#and i maybe already have some that i havent even worn yet

[frutigerfischl]

PICKIN' UP THINGS WE SHOULDN'T READ

⌗ SONG┆nine in the afternoon ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ TAGS┆gn reader, could be platonic or romantic, spending time at the cafe and writing, ddlc girls ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ NOTE┆wanted to write for ddlc because i havent written for the fandom in forever, song doesent have much to do w the fic i just like it and decided to title the fic after some lyrics ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⊹₊⟡⋆ YURI

The café was a quiet haven, a blend of warm amber lights and the faint hum of a latte machine. Outside, winter had brushed the streets with a thin layer of snow, leaving soft frost patterns on the windows. Yuri had chosen the corner booth, the one tucked just far enough away that it felt private but not secluded. She sat across from you, her delicate fingers curled around a porcelain mug of lavender tea.

"I—I think we should start with a theme," she said, her voice soft but rich, like the low notes of a cello. Her eyes, violet and glistening in the warm light, flickered between yours and the notebook lying open on the table. A fountain pen rested beside it, its silver tip catching the glow.

You nodded. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Yuri hesitated, her cheeks faintly dusted with pink. “Perhaps... something about nature? Or emotions. I find it fascinating how words can capture something as intangible as a feeling.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, even if she was visibly fighting against her nerves. You watched her reach into her bag and pull out a slim book—one of her favorites, judging by the worn spine. She opened it to a page with a gentle reverence, the movement itself almost poetic.

"This passage," she murmured, sliding the book closer to you. Her fingers brushed against yours briefly, and she pulled her hand back as though burned, her eyes darting downward. "It always inspires me. I thought it might help us."

You leaned in to read, the faint scent of her lavender tea mingling with her floral perfume. The passage was intricate, its prose winding and beautiful, yet dense. It was undeniably Yuri—layered, thoughtful, and filled with a yearning to articulate the unspoken.

“I like it,” you said, and she looked up at you, her expression blossoming with quiet delight. “How about we try to build something similar? Maybe... we could start with a single word and go from there?”

“A single word,” she echoed, her fingers twitching toward the notebook. “That’s a wonderful idea. Could you... write it? I’d like to see where your mind goes.”

The trust in her voice made your chest feel warm. You picked up the pen, the weight of her gaze heavy but not unpleasant, and wrote: solace.

For the next hour, the café became a bubble of focus. Yuri’s voice grew steadier as she shared her ideas, weaving vivid metaphors and elegant phrasing. Her shyness never entirely disappeared—it lingered in the way she avoided prolonged eye contact and how her fingers trembled when they skimmed yours to adjust the notebook. But you could see her passion for words overcoming her hesitation, and it was mesmerizing to witness her bloom in such a quiet, understated way.

⊹₊⟡⋆ NATSUKI

The café was busier than you’d expected, a steady stream of voices mixing with the clink of ceramic mugs. Natsuki had snagged a table near the window, her jacket draped over the back of her chair and a hot chocolate in front of her. She waved you over with a half-smirk, half-pout, tapping her pen against the edge of her notebook.

“You’re late,” she said, but there was no real bite in her tone. “I’ve already got some ideas down, but they’re probably better than whatever you’ll come up with.”

You rolled your eyes, slipping into the seat across from her. “Nice to see you too, Natsuki.”

Her grin was quick but genuine before she flipped the notebook toward you. The page was filled with her sharp, looping handwriting, little doodles in the margins. You scanned her lines—short, punchy, and brimming with emotion.

“Not bad,” you said, and her cheeks puffed out in mock indignation.

“Not bad? That’s all you’ve got to say? Come on, Y/N, you’re supposed to be helping me, not dragging me down.”

You laughed, grabbing the spare pen she’d brought. “Okay, fine. Let’s see if I can add something.”

The next hour became a tug-of-war of ideas. Natsuki was blunt, quick to shoot down anything that didn’t match her vision, but she wasn’t cruel about it. Her criticisms were laced with an almost playful edge, and every time you managed to surprise her with a clever line, she’d grin like you’d passed some secret test.

“You’re not totally useless at this,” she admitted, pretending to focus on her mug as she took a sip. Her ears, however, betrayed a faint pink hue.

“Wow, thanks,” you said, scribbling a new stanza. “High praise.”

“Don’t get cocky.” But her smirk told you she didn’t really mind.

As the poem came together, it became a patchwork of your voices—her vivid, emotionally charged imagery and your steady rhythm. By the end, she leaned back in her chair, studying the page with a critical eye.

“It’s... not terrible,” she said, which you knew was her version of this is actually pretty good. She glanced at you, her expression softening just slightly. “I guess it was kinda fun working on it together.”

The words were quiet, almost shy, but they lingered, warm and sincere.

⊹₊⟡⋆ MONIKA

The café was the perfect mix of cozy and chic—Monika’s choice, naturally. She’d picked a table near the bookshelf-lined wall, her laptop already open and her notebook laid out beside it. When you arrived, she greeted you with her usual confidence, her smile as warm as the caramel latte in front of her.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, gesturing to the seat across from her. “I hope you’re ready to get creative. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. You sat down, feeling like you were stepping into her world—a space where everything was thoughtful and purposeful. Monika always had a way of making you feel like the center of her attention, and today was no exception.

“So,” she began, twirling her pen between her fingers with effortless grace, “I thought we could work on something that plays with structure. Maybe alternating perspectives or a repeating refrain?”

You leaned forward. “That sounds ambitious.”

Her laugh was light, teasing. “Ambitious can be fun. And I know you’re up for the challenge.”

The two of you dove in, bouncing ideas back and forth with an ease that felt natural. Monika had a knack for guiding without overpowering, her suggestions sharp but never dismissive. Whenever you hesitated, unsure if your contribution was good enough, she’d tilt her head and say, “That’s interesting—let’s explore it more,” as though she saw potential in every word you wrote.

As the poem took shape, it became a dance of perspectives, each voice weaving into the next. Monika’s ability to elevate even the simplest idea amazed you, her edits precise yet subtle. At one point, she leaned over to adjust a line, her shoulder brushing against yours. The contact was brief, but it left your skin buzzing.

By the time you finished, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows. Monika closed the notebook, her smile soft but triumphant.

⊹₊⟡⋆ SAYORI

The café was as lively as Sayori herself, filled with laughter and the scent of baked goods. She had snagged a table near the counter, a half-eaten muffin on her plate and crumbs dotting the notebook she’d brought.

“Y/N!” she called, waving you over with the energy of someone who had already had too much sugar. “I was starting to think you got lost!”

You laughed, sliding into the chair across from her. “You’ve already started without me, haven’t you?”

“Only a little!” She giggled, flipping open the notebook to reveal a chaotic mix of doodles, half-finished lines, and random words. “I couldn’t help it. The ideas just kept popping into my head!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. Sayori had a way of making everything feel like an adventure, and today was no different. As you grabbed a pen, she leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands as she watched you.

“What should we write about?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Maybe... something about happiness?” you suggested. “Since that’s your specialty.”

She beamed. “Ooooh, yes! But we have to make it a little sad too, so it feels real, you know?”

The two of you spent the afternoon crafting a poem that was equal parts whimsical and heartfelt. Sayori’s ideas came in bursts, her thoughts tumbling out so quickly that you could barely keep up. She laughed at your jokes, cheered at your contributions, and doodled little hearts in the margins of the page.

At one point, she paused, her expression softening. “I’m really glad we’re doing this together, Y/N. It feels... nice.”

Her sincerity caught you off guard, but you smiled, the warmth of her presence filling the space between you. “Me too, Sayori.”

By the end, the poem was a patchwork of joy and melancholy, perfectly capturing Sayori’s essence.

[myillusions]

Noisy Sunday (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You've entered a mindset you're unsure how to come back from, your own emotions drowning you in a pool of despondency. Joel is there, trying to help you pull away from it.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: HEAVYYY angst, fluff, cursing, large descriptions of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts, comfort, undefined age gap (reader is of age), kind of dark themes its very somber

A/N: hi hi!! oh my, im so sorry i havent posted in so long. life has been so busy lately with exams and work, but here's this whilst i struggle with that and writers block! sorry (not rlly) that its so angsty, THANK YOU SO MUCH to anyone who reads, i hope u enjoy lovelies! also please please PLEASE i cannot stress this enough; if any of the warnings i've stated make you uncomfortable, please DO NOT read this!! and for anyone who may need to talk, my messages are always open <33

It’s peculiar, you think. How it eats away at you, gnawing down against supple flesh when you’ve already been forcefully spiralled onto the floor. Most say it’s like greeting an old friend; and you agree. It’s almost like reuniting with a family member whom you rarely see at a gathering. The one which then continue to pester you with inquiries you don’t have the vigour to answer. 

It comes in a moment. Sometimes for no reason at all. It reminds you of the subject which stops your musical theatre production mid-way, shining a glaring light towards you whilst you stare wide-eyed back; a deer caught in the headlights. Your character starts to break down around you whilst you’re stood onstage, its pieces cascading along your incapacitated physique like thrashing water which you’ve just dived into from a twenty-foot jump, limbs flailing by your head until the inevitable crash through the translucent liquid stings at your skin.

It attaches itself like a shadow to you, not always so visible yet constantly looming from around your shoulder. It never really made sense to you, how the more the light shines against this tenebrosity, the darker the shadow it casts. Shading you. Smothering you. A copiously adamant fire which refuses to be extinguished, its embers dancing up past the hillocks perched in the distance and threatening to singe anyone who comes near.

It made you yearn for a reposeful night, where the stars shimmered like pools of water in reflection to the sea rather than your own tears surging down your cheeks. Where a modest zephyr tapped gently at your swaying hair, twirling locks around its invisible finger gingerly. Where the whole world paused on its axis, bringing forth those few moments of pure solace. Nothing to bother you, and nothing for you to bother.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” A husky voice drawls out from beside you after the door to the front patio squeals open on its hinges, revealing Joel; adorned in his sleepwear of blue plaid print trousers and a black long-sleeved sweater. Considering his normal attire of worn-down jeans and a permanent scowl, he looked almost ridiculous, but in an admiring sort of way. His inquiry forcefully dragged you from the dazed state you had found yourself caught in, your eyes hauling themselves to face him laboriously slow, like it was strenuous to do so. You blinked a multitude of times to attempt to clear your head of its cloudiness.

You gave a harsh swallow before you even attempted to reply, “Not long. I just needed some water and air.” You lied right through your teeth, wincing towards the factor that a glass of water was sitting idly beside you on a tall and round wooden coffee table, still full to the brim with the reflecting liquid. Joel didn’t look convinced. To be honest, you had maybe caught a total of eight hours of sleep in the past three or four days, if lucky. Your body drums with craving for rest at the deprivation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax for long enough to lull into even a light rest, thoughts striking their way through forcefully in the canvas of your head, ripping downwards to leave their mark fiercely, consistently reminding you that pain is not an easy thing to ignore.

If you could say the apocalypse surfacing has brought you anything, it’s that it’s made you tired. So tired. But there are two types of tired, you suppose; one is a dire need of sleep, the other is a woeful need for peace.

Joel exhales past his nose harshly, his head dipping downwards for a moment, maybe in disappointment- you’re not sure. Either way, your stomach lurches with guilt, and you turn your head to face forward once again and pay rigorous attention to each detail lining the Jackson street in front of your given accommodation. The street was entirely empty, the only sound to be heard within earshot being the light whisk of the breeze against your supple skin, reddening the tip of your nose and turning your fingertips numb. You should’ve guessed Joel wouldn’t believe your white lie. Knowing him, he likely noticed you retracting the sheets from your legs and his arms strewn around your waist at just the start of the night, before tiptoeing down the stairs as quietly as possible to weave through the kitchen then to the front patio, where you have been set for a couple of hours now.

You’re both silent for multiple pregnant pauses, and you have to fight the urge to nibble nervously against your bottom lip, apprehension swirling within your chest.

“Do you want to come back to bed?” Joel tries cautiously, to which you visibly tense. You tilt your chin downwards dubiously, before giving an almost indistinguishable shake of your head from side-to-side.

Joel doesn’t give a response to your discreet answer, but instead pushes himself forwards from where he’s leaned against the doorframe to move past you and settle against the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite your own. The chair creaks as he perches himself there, the only intruding sound to the tranquillity before it swallows you both whole once again, thudding against the thin air which is gradually turning palpable. It’s suffocating.

“…Would you-“ He starts, his gaze turning upwards from the patios surface to face you, “Want to talk about it?”

Your heart throbs agonisingly at his offer, your fingertips tracing the wrecked linen material of your pants. You try a small, consoling smile, one that barely reaches your eyes; your head lifting to face him.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You murmur back, sombrely. You weren’t fibbing about this, though. There was no explanation as to why you were feeling this surge of perplexing emotions. It appeared as if it were just a protruding root sticking awkwardly out from the soiled terrain, its only task to trip and surprise anyone who were unfortunate to tread along. Even if you wanted to talk with Joel about it, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. It’s fine, until it’s not; a surprise.

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me.” Joel speaks, his voice softer than usual, as though he was afraid for what your reaction would be.

You bottom lip purses as you bite down against your tongue roughly, almost drawing blood to quarrel against the melancholy rising in your throat. You’re not sure how to reply- you don’t wish to reply. You would rather descend into the quietude than face this situation. It’s not that you liked the silence, no- you actually despised it. Silence gave any thoughts swirling around the midst of your head permission to inflate and rise to the surface, bobbing up and down there, whilst its limbs helplessly thrash around, wishing to get back to shore.

It's only after you notice that Joel is still peering over at you expectantly do you swallow gratingly, opening your mouth to answer.

“Well, I- It’s not anything, I’m fine-“

“Why can’t you just stop for once in your life?”

“What?” You ask, your voice cracking at its edges. Your brows shoot upwards at his words, taken aback.

“You lie to me, act like you’re okay- when you’re so clearly not and you won’t even let yourself realise that you need help.” He speaks sternly, eyes firmly trained on you- whilst you can’t even meet his gaze, eyesight shifting to anywhere but where he’s sat opposite you.

You weigh over your words, a trepidatious lump forming inside your throat. Your vision blurs at its corners, your brain fogging over with despondency.

“Please don’t make me say it.” You eventually speak again, your voice strained painfully, as your head drops down in a swaying motion, defeated.

Joel doesn’t reply, but instead reaches forward, gently placing his hand atop your own where its set against your thigh. He gives a gentle squeeze, urging you to blink back up towards him, where he’s peering at you with a softened gaze; and you can’t fight off the tears that instantaneously build up against your vision, attempting to rip past your shields and barriers which are gradually toppling down around you.

“I am barely holding on.” You admit, your shoulders slumping forward with the heaved effort of speaking without letting a cry rip through in interruption, causing a few teardrops to plunge down the canvas of your cheeks. A harrowing headache thrums against your forehead, your field of view only worsening, but not enough that you can’t see the way that Joel’s expression is overcome with visible empathy, which only results in making your stomach lurch more.

“And I-“ You exhale sharply, “And I can’t even tell you why. I just- there’s this thing, and it’s weighing over my shoulders. I can’t shake it.”

“You don’t have to find the perfect words. Just tell me what you’re feeling. I’m here.” He encourages softly.

“It’s like- like I’m here, but I’m not. I’m away from my body, watching over myself; whilst continuously being dragged backwards by this unknown force- pushing me somewhere I think I know. It’s like déjà vu, when you walk into a room, and you don’t where you know or remember it from, but you can feel that you recognise it. I-I’m angry, I’m sad and I’m confused. Maybe I just have a built-up resentment against the world.” You speak rather sullenly, but try to mask it with a small, tight-lipped smile towards Joel once your brief monologue comes to an end.

“I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling. But… I don’t want you to push me away. I want to try and help you, in any way that I can. But I can’t if you won’t allow me to. And… I don’t want it to seem like I’m tryin’ to coddle you, or anythin’. It’s because- y’know, I care about you.” Joel speaks steadily, his gaze shimmering with uncertainty.

Your heart lurches downwards in repentance with his words, as though you were liable for your own shifting thoughts and feelings. It bruises you; how much you’ve allowed your emotions to take hold, guiding the wheel in a swerve as rubber burns against asphalt distastefully. How far you’ve come, just to end up here. You know you need help. You’re just unsure how to accept any. But you know that you wish to breathe again. To hold out a hand to loved ones. To be afraid of death again. To have excitement at the idea of different winding roads. To feel free as a light breeze washes against your skin, clearing any distress from you in a wave. You wish to dream again. This longing is what powers your words onwards, as you peer over at Joel, vulnerable,

“I need help.”

Joel’s hand raises from the back of your palm, and instead encompasses your icy fingers with his warmer ones, intertwining them. He searches your eyes for a moment, and once he discovers a bold outline of authenticity, he promptly nods towards you.

“Together?”

“Together.” You reply.

It evokes a memory of a familiar oak tree. One you were very accustomed to when you were younger, before the outbreak. As a child, you used to wonder down the street to the park perched at the end after every school day. Outlining the grounds, just opposite a wooden bench, was an oak tree. Tall and mighty; confidence resonating from its stance, daring anyone to meddle with it. Thick arms branching from its moss-coated wood, whilst the lime-coloured leaves bundled against each other cascaded the surrounding distance in shade. You would lay beneath it, basking in the frigid yet reassuring atmosphere it created, hair messily sprawled out around your head. You would frequently come to the spot to just rest within the constant spiralling of the world, watching as the tree’s features changed with the reoccurring seasons; its leaves shifting from green to gold, from gold to ginger, then from ginger to cherry, and then falling, oscillating down to the soil with the wind, before repeating its cycle. It was almost soothing, watching its colours shift around with the change of the earth, whilst resolutely remaining staunch in its attitude, its branches a prime symbol of vigour. Changing, but still remaining what it is; strong. You deeply envied that, and hoped- wished, that someday you would build yourself up to resemble that oak tree.

