning his back" on his father?? (Aka doing nothing. Literally what did he do?? Wtf?):

He's getting smacked and kicked around, but instead of crying or getting upset he just endures. Which brings me to:

#2) The Emotional and verbal abuse. (Strap in cause there's a lot of it.)

Keigo apologizes after his father kicks him for no reason, then he curls up into a ball, clings to his Endeavor plushy, and listens as his own father rants about how much he wishes that Keigo was never born.

^^^^^^^ LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID ASSHOLE. HE'S LITERALLY CLINGING TO HIS PLUSHY FOR COMFORT!! WHY ISN'T ANYONE HUGGING HIM??? CAN I HUG HIM??

Keigo says that he knew his parents were broken, so he endured because he wanted to avoid their fate.

Basically: "I know my parents are broken, but need to endure because I don't want to become broken too."

That's a horrible mindset for a child to have?? He's basically saying that he just needs to take the abuse and hope that he doesn't break because of it?

And I don't know how he wouldn't break from it with the way his parents talk to him, and all the horrible things they say:

The constant screaming/yelling. Like Shit.

"Don't do a damn thing!" " Who did you sell me out too?? You can't fool me!!" "Don't leave this house!" "Don't you dare lie to me!!" "Don't go talking to anyone!!" "You thought you'd get away with it didn't you??"

"How many times have I told you not to turn your back on me??"

"If only that punk was never born I'd be free."

"Why were you even born?" "Why do you even have those wings?"

He's gotten it from both parents. And every time it happens he just hugs his plushy a little tighter.

#3) The neglect.

In pretty much all panels of Keigo's home theres Trash everywhere. If you go back and look at the house there isn't a single panel without some kind of trash in the frame. I see beer bottles, wine bottles, wooden planks, trash bags, newspapers, dirty rags, dirty laundry hanging from the wall & hangers, floor boards coming up, leaks from the top of the walls.

The "house" is barely holding together as it is. It looks like it's about to collapse, and the inside makes you think a tornado ran through it. Nobody is bothering to clean up the mess. In fact the only person who seems to be patching up the house is Keigo. This seems to be a routine for him since he can be seen picking up a wooden plank to fix the wall. Too bad his father kicked him before he could repair the hole 🙃.

Seriously does the "house" even have running water? The windows are broken the walls are made of tin roofing tiles. Does it even have heating or insulation? It's obviously not suitable for a child. I'd be afraid that the roof was gonna fall on me while I was sleeping.

I understand they can't buy a proper home. But it wouldn't be so bad if someone acutely bothered to clean the inside a bit. At least maintain the house so your kid doesn't step on a nail, or glass from a beer bottle. IF A CHILD CAN PATCH UP A WALL SO CAN YOU. WHY IS KEIGO DOING ALL THE WORK?

You people are gonna get rats and bugs. (If you dont have them invading your "house" already)

And that's only the house.

What about Keigo? He doesn't even have shoes. His shirt is torn at the seams. And his parents didn't even notice when he left? Keigo's dad yelled at him for leaving the house and going outside, but was anyone even watching him in the first place? How does your child leave the house and make it halfway to the city before you notice? This little bird looks like he weighs 5 pounds! He's gonna get kidnapped!!

His mom is obviously unstable and she stares at the wall all day. And his dad hates him for existing. So I guess no one was watching him?

His mom also doesn't really seem to care when Keigo gets yelled at, hit, and kicked either. She just kinda stares at the wall. Then when her and Keigo become homeless and start living in a train station she guilt trips him into stealing for her. Like Really??

HE GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT TOO! You sent your child out to steal for you and he literally got into a car accident. He managed to save everyone involved but still, are trying to get your son hit by a truck? This is why I have so many mixed feelings about Tomie.

#4) Being held hostage in his own home.

This one is self explanatory. Keigo got hit in the face just for going outside. He was held hostage in his home for so long that he didn't even know heroes existed. And this is a society where heroes are everywhere. I'm sure it was a lonely childhood, kinda hard to make childhood friends when you get beaten just for leaving the house.

#5) Whatever the fuck "rough training" was.

I know we haven't seen Keigos "rough" training yet. Horikoshi only went into a little bit of detail about it when he mentioned that the commission taught Hawks negotiation skills as a kid. And then theres that one image in the Season 4 outro where Keigo has a blindfold on as a child during training.

But I still would like to know more.

Why would you put a child through "rough" training, strip him of his name, and tell him it's all because he's gonna become a "special hero" right after you've pulled him out of an extremely abusive situation. Like, you aren't gonna wait a bit? Preferably until he's a teenager? Not gonna give him therapy or something?

Isn't pulling a child out of an abusive situation and putting them through "rough training" kinda like transfering them from one abusive household to another?

LET THE BOY REST! LET THE KID BE A KID. YOU ONLY HAVE ONE CHILDHOOD AND HE'S ALREADY MISSED OUT ON MOST OF HIS!!

The training can wait.

If you want help him and support his family, do it out of the kindness of your heart and not because you think he'd be a useful hero.

I honestly don't know how this "training" went for Keigo, but considering that he doesn't currently have the best relationship with the HPCS . . . Well I don't know. All I know is that he never really seems too happy around people from the commission. He doesn't seem to agree with any of their ideologies either.

Honestly I just want him to find peace!

Based on what we've seen so far, (*cough* especially from the Todoroki family *cough*) you really shouldn't be training a child to become a hero in the first place. The training can start as a teenager if someone chooses to train.

Look at the way you massacred my boy! Give the kid a break for fucks sake!!

And these are just the early years. Don't get me started on everything else ✋🙄

[wondernimbus]

veritaserum — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

request: Hi I want to request a Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw reader please! a spell gone wrong makes Malfoy can say nothing but the truth throughout the day. Scared but too embarrassed to approach a teacher, he decided to go to y/n instead because she’s the top student of their charms class to help undo the spell but what he didn’t consider is how he would later straight out confess his attraction towards her, going on and on about her hair, her eyes, etc and they just share a heart-to-heart moment

a/n: i did Not proofread this so i apologize in advance if there r any typos!! also i made a v minor change to the req but other than that bon appetit

Someone spiked Draco's morning pumpkin juice.

It would have been really helpful if he'd noticed it before he laughed at Snape's face and called him a greasy git, after which his eyes grew comically wide and and he tried to hurriedly apologize (more out of fear for his parents than Snape)—only for his mouth to tell Snape to "go wash your hair for bloody once".

Veritaserum. Someone put blithering Veritaserum in his drink, and now he can't open his mouth without spitting out several of his deepest, darkest secrets.

"Two points from Slytherin for your uncharacteristic and very offensive behavior, mister Malfoy," Snape had sneered. "I will only tolerate this foolery once. The next time you dare to speak to me like that, I will not hesitate to treat you the same way I would treat any other student."

Draco would have tried to defend himself, but he isn't stupid enough to let another truthful insult slip out by accident, so he'd kept his mouth shut and nodded.

If one were to go into detail, they would tell you about how Draco had tried to ask Madame Pomfrey to help undo the potion's effects only to severely insult the poor old lady's hair, and how he'd also tried to ask McGonagall only to admit the fact that he'd cheated on her transfiguration test two years ago. He has insulted every single person he has tried to talk to so far during the day. He's called Crabbe an illiterate oaf, told a random Gryffindor couple passing by that they look absolutely dreadful together (something that he doesn't really regret blurting out, but he could have lived without letting them know), and admitted to Professor Flitwick that he'd paid someone to do most of his essays.

But if one were to put it simply, they would go like this: Draco is in a dilemma, and he needs help, fast.

Except he has severely offended every single person he has tried to ask for help, and will no doubt do the same for anyone he plans on asking. Draco is desperate. He is halfway through the school day and the effects of the truth serum have yet to wear off. At this rate, he's going to lose all of his friends, as well as lose his teachers' favor.

Draco can't ask a teacher in fear that all of his good grades will slip from his grasp at a single (honest) insult. He can't stick it out for the rest of the day, either, because when he spends too long a time not talking to anyone, it seems that the truth potion grows impatient and starts making him blurt out a bunch of his innermost secrets.

He has already shouted "I peed my pants when I was eight" in the Great Hall; there is no time to waste.

Potions class comes around right after breakfast and brings with it the inevitable need to face Snape again. Uncharacteristically enough, Draco doesn't swagger into the dreary dungeon classroom. Instead, he keeps his head down as he perches himself on his usual seat right—which is, of course, right in front of Snape's desk.

When the last of the students have filed in and Snape closes the dungeon door shut to begin the lesson, he makes sure to fix Draco with a long stare; one that Draco only holds for several seconds before he sniffs and casts his eyes away to look at his desk instead. You'd think that a Potions master would be able to tell when someone was under the influence of a truth potion—but then again Snape might also have known, but was too offended by Draco's jab about his hair.

He looks up sometime along the lesson and catches sight of the light reflecting off of Snape's greasy hair; well, Draco had been telling the truth.

For today's lesson, they're tasked to brew some sort of calming draught. Draco can't entrust Goyle—his partner—to even as much as get the name of the potion right, so Draco shoots the poor boy a familiar scowl and proceeds to do everything on his own. But Draco is no Potions expert, so instead of the faint lilac hue the liquid inside their cauldron is supposed to have turned into, it becomes a violently bubbling pink substance.

"Four slices of the bat spleen, mister Malfoy, not five," Snape drawls, peering down at Draco's cauldron through his hooked nose. "And you have been too heavy-handed on the lavender. Shame. I expected better."

Draco suppresses a sneer. Snape usually never points out his mistakes—that sort of treatment is reserved for other houses. Snape, it seems, took his insult to heart, the greasy-haired bloke.

Feeling severely irked, Draco slumps down in his seat, folds his arms over his chest, and stops trying entirely. He may be acting like a sulky five-year-old but so be it because Draco is not in the mood. He has humiliated his own self far too many times in one day (and been humiliated by Snape approximately ten seconds ago)—he wants this day over, fast, and with any luck, the Veritaserum out of his system by the end of it.

But he can't see how, so Draco does the only thing that he can do to help himself: he keeps his mouth shut.

The annoyance on his face shows as he surveys the dungeon room with a sour glare. Stupid Potter and Weasley are laughing over something at their shared table; why isn't Snape telling them off? Bloody slimeball. How dare he even speak to Draco like that? It's not like Draco lied. He has never seen anyone in such dire need of shampoo as Snape.

Draco shoots the back of his head a nasty glare from where he's standing all the way on the other side of the room, looming over a table of two Ravenclaws. One of them looks bored and the other seemingly immersed in potion-making; her movements are quick and precise as she pours one ingredient after the other into their cauldron with the same kind of effort Draco would put into making his afternoon tea—like what she's doing is an absolute piece of cake.

"Sit up, mister Corner," says Snape curtly, voice echoing throughout the dungeon and ceasing all chatter as he fixes the bored-looking Ravenclaw with a stony gaze. Draco recognizes him now—Michael Corner, some annoying half-blood he shares a few classes with. As for the girl beside him.. Draco tries to angle his head to see her properly, but her head is bowed over her cauldron and her hair blocks her face from view. "If you think you'll be getting the same outstanding grade as miss [Y/L/N] without even as much as lifting your pinky finger, then I assure you, you are terribly mistaken. I do not tolerate free riders."

[Y/N]. Draco knows her. Some Ravenclaw he has several classes with but has never spoken to—the one with the pretty eyes, Draco vaguely recalls himself thinking at one point, back when he'd first laid eyes on her. And truth be told her eyes are pretty; a lovely shade of [Y/E/C] that Draco has only seen up close once or twice.

But that is hardly the topic of concern, because if Draco turns his head just the right way and sits up a little straighter, he can see that the liquid inside of her cauldron has turned a glossy shade of faint lilac, which, according to the instructions written on the board, is what is exactly supposed to happen. [Y/N] finishes faster than anyone else, even Hermione Granger, and Draco sees Snape give her an appraising nod before moving on to criticize some other innocent student.

So it seems Snape isn't the only Potions expert in the room.

He perks up a little in his seat and fixes the Ravenclaw girl—[Y/N]—with a discreet stare out of the corner of his eye. [Y/N] sits down properly in her seat so that Draco gets a good view of her face (not a bad-looking one, an annoying little voice says inside his head). She hasn't even broken out in a sweat—it seems that potion-making isn't as difficult for her as it is for other people. Draco pictures the truth serum in his veins quivering in fear (although physically impossible) because he is pretty certain he's found the answer to his dilemma.

The rest of the class passes by annoyingly slow—or at least for Draco—because it seems like ages until Snape finally dismisses them for lunchtime. Draco just about jumps right out of his seat and strides straight towards [Y/N], who is currently in the process of stuffing her books inside her bag.

Draco clears his throat.

She turns around, and he's suddenly reminded of why he'd dubbed her as "the one with the pretty eyes", because she truly does live up to the name. Her eyes are strikingly [Y/E/C]; even the whites of her eyes look like they're tinted with gold. He finds himself incapable of speech for a brief moment, but then she raises her eyebrows and offers him a grimace of a smile, and Draco is back to himself again.

He opens his mouth to say "brew me something that'll stop me from blurting out the truth every bloody second" but instead what comes out is: "I've never spoken to you before but that's mostly because I have an irrational fear that I haven't quite admitted to myself yet which is that I'm scared of talking to pretty girls in fear that they'll reject me and my pride will be in tatters."

