#and i accidentally did it more than I would've liked last time

[devils-rising]

If i keep getting angry like this, there's gonna be a new scar. I never do it out of sadness and despair anymore. Just rage, knowing there's no one I can let it out it on besides myself. There's no regret for lashing out. I only feel calm.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[alllgator-blood]

I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)

I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch

Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)

ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:

[w2sology]

DOING THE PRANK WHERE U PRETEND TO GET SOMETHING FROM THE BACK OF THE CAR BUT INTENTIONALLY SMACK YOUR S/O WITH HARRY PLEASE!!!!! would love if u included the comments at the end

cut it out, harry lewis.

summary: harry's been a bit sick of you hopping on tiktok trends, but this one leaves him a little more than baffled.

warnings: none

notes: this trend had me giggling so bad omg 😭😭😭 guys it's been ages (like a month but still) since i last wrote something writer's block was KILLING ME 😀 feel free to send in some prompts or reqs <3

harry had told you to get ready in the next half an hour, that you'd be going on a little date in central london. well, he didn't tell you, rather he sprung the idea up on you after you complained about being bored for the last two days.

it took a lot more than he thought it would've to convince you to leave the house, with harry going as far as telling you that he'd drive. that's how you knew he was being serious.

so as he was getting ready after you, you scrolled through the obsession of your life that was tiktok, laughing every so often and sending some to your friends who had yet to respond to the others that you sent.

stopping on one video that you couldn't stop giggling at, a thought formed in your mind. the tiktok was of a girl who wouldn't stop "accidentally" hotting her boyfriend whilst trying to get things out of the backseat of the car.

it had been ages since you last pulled a joke on harry, yet only the other day he pulled one on you with the help of the boys.

"are you ready yet or are you still laughing at your phone?" harry came back into the bedroom, pulling his navy blue nike hoodie over his shirt.

"i am ready, in fact," you got up, tiptoeing to gently grab a hold of his face, pressing your lips to his. "and the things on my phone will always be funnier than you."

"good joke," he smiled a false smile at you, squeezing your waist before grabbing the keys off of the dresser.

"i still can't believe you're driving. wait, pose with the keys, let me get a photo for your mum."

"don't get too used to this..."

harry walked out before you to put his shoes on, but seeing as you already had yours on, you asked him to unlock the car for you. to him, it seemed you were just eager to leave but really, you had to make sure that there were items in the backseat.

placing one of your tote bags in there, you evenly spread out one of the jellycats that you left in your car and another bag full of spare things. putting the camera at an angle that was able to capture both you and harry, you smiled giddily. soon enough, harry joined you in the driver's side, about to start the car.

"wait!" you called out. "i think i forgot something in the back."

"can't you get it whilst i drive? it's not me you forgot, right?"

"ha ha ha," you rolled your eyes. "no, i might rip it apart by accident."

harry shook his head, nonetheless not starting the car before he looked dead into your camera. he did wonder why you were recording, yet he never actually brought it up.

messing about in the back, deciding which item to use first, you decided on the jellycat.

it was an octopus, one that faith had got you from a trip in florida that she and ethan went to.

"here she is!" you smiled, pulling the jellycat back and purposely hitting it into harry. you did it gently, but not too gentle to the point where he didn't get irritated.

jumping as it made contact with his arm, harry frowned. "ow?" he said, looking at you, but you were too busy dusting off the jellycat.

"hm, actually no." you turned back around to put the stuffed animal back, this time reaching for the tote bag.

luckily, it didn't have anything too sharp in it, so you wouldn't actually hurt harry.

again, you pulled it back with enough force this time slightly jolt harry out of his relaxed position. "are you alright?" he asked, blinking at you.

"huh? what d'you mean?"

"you've just... full on wacked that into me?" he said, more so asked, in shock.

"did i?

"yes?!" you could've sworn you saw his eye twitch, having to restrain your laugh.

"oh," was all you mustered out, looking into the bag as if you actually needed something from it.

harry shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he waited for you to finish. "can we go now?"

"un, not yet actually," and you turned again to the backseat, this time grabbing the last bag.

pulling it back again, it hit harry in his arm, but this time he grabbed the bag from you, tossing it back in the backseat.

"harry! i needed that," you gasped, again to hide your laugh.

"no you didn't, y/n, unless you were using it to target me again" he mimicked your whiny voice.

you didn't know what had you more speechless, the mimicking or his reaction to your silly little prank.

"i wasn't targeting you..."

harry turned to you, giving you the most dead straight look ever. "cut it out, you hit me in the arm three times."

"maybe you were just too close to me."

"i— what?!"

you both stared at each other; harry with a look of shock and slight irritation and you with a serious look that you couldn't quite hold, bursting out in laughter soon after.

"oh my god!" you managed to say in between laughs. "you should see your face!"

"right, let it out. it's not that funny," harry shook his head at your state.

you leaned forward to grab your phone from where you left it, rewinding the last part where harry three the bag in the back. "oh, this is gold."

"you're a right wind up, you know that?" harry said, refusing to give you the satisfaction of know your trick worked on him.

"oh, i know," you smiled at him. "but you live me regardless."

"unfortunately."

"hey," you pushed a hand in his face, instantly groaning when you felt his tongue poke the same hand. "god, just drive."

[answer2jeff]

SHARING SPACE — Carmen Berzatto.

synopsis: just a blurb, how you ended up moving in with Carmen :)

warnings: established relationship, reader is implied female (but little use of specific pronouns), fluffy headcanons, some smutty implications, some smutty implications but still fluff, mentions of alcohol and smoking, blurb is set once they're rebranding The Beef into The Bear.

i need more Carmen fluff this man is my whole life. btw this is super short but i'm sooooo burnt out :'(

It started with you "accidentally" falling asleep in his bed from the night before, panicking and hurrying to put your clothes in the morning before he had to rush to work. You weren't technically dating, but you were too close for comfort to be considered something as shallow as "friends with benefits." It was more than that.

But then things seemed to slow down. It turned into spending an extra ten minutes enveloped in each others arms. You shared, "good mornings" between sickly sweet kisses, his hands feeling up and down your torso while your fingers entangled in his hair. Carmen whispered about how much he didn't want to leave—as much as both of you knew he had to.

"You're gonna be late, Carmy." You'd groan, cupping his clean-shaven face and planting small kisses on his cheeks. Carmen let out a sigh of disappointment, realizing his short moment of bliss would be over the second he thought about leaving.

"I'm gonna clean up, 'kay?" He'd mumble, kissing your sweet lips one last time. His pupils dilated at the sight of you in his sheets, something he wish he didn't have to cherish from how little free time he seemed to have.

"Mhm."

Once he'd hop in the shower, you'd get yourself dressed before pouring him a warm cup of coffee, occasionally placing any dirty dishes stranded in the kitchen in the sink as an act of courtesy. You'd check the time, 7:00am,

As much as it pained you to leave without a proper goodbye, you worried that Carmen needed space- that he didn't have time to pepper kisses along your cheeks before he left.

"Bye Carmy!" You'd call out, but not quite loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom.

He wished you would've stayed just a little longer.

Eventually, you caught on. At one point, you swore you saw Carmen popping his head back into his bedroom to see if you were still there as you were already halfway out the door. From that point on, you started leaving little notes next to his coffee, littered with "I'm so proud of you," and sweet comments like, "break a leg Bear," and sometimes even an "I'll see you soon."

Then it turned into spending all weekend, every weekend, in his apartment—even though you'd been stopping by the restaurant between closing hours, and spending a good hour or two with him every other day of the week.

It just wasn't enough.

You started bringing a share-sized blanket and bottles of your favorite drinks whenever you came over, which was practically 4-5 times a week by that point.That blanket ended up rotating between your apartment and his, until it finally resided on the couch.

Wrapping himself in that blanket whenever you weren't around, reminded him that there was something else to think about; that there was someone else who needed him just as much as he did them.

You started leaving little things like your hoop earrings on the kitchen counter, or your puffer jacket on his coatrack, wondering if they'd still be there by next weekend; wondering if Carmen would ever have the heart to give them back to you. (Spoiler alert, he kept everything you ever "forgot"' in the exact same spot. Having a piece of you in his home at all times seemed to make up for your absence during the week, even if it just made him miss you more.)

Then you started packing extra clothes with you that you'd stuff into an empty drawer in Carmen's dresser. You brought your travel-sized, makeup bag with you, which you just ended up leaving in his bathroom. Along with your meds, and your skin care, and practically everything else you couldn't live without.

...

"You should just move in at this point." Carmen let out a breathy laugh as he watched you do your makeup, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Not even 20 minutes ago, he saw you pick out an entire outfit from the spare clothes you brought, not even realizing that you left a pair of black shoes that went with everything, right in his shoe rack.