"We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick." - Atticus

Noisy Sunday - Patrick Watson

Comments and feedback are appreciated!

[posebean]

fantasys your crazy:B‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ ‼️ 

fantasy AU stuff... alkaloid later...world building + details stuff under read more maybe dont look if u dont wanna be spoiled for the 2 fics that i already wrote for this au

in general magic is kind of weird there’s multiple methods to cast the same spell those being spell components, incantations, somatic (gestures). each has their merits and flaws/ u can choose to use only one/ any most people stick with 1-2

there’s all kinds of spells and people are either born with an innate specialty in it or grow up developing it; power is how strong their magic can be, control is how much of a grasp they have on their magic, the lower control is compared to power the more easy it is for someone’s magic to go out of control (aira in this AU but i’ll talk about that when i have the alkaloid one made). if someone has more control than power they’re able to do very precise things with their magic with no focus at all while others would need some focus; general populace has both equal, usually people that dont hone their skills (common villagers) stay at 1 star for both

niki’s outfit is very simple and inspired by his fs2, very versatile and such because he’s always out and about chasing after exotic creatures to add to his checklist cloak HGFSDH he learned to sew from Aira’s mom when he was little and made most of his clothes himself, his satchels, and even helps the others when they need his skills whenever hes in town. even though he clearly puts spices etc. on one side compared to his components on the other, he still mixes them up because he is silly Aka is very fluffy and has kind of wild hair like. someone we know. i wonder who bright blue eyes (also like someone we know. ) but foxes are funner to draw with just closed eyes

RInne just has his normal village clothes with like longer and some changes to make it more. fantastical???? idk im soooo bad at designing clothes lmfao but before the “fox” is out of the bag he doesn’t really shift back much except to stretch and mess around with meru so he doesnt really. get different clothes. def after the reveal he stays in that form more around niki and they do get him different clothes. idk what they would be maybe niki would make them because he gets sick of seeing both hiiro and rinne in his house wearing the same things all the time. oh yeah i havent gone over this yet but yeah hiiro does refuse to leave because rinne refuses to leave so he just. lives with them on niki’s couch LMAO. who knows. maybe he becomes a denizen of the beehive rinne also still shifts because he finds moving around as a little guy more convenient and also niki still finds that form cute and cant say no if he does the puppy eyes so it usually goes like niki: rinne-kun, no rinne: boo-hooo.. niki~kyun.... (swishes his finger and ina  poof hes aka again with round blue eyes) niki: niki: i know what you’re doing, its not going to work this time aka (rinne): whimpers niki: niki: (throws his hands in the air) oh my god fine rinne: (quickly changes back and grabs niki and cheers)

i havent gotten to kohaku’s fic yet but he’s good at stealth magic. like really good. he can make himself vanish and no one will be able to find him when he’s right next to them. think about that as you will. when aira brought him to the beehive he only had a yukata and worn down sandals and since he and aira had similar builds he just ended up getting clothes from aira for most of the time; he does have shirts that are specifically his because they all have little pockets sewn on (by niki!) for rabu-han junior but with coats pants and outerwear he and aira just share except kohaku stays away from some of aira’s more. fancy clothes ?? lmao not to his taste rabu-han junior is a little hamster familiar that he met one day and made a familiar pact agreement with. rabu-han junior usually sits in his pocket, but if need be rabu-han junior can grow MASSIVE from 3 inches to 6 feet. Big mode. in big mode he can easily carry. 4 people. lmfao. rabu-han junior also shares magic with kohaku and technically is as strong as him and from that logic. rabu-han junior is better at magic than poor rabu-han (original)

merumeru’s clothes are all from kaname except the coat the coat is tatsumi’s. no idea why himeru hasn’t thrown it away though. maybe somewhere deep in his heart he does care for tatsunn his main reason for leaving was he didnt want tatsumi to always be in pain from seeing him, the very spitting image of kaname

all of him is just like kaname except: slightly older, longer hair, hair dark grayish at the ends and its not visible much and he does do illusion magic to change it but he has cat eyes pupils kittymeru is mainly dark gray (the same color as his human hair ends) with kaname-blue highlights and the long strand, the proof that kaname was the one that conjured him and essentially put part of himself in meru

[b0rtney]

ALL im saying is if u gave me fuck u money i'd write a fanfic where, for some reason i will come up w later, katniss doesn't/can't volunteer for prim during the reaping.

so we get prim and peeta in the hunger games, hamish and effie coaching them as best they can. and prim is, ofc tiny and scared and like. 11 or whatever (i forgor ages), and peeta is like ":) ok new plan: make sure katniss gets her little sister back!" meanwhile hamish is like "do i even know a kind of self defense that works for someone the size of perhaps a small potato or large hamster????" and effie is like "oh dear lord. oh jesus. she's just solidly gonna die huh??? oh god i need a career change???" and prim, after the shock has worn off, is like "oh shit i have a sister (and mom ig) to get back to. i gotta live thru this."

so prim is like solidly understanding she's not winning against careers in combat. she focuses on any other skill she can get-- medicine to patch herself up, camouflage from peeta, shmoozing for sympathy points (with incredible success, bc she knows who she is and what she looks like), and once she meets the other tributes she manages to worm some useful info on a few things out of a few other tributes who r like "oh poor thing won't survive the cornucopia" and, most notably, she becomes besties w rue.

and so peeta plays his angle of "i just wanna get back to the girl i love uwu," but doesn't bring prim into it as katniss's sister v much bc he knows that would put a target on her back, he instead paints himself as this big ol' sap that'll be easy pickings (if you can find him) so it looks like district 12 just spat out some softies this year (everyone back home is preemptively mourning). maybe he drops one line abt "i will do anything to get prim home safe" w kinda a looking-directly-into-the-camera-kubrick-stare moment.

meanwhile prim is like "rue. bestie. it might be great for us to play our friendship to the camera a bunch? for ratings?? ppl send us things for free??" and rue is like "aight sure yea lets do it" so they do it-- and if my lesbian ass has her way maybe they have little tiny baby crushes and like. hold hands or somn. idk ceasar would play it up and soon we've got the whole capitol like 'THE BABIES OH GAWD NO' and so the star-crossed lovers thing still happens, but with prim and rue. the capitol loses it's shit, bc they're on the way younger side, with baby faces, who have been playing up how tiny and defenseless they are to anyone who will listen for clout and donations.

with a push from peeta/haymitch/effie, ceasar's little-babies-who-will-never-even-get-to-be-fully-in-love-bc-there's-no-way-they're-surviving-the-next-24-hours shtick for prim/rue gets spun wildly out of control before the games even start and suddenly the capitol is demanding the games be called off since "so many of them are so young!" at most extreme, or wondering if the minimum age for the hunger games isn't too young at most moderate.

district 13 was not ready for such a prime revolution moment to happen so quick, but they make the best of it in a somewhat disorganized way. They sway public opinion into spinning this story up, up, and away from capitol control, which eventually (through difficult to succinctly summarize PR bullshit) has everyone calling for snow to step down, and he can't very well use the cattleprods on the supposed upper crust, can he? not when every other district is already twitching for an excuse to revolt and has been for a while. so he 'gracefully' steps down (repercussions to be written in fic). district 13 is like damn they r fr handing us this one wtf.

coin(? i forgor names lol) is just barely too slow to neatly slot herself into power, bc now the capitol+districts is like "WE should get a say *insert democracy/anarcho-communism/republicanism/alt-govt.png*" idk maybe panem fractures into smaller govts that stop being affiliated w one country idk. i havent written the fic yet bc i dont have fuck u money.

what i DO know is katniss is honestly too involved in watching the games and subsequent bullshit to notice gale breathing, and peeta comes home w prim who is like 'can we go visit rue in the spring?' and katniss is like '....... u just restructured the govt...... sure yea wtvr' and peeta goes back to pining bc i just dont think he knows how to make a move when not on a death-related timeclock. maybe prim throws him a bone and wingmans him in there.

[medouse]

because i never stop thinking about clothing here's the layer list so far, more or less in the order you would put them on in:

underwear: likely modified combinations, just to protect the other layers from oils, the skin from being pinched by the corset, while keeping a modest and fanciful flair to the overall aesthetic. these probably have little ribbon accents and definitely have unnecessary lace detailing because we stay on theme here. theres a lot of edwardian going on here and i know combinations are really more of an earlier thing but i think theyre cute and i can do whatever i want forever

corset: initially a steel boned underbust. i am now considering something more built for tightlacing, which under any other circumstance i can't stand, but in this one singular instance has some narrative fun to it. i am currently waffling between an edwardian s shaped corset or something that leans more modern hourglass. going to keep playing with this

???: MAYBE some structural help here. very hard maybe. the petticoats might be enough tbh but maybe padding or something...?

petticoats: nice and long, probably not floor length, because why would you want to dirty MORE layers if you dont have to but at least ankle length for sure. about 4 layers for sufficient poof

corset cover: cute and ruffled but not overly so, just enough to hide the lines of the corset while adding a little bit of fluff to the bust. just a teenie bit.

blouse: its a shirt! aex's blouse has big fucking angel sleeves because i will never know peace (change the sleeves?) never. anyway this too is lacey and frilly and honestly in terms of vibes very reminiscent of edwardian lingerie blouses

underskirt: the blouse gets tucked into this one. i want this to vaguely resemble a 10 gore empire corsage skirt but since this is already being worn with a corset, aex doesnt need the additional boning. nice and floor length though, no sneak peaks for free.

overskirt: nothing as elaborate as the late victorian overskirts could get but something adjacent might be nice. i havent entirely worked out the shape for this yet but this is maybe the last thing on my list of tweaks as i could probably remove it and still be content

so if you had normal legs you would put socks and shoes before corset but this is not a concern aex has. i cant even make a horseshoes joke because shes got cloven hooves.

additional things aex is wearing that are not strictly clothes but are noteworthy:

crespinette: okay so if you dont know what these are (fair) yknow that medieval hairstyle with the buns on the side of the head held in place with net (sometimes decorated) and a circlet type thing? that! sometimes this has a veil of some sort attached. jeanne from bayonetta has something akin to it in one of her hairstyles, and ive taken inspiration from hers specifically by adding the lil dangly bits shes got goin on for some reason.

veil: this is seperate from the crespinette solely because its a different type of veil situation than would normally be used here. what we have here is a floor length lace veil, akin to like wedding mantilla style. this is held in place with the crespinette and little combs probably but im not overly concerned by it

little tear shaped jewels: this might be makeup later but im leaning towards jewels. three little tear drops under the eyes for theming reasons.

collar: this is a theming thing. it also doesnt come off. yeah yeah unicorn in captivity we've all seen it moving on.

sleeve garters: this is wholly functional because good god her sleeves are ridiculous (change them?) never. these are just before the elbow to keep a good range of motion without significantly damaging the Drama

gloves: WHOOPS almost forgot these. nice wedding white leather gloves.

honest to god i need to stop making complicated oc design. won't because the creative flex at this point is too fun. but i need to. i was going to make my life easy this time! but no i had to add actual corsetry. and then i get to waffle on whether its an outer garment or an undergarment. and then i wonder if the inital corset shape is too modern and still fits with the themes and then-

i did this with the hair too for the record im just like this.

[svgarpills]

If you're still doing writing prompts, how about some fluff of Peony from Sword and Shield carrying another character across the Crown Tundra in his giant backpack? If you're familiar with the Crown Tundra DLC, that is.

THATS SUCH A CUTE IDEA, i took the chance for father-daughter bonding i hope u dont mind. I never thought of the backpack carry but anon...so big brain.

--

Ship: N/A

Characters: Peony, Peonia

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Peonia is determined to make her way through the Tundra by herself, despite her exhaustion. Too bad her dad is stubborn as hell.

*Havent played SWSH in a while but I rlly love the characters ngl

--

"I don't need your help, so you can go find something else to do." Peonia trudges through the snow with a small huff. Her trip to the Max Lair had taken much longer than she originally planned, by the time she got out it was already late evening. Unfortunately, her father had been wandering around the area, shouting something about legends. When their eyes had locked, her fate had been sealed.

"Nonsense! I'm plenty capable of carrying you! It's only going to get colder when the sun finishes setting." Peonia rolls her eyes. Her father has always been stubborn, but she kind of wishes he would take the hint. She isn't even that cold yet, and the trip can't take that long, can it? It sure felt short when she ventured into the lairs earlier.

Turns out, it's farther than she originally thought. And battling all those Pokemon must've worn her out, because her father's offer is becoming more and more appealing with every heavy step she takes. Trying to play it cool, she turns to the former Gym leader and points at him. "Besides, how would you carry me with that ridiculous backpack on anyways?" She thinks she's made a point until he opens it and gestures excitedly.

"...Absolutely not." She turns her head again and continues to walk, chin pointed up. She won't be seen in something like that. If her fingers fall off, she can find a different way to hold her Pokeballs. Really, she should've just stayed in the Lair for another hour and waited it out. Maybe she would've been offered a nice, quite place to sleep. But no, of course not. "I know you're pouting."

Suddenly, she's been lifted off the ground. "What kind of father would I be if I let you suffer through this cold, 'Nia? Now, I can either carry you in my arms, or in the bag." Peonia's face burns and turns a deep scarlet as she tries to figure out which is less humiliating. Her father will probably talk to her the whole time, and the bag...well, it's probably the tiniest bit better than that.

"Daaad," she groans. "Ugh, just put me in your backpack before I change my mind." He beams before placing her down and slipping the bag off. She considers making a desperate run for it, but she knows better than that. Her father is still in impressive shape, there's no way she'll be faster than him. She slips into the bag without a word and crosses her arms. Peony pays it no mind, simply putting it back on and continuing to walk.

The position isn't the best, her knees and head poking out awkwardly, but it is...warmer. The interior of the bag is soft. Not quite fuzzy, more smooth and nice to the touch. And the way its surrounding most of her body makes her just a little more tired. A small nap won't hurt, right? She can just hop out before they reach town, and spare herself any embarrassment. With that thought in mind, she lets her eyes slip closed. It's only a moment of rest, after all.

'A moment of rest' turns into waking up at home, bleary and tired, but also warm and comfortable. "Did I seriously let myself get carried all the way here in that dumb backpack?" Whatever, maybe nobody saw. She sits up and notices the way the blankets have been carefully tucked around her, everything arranged just the way she likes. It stirs a strange feeling in her stomach.

Her dad might be stubborn and loud, but he cares a whole lot. Maybe, if he can carry her home, then she can spend a day or two with him on one of his oddly named tours. It's only fair, after all. The only hard part is going to be making it seem casual. She fixes her appearance up a bit before exiting her room. Her father is at the table, looking over old, worn looking papers. An excited expression is plastered on his face, even this early in the morning.

"So, you carried me back here?" She asks, trying to break the ice. He looks up and grins at her before quickly nodding. "And I assume you're going to do the same tour stuff you usually do?" Another nod. "...You know, those Max Lairs get so...stuffy, after a bit, and there's probably gonna be a bunch'a repeats today..." she shuffles her feet. "Any chance I can tag along?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Peony is suddenly dragging her towards the table, setting her in a chair next to his. He excitedly rambles on and on about legends, and she tries her best to pay attention. She glances at her father, bright-eyed and even more cheerful than usual, and smiles softly.

Maybe she should spend time with him more often.

[sillyguyhotline]

17. “How is any of this ok?” with Joe and Sara maybe?

dude im gonna be completely honest i havent written anything in like a month so i think the quality isnt gonna be great but here goes nothing

God, Sara missed the feeling of home.

Every semblance of familiarity and comfort she’d once found in the town she’d grown up in, the house she’d spent her childhood running through, now felt chillingly foreign.

Perhaps it was the heavy burden of knowledge weighing fresh upon her shoulders: ASUNARO’s corruption seemed now to peer slyly around every corner, no matter where she went. She still didn’t know how much of the town had rotted away under its grasp, how much of the town its poison had pervaded… but she was probably better off not knowing.

Whatever was left of Midori, that miserable mix of pulsing blood and electronic emotion, had been ground to bits inside that coffin… but Sara couldn’t ignore the creeping fear that his burning, ever-present gaze would appear out of nowhere and terrorize her again.

But he wouldn’t. The death game was over, and they’d promised they would never hurt her or any of her loved ones again.

Most of the loved ones she still encountered day-to-day, gruesomely blood splattered and sitting like corpses propped up hastily in a corner, would be safe no matter if ASUNARO was fresh on her tail or a thousand miles away. What a cruel price to pay for safety, to never be hurt again.

They still lived on if Sara closed her eyes tight enough, if she listened to the twisting words of the hallucinations and let them convince her she was monstrous. But the second she dared to open her eyes, she knew they’d be dead again. Life worked in terrible ways, and that was all there was to it.

