#and instead. he finds a little stuffed animal that belonged to me and just breaking down as he clutches it in his hands...

[apologeticaugur]

there was a fun little meme on the dash about posting snippets of ur stories that u feel are... WOW. impactful! meaningful! but out of context. and it had me going through all the things we've written!! because i'm always so excited to do these memes! but instead i started crying because i realized every single one of them had a common underlining theme. and that theme was grief

[reanbowful]

“money money money”

if you come from a prestigious family

(ben, alex, gerard, donald, wolf)

ben park / park humin

He was at a rather more high end area in Seoul, wanting to buy a new coat at this one store Gray had recommended.

While waiting for Gray to arrive, Ben would stroll around the nearby stores just to check things out since he’s already in the city.

When Ben saw you for the first time, he didn’t immediately think like, ‘Oh this person is rich.’ It’s more like, ‘What if this person is rich?’

You were there together with your friend. When you walked out, he was entering the store. As a result, the two of you crashed into each other.

“Ah! Oh my god! I’m so sorry..”

Your friend hurriedly take a handkerchief to wipe your stained uniform, as you did the same.

“I-I can pay for your laundry! If you want..?”

Ben was lowkey kinda nervous since this was a rich people area and all. So if you were another snobby rich brat, you could literally make his life hell with just one phone call.

Instead, all you did was laugh softly. Taking your blazer off before hand it to him.

“If you insist. When you’re done, come and bring it to Apartment X, penthouse unit A. If the security guard asks just say you’re there to see y/n.”

A little stunned, Ben absentmindedly take the drenched blazer into his hand. Your friend looked at you curiously, but went along to leave with you afterwards anyway.

“Hey, y/n. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“It’s fine it’s fine~ Plus, didn’t you see how cute he was?”

“Big Ben. Sorry, I accidentally dropped off the wrong lane. Did you wait for a long time?”

“Hey, Gray. Do you know what kind of school this uniform belongs to?”

Gray blinked at the dark green blazer on Ben’s hand.

“X School? It’s like one of the most expensive school around here, but why do you have it on you?”

“Oh shit.”

“Ben.. what did you do?”

“I think a rich girl might be interested in me.”

alex go / go hyuntak

I have a feeling Alex would be sort of intimidated if he finds out just how wealthy your family is.

The two of you met at a gaming center. You were struggling to get a specific stuffed animal.

“Come on.. please.. AH- YOU FUCKING SCAM!”

When he first saw you, he thought. ‘That’s one cute crazy mf.’

Still, he went and helped you.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it. Here.”

Inserting a coin inside, he pushed you to the side and within a few minutes, you got your doll.

Your starry expression almost made it all worth it.

“Thank you so much! What can I do to repay you?”

“Uh, you don’t need to repay me..”

“I know! Let’s go for a meal! My treat~”

Alex was about to decline when you bolt out of the arcade within seconds.

“Well, it’s free food I guess.”

Here’s the thing. You don’t.. look rich. You were dressed in a simple attire, t-shirt and jeans. And if they each cost more than a thousand dollar, Alex would really have no way of knowing.

So imagine his pleasant surprise when the two of you show up at one of the most bougie-looking hole in the wall restaurant he has ever seen in his entire life.

“O-oi, you sure this is okay? I don’t have the money to pay for the food here, ok?”

“Hah? I told you it was my treat why would you have to pay? Just follow me, this place is really good!”

Until you stepped inside the building, Alex still think that this might be a really really bad joke. But then the head chef himself greeted you.

“Y/N! What brings you here? Oh~ Is he your boyfriend?”

“Hehe, not yet. But anyways, uncle, we’re here to eat! What’s on the menu today?”

As the two of you converse about what type of meat you want for the meal, Alex finds himself breaking in cold sweat.

Rich people really are scary.

gerard jin / jin gayool

Like Alex, I feel like he would also feel intimidated. And probably.. a bit insecure?

He has to hustle to be able to afford treating himself once in a while, meanwhile your weekly allowance could pay for his school fee for the entire year.

When he first began hearing about you, there would be times where he would feel kind of conflicted.

(for the sake of plot let’s say you’re the daughter of a famous musician)

He’s not entirely sure whether it’s envy or something else. This ugly thing bubbling inside him. But seeing just how different your lifestyles are, Gerard can’t help but feel.. off.

In order to really win his heart, you have to prove that your money is not all that there is to you. Which, you did, successfully.

To begin with, you weren’t even snobby or bratty or anything like that. It’s just that Gerard heard about you from a friend of a friend, so your image that got portrayed onto him is just slightlyy 🤏 different from who you are as a person.

A mutual friend of yours and Gerard’s threw a party for their birthday. This would be the time he would actually meet you for real.

“Hi, I’m y/n.”

“Oh, hi.”

Gerard was surprised. You were unexpectedly pleasant to be around. Your experience in doing business gives you the advantage of gauging people. And your broad knowledge in miscellaneous things makes for a flexible and comfortable conversation.

“You’re not like what I thought at all.”

“Yeah? What kind of a person I am that you thought?”

“I don’t know.. privileged, nepo baby?”

You chuckled at his words.

“I mean they’re not wrong, are they? I’m aware of my privilege, and that I probably have things easier than most other people trying to get into the entertainment industry. But I’m not about to let things like privilege get to my head and make me slack off just because I get a head start.”

Gerard smiled. He supposed that the two of you may have more things in common than he initially thought.

donald na / na baekjin

Honestly. Donald would love it.

He loves connection and money. He would love it if you come from a wealthy family.

With some toxicity, he would also try to make you fall for him to spite your dad if he refuses to do business with him.

“Kingsley. I want you to compile a profile on the senator’s daughter. What her common interests are, where she usually shops, her favourite food, I don’t care. Just make it as detailed as possible.”

After getting your info, Donald will start to frequent places that you usually go to. And in order to get your attention, he would also make seemingly innocuous comments based on the profile he got from Kingsley.

He knows you’re peculiar. But what the hell is this.

“One ice baby yoda please. I’d like to get the custom face cocoa powder as well. And the gingerbread ears too.”

“Wow, mister. You have good taste.”

And you are a psychopath.

Donald smiled, grabbing the childish looking diabetes in a cup. He really didn’t want to drink that.

“Your usual?”

“To the tee. I actually almost got goosebumps when I heard your order.”

As time passes, the two of you began to get closer and closer to each other.

Soon you begin to sneak out of the dorms, going on late night dates, eating convenience store pizzas.

You were like a breath of fresh air in Donald’s ever so serious life. So carefree and full of life, a child-like glow surrounds you. It often reminded him of just how young he still really is.

Your friends tried to warn you about how he was being a bad influence, and your father tells you how he’s ‘worse than trash’. That he will ruin any future you have.

For some reason, though, that didn’t stop you from pursuing your romantic dream partner.

“What, so I just spray these on? Isn’t this vandalism?”

“It might be. But what are they gonna do? Fight you? While I’m here?”

You threw him a cheeky grin and began to spray paint on the concrete walls of the underpass.

Donald knows the reason why you were so lenient with having your name and possibly your whole future get dragged in the mud just from associating with him. You like it. The blood pumping through your veins when you’re doing something so out of your comfort zone. And the sense of security that whatever happens, there will be someone who is willing to take the dirt for you.

You like the freedom. He likes you.

Ah, how he wants to keep you.

(I love Donald’s narrative so much. Feels like a teenage movie.)

wolf keum / keum seongje

I’m gonna be completely honest with you, I don’t think Wolf would care that much about your family’s wealth.

At most, he would be mildly impressed with all the stuff your family could afford. But other than that, he won’t really look at you different or anything.

They didn’t have class by the fourth period that day, everyone was asked to gather at the auditorium to listen to some rich old dudes talk about where else to throw their money away for 2 hours.

Yep. Not Wolf.

He was smoking at the building behind the auditorium by the second floor window when he saw you.

Wolf scoffed. You look so damn out of place.

Your emerald uniform stood out in contrast from Ganghak’s deep red ones.

He recognised the uniform. X Academy, that’s quite prestigious. Not that Ganghak isn’t. The school that he goes to is known to also be pretty expensive. But X Academy is on a whole different level.

Wolf blinked lazily, taking a drag out of his cigarette as he watches you stroll around the pile of dumpster. Occasionally, you would stop and stare at some parts of the building before moving on to continue your stroll.

You were about to head in back into the building when a stray cigarette bud fell right in front of your feet.

“Careful there, rich girl. You don’t wanna get stunned do you.”

You looked up to see a Ganghak boy with purple hair smirking down at you. When you tilt your head confused, he would gesture for you to look down. And only then did you saw it.

A broken extension cord lying seemingly innocuous on the far edge of puddle just one step away from you.

“Not even a ‘thank you’? Damn, I just saved your life, you know.”

“Oh. Yeah, thank you. I didn’t see that. What’s your name?”

Wolf contemplated for a second.

“Wolf.“

“Ah, I see. I’m y/n, it was nice meeting you!”

Wolf frowned. Somehow a bit annoyed when you simply leave right after saying that.

So he took his phone out and called the only reliable person there is in Ganghak.

“Hwangmo, do you know anything about the old farts that came in today?”

[userpoe]

i'll keep the faith for you

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, reader’s in a bad spot emotionally and really anxious, ect.

Summary: you're unusually quiet, so poe goes to check on you

(or read on ao3)

Poe pushes your bedroom door open with his foot, wincing as it groans in protest on the hinges. You’d been unusually quiet today, your eyes dark and missing their usual spark; of course, he was used to you occasionally not having anything to say, but usually that was accompanied by a contemplative air while you pulled together conversation topics to go over with him later when you were ready.

Today, you look so forlorn that it breaks his heart a little each time he glances at you. Your second cup of coffee goes unfinished, and you barely skimmed through your phone for longer than a five minutes before you pushed it away and mumbled that you were going to go lie back down.

That was hours ago, now. The morning stretched on without your presence, lilting into the afternoon. The sunshine crept in through the windows throughout the rest of the apartment, but when Poe steps inside your room, he finds that you’ve drawn your curtains closed and are lying in the darkness.

He can tell you’re not asleep, even if your eyes are closed. Your expression is too pinched, your shoulders too tight for him to believe you’re out cold. So he creeps further into the room, whispering your name gently so you’re not alarmed when he perches on the edge of your mattress. You’ve burritoed yourself into your comforter, holding on to a stuffed animal that one of your friends surprised you with the year prior, your hair messy from tossing and turning.

Poe says your name a second time as he puts his hand where he guesses is a decent approximation of where your shoulder is beneath the blanket, and your eyes finally open. Your expression remains startlingly blank and downcast. “What’s wrong?”

At first you just shrug, playing it off that you don’t know, but then something passes over your face - realizing you don’t have to play it off with him, perhaps - and you scoot back further onto the bed so he has room to lay down too. As soon as he does, you shuffle closer to him, draping one arm across his torso, fingers catching at the fabric of his shirt and playing with it for a moment. You haven’t said anything yet, but Poe can practically hear you turning over the thoughts in your head, working out how to articulate them.