There's a split-second in which Draco stands there, his own words not having sunken into him yet, and then his face slacks.

[Y/N] stares at him, evidently baffled. And then she opens her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in apparent bewilderment, and says, "Um," she swallows, forcing out an awkward laugh as she takes a step back. "Wow. Okay. Thank you..?"

If Draco had been thinking straight—if he hadn't been so flustered and if he wasn't rushing to take back his words—he would have probably paused, realized that talking would have made the situation worse, and left. But Draco is flustered and he isn't thinking straight, so instead he opens his mouth to take his words back only for the following words to leave his mouth in a rapid burst: "Your eyes are a really lovely shade of [Y/E/C] and you have a beautiful smile and I've never heard you laugh before but I bet my inheritance that it's one of the loveliest sounds to ever exist."

[Y/N] looks flabbergasted more than ever. She doesn’t even look flustered—just utterly confused. For a few seconds, all she does is stare at him, frowning.

And then, looking as though she wants to thank him but not entirely sure it would be appropriate, her gaze darts away from his momentarily before she purses her lips. Excruciatingly slowly, she repeats, “Your.. inheritance.”

Draco grits his teeth.

Apparently there are several truths that the Veritaserum in his system thinks appropriate to reveal to [Y/N]—truths that even he hadn't been fully aware of. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. At that moment he catches sight of the quill and parchment in her hands that [Y/N] had been in the process of stuffing into her bag; hurriedly, he grabs it from her (much to a surprised [Y/N]) and begins to write down the following words (seriously, why hadn't he thought of this before?): accidentally drank truth potion, brew me a remedy.

He practically shoves the parchment into her hands. Still looking wildly confused, she takes it from him with the cautiousness of someone being handed a firecracker. Her eyes dance across the words on the paper for no more than two seconds before she looks back up at him; realization slowly floods her face and her eyebrows rise even higher as she mouths, mostly to herself, "Truth potion."

Draco nods, eyes darting around the classroom. most of the class has already left. Snape is at his desk, fixing the two of them with a frosty stare. When Draco meets his gaze, Snape flicks his eyebrows up at him and asks, in that same drawling voice Draco despises today, "I was under the impression that lunch time meant all students had to be at the Great Hall."

Draco's brain doesn't operate well when he's annoyed—that's something he's realized today. Against his better judgment, he opens his mouth to sneer a retort without even pausing to think about the fact that he might blurt out some other offensive truth, but [Y/N] cuts him off and says, "I'm sorry, professor, but Malfoy's asked me to help him with homework and I thought it'd be nice to help him." She stuffs the piece of parchment into her robe and side-steps Draco so that he's not blocking her from Snape's view. "Would it be okay if we stayed here for lunchtime?"

Snape's lip curls in apparent amusement. Staring at Draco, he drawls, "That’s quite convenient. I had been thinking of assigning mister Malfoy a tutor; it seems he's been having trouble holding his tongue—alas," his mouth twists into a sneer, "I meant potion-making. Forgive me."

And then he heads to the dungeon door, leaving Draco behind to stare at his greasy head on his way out.

[Y/N] purses her lips, cheek twitching with the threat of a smirk. "I’m guessing you've offended him somehow? Veritaserum and all?"

Draco opens his mouth again—really, remembering to keep it shut is easier said than done—and instead of the reply he'd been intending on saying, what slips past his lips is: "Has anyone told you you're one of the prettiest—"

"Okay!" [Y/N] 's eyes widen and she rushes to clamp her hand over Draco’s mouth, looking actually flustered now. "Okay—stop. Just.." Slowly, she pries her hand away from his lips, movements cautious, and Draco stares at her, body completely rigid as he registers the fact that they're a mere few inches away from each other and she'd just put her hand over his bloody lips. And this is the first time they've ever spoken to each other.

"I’ll brew you the remedy," she says, grimacing. There seems to be a hint of a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks, but that could just be because the dungeon lighting is poor. She turns on her heel and makes her way to the ingredients cabinet all the way on the other side of the room, calling over her shoulder to Draco, "Just sit tight there—and keep it zipped before you say anything you don't mean."

The last part she says in a quieter tone, but Draco catches her words anyway and he finds himself thinking that maybe he did mean them.

Because [Y/N] is pretty—prettier than most. She’s not breathtakingly beautiful, but there's something about her that seems to have always drawn Draco, though he might not have ever thought much of it. Maybe it's why he always finds himself staring at her whenever they come across each other in the hallway. Maybe it's why he'd thought of asking her to the Yule Ball last year, but chickened out at the last moment.

He leans on the desk, arms folded across his chest whilst watching [Y/N] rummage through the ingredients cupboard. A moment later she turns around bearing an armful of different potion vials.

Draco means to ask her if she needs help carrying them (because yes, he may regularly be a prick but he has common courtesy). Instead, the Veritaserum still inside his bloodstream urges him to say, "I wish I’d asked you to the Yule Ball last year instead of Pansy."

He freezes.

At that moment, Draco swears to himself that he will inflict pain onto whoever poured Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice. He will have his revenge—no matter what it takes—and although he hasn't quite figured out how exactly he'll be doing it, all Draco knows is that he will.

He can't bring himself to look at [Y/N] any longer, so he plays it off by picking up a book on the desk he's leaning on and rifling through it. It only takes him a moment to realize that it's [Y/N]'s; her name is written across the bottom of the cover. Almost every page Draco flips through has tiny scribbles written in-between the lines—countless of notes, it seems, but so many of them that the actual text is almost indiscernible. Draco almost snorts. [Y/N] seems to be the quintessential Ravenclaw, if he has ever seen one.

She sets down the potions onto the desk, Draco still flipping through the pages. "I’d ask you how you accidentally drank Veritaserum," she says casually, "But I don't want you fawning over me even more than you already have."

Draco glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s in the process of uncorking two of the vials, both of which she pours into the now steaming cauldron. Whatever, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes in an effort to convince himself that he's not embarrassed (even though he totally is: he's bloody blushing).

But then again, whatever. He’s totally not flustered. Totally.

Draco reaches the final few pages of [Y/N]'s Potions textbook without having even registered most of the ones he'd flipped through. The last two pages, like every other book, are completely blank save for the—

Draco's eyebrows furrow. There are drawings of all sorts on the back pages of her textbook, from cauldrons and brass scales to places in the castle that Draco recognizes.

But what has him most intrigued is the faces, all drawn so vividly and with so much detail they look as though they had been brought to life on paper. Draco sees Snape’s deprecating sneer and Michael Corner’s familiar face of boredom, sees Hermione Granger with her brows knitted together at the middle as she leans over her cauldron, Ron and Harry with their heads bowed over a piece of parchment—and then he sees himself, arms crossed over his chest as he fixes something with a stony gaze. But the more Draco’s eyes explore the pages, the more of himself he sees. There’s him slicing what looks like a dragon heart, scowling at someone that looks like Goyle, and another one of him smirking—

And then the book is snatched from his grasp by none other than [Y/N] who looks wildly panicky. "You—I—" she blubbers, gaping at him for a moment before whipping around, turning her back on him as she stuffs the book into her backpack. "How much did you see?"

Slowly, a grin breaks out on Draco’s face. "Enough," he says—and apparently it's the truth, because it's what he actually meant to say. A little surprised, he tries his luck again and means to say so you draw? But instead what leaves his lips is something so excruciatingly blunt and embarrassing part of him wants to dive under the table and hide there for the rest of his life: "I’m assuming because you've drawn me more than anyone else that you find me attractive so I’m going to go ahead and thank you for that, but unfortunately you're a half-blood so I might have to get my parents' permission before I think of asking you out."

A moment of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the antidote bubbling. Draco has to physically suppress himself from diving straight into the cauldron and never coming back out.

[Y/N] scoffs a little, uselessly fanning her face with her hand like doing so will somehow rid her of the blush on her cheeks. Draco grits his teeth and fixes his gaze on the stone floor, refusing to meet her gaze.

She clears her throat in an attempt to quell the sudden burst of suffocating awkwardness now resting between the two of them. Not quite looking at him, she peers into her cauldron and mutters, "I just like to draw all sorts of things. People, as you've seen," she adds, pressing her lips together abashedly. Draco watches her out out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching. "And I don't find you attractive. You just have.. a nice face. For drawing, I mean. It comes out nice on paper."

Draco’s eyebrows flick up of their own accord. He has a nice face. Are those butterflies he feels in his stomach, or is it just the Veritaserum?

It takes no more than a minute or two of silent awkwardness before the antidote is finally finished brewing and [Y/N] pours it into a small vial, which she hands to Draco.

Draco eyes it skeptically, holding the vial up to the light and swirling it around a little. It definitely doesn't look pleasant; a stark contrast to the clear hue of Veritaserum, the antidote is a murky brown in color and vaguely reminds Draco of mud and manure.

You expect me to drink this? Draco means to ask, but instead says, "You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen."

And just like that, Draco, exasperated and embarrassed out of his mind, uncorks the vial and takes a large swig.

The feeling of the liquid sloshing down his throat is an unpleasant one; he coughs a little, face scrunching up with disgust as he swallows down the last of the antidote. But not long after the vial is emptied, a tingly feeling spreads from his fingertips to his entire body and has him feeling weightless for a few moments before it fades and Draco feels normal again.

He sets the vial down on the table, rubbing his throat. When he looks up, he sees [Y/N] already cleaning up, throwing away the empty glass vials and emptying the cauldron with a single flick of her wand.  She’s taking all of her things and shoving them into her bag, and Draco watches as she slings it over her shoulder and makes for the door—

“You’re leaving?” says Draco without really thinking about it. “Already?”

She stops in her tracks and turns around, already a few feet away from him. Eyebrows raised, lips twitching up at the side just the slightest bit, she shrugs. “Well, yes,” she purses her lips. “Was there something else you wanted me to brew?”

Draco’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. “No,” he says hastily. But he hadn’t been expecting her to leave so soon—not after his, ah, countless confessions.

What had he been expecting, though?

“Well, I’ll be going now,” [Y/N] says slowly, a little awkwardly, gesturing to the door. Draco watches her as she takes a backwards step away from him—but he knows a chance when he sees one, so he blurts out, “D’you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Her eyebrows rise even higher as a genuine look of surprise floods her features. Draco doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s onto, but whether or not he regrets it is entirely up to [Y/N]’s answer.

She lets out a breathless laugh, looking dubious. “You’re being serious?”

Draco stares at her for a little while—Merlin, she really does have pretty eyes—and then he shrugs a casual shoulder, nodding.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but there's still that hint of a faint smile resting on her lips. Draco finds himself wishing he’d see her do it more often—in front of him, and not halfway across the classroom. She feigns a look of contemplation, tilting her head at him, now full-on smiling in a manner Draco thinks might be playful. (Alright, those are definitely butterflies in his stomach.) "And what d'you have to offer?" she asks him, eyebrows raised.

It’s Draco’s turn to narrow his eyes at her, unable to suppress the tiny smile that slides across his face. He pauses to think about his answer first, all the while holding her impish gaze, before finally shrugging and saying, "My company. And not everyone gets to enjoy that," he adds as an afterthought, and it's true—Draco is very picky with who he graces with his presence.

But then [Y/N] replies, "Well, not everyone gets to enjoy mine, either," and her tone is almost challenging. Draco, for some reason, finds himself on tenterhooks. Something about her is drawing him in; he can't quite decide whether it's her coyness or her eyes. Likely both.

Severely amused, he leans on the desk and inclines his head a little towards her. "So would you do me the honor of blessing me with your company this weekend?”

There’s a beat of silence—this time not at all awkward—as they stare at each other, a sort of tension between them that Draco finds himself enjoying. And it's a blessing that she breaks it because if it had stretched on for any longer Draco would have lost himself in her eyes completely; “Alright. Sure. No harm to it,” says [Y/N] with a light laugh, nodding.

Draco’s lips break out into a grin and he nods, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Maybe you can tell me more about your drawings. Well,” he pauses, brows raised teasingly. "Drawings of me, to be specific."

She lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes, but she's laughing. "Okay—and maybe you can tell me about how much you love my eyes."

Draco’s face falls. [Y/N] grins, beginning to walk towards the dungeon doors. "I’ll see you around," she sings, and her back is turned but Draco can hear the smile in her voice. Just before she disappears into the corridor, she pauses at the doorway and looks back at Draco, and her eyes are positively sparkling. "Try not to get lost in my eyes too much. Wouldn’t want you tripping over yourself."

With one last playful grin, she leaves the Potions classroom.

And while, just a few minutes ago, Draco had been prepared to get revenge on whoever put Veritaserum in his pumpkin juice, now he feels like thanking them.

[blu-joons]

HUSBAND SHINee A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kim Kibum

A ⇴ AFFECTION

The two of you have the perfect mix of being close to one another and giving each other space when it comes to affection, trying your best never to be too much for each other, whilst also giving enough to the other too.

B ⇴ BOYS

Sharing such a similar sense of humour to Kibum, it didn’t take the boys long to start getting along with you, joking around with you like they did him. It almost felt as if you’d been alongside the group for years with how well you integrated in with them, sharing jokes and laughing just like you were a member of the group.

C ⇴ COMFORT

He worked incredibly hard to try and cheer you up whenever you needed comforting, Kibum would stop at nothing until he saw the smile on your face. Whilst he would be serious while you told him what the problem was, as soon as you fell silent, he would be by your sides with plenty of jokes to pick you up.