Joe’s house had always been a second home to her, ever since the two of them became friends. Joe was the farthest cry from Sara in terms of social interactions- it had taken at least 3 months for Sara to trust Joe enough to invite him over, but Joe had insisted she hang out at his house the very same day they became friendly enough to exchange more than a sentence with each other.

There was a certain sort of comfort to the warmth of his house, the constant scent of cooking food pervading the air and the little trinkets scattered in every corner. No surface of his house went without decoration, in its silly little way. It was full of pictures, too, some carefully framed and some dangling from the wall by pushpins, but Sara got the sense that none of the photos went unloved. Most of them were occupied by an orange-haired man, often carrying a younger Joe (back when he was still sporting that atrocious crew cut). Sara always assumed it was his dad, but thought it would be impolite to ask… particularly when the weeks stretched on and Sara had yet to meet that mysterious orange-haired man.

Eventually, pictures of Sara began to join the collage on the wall- pictures taken as she butchered yet another pop song during karaoke, or when they went out to get food, or when she mistakenly sat down on a traffic cone during gym (after many protests from Sara, he took that one down). As silly as the pictures were, and as obvious as it was that Joe had waited for the most embarrassing moments to take them, it was sort of sweet in a way.

Joe’s mother was always kind to her, though there was a constant weariness in her eyes that Sara always felt a bit uneasy about questioning. Sometimes she’d let the two of them cook things in the kitchen, but more often than not they’d go up to Joe’s room and screw around in there, with video games or music or the 50 times Joe tried to persuade Sara to climb out the window and sit on the roof with him before she finally agreed.

As rare as it was for Sara to agree to sit on the roof, it was even rarer for Joe to agree to study with her, much to Sara’s chagrin. Joe had always walked a fine line between passing and failing, but Sara had to admit he walked it well. When she did manage to convince him to study, though (usually the day before final exams), they’d sit on the cushy couch in his living room and somehow manage to bother each other as much as possible while feigning concentration.

The couch hadn’t changed after several years- Sara could tell that much the minute she sat down on it and avoided the urge to break eye contact with Joe’s mother. It was still well-worn, a couch that likely should have been replaced at least a decade ago but had never really been disposed of. Loose threads were protruding from the cover, drawn out from years of visitors fidgeting with them.

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the slight motion making her sink deeper into the couch’s soft cushioning. She’d only spent one minute in the house and was already sweating, whether from the heat of the home or the thousand-yard stare of the woman sitting across from her.

Ryoko was there, too, sitting to Sara’s left and gazing listlessly at the well-trodden carpet beneath her feet. …Ryoko.

Sara cast a hesitant glance around the room, duly noting the photos covering the walls. Not a single one of hers had been taken down, but several more photos had appeared with Joe’s beaming face featuring prominently in them. Joe’s presence was always enough to fill a room even when he wasn’t speaking; it took a lot to fill in the gaps left by his absence.

God, she missed him.

The wind whistled against the window-screen; Sara had memorized the familiar creak of the wooden window frame being lifted up to welcome in the mild autumn air. Sara had always thought of autumn as a beginning- she loved summer as much as any other kid, but as the haze of the weather began to wind down she was quick to grow impatient and look forward to the school year, to being productive again. Joe had always disagreed with her.

“Fall is the literal death of fun,” he’d complained once, walking home with Sara after finishing the first week of school. “Couldn’t they have pushed back the first day of school by, like, another week? You think if we got enough people to sign a petition, they’d give us an extra week of summer?”

“Oh, come on, we both know even if you had an extra week of summer you’d just be complaining a week later,” Sara had teased back.

The death of fun. It certainly felt like that, Sara decided. She’d never feared the looming darkness of fall and winter quite so much before. But now, she supposed, there was no sunshine who’d weather it with her.

“Well… Sara?” Joe’s mother spoke up, voice hoarse with the sound of repressed tears in her throat. Sara recognized the sound all too well.

There was no resentment in the woman’s eyes when Sara made eye contact with her. No anger, no frustration, nor had there been any in her measured motions when she welcomed Sara into the home. It didn’t take any words for Sara to tell that there was no blame to be foisted upon her.

She was still Joe’s best friend.

“I’m sorry to have dragged you out here on such short notice.” The woman’s voice was weak. “I don’t know all the details of what happened, of course. Haven’t heard anything, aside from the little tidbits the police told me when I dropped by the station.”

Sara’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the police, at the idea of them pleasantly answering her questions as though they weren’t just as complicit in that tragedy as ASUNARO had been.

“And…” the woman glanced down at her hands, toughened from a lifetime of working. “I know something terrible happened to you. The circles under your eyes are darker than midnight, I know it’s so selfish of me to be dragging you out here, but… I haven’t slept a wink for weeks. Been so worried about Joe, and about you too.”

She nodded in the direction of the black-haired girl who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time. “Ryoko’s been worried about the both of you, too. Your parents weren’t answering the door, so she went to me. I hope you’ll forgive the two of us for disturbing you, Sara, but… you have the answers the police won’t give us, don’t you?”

God, her gaze was piercing.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

It was taking everything in Sara’s power not to look at the vacant seat to her right. If Joe was there, he would have been laughing and lightening the mood, completing the circle that had been left so jarringly empty.

But they wouldn’t have been having this conversation if Joe was there.

Ms. Tazuna nodded slowly. “This means the world to me, Sara. Don’t forget that.”

Sara did her best to muster a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The woman gave another nod, eyes defocusing as though even now, she wasn’t quite sure why she was there. “Alright. Alright. Well, then…” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Guess I should get right to the point, yeah? Is he… is… how is he…?”

So she still hadn’t quite let go of that little thread of hope, even after seeing Sara return home safe and alive with no best friend in tow. Who was Sara to judge? When hope was the only thing to cling to, it only made sense to cling to it like a lifeline.

Sara twisted her hands, the same old nervous habit she’d had for years, and wondered briefly if she’d picked it up from Ms. Tazuna. How terrible it was, to carry the news that nobody, much less any mother, ever wanted to hear.

“I… I’m sorry, Ms. Tazuna. He didn’t make it out alive.”

Sara hadn’t expected the hush that immediately fell over the room. She’d expected immediate tears, the grieving cry of a mother in pain. Instead, the room became muffled, still as a painting captured in time.

Slowly, Ryoko looked up from her bitten-down fingers, eyes rimmed red already. Ryoko had always been an emotional person, the only person Sara knew who could fluctuate from full-on sobs to cheerful giggles in less than a minute. Sara was so unused to the look that was now filling her eyes- cold, solid misery. As though there were no tears in her eyes left to cry, no more tragedies to bemoan. Just a deep and horrified comprehension of just how many things in her life had gone wrong.

And, slowly, Ms. Tazuna began to cry.

Tears had become so uncomfortable for Sara to bear witness to. Was it selfish of her to look away? It couldn’t be, not when every raw sob reminded her of the art student seeing her first (and certainly not last) death, of the broken sibling openly weeping over apologies gone unspoken, of the unknowing siblings screaming their throats out with pleas for death so the other could survive.

Especially not now. Not when every tear rang in her mind as a reminder of cold tubes piercing her best friend’s chest, of his corpse slumping and falling in a pool of blood, because oh god he wasn’t supposed to have lost so much blood, how was he supposed to live without it, of the clickclickclickclickclicking rising in volume while her attempts to save him grew feebler and feebler.

Her hands were bloodstained, no matter how many times she tried to scrub them clean. Those dreadful hands of hers had failed her, failed Joe, failed the women sobbing openly in front of her.

She swallowed back the apologies that always rose in her throat as Ms. Tazuna rushed to sniffle back her tears.

“I… god, I… he’s really gone?”

Sara couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please… please tell me it was a peaceful death. He didn’t… suffer too much, did he?”

The resounding wave of clicks flooded her mind. “It was as peaceful as I could make it. I… he smiled at me, right before he died. I’d… very much like to think that means he was happy when he died.”

“What happened?” Ryoko’s voice came out rough, the first of it Sara had heard in weeks. “Joe told me, after our date, that he was going to walk you home, and then neither of you showed up at school the next day. And now… it’s been three weeks? And Joe… Joe’s dead? What the hell happened, Sara?”

“God,” Sara mumbled, mesmerizing herself with the twisting motions of her own hands. “I’m not sure if you’d even believe me if I told you. I don’t even know if I believe what happened myself.”

“I’d believe anything.” The sentence was firm. “I just want to know what happened.”

Sara nodded wearily. The familiar weight of her bright orange ponytail was notably missing- the day after she’d escaped, she’d demanded the hairdresser cut her hair short and crisp. She shuddered every time she thought about the ponytail brushing against her neck as she spent each argument screaming and protesting for her life. Even worse was the memory of how carefully Joe had styled her hair, forsaking his usual clumsiness to braid every strand with a remarkable tenderness. She didn’t want to remember any of it- even though, as the locks went cascading to the floor, she was reminded starkly of Keiji’s bleach-stained trauma response.

“For some reason, something to do with the mafia, we were kidnapped. And pulled into a death game. There were twenty of us, including me and Joe. I- I’m not going to get into all the specifics. It’s going to make me sick to my stomach if I do. But… they made us play this sadistic fucking game to narrow down the competition. Based on cards. Joe drew a bad card, and… they executed him.” Something in Sara’s throat tightened as she finished speaking, and she fell silent.

“Just like that?” His mother’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “How… how’d they kill him?”

“I’d rather not say.” There came the gushing sound of blood pulsing through the tubes. “He didn’t suffer too long” - she hoped - “but it was a gruesome way to die. I don’t want to think about it, please understand.”

It took a moment for his mother to register the words and nod, face still painted with horror.

“Why… how did the two of you even end up there in the first place?” Ryoko spoke up again. “You said something about the mafia? How the hell are you two connected with the mafia?”

“I don’t know how I am,” Sara responded immediately. “It must be something with my family. I couldn’t control any of this, I swear, but… Joe wasn’t meant to end up there at all.”

Ryoko paused. “He… he wasn’t meant to end up there?”

Sara swallowed back the lump in her throat. “The game… it was something that was being prepared for ages. There weren’t just a few ragtag kidnappers behind it, there was an entire organization. Even the police were involved. They ran AI tests, hundreds if not thousands of them, trying to calculate who’d be the most likely to win. And… when all the numbers came back, the person most likely to win… was me.”

She spread her arms wide, baring her sins and her cruelties to the world, and in that moment felt distinctly like the angel of death Keiji had branded her to be.

“They needed something to drag me down, I guess. Make the odds more balanced. So they dragged Joe into this fucking mess. I guess they thought that him being there would keep me steady enough to make everything fair.” A cold hand, dripping with tendrils of phantom blood, caressed her chin with a lethal grip. “...They were right.”

Ryoko’s gaze had gone cold again. “So Joe died just because you cared about him? What the fuck kind of death sentence is that?”

Sara shook her head numbly.

“Why did it have to be him?” The heartbreak in Ryoko’s voice was clearer than day. “So many people love you, Sara, why did it have to be him? Hell, I’m your best friend too, aren’t I? Why couldn’t it have been me? I’m a much worse person than Joe ever was, I deserved to be in his place way more. Couldn’t they have killed me instead?”

Sara winced at the growing desperation in her best friend’s voice, the raw crack she knew all too well. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me. Sara could have almost fooled herself into seeing a crisp aquamarine when Ryoko’s hair flashed into the light.

“Ryoko… it could have been.”

The girl fell silent.

“They had files on you too. They knew how close we were, they knew how much you meant to me… but Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they fucking killed him for it.”

Oh, how she wished she could go back to that balmy early-autumn night, see the smile on Joe’s face and listen to his lighthearted laughter again. The desire to keep one’s friend safe had become a crime deserving of a death sentence.

Ryoko’s eyes remained locked to Sara’s, devoid of any dullness. In the look they exchanged was a deep, sinking understanding, one that had nauseated Sara to the core the first time the realization struck her.

It was by no crafty strategy that Joe had died instead of Ryoko, no favoritism biased against the kindest person either of them would ever know. It was a simple, terrible twist of fate. Ryoko could have taken his place had she done something as inconsequential as offering to walk Sara home instead.

But she hadn’t.

It took everything in Sara’s power to avoid wondering what would’ve changed if she had.

“How is any of this okay?” Ryoko broke the silence weakly. “They killed him- they could have killed me, too. He was seventeen. Seventeen. How did anybody let this happen? How did this happen, Sara?”

“I- I don’t know.” Ryoko’s wrath was simmering; even though Sara knew truly that she wasn’t the subject of the anger, she still felt scalded. “I miss him so much, Ryoko. I watched him die, and nothing in my power let me save him. I miss him, Ryoko, I miss him every waking minute of every day. We were supposed to escape together and get out safe and pretend this never happened, but…” the tears were beginning to well up again. She couldn’t bear the thought of breaking down in front of anyone, especially not over him.

“I’m going to go make some coffee,” his mother interrupted suddenly. She’d been noticeably quiet, but the still-fresh streaks of tears painted down her cheeks told the story she didn’t need to vocalize. “Some coffee, and some snacks. And we’ll keep talking from there, alright? Do you guys have your phones?”

The two girls nodded uneasily.

“Please… find any pictures you have of him. I want to make this wall as bright as possible.”

Without any other words, she hurried out of the room, and it fell to silence once more. Outside the window, the cool autumn breeze began to stir the leaves in the air, gusting forward to brush against Sara’s cheek just as the hallucination had done mere minutes ago.

And the Tazuna household began to feel more like home again.

[enbyandevil]

some thoughts tm after todays leaks, they are mostly just disjointed ramblings

1. the scene with toshinori and izuku is really heart breaking when you consider that AM already knew izuku wasnt really looking up to him as a mentor but now he even refuses his help all together. it especially hurts when you remember that in chapter 253 toshinori specifically confides in aizawa that he feels useless and only chose to go on with his life for the sake of the kids (mostly izuku). and in the same chapter aizawa tells him that all he can do is provide support for them..... which izuku is going to reject in 317. oof

2. speaking of izuku, i saw that some ppl already also noted that the image of an always smiling hero that izuku had for himself as an ideal to strive for seems to have finally collapsed. that boy is tired, bloodied and keeps pushing others away. its pretty clear that hes doing it so others dont get hurt by proximity, just like how he left class 1-A, but i don't think he had ever thought that it might result in hurting them. we havent really seen chapter 317 just yet but even then, it seems like izuku keeps thinking that pushing people away is the best option to keep them safe and that he is right in doing so. i wonder if that lone hero attitude is something he unconciously adapted from all might. it would be pretty ironic bc ultimately its the fact that toshinori made himself out to be The sole symbol of peace that lead to the hero society tumbling down into lowkey chaos, not to mention the fact that he ended up pushing nighteye away (even tho nighteyes only concern was AMs well-being)

3. that being said, having read the leaks of what happens in this chapter... i do wonder what izuku meant when he said that this is the story of how he became "the greatest hero" in the beginning of the story. so far he seems really far from the idea he was striving for, not to mention that i wouldnt be surprised if he became more disillusioned with the role of a hero after all that has happened so far. its interesting to see his driving force go from "i wanna become a hero to save people" to "i need to become a stronger hero so i can defeat afo because im the only one who can do it". its sad how much he has grown to depend on OFA and how he seems to only depend on his new quirks when at the start of the story his battles were mostly abt wit and strategy. of course, its a result of him getting a grasp on his powers, but ig i miss the times when izuku was actually the underdog of the story. my tangent aside, with how its going so far... i would love the idea of izuku ending up opposed to the system upholding the hero society or maybe even losing his quirk at the end. all we know is that he Will become the greatest hero, but in what sense? and what do you mean by hero? the status? the job? id like to think horikoshi can still surprise us regarding that matter

4. this chapter also makes me wonder about whether izuku is going to end up having to be rescued/helped forcefully by his friends from 1-A. you cant tell me that those kids are gonna stay insignificant till the end of the story, esp ochako, who has strong narrative ties to toga. izuku is obviously being worn down and i wonder how its gonna get resolved

[iscribble]

pairing | youtuber!renjun x student!reader genre(s) | fluff, slice of life, strangers to potential lovers, college au word count | 1.8k summary | you’re always the type to be punctual, so it takes you by surprise that you’re willing to give up your time for something else - someone else, rather; a stranger.  author’s note | havent written in so long that i just had to put something out there. im really sorry for being so inactive! :( 

An extended but lonely crack slithers down the bathroom mirror, grazing your reflection on the glass that is opaque with moisture. Through the corner of your eye you perceive one-fourth of the aged, spreading tree outside your apartment whenever the old creaking door swings open with the wind. The quiet—but prominent—plop of the water that leaks through the apertures on the pipe hits your ears, and it is only after a while that you find it fills the little space between your toe and the tip of your shoe. The leak doesn’t bother you though. Neither does the crack, nor the random wind gusts. A yellow lip balm bounces in your palm, cap greasy from applying too much on your finger. You would exchange a mere lip balm for a heat pack, but you put it on anyway. The harsh cracks on your lips are now tucked away underneath a tacky layer of cream, and you find it amusing how easily it wears away. 

You are late, for the first time in months. Nothing really bothers you as much as glancing at the clock and seeing its hands where you least expect them to be.

In your defense, it was an afternoon class. You don’t usually have afternoon classes unless your professor needs to reschedule, which, inevitably, resets your agenda for the rest of the day. You, on the other hand, are not used to rescheduling. So when you can’t feel the warm shaft of sunlight skim across your eyelids, instead, only the feeling of cold air brushing past your skin and the faint sound of your alarm, you jolt awake, guilty of sleeping in. You try not blame yourself though—this doesn’t happen everyday and you are still not used to it. 