"I practically live here now," you paused to put on some mascara, your mouth gaping open as you tried to concentrate, "but my lease is up on the 23rd." You joked, twisting the cap on your mascara back on and tossing it into your makeup bag.

"I mean—would you want to? Live here? With—with me?" He physically turned to look at you, your reflection not giving him enough clarity. He needed to see you, whether you said yes or no. You felt your stomach turn, and the question seemed unreal.

"I— yeah, I guess. Only if you want me to, but that'd be pretty... cool." You turned your head to face him, gazing into his desperate eyes. He needed to be able to call this apartment "ours," not just "his."

This apartment felt more like a home than you than anywhere else you resided in Chicago. You made your commute to work from this apartment, you ate and showered and slept in this apartment, bits and pieces of you were tossed all around this apartment, you brought home every new piece of clothing and jewelry back to this apartment.

Carmen literally made you keep a spare key in your wallet, advising you to come over whenever you needed something—even if he wasn't home. He trusted you with his space,

He took it upon himself to buy you a toothbrush, the shampoo and conditioner you raved about after he complimented your hair, and extra pads/tampons/menstrual cups (since he wasn't sure what you used,) just for when his bathroom would be occupied by you. He cleaned out the hidden cabinet behind the mirror above the sink, making sure you had a place for all of your things. He moved all of his cologne, deodorant, lotion, etc in the cabinet underneath it.

All he ever wanted was to make sure you felt safe.

[shortestcake]

SUCCUMB

Pairing: Pirate!Ellie Williams x Mermaid!reader

Pronouns used: none

Gendered terms: mermaid

Genre: (eventual) fluff+angst+smut

Summary: An infamous pirate seems to have finally bitten off more than she can chew.

// blood/wounds/alcohol mentioned, I don't know anything about ships, or sailing, or even pirates really, ellie is a bit dumb sometimes

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Silver scales glistened from underneath the water, or were they blue? Maybe pink, or green. She couldn't really tell, it was like they'd shift colors at every new angle of reflected light. But that didn't matter all too much. What did matter was that Ellie was about to grasp the biggest catch of her life.

"Fucking Christ— Hey!" Her voice bellowed throughout the ship, yet not loudly enough to garner the attention of her— probably asleep— crewmates. Of course, she could usually manage this on her own; though, in the moment, a helping hand would've been ideal, given the whiskey she enjoyed earlier.

But, not willing to let this gem slip away, she rushes to get the fishing net herself, nearly tumbling due to her drunken state. She practically sprints back once it's in her hold. And, with as much precision as she can muster, Ellie tosses the net. Reeling it back in when it's clear her target was tangled in well enough.

'This was it, this was what you finally got after years of dancing around death', you thought. You were just so curious, the group of young adults, laughing, drinking, dancing, effortlessly caught your eye. They were so muddled after all that liquor, that you assumed surely it'd be harmless to have a closer look. Especially once everyone went inside except for one woman. One mesmerizing woman.

She continues to lug the net upwards, slamming you against the ship's walls occasionally. 'This should last us weeks', she thought to herself, the weight of the fish taking her by surprise. It certainly wasn't the heaviest thing she's carried, but definitely not as light as fish usually are, and also definitely squirmier than fish typically are. Ellie could've sworn she felt a tugging of some sort.

Once over the edge, she choked on her own spit at the sight. Instead of a bug-eyed, all fin and scales— the pirate finds staring back at her a very human-looking pair of eyes. Naturally, her grip falters from the shock, and the net slips back to where she struggled so much to take it from.

Only your yelp snaps her back to reality, just in time to snatch the rope again. She caught it and dragged you back up without thinking, instinctively 'helping' you, now that her brain recognized you as a person and not just a meal.

The two of you just stared at each other, you wanted to curse at her, scream in her face and tackle her— your fucking arms and back hurt so much from how she knocked you into the ship. But you did nothing, after all, you weren't underwater, she clearly had the upper hand. And, as every second passed, you became more unsure of her motives. You initially thought she was one of those people who'd hunt inhuman creatures just for some extra coin. Sell elf teeth by gram, or mermaid scales by the piece. Instead, she looked more lost than you, eyeing you up and down, but not menacingly— it was shocked, curious even.

Finally, she pushed out of her frozen state, rubbing her eyes with her palms. "I'm way too fuckin' drunk for this." She slurred, it would've made you chuckle under other circumstances.

Ellie's mind was running a hundred miles a minute, did she really just accidentally catch a mermaid, how does that even happen?

Maybe this was your chance to slip away, retreat into the ocean, and play it safe. You swore to whatever divinity would listen, you'd never step out of line again if they spared you this once.

A firm grip on your arm stopped you from withdrawing any farther.

Jade eyes bore into yours, fixated on your features as her lips gaped. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to formulate a proper sentence. "You— what—" Asking what you were would've been foolish, so she stopped herself; "What were you doing so close to a ship?".

"Just... curious." You answered carefully, still unable to decipher her character.

The thief hums, not very convinced. Mermaids were supposed to be dangerous to humans. What if you weren't alone? What if she and her friends were in danger? What if—

Before she could think of what to do, a familiar voice rang through the air. "Ellie? Are ya' still out here?" Joel. Suddenly all rational thinking was lost, and Ellie turned back into a teenager trying to avoid a scolding. She pulled you out of the net and hoisted you into her arms, practically throwing you over your shoulder and running to her room.

You instantly started thrashing around, panicked. "Put me down." You hissed, slamming your fists into her back.

"Shut up. Shut up. You'll get us caught!" Now, realistically, she knew she had no reason to be this worried. She was a grown woman, after all, her dad couldn't ground her.

Honestly, it probably would've been easier to let Joel find you, he knew what to do in these situations better anyway. But she was beyond tipsy, and all she could think was 'Potential killing machine on ship, my fault.' over and over.

That's why she locked the door behind her when she reached her cabin, and why she was now pacing.

Ellie finally slowed and glanced back at you. "Doesn't that hurt?" Her finger switched between pointing at your arm and then your tail.

Confused, you follow her index finger, to find two wounds, one worse than the other. It was like the adrenaline numbed you, and now, looking at the damage brought that pain rushing in. "Fuck— must've happened while you dragged me against your ship."

Ellie winced at your comment. She took a deep breath, trying to clear the fog of alcohol from her mind. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, a bit more gently. "I just thought you were a really big fish." She admits, quietly and embarrassed. At that, you let yourself giggle. But your amusement didn't last long when your body decided to remind you of the excruciating pain you were in. You flinched and sucked in a sharp breath.

Now it was her turn to chuckle, just barely, though. "Can you go back out like that?" She asks, and it seems genuine— maybe she's sobered up a bit, you think. "I don't know." You answer honestly, fidgeting your fingers.

"I"m not— Hey, listen!" Poor Jesse, desperately defending himself from his own best friend and girlfriend. "I'm not saying we should just invite mermaids onboard. I'm just saying, hypothetically, if we somehow befriended a mermaid, it'd help us a lot."

"Yeah, or get us killed." Ellie scoffed.

"You know what I mean, dick." He rolled his eyes. "Like, with navigating and—" hiccup "shit."

"Okay, you're drunk." Dina put her hand on his shoulder. "But, I guess, hypothetically, you're right."

Jesse made an 'I told you so' motion with his hands while nodding at the other girl.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Ellie recollected the conversation with her crew mates, chewing on her lip in contemplation.

"Then, you can stay here." She blurted out. This made you look at her like she was the mermaid, and you the pirate.

After a moment of silently blinking up at her, you asked "Why?", a reasonable question, who wouldn't be suspicious under these circumstances.

"We could help each other. I let you stay here, give you food, bandages, and you help us navigate." The offer was tempting, aside from the fact that getting back home in your state would've been a pain, you've also always had a curiosity about humans.

"I just tell you where you to go? Is there some catch?" You ask, still slightly skeptical.

"Nope, these waters are dangerous, and you know them better than anyone else on this ship." She remarks, matter-of-factly.

"Makes sense." You mumble.

"So?"

"So, I'll help."

[captainsophiestark]

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

[astrophileous]

Derek getting jealous over Bug’s pregnancy pillow 🤭🤭🤭 he just doesn’t understand how it can be that much more comfortable than he would be. If Bug makes him snuggle with it post-pregnancy when she needs to sneak out from his arms during the night to check on the baby too? He wakes up like “????”

Nooo but can you imagine how EXASPERATED he is when Bug pulls out the pillow again when she's pregnant with their daughter/Baby Bug???? 😭😭😭

Btw so sorry for the delay, I was stressing FOR DAYS bcs my brain refused to cooperate and write (I think it's back to normal now so YAY)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Not this montrosity again."