D ⇴ DOMESTICATED

One of the advantages of being with Kibum was how domesticated he was and how much he loved doing jobs around the house. The cleaning of your apartment was most definitely down to him for starters, he liked everything to have a place in your home. He also loved to cook, and although he loved doing his own thing, Kibum couldn’t deny that he loved any chance that the two of you got to cook together.

E ⇴ ENGAGEMENT

Being Kibum, he was never going to let his proposal be something boring. He went all out when it came to proposing to you, determined to blow you away with the things that he had planned for you, meticulously planning out every single detail so that it was perfect. The bigger the better was Kibum’s motto, from the location to the ring, he wanted it to be extra, and unlike any proposal you’d seen before.

F ⇴ FAVOURITE THING

Kibum’s favourite thing about you was how content he felt around you and how much fun he had when he was around you too. With the dogs as well, the four of you were a proper family, finding your feet and working around one another with a good routine. Your life together felt domestic, like a movie script, but that was perfect for Kibum, because he was comfortable whenever he was around you.

G ⇴ GOING OUT

The two of you weren’t ones to turn down an invite when it was sent your way, and with Kibum having so many contacts in the industry, you found yourselves usually at a minimum of two parties a week, meeting up with various friends or celebrating the end of yet another project for him or for the whole group.

H ⇴ HONEYMOON

You both knew that your honeymoon was a rare chance for you both to relax, a chance that neither of you were going to pass up. You wanted sun, and you wanted lots of cocktails, but aside from that you just wanted to be able to forget about home for a while and escape into a bubble of calm, without any stress.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Grand gestures were by far Kibum’s favourite way to show you that he loved you, he enjoyed keeping you on your toes and the challenge that came with making sure that each gesture was bigger than the last. When the door went, or Kibum returned home, you never quite knew what to expect from him.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

His face was by far the biggest giveaway whenever Kibum got jealous, the look of disapproval and disgust at the person who was getting too close to you always left you in fits of giggles. It’s an obvious look that everyone else around you can pick up on too, even the person that’s getting too close to you will know that they’re doing something straight away when they look across to where Kibum is.

K ⇴ KIDS

You both were more than happy being dog parents, but you definitely treated it as experience for when you had a baby too. Whilst neither of you were still in no rush after you got married, over time it was a conversation that the two of you found yourselves having more and more as you thought about the future.

L ⇴ LAZY DAYS

The two of you loved being at home whenever you had a lazy day, trying to spend the day doing as little as possible too. You both would crash out on the sofa for most of the day, catching up on new music that you’d missed or episodes of dramas that had broadcasted whilst you were busy. Comme des and Garçons however were the ones that felt the luckiest whenever you had a day off and spent it at home.

M ⇴ MORNINGS

Both of you were pretty hard work to wake up in the mornings, and so when you had to get up together, it was almost an impossible task. With Kibum especially having such early alarms some days, you found yourself having to push him out of the bed some mornings to make sure that he actually got up.

N ⇴ NIGHTS

A lot of the time you would walk Comme des and Garçons in the evenings, making sure that it was dark so that you couldn’t get recognised, and had a lot more space on your walks too with most people at home.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Kibum was obsessed with your laughter, he loved to be the one to make you laugh anyway and brighten your day, but even if it wasn’t him making you chuckle, he liked knowing that you were happy and enjoying yourself.

P ⇴ PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Whenever he’s busy and in a bit of a rush, Kibum makes a special effort to appreciate all of the things that you do for him. You often make him lunch to take with him or help him to pick out an outfit to wear to film, although the tasks are small, they all add up and end up making Kibum’s life a lot easier too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

You never really know what he’s doing one day to the next because he’s working on so many different things, and so quite often you find yourself having to ask Kibum what he’s doing everyday as it changes.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Getting the photos from your wedding was a huge deal to Kibum, he spent a lot of money to get them printed off, hanging several of them up around your home too. He wanted as many reminders as possible at home to remind him that the two of you were married and let him see how good you looked together too.

S ⇴ SILENCE

Between Kibum and the dogs, you very rarely got any silence at your apartment, with noise coming from somewhere. If you got Kibum started, he could chatter for a very long time, and as soon as he got Comme des and Garçons excited, you knew that you might as well just give up on concentrating on anything.

T ⇴ TIPS & TRICKS

Kibum’s best trick for making your marriage work was keeping things positive. He refused to let you feel down, he tried to make you smile and laugh as often as possible and ensure that you enjoyed yourself around him.

U ⇴ UPSET

He hated to see you upset, very little would break his heart more than the first moment that he caught you wiping your tears away.

V ⇴ VISITS

When you could, you loved to take Comme des and Garçons to visit him on set, mainly because you loved how jealous Kibum always got whenever the two of them took the attention of his colleagues away from him.

W ⇴ WISH LIST

There was nothing more that Kibum wanted to wish for, he was already more than happy with the things he had around him.

X ⇴ XXXX

It was difficult to ever really predict the affection that you’d receive from Kibum. Some kisses were loving, and strong, other kisses were playful and lingering, it all depended on what sort of mood he was in.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his number one, by far you were the biggest priority in his life.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Managing to sleep next to each other was always a challenge for you both at night, most of the time you would find that your bed needed to be shared by four rather than two, with two little guests inviting themselves in.

---

Masterlist

[abbyilr1967]

Worth More Than This - Toru Oikawa x Reader

Summary: Tōru loves volleyball, some might say it’s his whole life. As his girlfriend, you’ve had enough of competing with his love for volleyball. 

A/n: Not much to say other than if you’re new here, here is a link to my Masterlist.

Warnings: some spoilers for the manga time skip, but no major details, angst. 

Word Count: 1.4k

Your leg bounced on the carpeted floor of your apartment as you awaited the arrival of your boyfriend home from an away tournament with the Argentinian National team. Although he played mostly for the Argentinian league, it didn’t stop Tōru from having a life in Japan still. Sure he was travelling a lot, but you, his family, and his friends were all in Japan and he didn’t want to uproot you from your home. But that was the problem, he was always travelling, and spending all of his free time training. 

This latest trip had been the final straw for you. 

You had made a compromise with Tōru that you would go with him for all the major tournaments, and you could choose to stay home for the less important ones. This latest trip had been the beginning of the national playoffs. They were working their way through the preliminary matches which would decide the teams that were to face off in the national tournament in two weeks. 

You always went with him to the playoffs, but this time he told you it wasn’t necessary and that you could just stay home. You’d try to ask him why he didn’t want you there, but he would just dodge the question. All the way up until you and his parents went to drop him off at the airport. 

That is how you found yourself sitting in the living room of your shared apartment, jacket on, bags packed, waiting.

Your leg is still bouncing anxiously on the floor when you’re startled by the sudden clanking and jiggling of keys in the door’s lock. The door swings open to reveal a very excited-looking Tōru, who drops his bags inside the door. You stand up from your spot on the couch, allowing him to step into the apartment to meet you instead of meeting him at the door. He surprises you by rushing over and lifting you into the air, twirling around before setting you back down to embrace you. 

“We did it,” he huffs as if his excitement has taken the breath from his lungs. You remember when you used to take his breath away like that. “We made it past the preliminaries.” 

When he pulls away, you can see the same sparkle in his eye he gets when he talks about the things he loves. You haven’t seen that sparkle in such a long time. You remember when talking about you made his eyes sparkle like that. Your mouth is dry, but you will it to respond. 

“That’s great,” it’s barely a whisper on your tongue. His expression falters when his eyes look into yours. 

“What’s wrong? Are you ok? A-are you hurt?” He begins turning you, checking you for visible injuries, but he stops when he realizes how you’re dressed. 

“Why are you in your coat, we didn’t make plans to go out when I got home.” His tone is laced with worry, but you know it’s warranted. He has no idea what you’re about to do. 

You open your mouth to speak but are cut off my Tōru again, realizing your bag was still behind you.

“Y/n, why do you have a bag packed?” His voice cracks, which causes you to lose your resolve. 

Your lip begins to tremble underneath the weight of all the unsaid words, all the things that you had worked up the courage to tell him were now lost in a sea of emotion. You drop your gaze from his, choosing a knot it the hardwood floors to focus on. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Can’t do what?” His voice wavers, but you stay silent. “Can’t do what?” His hands find their way to your face. He tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. “Please talk to me.” 

“I can’t be with you anymore.” A single tear slides its way down your cheek, you were unaware that your eyes had begun to fill with tears. 

You step away from him and he lets you, dropping his hands to his sides. You grab the bag from behind you and turn back to meet the face of the man whose heart you most likely just shattered. His eyes are red, and brimming with tears. 

“Where is this coming from?” he quivers. You can’t find the words, the words to explain how you can’t compete for his love. 

“I- I-” the words get lost on your tongue again. “I just can’t fight for your attention anymore.” 

“Fight for my attention, what’s that supposed to mean?” You can hear the anger creeping into his inflection. 

Tōru rarely got angry with you, and although he justified, it still shocked you. And just because his anger was justified, didn’t mean that you’re feelings weren’t valid as well. 

“You honestly don’t know?” you ask, your indignation evident on your face. “You can’t possibly see why I can’t be with you anymore, why I can’t compete with your dreams!” 

You didn’t want to shout… you didn’t want to break up with him, but you couldn’t be neglected anymore. 

“Are you trying to tell me my dreams aren’t important, are you suggesting I give that up!” He shouts back. 

“Of course not, I’ve always been in your corner Tōru you know that!” The air is thick, finally, all the unsaid words are spilling out. 

“I’ve always wanted you to succeed, but not at the expense of my emotional health.” you sigh, finally calming the anger that burned hot in your belly. “I know my worth Tōru, and I’m worth more than this.” 

His stunned expression is enough to tell you that you’d stuck something deep in him. 

“That’s how you truly feel?” 

“Yes,” the large apartment that you’d called home for the past two years is now closing in on you. Crushing you under the weight of all that was just said. You can’t stay there any longer, but when you try to walk past Tōru he grabs your arm.

“Just let me go,” you ask, gripping your bag tightly in your fist. “Please.” 

“I’m not letting you go without fighting for you to stay.” he’s shaking now, trying to hold back his crying, but failing. 

“You could try, but it’s no use,” you murmur. “I stopped fighting for us a long time ago.” 

You try to step out of his grip, but he holds onto you tighter. 

“Wait,” his voice cracks under the hurt. “Can I just… Can I kiss you, one last time?” 

“Tōru, I’ve made my decision, so please—” 

“I know I can’t change your mind,” he says defeatedly. “I just— Please let me have this one last thing.” He’d never been this vulnerable with your before, sure you’ve seen him cry, been there to comfort him when he needed it. But you’ve never seen him this broken. 

“Ok,” surely you could allow him this, one last intimate moment shared with the person he still loves… you still love. 

You take his face in your hands and press your lips to his gently. His cheeks and lips are wet and salty with the tears he’d let fall down his face freely. For the first time since the start of your relationship Tōru’s not in control, his hands hang tense at his sides, and his lips are not moving to deepen the kiss. 

He’s simply existing in this moment, in his pain… in your pain.

After an appropriate amount of time, you let go of Tōru, and you make it to the front door. Turning back, you see him hunched over on himself, gaze facing the floor as his body is racked with his sobs. 

“If it’s any consolation,” you start, watching him slowly lift his head. “I hope you achieve your dreams Tōru, I always will.” That was the last thing you said to him, before leaving the apartment and shutting the door behind you. 

The second the door latched shut you heard him fall to his knees with a loud thud. Through the wall, you were able to hear the muffled sound of his crying as you walked away. Tears built up in your own eyes as you got into the elevator for the last time. You meant what you said, about hope his dreams come true, that he grows to be the best setter he possibly can be. 

But as the saying goes “you can’t have your cake and eat it too”, and Tōru made his decision and he would have to live with the consequences of that,

regardless of how broken he was.

[ravennm84]

Marinette’s Family Court Circus

I got this idea from a post @unmaskedagain and decided to put my own little spin to it. It’s a bit sad and does have my usual Lila-Salt spin, but I really loved writing this. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The day of her greatest triumph was also her greatest tragedy. Hawkmoth had finally been defeated, the butterfly and peacock miraculous back in the miracle box where they belonged, and Paris was finally safe. 

However, when Gabriel Agreste was revealed to be the magical terrorist and his assistant, Nathalie, his accomplice, Adrien had been devastated. When the Paris police sought to find out the extent of Adrien's involvement, he had no choice but to reveal in a private interrogation room with only the mayor, Officer Roger, the chief of police, and Ladybug herself, his identity as Chat Noir. After which, Adrien said a tearful goodbye to Plagg and surrendered the ring of destruction to Ladybug. A press conference was held within an hour, absolving Adrien of any crimes in relation to his father, and his bodyguard would also be absolved four days later.

That night, after Ladybug had returned home and tearfully placed the ring, broch, and pin back in the miracle box; her parents and Grandma Gina had told her that they were going out to dinner to celebrate; Gina had even rented a car so they wouldn’t need to walk or take the subway. How Marinette wished that they had just gotten on the subway.

She woke up the following afternoon in the hospital. Apparently, her family weren’t the only people celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat, and a car load of university students had celebrated too hard and T-boned their car while running a light. The doctors told her that her grandmother and father had died on impact and her mother passed away during surgery. Marinette had been extremely lucky to survive without any life threatening injuries; a broken leg, arm, collar bone, two cracked ribs, and a few lacerations across her body. 