The station is disposed with a boring facade and a duller interior. The giant vintage clock shows 15:18. The three seater bench still holds too many people.  There is that man with the navy-coloured down jacket behind the counter, uninterested in the regulars who flock to their respective platforms. These are the same sequences, the same faces, like people are helpless boats going with the current. You scrunch up your nose, admitting you are one of them too. 

You make your way inside the train, opting to sit near no one else. It takes a while for you to settle down, but when you do, you catch someone looking at you. Harbor gray coat, brown hair, black mask. You don’t recognise him anywhere on campus. You think maybe he attends one of the afternoon classes, but you don’t assume further. 

15:29.

You leave the train with a spring in your step, but not out of enthusiasm. The familiar crisp white frontage of the building comes into view, your heart skipping a beat as you think of the worst that could happen upon stepping inside the lecture hall. One strap of your tote slides down your shoulder, and just as you are about to pick it up, the other strap goes loose and drags your bag down with it. A couple of coloured pens roll out, you grumble to yourself and crouch down to stop them from rolling any farther. You fail at this, when you turn around to pick up a blue pen and realise that someone else beat you to it. The stranger from the train. 

“Got it,” he chuckles, and you feel embarrassed. He returns your pen, but his eyes don’t stop at your hands. His gaze lowers a short distance, you’re almost sure he’s looking at the brick road beneath you, but you’re not really sure why. When you stand back up he vaguely shakes his head, like he’s been thinking about something else, but you don’t miss it.  

“Thank you,” you say, too fast that it almost sounds insolent. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he returns with a smile behind his mask. “I’m Renjun, by the way.” He extends his hand for you to shake. What’s he doing? Why's he acting like he’s about to proceed with an interview or something?

You learn that he really does want to “interview” you. “I’m a youtuber,” he informs. It is only then that you realise someone else is standing behind him, occupied with a camera. 

“Oh,” you eventually reply, but nothing else. He waits for the typical “that’s cool!” but you are too quiet, Renjun can practically hear someone making a fuss about her peppermint hot chocolate being too hot in the distance. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It’s for a youtube video.” He speaks up. You say nothing at first. Your fingers that hide underneath the rib-knit cuff curl into a ball. You feel the crack that litters your lower lip flaunt itself, the thick lip balm that conceals it long gone. You seem even more conscious of your worn out shoes that somehow feel damper than they already are. Putting your weight on one leg, you try your best to decline him in the most mannerly way possible. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m actually late to class.”

You can’t see his smile but you know it falters. His glasses droop a little, you see the red marks on the bridge of his nose. “I see.” Is all he says. He looks back at his friend and shrugs. “Thank you, anyways.” Your stomach churns. You don’t want to be the reason he leaves empty handed, yet he is leaving, empty handed and all. Somehow, your concern for punctuality slowly withers away.

“No, wait,” you catch his fingers just before he turns the other way. He winces. Not because of the sudden swell of your voice, but because your hands are a little too cold. You steal a glance at the watch on your wrist. 15:32. Renjun finds your eyes. He doesn’t say it, that your hands are too cold, but he takes them in his own, warming them up. Strangely enough, your whole body heats up at the gesture. 

“Class can wait, whatever. What’d you want to ask me?”

Renjun’s eyes all but light up. He signals for his friend to start filming. “Alright, a few questions about college, I’m going to try and guess your major.”

“Oh, that’s new,” you raise an eyebrow. “Did you come up with the idea?”

“Nah,” Renjun laughs, he brings up a hand to push his hair back. “Just following a trend.”

15:33. You nod. “Alright, go on.”

You notice a few things about Renjun. The way he speaks, like you’ve known each other for a long time. The way his hair isn’t exactly brown, rather russet, a little red. When you look closer into his eyes, you see they match his hair. You wish you could see his lips, see if they’re as cracked as yours, if he puts lip balm on a little too much, but the black mask he wears that almost reaches his eyes tells you it’s too early for that. Perhaps, if he lowers the article just a few inches, you’ll understand that the circles beneath his eyes mean that he’s equally as tired as you. He asks you questions, not rushed, and though you are definitely late to class, you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.

“Might have an idea,” he looks to the camera tentatively, then back to you. “Chemistry?”

“You’re good,” your compliment reaches his ears. “How’d you guess?”

Renjun punches the air in glee as if he won the lottery. “Honestly, couldn’t get a single clue from what you said. But I saw your Analytical Chemistry book peeking out from your tote when it fell.” 

“Whoops, my bad.” You share a laugh. 

“And as a thank you for the—” he scrutinizes his watch, “—five minutes I just took from your time, this is for you.” A heat pack. You didn’t know how much you needed one until your hands reach for the item almost immediately.

15:38. You squeeze the pad as heat begins to radiate from it. Renjun’s friend lowers the camera as soon as you’re done filming, and it is then that Renjun seems like he has something else on his mind.

“Uhm,” he half-whispers. You look at him, confused. “Your shoes.”

You know what he means. Your shoes leave ambiguous trails of dirt, just slightly. Renjun notices it though. Your shoes are rather soggy, like they were deliberately dipped in water. Traces of soil scatter the outsole, centimetres up and you’ll see a small patch of fabric, sewn on to cover the hole that’s exposing your toes. You tremble slightly, bringing your right foot behind your left in an attempt to hide it from him. No one has ever pointed it out.

“Oh. They’re old, but, they work.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffs lightly. “Let me buy you new ones.”

“No.” You realise that comes out too abruptly. “Please, that’s really unnecessary.”

15:39.

“You’re late to class,” he reasons with you. “At least let me make it up to you.” The obscure rift on your bottom lip bleeds a little. You like to bite it whenever you feel nervous. Renjun reaches for his phone in the pocket of his ivory trousers and hands it to you. 

“We can go over the details through text,” he subtly looks at his friend, wanting to know if the gesture is okay. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

15:40. You give in. Your fingers are stiff—you realise you’re giving your number to a stranger, so you take some time to secretly ponder over the situation, although you hate to admit Renjun feels more like a new friend. He sends you a message once you give him his phone back just to make sure you get his number. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him. “That’s really kind of you.”

15:41.

You hesitate before a hand comes up to wave at him and his friend, though the heat pack is still crushed between your fingers. Renjun pulls his mask down for the first time, and it would be weird to say you were waiting for it. For his smile. You can perceive through the white fabric whenever it shifts that he is smiling underneath there, but now it’s irrefutable, the evidence that he actually is smiling, and you’re glad that’s the last thing you see before the customary sight moulds into view, once again. 

If someone had told you this morning that you’d be willing to sacrifice your punctuality for a stranger, you’d knock some sense into them. But as you stand before the doors to the lecture hall, phone in your grip as you stare at the cerulean waters you fancy as your lock screen, no, rather, the notification that overlays it “let me know when you’re in class, i feel responsible lol”, the unusual feeling that blooms inside your chest reminds you that you could live a little less orderly and a little more self-willed.

15:43.

You’re thirteen minutes late. Though now, nothing really bothers you as much as not being able to concentrate in class because he’s all you can think about. 

[artificialqueens]

Little Home (Deladore) - Candy Cane

A/N: soooo… i know i havent exactly been around lately. im dealing with a lot  of things atm (like most people lol) but i managed to get this out for the rare pair challenge! i think its a cute ship and i really hope that u enjoy @drag-race-jedi <3 im also working on the third installment of Everything is Color, and i have planned it out so that the series is at least five works so we’ll see how that goes sdfsdgf hope yall enjoy this lil fic for today tho

Summary: Adore was always a clutz.

Adore has been trying very hard for the last hour to not get in Dela’s way, and she would probably be more successful if she just sat still in a different room, but she loves watching her girlfriend in the kitchen. And even more than that she loves helping her girlfriend in the kitchen. The singer can admit she’s an awful fucking cook on top of being a giant clutz, she just doesn’t allow either of those things stop her. Tonight is very special though, as they’re throwing a dinner party to christen the new house they’re renting out together.

It’s a small house, only one bedroom since they really don’t need a ton of space. The big appeal lies in that it’s near each of their jobs and the parts of town that they frequent the most. By no means was it an easy find, but it’s perfect for them. Adore loves that she gets to have her own home with the person she is fairly certain is the love of her life, who is currently flying about the kitchen in a frenzy trying to get everything ready.

They have one more hour until all four of the people they invited start arriving and Adore is getting worried for Dela. The older woman is clearly stressed, wearing a nervous frown as she completes each task as best as she can. While Adore knows she’s not really being helpful trailing after Dela like a dejected puppy, she’s not sure what else she could do.

“Babe…” Adore whines, big pleading eyes looking down at Dela with a very convincing pout, “I wanna help!”

Dela sighs from where she’s standing at the counter, knife in hand as she cuts the mushrooms for her vegetable medley, “And you already set the table?”

“Yeah!” Adore nods eagerly.

“And did the dishes?”

“All the ones you gave me,” Adore says earnestly.

The older purses her lips thoughtfully, “I need to do some touch ups for tonight. Do you think you can cut these and put them in the pan?”

Adore grins, realizing she’s worn down on Dela, “Yup! Go take care of yourself baby, I’ve totally got this!”

Dela smiles softly, “Alright, but be careful. Remember what happened the last time I gave you a knife?”

“I’ll be fine!” Adore insists, shooing her girlfriend back towards the bedroom, “I’ll yell if I need help.”

“Alright…” Dela relents skeptically, quickly disappearing into their bedroom to freshen up for the evening.

She loves Adore, a lot, but her girlfriend is nothing less than a walking disaster. No matter what it seems she manages to find a way to wind up with a new set of scrapes and bruises everyday, even though Dela begs Adore to be more careful. Still, most nights Dela finds herself forcing Adore to put a bandaid on a particularly bad cut, or put ice on especially nasty bruises. While Dela worries and is often frustrated by Adore’s unusual habit, she loves being able to take care of her.

It didn’t take long for her to come to that conclusion. However, it did take a while to become completely comfortable with that conclusion. She feels all warm and soft inside whenever Adore gives her a kiss and a ‘thank you’ after she takes care of her. Though what she loves most is knowing that Adore is safe, and healthy.

Just minutes after starting to redo her hair, Dela hears a loud yelp from the kitchen. She quickly sets down her hair brush and heads back to the kitchen, a worried shout of “Adore?!” on her lips.

This has to be a new record, Dela thinks, a little amused at the thought but mostly concerned for her disastrous girlfriend.

The first thing she sees upon entering the kitchen is Adore hunched over the cutting board, one hand gripping the other tightly, long hair covering her face, and her shoulders visibly quivering.

Dela runs up to her and wraps her arms tightly around the taller girl, then reaches out for her clearly injured hand. There’s blood dripping from her hand onto the cutting board and all over the mushrooms, the sight of which causing Dela to feel a little sick and very worried.

“Let me see,” Dela says, attempting to pry Adore’s hands apart so that she can survey how bad the cut really is. She hopes it’s not actually very deep, that Adore is just being dramatic, but there’s really no telling quite yet.

“I’m okay,” Adore says through clenched teeth, not letting Dela look at her hand.

“Honey, please,” Dela begs softly, moving Adore’s hair out of the way to look into her eyes.

Adore sucks in a sharp breath and slowly reveals her hand to Dela, whispering a very quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Upon gently taking her hand to inspect it further Dela discovers that the cut is surprisingly shallow, it’s just deep enough to bleed a lot but not deep enough to mean any real damage was done. She sighs in relief, and kisses Adore’s cheek softly. She’s mostly just glad that Adore isn’t severely hurt, as that would not make for a fun evening for any of them.

“Accidents happen, but maybe I shouldn’t leave you unsupervised in the kitchen anymore,” Dela reassures her teasingly.

Adore giggles wetly, rubbing roughly at the tears collecting in the corner of her eyes with her good hand, “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Dela pulls Adore over to the sink, carefully eyeing the way Adore grips her wounded hand, “Sweetness, I have to clean it.”

“I know,” Adore pouts, “It just hurts even more when you do though!”

“I’m sorry, I know,” Dela soothes, turning on the sink faucet and guiding Adore’s hand underneath the warm, low pressure water.

After rinsing it with water thoroughly, Dela pours hydrogen peroxide over the wound, shushing and soothing Adore the whole time. The younger whines and grumbles through the whole thing, and Dela feels terrible for it, she does, but she knows how necessary it is and doesn’t allow her girlfriend to pout her way out of it. She pats it dry with a paper towel, presses a cotton pad onto the wound, then wraps that in medical grade tape from their first aid box.

“There!” Dela finishes with her signature smile, “All done.”

“Thank you, baby,” Adore says, leaning forward to kiss Dela. It lasts a few more seconds than she had planned, but in no way does she complain.

“Anything for my girl,” Dela murmurs.

It’s an exciting way to start their new life in this new home, Dela can’t deny that it’s very… them, though. She knows the rest of the night will be fun, and that Adore will animatedly tell the story of why her hand is all wrapped up with all the excitement of an eight year old. Dela loves that she knows her girlfriend so well. She loves that they trust each other so thoroughly, so deeply.

Dela has never had anyone like this in her life before, someone to take care of and someone that will gladly take care of her. Like any other couple, they need different things from each other. That’s part of why they are so perfect together. Dela is certain this is what she wants for the rest of her life. She’s certain she wants this.

Adore grins at her with love and confidence, with warm and heart, and Dela knows that this is what she wants to. It works. They work. Perfectly, just like this.

[zmayadw]

Evening to all :)

Allright, so after two days of terrible headache, one sleepless night, lots and lots of coffee, and constant tweeks of what I already had written, its time to continue with the story. Lets have some fun at the Aurora :)

Wish you all a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 8

We left the restauran and drove to Aurora. It was saturday night, but the bar wasnt that much filled with people yet. The Aurora was like most of the bars : booths wer on each side, tables towards the middle, but still leaving enough room for people to dance. The bar was on the opposite from the entrance with barstools arround it, a smaller stage and karaoke machine on the left, basement/storage entrance on the right, with big TV above it. Since Jessy's brother Phil was the owner of Aurora, we had a booth waitng for us. We settled at our booth, and i got up to get us drinks, since they refused to let me chip in for the dinner. Dan decided its still too early for whiskey, but emphasised that at some point in the evening we're having it. Jessy just groaned at that, and i chuckled going to the bar ordering us beers. As i was waitig, a guy appeared behind the bar „Put this on the house, Dave. Cant let her pay for her first drink here.“  As i turned ,he winked at me, setteling down a box with bottles on the counter. „Hello, Phil.“ I smiled at him „And thansk for the drinks.“ He extended his hand towards me, and i did the same. He took it, moved it towards his lips, giving me one of those cavalier kiss on it „Hello, Maya, nice to finaly meet you.“ I felt a little heat coming to my cheeks. Phil really was a charmer, as i was told, especially from Jessy, but i must admit he wasnt bad looking. He had a long brown hair, mostly worn in a tail. His eyes wer dark brown, and he was tall and muscaline. He was wearing a white shirt with the Aurora written on it, wich just made his tattoos more noticable. I was a sucker for tattoos. „Do all girls get such a charming 'hello' from you here?“ i asked teasingly. He grinned devilishly „Just the special ones.“ „I got warned about you, trying to sweet talk me.“ I grinned back.  „Can you blame me? I'm a sucker for a beautifull woman.“ I felt even more heat coming to my cheeks, and was greatfull the light wernt that bright, so noone would notice, especialy Phil. It felt good, being flirted like this, but i didnt want to give Phil any wrong ideas. I knew from Jessy that he was interested in me, and to be honest, if Jake was out of the picture, it might be different. „Thanks for the compliment! But, i have to warn you, i might not be a good choice.“ I said, making a serious face, leaning a bit closer towards him over the bar, wich made him do the same. „I was told i was reckles and out of control, kinda hard to handle, stressing people too much.“ He looked at me, that devilish spark in his eyes intensifieing „Well, Maya, maybe you just havent met your match..yet.“ „Maybe.“ I replied, leaning back, smile forming at the corner of my mouth. We just stared at eachother like that for a while, Phils gaze intensifing with each moment. I felt my heart starting to beat faster, and i was really confused about it. What was happening here? Ok, Phil was good looking, but Jake was the one i was longing for. Wasnt he? „Well, as much as i'm enjoying talking to you, i better get those beers over to my friends.“ He glanced towards our booth „You just might need some more beer.“ I turned to see what was it that he refered to, and saw the whole gang showed up while we wer talking. Including Jake. I was glad to see him, i didnt really think this was a place he would feel comfortable being at, but i supposed Hannah made him come. I heard from Jessy they wer spending much time together, the three of them, wich wasnt to be unexpected. He was their halfbrother after all, they wanted to get to know eacother better. And Hannah made him stay at her appartment since he came to Duskwood.  And then i noticed Jake staring, but it wasnt me he was staring at, but Phil. Oh boy, i tought, can my life be simple for just one evening. I turned to Phil, sighing „I guess your right.“ I took the beers, slowely moving from the bar, walking backwards. „Oh, and i have a feeling i might need something stronger soon, so keep a glass close for me.“ I said skeptical, but Phil just grined and winked „I'll be right here with that glass ready.“