Derek nearly whined at the sight of your pregnancy pillow; the one you had stored safely after the birth of your son, and the same one you had pulled out of its resting place now that you were in your second trimester with your daughter. It was a gift from a friend, and Derek was never a fan of it since the first time the pillow found its way into your shared bed.

"Don't say that." You put your palms on either side of the pillow, acting as if you were cupping its ears. "He might hear you."

"Great. So it's a he?!"

"Derek Morgan, you're not seriously jealous over a freaking pillow?"

"I have the right to be when you constantly choose to cuddle with it." You suppressed a giggle when you saw the daggers Derek was shooting its way. "I don't understand why you need the pillow when you have me."

"Because, as much as I love and adore your hard panes and muscles, I need something fluffy to get me sleeping comfortably through the night."

Derek scoffed loudly.

Who would've thought Derek would ever live to see the day he found himself mourning over the fact that he was fucking ripped?

Every night before the two of you went to bed, Derek never failed in throwing the dirtiest, nastiest look in the direction of said pregnancy pillow as if the inanimate object was singlehandedly responsible for ruining his entire life. Derek couldn't be more happy to get rid of it the moment you came home from the hospital with your daughter in your arms. Unfortunately, the man soon realized that getting rid of the offensive item might be a more challenging task than he had ever anticipated in the first place.

"Bug?" Derek mumbled blearily one night as he rose from the light sleep he had accidentally fallen under.

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed with you in his arms. Something about the lull of your voice and the familiar scent of your body wash had managed to make him drift into an unexpected slumber. Derek was putty whenever you were next to him, and he was perpetually alright with that knowledge if it meant he got to keep you constantly by his side.

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness as he stirred, squeezing your flesh wherever his arm could reach. But Derek realized a little too late in his half-awake state that the softness in his hand was, in fact, not you. And it took a few more seconds for him to turn on the bedside lamp to confirm that it wasn't you who was lying in his arms.

It was the fucking pillow.

Derek grabbed the object with utter disgust, stomping through the house until he found you in the nursery. You were sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your infant daughter in your arms, when you looked up at the sound of the door opening. Your head immediately threw back in laughter once you saw the look of contempt that Derek was aiming towards the pillow in his hand.

"What's wrong, Derek?"

"I woke up to this in my arms."

"Did you have a good sleep cuddling with the pillow?" You snickered, enjoying the way Derek's frown deepened with frustration. "I told you it's comfy."

Derek scowled at your cheeky wink, refusing to relent even if deep down he had also begrudgingly started to agree with that sentiment.

After that night, you never heard him threaten to throw out the pregnancy pillow, ever again.

[semisolidmind]

For the Lion’s Den AU, what was it like when Wukong and Macaque first met Peaches? Love at first sight? Didn’t really notice her until she did/said something? Did they meet her separately or together?

(i briefly mention how they met in one of the earlier lion's den posts, but i guess i should give it some explanation)

reader attends her first meeting understandably apprehensive. she was told explicitly by azure not to draw too much attention to herself, given the nature of his comrades. he would defend her if needed, of course, but she would have to be prepared for their... disapproval, if it arose. she began to imagine what truly frightening beings may be behind the gilded doors that lead to the council hall.

the three demons already seated at the large table were not at all what reader was expecting.

they were worse.

azure failed to mention that his allies were none other than the dreaded monkey king, the six-eared macaque, and the demon bull king. anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention to local gossip had at least heard of these three; the tales of the bloodshed and ruin that followed in their wake were known across the land.

reader had seen it firsthand when the occasional survivors of their conquests would make their way (bloodied, broken, and burned) into her village begging for shelter.

truly a terrifying band.

even more terrifying was the way reader made accidental eye contact with the monkey king every time she dared to glance upward. she'd look down as soon as his golden pupils shot over to her, but reader could feel them on her for a few moments afterwards. even looking away, she could sense the way his sight would drift over to her every time he would address azure; the seating arrangement (azure on one end of the table, reader right next to him, with the monkey king on the other) didn't give her anywhere to hide.

she had to admit, the simian demon was more... upbeat? than she expected? despite his appearance, he acted not as a conquering warlord meeting with his allies to discuss how best to subdue their enemies, but as a man sharing a table with his friends. he joked, he laughed, he talked about old stories.

and what surprised reader the most... was that the demons around him joined in.

were reader not horribly aware that she sat among some of the most powerful demon lords in the world, she'd have felt as though she were back in her village listening to the farmhands after a hard day's work.

it was unsettling knowing that these were the monsters who had killed many innocent people just like those farmhands, and felt no remorse.

reader couldn't wait for this meeting to be over.

---

wukong couldn't wait for this meeting to be over.

as much as he enjoyed talking with azure and the brotherhood, he was much more interested in the human woman azure had brought with him. he could tell macaque was interested, too; any mortal that could catch the interest of one so goal-driven as azure lion must be something special.

wukong really wanted to know what her deal was. but, as much as he would've liked to call on her during the meeting, he got the feeling she'd freeze in fear if he brought attention to her that way. she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

there were little tears at the corner of her eyes the last time she accidentally looked at him.

...it was kinda adorable.

the monkey king glanced over at his brother, finding him staring at the woman as well; seems he'd had the same idea. it also seemed like reader hadn't noticed macaque looking at her in favor of keeping tabs on wukong (which was kinda flattering; he half-jokingly decided that meant she liked him more).

wukong came up with a spilt-second plan. he hid his mouth behind thoughtfully steepled fingers (he was only pretending to listen to the battle strategies being discussed anyway) and whispered it so that only his ever-vigilant brother could hear him.

once the meeting was over, the brotherhood had dispersed outside to get some fresh air. the monkey king crossed the courtyard, intent on distracting azure. he asked the general to take stock of a recent battle so that he and a nearby scribe could make note of it. though azure was a tad confused (shouldn't they have done that right after the battle happened?), he begins to list off information such as casualties, equipment lost, rations used, etc.

conveniently taking the lion's attention away from his little companion, who seemed to be wandering off toward a grove of fruit trees a ways away from the courtyard.

wukong flicked his tail in a certain way, meaningless to anyone but his brother, who took that as his signal.

the shadowmaster sunk into his namesake as soon as eyes were no longer on him.

wukong will join up with them later, once his side of the plan is complete.

---

macaque usually didn't pay much attention to mortals, aside from when he was killing them.

but the fact that the ever-so-honorable (more like hypocritical) azure lion had a little mortal woman at his side? well...that was certainly interesting.

macaque knew that azure was much gentler when it came to human commoners, letting them escape before raiding their towns. the shadowy simian found it amusing that the lion believed he was being merciful; a crowd of defenseless humans with nowhere to go, out in the wilderness? they were basically a demon buffet. and if demons didn't get them, wild animals or the elements would.

deciding to keep that observation in his back pocket for the next time azure nagged him about killing villagers, macaque stepped out of the shadows. the human sat a short distance away, leaned back against a flowering tree. it looked like she was admiring the scenery, completely unaware of him.

what did azure call her...? reader?

hm. azure could've picked anything to give her as a protective pseudonym, and he chose that? wonder what that could possibly say about her. she doesn't really look the academic type.

although, now that he's able to see her a little closer...

perhaps the six-eared demon could understand why the lion was taken with this human, at least physically. she's pretty, she's got nice proportions...but if looks were all that mattered, there's definitely more outwardly attractive humans to choose. her appearance can't be all there is. so, macaque decides to speak to her.

he calls out, casually asking her how she's enjoying the view. she startles and begins to rush out apologies and promises that she didn't mean to come here, she didn't realize she wasn't supposed be here, she didn't mean any harm by it, she'll leave—

macaque laughs, genuinely. she definitely used to be a servant or lower class, no one of any sort of status would apologize just for being somewhere. he goes and sits himself down next to her before she can stand and run away.

he can practically feel her trembling—oh. oh, she's starting to tear up a little...but she's putting on such a brave face.

macaque's pupils dilate a little.

she's just too precious.

after assuring her she's not in trouble, he asks her about herself; where'd she come from, what was her life like before, how did she meet azure?

now that was an interesting story. she actually nursed the stupid cat back to health, despite the fact that he's a big, scary demon? she's brave, he'll give her that. her story would certainly explain why azure took a shine to her. macaque jokingly asks reader if she regularly took demons in, or if azure was just a special case—because he really wouldn't mind being taken care of by her, he says flirtatiously. reader laughs a little at that.

the demons' six ears twitch. he likes that sound, he decides.

macaque can tell reader's getting more comfortable with him. she's opening up, even joking back at him. the attractive blush on her face makes him want to tease her more. the darker-furred demon finds that he likes it when she flusters at a compliment.

he kinda...doesn't want to stop talking with her. it's so easy, like he's always known her.

of course, that's when wukong shows up.