She was hardly paying attention to what the doctors were saying. Too shocked by the whole situation. There was no Miraculous Cure that could fix this. In the span of a single day, she had defeated her enemy, saved Paris, lost her partner, lost her grandmother, and her parents. She was alone.

When her family’s lawyer, M. Contere came to talk about custody, it was revealed that her grandmother was supposed to take custody in the event of her parents' deaths. Her grandfather would have been the next logical choice, but he had recently suffered a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. This left the lawyer scrambling to find someone to take the girl or risk having her surrendered to the city of Paris.

Going through the Dupain-Chengs’ contact list, M. Contere made phone calls to numbers listed as family friends or emergency contacts. There were three that particularly stood out to him, all listed under the title of ‘uncle’. 

The first was to an ‘Uncle J’; a woman answered the phone, introducing herself as Penny. When Contere told her it had to do with the Dupain-Chengs, the phone was handed to a man with a distinctly British accent. He sounded devastated to hear that Tom, Sabine, and Gina had all passed away before going into a panic and asking if Marinette was alright, showing absolute relief that she had survived the crash. When Contere mentioned the custody hearing, the man practically demanded to know the date, time, and place before promising that he would be there.

The second contact that stood out was labeled as ‘Uncle Tony’. That call was answered by an assistant named Jarvis before transferring the call to Tony. Again, Contere could hear the surprise and hurt at hearing that his friends had passed away before asking if Marinette had been in the car. When told that she had survived, there was relief and he mentioned that Peter would have probably cried for a week if he’d lost his childhood friend. Tony then offered to take custody of Marinette and Contere quickly told him the details.

Although M. Contere was relieved that at least two family friends/possible relatives seemed more than willing to take Marinette, he knew how fickle and difficult the courts could be and wanted as many options as possible for the girl, which led to the third contact labeled ‘Uncle Bruce’. 

The phone was answered by an older sounding gentleman named Alfred before transferring the call. Contere could hear multiple voices in the background, most sounding like young men, and when he told Bruce about the passing of Tom, Sabine, and Gina; it went very quiet for a moment before all the voices began speaking at once demanding to know what happened, who was responsible, and if Marinette was okay. M.Contere answered the questions that he could and told them that Marinette was in need of a legal guardian. Bruce said Gina had been a great friend and mentor to him when he was younger and that he would be honored to care for her granddaughter. So he told him the details of the court hearing with the promise that he would make sure that Marinette was taken care of until then.

After hanging up, M. Contere had a strange feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that told him that those three ‘Uncles’ were either going to make his job of getting Marinette into a stable home a lot easier… or it would be a total nightmare.

~oOo~

The day of the hearing was a Monday and Marinette's case was the first on the docket, which was a relief. If things went smoothly, she could be placed with one of her respective uncles by the end of the week and be taken care of. When the two of them stepped into the room, with Marinette rolling beside him in her wheelchair, M. Contere was surprised to see multiple familiar faces in the courtroom that he had not expected. Jagged Stone, Bruce Wayne, and Tony Stark were glaring, arguing, and puffing out their chests at each other; ignoring everyone else in the room. He also noticed how each man seemed to have an entire team of lawyers backing them up.

The tension and glaring match only broke when the two women; Pepper Potts and Penny Rolling, and the four Wayne boys; Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien, noticed Marinette’s arrival. 

“Marinette, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Penny asked as she walked away from Jagged to kneel beside Marinette’s wheelchair.

“Been better, but I’m glad to see some familiar faces,” she said with a weak smile.

Pepper leaned over a bit to give the girl a gentle hug while minding her injuries. “We’re here for you, Mari. No matter what.”

Then the four boys were almost surrounding her, offering to hunt down the people that took away their family and pile so many lawsuits on them that they’ll die of papercuts. This made her chuckle and grimace a bit from the pain, telling the boys that was sweet but unnecessary.

Jagged, Bruce, and Tony immediately put their argument on hold as they hurried over to check on the girl as well. Contere found it to be a good sign that Marinette seemed familiar with the three men, that they all asked how she was and if she wanted anything, as well as promising that they would take care of her. That last one, the three said at the same time and got them glaring at each other again. This caused Contere to sweat and Marinette to give her head a resigned shake.

What followed would probably go down as the most intense, well argued, and most headache-inducing case in the history of the Paris Family Court System with all three men vying for custody of the teenage girl. 

Being able to provide financial stability wasn’t a concern as Jagged Stone was currently the most successful rockstar in Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas; while Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were two of the wealthiest businessmen in the entire world. All three even offered to completely cover Marinette’s tuition to any school she wanted, so long as she was accepted.

Her safety turned out to be a large factor with all three men, and they were willing to hire their own private security to make sure that she stayed safe at all times. However, the three men also argued how the others lived in unsafe environments. 

Jagged mostly lived in tour buses and out of hotels, which was a factor; but he was willing to call off his tours during the school year and only go on tour during school breaks so Marinette would never be without her guardian. Penny was also willing to help Jagged at every turn, stating that she loved Marinette like a niece and would make sure that she had a strong female role model in her life as well.

Tony’s reputation as a playboy and his identity as Iron Man brought up the possibility of attracting a dangerous element. He argued that his homes were equipped with the most advanced security systems on the planet. As well as being friends with an actual “God-Alien”, who had met Marinette and liked her a great deal. Tony was also willing to make Marinette her own personal Iron Suit that would be programmed to protect and fly her to a safe location at the first sign of danger. Pepper also offered to share custody as she already took care of Tony’s daily life as his assistant, taking care of Marinette would be easy and she was looking forward to having her around.

Bruce’s residence in Gotham, the most crime ridden city in North America, was a big factor. Bruce made a point that he already had experience as a guardian of his three adopted sons and his biological son, and they were kept safe. That he also had a top of the line security system at his home, which was located outside of city limits. Dick, Jason, and Tim also commented that they thought of Marinette like a little sister and that Wayne Enterprises had locations all over the world. If the judge decided that Gotham was too dangerous, one of them would gladly take up residency in a city that the judge approved and would stay there to watch over Marinette while still working and providing for her.

After two hours of listening to the back and forth of the three men and their lawyers, the judge decided that he’d heard enough for the day and set the next meeting for the following Thursday after lunch. He also recommended that the men bring proof that they have the mental capability of caring for a teenage girl, lists of schools near their homes to show that she will continue her education, and character witnesses, if available. 

The three men wanted to take Marinette out to get something to eat after the court was adjourned, but M. Contere was forced to tell them that it would not be appropriate during the legal proceedings. He also recommended that they follow the judge’s instructions and make sure that they had everything needed, otherwise they would likely not qualify. Hearing that got all three men, their assistants, family, and lawyers moving at top speeds to get everything they needed for court in a few days. 

Once they were out of sight, the lawyer couldn’t help but let out a stress induced sigh as he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. This custody battle had the potential to turn into a total circus, and although it could do great things for his career in the long run, he was more worried about how this would affect Marinette. 

Speaking of, he was brought from his thoughts when he felt her small hand gently pat the hand that was holding his briefcase. When he looked down at her, she gave him a kind, though slightly amused smile. “You had no idea about the can of worms you were opening when you made those phone calls, did you?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “How was I supposed to know that Uncle J, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bruce would turn out to be three of the most influential men in the world? How does your family even know all of them?”

“Uncle Bruce was raised by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, after his parents died. Grandma Gina and Alfred were best friends when they were younger. After the Waynes died, Gina would go check on them in Gotham, she liked to brag that she helped get Bruce back out of his shell. Uncle Tony knew my parents back in university, he was a lot younger and smarter than the other students and you can guess that didn’t go over well with some of them. My parents looked out for him and they became friends, and even after he got busy when he took over the company, he always made time to be there for the big moments in our lives; my parents’ wedding, their baby shower, and when I was born. I’ve actually spent a few summers in Gotham and New York visiting them.”

“And Jagged Stone?”

“He’s the most recent of my honorary uncles. I’m his personal designer, but he got unofficially adopted into my family after the tv show that took place in my parents’ bakery. Uncle Jagged made a bread guitar and sang rock songs with my dad. Once the show was over, Mom invited him and Penny to stay for dinner. During the course of the night, Dad claimed him as a new little brother. Jagged was so happy that he started calling my parents big brother and big sister, and started calling me his niece. Since then, he’s come over at least once a month to just relax and be a family with us.”

M. Contere couldn’t help but smile at that. From the sound of it and what he had seen, all three men truly cared about this girl and were willing to bend over backwards for her. That was a good thing, but he still worried that a custody battle between these three men could go for a long time and possibly cause mental distress for Marinette. Although the final decision was ultimately up to the judge, he was allowed to make recommendations if they were in the best interests of the child. 

With that in mind, he knelt down beside Marinette. “You know the three of them and what they’re living situations are like better than I do. And even though you’re not 15 years old yet, I could petition the judge to factor your opinion. Which of them would you like to have guardian status?”

When Marinette gave him a knowing smile, he just knew that things might get more complicated.

~oOo~

It got a lot more complicated.

The media had caught wind of the custody battle, causing a giant crowd of paparazzi to stake out the courthouse to catch a glimpse of the rockstar, billionaire, and the self proclaimed “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” who was also a superhero. To their credit, the three only said that they were devastated by the loss of the Dupain-Chengs and wanted to do what was best for Marinette and left all the other questions at the door.

In the courtroom; all three men, as well as their assistants and Bruce’s boys, had done mental evaluations that their lawyers submitted to the judge. They also provided lists of different schools that Marinette was free to choose from; including public schools, private, and even schools that specialized in fashion. But the absolute kicker was the character witnesses.

Jagged Stone had brought other music stars, movie stars, and production mega stars that made Contere wonder for a moment if he’d accidentally walked into an award ceremony. Tony Stark had brought the Avengers, The Avengers, as his character witnesses. Contere wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a bit starstruck when Thor himself came over to great Marinette and complimented her on her ‘battle scars’, saying that they were a testament to her strength. If that wasn’t enough, Bruce brought multiple members of the Billionaire’s Club as character witnesses, many of whom had been suspected of being members of the Justice League. 

The judge looked just as surprised, though somewhat irritated, by the people crowding his courtroom. He quietly looked over the mental health evaluations that had been provided, as well as the lists of schools; finding that everything was in order and that any of them would have been wonderful guardians to the girl. He was tempted to call another recess and pick this back up the following week until Marinette’s lawyer raised his hand.

“If it would please the court,” the judge motioned for him to continue, “although Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is not yet of legal age to make a final decision on the matter of custody, I felt that she was old enough to state her opinion. We have discussed it over the past few days and I believe we came up with a proposal that will satisfy all parties involved while still being in the best interest of the child.” M. Contere presented the four copies of the proposal to the bailiff, who handed one to the judge, and the three lead lawyers.

The judge read the summary at the top before looking at the lawyer in surprise. “You’re proposing joint custody?”

“Yes, your honor. My client and I feel that due to the influence that these men hold, as you can see by the character witnesses that have come here to speak on their behalf, that this custody hearing could be drawn out for a long time, which could have mental repercussions on Marinette.” Contere didn’t miss the ‘you ain’t kidding’ roll of his eyes, or the looks of shame that the three men shared at the thought of hurting Marinette.

“Keeping that in mind, my client came up with an outline for a possible custody agreement. M. Stark would retain custody during school as he has listed one of the top fashion schools in America, which would further Marinette’s future career. The weekends would be spent with M. Wayne, as Wayne Enterprises has connections to the fashion industry and would be able to give her training to help her successfully run her own business. M. Stone would have custody during summer breaks, so Marinette may continue gaining experience as his personal designer, a position she has held for close to a year and has already earned her recognition in the industry.”

The judge grew quiet again as he contemplated the proposal and read over the details. He didn’t want to deal with these three powerful, and in a lot of ways eccentric, men for the next few months while attempting to figure out the best placement for the child. Nor did he want to deal with the media frenzy that this case had already brought on. If anything, this was likely the best option, if he could get the men to agree to the terms.

“Do you have any objections to this proposal?”

There was a moment of silence as the lawyers continued to look over the proposal and spoke to their clients. Jagged’s lawyer was the first to respond. “No, your honor. M. Stone believes that this would be best for Marinette, but we would like to add a clause that M. Stone be permitted to call and visit Mlle. Dupain-Cheng so long as it does not interfere with her school work.”

“My client would also like that clause added to the proposal, your honor,” said the Wayne lawyer. “As well as the clause that Messieurs Stone and Stark work together with M. Wayne in securing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s safety. As previously stated, all three men could be considered high-priority targets and normally require bodyguards. M. Wayne has proposed that any potential bodyguard be vetted and approved by all parties involved before being hired.”

The judge looked to Stark’s lawyer. “And do you have any stipulations you would want to see added to the proposal?”

“Only that there be an open line of communication between Messieurs Stone, Wayne, and Stark at all times in reference to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s well being and any possible travel. As all three men are known to travel the world for business; there will be occasions for the child to travel as well. When this occurs, the other guardians should receive notice of the country, city, and address that she resides; so, in case of an emergency, they will be able to be present to assist and protect her.”

“My client has no objections to these clauses,” said Jagged’s lawyer.

“And you, M. Wayne?”