As i neared the booth, putting on my best smile, they all stood up cheering. I settled the beers on the table, Hannah embracing me in a tight hug, with Thomas grining behind her. „Its so good to finaly do this.“ She said. „Its good to see you , Hannah.“ I said, hugging her back. Hannah let go of me, and now it was Cleo's turn. „Dont you scare us like that anymore, you hear me!“ she scolded me before smiling „I promise.“ She let go of me, and they all sat back. I grabbe myself a chair from the table near us, since the booth was full now. As i sat down, i glanced at Jake. He smiled and nooded at me, and i smiled back. Lily was just siting there, barely sparing me a look. I tried not to take it too personal, from the begining she wasnt that much fond of me, and the feeling is mutual. „So, how are you feeling?“ Hannah asked me. „Oh, im much better, thanks for asking. Few more days and i'll be back to my old self.“ I told her, as a waiter, Dave , came to our booth, bringing five more beers. I turned towards the bar. Phil just winked at me, and continued about his business. I noticed Jake saw that also, his body tensing a bit. „Thats good to hear.“ Hannah siad, and Dan chimed in „I'll drink to that!“ raising his glass towards me. I got my glass and added cheerfuly to him „Me too!“ Now Lily finaly spoke „Good thing it ended as it did, we could all be drinking our sorrow instead.“ I tensed at her words, a bit of rage forming in me, but Hannah jumped in before i could say anything. „Lily, stop it. We are all aware of how things might ended, no need to emphasising it anymore.“ She sounded tired saying it, i got a feeling this wasnt the first time the two of them had a similar conversation. „Im sorry, Hannah“ Lily continued „but you know how i feel. Maya's actions could have terrible consequencess, and i dont see what is there to celebrate.“ „How about me being here, Lily? Is that good enough reason for you?“ Hannah asked, but Lily just sat there silently. I couldnt be quiet anymore. „Im sorry you feel that way Lily.“ I started. „I expected you to be more happy now that Hannah is back. Yes, i made some mistakes, i know. But we all do mistakes, Lily, you should know it all too well.“ She shot me such a angry look when i said it. It wasnt my intention to start a fight with her or anything, i knew all too well how badly all of it could have ended, but i was also tired of it being dragged out constantly. „My sister could have died!“ Lily basicly screamed, wich made few people arround us turn to see what was happening. „Lily, enough!“ Hannah started, but i really had enough, and my head started to hurt a bit now. „Your sister could have died eitherway, Lily“ i said basicly hissing at her „No matter what i might have or might have not done. At least i had the guts to act, and would do the same all over again if i had to, gladly. Luckily, things turned out for the better. You should be happy about it, and stop dwelling on the 'what if's'. If you cant do that, to just be happy you got your sister back, then for fuck sake i dont know what more to say to you.“ As i finished, you could feel the tension gathering around. „Sorry all, but i need something stronger to drink.“ I stood up going for the bar.

Phil came as i sat on one of the stools, rasing his eyebrow  „My, my, you wernt wrong about needing that drink. So, whats your poison?“ he asked me grining. „Oh, whatever you grab first, as long as it washes the bitternes out.“ I said, feeling that rage not setteling, and my head throbing some more. He grabbed two shot glasses, pouring both with whiskey. „Dont mind if i join you.“ He said, rising one of the glasses. I grinned, taking my glass knocking it at his „Its no fun drinking alone, anyway!“ „Bottoms up!“ he chimed, and we exed our gasses. „One more, please, the bitter taste is still not washed completly.“  „Comming right up!“ he said cheerfuly, filled both again, and we drank those too. Someone patted me on my shoulder, and i turned to see Dan standing next to me. „Aww, Maya, you started without me.“ He said, being dramatic and acting hurt. „Aww, sorry Dan“ i said making a sad face „You cant really blame me, after all that just happened back there.“ „Point taken“ he said, sitting next to me. I turned towards the booth. Jessy, Cleo, Thomas and Hannah wer still there. I could see they didnt seem much affected by any of what just happened. But Lily was gone. And so was Jake. Great, i tought. The night began so nicely, i guess it was too good to last. „Well, Dan, feel free to join us now. The more, the merrier.“ I turned to Phil. „Barkeep, antoher glass for my 'nonjudgemental' friend here, please.“ Phil grinned, taking one more glass and filling them all again „The lady commands, the lady gets!“ Now the three of us chinned our glasses, and drank up. „Phil, i think you and I will be very good friends.“ I started „Since i assume you are not theirs most likable person of all time.“ i waved my hand towards the booth. „And i suppose as of now, i might join that club, too.“ Phil looked at me, a bit sirious  „I told you once before, Maya. Everyone gets the exactly right ammount of respect from me as deserved. I dont bother with the tought if im 'likable' to someone or not. You dont mess with me, and i dont mess with you, its simple as that.“ „Amen to that!“ It was Dan, and both Phil and me looked at him, not really expecting it. I started laughing so hard „Oh, Dan, thanks, i needed this.“ „What?“ Dan looked at me, question marks written all over his face. Phil just shook his head, lowering it down, hiding himself smiling too, filling our glasses again, and drinking his up. „If you two would excuse me, i actually have some work to do.“ He winked at me as he left. „Be careful Maya, Phil is a player.“ Dan told me a bit serious. „Dont worry, Dan, i'm a big girl, i can take care of myself. So, tell me, how much am i hated at the moment amongst the others?“ i asked him. „Dont worry, Maya, nobody hates you, trust me. But you gotta understand Lily. She really was scared for Hannah, and she tought she was doing her best.“ He paused for a while before adding  „Just like you did.“ I looked at Dan, and tought 'shit, he has a point there'. „Ah, crap, Dan, why you have to be so 'smartypants' all of a sudden?!“ He chuckled at me „Look, both of you did what you did, and it ended how it did. Even if you dont see it, you both expected the same result. Just your ways of trying to acomplish it wer totaly different. And thats where all hell broke loose.“ I knew Dan was right, but i tought Lily would be at least a bit happier for having Hannah back, and not to be all bitchy about it, clinging so tightly on all the things that could go wrong. „All right, enough with this serious talk. I tought we came here to drink.“ I started, but added quickly so Dan dont feel me being ungrateful „But, thanks Dan. I understand what you wanted to say to me. I will keep it in mind,  for the next time.“ Dan smiled and noded at me. I took a sip of my whiskey, when there was another tap on my shoulder. It was Hannah „Hey, just wanted to say we're leaving. It was really nice seeing you, we should definatly do this again.“ She said, adding „When things cool down a bit.“ She gave me an appologetic look, „Yeah, definatly! And it was really nice seeing you two, Hannah.“ She hugged me „And dont take Lily by the heart, please. I know she can overreact sometimes, but she means well.“ „Dont worry, Hannah,  i understand, its all good. Hope i wasnt too forward myself.“ Now i looked at her appologeticly. „Everything is good.“ She smiled „Take care, Maya, see you later.“ „Laters you two.“ I waved at Hannah and Thomas as they left. Cleao and Jessy joined us at the bar. „Uhh, that was fun.“ Cleo said. „Indeed. Not really my definition of a 'fun night' i expected.“ „Dont worry, Maya. Lily is just a hard person sometimes, a bit overprotective, too. She will calm down, eventualy.“ Cleo told me, to wich I replied a bit skeptical „ So everyone tells me.“ Phil came to us, taking two new glasses „C'mon you sad lot, enough with it. I tought we wer celebrating a 'new girl in town'!“ he said cheerfuly, winking at me, filling all the glasses up, handing one for Jessy and Cleo. Jessy groaned at it, scolding Phil „Ohh, dont encourage this two, Phil“ she said, pointing at Dan and me „I'm the one who will have to endure them for the rest of our evening, with all that whiskey in them. And we all know Dan and whiskey doesnt end well.“ „Hey babe, dont be like that!“ Dan said to her, in that dramatical and hurt way he does, making Cleo and me laugh. „See, it already started.“ Jessy said, leaning her elbovs on the bar, sighing sadly, now she trying to be dramatic. „Awwww babe, i promise i'll behave.“ Dan said, pecking her on the cheek. „You better behave..remember, im the one you're going home with.“ She told him, giving him one of her serious looks. Phil was just taking a sip of his drink, and hearing Jessy say it laughed so hard that he spat his drink out. Cleo and me laughed with him, but Dan looked at Jessy all pale„Yes, ma'am!“. I took my glass, raising it „Last one? Then we get beer again.“ Jessy looked at me „Deal!“, the rest of them taking their glasses and we drank. „That's it for me“ Cleo said „I'll be going now. Have to be early at the Gates of Hope tomorrow. And you all know how my mother can be if its not her way.“ She said shuddering a bit at it. „Ohh, we dont want to get Miranda cross at you, or any of us.“ Jessy said, giving Cleo a look of symphaty. Cleo hugged me „It was nice seeing you, Maya. We should definatly do this again, soon. And i promise i wont leave so early next time.“ „No worrys, Cleo, thanks for coming anyway.“ I said, smiling back at her. She waved us goodby and left. We ordered some beer then, as i promised Jessy no more whiskey. „Sorry, Maya, i really didnt think this will go so badly.“ Jessy looked at me appologeticaly. „Oh, dont sweat it, Jessy“ i grinned at her „Im having more fun with just the two of you, anyway.“ She grinned back, when Phil looked at me, making a sad face, mimicing Dan's hurt gesture „Awww, and what about me, i dont belong in this 'fun club'?“ I looked at him and winked „We have our special 'secret club', remember?“ That made Jessy switch her look from Phil too me, all puzzled, but Phil just grined devilishly at me, winking „We sure do.“ Jessy turned to Phil now, making a serious face, waving her finger at him „Phil, you better behave! Maya is not a 'toy' to play with and throw away after it.“ I jumped in, before Phil could say anything „Oh, dont worry, Jessy. Phil was nothing but a gentelmen towards me.“ Phil grined at her, makeing an aureola sign above his head with his hands, sugesting him being an angel. Jessy just snorted „Yeah, yeah, more like a 'devil in disguise'.“ „Im not sure who's the 'devil in disguise' here actualy.“ Phil said looking at me intensely, my cheeks flushing again.

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Part 11)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,721

Warnings 18+

Author’s Note: sorry for the day delay it seems like its going to be that week for me, but i will work to be better for next week! I will be prepared i promise lol! I hope you enjoy this chapter, as much as i enjoyed writing it lol! Thank you for reading angels!

Part 10 / SERIES MASTERLIST

“It’s too much,” you moaned grasping a hold of his wrist.

Your thighs quivered under the weight of his fingers dragging up your sensitive skin. Bucky chuckled huskily, nipping at your heated, sweaty skin, his tongue running over the bite.

“Told you I had plans for you doll,” he grinned.

Your body shiver under his, “didn’t think you’d meant overstimulation,” you murmured in your post orgasmic state.

He was chuckling lowly again then, “oh baby, you think that was overstimulation, that’s nothing close to it,”

“Buck” you groaned attempting to squirm away from those sinful lips, but his arms held you in place.

“Stop moving,” he grunted at the swat of your arms.

“I’m gross and sweaty Buck, I need a shower and sleep,”

He held you tighter his face burying itself into your neck, “shower and sleep when I’m out, right now I just wanna be with my girl,”

Your body stilled heart thumping away in your chest at his words, a sleepy smile pulling at your lips, “your girl huh,” you questioned, “ and where are you going?”

He picked up his head to look at you, “Tony’s send me out for recon, shouldn’t be more than a few days,”

Your brows furrowed, “Buck we just got back, YOU just got back, when did you accept the job?”

“At the debriefing, I’m going in alone though, it’ll be much faster that way,”

Though you didn’t voice it in worry of starting up an argument with him probably hours before he left something about this just didn’t sit right with you.

Wanting to push away the worry in your mind you pressed your lips to his once more. The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other until the early hours of the morning, your body clinging to his, the worry still sitting heavy on your chest.

It lingered though the feeling growing as you walked hand in hand with Bucky to the jet. The others had met with him earlier to see him off, wanting to give you two privacy for when he actually had to depart.

You watched him move around the area, making sure he had everything he needed. You rubbed at your chest hoping to ease some of the pressure that sat there.

Bucky turned in time to catch the motion, his brows furrowed, “you okay doll?”

You looked up from where your eyes had fallen to the ground to see a look of concern on his face, “yeah just thinking,” you murmured, Bucky didn’t believe it for a second. Closing the distance between the two of you he sweeped you into his arms, fingers crossing behind your back.

“What’s on your mind?” he voiced int your hair.

“just worried is all,” you didn’t want to keep him in the dark, but you also didn’t want to say too much and have him upset during flight, it would do him no good for him to go in without his head on straight.

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your lower back, “I'll be home before you know it, I'll also be just fine sweetheart,”

You sighed leaning into his chest, “I just don’t like that they’re sending you out again, can’t they give us a break,”

He chuckled into your hair, puffs of warm air tousling your locks, “babe the bad guys never take a day's rest so we’re no exception,” he sighed, “I'll be safe, it’s an in and out job, and I'll be doing exactly that, in and out, once I get the chance and I'm sure I’m threw I'll get into contact with you, I won’t be gone longer than a week,”

You nodded your head, fingers curling into his gear a little tighter not wanting to let go just yet, “just come home, that’s all I ask,” you whispered looking up at him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “I’ll come home to you, that’s a promise sweetheart,”

Your job was dangerous, the bad guys were ruthless, there was never telling if a job could go sideways, but at least you had each other to fall back too, except this time you were sending one in alone, and while Bucky had promised you he would come home to you there was just no promising that, but you wouldn’t voice your concern.

With a simple nod of your head and a bruising kiss to pressed to his lips you watched him walk away from you.

He’d be alright you thought, he’s going to come back to you at the end of the week, and everything will be as it once was.

You had been able to keep yourself and your mind busy the first few days, constantly reminding yourself that Bucky had till the end of the week. Those reminders had begun after day two, which had been Bucky’s guess of him returning home. Alongside that reminder you also had to tell yourself he was only taking longer to get home because it was a one-man job, and he didn’t have that back-up to make things move along faster. Day three and four, you were being to get restless without Bucky around to bother you, or keep you company, so you spent most of your time between Natasha, Sam and Steve. Day five was spent locked away in your room under the covers of your bed waiting for your phone to light up. Days six and seven were spent trying to remain hopeful but as the seconds, minutes, and hours ticked you by, the hope dwindled being replaced by the heavy worry on your chest.

Day 8 had you pacing, silent tears running down your face, he had been caught.

Steve had called the team down for an emergency meeting and had broken the news to you then.

“what do you mean he’s been caught, caught by who?” you questioned hurriedly, a look of worry taking over your features.

Sam had slid over to you, his arms wrapping around your shoulder, you had watched as Steve released a sigh, hand rubbing over the worry lines on his head.

“we don’t know much more right now other than that,”

Your heart fell from your chest, “are we going in to get him?”  

“these men are dangerous y/n, we can’t just send anybody in, sending Bucky in was already a risk, I can’t risk another member,”

“wait, wait, wait,” you shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts, “you knew this was a dangerous recon even for him and you still sent him in alone?”

“We had no other choice, if we sent more than one person in they would have caught on,”  

You threw your hands in the air almost knocking Sam away, “Steve we’re smarter than that, you could have sent in two, three, hell maybe even the whole team and we would have been smart enough to work through it, instead you made the rash decision to send him in alone,”

Steve knew you were right, “I couldn’t risk the team,” he sighed.

“But you could risk him?” you questioned voice rising with anger.

“He signed himself up” Steve fired back, “he asked me to put him in, he said he wanted to be the one sent on this mission, you really think I would have just sent him in there by himself, I tried talking him out of it, hell even Sam tried as well, but he argued that he could be in and out, that it would be a walk in the park,”

You looked to Sam, “it’s true y/n, we tried talking him out of it, we all wanted to believe this wouldn’t go sideways,”.

You sighed, “so how are we getting him out,”

A knock on your door had you wiping at your tears, you muttered a nasally come in, your door slowly swung open. Steve stood just outside of your door, “you can always back out if you need too, you don’t need to do this,”

Your hands fanned over your face, “just like you said you couldn’t risk sending in another member, this is me saying you won’t have to,” steve sighed, “Steve you said yourself these men know you, they know Natasha and they know Sam, had wanda not been away you could have sent her in, but she’s not I'm your only choice at possibly bringing him home,”

“just because they aren’t aware of you y/n doesn’t mean this will end well, it doesn’t mean you’re going to have a successful mission, it doesn’t-”

“Steve” you growled cutting him off, “you don’t think I know all of this, you don’t think I'm aware of  all the possible dangers that come with our job, I know what I'm going into, and right now I'm our only hope of bringing him home, if-”

“don’t think like that y/n”

“like I said I know what dangers this job can bring, and super soldier or not, you aren’t immortal, when do I leave?”

Steve didn’t want to send you in, just like he didn’t want to send Bucky but he knew you were the only one with a remote chance of getting in and getting the two of you out. In his mind there was just no other way, he just prayed you wouldn’t end up in the same predicament as his best-friend.

Your sendoff was much more different than Bucky’s, no one there to see you off, the member’s torn apart by the hard decision Steve had to make. You couldn’t blame them though, it was better like this, in your experience at least, you just hope unlike Bucky you would be coming home, and with him in tow.

You looked up at the ratty, worn down metal warehouse before looking back down at the location Steve had sent you of Bucky’s last seen ware abouts. Pocketing your device you made sure your holster was secured around your thigh, your knife and gun tucked away neatly. You took quick calculated steps towards the building, staying light on your feet, molding in with the shadows. You stopped abruptly when your device vibrated profusely from within the confines of your pants. Pulling it out you pressed it to your ears ducking, “what is it Steve, are you trying to give me away?” you hissed.