---

wukong had managed to sit through all of azure lion's report without falling asleep, which was an accomplishment all on it's own. afterwards, he managed to get yellowtusk on a long-winded lecture on...something or other, which he always insisted his brothers sit for.

having successfully trapped azure and peng in a manners-mandated lesson (one he knew would keep them for a good while; once the old elephant got started talking, he was difficult to stop), wukong excused himself to "check on dinner preparations." he sped off on his cloud toward where the kitchens were, intent on making a u-turn where the others couldn't see.

if azure wanted to follow, he'd have to interrupt his brother; something wukong knew he'd be hesitant to do.

with that taken care of, the simian ruler quickly tracked his little mark, finding her and his brother under a flowering peach tree. deciding to eavesdrop on their conversation, he stepped gently from his cloud onto the branches above them.

after a moment listening to them (and getting a little jealous that mac had managed to get her to laugh, which was a pretty sound he wanted aimed at him), wukong swung down, shaking some flower petals free, landing gracefully in a crouch at reader's feet. he cheekily apologizes for "dropping in" so unexpectedly.

at her frightened gasp and backpedal, wukong rushes to reassure her he means no harm. he's just curious, he wants to hear her story too, honest! he keeps his tone gentle and playful, and attempts to be as non-threatening as possible (which is tough, since he knows his reputation precedes him).

when reader finally manages to speak (thanks to a little encouragement from macaque), wukong perks up. she doesn't seem as scared of his brother anymore at least, which is a very good sign. as she tells her story, he takes in her features up close.

after hearing how she cared for azure, wukong unknowingly echoes his brother's earlier sentiment; he kinda wants reader to take care of him, too.

he sees how her eyes shine with dewy unshed tears, her face flushed at the demons' proximity (they're both in her space, macaque practically leaning against her shoulder and wukong sitting so close in front that their knees were touching). he notices the way the dappled sunlight hits her skin, the way her lashes frame her eyes. he notes the way loose peach blossom petals decorate her hair. he has to stop himself from reaching out to tuck the little strands that have escaped her updo back into place.

wukong finds himself becoming a bit enamored. his tail curls a bit, and his smile becomes gentler the longer he looks at her.

after talking with her for a while and sharing his and macaque's own stories, wukong realizes that they've been gone for a few hours; the sun is beginning to set, the grove taking on a golden hue. they should probably actually go check on dinner, and (regrettably) return reader to azure.

buuuuut....maybe not right away.

wukong offers reader a tour of the stone palace before she leaves.

---

reader didn't know what was happening.

why was she able to speak with these— these murderers so easily? she should be running away, she should be excusing herself back to azure's side as politely and quickly as she could!

but...but she was having fun. she was having a friendly chat with the monkey king and six-eared macaque of all demons—and laughing, for heaven's sake.

though most of it stemmed from her fear of offending them, the fact that she's speaking with them at all feels like a betrayal of her race. these two, on their own, had killed hundreds, possibly thousands of humans. they could change their minds about playing nice at any moment.

but—but in this light, in this context...they were almost like any ordinary men. were it not for their obviously demon appearances (though reader couldn't say the two were unattractive; the soft glow of the evening light did them many favors), their status, their bloody history—reader could consider them good company.

thinking about it made her want to cry, like she'd been on the verge of the entire time she'd been on this mountain. she wanted to go home and have that cry in the privacy of her bedchambers.

so when the monkey king (he insisted she call him wukong) offered to take her on a tour of the palace, reader thoroughly considered refusing, politeness be damned. she should really just go back to the monster she knows, not run off with one she doesn't.

however, she was curious about what the rest of the cave looked like. she and azure had entered through the massive water curtain, been lead through a large foliage-infested pavilion full of wukong's chattering simian subjects, into the reception hall, and then immediately into the council room. she hadn't gotten to see much, but what she did see she considered very beautiful.

reader, through her anxiety, had marveled at everything she saw. flower fruit mountain was so...alive compared to camel ridge. she preferred it here, at least in that way.

maybe...maybe going on a little tour wouldn't be so bad. it'd give her an excuse for her absence from azure's side, for one (though it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong by not being next to her kidnapper every second). he could stand to not have her near for a few more hours. plus, how could he say no to something as innocent as a tour? and if the eager look on the monkey king's face along with the coaxing smile on macaque's were any indication, they probably weren't going to take "no" for an answer.

well, reader thought in a resigned manner, she'd already gotten this far. what was the harm in spending a little more time with these two?

[blingblong55]

This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has. 

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful. 

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life. 

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass. 

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good. 

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?" 

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk." 

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone. 

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks. 

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks. 

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home. 

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow. 

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers. 

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back. 

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was. 

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away. 

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has. 

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today. 

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you? 

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name. 

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart. 

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You. 

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you. 

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring. 

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks. 

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks. 

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town. 

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town. 

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you. 

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real. 

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body. 

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place. 

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

[withlove-xixi]

— BABY FEVER: chilchuck x f!reader

ᥫ cw: pregnancy + established relationship, also one inuendo ᥫ wc: 2841 ★ this has been stuck on my mind for sooo long! i jst want it to be a bit silly teehee >_<! cross posted on ao3

— THERE ARE TIMES WHEN INSTINCT JUST KICKS IN

[♡]: for chilchuck, his instincts kicked in as often as you'd think (especially with laios as a party leader). it was a trait his colleagues admired him for, it made him responsible, dependable. it was a trait chilchuck prided himself it— was he to blame when it came in so handy? though of all the times his instinct saved his ass, there was one he'd have been far more at peace dealing with on his own.

CHILCHUCK'S KEEN SENSES COME IN HANDY.

As a half-foot, his senses were better than other races, having the ability to hear better and smell better, to an extent. He would be alert too with the things he'd sense, shifts in temperature, whispers in the wind. It all came in handy in the dungeon, where Chilchuck would always be first to sniff out any danger.

Like the last time he had ventured down there with the party and Laios had clumsily triggered a trap on accident.

There was a sound, so soft it was nearly silent. It grates in Chilchuck's ear, causing his brows to furrow slightly. Usually in the dungeon, there were all sorts of strange noises Chilchuck normally wouldn't give a second thought to, but this was different. It was louder, therefore closer, therefore— "EVERYBODY RUN." Not a second wasted as everyone quickly followed Chilchuck's instruction, sprinting far and fast into the next room as the walls behind them began to close in on each other. Of course once everyone got to safety, they had thanked and praised him for his quick reaction, saving everyone from another death. Chilchuck had sighed, assessing everyone's safety before promptly going to Laios to scold him for his clumsiness.

Chilchuck's experience comes in handy too.

Whether it was picking locks, bargaining for deals, or patching up worn clothes, Chilchuck's experience always came in clutch.

It was a while back when you two had first moved in together in Chilchuck's house. Chilchuck was proud of your decision, enjoying the newfound domesticity that came with it. "STOP FUCKING YELLING, CALM DOWN!" As domestic as things can get, you supposed. He had clicked his tongue in frustration, wedging one of his tools against his lips and he worked on picking the lock with another. Sweat had dripped down his forehead, sticking stray strands of his bangs against his skin as he worked. He could hear you speak, something a bit panicked and muffled. He had huffed through his nose, if he wasn't holding his tool in his mouth, he would've scolded you again. Of course, he already had and was planning to scold you some more once he got you out of the locked storage room. How could you be so foolish as to break the lock on accident? You were literally living with a locksmith for crying out loud. Once he had gotten you out though (which he himself found miraculous, because you really did some serious damage to the lock) and found you all frazzled and sweaty, and decided to spare you the lecture for now. Chilchuck had wrapped you in his arms and promised to fix the lock in the morning.

Combined, forms what becomes Chilchuck's instinct. He's proud of the person he's grown to be; proud of the big things he's able to do with his instinct, like keeping his friends out of danger when working in the dungeon, and little things too, like last week when he quickly caught the glass you had accidentally knocked off the dining table. While he'd never admit it, it always made him feel warm inside, knowing he had the ability to protect the people he cared about.

Only now, he felt less warm about the feeling and more like he needed to puke right this instant.

Chilchuck cannot recall when he started to truly notice things, but he remembers smaller details scattered around the past few weeks (Gods, had it nearly been a month?). He remembers going out to get you some food you had been whining about craving for a while, he remembers you grouchily scolding him for something then apologizing to him tearfully not ten minutes after.

But when exactly did it start?

Chilchuck's instinct kicked in far too quickly for him to even register that something was up. With you, he had always been more protective, of course he had to be twice as alert as when he was in the dungeon. But this turned out to be his downfall.