The Wayne lawyer nodded. “The clauses are more than reasonable and are in the best interest of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Although I only speak for my client, I do not believe that I would be out of line to say that is the main focus of Messieurs Stone and Stark as well.”

The lawyers hid their relief when the judge nodded in agreement. “As the proposal was presented by the child and the three of you are in agreement, I’m scheduling a meeting in my chambers for next Tuesday to go over the finer details of the custodial agreement. I will allow your clients and one lawyer each to attend; this includes you and your client, M. Contere.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“And as for you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Marinette’s head snapped up to meet the judge’s gaze. “It seems that you have gained three extremely powerful, influential, and in many ways crazy guardians. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or give you my sympathies. What I will do is wish you the best of luck and hope that you are prepared for the future. Court is adjourned.”

There was a hum of surprise and joy that spread through the courtroom as Jagged, Bruce, and Tony stepped up to each other and shook hands before approaching Marinette and M. Contere. 

“Of course, my niece would come up with a way to keep everyone happy, she’s so rock n’ roll that way.” Jagged beamed with pride as Tony and Bruce nodded in agreement.

“Would it be alright if all of us went to dinner to celebrate,” Bruce asked Contere, indicating the ‘all’ to be himself and his boys, Jagged and Penny, and Tony and Pepper; along with Marinette and Contere.

“So long as there’s no discussion of custody and everyone stays civil, I don’t see any harm in it.”

Everyone smiled in agreement while Pepper mentioned that she’d just finished making reservations for all eleven of them at a nice restaurant that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower.

As the others began filing out of the courtroom, Marinette patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “You just opened your second can.”

M. Contere wasn’t sure about what she’d meant until after the meal was over and the waitress brought the check, and then watched as the three billionaires fought over it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he only hoped that this would all be over on Tuesday and he could go back to his normal, boring cases.

[inknopewetrust]

A Little Chaos

Summary: A thief finds herself at the center of the kidnapping of two girls and has the attention one very attractive detective. 

Pairing: Detective Loki x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Criminal activity, flirting, sexual references, brief choking, probably 16+ based on content but no explicit smut. A mention of pedophilia but nowhere near in detail.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written something like this and can I just say that I really loved it!? So, I really hope you all do too! Requests are currently CLOSED but I hope to open them soon again and with new characters to add to my list. Check out my Masterlist for all other works. Thanks so much for requesting this @mrs-blooooom! I just loved the idea so much and thanks for being so kind about all the delays!

One - pick the lock 

Two - lift up the screen and frame as quietly as possible but make absolutely no rough work of it. 

Three - slip on the shoe covers and assess the gloves before entering through the window. 

Four - get to work. 

That was always the structure, no questions asked. Though, you noticed the news beginning to trace your patterns. You had made a hit in another neighborhood two weeks ago and because the news began reporting the patters, you were sure the police weren’t far behind. 

And perhaps on that particular Thanksgiving, you shouldn’t have done another–or picked that house, rather.  

Detective David Loki had a million different things running through his mind on a daily basis. When a case such as the Dover-Birch one stuck itself in the middle of an already pending investigation of burglaries in the Conyer’s area, he had a hunch of who he would investigate first. But he couldn’t get to that immediately because Keller Dover convinced him and his superiors that the RV belonging to Alex Jones was the first and only way to go. 

But even after interrogating the man who had a child-like innocence to him, David Loki was convinced there was something more to the story. There had to have been a connection to who burglarized the Dover’s that same night and where the girls could be... he was certain, but then he wasn’t because he wasn’t sure you were the kind of person who would kidnap two innocent girls. 

On a particularly slow Tuesday, no new leads had come in and the investigation had stalled because Alex Jones had now gone missing without a trace. Although he was doing everything he could, Loki was far from finding a solution and decided to take the initiative into his own hands and dive into the file he had been working on for nearly five months–the one into you and your less-than-stellar activities. The post-it note sticking out of the side of the manilla folder contained an address to an apartment in the center of town. He plucked it out, tucked it into his pocket and walked straight out of the station. 

You weren’t worried about being considered a suspect in the kidnapping of two girls. You had no connection to the Dover’s, Birches’, or the Jones’, as well as no connection to the scene of the crime. You were always careful, and the Dover’s had no security cameras. So, when your comm buzzed in the middle of the day, you weren’t expecting it to be the police. 

“Hello?” 

“Ms. L/n? This is Detective Loki with the Conyer’s Police Department. I have a few questions I would like to ask you.” The voice was cackled with the circuited communication buzzer but you heard the man loud and clear. You also knew exactly who that was. 

Detective David Loki was an infamous creature of Conyers. One day he just seemed to sprout out of nowhere and into the public sphere, but you had known him for a while. You were never friends, and you were sure until now he didn’t even know your name, but he was the star pupil of the town. And the spotlight he was in, he absolutely hated it. Every time his picture appeared in the paper or when he had to speak on the television relayed that message and you laughed in pity. The poor man just wanted to do his job and that was one part he didn’t sign up for. 

“Can I ask what this is regarding?” 

“The investigation into Joy Birch and Anna Dover. I just have a few questions I’d like to ask you if you would step-” 

“I’ll buzz you up.” You pressed the button and unlocked the door, opening it just enough for you to rest on the frame with one arm on the door and the other on your hip. 

Another thing you knew about Detective David Loki was that he was one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. The man was a walking dream but unfortunately, on the other side of the law which was far from promising when it came to your vivid imagination. 

“How nice of you to not barge into my home, Detective.” You called out to him as he appeared on the steps landing just down the hall from your door. Loki gave no smile but shoved an orange post-it into his jacket as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“This surely won’t take long.” 

With a nod you moved away from the door, shutting it closed behind you. With the sudden and unexpected presence of this man who was a fine line between formal detective and loose cop, there was an urge to be exactly the opposite of what he wanted you to be. He had been trailing you for just enough time to learn patterns in your life, the people you associate with, the fact that you had a degree and a decent job. You had an apartment to call your own, a car that wasn’t stolen and yet you continued to break into people's homes and steal curious objects for what? Consignment sales? He wasn’t sure. But you weren’t going to give him the answers he was looking for. You enjoyed the life you built for yourself...even if you had to steal and sell things to arrive at ends meet to pay for everything in your life. 

“So... what can I do for you?” 

“Can you recall where and what you were going on the night of Thursday, November 28th?” 

“Thanksgiving?” You asked with a raised brow and he nodded. Loki pulled out no notebook to take notes, rather he watched every movement. He was trying to identify guilt, but you were a casual sleuth. It wasn’t a game he was used to because all of his suspects eventually gave in. 

“I got up around 8:30, maybe 9 and ate some breakfast, um I-” You took a seat on the arm of your couch, running a hand over your mouth trying to “remember” what exactly you were doing a few days ago. 

“-took a shower and then got started on my dish to pass at my parents dinner. I made sweet potatoes and stuffing-or dressing... I don’t know what you call it.” Loki was far from amused that you were making this appear less than serious. He couldn’t let himself believe that you were stupid enough to believe he wasn’t there on behalf of the story that captured the attention of the entire nation, so he didn’t believe a word you said. 

“When that was done I got ready, did my makeup, and headed out to my parents where my sister and her family were meeting us to have dinner. Then I left their house around 7-ish and came home.” 

“After dinner you went straight home?” 

“Yes.” 

You looked at him with an unfazed gaze which he met but didn’t buy. It was a game. A cat and mouse game that he wasn’t willing to bite into but it was too late, you already had him on a string. Loki would be lying if he didn’t find you attractive, even in the slightest. You were a beautiful woman, and it was because of how you looked that you’ve never been caught. You always covered every inch of your body and you looked unassuming. You had a perfectly pristine house, looked like someone who didn’t need to steal to live but then again, most of the time, all the people who do steal never look like they would because that is what people are taught not to look for. 

“I made some phone calls late last week and someone in your family spilled that you weren’t there. In fact, you haven’t been to a family holiday since you graduated college nearly ten years ago. Bad relationship?” 

“I can assure you–whoever you talked to, they weren’t there. I was there. I can tell you what I wore, what I ate, what was on the T.V. and what color shoe my nephew was wearing that day.” 

“Those could just be good guesses?” Loki let his eyes wander around the small living space. He looked at the picture frames, the vases, the bins, the T.V. stand, everything that could have screamed “out of place” to him but nothing did. 

“You didn’t happen to pass two little girls on your drive home, did you?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Two girls. I’m sure you’ve seen their picture on the news.” Loki pointed to the T.V. at first but then dug into his pocket and pulled out a single picture of two girls photographed on a playground. They were smiling widely and happily at the person behind the camera. You had never seen the girls so you shook your head no and crossed your arms. 

“No. I’ve never seen them before. Am I supposed to?” 

“I don’t know, are you?” 

“What are you implying, detective?” 

“Do you know the house you broke into on Thursday, November 28th was the home of Anna Dover. Anna and her friend Joy went missing that same night after returning to the Dover residence to find a whistle. You were inside the home at the time we believe the girls went missing. So, tell me–do you know where the girls are?” Loki was zoned in accusation. The man was unwavering in his tone or his assumption and you would say it was scary if you didn’t find it attractive. Why, God WHY, did the detective working on this case have to be everything you looked for in a man? It would be so much easier if he were old and wrinkled but he was far far from it. 

“Detective, if I would have known you would come into my home and accuse me of kidnapping two innocent girls, I wouldn’t have answered the ring.” 

“Where are the two girls? Do you know where they are?” 

“No. I told you I didn’t take the girls.” 

“But you were in the house? Did you see the girls?” 

“I didn’t say that either.” 

“What if I told you that you were a sloppy thief?” 

“Excuse me?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. You were certain that you were not. There was never a time where you left as much as a trace of hair in a location that you hit. 

“The bin.” Loki walked over to the T.V. stand that had three white bins tucked into slots. The bins were generally filled with junk except for one thing that the Dover’s told him went missing yesterday afternoon. A medium size blue decorative pot with yellow flowers on its sides. It was meant for shallow flowers as a table center piece that was gifted to Keller and Grace on their wedding day. Grace was distraught over it and it was sitting the left-most bin under the television. Loki pulled open the drawer and carefully took out the pot and you looked at it with a shrug. 

“Where did you get this?” 

“My mother.” 

“I thought I told you that they told me you haven’t spoken to them in a decade?” 

“Well I obviously spoke to them before that.” 

“I am going to ask you again and I want an honest answer. Where did you get this pot?” 

What were you supposed to do? The man literally cracked the code. If only you hadn’t chosen that house. Oh! How much easier your life would be. 

“I plead the fifth.” Oh, fuck. 

Loki set the pot carefully down and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. It would have been hot if you weren’t terrified of what came next. Then you made an ill-timed joke. 

“You’re not pulling those out for another reason are you?” You didn’t even laugh yourself because he simply ignored it and motioned for you to stand and turn around. 

“I am going to take you to the station and we will talk more there. Stand up, turn around, and give me your hands.” 

“I already told you I don’t know where the girls are.” Ignored again but the feeling of him pushing your shoulder with his hand and taking your wrist was something you wished you would stop replaying in your mind. 

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything-” 

The Conyer’s Police Station was wimpy compared to other cities. It was a small, single story brick building with three holding rooms and one interrogation room. You weren’t sure how long you sat in the holding cell, but it was nighttime by the time you were taken out of the room by another officer and into a brightly lit, slightly yellowed room with a mirrored window and a small desk with two chairs. There was a pencil and a pad of paper at the center of it but you were sure if it was going to be Detective Loki interrogating you, he wouldn’t need it. 

The officer uncuffed you with no words spoken and pointed at the chair facing the window. You rubbed your wrists from the friction the metal left before taking a seat and staring into the glass where your reflection met your own. You had nothing to do with the two missing girls so you had nothing to give them, or rather, nothing to give Loki to further his investigation. 

The man of the hour waltzed into the room a mere five minutes after you were sat down. He had a half-drank cup of coffee in one hand and a small grouping of papers in the other. Loki sat down, settling himself before looking up at you and beginning the interrogation. 

“Please state your name, age, and address.” 

You recited the information as told.

“How many homes a year do you burglarize?" Loki opened a file that was tucked under some papers with a series of pictures printed on a piece of computer paper. It was amalgamation of missing objects from families around Conyers. You were fucked, but you couldn't let him think that, or at least believe that you were guilty in anyway. Your stealing wasn't going to find those girls because you had no idea where in the world they were. You had never seen them before their faces were plastered on every hour of the news.

"Shouldn't my lawyer be here if you are going to accuse me of something?"

"Do you need a lawyer?"

"Do I, Detective?"

It was the attitude that angered him the most. A woman like you didn't need to steal. Based on your records, he had no reason to truly believe you would. Clean record. No screaming signs of intent or distrust popped out but he knew you were guilty. There was not a doubt. But there was something in that attitude that made him squirm. An attractive quality that he did not want to admit.

"If you answer the questions I ask truthfully, then no, you won't need a lawyer."

"Ask away." You leaned back in the chair with arms crossed and a determined narrowness to your eyes. It was a challenge. Try me, Detective. Do it, I dare you.

"When did you first start stealing?"

"When I was seven. My sister always had better stuff, so I took it."

"And that escalated to...what?" Instead of leaning back on his own chair, Loki leaned forward. His shoulders were hunched in an aggressive, intense tactic to scare you into admitting something that you didn't have any part of. He just wanted to find those girls and you happen to be a speed bump in the way.