“the men have been taken care of y/n, just get Bucky out and bring him home,”

Your words caught in your throat, “w-what do you mean taken care of, this is the first place I came too, havent even come across any goons.”

Steve laughed on the other end, “we had some help,”

“so Bucky should be the only one I come across?” you questioned unbelieving it could really be this easy.

“from what we’ve gathered, yes, but still be watchful, I know you won’t have another pair of eyes to watch your back but I also know you’ll do just fine,”

A sigh left your lips, “for once I hope you’re right,” you muttered.

“Just get home safe, we’ll be waiting here for you and Barnes,”

“noted Rogers, see you in a minute,” you grinned though he couldn’t see it.

Steve chuckled before a click sounded from the device, you pocketed it, taking in a shuddering breath before your feet pushed you forward. Finding a side door, you pulled it open cringing when it squeaked on its rusty hinges. Leave it to Barnes to get caught and captured in a rundown warehouse, the whole building was screaming for someone to get caught. Rusty doors, a broken infrastructure, hell even the cemented floors had a squeak to them.

You continued to walk further into the darkened building the only guiding light was from the holes in the roof filtering in the moonlight. Not seeing any sign of other’s around you moved around faster, coming from the shadows to speed up your search. You kicked various doors in but found nothing except torn down rooms. The worry was beginning to creep on you, but you shook the feeling off intent on tearing this warehouse top to bottom if that’s what it took to find Bucky.

You were coming across the last door in the building and you worried that just like the others he wouldn’t be here either. Like the other’s before it this one was also locked, lifting your foot up and back you brought it down onto the weak structure, the door shattering under your foot, splinters of wood flying in every direction.

“fuck you’re a sight for sore eyes,”

You sagged in the doorway a breath of relief falling from your lips, “oh thank god you’re alright,” you breathed moving forward on shaky legs.

Bucky was suspended up, handcuffs bound tightly to his wrists, the toe of his boots scuffing the floor occasionally as he dangled.

You looked at the cuffs, his wrist bloody, “Jesus Buck how did you manage to get yourself into a predicament like this,” you questioned as you thought a way to get him down.

“I've been caught for a few days now babe, they only just managed to hold me down long enough to bring me out here and cuff me in this damn room, they had received word that you all were coming in for retrival and decided to move me before you all could get to them a mistake on their end if you ask me”

You shook your head, looking around the room for something to stand on, you weren’t sure how long his wrist could hold his weight up, and frankly you didn’t want to find out, “did they take out all the things for me to possibly stand on, why the hell did they choose such a shitty place to handcuff you too,” you groaned.

Bucky grinned, “would you have preferred they handcuff me to your bed?”

You stopped your search to whip your head around to stare at him, “I should just leave you there for joking about this, you had us all worried,” you muttered.

Buckys grin fell, “m’sorry sweetheart, just trying to make light of a shitty situation, thought it would make you smile.”

“well don’t Buck you-” you sucked in a shaky breath, “you had me worried, you should have never agreed to this mission, you should have never said you would take it,”

He raised a brow, “how did you know?” he questioned.

“Steve told me,” you murmured as you looked at his wrists, a frustrated sigh left your lips. There was nothing for you to climb on to get you to those cuffs, well nothing except for maybe Bucky, but even then the added weight will just have it chewing through his wrist that much quicker.

You moved toward him, “this may hurt,” you muttered as you threw a leg over his waist, your arms going around his neck as you hoisted yourself up, breasts pushed into his face. You hit him with your foot, “buck stop nuzzling my damn breasts, I'm trying to get you off,”

“you’re messing with the wrong thing if you want to do that sweetheart,” he murmured biting at your chest.

A groan fell from your lips, “buck, babe seriously, I need to get you down your right wrist is bleeding and all you can do right now is think with your head downstairs?”  

“can you blame a man, sweetheart, it's been 8 days without you, and the first thing I'm greeted with is your breasts in my face, I can die happily now,” he grinned nipping at your skin again, “ow fuck, okay, I'll stop” he grunted when you sent him another kick to his backside.

“good” you muttered, as you worked on freeing his right wrist, it took you awhile but after searching through yours and Buckys body you finally found something promising to poke through the key whole, it took a few seconds before his bloodied wrist was falling free from the confines of the cuff the hand wrapping itself around you waist. You immediately slid across his body to the other side, “god doll,” he murmured his face pushing into your chest again, “you have no idea how much I missed you,”

“I’m pretty sure I have an idea,” you grunted feeling his hardness, “buck stop moving goddamnit, I'm trying to get you free here,”

A growl was leaving his lips, his left hand whirred under yours a crack sounding through the room as he pulled down the wooden bar he had been cuffed too splitting. You both tumbled to the ground his body falling on top of yours, a pained groan leaving your lips at the impact, “fuck why didn’t you just do that before,” you huffed wincing at the pain that shot up your back.

He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance between you his lips pressing to your roughly, a moan is leaving his lips at the feel of yours against his. Your fingers tangle in his long locks, bringing him closer tongues dancing with one another. He pushes you into the cement below your back, desperate to feel you, to be close to you.

“missed you so much doll,” he murmurs as he pulls away to run his lips over the rest of you he can reach. Sucking in a breath of air, a moan falls from your lips as Bucky finds his way down to your neck, nipping at the” sensitive skin there. Your hands slide down to his chest, trying to push him up but he won’t budge, “buck,” you moan body arching, “we need to go, we can finish this when we get home, let’s get you home baby,” you groaned as he sucked at the skin of your neck.

He’s not listening as his hands slide down your body fingers working the button of your pants open, hand sliding past your panties, finger seeking out your warmth. “Fuck Bucky please,” you moan as his fingers expertly find your aching bundle. He nips at your chin, fingers circling your clit, your body arching as your body thrums with pleasure.

“need you baby,” he whispers, “don’t want to wait till we get home to have you writhing under me,”

Your pussy is clenching at his words, the words doing things to you, “please,” your moaning again, though your not sure what your asking for.  

“tell me what you want baby,” he sounds wrecked and you’re not even doing anything to him.

His fingers sliding into your heat have all coherent thoughts flying out the window, fuck me you thought.

“you want me to fuck you baby?” he whispers leaning down to nip at you ear.

Shit, you had said that out loud in your pleasurable haze, it’s not like the team was waiting for you outside, and fuck if you hadn’t been hot and horny the entire time he had been gone. Throwing caution to the wind you lean up to press your mouth to his tongue sliding against his, lips moving needily against one another.

You slide your hands between your bodies, fingers searching for the button of his pants. The little space between your bodies has Bucky growling into you lips as he pushes up his hand slapping yours away as he works his own pants down, cock springing free from the confines of his pants. Your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

“like what you see sweetheart,” he grins pumping himself a few times, the tip running over you wet folds.

Another plea falls from your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance sinking in slowly, low groans falling from both of your mouths.

Bucky’s head falls back feeling your pussy clench around his aching member, “fuck that feels so good,” he hisses through gritted teeth. He falls forward forehead pressing against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. Your eyes are staring deeply into one another, a desperate need growing from within you feeling his cock throb inside of your warmth. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, “fuck me buck, I need you,” your moaning against his lips.

His hips pull back slowly, his cock dragging within you leaving behind a delicious burn, he's just at the tip before he’s slamming back in. The pace he sets is relentless, your body sliding against the cemented floor, low hisses falling from your lips at the burn. His hips are driving into you, hands keeping you in place as he fucks up into you. You cling into him, head buried in his shoulder, moans of his name falling from your lips.

His thrusts are wild, desperate, muscles tense under your fingers that keep you bound to him. You had never had Bucky like this, so desperate, needy, out of control, you’d be lying if you said this didn’t do things for you.

Your close and Bucky can tell, your walls clenching around him tightly as he draws your wound up body closer to release, “you going to cum for me sweetheart, cum all over my cock?” he questions fingers sliding down to circle your aching clit.

A loud moan is falling from your lips at not only his fingers but also his words, fuck if that isn't the hottest thing you’d ever heard fall from his sinful lips.

“Cum for me y/n, come on baby cum for me,” he moans into your ear, licking over the shell of it, that’s all it takes for him to have you falling apart in his arms. Your back arches, chest pressing into his as your orgasm takes over your body. The moans falling from your lips is enough to send him over as well, his warmth filling you up, “fuck y/n!” he groans continuing to fuck you through both your orgasms.

He slumps forward body crushing yours, face nuzzling your neck as he breathes you in, “I really did miss you sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your fingers find their way into his hair scratching at his scalp, “I missed you too Buck,” you whispered pressing a kiss to his head, “can we agree to never do this again,”

“Won’t promise, but I'll try my hardest,” he replies picking up his weary head to look at you.

Your fingers run over his face, “I’ll take that,” you murmur pressing your lips to his.

Part 12

Behind The Screen Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004​ @multy-fandom-lover​ @otvlanga​ @sailorstupidsblog​ @n1ghtsh4d3-67​ @wantingtobekorra​ @gazzan-a​ @clarinette07​ @amanda-the-fangirl​ @im-sure-its-fine​ @sagechanoafterdark​ @heyywestman @runaway-escape​ @ilovesupersoldiers​  @unlistedpond​ @rayofdawnworld​ @badassbaker​ @spookyanairwin​ @fandom-basurero​ @krabby-tentacles​ @sassy-pelican​ @lizlepuffs​ @jaywolf840​ @xoasalxo @buckys-plums3​ @buchanansebba​

[iamtheempress]

Lets Talk

She nursed a nice bruise on her face in the bathroom, one that bloomed from her cheek to the top of her brow, extending a green fingertip to her cheek to heal it slowly, hopefully bringing back some natural skin tone to her cheek again.

 A normal practice for treating her wounds all her life, all while keeping herself awake and conscious with an energy drink that was half empty and the ever present feeling of anticipation. The source of anticipation lingering on that phone beside her, a burner phone she bought at the beginning of the day.

Chiaki's eyes flickered to her burner phone right next to her, waiting for a reply from a face shed only met during a fight earlier that morning with her father. 

Heroes against Villains, that old fight that will seemingly never ever cease, she cant remember why the incident happened but she just knew that she and her father were first responders along with a handful of other heroes.

 She inspects the faded mark on her face and closes the door to the bathroom, quietly as to not wake her mother who had tried to quell her worried eldest daughter, Aoi had retired to bed about an hour ago… the media had picked up on the travesty of a fight that happened earlier that day. Causing a nasty uproar from civilians and the media alike.

It was everywhere, newspapers, radio stations, the internet and she can hear the newscaster announce it clearly. "Pro Hero Witch is in the Literal Hot Seat today, is she someone we need to keep an eye on? Her power was in full effect keeping a fifteen-story building from crushing her and her battered teammate, FullCharge. Who had beaten the negligent heroin enough to make her heal him, after she did this the building she was supporting fell upon her and 5 other civilian lives, after letting the villain come to know as Dabi escape-'' she turned off the tv sick and tired of hearing of how useless she’s been, the ensuing argument she had with her family left scars on her psyche she wouldn't bat an eyelash at, she couldn't care about her reputation when she let people die on her watch. 

Useless. Lazy. A joke. 

She let those 5 civilians die so callously, she didn't know them and yet she doesn't feel as bad, atleast not right now. Casualties are a norm for heros, right?

The icing on the cake was to hear the media call her that word negatively again. 

Witch… 

A name she used to take her power back from a horrible nickname in her childhood. Now once again weighing on her like chains to the floor.

 She walked to bed holding the phone and lamenting, falling to her bed with a resounding flop.. It's her fault.. she let Dabi go, and everyone saw it.

 She let everyone down and even had her phone blown up by her friends. She turned her attention to the group chat and took a peek from behind the iron curtain of guilt. Bakugou's name was the first to catch her eye.

Bakugou: Chili. Hey dumbass answer us! We have been trying to call you all day and you leave us on read. Answer us goddammit! We don't want to confront you ourselves and see what your deal is but we will if you don't answer us for the rest of the night.

Midoriya: We will give you another 30 and we're coming over, we promise we're not going to gang up on you, Chili…That wouldn't be right. 

Chiaki: How can i trust that, you all saw my situation, no one did a damn thing to help me, i get im also the healer but that includes people defending me in order to heal at a distance or else I HAVE THE TARGET on me. I cant face any of you. 

Bakugou, Izuku, Shouto and more are typing…

She wept rubbing her eyes with her sleeve and making her tear up. Out of everyone… she assumed someone would understand but they all seemed to give her the same look, it made her heart stop. Once again she's the bad guy in a situation she lost control over. With guilt in her heart, she recalled the last moments before he got away. 

Dabi got her father off of her. No hesitation, blasted him clean off of her with enough force it could have singed her head to toe, but he didn’t. She went to get up and saw her father immolated in blue flames as she turned to see the same man she was sent to apprehend was standing fixed about 10 feet from her, his eyes trained solid on her. She looks up at the buildinh started to grown from the integrity being lost from the fight, it began to collapse down on them until she suspended it above the both of them, mere feet from his head; they stared at one another like deer in headlights. A sinister smirk spread across his features before disappearing from her view, in the kick up of dirt and rubble, 

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself to apprehend him. 

Why..? Did he see the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she barely had a leg to stand on when her own father took her down a size, when he saw insubordination over saving herself and not her father who was completely fine? Or was there another ulterior motive to keeping her alive?

Upon trying to close her eyes, and hopefully forget about this whole day.  

The burner phone buzzed to life. 

The screen could have been the brightest thing in the room, a beacon in the night beckoning her. Distant thunder rumbled to indicate the dire decision she's made, as well as a storm that was approaching.

 Her heart stopped, she lifted the phone slightly and slid her thumb over the screen. To see the text message from an unavailable number. 

“How is that eye feeling, Witch?” 

The text read, her fingers flew across the keyboard. 

“It’s been better, I fixed it up. Is this really Dabi?” upon sending the message the text came up as read. Is she really thinking of doing this… he messaged her back quickly. “Maybe I am, I have seen the news today and that shot of you and I standing before the building collapsed on us was cinematic so I have to give you props for that. I’m guessing the reason you wanted to speak to me was not make pleasantries and talk about our days.” 

“You want to join the League.” 

There it is. The question that lain heavily upon her mind. Shed never considered it as much as she has recently. The ridicule of her graduating class, her power seen as something not all heroes should use for good. She proved time and time again how she is not something to worry about.. But here she was.. Being abused and taken advantage of by the people she cared for. 

“Yes. I do.” She sent it with no hesitation and sat up in her bed looking down upon the phone, he made quick work of messaging her back, again. 

“We havent recruited anyone worth our time in a while. From what I saw recently as well as today. We were considering reaching out to you..but this works much better. Meet tonight?” Her golden eyes widened and her mouth popped open out of sheer shock. “Around what time? Ill be there” She stands up, with a loud crack of lightning the rain poured outside, she cursed and saw a location pop up on her phone.

An old and run down apartment complex outside of city limits. “Now. Get going. Text me when you're close.” Chiaki sprung out of bed without a second thought. Redressing herself in simple attire, something to not be seen on the streets so easily especially at night. Black leggings, worn in combat boots her mother gave her, a large black hoodie and that burner phone.

 While tying her hair up in a bun she saw her phone, the one with her best friends messaging her… and Midoriya’s name front and center..

Izuku: “Hey, cmon, Chili. We know you’re there.. We saw what happened and we want to know if your alright…We can see you reading our messages”

Izuku: What happened with your dad wasn't right but something doesn't add up from that fight, Chili.”

Bakugou: “It makes just as little sense to me too dumbass! Why did he spare you and go for FullCharge.”

Bakugou: “You better not have done something youll regret dumbass we cant lose you!”

Kiri: “I already have Shouto were on our way to talk to you, Spooky, were not mad..”

Her heart stopped in her throat as she started typing to them. She could see them all stop typing in unison. 

“Theres nothing to talk about. You all have made up your mind about me..i can see it. I sound like im just a problem to all of you. Consider me gone.” Chiaki tossed her old phone to the bed and scrawled a note. 

“I loved you all.. I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be.”

With one message her phone began to blow up. Without looking back, she was gone. Hopping from her window to the road below with a splash into a puddle and starting her jog, leaving the only home she's known her whole damn life, as well as leaving her hero life behind her.

About a solid 30 minutes later she noticed she saw the buildings become more and more dilapidated marked with graffiti as sirens shrieked down streets and seedy characters crept behind alleyways, the city limits were within a mile away, and so was the old apartment building. 

Impatient and eager to meet him face to face, she messaged him.. "About a block or two away." she pulled her hood up as she exited a mini markets awning that was closed, rain started to shower down upon her, her light hair hidden beneath the oversized hood, the old marquis sign coming into sight. 

The phone vibrated in her pocket, Chiaki pulled it out and the words shone bright across her face. “You better not be some spy.. I won’t be too happy. So in your best interest, i'd be 100% transparent with me.”  She texts back quickly. “I am an open book and got little to hide.”

The text was read and the old marquis was above her, “No turning back now… the guys will be looking for me in no time.” She said to herself and entered the lobby of the closed apartment building, through the heavy wooden doors. It looked like it used to be grand but now it was so in disrepair that the wallpaper was torn back from walls and holes were created from years of neglect. 