And finally, you do find the words. “I miss it,” you whisper, not daring to look up at him. Instead, you burrow your face closer to his chest so Poe can’t see your expression. “My old job, I miss it. It was good, Poe. I was happy to be there, I didn’t even care about the odd hours or the money, I looked forward to going in everyday. I was happy. It was everything I wanted -” your voice catches here, at last, and Poe holds you a little tighter, knowing you’re not necessarily inclined to cry even if you desperately need to, making the noise even more awful - “but they didn’t want me.”

His heart breaks at that and he doesn’t have any words of reassurance to start with because what you said is all true. He’d seen your joy with his own eyes, the way you were still giddy even after a long shift when you got home, how you were anxious every day while training but still thrilled until…

Until you were told that you should probably think about whether or not you would be a good fit there, if the job was right for you, because even while you passed with flying colors at every task you’d been given, excelled at taking initiative and completing your work, you’d struggled at one thing — something you had no control over, something you couldn’t do because of your own body’s limitations.

Poe didn’t have much room in his heart for grudges, but the ones he did keep ran deep. In his mind, there was no forgiving the place that had made you feel so unwelcome after weeks of feeling as though you’d finally found somewhere you belonged, a purpose even.

And ever since you’d told them you wouldn’t be returning, you had been…drifting. Slowly but certainly, your smiles had grown more strained, the sparkle in your eyes were dimming, and you’d been less inclined to spend time with people �� your family, with your friends, even with Poe.

“They were assholes,” Poe says at last, drawing both arms around you to pull you closer. “You would’ve been one of the best people there. You already were, in my book.”

You snort against his chest, muttering something about him being biased that triggers a brief smile from Poe. It fades when you whisper, “It felt so right. I thought I…I thought I’d finally found what I was supposed to do. And I miss them, isn’t that weird? I miss walking in and hearing them tell me good morning, miss weaving around each other and hearing everyone joke about things.”

“It’s not weird,” Poe says. He met your co-workers once when your car broke down and he’d gone up to pick you up to drive you home. They were all fun people to be around, and Poe could have easily seen you hanging out with them outside of work too, if you’d gotten the chance to know them better.

You lapse into silence long enough that he starts to wonder if you really have finally dozed off in his arms, when you admit softly, “Sometimes I worry it’s me. That I’m not enough, that I’m too scared. That I’m just…too much of a coward or that I just don’t have a place in this world to fit into. That maybe no one wants me - and I know that’s bullshit, I know it is. But no matter how much I try to ignore that fear, it just…won’t go away and I’m terrified I’m going to start believing it.”

Poe shifts and pulls back just enough that he can look down at you, cupping your cheek with his hand, finally forcing you to look up at him. “You are one of the bravest people I know, and I want you. Your friends want you, your family wants you, and one day you’re going to find or make a purpose that fits you.”

You search his face for a few beats, your own slowly softening. Finally, you reply, “You sure have a lot of faith in me.”

“You’ve never given me a reason not to,” Poe says before leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll keep that faith even when you can’t find your own.”

For the first time since he climbed into bed with you, your eyes well with tears. You give him a wobbly smile, nodding once firmly. “Thank you.”

What he’s told you hasn’t changed the fact that you’re still grieving from what you almost had and promptly lost, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still stinging from a very long, difficult few months that have been filled with heartbreak after heartbreak, but it does make a sliver of hope creep into your heart; and for one beautiful moment, it outshines all your anxieties, and you find yourself remembering that this isn’t forever — one day, it’ll get better.

“Always,” Poe whispers, hugging you more tightly to his chest.

[yanderenightmare]

You made me fall in love with fear, it's all just fascinating. The way you write is an aesthetic in itself! It's so beautiful and thought-provoking. If your requests are open, I would love to see your volume one Yanderes with a clumsy s/o. Like, she is accident prone, always injuring herself, etc. I wonder how they would react with such fragility? Thanks! Have a wonderful day! :D

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dumbification, abuse, manipulation, ableism, anxiety, death, murder, drugs, drugging, kidnapping

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He knew fragile things existed in the world.

And he knows that the world was designed to chew such powerless things up then spit them out again.

And he knows he isn’t one of those frail things.

As a child he thought it was fair for the strong to conquer the weak.

And hell… he still thinks it’s fair.

Her brittle nature provides him with such a great excuse too, such a perfect explanation for him to justify taking her.

To justify keeping her in soft frilly clothes, locked inside a room devoid of walls where they have been replaced by cushions and pillows and blankets and furs and stuffed-animals and all things soft, soft, soft against the bruises and scrapes on her knees and ankles and elbows and chin. Keeping her all cozy and clumsy where she’s unable to keep her footing on the plushie asylum floor, reduced to vertigo, especially with that fluffy pink ankle-cuff chaining her down.

Sometimes she’ll hide when hearing Bakugo’s footsteps coming thundering from behind her door. She’ll wrap herself up in all those soft things she’s grown to hate, pray under the covers only to hear the cracking predatory humor of Bakugo’s laugh once he spots where the chain trails to.

He'll drag her out of hiding like a puppy on a leash, all for him to punish, all with that splitting frenzied grin on his face, the one that makes her head dizzy on the sight of seeing how sharp those canines of his are, knowing how they’re going to find her neck as though she’s some chew-toy.

He’ll always make it sound as though that’s what she wanted, that punishment is what her weakness begged him for, as though weakness is synonymous with wanting pain or needing pain.

He’ll sleep there with her most of the time, in the room he’s made so painstakingly clear was her home. She’s coming more and more gradually to the understanding that nothing in reality is hers anymore. Not the room, not the clothes, not her body.

She’s too weak to be allowed to be in charge of anything, better for her to just find comfort in knowing how she has no responsibilities, better for her to just be grateful Bakugo wanted her as his pet rather than his prey. Better for her to listen and believe him when he tells her that she’s safe, instead of thinking of all those crippling reasons as to why she is far from being safe.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Clumsy prey is a sport Shoto always believed to be too mediocre and boring, given how easily the dexterity of the predator can win the chase.

He didn't think he could achieve stimulation without a challenge.

But, he’s now finding that chasing someone who’s barely able to keep her own footing is a game he rather enjoys quite salaciously. Understanding now that it’s less about the quest, less about actually catching his prize, and more about the experience, those funny little moments leading up to it.

The amount of hungry pleasure he derives from seeing her stagger away from him is bottomless.

He doesn’t know why, but it’s the outmost endearing and lovable and precious and cute thing he can think of.

Seeing her stumble and fall, all in the product of mixing her clumsiness with her wild manic fear. Watching those beautiful swivel-eyes spiral as she looks up at him through the thick darkness of the poorly lit hallways, hearing nothing but Shoto’s inhumanly sadistic snickering and her own heavy panting as she tries desperately to drag herself further away. Yet, knowing and awaiting his massive biting cold hand to grip around her ankle to drag her across the marble-floor back into her dungeon, back into the soft bed, so that they can do everything again.

Most chases end up with her hurting herself and eventually aiding her own capture.

She’ll always wake up with bruises she has no recollection of when or how she got, yet looking at them she can tell that they’re way too mellow to be something given to her by Shoto.

It's funny, where he hurts her, he actually ends up saving her more times than most. Where her sporadic escape has almost led her to go tumbling down the stairwell, where were it not for Shoto catching her in her fall, things could have gotten really ugly.

He wouldn’t want her to actually break her legs after all, no matter how many times he might tease and threaten her with the thought. Broken legs would mean no more games, and Shoto doesn’t want that to end any time soon.

But, there are softer aspects to her silliness too.

She can be just as dopey and awkward with her rambling thoughts as him, where her inelegance with her mobility seeps into her skillfulness with words too.

If she’s proper blissed-out she can talk up storms of complete and utter nonsense, rambling on about her dreams and what animal the shape of Shoto’s scars resemble and how pretty his eyes are and how much her body is tingling in the aftershocks of what fun Shoto exercised on her skin.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Naivety really is bliss, isn’t it?

Not just for herself, but for him too.

To watch her, in all her clumsy glory, fall on her face, time and time again, never learning her lesson.

That’s the definition of insanity, you know?

Doing the same thing over and over again expecting things to go differently.

But, no matter how many times she tries to escape, no matter how many times she runs, or screams or cries or swears she hates him until her lungs burn, she’ll always end up right where she started off, right where she belongs, right in his arms, under his thumb, under him.

He doesn’t even have to put any effort in to prevent it.

He just needs to sit back and enjoy the show as she fails so spectacularly all by her very own, then pick her up off the floor and coo and hush and shush and tsk at her to calm down or else she might end up hurting herself all over again.

How has such fickle featherbrained maladroit messes managed to survive? How hasn’t evolution wiped them from existence yet?

Perhaps because other more evolved creatures found them to be such a perfect source for blowing off steam. Entertainment is important after all. Small little escapes through the day where you can forget what nasty troubles you’ll eventually have to deal with and simply just play with your silly little pet.

He saves the world every now and again, the world can allow him this much, to have his very own swivel-eyed toy. He deserves it. 

Besides, she needs him. If he hadn’t stepped in and helped her, saved her from her own mistakes, evolution would have done its job and she’d be dead already.

But, he doesn’t expect her bumbling brainless little head to understand that, she’d just get a headache from thinking about it too hard.

No, better for her to focus on other things… like how to entertain him before he decides to show her just how small a foolish little thing she is.

He’ll often play with her, make her turn all shades of hopeless because she’s too forgetful and too soft-natured to comprehend what’s happened.

He’ll give her things, small little trinkets as presents for her good behavior, mostly accessories such as hair-bows, necklaces, anything he can easily slip off her without her noticing, then pretend to be disappointed, scolding her as though she’s some child who’s unable to take care of her things, punish her and kiss her on that scared foolish little face as she splutters out her apologies, having not a single clue she’s right where he wants her, completely clueless to the fact that she’s perfect in every which way imaginable.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

It feels so unexplainably good to hold something infinitely helpless and vulnerable and dainty in his destructive hands without it shattering like glass.

It feels so insurmountably meaningful and purposeful and godsend to save someone for once, even if it’s from themselves.

It’s nice being in the presence of true chaos, the true absence of order, a great real heap of a total clusterfuck. It makes him believe that even life requires a little death to scare them into safety, that even light requires darkness, that even love needs darkness, that even love desires darkness.

He used to think small things such as her were made up of cotton and all things soft like dandelion-fluff, but now he knows they’re made of breakable brittle things such as autumn-leaves, in desperate need of being wrapped up, suffocated, drowned in safety. He’s the one who needs to be soft like cotton, he’s the one who needs to be gentle and soft so she not crumble like the sweet pastry she is.

It’s cute. She’s cute. Unbelievably so too sometimes.

He feels like half the time he spends with her he’s teaching her how to walk properly, catching her when she falls or helping her up from the ground, dusting her off, wiping tears away from her face, patching up small scrapes and gashes, kissing her forehead, letting her know how it’s all okay, making sure she knows she’s no such thing as a burden, though not letting her in on the fact that he loves seeing her fail only for him to save the day.