"Minor petty theft. I never take anything over $500."

"How do you know what something is worth?"

"I'm sure you can find that in my file, Detective. Everything is there I am sure of it. You all know just how to frame the people you want. But I had nothing to do with those girls."

Loki's line of aggravation was growing thin. Sooner or later, attitude wasn't going to cut it and he was going to have to use the tactics he used on Alex Jones and other potential perpetrators on you. He never liked to get outright violent with women, but he couldn't let this go without trying to get something. The days were wearing thin and he needed to find Joy and Anna.

"You were in the Dover's house the night of the abduction. Where are the girls?"

"I told you I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Didn't or don't."

"Doesn't matter. I did not see them. I do not know where they are. Ruining children's lives isn't my MO, Detective-"

"But you do and you did! YOU were in that house. YOU were at the scene of the crime at the time they went missing. YOU are the one who knows what happened to those girls!" His voice was no longer steady and calm as he had been taught during his training. His string had snapped when in response, you laughed.

Loki flew out of his chair, rounded the table as the sound of his chair skidded across the floor and to the wall behind him. If you weren't so focused on him, you probably could have heard the surprised yells of the Detectives and Officers behind the mirror. The angered Detective roughly arrived at his destination–you, and grabbed the back of your hair, pulling your head back to look at him as he stood over you.

"Where the fuck are the girls?" It came out like a hiss. His eyes enraged with pain for the families and his own reputation if the case goes wrong and he doesn't find them in enough time. You weren't scared of him or his tactics. Rather, it was quite the opposite. If he wasn't attractive, you would have been disgusted but the man was the epitome of perfection and this scene would be one to get you off for years to come.

"I told you, I don't know where the girls are." He gripped your hair harder and you felt the chair waver underneath you. Still not scared.

"You're a liar, a fucking thief, and I don't believe you. Where are the girls? Do you like that sort of thing, huh? Do-"

"You sick fuck. I'm a thief not a fucking pedophile. I didn't take the girls!" You were slightly taken aback by his suggestion, but it was all a tactic. You had seen it on millions of police shows before. He just wanted answers, but he wasn't going to find them with you. Whatever in the sentence you had just spoken to him, Loki was worse off for it. He practically lifted you by the hair and charged you into the wall roughly. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. He wasn't playing around but neither were you.

Loki's hand let go of your hair and one found itself on the wall next to your head as he closed in on you. You could feel his breathe on your face and his eyes pierced your goddamned soul. The other, well the other found itself right on your neck, holding you in place against the wall with a slight squeeze. Holy fuck.

"Keep this up Detective and I would have the means to believe this might lead to something else." The smile, your smile crept up on your face at your own assumption. You wouldn't complain if it did escalate to that.

"TELL ME WHERE THE GIRLS ARE? WHERE IS ANNA? WHERE IS JOY?"

"I told you I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE GIRLS ARE!"

There was something in your own anger that made him want to believe you didn't take the girls or had any clue where they were. He would hate to see a woman like you throw your life away for a career of crime. The proximity between the two of you was next to none. A knife wouldn't have been able to break the tension and the way he held you, unintentionally violent with a hand just a little too suggestively on your neck was a mistake but not one that he was readily going to admit. If this was any other situation, he might have let himself be willing to feel something more. But this was an interrogation, so he kept the face and squeezed just a little harder.

"Where are they? Tell me where they are?"

"Starting to sound like a broken record there. I would tell you again but I'm sure you have my admission of NOT KNOWING WHERE THEY ARE ON TAPE!"

Loki had enough and let your neck go with a jolt. His hands went to his belt where his cuffs were sitting and he pulled them out and turned you around. Your body was flush against the wall and one of his large, tattooed hands held your wrists together as he went to cuff them. This was another thing that would forever be engrained in your "sexy when it shouldn't be" file in your brain.

"Fine. You won't tell me where they are? Maybe a night in lock up will make you think." His voice was low, just at the base of your ear and his hot breath lingered on your neck as you could hear nothing but your heart beating out of your chest and the sound of cuffs closing.

But the man didn't get much further than that because the door to the room opened and like two deer in headlights, you both turned your heads to the sound of the intruder. It was another officer who looked both scared and amused and slightly embarrassed in regard to what he walked in on. He approached Loki as the latter man pulled you off the wall and forward, in front of him to walk toward the door.

"It was the hospital. Joy Birch was just admitted."

The look on Loki's face was priceless. You literally scoffed out loud and turned your face to his.

"I told you I had no fucking idea where they were."

Loki simply passed you over to the other officer and headed to the door, frustrated and confused about his own work and internal feelings about what had just happened–both the realization that you had no idea where they were and that he had been aggressive to the point where it kind of turned him on.

"Detective!" He was halfway out the door when you called out to him and if he had a mind, he would have ignored you and continued on, but he was so flustered that he did.

"If you ever want to use those cuffs sometime, you know where to find me."

Loki didn't say anything, but his eyes wandered. From your face to your body to the floor and back up. It was an unashamed look that made the officer uncomfortable, but you couldn't help but let a small, sly smile grace your face at his look. This man would be the end of your criminal career if he managed to find the time to reunite with you again.

And he did. Two days after Keller Dover was found in a hole and on a holiday he knew you were not going to spend with your family.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Stu Macher

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Stu when you were both in middle school. The two of you became friends purely because Stu wouldn’t let you not become his friend.

- So the two of you grew up and entered highschool together. You had a bit of a crush on him but never said anything about it, thinking that he only liked you as a friend. Oh how wrong you were....

- It’s sophomore year when you get your first real boyfriend. Stu isn’t happy about it.

- It’s obvious to see that he disapproves when you tell him that you’re going on a date. He treats you coldly throughout the entire day, not as bubbly as he usually is. While it does seem odd, you chalk it up to him feeling protective of you and not knowing how to articulate his worries.

- The next day, it’s as though nothing has happened. He nonchalantly asks you about your date but doesn’t seem all too happy to hear that it went well. You figure you’re looking into it too much.

- As time goes on, on the outside, it seems like he’s warmed up to the idea of you dating the boy, though you’re sure it’s mainly because you weren’t planning on getting rid of him anytime soon. But on the inside, it’s driving him crazy.

- Theres an obvious yet subtle rivalry between your boyfriend and him, whether one sided; at first, or not. Sometimes you wouldn’t even notice but your boyfriend sure did.

- The certain way Stu would pop up when you were hanging out, the way he called you over to him when you were trying to talk, the way he touched you; it was like he was sending a message behind his cheerful smile. Can’t you see who’s more important to her.

- He hugs you for too long, enjoys it too much. You thought your boyfriend was going crazy. You’d assure him that you were just friends, that you’d been friends for a long time and that he was just reading into it too much. That that was just Stu being, well, Stu.

- But your boyfriend wasn’t too far off. Stu had feelings for you. He had a big crush that hadn’t let up for years, one which was slowly eating away at him. He hadn’t wanted to ruin your friendship, especially when he didn’t even know if you wanted to date anyone.

- Though, regardless of whether or not you thought your boyfriend was being silly; you talked to Stu about it. He makes jokes, teasingly promising to be on his best behavior. You aren’t even aware that you’ve given him all he needs to know. He is getting to the boy and everything is working out perfectly.

- In the following days, Stu ups his antics and your boyfriend finally loses it, starting an argument which evolves into a full on fight and ends in you breaking up with him. Single once more.

- The next day at school, Stu approaches you like normal and immediately notes how tired and bothered you look. Without even thinking, you relinquish the details and he comforts you, saying that he could tell he wasn’t good for you. He does feel bad, seeing you so upset, but at the same time, he’s happy that you’re finally done with the other boy.

- It’s a week or so later that he confesses his feelings to you, wanting to give you enough time to get over the jerk. Having waited this long, he didn’t want his plan to be foiled by post breakup confusion.

- His parents are out of town so you’re staying the night, the two of you laying side by side on his bed, dressed in your comfiest clothes. You’re watching some lousy made for TV movie when he shoves your shoulder lightly, prompting you to look at him. He’s now leaning on his elbow and facing you. You shoot him a curious look and he speaks.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, right? And you know that I care about you a lot. Well, the thing is.... I care about you a lot more than you think and I want us to be even closer than we are now, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is that I... I love you and I want to know if you feel the same.” He rambles nervously, eyes focused on his fingers which are tracing along the blanket beneath the two of you.

- It certainly comes as a shock though you can’t say you’re completely surprised. You don’t know what to say so you let your actions speak for you. You move closer to him, hands grasping his cheeks as his own hands find your hips, pulling you closer as he tilts his head up and let’s you press your lips to his.

- He pulls you closer until you’re practically on top of him, eagerly kissing you until you both need to break apart for air. When you do, you’re both panting yet he smiles, pecking your lips and saying he’ll “take that as a yes”.

- Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself an adorable goofball who also kills people.

- He hangs all over you in public. You can never get him off of you although, would you ever really want to?

- Hand kisses. He presses his lips to your knuckles whenever he grabs your hand.

- You arent allowed to walk to class alone; he won’t let you. It is his duty to walk you and he will fulfill it.

- He rarely says your full name. Instead, he’ll either call you a pet name; usually babe or darling, or whatever nickname comes from your full name. Even if your names short, he’ll wind up making it longer just because he can.

- Long makeout sessions.

- He always gets this lovestruck look on his face whenever you show up; no matter what was going on before you arrived. His day instantly becomes like ten times better at the sight of you.

- Getting to borrow his Walkman. He makes a very strategically constructed mixtape, filled with songs that the two of you love so that both of you can listen and enjoy.

- Tasteful groping and butt smacks.

- Going to all his parties.

- He is such a baby when he gets sick. He completely overreacts, whining, moaning and acting like he’s dying even though he’s just got a mild cold.

- He tries to make your hugs last for as long as they can, especially when you’re saying goodbye.

- He’s constantly trying to make you laugh, mostly through bad jokes that will either get you to laugh through their stupidity or have you rolling your eyes.

- Teasing you is his favorite hobby. He likes doing what he’s good at and what he’s good at is being a little shit.

- Sometimes he just randomly approaches you with little gifts; mainly flowers he’s picked you or something similar. It’s usually either because you look like you need some cheering up or because he’s trying to apologize for a “stupidity leak”.

- Big boy likes being a big spoon. He’s tall so the two of you fit together perfectly.

- Gettting randomly thrown over his shoulder. Sometimes he’ll just carry you off as though you weren’t going somewhere or having a conversation with someone. Or he’ll act like nothings out of the ordinary while talking to the person you were talking to.

- You always have a seat ready for you ...on his lap.

- He leans on you all the time, whether it be him resting his chin or arm against your shoulder or him full on laying between your legs with his head against your stomach.

- Getting... the tongue. The man is constantly flashing it at you. A part of you thinks he’s trying to send a message, the other part of you just thinks he’s a dog.

- On that note, he’s probably licked the entire side of your face before, especially when you aren’t paying attention to him.

- He craves attention; it’s like a drug to him. He loves having your eyes on him, and when they aren’t? He’ll give them a reason to be.

- He’s sort of insecure so you fawning over or complimenting someone else immediately makes him uneasy. His ex girlfriend dumped him for a football player and he’s kinda scared that you’ll do the same.

- He tries to reassure you whenever you seem nervous or apprehensive, usually through jokes. Not sure about an idea of his? Well, what if he makes some action movie reference and promises to protect you as he makes karate motions with his hands?

- The boy has no subtly. He’s always blunt and upfront with what he’s trying to say so you’re never confused by any “insinuations” that he makes.

- Getting random, unexpected visits from him, usually when you’re at work or home alone.

- This man is a cheerleader when it comes to you. He’s always hyping you up and complimenting everything you do.

- He’s constantly bragging about you; he’s so proud.

- Movie dates. He’s not as completely obsessed with horror as Billy is but he still enjoys sitting with his girl, watching a film and trying to “subtly” feel you up.

- Getting close to Billy by default. The two of them are constantly together so you wind up being costantly around him as well.

- Hanging out at the fountain with him and his friends.

- His parents are out of town a lot so you have the whole house to yourselves most of the time.

- He’s got a farmhouse on the outskirts of town with the perfect view of the sunset/sunrise. You don’t know how many times you and him have laid out on the grass, cozied up next to each other and watching the sky change colors.

- Stealing his sweaters when it gets cold. You should see his face when he sees you wearing them, it’s the perfect example of a lovestruck expression.

- Jaw and neck kisses. He doesn’t care if he’s giving or receiving; he loves them either way.

- Inside jokes.

- Having to stifle a laugh when he mocks or makes fun of someone. It’s so stupid that you can’t help but chuckle.

- He may not seem like a very jealous person but whew boy. For someone who is constantly bragging about how great you are, he hates other people actually seeing it and admitting that he’s right.

- He’s a protective boy, he hates the thought of you being hurt, upset, or take advantage of. And he’s like so buff, he’s got you covered.

- Defending him whenever someone won’t let up on him. He isn’t very articulate so if someone needs to be shut down verbally, you do it yourself.

- Local sensitive baby caves under peer pressure. It’s incredibly easy to make him do what you ask; thankfully, you aren’t trying to make him do something that will get him in trouble.

- He doesn’t quite grasp the art of being tactful so you’ll oftentimes have to interrupt or stop him from saying something.

- Since he always seems to say the wrong thing or do something stupid, the two of you; most likely, have more than a few petty arguments. They usually aren’t anything worse than a little bickering.