Chiaki pulled her hood back and looked around, listening to the silence of the apartment, she took a breath and emanated a glow from her hands, her fingers and thumb lit up like bright green glow sticks.

From behind a darkened figure glided his scarred palm across the tattered wall approaching her slowly, he speaks up, cutting the silence and startling her. "Ah..There you are, you certainly didn't waste your time, Witch" she gasped and whipped around to see him, Dabi. She let out a nervous laugh and took a step forward, if she were not in this situation she wouldn't hesitate to take him down but this instance she felt on equal ground to him so she felt no threat.

 "I don’t dodge opportunities, especially ones like this, I would have contacted someone sooner but I wanted a reason to do this.. And you seemed like someone I wanted to contact first hand." Dabi approaches her until he is within mere feet of Chiaki, his feet shuffling with each stride, he's easily taller than her by more than a couple inches, being 5”2’ is sometimes a hindrance.

He blows air out of his nose with a laugh. “You were in luck then.. I had my eye on you for a while and finding intel for you was far more complicated than we expected. Chiaki Nakamura is it?”  one hand stuffed into his pants pocket and the other out to gesture towards her, his scarred hand fanned out, talking with his hands was natural for him to do it seems. His cyan blue eyes raking down her front and back to her eyes. Unblinking and just as dark and spellbinding as before, all the while being intensely overwhelming in every aspect physical. Chiaki’s heart bounced in her chest to her throat. 

His head lulls to the side.

 "Thats my name..” The young pro speaks softly, Dabi noticed the apprehension in her voice,"Oh are you nervous little Witch..?"  he didn't need her scurrying off or anything so he took to sauntering slowly around her, sizing her up like a hungry shark. She didn’t speak but caught his eyes through his black hair that curtained his eyes. “Just a bit but if i were any more scared i wouldn’t be here..” He looked upon her glowing green hands, it made her mildly conscious of the fact that they were shaking.

“Then my reputation precedes me even to fresh faces like you.” He says with a hoarse chuckle, he backs up with his arms spread open, she catches a glimpse of his long scarred arms, they flopped back down to his sides, She laughs gently in turn, her eyes fixed on his face, being this close she could see the gold sheen to the staples on his mouth and under his eyes. 

“If that nervous behavior is because you’re scared and having second thoughts about this.. And want to go back to playing around as a hero, i won't hesitate to fry you where you stand, but i'm hoping you're using that common sense of yours so i don't have to.” She listens intently, unwavering and dimming her hands back down, as to not allow her quirk to radiate outside the building.. Dabi’s mouth doesn’t even move beyond a normal straight line but his eyes say everything: He doesn’t see her as a stranger.. Despite this being their first time meeting amicably.

 “rest assured i won’t hurt you, from what I have seen already we need someone with a quirk like yours around, but when it comes to me bringing you back to the bar.. They won’t allow you in unless I check you for a wire, lift your arms.” He instructs and she lifts her arms just enough for him.

 His hands starting to traverse her arms and waist make her face swell with heat, a much more embarrassing position to be in… He was thorough and rough with the patdown, his face remained the same unchanging and stoic, her eyes trained on his face and the rough scars that covered the bottom portion of his face to the part directly under his tear ducts. Besides that he doesn't look bad.. The scars only add that intense look to him, the reason why people were scared of his looks. 

“I wanted to know something..” She caught his attention with a low hum, his brow raising and his lips curling upward. “What was the deal with you getting my father off of me..why didnt you attack me.” His hands finished patting down her body and he tuts her pulling the burner phone from her pocket.

 “You see.. That moment was televised and the moments leading up were not, and if they were, they didn't televise your abuse period or the reason behind it. It was pretty tragic, I heard your father's harsh words.. even more brutal pounding id say, he blocked all of your defences, your little friends didn't come for your rescue, they stood around." She stood stock still listening to him,

"Our Pro Hero lil Witch being ‘saved’ by me when i had enough of seeing someone who is more useful then her partners let on, being beaten to a pulp, and then when things seemed to be working in your favor and the fabled heroes would have gotten me, you in turn...stopped an entire highrise building from squishing me to death.” He leans forward and drops his voice an octave, dipping into a form of seductive and joking. 

“Kinda humiliating isn’t it? Being saved by a well known villain isn't really what the public wants to see.." he shrugs and steps back looks down at his palm, his long fingers moving around trying to catch her attention like he could light a flame at any moment,  with the other hand in his pocket. "I saw someone who needed help in more ways than one.” Her eyes widened as he stuffed the phone into his pocket “I saw someone who I had my eye on for a while being beaten for not doing something as useful as aiding her teammate… and for her own safety right?” He questions as he leans back against the wall adjacent to her.

 “Yeah.. that's right.. How do you know all that? I mean like, not alot of people know that about my quirk, i cant heal at a distance and provide backup unless i have backup...” He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Exactly my point. Your dear old dad didn't take his much more volatile daughter into account and only used you as a support to him, fueling his ego and making you look bad to the rest of the world.” his demeanor was so foreign to her, he spoke so eloquently and with conviction, a sadistic and perverse form of understanding that drew her in like a super magnet.

 She stood blanched, thunderstruck by how he's describing the situation to her, It's like he's in her head reading every emotion as plain on her face. “Yes. He never took me seriously… as a hero.. No one really ever did.” Dabi's eyes softened as their eyes remained locked in a stare of...mutual understanding on his part… she knew little of his past or who he was, but the weight of not being good enough or a lost cause caused his fists to clench.. he not dare ask anything personal yet.. he has a job to do and earn her trust and read her and her situation like a book. Foreshadowing the type of person she was made to be over years of unfair treatment and situations outside of their control.

 “Getting closer.. Go on, Witch.” She swallowed air and kept spilling her guts..  “I use my quirk to even help anyone or… do something for the good of others and its never highlighted in the slightest, no job well done or whatever. No sort of fanfare or recognition, i come home and.. get judged and told I'm not as good as… as him, from him.” SHe clasps her hands together and opens them up again, Dabi’s eyes watching the little light show from her fingertips and then fade away again. The more his eyes looked to her hands the more he wanted to see the beautiful little auras again, it was then Dabi realized her quirk is easy to be triggered, or atleast constantly active. “But when… i do one thing thats out of character for a… normal pro hero… all eyes are on you..and I was treated like a...pariah” 

Dabi nods his head and his smooth voice lulled her ears “Understand now? They only want you when you're useful to them, you're treated as backup, but in the right hands you could be so much more..” Her head hung low, like she just discovered it, that despite her power and the fact shes equally as dangerous maybe even more so she's treated as lesser than everyone else. 

Dabi mentally kicked himself, making such a pretty face sulk and look dour, he couldn't just stand there and allow her to beat herself up over how others treat her. Dabi took a step forward to her and found himself raising his hand to her chin and made her look right up at him, her chin betwixt the pads of his forefinger and thumb. “Come on now… don't be so down on yourself, they might see you as only an asset and a tool to use and expand upon themselves, as nothing more then a battery that never quits, but with us, you can reach a version of yourself you have never seen before.. And we can help you with that. We will make sure you surpass your expectations'' She caught herself staring. 

Eyes glazed over in tears that threatened to fall, and with a blink they were gone. “Excuse my ignorance but… you're serious like you can do that?” She asked with trepidation and abit of excitement that she had to cage off to not seem too eager. 

“It's not a promise, Nakamura. Its a fact that is going to be a reality. Now..” He turned on his heel and gave them some distance in the lobby, he was almost shrouded in darkness. “Give me a demonstration on what you can do.” He instructs. 

Chiaki blinks and becomes blanched. A demonstration. In here? She clasps her hands together and pulls them apart that green glow emanating from her hands to her elbows, pretty gold and green eyes enveloped in pure green with irises, her hands splayed out fingers slowly dancing and expanding outward, like licks of fire.

 “Brace yourself.” She curled in her fingers to drain the energy from surrounding lights and power, making the environment for everyone else but her heavy and sluggish. Dabi had a bead of sweat roll down his face and a headache grow slowly. “And just as it was pulled away I can give it back on my own terms.” She points a manicured finger at Dabi. The headache vanishes without a trace and his energy restored , almost knocking him on his ass from the dizzying feeling of having the wind knocked into you.

 The lights and the power entirely shut down for a full block and the bulbs bust outside. She holds a ball of concentrated energy in her palm and absorbs it into her skin, a content smile spreading across her delicate features and bowing forward and standing back up straight.

 “Oh yeah, they're going to thank me for insisting you be our new recruit... Warn me before you use your quirk on me again, will you?” She snorts and cocks a brow up at him. “So.. do it again later and knock you on your ass?” Chiaki giggled, Dabi quizzically tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if he's breaking down her words in his head, he flipped his black hair from his face as chuckles amused.

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, sarcastic little thing. ” she blushes and covers her mouth embarrassed. “I think it would be smart if we left.. I don't know if my friends are out looking for me or not..and honestly i would rather not face them head on yet.. And i don't want you to be hurt.” Chiaki looks back at him and blushes not realizing how worried she was for his safety, "What already thinking of me? Don't get so soft on me now, Nakamura.." Dabi chuckles and his hands return to his pockets and with a half turn he nods his head in the opposite direction of her, signalling her to follow him towards the exit of the building, he stops before the door. 

"Wait..you mean those UA kids..? trust me, Nakamura.. they arent your friends.. i don't need to know what you went through today after our little scene, you know as well as i that they're already plotting against you from what you did.." his words rang true along with his velveteen voice, the tall and slender Villain seemed to know more than he let on.

Chiaki became quiet and more confident with her decision. She made this choice, and she really didn't regret a damn thing. "And that very thing you have done today, Chiaki.." he slammed his hand into the wall, anchored his hand beside her head, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Lightning cracked outside illuminating the scars that adorned his features.

  The trench coat splaying open and just a bit of his shirt collar dipping down to reveal the purple scar stretches to his chest, gold tint staples fixed secure into what skin he had left to him that remained unscarred.

 Her eyes wandered from his chest back to his brilliant blue eyes. "Made me realize that you were worth contacting. Trust me, Nakamura.. we will bring out the best in you, UA would have easily tainted your view on the world and how ‘justice’ is delivered; but it seems like you know the world for what it really is." he gave her cheek a pat and a pinch, his gaze remained on her and a sickly grin twisted on his features when he notices her eyes wandering to the purple skin and his pronounced collar dipping further down his chest.. His hand engulfed her chin, capturing it and making her look him in the eyes. 

"Yknow, staring at people in the League will getcha in trouble or hurt, Not me though.. just don't get too used to it, anyone who stares  that long at me i consider mice…but honestly i don't see you scurrying off anytime soon." He backs off when she blushes brighter and gives him a shove. 

"Ah quit! Its kinda hard to not stare if you haven't noticed, Dabi." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone facing the heavy door, when he received a reply he put it back into his pocket, and sighed opening the heavy metal door with a creak, rain poured down into the street as he spoke up so she could hear him. "its what we ugly folk are used to i'm afraid." Chiaki merely scoffs and pulls back up the hood and opened her palm flat and above his and her head together she created a translucent green umbrella like barrier protecting them from the downpour,  "Ugly is abit of a stretch, Dabi..." she mutters and follows him into the alley where the rain continued ro shower down bouncing off the barrier, a singular street lamp illuminating the barren street leaving the only city she had ever known, Dabi replayed that phrase in his head and he momentarily closed his eyes.

 Its been years since he got compliments.. it was strange but not unwelcome. "Ohhhh little mouse, your gonna get along very well with me.. stick by my side and everyone will like you… eventually.. Your about to meet one of them anyway." As he said this casually as the street became a black and purple haze, a portal opened up and swirled as a literal exit from the city.. to wherever the hell she was going next. 

Chiaki gasped and took an apprehensive step forward.

 "Scared?" Dabi asked, with a little smirk on his lips. "Just a bit…" Dabi extended his hand for her, inviting her with him "Cmon. Trust me. Trust a burnt man with nothing to lose." He chides playfully. Chiaki accepts his invitation, his hand warm and textured with the staples.. Dabis heart skipped a beat at the contact.

 Soft and small hands engulfed by his own as he guided her through the portal, stunning blue eyes never deviating from her gold and green ones.. like they were captivated by one another.. before she knew it, she was in a completely different location. She blinked and looked around, thunderstruck almost by the environment.

A bar that reeked of booze and smoke of different varieties. "Welcome home, for now." He says in a flat tone, she pulled off her hood and looked around.

 Dabi still had his back to her and looked at his palm for a moment that felt like an eternity, the ghost of her hand remaining in his own, strange emotions bubbled up from nowhere, he shoved them back down and spoke up. 

"Everyone seems to be out by now, usually the bar is never empty. The person who summoned that portal is here...Kurogiri, which means our leader Shigaraki is here. He’ll meet you at some point..when he's not on his damn video games." he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and shook his wet hair out. Turning to look down at her, "Nice place...you guys bounce from place to place often?" She asks in what felt like a shy whisper, the resounding echo from the hall made her feel like she was shouting. 

"Haven't in a while.. hoping we won't have too again. Wont say where because it doesn't matter. Anyway, wanna come up to my room? There's an old couch up there you can crash on. Unless you want my bed, heh.. Wouldn't mind you in bed with me.” He breathily chuckles and pinches her chin starting to lead the way, “Don't get any ideas! I'm just tired.. I haven't had any sleep and its like.. Almost 2:30 in the morning.” She yawned and dragged her feet behind him.

Chiaki follows him up the stairs and down the long corridor to the last door on the left, he opened it to find a bedroom with a king sized mattress pushed to the wall and the windows covered in blackout curtains, an old couch directly under it and  a flat screen across the room as well as his own computer and cans of empty energy drinks by it, as well as an ashtray that looked like it was used normally. 

“This room is mine, go ‘head.” He invites her in, noting the tired look on her face, he found it almost innocent if it weren't for the remnants of blush still ghosted on the apples of her cheeks.

Dabi had booted the door closed behind him as she kicked off her boots, he spoke up again, watching her movements, as they seemed to have gotten lazier. “Not much of an interior decorator but it works for me, sprucing the room up would be too much effort.” 

Making himself comfortable he sheds the trench coat and shuffles through a cabinet in the desk where his computer is located,”I'm getting pretty tired and by the looks of it you are too, so im afraid im gonna have to restrain you. Cmere.” He says, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that catches Chiaki’s attention, her brow instantly rising in confusion and a hint of worry. Dabis eyes flicker up to her when she whips around at the chain jingling as he approaches her, twirling the cuffs around his finger 

 “W-wait why do you need to restrain me?” She asks a little wary, “Its so you dont pull anything while I'm sleeping… can't be too careful, little mouse.” He states clasping the cuffs around her wrists in the front, they clicked almost to the point where he could get two fingers under them. Chiaki looked at him with big innocent eyes and then down to the cuffs on her wrists. “Tsk..you do this to all the new recruits or am i just that special.” He chuckles and turns his back to her. “You’re a first, to both be cuffed and able to sleep in my bed. Consider yourself ‘special’”

She looks back up to find Dabi stripping his white shirt off and tossing it to the couch, a blush forming on her face and a pang in her heart as she looks at him closely, hes much better looking up close… fit and lean, along with the added look of his scars that dressed his torso into his pants only made him 2 times more appealing and more her type. “Holy shit..” She says out loud with her jaw slacked abit. “Checking me out, little mouse? Remember what I said about staring.” He chuckled and laid back in bed exhausted, pulling the sheets up her body comfortably. “Sorry was just admiring the view, Dabi.” She teased rolling her eyes and settling into bed, Dabi’s eyes widened briefly and felt that sweet warm feeling creeping up his chest again, this time he let it simmer there.

“im going to sleep.. Too tired to think, that energy drink i had acouple hours ago finally wore off." Chiaki yawned and stretched, facing away from him to ease the situation, that situation being she wanted to face him and find comfort from him. 

A sort of comfort she longed for for years, acceptance and safety.. Funny she found safety with a villain.. With villains alike. This caused her to giggle to herself, he raises a brow and looked over to her with his arms tucked behind his head 

Instead as Dabi turned off the light and the distant thunder rolled she spoke up “Dabi..” “Hm?” She turned back over and some light from the opened part of the black out curtains illuminated her eyes, Dabi once again caught himself peering into them wistfully finding himself looking her over. 

 A genuine glow in her eye, appreciation and a connection the two have never felt before, “Thank you, for bringing me in.. you wont regret it,” She brings her bound hands up to pull the pillow further up under her head, and licked her lips, swallowing her fear and letting a wall down, even just alittle bit to him. Dabi mused and observed her closely, finally seeing the opposite end of what its like to have someone in need go to him of all people. “i haven't felt anything beyond disappointment for a long long time, so to say i feel comfortable with someone i was fighting not even a day ago says anything, i hope you understand and i'm not stepping over any boundaries.” He grinned, and responded with an amused chuckle. “Getting soft on me again, better not make that a habit with anyone else here, I just might get jealous.” Dabi grazed his finger against her cheek, she leaned against his hand and smiled angelically.

“I'm starting to like that fire in your eye. ” He ghosts his knuckles down her cheek as her eyes closed slowly, blinking exausted as the cold air kicked on from the ac unit above them, she shivered and threw all caution to the wind, Dabi stiffened as she moved closer to his end of the bed, she ducked her head abit beneath the blanket to snuggle against his warm chest, his heart hammered with nerves he still couldnt place a name too, the same hand that stroked her cheek rested on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the sweatshirts fabric. 