Because last night when he pulled you closer to him, his hand brushed over your belly and he instantly freezes. He felt it, and as soon as he did, he realized what it was — what it meant.

A small bump. A small bump he might not have even noticed but it was you, he's notice if you had lost an eyelash.

There was no denying it. You were, based off all the obvious signs he really should've seen sooner, pregnant. And Chilchuck didn't know what to feel. On one hand, he's quite happy, excited even. That's his baby in your belly. It's the same part of him that feels somewhat proud of it, a way to show off that he was truly yours, and you were truly his. It was sweet. He felt warm.

On the other hand, he was totally fucked. For one thing, this was never planned. Sure, the conversation of kids came up every now and then, but he never thought it might've actually happened. He was certain that you both were well into the age where it was nearly impossible for this to happen. Of course it wasn't entirely a bad thing. Chilchuck's survived three daughters, what's another kid? But it's so agonizing to even begin to imagine the rest of his life with an unplanned kid (as happy as Chilchuck is to have another one, he's not as happy to have his perfect little life for two be so suddenly changed without prior notice).

Another thing is his daughters. Sure, his daughters were old enough, they were mature too. He's certain he's raised them well enough to handle the situation with grace, but another sibling? From their 29 year old dad? He's knows they wouldn't mind too much, in fact Puck and Fler might be more than excited to have a new sibling. But as much as he knows that, he knows it would be awkward (though he fears it would be awkward mostly for him, but awkward nonetheless), it would be a bit strange for the girls to have to watch a new sibling grow up when they're already old.

Oh my gods. Oh my gods, did you even know?

It was the thought that rang in Chilchuck's head as he paced around the kitchen, hand on his chin, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

Chilchuck's certainly figured it out, but did you? As silly as it is for a pregnant woman not to notice (especially when it was beginning to be noticeable for others), it wasn't entirely impossible. The same happened when they had Meijack, but then they had both caught onto the signs very early on (it helped too that they had been going on regular check ups for it). This time? Gods, Chilchuck was certain you hadn't noticed. You had no reason to hide it from him after all, and even if you were trying to, you were acting far too normal to raise any suspicion.

Chilchuck's mind races with all sorts of thoughts but one thing rings clear, he has to tell you about the pregnancy.

How is the bigger thought that follows. For sure he could just sit you down and explain things. You weren't some child that needed sugarcoating, it wouldn't change the fact that you were pregnant anyway. But still, it felt strange to do it like that (that and Chilchuck wpuld like to avoid direct conforntation as much as he can, even with you).

Maybe he could tell you over dinner? Prepare a nice meal, one of your favorites or something you've been craving, and tell you then when you're all comfortable and happy. But it felt a bit disingenuous. Plus it would basically be like sugarcoating the whole ordeal.

He could try to tell you indirectly? Write a letter about it and ask you to open it only when Chil was out of the house. Though it wouldn't work because he knows you'd attempt to beat him to death as soon as he stepped through the front door, and as the new father-to-be (as if he isn't already a father) wanted to be there when you know. He wants to see how you'd react, and he'd want to be there for you.

Perhaps he would take you to the doctor for a "routine check up" and have the doctor tell you instead. Though it wouldn't work because he knows you'd beat him to death as soon as you realize he knew beforehand and the whole doctor's trip was a set-up. But it would be nice to have a check up for the baby then and there too, kill two birds with one stone.

Chilchuck sighs in defeat, completely clueless on how to tell you. From what he sees, there are two valid and plausible options; one, he ask help from a friend to help him set up something nice so he could announce the news to you in a gentle and elegang manner; or two, he pretends not to know and wait until you figure out on your own.

Option two would be best. Right on time because as soon as he decides on the (cowardly) route to take, he hears the wooden door creak and you huff in exhaustion. Immediately, he rushes to your side, kissing your temple and taking away the heavy groceries from your hands (because pregnant women shouldn't be carrying heavy things).

"You're sweet tonight, Chil," you say playfully. "Did you do something bad?"

You hold half the fault. He thinks as he carries the groceries to the kitchen. "Can't I be sweet to my favorite girl?"

You giggle and he sighs with relief, letting go of breath he didn't know he was holding. He places the groceries on the counter, a basket full of assorted fruits, two loaves of bread, a jug of milk, a bottle of wine, and good gods, how the hell did you carry all these on your own? Chilchuck's begins to wonder if maybe you weren't pregnant and were simply getting a bit chubbier (he certainly was) and maybe all the mood swings were from your period coming up, and maybe your body aches were from working yourself too hard, and maybe your cravings were from your period coming up also.

The brief moment of silence in his mind that everything might've been product of his overthinking ends abruptly when he hears you stumble to the bathroom and immediately hears you puke after.

Again, he's rushing to your side, holding stray strands of hair back and soothingly rubbing circles on your back. He coos gently at you, calming you down.

"I'll get you some water," he says, though he only attempts to leave the bathroom when you nod in confirmation.

In the kitchen, he tries to calm himself as more thoughts and worries go through his head. On one hand, option two is a nice easy way out of confrontation. You get to figure it out all on your own and Chilchuck and live a nice happy rest of his twenty or so years with the love of his life telling the silly story of how she found out about their kid. On the other, surely you must be suffering a lot. It must be strange to you to feel all these symptoms but have no clue as to what's causing them if you had even thought each were relating to the same source. It would be better to man up and tell you so you'd at least have something to blame for being grouchy or wanting to eat grilled kraken parasite again. But again, if he tells you now, you'd be a bit frustrated for not knowing it sooner. Though wouldn't you be more frustrated to keep going through these unknown symptoms? And—

There's a strained huff behind him that pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Woah hey, what're doing?" He asks as he rushes to you for the third time that evening. He sets the glass of water down on the counter next to the groceries and tries to wrestle the basket of fruit from your hands.

"Putting away the groceries, Chil, what does it look like I'm doing?" You ask, giving him a small glare, clearly somewhat annoyed.

"Here, let me do it." He offers, finally taking the basket from your hands.

You pout at him, which would normally be very dangerous bit Chilchuck's thinking enough to remember pregnant women shouldn't carry heavy things, but let him take the fruit anyway. Chilchuck smiles at you first to try and put you at ease before he goes to grab a step stool. He sets it down and begins reaching for a pretty bowl to display the fruit in. Thank gods you were being somewhat reasonable (he recalls how a few days ago you were being very insistent you didn't need his help with directions in a bazaar at the other side of town and got yourself lost for a bit and he mentally curses at himself for so foolishly letting a pregnant woman wander around aimlessly in a hot, crowded marketplace) and prays lady luck would string him some more miracles as he continues working with option two—

There's a clink and a pop below him that pulls him out of his thoughts.

Chilchuck nearly drops the bowl he's holding (which would definitely have gotten him beat to death for) as he exclaims, "H-hey! What do you think you're doing?"

You look up at him with a confused look, stopping your pour of wine only when the glass is shy of being half-full. "What is it now?" You ask and he can definitely hear the growing frustration in your tone. "I haven't had the best day, I just want to unwind a bit."

There's a panicked look on his face as he steps down from the stool. "You can't." The way his says it makes your eyebrows tilt downwards to glare at him.

"And why not?" You ask, your tone turning from sour to angry.

Chilchuck sets the bowl down next to the forgotten glass of water. "Well, why should you? There are other ways to unwind you know?" He says without thinking much and begins to set the fruit in the bowl, trying his best not to raise anymore suspicion.

There's a silence that falls in the kitchen and Chilchuck is scared he was getting beat anyway. But then he hears the distinct sound of a wine bottle and a wine glass clink against the counter (of course those small sounds would be familar to a man like Chilchuck) and it takes all his power not to heave a sigh of relief.

Short lived relief because when you wrap your arms around his torso you whisper in his ear, "hm, what sort of other ways, Chil?"

Startled, he jolts upwards and drops an apple. "I didn't... I-I didn't mean it like that!" Chilchuck says, almost in a scolding manner but his face grows red so it's quite difficult to even discern his tone.

You hum again, pressing your face against his neck just so your nose brushes against his skin and your hot breath warms it up. Oh this really would've been dangerous for Chilchuck. "Not like you to have cold feet." You say in a teasing manner, but Chilchuck can feel his stress levels rising too much to even be a bit riled up by you right now.

He turns and grabs you by the shoulders. "Really, I didn't mean that." He says somewhat sternly, but he quickly gives you a shaky smile when he sees the corners of your lips twitch downward.

Your eyes study his and he feels like maybe option two was the worse of two evils. Your lips press into a thin line, clearly you sense something is up, it's evident in the way you're ready to pounce at him with all sorts of unbelieve accusations.