He’ll take her outside more because of her ditzy nature, knowing how she’s far too dopey to ever manage an escape without pulling out a near miss unintentional suicide attempt, where which after a number of rescues from him she forgets why she was even running in the first place, now too caught up with being close to him instead, with feeling safe, feeling protected.

He’ll save her from wandering off into traffic, protect her when she says the wrong idiotic thing to the wrong batch of people, fight for her when her cuteness lures and pulls and ensnares other predators.

It’s symbiosis, if he thinks about it, if he tries justifying it.

She needs him and he needs to feel needed. She needs to be taken care of, he wants to take care of her, she needs protection from herself, he wants her dependence, he wants the safety of knowing how she cannot survive without him.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

It’s hilarious.

She’ll break her own legs for him at this rate.

He wonders how many braincells could possibly be left in that thick skull of hers, with how much she trips and walks into walls and rolls out of bed, bumping her head on every possible thing, he can’t count how many times she’s head-butted him, whether it’s been on purpose or not. 

He wonders if she might just be blind.

If maybe she needs glasses…

Well… that’s too bad if that’s the case, no chance he’s giving up watching her agonize over every misstep that leads to her falling on the floor by his feet, her head tipping to look up at him with that ridiculous expression, that dumbfounded adorable confusion.

It probably doesn’t help that he keeps the room so dark.

It probably doesn’t help that he leaves things on the floor in hopes of her foot catching on them.

But, can you blame him for wanting to see her all cute and flushed? Watching her frustrate over herself, too caught up in being mad with her own inadequacy to bother being mad at him. So preciously hopeless as she tries to pick herself up off the floor, her hair always in a mess and bruises and scrapes littering her otherwise soft skin.

Pretty and stupid isn’t usually the type he fawns over, in fact: pretty and stupid is usually the type that disgust him, pretty stupid bitches that never spare him a second glance, pretty stupid bitches that are only worth one fuck before he dusts them.

But pretty stupid and sweet? 

That’s the perfect cocktail.

So stupid and sweet she doesn’t even know how pretty she is. So stupid and sweet that she’s surprised he gave her a second glance.

He wonders if he as well would be this careless and reckless if he hadn’t been gifted with that destructive quirk of his.

He wonders if she had been born with a heart made less up of honeycombs and more daggers like his, if she would also second-guess touching things as opposed to making it her mission to bump into every single thing in her path.

If she would be less trusting and more cynical like him.

He’s grateful she wasn’t.

He’s grateful that the only type of death she’ll ever get the chance to taste is him, that as far as she’s concerned… he is death.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Most of the time it’s cute.

Most of the time he loves watching her fall prey to her own absentmindedness. Watch her trip on nothing but her own poor footing.

After all, he does love catching her before she hits the ground. He loves being her hero, seeing that shocked expression on her face, that cute blush of embarrassment as he smirks down upon her jumpy skittish person.

Then of course there’s the less salvageable moments, yet still no less cute, where she’ll drop dinner plates or her glass or the wine bottle or the remote-controller, where she’ll get so frustrated with herself and her stubby fingers, her feet always needing bandaging where she always manages to step in her own mess of glass-shards.

Those times where she fucks up and fears Keigo’s temperance so much she’ll turn into a timid little ball of apologies and gratitude, where she’ll fear that any more screw ups will cost her his understanding attitude and awake something livid inside him.

She’ll be so sweet with fear as opposed to when she’ll jerk away from his touch.

So yeah, most of the time it’s cute, most of the time it’s beneficial.

But that habit she has of not thinking before speaking or acting gets her into a whole lot of trouble too.

Especially when she pushes him away or calls him something unsavory. When she acts like a brat, forgetting who’s in charge.

Keigo feels the need to teach her a thing or two about being a bit more careful and a little less brainless. 

He’ll pose her in the middle of the living room, with only red lace adorning her tiny frame, looking cold but not so much to be the reason to her shivers, he knows better as he can smell the fear laced in the air.

On top of her head he’ll put a perfect plump red apple and tell her to stand as still and picture-perfect as possible.

She’s pretty good at it too, at being still and quiet and pretty, speaking only when spoken to, at least until he starts sending knife-sharp feathers in her directions, creating her silhouette in the wall as the feathers fly just short of nicking her skin, where if she moves only a slight mere inch, the crimson edges will slice open her skin.

And if the apple should fall, well… if she can be sweet and apologize and show him just how sorry she is, he’ll think about making the punishment enjoyable.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Hitoshi can’t manifest how much awe he has for that ditzy nature of hers.

So forgetful, so clueless, so cute.

She’s like a little girl, a child, a baby in a cradle, yet with the ability to get lost, wandering off at every slight distraction.

He’s tempted to put a bell around her neck if only to be alerted off when her curiosity has taken her out of his eyesight. She would look adorable with a little golden jingle bell around her throat, hanging on a velvet choker.

But then again… he wouldn’t have the joy of finding her all tousled and knotted up in her newest little fuck up.

Little Miss Forgetful forgetting all her lessons, all those rules Hitoshi’s taught her, forgetting her manners, forgetting her chores, forgetting how to be his good little girl or else suffer the consequences of being punished and becoming Master’s little puppet on strings.

Little Miss Messy making a total clutter in the kitchen when trying her best to get her hand on a knife, but only managing to bump into everything, shards of glass painting the crime scene with the culprit displayed and trapped all perfectly in the middle of her own mess, all for Hitoshi to come and catch red-handed.

Little Miss Bump with new bruises and scratches as she’s fallen yet again on the floor in the midst of her newest escape attempt.

He could go on all day about his sweet little Miss Silly, his little Miss Scatterbrain, his little Miss Stupid, who’s always getting into trouble, constantly needing Hitoshi to come to her rescue.

But, when he’s not home, he can get anxious.

Scared that she might actually hurt herself just a bit too much and he’ll arrive just a bit too late.

It should take a lifetime to die, yet she’s on the verge of death nearly every day, it only takes an instant and it’s over.

He’ll check in on her at home more times than he probably should throughout the day, praying before he unlocks the door and steps inside the quiet stillness of their house, picturing her having cracked her skull open when slipping or accidently managing to hang herself off of something or drowning in the tub after having fallen asleep, there’s no end to what horrors he can picture.

His anxiety only satiated when finding her still asleep on the bed, soft untroubled snores hanging off the walls. 

It makes sense with how much melatonin he slipped in her drink before she dozed off…

Just a little safety measure.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

It manages to surprise him each and every time… just how much danger such a little thing is able to wrap herself up in.

It’s as though she chases the trouble, as though she wants the punishment that follows.

He doubts she ever really thinks anything thoroughly through.

She’s reckless, ruthless in her disregard for safety. Hare-brained and untrustworthy and in desperate need of his protection and his correction, or else she might just accidentally kill herself one day or worse… end up in the wrong set of hands.

It’s come to the point where he’s stopped gifting her with jewelry, because he gets so hysterically uneasy whenever she’s gotten her hands on anything sharp.

Before he’d get angry when she threatened him, wrathful, raging because she doesn’t listen, her foolish little brain unable to follow the simplest of directions. 

Now though, he gets scared because she’s unable to understand what’s best for her, because the only thing she'll ever manage to hurt with those sharp trinkets is herself.

And if she hurts herself, if she risks getting bacteria in her bloodstream, infections in her wounds, scarring and marring that beautiful body, he’ll have no choice, he’ll see no other option but to make sure she can never manage such a thing ever again.

He often humors the idea of simply tying her to the bed and feeding her with a silver spoon, only liquids so she not choke when she forgets how to chew properly.

He’ll act as though she’s a nuisance, but it will be a lie most of the time, while actually finding an inane amount of reassurance and relief in her whimsy, in her gracelessness. Where yes, she is a danger, but she’s far from deadly.

And besides, it’s nice getting a little break from all formalities, someone he can finally be a little rough around the edges with, someone he can let himself enjoy soft pleasures with, someone he can smile or even laugh with when the occasion calls for it. 

Sometimes he’ll place her in high-heels, only to watch her stumble around awkwardly like a little deer skating on ice.

She’s so determined too, determined to prove she isn’t a klutz, how she too can be elegant enough for a dance fit for the ballroom.

He’ll humor that fantasy, but she’ll always throw her heels off in favor of standing on top of his surgically white sneakers and letting herself get floated and swayed with how swiftly and precisely Kai has the established proper poise to enact.

He’ll smile then, when those flirty bubbling giggles erupt from her as she holds onto him, telling how him wonderful flying feels like.

TIP-JAR

[forthehpfanboys]

Hush-Hush

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: After pestering  Ron about your romantic relationship for far longer than you anticipated, Your relationship with Ron was more than a mystery to his two friends, but one day, it comes tumbling out in the library, in the middle of the night, with a few witnesses.

Warnings: Swears, arguing.

Notes: I love Ron so much, oh and friendly Draco. And Slytherin reader. And I’m posting this at 4:35, so it isn’t the best.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

You didn't even want to look at him, not in class, not in the corridors. You ignored his longing glances and his little notes during class. If he’d kept his promise, you would be sitting beside him, joking with his friends, not having a care in the world, but of course he didn’t. Ron had already made you more promises than you could count on both hands and he, somehow, managed to keep none of them. Almost every night he made a new empty promise. 

So, you sat across the dining hall, your nose stuffed in one of your favorite books to distract yourself from the big blue puppy dog eyes a table away. You turned the page, your eyes gliding across the words with ease. Your brain effectively blocked out the empty threats, loud laughs and extra noise of the cramped room. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t put in Ravenclaw.”

You barely casted the owner of the voice a three second glance before going back to your book. The body next to you let out a silent huff of annoyance before filling your empty cup with water. He never did like being ignored.

“If you’re gonna be petty, at least drink some water. I did warn you this was going to happen. His pride is higher than his squeaky voice.” The Slytherin next to you snatched the book from your hands before setting the glass in front of you.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Draco.” Your nose scrunched up, your eyes scanned across the room, almost on instinct, and rolled seamlessly over the pouting redhead. “I can handle myself.” You gave Ron a sneer, causing him to flinch. The sneer quickly vanished as your gaze moved down to your plate. Reaching forward, you grabbed your goblet of water and took a sip.

“Good boy.” Draco’s words had you close to spewing water all over the book and poor students in front of you. Instead, it slid down the wrong pipe, resulting in a coughing fit that had you seeing shooting stars behind your lids. “Now maybe you can actually talk to him?” Draco gave your back a few pats, pathetically helping you recover from the near-death experience.

“No. I’ve spent too many nights sneaking out with him and too many hours in hidden tunnels arguing over this shit.” Your nose scrunched up again at the idea of experiencing another fight, the words from the night before still echoing in your conscious.