Comforting and confusing thoughts swirled through the villains mind as he soon came to realize he remained awake for all but another 20 minutes, the soft rise and fall of her chest and side indicated she had long fallen asleep in his arms. 

Dabi rested his chin against her head and attempted to find the sleep he had long since forgotten in his past life. Acceptance and comfort from someone. 

He sighed and whispered in a husky tone of voice.

“Glad we had that talk, Little Mouse…”

XXX~

Hey yall its my first MHA fic. You might see more of her and Dabi in the future cuz honestly this was fun!

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Just Guilty Pleasure

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Heyyyy everyone, I know it has literally been forever since i’ve updated so thank you for sticking with me! I really appreciate you all checking in on me, honestly I have been a little down in the dumps because of some personal things going and also busier than all hell because of school, work, social life, working out, etc. But I finally got it done and i’m not going to lie but it’s all mostly porn with no plot so I hope you all enjoy! Also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DM me if I have missed your tag! I feel like I am missing some people in my tag reblogs.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, clothing kink??? idk its really just sex, not proof read

Word Count: 3.6k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Your brain felt like a puddle of mush the following few days. It seemed as though your body and brain could not stop thinking about Roger.

How he touched you.

How he smelled like cigarettes and expensive cologne.

The noises he made as he fucked you against the shower wall.

You know, the usual stuff.

You were beginning to think you would be driven to the mad house if it wasn’t for Veronica shyly calling you up and asking you to accompany her shopping today. You hadn’t really talked to her since your last excursion out with Freddie and the boys and to be frank, it was nice to be in the company of a woman for a change.

You met Veronica down town in the food court of the mall; when you caught sight of her she excitedly waved at you.

“So, are you looking for anything special?” You winced as you sounded like a store employee while trying to hold a basic conversation.

Veronica’s face broke into a grin, “Well John and I are celebrating our one year and I didn’t know what to get him.” You could tell by the little sparkle in her eyes that she was in love “Freddie is nice, but we have,” she paused to think of the correct words, “Conflicting opinions on what to get John.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, Freddie always did have a penchant for lavish things. You pursed your lips, “Well what does John like?” You truly didn’t know him well enough to think of something right off the bat.

Veronica pursed her lips in thought as the two of you continued walking. She rattled off a few generic things which didn’t help spark ideas for either of you, “He’s just always so picky.” She mumbled.

As the two of you walked past window after window of shops, a flash of delicate lace caught your eyes and you paused your steps, “What if you bought some lingerie?” You asked. Veronica’s face flushed and you gave her a playful nudge “Come on, everyone likes a little lingerie; it’s practically the gift that keeps on giving.” You joked.

She let out a playful giggle and the two of you walked into the lingerie store, you began to look through the clothing racks and at displays with Veronica in tow “What colors does john like?” You asked looking at her from the corner of your eye.

Veronica pursed her lips, “I don’t know, I havent really ever worn lingerie for john before.”

“Well does he have a favorite dress or outfit that you wear? We can go based off that.” You suggested.

Veronica looked as though an idea sparked in her mind and she began to scroll through her phone, presumably to look at pictures. She turned to you and showed you two images, one was of her and John very drunk at the club; she was dressed in a tight leopard print dress, and the second was of her and John together, a casual selfie; this time she was in a simple blue sweater. Blue and leopard print. At least now you had something to work with.

In all honesty you didn’t peg John for a leopard print kind of a guy, but here you were. Veronica proved to be more picky than you expected, but you would understand why. A one year anniversary was a big deal in relationships. 365 days is a long time to spend with some one.

After much searching you and Veronica settled on several different styles and outfits that she was going to try on. While you waited you browsed the selection, maybe you too would go home with some new lingerie.

You knew that you would when you’re eyes fell upon a school uniform. It consisted of a mesh top that was cropped just below the mannequins breasts and had a little peep hole cut out in the middle and a cute little bow on the neck. The skirt (if you could even call it that) was the iconic red plaid and had matching suspenders attached to it. To top it all off, it came with a pair of crotchless panties that matched the top. You decided that you had to buy it. It would be a nice little treat for yourself; you hadn’t bought new lingerie since you first went out to stock up.

You quickly fished for your size and grabbed all the pieces to it as you heard Veronica calling you from the dressing room. She poked her head out “Wanna see?” She asked with an excited grin. You eagerly nodded and waited for her to step out.

The lingerie she had picked out was simple, yet sexy. It was a leopard print silk night gown that was adorn with black lace on the edges. “I love it!” You grinned, unable to hold back the excited and girlish giggle that slipped out.

———

After you jokingly told Veronica to let you know how her little surprise for John went, the two of you parted ways and you made it home before Roger did. You hurriedly ran into your room and eagerly dumped out the contents of the bag.

You spread out your new lingerie set on your bed and tapped your chin, “I have to try it on.” You mumbled to yourself and quickly stripped down and replaced your casual day ware with something a little more risqué.

You couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror once you were fully dressed. You shifted, twisting and turning at various angles to get a full glimpse of yourself in the mirror, taking in every inch of your body.

“Jesus Christ,”

You turned to see Roger standing in your doorway. If it was possible, his jaw would have touched the ground. Your face flushed and you quickly let out a small squeak of shock and threw your hands on your chest.

Roger looked at you and licked his lower lip and shook his head before dropping his bags in the hall way and coming chest to chest with you, “Are we going to fuck right now? Because if we aren’t, please for the love of god change.” He practically begged you. His hands rested on your fore arms and he added pressure to them, allowing you to decide if you would lower them and expose your breasts beneath the white mesh fabric

You felt heat pooling between your legs and you slowly lowered your arms. Your nipples were already beginning to harden from the cool air in your room but seeing that look in Roger’s eye did something to you. You traced your finger on the his skin, outlining what wasn’t hidden by his button down and causing goosebumps to rise in the wake of your fingertips. Your fingers trailed up to Roger’s plump lower lip which was still hanging ajar. You lightly traced your fingers along its natural curve, “I think I’ve been a bad girl Mr. Taylor.” You whispered sensually.

Roger’s bright blue eyes immediately darkened and he closed his mouth, clenching his jaw tightly, “Have you now?” He asked, peering down at you through his long lashes. You gave him a pouty look, nodding your head. Roger groaned, bringing his hands to your hips and pulling you flush against him.

You could already feel his half hard erection poking at your bare thigh, “On your knees.” He commanded, suddenly stepping back and allowing a wave of cold air to bite your hot skin.

You obediently followed his commanding voice and sunk to your knees. Automatically your hands went up to his belt and tugged on it. He tutted at you, swatting your hands a way “Where are your manners, [Y/N].” He said, lightly cupping your face in his hands and craning to meet your gaze, “Ask permission first.” He frowned, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to pucker.

You winced as your teeth bit into the skin of your cheek, but didn’t ignore the shiver that crept down your spine and to the tips of your toes. “Can I please suck you off, Rog?” You whimpered as his grip tightened, “Mr. Taylor” you quickly corrected and sighed when he relaxed his hand.

Roger’s thumb slipped into your mouth where you greedily sucked on it and rubbed your tongue along the calloused pad of his finger tip. Roger pulled it out and nodded his head, “Yes,” He answered breathlessly. Your hands quickly flew up and began to unbuckle his belt and pants, “Say thank you,”

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” You answered, your lips still puckered together by his hand.

You slid his jeans and underwear down his legs, thankful that for once he decided to wear loose fitting pants. His half hard length slipped out and you lunged for it, letting out the most pitiful noise when Roger pulled his hips away from you.  

He squeezed the sides of your mouth once more and you took the hint, opening wide for him and sticking your tongue out. He gripped his length in his free hand and slapped against your wet tongue. The lewd smacking sounds filling the air and its heat heavy against your tongue before he slipped it into your mouth.

Graciously he let go of your cheeks and allowed you to work him. You swirled your tongue around the tip and moaned at the taste of him as he filled and stretched your mouth deliciously. Your head bobbed up and down in tandem with his hand, getting him now fully erect.

Experimentally Roger grabbed the sides of your head, burying his hands in fistfuls of your hair and slowly pushed you down. You moaned, telling him you enjoyed his actions and allowed him to use more force. He pushed you down as far a you could go before he felt your throat spasming around his length. You gagged and quickly pulled back, coughing and attempting to catch your breath.

Roger’s face was flushed with arousal and he swallowed thickly, “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” He said and you nodded you head in agreement, “Tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, okay?” He asked, his expression softening for a moment when you repeated back to him your non verbal safe word.

After getting repositioned, your hands gripped Roger’s hips as he filled your mouth and held the sides of your head once again. His hips experimentally moved against you, his length sliding against your tongue while you remained kneeling.

You let out a small whimper as he dug his fingers into your scalp and began to grip your hair harder. The vibrations shot through him and his hips bucked sharply against your mouth as he began to pick up the pace.

Each of his thrusts was met with the sound of you gurgling and gagging on his dick as it sharply pounded against your throat. Saliva began to pool in the corners of your mouth and dribble down the sides of your cheeks and chin leaving your skin shiny.

You hummed against him, content with being used.

Roger peered down at you, his mouth hanging open, eyebrows knit tightly together, and cheeks dusted red. His thighs clenched and he twitched in your mouth when you met his gaze. Tears freely spilled from your eyes and mixed with your mascara, causing grey lines to streak your face and become smeared against his palm. He pulled out from your mouth abruptly after almost having lost himself.

You gasped as your lungs filled with air and coughed lightly while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Roger quickly pulled you up by your arms and pressed a hot opened mouth kiss against your lips. Your teeth clanked together and the two of you desperately clung to each other. Roger’s back fell against the wall and he pulled your thigh up to rest on the side of his waist. He ground against you, letting out a shuttering and helpless moan when he felt your unclothed core grinding back at him.

Roger pulled away “Bed, now.” He said roughly turning you and pushing you in the direction of your bed. You gasped and involuntarily fell forward, catching yourself as your hands collided with the mattress.

Roger let out an audible groan as the split in your panties became very visible to him, your soaking core and bum peeking out through the slit in the lacy fabric. He pushed your skirt back and exposed your bottom half fully. Softly, he rubbed the roundness of your bum and kneaded fistfuls of the plush skin in his hand, “You need to warn a guy the next time you wear these.” He mumbled, watching as his finger slipped between the delicate fabric and disappear between your folds, “You’re fucking soaked,” He huffed, pumping his fingers easily in and out of your tight core. Your back arched and you pushed against him, needy for his touch, “You like being used don’t you?” He smirked deviantly.

You gasped, feeling his fingers curl inside you, “Yes, fuck I love it.” You let the sinful confession slip out of your swollen and abused lips.

Roger slipped the skirt off your hips and finished stripping himself down before he turned you over. His chest heaved as he looked at you. He’d barely even touched you and you were practically writhing for him on the mattress. Roger tapped the back of your thighs, “Come on, love, sit up for me.” He said softly kneeling on the bed and offering you a hand.

You felt a strange twinge in your stomach at his endearing tone and sat up. Roger helped you out of your mesh top, groping your breasts as they spilled from it. He leaned over and briefly took them in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the pebbled buds before he moved and sat at the top of your bed.

Roger held his arms open and beckoned you to sit in his lap. So clad only in your panties you crawled over to him and took your seat. Roger’s nose touched yours and his breath softly blew against your face. The smell of cigarettes and spearmint gum causing you to feel dizzy from the familiarity of it. His lips barely brushed over yours. You could feel the warmth of his skin radiating off and were pretty sure he could feel your heart threatening to beat out from your chest.

Roger captured your mouth in a much softer kiss. Grabbing the back of your head and keeping you close against him. Your mouths moved in tandem and familiar motions together; you whimpered feeling him moving his hands to your hips. He beckoned you to lift your hips and helped position you over his length, trying to break the contact with your mouth as little as humanly possible.

Roger hissed as he felt the smooth and delicate fabric of your lace panties brush against his cock as he slid into you. You sank down and wrapped your legs around his waist and he held you close with one arm crawling up your back and the other helping to guide your hips.

“Roger” You whined, burying your face into his neck and sighing as you felt him slipping in and out of you. The feeling of him filling you up and rubbing against your walls caused each and every one of your nerve endings to stand on end and his touches ignited a path of flames in their wake. You gasped and arched into his chest while Roger held you impossibly close.

He broke away from your mouth and trailed a peppered kisses along your cheeks and kitten licks down your jaw until he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the hot sweaty skin. He sucked on it until there was a deeply colored mark tainting your perfect skin; he let out a little whimper as he ran his tongue over it to soothe the tenderness that had built up.

Roger held your tightly against his chest, so tightly that your back began to arch uncomfortably. You were too distracted to notice the muscles cramping along your spine, “You take me so well baby,” Roger huffed in your ear, the hot breath moving your stray hairs and causing them to tickle your skin.

Your breaths got hotter and whinier and your nails raked down his shoulders “You like it when I fuck you like this, love?” Roger asked pulling your hips down harder and meeting you with his own thrusts.

Your mouth hung open and you gripped your breasts, pushing and kneading them together and pinching your nipples for added stimulation, “Fuck yes,” you gasped out in response.

Roger watched you bouncing on top of his lap, your breasts squished together, and your skin slick with sweat. His brows knit together as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm and his hand buried itself between your leg, skillfully rubbing rough circles around your swollen clit. You leaned against Roger and buried your face into his long, now damp hair and gripped tightly onto his forearms as he quickly brought you over the edge.

Your walls clenched and pulsated around his cock and he shuttered against you, choking out a whiny groan of his own before he buried himself to the hilt and filled you with his hot seed.

You gasped and your eyes shot open and Roger quickly pulled way. His face was red and his eyes were wide “I’m sorry, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- it-I just-” he sounded panicked as he pulled out of you.

The evidence of your actions began to leak down your thigh as you sat hovering over Roger’s lap, slightly shocked that he came inside you, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” You said softly.

He continued to babble, as he usually did when he was flustered and you gripped the sides of his face, forcing him to focus on you. “Roger, it’s fine I’m not upset we can buy Plan B later today, okay?” You said in a firm tone, hoping to ease his worries.

Roger swallowed thickly and nodded his head, “Yeah, okay,” He was only slightly put at ease by your words, “I’m sorry,” He said once more.

You felt emotions tugging at your heart from his sincere words, you placed a lingering kiss on his lips “It’s fine I promise.” You said and softly smiled at him, “We just have to use a condom next time, okay?”

———

After your whole little Plan B incident, you and Roger were more careful to say the least, but, it didn’t curb the sexual appetite the two of you had developed for each other. It was both good and bad; good because you had no shortage of content for your little side hustle and bad because you found yourself craving Roger. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other and surprisingly enough, Freddie and your mutual friends hadn’t noticed anything.

“Hey, Rog?” You called as you entered the living room. After the two of you had finally finished up painting the walls the room, like you said, had managed to look much brighter and more open; though you could still some how see the outlines of the miss matched shapes Roger painted over the layer you put over them. It added character to the walls, you supposed.

“Yeah?” He answered back, pausing his game and setting his PlayStation controller on the table.

“Some guy sent in a video request.” You said pursing your lips and frowning.

Roger quirked his head at you, “What is it?” He asked getting up and walking towards you.

“A video in public,” Your face flushed at your words.

Roger’s eyes held a devilish glint, the opposite reaction you held, “Public you say?” He teased, “What’s he want us to do?” He pressed obviously getting a rise out of the personalized request.

You shifted, “I don’t know, like do stuff in public; like me giving you head under a table or you fingering me in a movie theater, or-”

“Having sex in a bathroom?” Roger quickly interrupted you.

You frowned, “No, I’m better than bathroom sex, Roger.” You said firmly.

Roger couldn’t help but laugh, “I never said you weren’t,” He quickly added, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder, “It would be hot though, wouldn’t it? All cramped up in a stall, having to be quiet while people came and went?” He tried to sound enticing, but you weren’t having it. He could tell from the expression on your face, “What about the closet after a gig? You haven’t been to one of our shows in a while.” He smirked against the skin on your neck, “I know how hot you get after one of our shows.” He teased.

You shivered, “I don’t know about that, what if Fred or Brian hear?” You looked away bashfully.

“All right then, what do you want to do?” He said, hoping you would make up your mind.

You pursed your lips in thought, “We can do it after one of your shows in the bathroom,” you sighed, secretly trying to suppress your excitement.

Roger grinned at you, “We’ve got that big show in a few days, is that soon enough?”

You nodded your head, before you felt your face heat up more, “Hey, Rog?” You questioned, playing with the hem of your shirt. Roger hummed in response, “Can you wear that white vest?” You asked feeling the head spreading from your face down to the back of your neck.

A grin spread across Roger’s soft features and the sides of his eyes crinkled “With the little tassels on it, right?” He couldn’t hide the amused tone in his voice or the grin that held it’s place when you nodded sheepishly in response

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)

A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(

spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu

words:3350

Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 

Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.

“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.

Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”

“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 

“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.

“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.

You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 

“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.

“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.

“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 

With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.

Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.

“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 

So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 

Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.

Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.

The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.

“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.

The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 

Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 

“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”

People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 

You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  

“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.

“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 

“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.

Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 

Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 

The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.

Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.

About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.

Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 

The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 

The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 

You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.

Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.

You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.

A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 

“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.

“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.

“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 

You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.

As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.

“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”

You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.

“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.

“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”

“Okay.”

All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.

You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.

“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.