He lets go of your shoulders and sighs in defeat. "It's complicated," he says, almost dejectedly.

And you frown at his tone. You carefully place a hand on his cheek, he turns his head to kiss your palm.

"Anything wrong, you can tell me, Chilchuck." You say in such a reassuring tone, he's almost ready to just spill the beans.

And really, he is.

At the end of the day, he gets to be with you. It's all he's ever wanted since he fell hard and fast for your beauty and wit and warmth, and now you both get to send the rest of your domestic fantasies come true with a kid; a kid that's his and yours, in a house that's his and yours, living a life that will be only his and yours.

Chilchuck smiles gently, genuinely. What's going through some trouble now if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life with you?

[caitchercatlady]

Not Having a Good Time

-Heartslabyul Version

Note: Hey, everyone. So I've had these stories on the back burner for quite a bit, and I do have intentions to work on more than just this one imagines series. I hope you guys like this one nonetheless first <3

Riddle Rosehearts

As much of a stickler Riddle is for keeping the peace, unless it's necessary not to, he can tell when someone is not in the mood for nonsense in the exhausted sense of the word. He will ask to speak with you in private, away from any snickering and gossip.

"Queen's Rule #568: Grievances must be shared over a cup of lavender tea and the griever's favorite treat."

You and Riddle will enjoy this occasion in the quiet side of the garden, where Riddle allows you to rant about your issues as he listens with open ears. Riddle always had Trey and Chen'ya who would listen to his problems, so it was only right as a Housewarden to act upon his position with you, even if you aren't his house student.

He knows it's not the permanent solution, but, while also warning not to tell anyone that this happened, he gives you a hug of comfort, lifting your spirits just a little.

Trey Clover

You have your head to the floor, so you don't notice Trey approaching when you accidentally bump into him and step on the tip of his shoe. Already distressed enough as it is, you apologize profusely. Trey smirks as he replies:

"It is just a shoe, not my mother's flower garden. Why don't you walk with me?"

As Vice Housewarden, the solver of the majority of the dorm's problems and the mediator of all squabbles, it is Trey's natural instinct to approach you the moment he sees the frown on your face. He allows you to express your grievances as you walk through the campus garden.

Trey believes the best way to release stress is a nice baking session. He even lets you do the kneading and taste testing steps.

Cater Diamond

Even though you just want to be alone in Ramshackle Dorm, prior to your return to your dorm, Cater couldn't help but notice how stressful you've felt all week if your account is proof of anything. He couldn't help but send you a DM on MagiCam.

Your latest pic is looking pretty gloomy. If you wanna talk, spam me as much as you like. -CayCay <3

You gladly take the offer since you felt comfortable ranting not face-to-face. You can tell that Cater is reading them by reacting to each message you send with an alternate sad or a heart emoji.

As a peacemaking offering, Cater tells you that if you are ever interested in doing a "Cay Cay pampering session," he'd be at your dorm in half a finger snap to help clear the stress from your mind.

Ace Trappola

When you're not feeling your best, the last you need is someone or something to make it worse. Ace didn't get on your best side as he pulled off the "dunk your face into your lunch" prank today. He didn't react so nicely when you told him off, but after realizing what had gone on prior to that prank, he finds you during flying class to try to make things up for what he did.

"Yuu...what happened at lunch today, I'm sorry. I should've just said, "Hi," and asked how you were doing. I didn't know you were already mad. Please forgive me. If you can't, let me make it up to you somehow."

If Ace wasn't sincere, you supposed he would've waited until after class was over to apologize. Now that he was listening, you let out everything that had been going on before Ace pulled off the prank. You also express the "I message," which Ace is more than willing to accept.

With Vargas busy with...whatever Vargas is doing, Ace offers you to go on a flying ride with him. A little entertainment screaming would do you some good to make you forget about your problems...even just a little.

Deuce Spade

Deuce finds it odd that you've been less chatty as of late. You barely even spoke when the professors pointed to you for answers to their questions. He catches you after class and asks what's happening. He's all ears to hearing you out. That's when you finally respond, and he feels the pain with every word that comes out of you.

"Ah geez, Yuu. I'm really sorry. I think I've been feeling it, too, and when I'm feeling that way, I need a Blastcycle ride. Wanna go on one right now?"

You don't find that to be a bad idea, so you guys head out and take a campus ride to let the issues out of your hair. The island is lovely enough for its wind to brush it right out.

[fashion-foxy]

You know something that's odd to me? How weirdly the child of the Beauty and the Beast get handled in media. (Obviously, my only examples are EAH and Descendants, but walk with me on this.)

The Beauty is someone who will, for better or for worse, always see the best in everyone. They are kind and good-natured but is usually someone who still holds people accountable for their actions and intentions, not what the Beauty thinks their intentions are.

The Beast is someone who typically does not look past the surface level of a person out of stupidity or willful ignorance. The Beast is also very selfish ,closed-minded , and stubborn. Unfortunately , that means in retellings, the Beast is the only one to go a character arc, and the Beauty comes off as judgmental or too forgiving.

Both characters being foils means that it could be a bit challenging to portray a character that is a result of both of those personalities, but if done right, it creates a very interesting character!

So, what did EAH and Descendants do with what they were given?!

Well, for starters, a bad job, but you already knew that. Let's take a look at Rosabella Beauty and Benjamin Florian No Last Name Given. (Idk most Descendants characters don't have last names)

Rosabella is judgemental, which could definitely actually be a super cool thing that she got from her dad, but based off the fact that she didn't go on an arc and it didn't get presented as a character flaw, I suspect this was accidental. Which is real shame. It would've been a really cool concept to explore Rosabella actually being the Beast.

She is also, by not getting any meaningful character development, giving off major 'I could fix him' vibes with Daring. Except, she's ignoring what's actually wrong in his life and looking at surface level interpretations of what she thinks he's like. Then, deciding he's a self-centered narcissist who she needs to fix so he meets her standards. Hey, wait a spell. She kind of seems to embody more of the Beast characteristics than the Beauty's. I wonder if the writers might have had other plans but were forced to change her into something else or perhaps Mattel wanted to sell a doll of her and Daring so they had to awkwardly force a relationship and not use their original plans?

Ben is way too forgiving. When we first see him, he says that he wants to give the Isle kids (kids who were born to villians who've been trapped in a magic prison all their life) a chance at a normal life, which is great! It's probably one of the best things a 16 year old king could do. So when's the next time he forgives someone? When he tells Mal that he knows she drugged him. So, it's at this point where you kinda realize that he isn't being too forgiving he's trapped in an abusive relationship. Once he sees that Mal realizes the implications of that, he goes back on it, and he tells her that it's not that big of a deal that it's ok that he still loves her.

When's the next time something like this happens? When Mal tries to erase some of his memories after catching her lying about using magic. He obviously yells at her because that's a fucked up thing to do. She downplays the situation and makes excuses. Shortly after, she runs back to the Isle. Ben, assuming that she had the best intentions, blames himself and ultimately gets kidnapped and then drugged again. All of these interactions are all portrayed as 'his fault' and that he'd deserved everything that happened to him because he was holding Mal responsible for her actions. In the third movie, he even stops doing it. Hades asks him why an Auradon kid gets to be excused and why everyone on the Isle doesn't, and he looks at Mal but ignores the question. Mal doesn't answer because she's the reason this Auradon person (Audrey) is hurt because she ruined her life and is currently being excused by everyone, including the writers, but Audrey won't. Ben definitely won't.

So, aren't these the best portrayals of the Beauty and the Beast characteristics? Because mixing the traits incorrectly. If Ben was given more Beast characteristics than just roaring sometimes. Mal wouldn't be abusive if their were actually moments where Ben was being unreasonable and too quick to draw surface level conclusions.

Rosabella wouldn't come off as rude and judgemental if she was given more Beauty characteristics. If Daring was actually self-centered and Rosabella considered others and thought about others instead of drawing conclusions.

[hotxcheeto]

hii can you write a Caitlyn x fem reader where the reader wakes up in Caitlyn's bed, appearing that they had hooked up the night before and Caitlyn asking if they would stay for breakfast and the reader being all nervous etc.

i love your work btw <33

━ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, both reader and caitlyn are described as nude, sexual innuendos, flirting, a kiss at the end, mentions of consuming alcohol ( past ), mentions of being drunk ( past )

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah but I'm tired/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - so sorry this has taken this flipping long! thank you so much for the request, ily sm!! hope you enjoy <3

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD! IT'S APPRECITATED!

The morning sun burned against your skin with delicious warmth. Sheer curtains swaying in the breeze, it made for a peaceful awakening after a not so peaceful night out.

The large window practically blinded you though when your eyes finally cracked open. Your heading turning on instinct, trying to look away from it.