- He always does something adorable that makes you forgive him whether it be using puppy dog eyes on you or telling bad jokes until you can’t help but warm back up to him.

- Not a day goes by where he doesn’t say he loves you. He needs you to know!!

- He doesn’t really talk about the future but he’s planning on marrying you as soon as he can and that’s a fact. The man is in love.

[chronicasexual]

TDM Movie Removing Important Details From the Books

I just spent like half an hour writing an essay about the most important things that the TDM movie removed that were originally in the books and why they ruined the movie even more for me. Feel free to add any other big things that were removed because I couldn’t remember everything since I haven’t watched the movie in a while.

Removing Sam and Martin:

Although Sam was technically *in* the movie, she had like half a minute on screen and that was it. They didn’t even drop her name, so I’m considering it the same as them writing her out of the movie because they did her dirty. And although Martin sucked, he was also important. They were both reasons why Ruby was so terrified of her powers, but without them, they made Ruby feel only a fraction of the internalised loathing of her power that she felt in the books. After Ruby had erased her parents memories, seen that orange kid on the bus, and then finally erasing the memories of the person she held dearest to her at Thurmond and the only light she had at that camp, Ruby shut down and didn’t speak for an entire year. Despite having erased herself from her parents, she at least had Sam. So when Sam was erased, she lost all hope. And when she was broken out of Thurmond, the little hope of finding others like her who can help her control her powers and let her be happy was destroyed by Rob and Martin. Thus, removing these two characters removed a huge layer of understanding we got as the readers as to why Ruby is so closed off in the first book. In the movie, had I not known her from the books, I would have simply thought that she’s just being dramatic, and be confused as to why she’s *so* scared of her powers. 

Removing the Jack storyline:

Oh boy. I hated it so much. Jack was so important to Liam and Chubs. Jack’s death made Liam feel so guilty and is what drives him to work even harder to save kids from camps without having any of them die. He feels so guilty about every single death in Caledonia, but Jack was his friend and he left him behind. And without Jack, we have no journey to find Jack’s dad and deliver the letter to him. And without Chubs being shot by Jack’s dad, we never find out in the movie that Chubs trusted Liam would get them out so much that he didn’t even write a letter to his parents. That was such an emotional moment in the book and made me realise how strong their bond was. Instead, we have Chubs getting burnt in a fire. The entire main mission of the first book for Liam and Chubs was to get to East River to find where Jack’s dad lives and deliver it. Without it, we are reduced to them simply looking for East River since it’s a safe haven, even though that removes the purpose of Liam wanting to break more kids out of camps with the help of the Slip Kid. Jack was important. 

Pink Rubber Gloves:

Yes, I am about to rant about why I think removing the scene where Ruby gives Zu gorgeous pink rubber gloves was horrible. Ruby and Zu had a connection in that Walmart in the books, and Ruby sympathised with Zu because they both didn’t have control of their powers and were scared of hurting others with them. To Zu, her yellow rubber gloves were a constant reminder of her lack of control, and they’re another thing she can’t control in her life, as she is technically forced to wear them as a safety precaution. Maybe I’m overanalysing this, but Ruby giving Zu pink rubber gloves in particular was so important. Zu loved the colour pink, and by being able to have her rubber gloves in her favourite colour, she at least regains control of something again: how she displays the things that stopped her from losing control. Control was important to Zu, as we know that her not speaking was also one of the few things she controls in a world that removed her choice and decisions simply because of who she is and her powers. 

Ruby’s Lack of Control:

In the books, Ruby has little to no control of her orange abilities up until she meets Clancy. This lack of control is what constantly sparks her anxiety and fear and what makes her reluctant to interact with others. She feared her powers because not only had she vicariously and directly seen what harm orange powers cause, she didn’t have the control to stop them from hurting others. This causes her to constantly fear touching others, and it emotionally lets the reader understand how vulnerable she is and lets us understand her and form a connection. But in the movies she just… uses them normally? Like I know there was the rare few moments in the books like when she did the Lady Jane thing but in the movies it makes her appear to sure of her abilities and use them effortlessly, like when she simply made those two skip tracers at the motel leave. What the heck???? Not only does it remove so much of her character but in the books she literally didn’t know how to do that stuff and barely had a grip on how her powers worked???

[tenthgrove]

Yandere La Squadra- Formaggio, Melone, and Ghiaccio

Warning: It goes without saying that these headcanons are darker than my usual stuff, so if you are uncomfortable with ideas such as abduction and forced relationships, beware I go into them here. Extreme violent abuse and non-con (beyond low-level touching) are not present, however, since I don’t write for these themes.

Formaggio

Formaggio falls for someone he meets by chance, most likely somewhere like a bar, bowling alley or cinema. Regardless, after a couple of random encounters in which he gets to briefly chat with you, Formaggio starts to seek you out on purpose. It isn’t long before he starts to develop a crush.

However, despite Formaggio’s attempts to come off as friendly you soon start to take him for a creep. You begin to consciously avoid him, going as far as to stop going to the places he tends to find you.

After a brief period of feeling spurned, Formaggio comes to realise that his initial hopes for a normal relationship were never very viable anyway. Say you’d accepted his early advances and gone on a few dates? How long until you start to question his friends and work life? No, the only way this is going to work is if he takes the more drastic route and abducts you.

Formaggio gets your living details with the help of those in the squad more suited to that kind of task. He doesn’t tell them why he needs to know all this. After a short period of stalking you in his car to memorise your routine, he forms his plan. He knows convincing you to come with him will be hard, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either. It seems he’ll have to rely on trickery to make you follow him blind.

Late one evening while you’re home alone, Formaggio sets fire to your neighbour’s house. As you run out the front door, panicked and confused, you don’t question the friendly voice promising to drive you to safety. You climb right into Formaggio’s car. By the time it dawns on you what’s really going on a few minutes later, it’s already far too late.

Formaggio eventually wants to have as close to a normal relationship with you as possible, but until you can be trusted not to run from him you’re going to be (loosely) chained to his bed. Look, he fixed his TV and even *cleaned up* for you! Would a shitty boyfriend do all that?

Tries to bribe you into forgiving him with food. Even if you give him the silent treatment, he’ll plonk himself down next to you and throw an arm around your shoulder, occasionally stuffing snacks into your mouth to feel like he’s treating you.

If you misbehave lightly, he’ll make a show of not being bothered by it, thinking his forgiveness will convince you he’s not that bad after all. However, if you’re really uncompliant, Formaggio will shrink you down until you apologise, always showering you with affection once you’ve swallowed your pride and told him what he wants to hear.

Secretly, Formaggio is excited by the possibility of you trying to escape and having to be dragged back. Once or twice, he might ‘accidentally’ leave the key to your chain on the nightstand, letting you have a few blissful hours of freedom before he takes you back. He’ll only punish you lightly, however, since he did set you up for this after all.

All-in-all, Formaggio can’t wait for the day you return his affections, and will woo you over in whatever corny ways he can think of.

 Melone

Melone is the sort of yandere to make the conscious decision to seek out a darling before he even has anyone in mind. With all his eccentric beliefs in astronomy and other personality pseudosciences, it’s only natural Melone would believe his special someone is out there just waiting for him to find them.

After having investigated several dozen candidates who he for one reason or another rejected, he finally lays eyes on you while stalking someone you know. It’s love at first sight, and as he lays in bed at night perusing all your social media profiles, he can’t find a single thing that doesn’t compound his earlier suspicions. He’s finally found you. His soulmate.

You are granted a few blessed final weeks of normalcy before Melone acts. This time is used to set up the room that will accommodate you. It is furnished with a lavish double bed, a large collection of clothes (Melone insists that regularly changing your clothes, even if you aren’t moving around much, will provide a sense of routine that will help with your mental health), a safe filled with various medicines to mediate your mood, and several forms of restraints that are various extents of restrictive, to be switched between depending on your behaviour.

What the room doesn’t have are windows- they’ve been completely bricked up. Your room is also padded wall to wall with sound-absorbent foam. Nothing from the outside world comes in, nothing goes out. Until you love him, your entire life will consist of Melone and this room.

When the time comes to take you, Melone will break into your house and drug you in your sleep, so that you’re completely unaware of what’s happening until you’re safely in your new home. He will sit at your bedside non-stop until you wake up, adamant to be the first thing you see when your new life begins.

The first few months of living with Melone are essentially a covert form of behavioural training. When you are nice to your new boyfriend, your life gets better. When you shun him, you stay at the current level of restrictions on your freedom. It is simple psychology that this will inevitably lead you to accept him more.

If, say, you were to misbehave extremely, such as by consistently trying to run away or physically attack him, then the ultimate punishment would be forcing you to create a junior that then becomes your guard. Although Melone will take every precaution to make sure no harm comes to you from your new child, he knows you will not enjoy the process, or the presence of the freakish being that calls you its parent.

Eventually, once you have a consistent track record of many months of good behaviour, Melone intends to let you live practically as freely as you did when you met him, even letting you leave the house regularly for hours at a time without supervision. However, even when you have no use for the room he initially kept you in and are no longer forced to be there, he won’t get rid of it. He enjoys looking back on those tender first months of having you. You won’t ever make him put you back there, will you?

  Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio holds his affections close to his heart, and for that reason, he will most likely fall in love with a childhood friend, or someone else he has a prior fondness for. Perhaps after a number of years out of contact, you suddenly move into his vicinity without knowing it. Ghiaccio sees you through the window of a café and is instantly struck with all the feelings he repressed from his youth.

In the coming weeks, Ghiaccio is filled with an intense paranoia. He wants to have you, to at very least be able to let you know he’s there, but he’s terrified of you getting hurt. Wait, do his enemies already know about you? That aside, will someone as weak as you *ever* be safe in a city like this? Ghiaccio knows he would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. That means he can’t sit still until he makes sure he does something about it.

Even still, your abduction is an impulse. That’s not to say he didn’t consider the idea before, even going as far as to make some casual preparations like getting new locks for the front door and spare room. However, he never had a concrete plan. All that convinced him to take you was a sleepless night. After several hours of tossing and turning, head filled with terrified thoughts of something bad happening to you, he decided he needed you *now*.

Ghiaccio doesn’t have much of a plan, but being so much stronger than you he doesn’t really need one. He bursts through the door of your house and drags you to his car, frantic explanations of what’s going on doing little to calm your terror. Freezing over your lips and wrists with ice, he puts you in the trunk and drives you home.

Ghiaccio tries his best to be patient and accommodating with you. He lets your room be your private space and doesn’t force physical contact on you, though he’ll occasionally plead with you to let him hold you when he’s feeling stressed. He dreams of the day you’ll stop being scared of him and he can have you whenever he wants.

Spends a lot of time trying to justify his actions. But even if you run away, he can’t bring himself to hurt you. Instead, he’ll bind you to a chair in his basement and rant for what feels like hours about how this is all for your own good, and you just don’t see that. He ends up practically begging for you to just stay with him without a fight.

The process of wooing you over is a lot of trial and error, inviting you to do activities with him he recalls you liking and encouraging you to be emotionally open with him. Eventually, through the sheer force of time, his efforts become successful and you start to reciprocate his affections.

However, given Ghiaccio’s paranoia it’s unlikely you’ll ever be able to go anywhere further than the corner shop without his supervision. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just terrified of something happening to you. That said, he feels bad about restricting your freedom and will work hard to give you a good life.

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt12 / on AO3

Lan Xichen gives Nie Huaisang a music lesson

Everything was perfectly laid out on the low table when Lan Xichen finished his preparations. There was a guqin, of course. Not his personal one, since it would have been unwise to let a complete beginner touch an instrument that valuable, but a very good one nonetheless, borrowed among those Gusu Lan used to teach its newest disciples. Along with the guqin Lan Xichen had also taken a manual detailing the different hand positions, how to play different types of notes, and how to care for an instrument. In case Nie Huaisang took a liking to playing music, as Lan Xichen so hoped he would, permission had even been obtained on his behalf to keep both the instrument and the manual for the duration of his stay in the Cloud Recesses.

With how unpredictable Nie Huaisang was, there was a real chance he wouldn’t want to learn after all, or that he’d be as unfocused with this as he was with most things at this point of his life. But if Lan Xichen’s plan worked, if Nie Huaisang took to music…

It was unlikely at this point that Meng Yao would ever work for Nie Mingjue, or for Jin Guangshan. Just that morning, Lan Xichen had received a letter from Jiang Cheng who had wanted to give news about Yunmeng Jiang’s newest recruit, stating that Meng Yao seemed to get along with everyone so far. Only Madam Yu had reservations, having predictably guessed that Meng Yao was one of Jin Guangshan’s many bastards, but his good manners and respect for authority apparently pleased her, leading Jiang Cheng to believe that his mother would eventually warm up to this new disciple. Lan Xichen fervently hoped it would be so, and intended to answer that letter to thank Jiang Cheng for letting him know everything was going well, and for taking good care of Meng Yao.

If Meng Yao settled well in Yunmeng, then Jin Guangshan would find it much harder to conduct a plot against Nie Mingjue’s life. The man had treated his bastard son like dirt, never realising Meng Yao was the best thing that had ever happened to his sect, never seeing his true potential. Without his son, Jin Guangshan would hardly be a threat to anyone.