You didn’t like saying Ron had many flaws, most of them were stereotyped or just gossip floating around, but this was one of, like, five. He was thick-headed. He hated losing, hated arguments, and hated losing arguments more. He was a redhead that was hot-headed and he could be a nightmare. Swearing, interrupting you, yelling- however, he never insulted you head on. Just the occasional ‘don’t be daft!’. 

Oh, and the topic of argument never really changed.

“So, you're going to break up with him? That’s… Well, as much as I hate the weasel, that might not be the best idea.” Draco held his hands out, palm side up, teetering his hands up and down, weighing the options. You watched him, now chin on your own palm, elbow on the table, eyes rolling. “I’d just talk to him.”

Your eyes moved from Draco’s silvery ones to Ron’s baby blues. A silent sigh left your body as he gave you a sad smile and a shy wave. He was doing that adorable thing where ears turn pink and it spreads across his cheeks and down to the tip of his nose. It wasn’t something he could control, but it was still adorable. 

“They’re gonna pick up on it. Seriously, you’re making it far more obvious than he would like, (Y/n).” He gave you a soft nudge in the arm. Naturally, your attention moved from the Weasley trying to get a smile out of you to the blonde at your side. You missed Ron’s smile dropping off his cheeks. “I won’t beg you to talk to him, but you really should. Sometimes, words speak louder than actions, (L/n).”

“Says the one who decided the best way to ask out Zabini was knocking him off his broom during practice.” You smirked, raising your eyebrows as your friend's cheeks quickly changed from the usual pale to pink. You couldn’t help but snicker at his flustered expression. It wasn’t easy to fluster Malfoy, especially when he knew he was one of three people that knew this secret topic.

“Shut up, this isn’t about me. Focus, (Y/n). Just ta-” He was cut off by Dumbledore announcing that breakfast was over. He let out a groan, his hand coming up to rub his temples. “Look, please just talk to him. I’m sick of hearing him cry and bitch and moan and whimper and whine about how he’s so touch deprived.” Draco stood up, sliding your book off the table and into his hands. “Now stop reading and comfort your idiot lion.” 

With a pat on your shoulder, he was following the rest of the Slytherin table out the colossal doors. You kept your eyes on his retreating figure until he got lost in the crowds. Soon enough, you were left alone, sitting idly by yourself in a huge dining hall. You watched the house elves come in and the food disappear, so you decided to find your way out. 

You were swimming in your own thoughts, eyes not fully seeing and ears not fully hearing. You didn’t want to break up with Ron, you loved the idiot, but he was absolutely terrified to tell people he was dating you. Not because he didn’t feel the same way, but rather because of your house.

Not like your home status, like money and all that jazz, but over your Hogwarts house. He didn’t want to face the shit he’d get from his brothers, family and both houses in question. Ron was more worried about you than him. He didn’t want you being bullied, being thrown off the quidditch team or targeted by Snape like every other Gryffindor out there.

As you were walking out, you passed the Golden Trio, who were all chatting and chuckling, until they noticed you. Then the chatter died down, and two scowls were directed in your direction.

“What?” Your voice was flat and unwavering. Your eyes flicked between emerald green and cocoa brown, completely avoided the baby blues right between them. “If you're gonna say something, do it now. I’m really not in the mood for more of your biased shit.”

When no one spoke up, you nodded your head and turned away. You missed your ginger boyfriend taking a step forward while you hurried down the corridor. However, you didn’t miss the not subtle ‘Ron, what are you doing?’ and a soft ‘nothing’ following after. You rolled your eyes hard enough you almost tripped on an uneven tile. 

They still didn’t know.

You stomped to your first class, ignoring the echoing footsteps a few feet behind you. You peeked over your shoulder and couldn’t help but let out a dramatic sigh. You ducked into transfiguration, hurrying over to an empty desk, claiming one of the last few empty seats. The trio that had followed you to class filled in after you, all three freezing at the sight of the desks. 

It was usually two students per desk, meaning one was going to have to branch off to sit next to you. Hermione offered to split off, but Ron beat her to the desk, setting his stuff down on top and sat on the bench next to you.

“(L/n).” He greeted, watching his friends move into the empty desk from his peripheral vision. The redhead was trying to play it off like you barely talked to each other and that only fueled your disgruntlement. 

“Weasley.” You responded, voice just as flat as before. You crossed your arms over the desk, hopefully signaling you weren’t in the mood for playful chatter during the class, but of course he didn’t pick up on it. 

“How was breakfast?” His voice was quieter, softer than before. He played with the quill that once sat at the top of the desk, watching the drops of ink land back into the well.  “I saw you talking with Malfoy.”

“Yeah?” You didn't even turn to him or show him a hint of a smile.

“Yeah.” Ron set the quill back in the ink before looking up at one of the many cages that surrounded the room. The silence that spread between the two of you quickly dispersed as McGonagall finally entered the classroom and started a cheerful good morning. She quickly slid into the lesson, the chalk effortlessly floating in the air as it wrote out the spells they’d be learning. 

You rested your cheek against your hand while your dominant hand scribbled away on parchment. Soon, the various animal sounds were accompanied by the sound of writing and you really couldn’t complain. It was a nice sound, but you noticed your boyfriend hadn’t even picked up his quill. Giving him a harsh nudge brought him back to reality, allowing him to catch up on the topics.

“You never answered my question.” Ron leaned over to whisper to you, still actively scribbling his notes. Granted they were messy, but if he could read it, who cared? “How was breakfast?”

“Fine, Ronald. It was fine.” You still didn’t turn to him or look at him. Like Draco, Ron didn’t like being ignored. He licked his lips before opening his mouth again. He knew why you were grumpy with him, but he was hoping his charming demeanor would shove the frustration away from you.

“Can you at least look at me? I miss your pretty eyes.” He tried to flash you a charming smile, but it quickly faded when you gave him an unimpressed look. He swallowed thickly, turning back to the front of the classroom. “Sorry.”

You let out a sigh, glancing at the table to the right of Ron, accidentally meeting brown judgmental eyes that belonged to your boyfriend's friend. You faced the front quickly, letting out a sigh through your nose.

“Alright, I’m sorry for being sour. I have every right to be, ya know.” You whispered quickly, repeating the spell with the class after McGonagall, like she instructed. You brought your pointer finger to your mouth, nibbling on the skin next to your nail. It was a stress habit you had picked up recently.

“It’s ok, lovie.” Ron couldn’t help but smile, albeit a small one. He reached out, gently placing his hand on your knee. “I- hey, stop that.” He smacked your hand away from your lips, shooting a soft glare at you. “I know you're stressed. It’s gonna be ok.”

With a quick glance back at the table to Ron’s right from the corner of your eye, you gently moved his hand off your leg. When he opened his mouth to question what you were doing, you cut him off.

“They’re getting suspicious. I’ll meet you in the library tonight, usual time.” You tried not to smile at the enthusiastic nod he gave. And you especially tried not to nod when McGonagall called on him.

“So, Mr. Weasley, you do know the answer?” Her tone had a hint of judgement to it, and the sudden attention drawn to him had Ron’s cheeks brightening in color again. You almost snorted as he stuttered out a loud ‘n-no ma’am!’.

The classes dragged on from there, leaving you tired, frustrated and more touch deprived than ever. You were excited to have some time alone with Ron and prayed to Merlin that it wouldn’t lead to an argument. You wanted to lean against him while he read the Beedle the Bard stories- more specifically the Tale of the Three Brothers that he knew by memory.

The daydreams of being pressed against him while he read to you helped you get through dinner. You borderline sprinted through the halls, weaving through everyone to get up to your dorm. You grabbed a few books from your collection before you were running through all the halls again. Balancing the thick books against your chest, you pushed open the towering doors of Hogwarts library and hurried in.

“Ronnie?” You whispered, walking deeper into the dark room. Your eyes were naturally drawn to the faint light of a lantern illuminating from one of the many tables and figured it must be Ron. It was far past curfew to be anyone else. “Ron?” You called out, louder this time, weaving past the study areas and great book shelves.

“Over here, darling.” His distinct voice filled in the room, immediately putting you at ease. You quickened your pace, breathing heavily from the weight of the books. Once you made it to the table Ron had deemed his, you set the books down, wincing at the volume of the bang. “Merlin! What did you bring?” He teased, looking at each book title.

“What? They're just books. I know you can read, so I plan on extorting your vocabulary.” You smiled, slipping into the seat next to him. You reached for his hand, enjoying how his calloused skin finally eased the itch you’d been feeling for the past few hours. “Will you read to me?” The edges of your smile twitched downward when he broke out in a fit of giggles. “What?”

“First of all, that’s adorable.” His sideways smile and charming voice had you blushing under his gaze. “And second, we’re in a library. I’m gonna say the words again. We’re in a library. Why did you bring your books when we’re surrounded by them?”

“Because.. I did not feel like looking for them.” You stammered, nudging your boyfriend away from you when he wrapped an arm around the back of your chair and tugged it closer. 

“I have a feeling that’s not the real reason, dollie. Is it because my boyfriend forgot what a library was for?” His smug tone had your face turning a darker shade of red.

“Shut it, Weasley. Just read to me.” You stood up, ignoring Ron’s deep laugh. You effortlessly slipped out of his grasp and transfigured your chair into a medium sized bean bag for you and Ron to share. While you moved the bag against one of the book shelves, Ron regathered the books and the lantern.

He plopped onto the bag, enjoying how his body sunk into the middle of the bag. He set the books down next to him in a stack and balanced the lantern on top. Then, he opened his arms, allowing you to sit on his lap and lean back into him. He was able to wrap his arms around your waist and peer over your head, making this the best reading/snuggle position known to wizard or man.

“Pick your poison, (Y/n). What story do you want?” Ron kissed the back of your head before naming off the stories. 

“What about Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump?” You looked up at him, craning your neck to see his expression. His eyes gazed into yours before his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek. 

“You just wanna hear me say Babbitty Rabbitty and think it’s cute. Not gonna happen, cookie. Pick a different one.” He gave your stomach a pat of affection, his eyes twinkling in the lamp light.

“Fine, the Three Brothers, then. I knew you would end up picking that story anyway, it being your favorite and all.” You grumbled the last part, jokingly crossing your arms with exaggeration. He rolled his eyes, not that you saw, and began to tell the story, by heart, like usual.

The only unusual thing was his story telling kept getting interrupted by his own yawns, causing him to lose his place and nearly start the story over. He removed an arm from around you to rub his eye, trying almost desperately to stay awake. The ginger was so focused on staying awake he almost missed you speaking, but managed to catch the tail end.

“-like the brother who asked to hide from death, don’t you think?”

“Come again, love?” Ron ran his fingers through your hair, enjoying the way it moved with his hand. His grin matched his joy, easily, especially when he thought his amazing and talented boyfriend had a question about the story. However, he was no wear near ready for the curve ball coming his way.

“I was just saying maybe we.. We could actually sleep if we told everyone. We wouldn’t have to sneak around.”

“Not this again, (Y/n), come on.” he spoke, putting his hands on your waist and moving you forward on the bean bag, trying to signal you to stand. “We’ve talked about this dozens of times! I’m just not ready.”