Your brain felt like it pounded against your skull and a faint taste of alcohol resided on your tongue, you glanced around at the ceiling. Trying to gather your thoughts, trying to remember what chaos you'd gotten into. And if you needed to apologize to any poor soul out there that you might've accidentally tortured.

That's when it dawned on you. The ceiling. It wasn't your own, too fancy, and that fact alone made you realize it wasn't one of your friend's ceilings either.

That's when she shifted, just slightly, her hair tickling your chest when you peered down. For a moment you kind of hoped it was a wild animal. At least you wouldn't be embarrassed when it awoke.

Blue, that's the first observation you had, the strands were a dark blue. Pretty if not the circumstances.

And you weren't wearing a shirt.

That was the second observation.

Great.

At that moment, you swore your breath hitched and you looked back up a the ceiling. It was like pretending she'd go away if you didn't look at her. One, two three, and poof. But this wasn't a magic show.

And again, she moved, making it more real than you would've liked.

When the fuck did you meet her last night.

"Well aren't you a flirt.."

She had a thick accent, you remembered it. It's what caught your attention in the first place, the way things just rolled off her tongue. There are plenty of accents where you come from, but you liked hers. It felt elegant, sophisticated.

Maybe it was because she was pretty, but you replied to it.

"I try my damnedest, that's for sure. Now why are you alone?"

You don't remember what she said. Maybe she wasn't alone, maybe she was for a good reason. You racked your brain, but you couldn't remember.

For a moment, the brief idea of leaving and never looking back shook your mind. Grab whatever garments of yours you could find on the floor and make a break for it, but then you shook it away. How the fuck would you manage sneaking out of an enforcers house?

Yeah, you remembered that tiny detail.

The blue hair could only belong to one girl with that accent, Caitlyn Kiramman, and for fucks sake, you ended up in her bed.

"Hm..." She shifted again, sitting up and rubbing her face. Slowly looking around her room as you awkwardly watched her, and something inside you prayed she wouldn't turn to see your face.

But that would be too easy.

"I- uh... would've left but..." You tried to joke, sitting up when she finally pulled away. There was a faint smile on her face, her soft eyes still holding sleep as she examined your expression.

"Sorry..." She'd blushed, cheeks painted in a tint of pink while you tried to avoid staring right into her pupils. "Nah, it's fine." You replied quietly, awkwardly trying to look everywhere but at her.

Your hands were very interesting this time of day, wow you needed to take better care of your nails.

"Did we..." She began to ask, but she'd already knew the answer. Her flustered state only increasing when you nodded your head. "Huh.." Was all she then said, sitting up further while leaning her head on her palm. Her arm resting on her leg.

"I can just get my clothes and-"

"Leaving so soon?"

You looked at her with slightly wide eyes, pausing from any action you'd begun to take to get up. The blanket hovering around your waist but your chest was exposed and you didn't even try to cover up.

Mostly because you were in a state of slight shock.

"I mean- I-" You stuttered, keeping your eyes on her face as to not accidentally get a nice examination of anything else. "I don't want to bother." The sentence finally strung together.

"Who said you'd be bothering?"

Her voice made you want to reach forward and repeat every interaction from last night. But instead, you swallowed, taking in a deep breath. You still felt like you were gonna fall through the floor, there would be no continuation even if you wanted it.

Get it together, damn.

"I.." Caitlyn interrupted you though, "I mean, you can leave if you'd like. But I would like you to stay." Your mouth shut, and you debated your next words carefully whilst biting the inside of your lip.

"Why?"

It came out smaller then you would've liked, you almost sounded afraid. But the enforcer in front of you understood it was nerves, chuckling at your reaction.

"You gave me a good conversation last night, if you... remember?" You laughed slightly, earning a bit of a wider grin from her. "And, I'd like to continue it a little further, if you'd indulge me."

She'd definitely done this before.

The thought popped into the front of your head before you got the chance to stop it. Again you felt like shriveling up and falling right over. Anything would be better then how she was looking at you as you processed what she said.

Like she wanted to reach forward and actually repeat every action from the night before.

"I really liked you last night."

Your face burned, though not visible, it burned. Turning around and screaming into the fluffy pillows would be beneficial about now. It was like being a teenager whilst talking to your crush for the first time. Only it wasn't your first time, you were just sober now.

"I liked you too, from what I remember." She giggled, laying back down beside you. Basking in the way your eyes followed her form as she spread out on the mattress.

"You were quite drunk, huh?" Caitlyn teased, loving the way you playfully scoffed and rested your back on the headboard. "So were you." "At least I can handle my liquor, Y/n."

You sarcastically laughed, shaking your head and looking forward.

"I can.. just not when I see pretty girls that make me nervous, Caitlyn."

"Nervous?" She asked, placing her head on her palm.

"Do I make you nervous?"

Yes, you absolutely do.

"A little." You replied.

A lot.

"Well... if that's the case, maybe we can calm those nerves while eating?" She must've noticed the slight raise in your eyebrows and once again she began to laugh. Shaking her head and sitting up slightly once again.

"I mean breakfast." She clarified, your mouth unintentionally moving into the shape of an 'o', nodding your head. "Depends, will it be just us?"

Caitlyn smiled, leaned forward towards you, so close her breath fanned your face. Her lips inches from your own, catching all the confidence you had and ripping it apart.

"If you'd like. Unless you want to take my parents on the date too?"

"I'll pass on that."

She grinned, finally leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to your lips. Feeling you return almost immediatley.

"Good, then it's settled."

[yazzwrites6962]

Falling For You ♡ Shigaraki Tomura ♡ Part One

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shigaraki Tomura x GN!Clumsy!Quirkless!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! I have not really been keeping up with MHA very closely, if I'm being honest. I was so obsessed with Shigaraki and Bakugo back in high school though. Sorry for late posts too! I have been drowning in finals. Italics are flashbacks. I don't own any characters/images.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: After an unfortunate run-in with the League of Villains, you find yourself trapped in a world you never belonged in. Clumsy, quirkless, and out of place, you're kept alive only by Shigaraki's inexplicable decision to spare you. Despite your constant mistakes and his harsh words, you slowly discover that the leader of the League may not be so heartless after all.

Word Count: 1706

Warnings: Threats/Mentions of violence, light emotional manipulation, power dynamics, swearing,

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You didn't belong in the League of Villains. At least, not really. In fact, you were more of an accidental recruit. It started out as a simple mistake. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, overhearing things you were not meant to hear. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when a rogue villain noticed you, your life took a turn.

You were lucky not to be killed that day. You thought you would be. Yet, it was quickly discovered that you were nothing more than a quirkless civilian with a stroke of bad luck. Still, you were a threat to their plans. You knew too much.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere. If it wasn't insisted by your doctor, you would've assumed bad luck was your quirk. You were clumsy, always seeming to do the wrong thing at the wrong time. It was a frustrating way to live.

"What kind of quirkless idiot gets themselves in a situation like this? Maybe you're more trouble than you're worth." Shigaraki was ultimately the one who made the final call. "Whatever. If you're determined not to die, we'll find a use for you." You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that you would not be killed. At least, not yet.

It felt almost comforting to be seen as possibly useful. All your life, tasks were delegated to you last. You were the "screw up", always left on the sidelines. However, that relief was short lived. Being useful to the League of Villains was no comforting notion. It was constant anxiety.

Many didn't view you as a person. Rather, you were a tool. Someone to keep around for menial tasks, which you often failed miserably. You were a klutz, in every sense. You were Murphey's Law personified. Several members of the League began realizing this and losing their patience. At least, what little patience they had.

"Stop getting in the way. I have no problems with killing you. If you're going to do tasks wrong, I'll just do them myself." Shigaraki would often warn you after every mistake. Despite his warnings, he never did kill you. Maybe you were more like a pitiful little pet to him than anything. You can still vividly recall Dabi's understandable hesitation when Shigaraki chose to keep you.

"Awe, I think they're so cute!" The blonde girl chirped, skipping towards your trembling frame. She crouched down to you, pressing a finger to your cheek. "Look how scared they are. How pathetic. Can we keep them? Please~?"

"Really? This one?" Said the burnt looking stranger leaned against the crumbling wall; arms crossed over his chest. "They can barely stay on their feet. What are we supposed to do with them? Trip them into the heroes and hope something works in our favor?"

You wanted to speak, defending yourself, but the words were caught in your throat. What could you say? They were right. You didn't belong there. You couldn't fight. You had no quirk. You could barely make your way across the room without bumping into anything. Yet, the mysterious man with light blue hair silenced them with the wave of his hand.