Still, there were hard times coming in the near future. Even without the Jin conspiring against him, Lan Xichen had suspected in that other future that Nie Mingjue’s temper and inner balance had been hit hard by the pressure of the Sunshot Campaign, and so Lan Xichen had now inherited his future self's fears on that subject. There was a good chance that the Jins had only precipitated a death that would have happened too soon even without their interventions.

But if there were someone in Nie Mingjue’s entourage who could play Cleansing for him, properly play it, someone as determined as Lan Xichen to keep Nie Mingjue in good health, but with the advantage of proximity and availability…

Cleansing was not an easy song. Even among Gusu Lan disciples, there were many who could not play it well, and they were not considered inferior cultivators for that failure. Teaching such a complex piece of music to a stranger, untrained in the ways of Gusu Lan, would be a gamble, one Lan Xichen had lost in another life.

He would not fail again to protect Nie Mingjue.

A knock on the door called Lan Xichen back to the present. He was not surprised to find Nie Huaisang there, whom he invited to come in. Nie Huaisang appeared to be in a good enough mood, and bore almost no more trace of his fight with Jin Zixun. It seemed to Lan Xichen that the other boy’s nose used to be a little straighter, but he couldn’t be quite sure. It was nothing horrible to look at, anyway. In fact, it might even have added something to Nie Huaisang’s face, giving his face a certain charm he wouldn’t otherwise have developed until well into his twenties, around the time his brother died. 

Or perhaps it was just that Lan Xichen had never paid attention this early into their other lives. Not his worst mistake perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless because it had allowed Nie Huaisang to turn into a cold, lonely, and cruel man, one who haunted Lan Xichen’s nightmares in this life. But maybe this Nie Huaisang, with his slightly crooked nose proving a brave heart, with a loyal friend to count on, would turn out differently. 

Lan Xichen must have stared too obviously, because as soon as he was done removing his shoes, Nie Huaisang covered his face with his hand.

“It’s really noticeable, isn’t it?” he whined. “Everyone says it’s just like before, but I know it’s not. I’m disfigured!”

“You’re certainly not disfigured,” Lan Xichen assured him. “I don’t think anyone who hasn’t met you before would even realise the shape isn’t natural.”

“I will have to hide my face behind a mask for the rest of my life,” Nie Huaisang insisted, going to sit without waiting to be invited to do so. He picked the side furthest from the guqin, which Lan Xichen thought didn’t bode well for his plan. “Good, honest folks shouldn’t have to ever see something so horrific. I will have to go into hiding! I will live and die alone, having never kissed anyone because I missed my chance when I was handsome.”

“You’re still quite handsome.”

“I’m not! Lan gongzi, there’s no need to lie, there’s no need to pity me. My life is ruined. With a face like that, what do I have left to attract others to me?”

Lan Xichen didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he was comforted to realise that not all of Nie Huaisang’s behaviour in that future that wouldn’t be had been a comedy aimed at distracting Lan Xichen from his true intentions. It also wouldn’t be the last time he found such comfort in those antics either. Still, Nie Huaisang really was too dramatic, and Lan Xichen wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

“Nie gongzi has many other qualities that might attract a cultivation partner.”

“I do not. Really, I don’t!”

“Then let’s teach you some new skills,” Lan Xichen offered, calmly gesturing at the guqin. “The history of Gusu Lan is filled with musicians who wooed their true love through their talent, surely Nie gongzi might find success that way as well.”

Nie Huaisang pouted, and glared at the instrument as if it had insulted his parents.

"I really don't know if there's a point," he said. "I won't have any talent for it." 

"I've heard that before," Lan Xichen said, opening the manual to its first page. "From people who in the end proved very good at playing, once they got over their worries and just started. Wangji was absolutely terrified he would disappoint us all, and look at him now." 

In fact, Lan Wangji had cried his entire first lesson. And the second. The awkward timing of it, soon after their mother's death, hadn't helped. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren had needed to reassure him they would still love him and keep him in the family even if he turned out to be the worst guqin player in the world before he would touch the instrument. 

And then he'd enjoyed it so much that within a year he'd caught up to Lan Xichen's level, before promptly surpassing him. 

Brat. 

"Oh you can't compare me to Lan Wangji," Nie Huaisang complained, but he still leaned over the table to better look at the manual, peeking inside with some curiosity. "He and I are of a different sort. Everything your brother sets out to do, he succeeds at. I'm just a normal person." 

Lan Xichen's hands clenched. He remembered too well the respective failures and successes of Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang in that future he hoped they would avoid. Though thinking about it, Lan Wangji did usually get what he wanted. He'd even gotten Wei Wuxian, though it had taken him a while. All Nie Huaisang had gotten was bloody revenge, at the cost of everything else.

"Ah, sorry, I shouldn't speak like that of your brother," Nie Huaisang quickly mumbled. "I guess I spend too much time with… it's just that people in your sect tend to be unfairly compared to him, when he's a natural prodigy." 

"I suppose I cannot blame Su She for finding it tiring," Lan Xichen generously conceded. "Though he has qualities of his own, and should take pride in those. Although your punishment is now over, I hope you won't mind if I keep stealing him from you here and there to help copy texts."

Nie Huaisang gasped in horror. 

“Wait so it’s your fault if Su-xiong hasn’t been around lately?”

“I thought it would be better to keep him away from Jin gongzi,” Lan Xichen quickly explained. "And even though I told this to him on your first day of punishment, I still caught him trying to come and see you again the second day, so this seemed a good way to prevent problems." 

“I’m really so relieved that’s the reason Su-xiong wasn’t around,” Nie Huaisang said, looking more relaxed indeed. “I was so scared he didn’t want to hang out anymore, or that he was upset about getting scolded because of me…”

“Nie gongzi should have a little more faith in others,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “Especially in your friends.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, looking at Lan Xichen with some surprise.

“It sounds like you almost don’t hate him anymore.”

“I am currently reconsidering my opinion of him,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I thank you for encouraging me to do that. You were right in accusing me of unfairness.”

It had been with great reluctance that Lan Xichen had involved Su She in his project to prevent their sect's library. He'd only given him some texts of minor importance, which Su She could not put to use if he still broke out from the Lan sect in the future. And even those texts were only given to him for Nie Huaisang's sake, because Lan Xichen realised he wouldn't get Huaisang’s trust without making concessions toward Su She. 

Much to his surprise, Su She had acquitted himself of that task with diligence and skill, producing an excellent copy of the text given to him, without a single wrong stroke on any character. Lan Xichen had praised him for his work and, since there had been two days left to Nie Huaisang's punishment, had given Su She another text to copy. 

Since then, he had become curious about Su She, something he'd never done in his other life. 

Lan Xichen had trusted his sect to be fair in that other future, both as a youth and as a sect leader. Because the rules ordered fair treatment and respect towards everyone, he had believed that things were so. If anyone was unhappy, they would have reported their trouble to an elder, or directly to him. Indeed such things had been brought to his attention sometimes once he was sect leader, which he had investigated and set right again, proving to himself that the system worked. And if the system worked, then someone like Su She who had betrayed his sect in such a despicable manner could only be a villain.

Nie Huaisang’s surprising attachment to Su She had forced Lan Xichen to pay more attention to him. He hadn’t liked what he’d seen so far, but not for the reason he would have expected.

Su She was not only skilled in cultivation, something Lan Xichen had always reluctantly been forced to admit in that other future, but he was also dedicated to playing by the rules of Gusu Lan, bending to every rule even though the sect’s way of living clearly went against his entire personality, obeying his elders, working hard to please his teachers. And yet in spite of those efforts, Lan Xichen heard from some teachers that Su She was considered lazy and difficult. If pressed, those same teachers might say that Su She’s background meant he didn’t value hard work as a peasant’s son might have, that he lacked the education in classics he might have acquired in a family of scholars, and that he just didn’t have any refinement of manner as befitted a cultivator.

Su She didn’t belong, the same way Meng Yao didn’t belong.

Lan Xichen had a feeling that in that other future, his adult self had often been puzzled by the friendship between Jin Guangyao and Su She. Even when they had been revealed to be partners in crime rather than merely friends, Lan Xichen still hadn’t understood what might have brought those two to become so close.

It was starting to make sense now.

And this meant, also, that Gusu Lan had betrayed Su She no less than he had betrayed them.

“I’m glad as well, if you’re changing your opinion about him,” Nie Huaisang said with a happy smile. “He’s really a good person. Maybe he doesn’t always have the best of tempers, but neither does da-ge and you like him, so…”

Lan Xichen, however willing he was to give Su She a chance to prove himself in this new life, still shivered at hearing him mentioned at the same time as Nie Mingjue, whose death he’d probably helped in the other future. Jin Guangyao was very skilled, but it was doubtful he’d have mixed Cleansing and that other piece of music without a little help.

But that wouldn’t happen again. Meng Yao wouldn’t grow to hate Nie Mingjue, nor would he go to serve his despicable father. Not this time.

“Now that you’ve been reassured about your friend’s loyalty, how about starting the lesson?” Lan Xichen offered. “I do fear you’ll have to come sit on my side.”

Nie Huaisang grimaced and threw the guqin a worried look, but made no movement to get up.

“I really don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he said. “I’m such a bad student… I always get distracted and bored...”

“I think only because people usually try to teach you things you don’t enjoy,” Lan Xichen replied. “Come sit here, and let’s start. If really you don’t like it, then I’ll let you go and we’ll just forget about this, it’s fine. But you can’t give up without at least trying once.”

“You sound like my brother,” Nie Huaisang complained, but at last he stood up and walked around the table to sit closer to Lan Xichen. “Always saying I won’t know unless I try… and then when I try things and I don’t like them, he gets all upset and we fight. But… fine. Fine, let’s try this, I’m here already, anyway.”

With Nie Huaisang in such a mood, Lan Xichen thought that the whole endeavour was doomed to fail before it had even started. His uncle often said that it was near impossible to teach someone who didn’t want to be taught, and seeing Nie Huaisang like this made Lan Xichen understand what he meant.

Still Lan Xichen started his lesson as if nothing was wrong, explaining the very basics of how to play a guqin, demonstrating hand positions, pausing sometimes to play a few notes so Nie Huaisang would better understand what he was explaining. At first Nie Huaisang’s posture was closed off, his expression as reluctant as if he were listening to one of Lan Qiren’s lectures. 

But as the lesson progressed Nie Huaisang's attitude changed. He looked more focused, and started imitating the different hand positions Lan Xichen was explaining even before being invited to do so. When invited to try playing a note or two, Nie Huaisang seemed to immediately know when the note was wrong, and dutifully listened as Lan Xichen corrected the movement of his fingers or their positions on the string, his expression one of intense concentration. He would then replay the note until he got it right, showing a determination that Lan Xichen wouldn’t have thought him capable of, not at this point of his life anyway.

Maybe it wasn’t just that the death of Nie Mingjue had changed him, or the lonely decade that followed, Lan Xichen realised. Maybe Nie Huaisang had always been that stubborn, but only about things that mattered to him… and because the things that mattered to him didn’t matter much to Lan Xichen, nor indeed to most people who met Nie Huaisang, they assumed he was easy going and unwilling to make effort,even perhaps a little stupid, just as he often claimed to be.

After a while though, Nie Huaisang appeared to hit his limit. It had taken longer than Lan Xichen would have expected, and indeed the lesson had gone on longer than he’d initially planned, but he’d allowed it to drag on, fascinated by Nie Huaisang’s unexpected determination. It was only when Nie Huaisang started failing to play a new note several times in a row that Lan Xichen finally suggested they stop for the day.

“I told you I wouldn’t be much good,” Nie Huaisang sighed, flexing his fingers to stretch their muscles. “I just couldn’t do it, in the end.”

“On the contrary, you’ve proven yourself an excellent student,” Lan Xichen replied. “Better than many I’ve had to help, and more serious as well.”

“But…”

“It’s only your very first lesson, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said, “and we have gone much further with it than I expected. You have real skill for it, I believe, and far more importantly it seems to me that you have a taste for it. Am I wrong?”

Still flexing and rubbing his hand, Nie Huaisang nodded quickly, a shy smile on his face.

“It was… it was really fun,” he admitted. “Lan gongzi is a good teacher.”

“Nie gongzi is a good student, when the subject pleases him. Do you wish to continue learning?”

Lan Xichen would have expected Nie Huaisang to take a moment to consider the question. Even if he liked music, it seemed to him that Nie Huaisang had little affection for Lan Xichen, something he might have deserved.

It was a pleasant surprised when Nie Huaisang immediately nodded.

“I think I do want to learn, if Lan gongzi can spare the time.”

It would be complicated to organise. Just this one lesson had taken a lot of rescheduling. Lan Xichen had a lot to do, between helping teach the juniors, his own lessons, his uncle trying to involve him in the ruling of the sect, and of course the copying of books from their library. But becoming closer to Nie Huaisang was essential to ensure this new life would turn out better than the old one.

It might also be pleasant, Lan Xichen realised with some surprise, thinking how quickly time had passed while teaching Nie Huaisang, and how pleasant it had been to have such an eager student. If Nie Huaisang's interest in music remained, if he learned enough to have conversations on the subject, if his understanding increased enough to have debates even...

Lan Xichen's plan upon gaining knowledge of the future had been to gain Nie Huaisang’s trust rather than his friendship, seeing no value in the latter. A mistake on his part, he was starting to realise, and he hoped now to get both trust and friendship as a result of his efforts.