“When will you be ready?” You stood up, turning toward him. While he thought over his reply, you ran a hand through your hair, foot tapping impatiently as tension filled the once related and happy room. He just pathetically shrugged his shoulders. “Ron, that isn’t an answer.”

“It isn’t fair for you to ask me to set a date to tell my friends I’m frisking with the enemy!” His frustration over the topic was quickly coming back, as it usually did. You, on the other hand, just felt pissed. Your jaw was hanging open in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry. ‘Frisking with the enemy’ might not be the term you're looking for. Would you like to try again?” You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest, this time with actual anger. 

“You know what I mean!” He shouted while struggling to leave the bean bag’s slippery grasp. “Damnit!” He grumbled through his teeth, effectively slipping and falling back into the soft chair.

“All I’m saying is that it’s just beneficial. We could be open! We wouldn’t have to stress about looking at each other too long or brushing shoulders in the hallway! We could be a normal teenage couple!” You didn’t think you were being unreasonable. 

“I thought you could let this go for one day!” Ron had finally stood up, moving around you to now pace in the empty library. He put his hands in his pocket, turning back to you again. “Just one day, let us, maybe, not fight.” 

“It isn’t my fault you don’t listen to reason.” You grumbled. Ron made a confused and almost betrayed sound.

“Me? Oh, no, darling. You’re the one that’s being all mental. Do you know what they’ll say about us? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor?” He pointed to you, then himself. “We’ll be a target for both teams. They’ll drag us apart and run us through mud!’

“Ronnie, I’m not asking you to wear a sign that says you're boning a Slytherin and share it with the whole school. Just our friends.” You ran your hand through your hair again. Your stress from the day was beginning to boil over. “You can’t keep  brushing this off like it’s not affecting either of us.”

“It isn’t! I’m perfectly content like this.”

“The bags under your eyes and the constant yawning say otherwise.” Running a hand down your face, you looked around at the empty library. You were sure Madam Pince was out, due to the fact that she would’ve already had a cow over the fact you both snuck in. “I..” Draco’s words from earlier were ringing in your skull all over again. You brought a finger to your lips without even realizing it and began to chew at the skin anxiously.

“What’s wrong?” Ron tried to keep the anger out of his tone, but he failed. It shined through like a dirty penny being whipped clean, exposing the shiny copper beneath the grime. “Is it something I did again?”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, Ronnie.” As you spoke, your nose began to sting while your eyes burned. You didn’t want to say it, and maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. His face changed between a few dozen emotions before finally landing on confused. Ron took careful steps toward you, his eyes swirling with worry and fear. Fear of losing you. When he was close enough to feel the short breaths leaving your mouth, he grabbed your arms, giving you a soft squeeze.

“What do you mean?” His eyes bounced back and forth between yours, his arms squeezing a tad harder. “Do you want to break up with me?” His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. Once the words were out, you realized that was far from what you actually wanted. 

“No!” Your anger was making a sequel appearance in the argument. “I just can’t keep sneaking around! It hurts!” You didn’t care that you sounded like a child, it felt like everyone was waving a relationship in your face and you couldn’t do anything about it. 

“What do you want me to do? Stand up on a table and shout it out? I’ll do it!” Ron ran over to one of the few tables not crowded by carbon copies, putting one foot on a chair and the other on the top of the oak polished. He easily put all of his weight on the table, flaring his arms out before allowing them to fall back against his legs.

“Ron, get down!” You whispered harshly, hurrying after him and tugging on his hands. You’d gladly tug him down and continue this argument anywhere else. “Please get down.” 

“Nope! Not until you stop being mad at me!” He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the sting of his lip trapped between his teeth. The Gryffindor took a deep breath before he let out a sigh. His fingers tapped along the side of his biceps and his gaze moved to the old high roof of the library.

“I have every right to be mad at you! Now come down right now!” This time you tugged at his pant leg, a groan of frustration leaving your lips as he took a step back. The table creaked in protest, but both of you ignored it.

“No! If this is what I have to do to make sure we can keep staying together, then I’ll do it! Because you mean more to me than anyone in this school and I can’t afford to lose you!” He stomped his foot to emphasize his point. While he was doing his tangent, you made eye contact with some students who really should’ve been sleeping.

“Um, Ron?”

 “I really should say it more often but I love you! And-”

“Ron-”

“Don't interrupt me, lovie, I’m trying to save our relationship. And I should prove it more often too, so, tomorrow, I’ll stand up on the dining tables during breakfast and announce I have been dating (L/n) for the past year and that nothing can change that!” He tossed his head back, holding his arms out like a man feeling rain for the first time in a century. 

“Are you done now?” You watched him carefully, crossing your arms over your chest. Once his arms dropped to his sides again, he nodded his head. “Cool, cause they know.” Ron’s head snapped around the empty library before he turned around, seeing Harry and Hermione standing just a few feet behind the table he was standing on.

“Oh. Hi, guys. I thought um.. What aarre... Why?” He took a step back, effectively shifting the weight from the middle, resulting in the table tipping. With a shout, the ginger collided with the floor. You, Harry and Hermione flinched at the thud that echoed in the dead silent room. 

“Ronnie? You ok?” You walked over to him. You couldn’t help but snicker at the strawberry tint that covered his pale skin. You bent down, obstructing some of his view of the beautifully articulated ceiling, which he quickly brought up, hoping to cause his friends to forget about what they heard.

“Wow. They really put a lot of work in the detailing, huh? Brilliant! It’s truly fantastic. Is that oak?” He rubbed his head as he sat up, looking at the titled table. He looked up at his best friends before standing up, albeit clumsily. 

An awkward silence quickly fell over the room. Ron shifted his weight between his feet. You chewed on your nail. Hermione played with her hair. Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well? Are you going to explain yourselves?” Hermione spoke up suddenly. She put her hands on her hips, clearly not happy with the outcome of everything.

“Or we could just let them be. They seemed to be having a moment.” Harry spoke up, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes.

“Nonsense. You dragged me out of bed for this, Harry. I expect a full explanation.”

So, with that, Ron fixed the table, everyone sat down and the story of how your relationship with Ron morphed from enemies to lovers in a few years time. Both of his friends listened intently until the story was over. Hermione asked a few questions about some basic things, one of them being if that was why he was rubbing your knee earlier that day, but soon enough, the four of you decided it was late. After transfiguring the bean bag back into a chair and putting the lantern out, you split up, heading back to your different common rooms, but not without a kiss and a good night from Ron.

The next morning came quickly and Ron was waiting by the entrance to the dining hall. He had woken up early, despite the few hours of sleep he’d gotten from the night before. Talking to his best friends about his secret boyfriend went far, far deeper into the night than he’d expected. So, here he was, waiting patiently for them to show up so he could keep his promise.

He nodded to his brothers and their friends, and his sister and her friends, before his own finally came trotting along. His heart physically fluttered when he saw Harry, Hermione and you, not just walking side by side, but joking and laughing. He bit his lip to try to prevent his smile from growing too wide.

“Hey guys!” He called out, ignoring everyone in the hall and rushing over. This time, he didn’t hesitate to grab your hand, even going as far as kissing your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning or blushing over the simple affection, and you felt the touch starved itch disintegrate inside of you slowly.

“Hey, Ron.” Hermione chimed in, catching her breath from laughing.

“Good morning, mate. Ready for the big day?” Harry asked, nudging Ron in the side.

“As ready as I can be.” He replied with a grin, shooting your confused expression a wink.

“What are you guys goin’ on about?” Your eyes danced between Harry’s and Ron's, that seemed to have an invisible way of communication that you were quickly becoming jealous of. 

“Nothing, prince. I’ll tell you while we eat.” Ron casted you his mischievous grin while getting the door and was hoping Merlin you couldn’t see the nervousness in his eyes. When you walked in, you instinctively began to head over to the now waving Draco, ready to tell him the news, but the hood of your robe was grabbed and you were being dragged to the Gryffindor table.

You were sat down and Ron was scuttling up to the teachers table, but before long, he was coming right back to the table to sit next to you. Except, he didn’t sit, he stood behind you, fixing your robe.

“Seriously, Ron, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, bunny, just relax.” He kissed your head, shooting you another wink. “I just want to keep my promise from last night.” Before what he said could even click in your head, he was climbing onto the Gryffindor table, grinning down at you. “Oh, and before I forget, or get buried alive by my family, remember that I love you, yeah?” All too suddenly, he was whistling to catch everyone in the dining halls attention and he was dramatically clearing his throat.

Why McGonagall let him stand on a table and talk for almost fifteen minutes about how he was dating a Slytherin, you still don’t know, but you couldn’t help but smile up at him as he ranted about your gorgeous smile and your perfect hands and shiny eyes to the entire school.

And, of course Draco started chanting ‘kiss! kiss! kiss!’ after his speech was done.

[madd-devil]

Slowly falling in love with Felix part 3! :3

"I don't get why you and Felix argue so much!" Pan groaned as he swung his legs over  a fallen tree. "I have been trying to make you two closer… seriously everyone can tell how much you both are smitten with each other!" 

"I don't like Felix!" You said, your face flushing suddenly because of the blunt statement. "I don't even know where you got that stupid idea…" 

"Come on love, I know how it works. And you know what? You two are my favourites, so get together and stop annoying me with your pointless fighting." 

"I would rather die than assume that…" You mumbled as you finished picking berries. "By the way, it is not nice to play favourites."

"You do it too." He smirked, arching an eyebrow. "With Felix." He sang, enjoying embarrassing you.

You approached Pan and handed him the basket with a look. He shook his head with a small laugh, understanding what you meant. After all, you were truly a mother. He disappeared in a foggy green cloud and you hoped he wouldn't eat all the fruits this time. It was always a bad idea to make him your errand boy, but he was fast and could get to the camp quickly thanks to his magic. 

Being a mother to a dozen of lost boys was not easy. Between breaking fights and fixing their messes, it was clear you didn't have any time for yourself. You didn’t really care to be honest, you enjoyed being useful and were very good at it, trying to raise those boys. 

You sighed as you were closing a hole on Butch's old stuffed animal. The kid would bring it everywhere with him, and even if Felix tried to take it away from Butch, the little one always found a way to find his stuffed animal. It was cute to see that pale and scrawny boy hugging that little plushed dog tightly against his body. 

You smiled as you gave Butch his toy back and he muttered a soft thank you before hurrying back to his group of friends. Felix besides you sighed, clearly annoyed at the childish behaviour and you rolled your eyes.

"Stop mothering him." He only stated, his eyes burning into yours.

"I will do what I want, you are no master to me." You replied, slowly standing up to his level. "Besides, I am their mother, it is my job to care for them." 

The scarred boy smirked at your remark, and you were a little taken aback. You wondered what was going on through his thick skull. He leant down to your level, and you felt his breath on your neck. It sent a shiver down your side, and you started to grow nervous about what was going to happen. 