"Enough. They stay until I say otherwise.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The first few days in the League were the worst. It was a struggle adjusting to your new life. You wondered if anyone missed you, or even noticed you were gone. You were given small tasks: Clean Toga's messes, fetching things for Kurogiri, and organizing files you didn't really understand. Your clumsiness didn't help. You often tripped over wires, spilled drinks, and knocked over stacks of plans you had only just sorted.

"Are you trying to sabotage us, or are you genuinely this useless?" Shigaraki sneered. He had grown obviously irritated with your many errors. His tone was sharp, but his eyes betrayed him. There was a flicker of something else: Pity, or maybe curiosity?

"Ah- I'm s-sorry!" You apologize for what must've been the thousandth time that day. Your cheeks flushed with shame. "I- I don't mean to- I'm so sorry." You were terrified of the idea that at any moment, he would change his mind about you. Your life was on the line, after all.

"Stop apologizing. It's disgusting."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Over time, you noticed something strange about Shigaraki. Despite his sharp words and constant threats. he never actually followed through with them. Others in the League had taken bets on how long you would last. Yet, there you were; Still alive, stumbling through your "usefulness".

You began noticing the little things. You noticed how he would grumble under his breath whenever you nearly broke something, but he never raised his voice to you. You noticed how he would occasionally hover nearby, as if watching to see what you would trip over next. It was oddly endearing.

"I don't belong here." You grumbled under your breath one day after spilling an entire tray of drinks onto the floor. You crouch down to clean up the mess. You didn't think anyone heard you, but then Shigaraki spoke.

"You don't." His gruff voice startled you. You glance up quickly, meeting a pair of deep red eyes. "You're pathetic. Weak. Useless, really." He continued, an ever-present scowl on his face as he scratched at himself.

Ouch. As if you didn't already know this. You'd been down on yourself your entire life. It's not like you didn't try your hardest to do the best you could. Your best simply wasn't good enough. You held back tears as you continued to clean, silent from Shigaraki's words.

"Yet, you're still here." He said finally, after a long silence. He leaned down, crouching beside you. "You don't fight back. You don't try to be something you're not. You apologize too fucking much, but that can be overlooked. You are honest, in the worst ways. I... I don't hate that."

He almost sounded tender and comforting, as if he were recalling a fond memory. The tears met your eyes for a different reason now. You paused in your cleaning, taking a moment to truly admire the look he gave you. Behind the scowling, pitying expressing, there was a softness to him.

"You don't hate me?" You regretted the words the moment they left your mouth. Your voice sounded weaker than you wished. It sounded like you choked on the question before letting it out. Shigaraki let out a breath, something between a scoff and a chuckle.

"Don't let it get to your head." He stood, towing over you. "Just clean this up before I change my mind about keeping you alive today." Despite his harsh words, the air felt different. Lighter, somehow. He didn't hate you. That realization nestled into your chest like a warm ember.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Tomura's going soft on you~!" Toga whispered in your ear one evening, a sly grin on her face as she leaned against the table. Startled, you dropped a glass, which luckily didn't shatter. Dabi, who happened to be nearby, huffed.

"W-What?" Your cheeks heat up as you pick up the dropped cup, inspecting it for damage. You take a breath, trying not to stutter over your words. "Don't be silly. He is not."

"Yeah, he fucking is." Dabi rolled his eyes at your nervous behavior. "He didn't even yell at you earlier when you nearly wiped out over those cables."

"He likes you!" Toga squealed, bouncing excitedly. "That's so cute! He's falling for yoy, you little clumsy thing!" She leaned closer to you, puckering her lips and twirling a piece of her hair teasingly. You smile, taking away the dishes you hopefully wouldn't be breaking any time soon.

"He is not falling for me." You insisted, ignoring the way your heart skipped at the mere thought. "He probably just doesn't think I'm worth the effort." Even if he were falling for you, you couldn't possibly reciprocate those feelings... right?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The truth hit you on a stormy afternoon.

You had been tasked with sorting some more files when the sudden crack of thunder roared through the building. You jumped, sending a stack of papers flying in every direction.

"Seriously?" You groaned, kneeling to gather them. Your back ached. You must've bent down to pick various items up at least a hundred times that day. Exhaustion washed over you. It had been an especially taxing day.

"What happened this time?" Shigaraki's voice made you freeze mid-reach. You looked up to see him casually leaning against the doorway, scanning over your every move.

"I- Um- It was the thunder- I'm sorry-" You stammered, flinching as another rumble shook the building. He stared at you, expression unreadable. Was he judging? His silence was uncomfortable. Then, to your utter disbelief, he sighed and crouched down. He began carefully gathering the papers, being sure to pinch them using only his index and thumb. "You... You don't have to do that-"

"Shut up." He didn't look at you, but his tone lacked the usual harshness. The two of you picked up the papers in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "What are you still doing here?"

"What?" You questioned, looking between him and the papers. Was there another task you were meant to be completing? Did he want you to leave? You were about to question him further, but he began before you could.

"I've given you plenty of chances to leave. To run. To escape. I wouldn't have wasted my time going after you." Ouch. "So why are you still here?"

"Where else would I go?" You gulp, stacking the last of the papers. "I... I have nowhere else to go." You admit, standing as you both finish stacking the papers. He stared into your eyes, as if searching for your soul in them.

"Tch. You're an idiot." He muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He began to walk away. Before leaving the room entirely, he made sure to glance back at you one more time. "You belong here, more than you may think." Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe, here, you weren't so useless after all. Maybe you did belong with the League of Villains.

Maybe Shigaraki wasn't as heartless as he wanted everyone to believe.

[sewinrat]

If you were one of Luther's Cat:

Obviously you're not a normal cat. No gender mentioned dw;

While Nyon has those floppy cat ears and Nyen has like a cat hat, you have a beret with cat ears. Do with that information as you will, but either way no one knows if it can come off.

You eat poison once. It was an accident. Trouble likes to linger around you but they can get worse as years went by.

You were the middle cat. What I meant by that is, both in role and personality. You were not as mean as Nyen can be but you were also not as nice as Nyon is.(Unless of course you have a different opinion.) Remember the tier list they had in Vol 1. Lucid 5? Yea, you're placed either in Dime, Ace or something else like Hearts/Diamonds but never higher than that in tier 4. Close to Tier 3 actually but Nyen can be petty.

Danger Level: MODERATE

You are often found around the kitchen or the living room. Any other parts of the house you might be seen is because you have to go there under an order or for other reason. Once, Sebastian found you somewhere in a hallway sitting on the floor terrifyingly staring at the wall.

Unlike Nyen, when it comes to vacuums, you're one of those that chill on it. Just pop hide your limbs, be a bun and sit on top of it. If this ever happens, Nyen usually respects you more than he does when you're off it. It doesn't last long tho.

Of course since you're Luther's cat, you are loyal to him. It's inevitable especially in the ivory house. Luther's house. Maybe when you were a regular human, you would've accidentally met him in Michigan. You lost everything before so why must you worry about your human life when you can be a cat while gaining inhuman traits from Luther. Don't mind whatever happens within the house, you can do anything under his permission.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You;

Randal: "Yeahh I don't care much about them.. However they're my favourite out of big brother's cats! They're willing to play with me unlike the other two! It's fun since Sebastian don't play my games. I would call them my friend if it weren't for the fact that they're big brother's... And also the fact they can act like him." In short, he would see you as his friend but non friend.

Sebastian: "O-oh.. Who are you? Uh uhm.. okay? I guess they're fine. They're not as crazy as that other one.. but they still make me uncomfortable.. especially when they stare at the wall for no reason. I just hope they won't try to kill me.." He's afraid but he's fine. He can tolerate.

Nyen: "Oh them? I guess they're okay. They're boring to me but they are terrifying when they're on the damn vacuum. *shivers* eugh.. thinking about it makes me sick. Don't tell them that or else I would have to suffer their smug smile for a while." He doesn't care much. Don't try to snitch on him.

Nyon: "... They're okay." He's too quiet on the matter but don't worry, he likes you. You're not mean as Nyen. If anything, you also amuse him randomly. Especially when he saw you intimidating Nyen one time.

Luther: "Ah yes, one of my lovely cats. Out of the other two, as a kitten, they act so good. Better than the two. However, I love them all equally. As they grew older, it seems that trouble stirs around them more but it's fine. It's not as troublesome as some of the things Randal puts himself into. Now, while you are here, come have tea or please leave." His opinion has not changed. He loves you just as much as he loves his family.

Bonus! Ratman Robert: "How the hell did you get here? Whatever, you don't look like one of them. The middle cat? No comment. I don't know if I should be afraid that they seem to be plotting something or grateful they don't attack us when they see us. I would like it better if they don't stare at the wall. It's uncomfortable to feel their eyes on me." He's scared. But he would offer you food that he has as peace offering one day. Don't eat him.