"You realise they will never be yours, right?" 

You let out a shocked and strangled gasp at his statement and watched how proud he was from saying this. That always had been a tough matter to you, and he knew it. He fucking knew it and used it against you, like an insult. You thought he was above using insecurities, but clearly not. You were wrong after all. You pushed him out of your way, walking out enraged, and tried to block out his laughter. He was mocking you as well. 

He was a bastard. 

You promptly ignored Pan's calls to you as you stomped into the dark jungle and stopped until you approached a cliff's edge. Below it, the sea was crashing against the rocks, and you pondered for a moment. Maybe you should jump, to give your numb body a reaction, or to be away from this mess you pulled yourself into. You just wanted to rest for weeks.

It was never easy to be a mother, to never have someone actually cares about you. You sat down, and pulled your knees to your chest, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. You hated crying about it, but what Felix told you and... and being exhausted from a never ending job clearly had broken you today. 

When you heard someone approaching, you angrily put your head on your knees and closed your eyes, in denial. 

"Go away! I don't want to speak to anyone." 

"I think you want to listen to what I want to say though." 

Your eyes shot up right open and you scowled.

Felix. Of course it was him disturbing your little moment of peace. 

You resisted the urge to attack him, and instead focused on ignoring the lost boy. He sighed and walked up to you, kneeling down in the process. You tried to avoid glancing at him, and looked at the horizon.

"I'm..." He started with difficulty. "I am sorry for what I said in the camp. It was... uncalled for." 

"Did Pan give you a little recital before coming here?" You hissed, finally daring to glare at him. 

"No. I came on my own. I would never lie about this."

You hummed, not fully trusting him. You heard him sighing again and leaving. It was better that way. Felix was like the others, but at least he apologised for his horrid comment earlier. 

Later that night, you went to bed with a pained, anxious and sick feeling in your stomach. Deciding to ignore it, you went to bed quickly, very happy that the day had passed and that you didn’t have to deal with Felix. But, you unfortunately had to deal with nightmares

Hands were tied up to your neck, and you couldn’t even protect yourself. The hands belonged to no one, they just swarmed around in the shadows to grasp you. 

A set of them were shaking you rather roughly, but you couldn't react. A voice reached your ears, you couldn't understand what it was saying. At this point, you wanted nothing but to throw up. In an ultimate effort to fight the nightmare off, you started to trash against the hands.

"Stop moving! It's me!" Felix's voice reached your mind and snapped you back to reality.

Your eyes snapped wide-open and you gasped, realising you had stopped breathing while you were sleeping. You were sweaty and were pretty sure your hair was all over the place. The blond haired boy was holding both of your hands rather roughly, but you didn't want to say anything about it. You felt like something big was going to happen, and a threat was hung above your head. 

Your breath hitched many times as you tried to ask him what he was doing here, but the precious air seemed to stop pumping your lungs and you grasped at Felix's shirt. He immediately took you in his arms, laying down with you as tears fell from your eyes. His big hands circled your back and you slowly calmed down, clutching on to him, your eyes still darting around the tent in the search of danger. Felix must have sensed this, because he kept you closer to him.

"Don't worry, as long as you are with me, no one will ever take you from us. And no one will ever hurt you." He murmured with a soft and the first genuine smile you witnessed him bearing. "I promise." 

You nodded eagerly, you never had the intention to leave Neverland, even when you were the first to witness how horrible and terrible this island could be. You have seen Pan snapped so many times toward a boy, but especially to pirates, and you can't count the number of times you had watched him entering the camp, bloody, with Felix at his side, equally looking dishevelled. You realised that you never questioned them about what happened. The only time a boy did it, the second in command screamed it was to protect them and the island. You didn’t know if it was the truth, if they both enjoyed massacring Hook's crew that always came back or if they felt regret at all.

Finally, you felt your breathing come back at its normal pace. You were feeling tired again, but didn't know if he was going to stay. You heard some snores suddenly, and you looked up to see the blond haired boy already asleep. You didn’t care about the consequences of sleeping with Felix at the moment. It was nice, to finally have one little moment for yourself. Ultimately, you curled on yourself, clutching Felix’s arm and fell asleep as well. 

"(Y/N)! Devin puts thorns in my shoes!" A boy cried as he entered the tent. "What are you doing with Felix?!" He screeched, waking up both of you. 

The blond haired boy immediately blushed when he realised the position he was in, and you completely understood why: you were both tangled in each other limb, and anyone walking through could imagine what had happened. As long as Pan wasn't coming in...

"Come on Felix! At least take the girl on a date before jumping to the most fun part." He chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows with a suggestive tone as he appeared in front of the innocent boy. 

"We weren't... doing this!" You cried, feeling your cheeks heating up, embarrassed as you got up from bed to attend to the lost ones. 

"What were they doing Pan?" The boy asked curiously and innocently.

"Nothing! Now, let's take a look at your shoes, okay?" You smiled at him while taking his much smaller hand in yours. 

As you left the tent, you could hear Pan's laughter echoing in the camp. You bite your lips and ignore the looks of the older lost boys. Word spread like wildfire there. Despite their appearances, the boys were very noisy and you disliked this. 

You spent the day avoiding Felix, and by doing so you avoided your feelings growing for him. What was wrong with you? You hated the way he made you feel but you had to admit: what he did last night was... incredible. You had loved the way he had embraced you and calmed you down almost immediately. After all, there wasn't only bad in him. 

You cluelessly smiled to yourself as you thought this and nearly bumped into Peter Pan, who appeared suddenly in front of your person with that sly look... You knew it, and rolled his eyes at him with a sigh. 

"You are so in love with him, aren't you?" He sang as leant against a tree with his arms crossed. "Felix is shy, so maybe you should... ask him what he feels about you." 

"Of course not! That is private. I am not going to pester him with..."

"But he loves you too!" The green eyed boy cut you and groaned in annoyance. "I just want my favourite lost ones to be... to be happy. I know you both can't hear the music, so therefore you aren't truly lost and I don't care about that. I don't enjoy seeing both of my friends sulking." He admitted, a little embarrassed after pouring his thoughts on your situation. "It's my rules after all. I can bend them or break them whenever I feel the need to." 

You pondered for a moment after what Peter Pan told you. You walked over, and leant next to him as well. Most of the time, Pan had treated you like you were his maid or a mother, often mocking you for being it. But he knew why it was important for you and that you enjoyed caring for the boys. It was surprising for him to be called his friend, and an immense honor. 

"Fine... I will do it. I will talk to Felix." You assured him with a soft smile and you playfully ruffled his hair. 

He snorted at your motion and attempted to do the same to your hair. Two members of a sentry appeared, cutting short to the fun. You stayed next to Pan as he listened to what they had discovered: apparently, Hook and his ship were back to Neverland. You gulped nervously: the last time he came, it ended badly for both sides. You had never seen Pan that furious and enraged. You glanced at the lost boy leader and he commanded you to get back to the camp as fast as possible. You understood why, he didn’t want to endanger you. 

You spent most of the night at the main campfire, wondering when Pan and the two boys will come back. You hoped none of them were injured... Hook seemed stronger and stronger each time he returned to the island. You shuddered as a sudden cold wind reached and you cursed yourself for not having thicker clothes. 

"You look cold." Felix's monotonous voice said behind you. "Here let me..." 

Not daring looking at him, you let him do what he intended. The familiar worn out wool cloak was now hugging your figure and instantly warmed you up. 

"Thank you..." You whispered, not wanting to wake up the sleeping boys. "I think I am just tired." You tried to justify.

"Why don't you go to sleep then?" He asked as he sat down next to you, his eyes staring into the fire.

"I want to wait for the others. I have to make sure they come back safely." You blurted out immediately and worriedly. 

"You are a good mother." The young man murmured, and you swore you saw the tips of his ears reddening a little. 

Remembering your talk with Pan, you gulped nervously and played with your hair for a moment, trying to find the right words to admit your feelings. You were very tense, and hoped he would take it well. Finally, you found some courage in your frail body and looked directly at him. The lost one seemed concerned for a moment but waited for you to speak. 

"Felix I... I care about you a lot." You tried, hoping he would understand. 

"I do too." He confessed with a rare and genuine smile. "I care about you as well, more than the boys actually." 

You sighed in relief with a small laugh. So he was not that of an idiot after all! That immediately reassured you.

"You matter for me... as well as Pan." 

"Wh... What?" You breathlessly stuttered, eyebrows furrowimg in confusion. 

"I care about you the same I care about Pan." He repeated confidently. "I will always have your back. It feels nice to say it."

"Right..." 

You were such an idiot. You thought Felix loved you, obviously, he didn't. Then why was he sometimes... caring? Wasn't he the one who brought you the flowers in the first place? Wasn't it the reason why he messed with you a lot? You shook your head, hoping that your thoughts and feelings would disappear. 

"I am tired. I should get to bed." You said, clearly sounding disappointed and taking off the cloak.

"It is for the best. I will stay, don't worry. You look a bit sick... you okay?" Felix questioned as you handed him back his cloak. 

"Yes... Yes, don't worry about me." You gave him a fake reassuring smile and yet his eyes seemed to understand you were lying but he didn't question it. 

What an imbecile you were, you thought as you stomped toward your small tent. Sometimes you wished you could take out your own heart and crush it beneath your foot. You hated having feelings. 

[sunnydeviant]

Nines’s First Birthday Present (it’s so fluffy i swear)

On AO3

When Nines’s first birthday comes up, he doesn’t expect to get his first present from Gavin. They’ve been working as partners in the DPD for ten months already, so it was not a complete surprise. However, he’s not very used to kind gestures from the detective, especially ones involving material presents. 

The expression on Nines’s face when he saw a giant, red, cardboard box next to his desk, which was too big to put on top, was precious. Genuine surprise marked his features: raised eyebrows, widened eyes, and parted lips.

Gavin observed his reaction from the breakroom, blushing as he sipped from his cup of coffee. Gavin had come in early with Tina to plant the humorously large present at the android’s desk.

Tina also planted Gavin’s phone on top of the counter that was right in front of the pair’s desks to document the moment for him. In addition, she sat at her own desk, recording him with her phone while trying to not seem suspicious. She smiled gently, mentally cooing at his reaction. 

Nines tapped at the box in multiple spots, listening to the variations in pitch and reverb. The item inside seemed solid, but soft. He looked around, noting the very few people in the bull pen. There was Tina, at her desk, and a few other officers that he wasn’t acquainted with. 

He looked around the box, looking for a name or something to signify who it was from. The giant box was forty-eight cubic feet, four by four by four. He was surprised at the weight when he rotated it upside down to look at the bottom for any more information. The item shifted inside, but he was not worried about it breaking: he was sure it was too soft to break. Not finding any information, he turned it right side up and peeled at the tape the sealed the top. 

He opened the flaps of the box, seeing an obnoxiously large teddy bear sitting inside, sagging under it’s own weight. The surprised expression was back, now with the addition of his LED spinning a frenzied yellow with flecks of red making their appearance.

He pulled it out, admiring its beady black eyes and cream colored fur. It seemed to be six feet tall, just a few inches shorter than him.

He hugged the large plush, smiling at the comforting weight and texture it provided. His sensors picked up on the very faint scent of roasted coffee beans and cologne.

With the bear in his arms, he peered back into the box. He was surprised yet again when there was a light blue envelope at the bottom that he had originally missed.

Nines looked around once more, but now with a bashful expression. His cheeks tingled with the sensation of a blush. He looked down, trying to discreetly hide his blue-tinged face. He set the bear on his chair and took the envelope carefully in his hands. 

He tried his best to open the envelope without damaging it and was, thankfully, successful. He pulled out the card. The front side said “Happy 1st Birthday!” in bright pink font against a pastel blue background. The edges of the card had little balloons covered in holographic glitter. He ran his fingers over it, analyzing it.

He then the cute card, seeing a messy scrawl in black ink that undoubtedly belonged to his partner.

“Happy Birthday, dipshit. Here’s to more crime-solving and ass kicking. - The World’s Best Partner and Detective >:)”

Nines chuckled at the message, his LED shifting between yellow and blue. He covered his mouth, keeping his head down again. His thirium pump fluttered unexpectedly, making him feel impossibly light and ecstatic. The addition of the little emoticon was so very much Gavin of his partner to do. He saved this memory to his databanks, under the file that was specifically for his partner. He delicately put the card back into its envelope and closed it before setting on his desk. He then grabbed the bear and placed it in its box cautiously.

He pushed the box flush against his desk as to keep it out of his way and sat down, glancing around the building to find his partner.

He looked down at the box again, seeing traces of Gavin and Tina’s fingerprints all over the box.

He stared at his computer in an attempt to use it to hide the ghost of a smile on his lips. However, a curiosity washed over his mind.

“Where was Gavin? Why did he give the present to me this way instead of just giving it to me himself?”

He understood surprises and the appeal of them, liking them himself, but it seemed rather uncharacteristic for the detective to avoid just giving it to him. He preferred to do things face-to-face.

Nines looked down at the floor, finding faint traces of Gavin’s tennis shoes leading to the break room. He decided to wait for him rather than seek him out.

After seven minutes and fifteen seconds of waiting, the man finally came out of the break room, steaming hot coffee in his hand. He smirked lazily.

“Good morning and happy birthday, tin can.”

“Good morning to you too and thank you very much, meat sack,” Nines replied.

The teasing that originally started as malicious had grown to be sarcastic and friendly: a part of their routine.

The detective sat down unceremoniously, starting up his computer as he did every normal day.

Thoughts of the present, its significance, and its presentation made Nines’s LED swirl yellow.

Gavin said, still looking his his computer, “Ya doin’ anything for your birthday?”

“I didn’t really think of anything. I think Connor, Sixty, and I are just going to play a new game I had wanted to purchase, but that’s about it.” No other events of significance were marked on his calendar.

“Well, do you wanna try something new? Like, I don’t know, uhm, stargazing? Going somewhere scenic?”

Nines was amazed at how much the detective seemed to remember about him. He had mentioned wanting to get out of the city to look at what nature had to offer a few months back. It was mentioned briefly, but the man had seemed to remember it well. In addition, he had mentioned that he wanted the over-sized stuffed animal in an extremely random conversation during the summer. 

How did Gavin remember that? He wasn’t sure, but the fact that he did made Nines feel giddy.

“Yes, that... That sounds rather pleasant, Gavin. Thank you.”

He looked at his partner, smiling.

Gavin rubbed at the scar on his nose with a gentle touch, something Nines knew he had done when he was nervous.

“Yeah, don’t mention it, you glorified toaster.”

He looked back at his computer. Nines scanned him, noticing his increased heart rate and body temperature.

“IT’S A DATE!” Tina called from her desk.

Immediately, the blush and sheepish smile came back to Nines. Gavin noticed how quickly the android’s LED flashed from a calm blue to a deep red. He snapped his head toward her, raising his voice.

“No it’s not, you fuck-nugget!”

Nines covered his face with a hand. Pre-constructions ran through his mind palace, creating an endless amount of scenarios and possibilities, all about Gavin.

His face became impossibly more blue.

Gavin looked like he was about to start fuming, until he took another look at his partner.

“Nines, you okay?” Genuine concern made itself evident in his tone.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, Gavin.”

Well, fuck. 

Nines was sure that Gavin would be the death of him. 

[gaysimpsstuff]

Fatgum As a Dad

This was inspired by a conversation I had on a discord server, we all have daddy issues and want Fatgum to adopt us so here’s all the shit we collected.

There are some serious themes in here, mostly regarding the biological parents of the kid, but it’s vague as possible. If anyone wants me to add a trigger warning please let me know.

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

It all started when he was a kid, when he learned what an orphanage was. One of the kids in his class mentioned being from one, so when he got home he asked his parents about it. 

“Mom, what’s an orphanage?”

“Well, Taishiro, it’s where children that don’t have parents go. Then people can come and adopt the children. Why do you ask.”

“A kid at school said he’s from one, when d’you think he’s gonna get adopted?”

“He might, not all children get adopted. Some of them stay in the orphanage until they’re adults.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he shouted. “EVERYONE DESERVES A HAPPY CHILDHOOD!”

“Well, honey, life’s not fair. And not everyone gets a happy life. It’s how most villains are made, actually. They were hurt more than everyone else and couldn’t handle it anymore. Not all villains are like that but many are. I think you should stay away from that kid, Taishiro. He might turn out a villain.”

But he didn’t stay away. And he made it his mission to become a pro hero so he could make a ton of money and help as many people as he could. He’d help even villains, keep them from doing something dangerous and inspire hope in them.

Then, he’d adopt any kid who needed a father. All the orphanages and foster programs would be empty. Homeless children off the street and in his house, being fed and clothed. He’d care for each and every one of them, not wanting a single person to feel like they didn’t belong. 

He finds most of his kids at pride parades. He walks around with a shirt that says ‘FREE DAD HUGS’ and a box full of candy. He remembered one of the kids walking up to him slowly.

“Um.. are you Fatgum?” 

“Yes I am!”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Yes you can, Kiddo!” he got down, and the kid put his arms on his stomach (Fatgum’s too big for anyone to fully hug, the dude’s taller than Allmight!) he wrapped his arms around the kid before he heard sniffles. He looked down and saw that the kid was crying.

“M-my parents never hug me like this!” they exclaimed. “They haven’t since I came out. They want to kick me out when I turn thirteen!” 

“Can I have their number? I’m going to... talk to them.”

He ended up taking the kid’s family to court, and since the parents were going to just kick the kid out anyways, they let Fatgum adopt them, but they kept nagging him about how he was ‘going to be raising a little demon.’

“Then call me Lucifer.” he spat right back. Now, that kid’s grown up, has pride flags all around their walls, and doesn’t ever doubt that they’re loved.

Fatgum probably bakes with his kids. Helping them up onto the counter to mix ingredients and play with the dough. If they mess something up or break a glass, it’s fine. He doesn’t yell at them or sigh and shake his head, he just kissed the kid on the forehead and helps them clean up the mess. 

The food always turns out amazing, and Fatgum always tells the kids that. All of his kids are now Gordon Ramsay level chefs and have probably met Gordon Ramsay. 

No matter what their body type is, Fatgum tells his kids their handsome/beautiful and are model worthy. If anyone comments of one of his kid’s body, whether it be negative or... ‘positive’ in a creepy way, you can expect that they’re getting slammed into the ground. No questions asked.

One of Fatgum’s kids is really good at make-up. Like, really good. So Fatgum did the only thing a rational father would do. 

Ask for a make-up job.

It didn’t end all that well...

“Hold still.. I gotta get the eyeliner on.”

“Gosh, Kiddo it’s making my eyes water.” 

“I know, just hold still... aaaand...... done! Now don’t touch it or it’ll smear!”

“Wow, that looks great! You’re really good at this!”

“Thanks, dad- you smeared it already didn’t you?”

“....Nope.”

Fatgum: I'm not gonna do it, it just seemed like a good option. 

Fatgum not even two seconds later after seeing a trans kid crying: now carrying said child on his shoulders while his spouse is chuckling in a corner after signing adoption papers I did it.

This man would get his kids almost anything they wanted. Especially kids with ADD/ADHD/Autism/Tourettes/Anxiety who need stim toys.

Kid: chewing on their nails.

Fatgum: here take this stim toy, and this one, you chew this one so that might help-

Kid ends up with more stim toys than they can count.

Fatgum: just doing his job 

The Daddy Issues Gang: Hi dad- oh shit wait- Hi- I- fuck- trauma ensues. crying

Fatgum: grabs the daddy issues gang we're going to the nearest courtroom say hello to your new father its me im the father ok lets go.

Kid: um, dad can I talk to you? 

 Fatgum, turning around quickly: yes? 

 Me: ‘he moved so quick, he's mad at me, I'm gonna get yelled at’ Sorry, sorry! 

Fatgum: uh, no. I'm getting you ice cream and a new stuffed animal no questions asked

He'd just know when something's wrong, and he’d be great at comforting.

His usual style of comfort is to let the kid sit on his stomach and tell him what’s wrong. His body is one giant pillow for his kids to lay on, he can fit at least eight of them if they cuddle in closely.

Once filmed a commercial dressed as the Cool-Aid man, and all of his kids were in the commercial.

Fatgum: Busts down wall  “OH YEAH!”

Director: “And CUT! Okay, try a little more aggressive-”

Fatgum, in tears: “I don’t wanna scare my kids.”

As stated before, if anyone makes his kids feel bad he’s punching them to the ground, but sometimes he’s not in a position where he can do that. Like if a Karen mom ever comes over.

"Linda stop bringing lemon squares if you're going to talk about my son that way because they're just as sour as your attitude."

Fatgum but he slaps the toxic members of your family and tells them to do better or he's taking you.

Then takes you anyway because you prefer him.

Fatgum with a sweater that says ‘mr dad guy on it’

Fatgum definitely watches ATLA, and quotes Uncle Iroh daily. When his kids are minding their own business they suddenly hear

“Leaves from the vine... falling so slow...” 

INAUDIBLE CHAOS AND PANIC

Fatgum agency cosplayed ATLA characters on Halloween.

Fatgum was Iroh.

Kirishima was Sokka.

Tamaki was either Momo or Appa.

Maybe get a couple others in on it too, Mirio could be Aang and if Kirishima convinces Todoroki to join for a while he’d totally be Zuko.

Fatgum lets his kids squish his face.

Fatgum used to work with a hero who was hard of hearing, so he learned sign language to help them, and he’s got the skill saved in case one of his kids might be deaf.

So one day, Kirishima invites Bakugou on patrol with him, and we all love that headcanon of Bakugou going deaf, so when he gets pissed at something, he starts insulting everyone around him in SL.

Fatgum notices and starts signing back to him.

YOU’RE ALL MOTHERFUCKERS AND I HATE YOU ALL!

Hey, now, let’s calm down and not call everyone motherfuckers.

FUCK YOU TOO

Bakugou...

Everyone thinks that they’re doing magic, because they’re making all these shapes with their hands and keep looking offended at each other.

Now, Fatgum tries his gosh darn hardest to keep up with the memes, so when his kids come home with good grades, he says “That’s so pog, Kiddo!”

All of his kids are embarrassed.

In the middle of a battle, he throws Kirishima at a villain and they both scream “YEET!” the villain afterwords forever lives in fear of the word ‘yeet’ because he thinks it’ll result in a human rock being thrown at his face.

Fatgum can’t text very well, because his fingers are just too damn big-

sonhsisntextsblooklikehthis'

Translation: so his texts look like this

you learn to understand his texts

Someone better get him a large tablet instead of a phone

If he gets married after he adopts the kids, there’s going to be a huge competition over who does the rings and who does the flowers etc.

If any of his kid’s ever bring home a romantic partner, you can bet your ass he’ll be all over them.

“What’s your average grade?”

“E-eighty percent sir!”

“And do you take sports?”

“No sir, I wish to be a biologist.”

“I see, I see...”

“DAD, YOU AREN”T INTERVIEWING MY PARTNER, ARE YOU? YOU SCARED OFF THE LAST THREE I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THAT AGAIN!”

“SORRY, KIDDO! I’LL LET THEM GO NOW! I’ve got my fucking eyes on you. Don’t screw this up.”

Hope y’all enjoy this, if y’all want I can write some headcanons for if Fatgum’s kid becomes a villain-

[ditttiii]

Brothers Conflict || 03.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU)  (I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER THREE

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: Language (sfw)

Masterlist

"How about this?"

"Nah, it's too sideways," you reply from where you are standing near the doorway of your bedroom.

"Right or left?" Sunmi asks, as she grips the frame and distances her torso from the wall, trying to see for herself where she should shift the frame. From the looks of it, she's failing spectacularly at it.

Suppressing a snort, you answer ‘left’ and hum when she tilts the frame and you are finally satisfied with its position on the wall. Walking back in, you marvel at the sheer grandness of your room for the umpteenth time as you take in all the space around you. Roughly four times the size of your old bedroom, it was huge. 

Floor to ceiling windows on the side opposite the bedroom door, before which was your queen-sized bed. A decent size, intricately designed bedside table beside it, with the floor underneath covered with a soft, plush rosy white carpet. A walk-in closet the size of your old bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, curtains heavy enough to suffocate and kill you if they were to ever fall upon your body; your new bedroom screams rich.  

It would be a lie to say that you don't feel intimidated. Raised in a middle-class, humble neighbourhood, you hadn't in your wildest dreams ever imagined living in a room like this. But here you are, soaking in the reality of the moment; and realising that it feels like something between a dream and a nightmare. 

Nearly four hours since you first started unpacking, and five since you had first met your new family, most of your room was organised. All boxes untaped and emptied as you and Sunmi worked hard to make the unnecessarily large, empty room less of a hotel room and more like the bedroom of a 19-year-old girl. 

Sighing, you push the last book of your novel collection into the bookshelf. Made from some sort of whitewood, much like everything else, it was designed intricately and looming large over your small shadow. 

"This is it."

Slouching, you fall onto your back, eyes straying to the ceiling above and the textures carved onto it, refusing to reply to Sunmi’s statement. Agreeing would mean that you'd have to let her go and you don't think you can, the isolation and abnormality of the situation already sinking in and scaring you. 

 "Mmn," you reply noncommittally instead. 

A long sigh, and then your best friend is curling on the floor beside you, her hand snaking around yours, fingers intertwining, as she silently lets you know that she is here for you. Repressing the tears you can already feel trying to escape your eyes, you squeeze her hand back. 

The clammy, ice-cold touch of your skin against hers goes unmentioned as you both lay there in silence. 

"I'll call you every day," you whisper, your voice choked as your death grip around Sunmi's waist tightens, and she lets out a strangled moan before pushing you away. 

"Woman, stop being so dramatic! You'll see me back in college every freaking day once summer ends and you know I'll come to see you whenever you want me to, the hour-long ride be damned," Sunmi chides. There’s no bite in her words, and her voice wobbles despite her trying to act tough, but you don't call her out on it and only nod. 

"You better, you airhead, lord knows you'll probably sob your body dry without seeing me every day." 

A giggle comes out of your best friend's tall, lean body, one you are entirely too envious of, and her eyes soften, your smile softening with it. 

"Take care, will ya?" 

"Always," you whisper back, and with one last kiss thrown over her shoulder, she leaves. Her figure grows smaller and farther with every step she takes, and you bite your lip to prevent a call from tumbling out. Not moving an inch until you hear the distant roar of her car driving away, you finally shut the door when you no longer hear or see her car. 

Suddenly you feel scarily small. Like a tiny, irrelevant existence born in a world too large and glamorous; a world where you evidently do not belong. 

Meandering through the floor, you gaze at the picture frames on the wall as though you are the actress of some old seventies cinema, bemoaning the absence of a long lost lover. 

Dramatic, yes, but you have always been more on the theatrical spectrum of humankind, and it isn't like there is much you can do right now anyway. Not unless you want to hole up in your room and stew in your sadness alone. And even though that might sound appealing to most (considering what your room now looks like), it wasn't something you felt like doing at the moment. 

So you mindlessly gaze at the pictures, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow in the darkening hallway as you try to find some semblance of familiarity, a speck of comfort or intimacy. 

"Y/n?" a soft voice calls out to you, and you twist on your heels, your eyes meeting with those of Yoongi. 

"Yoongi-oppa." Voice coming out soft, your words fade at the end as your eyes track the way Yoongi's face glows when the rays of the setting sun hit his skin. Long messy dark blonde hair makes space for his glittering curvy eyes to shine through, and your breath gets caught somewhere in your chest when you look at the vision that was Min Yoongi. 

"Exploring?" he asks casually, but even without knowing him for all that long, you can detect the underlying layer of concern in his voice. You don't know if he is being open with you right now, or if you can just read him well, but the concern makes your heart feel a little warmer. 

"Something like that." Your answer is ambiguous, but Yoongi doesn't ask you to elaborate, so you don't add anything more, turning back and looking at the pictures again instead.

"This something you enjoy?" Yoongi asks as he moves beside you, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pants, and leans; making himself comfortable against the wall.  

Your eyes stray to him. "Sounds like you don't."

"Not really my forte, I can appreciate it from a distance, sure, but not an enthusiast," he replies, the back of his head hitting the wall behind as he looks up at you. 

Humming, you shrug. "Same, I guess, it's just fascinating to me. I wish I was smart enough to understand what half of these actually mean, but I am not, so I just appreciate the beauty and move on."

"Fair enough." 

You nod and let the silence reign again, but it's a comfortable silence, the kind of quiet where you are both lost in your own thoughts but at the same time appreciate the company of the other.  

Slowly the sun sets behind you, and the glassed walls shimmer one last time before the ceiling lights are switched on, bathing the entire floor in warm but bright light. 

Yoongi had been silent the entire time as you explored the floor like a child in a zoo, poking and prodding the potted plants, oo-ing and aah-ing over the art around you, fascinated and occupied with the attractions around.   

But when the lights switch on, he clears his throat and gets up from the couch he had taken a seat on some time ago, head tilting as he wordlessly asks you a question. You nod back and smile, making your way to him as you finally get ready to spend some time with the rest of your newly acquired family. 

As you both make your way to the main hall, you don't miss how your heart is feeling much lighter now. The silent company that Yoongi had provided you with seems to have put you at ease and calmed your racing thoughts. 

Walking into the kitchen alone, you try your best to make as little noise as possible. Yoongi, much to your displeasure, had promised that he'd meet you out in a few minutes only to disappear inside of his bedroom and leave you to your own devices.  

The sudden bout of bravado from earlier had left your body too, in its place leaving raring, gut-twisting anxiety. 

Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, you take out a bottle and pour yourself a glass. The chilled water slides down your throat, quenching your thirst, and you let out a satisfied sigh, smacking your lips in contentment after. 

"That thirsty, huh?" 

You jump, startled, heart racing and in your throat, as your gaze snaps to the doorway and finds Seokjin standing there. Suit coat hung over his left arm, and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, he was clearly returning back home after a workday. 

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit outta me!" 

Your brain to mouth filter is seemingly not working after being startled. Feeling anxious was a problem enough, but being scared after was evidently enough to send your last two brain cells out the window. Your common sense and the knowledge that Kim Seokjin was now your stepbrother, eldest stepbrother, flying out the window along with them. 

You hear crickets chirping in the distance as an awkward silence blankets the room, and in that moment you want to die. Spontaneously combust and float away into thin air, disappear, dissolve, vanish—die. 

"I am so sorry, can we pretend I didn't say that, “you voice out meekly, your eyes avoiding Seokjin’s and instead finding purchase on the wall behind him, seemingly fascinated by the utter whiteness of it. 

Hearing a chuckle ring and break the awkwardness in the air, you shift your gaze to the source of said chuckle and catch your eldest brother's gaze. "It's alright Y/n, I get that this is a big adjustment. Please don't feel like you need to rush on anybody's accord, take your time."

And then Kim Seokjin smiles—his pouty, full lips stretched into a small but ridiculously warm smile, and something in your chest clenches at the sight of it. Warning bells ring in the back of your mind, and you squash the thoughts threatening to come forward, their not-so-appropriate nature resulting in an immediate rejection from your end. 

Mumbling a thank you, you let him know you'll be down soon and then dash to your bedroom, slamming the door closed once you're inside and sinking down onto the floor. 

What the hell was that!?

Raking a hand through your hair, you groan in annoyance, wincing when said hand gets stuck in a tangle and pulls a few strands loose.

Looking back at your impression so far in front of Seokjin, one of your seven step brothers, it had been nothing but absolutely marvellous. So you can't imagine what could possibly go wrong when you sit down at the dinner table and are surrounded by all seven of them. 

Nothing, nothing at all, nope-nada-zilch!

Frustrated, you slide a hand down your face, hoping to calm down, but the move only ends up irritating your skin under. The day has been long, and all that you pray for now is that it ends soon. Your bed, which from the looks of it was fit for royalty, was beckoning you over too. 

With one last huff, you are pushing yourself up onto your feet and to the bathroom to splash some water, before you go and join the rest of your new family. 

Pulling the chair in, you wring your hands nervously under the table, away from any prying eyes. One by one, the rest of your family filters in and takes a seat; Seokjin and Yoongi both pick their seats at the two heads of the table. Hoseok and Namjoon sit on either side of you, with Jimin plopping himself down opposite you, and getting flanked by Jungkook and Taehyugn on either side. 

Not much conversation had taken place as they picked their seats, everyone sufficiently tired enough after a long day, but they had smiled or nodded at you when they first entered the dining room. 

'Well most of them at least,'  you think, eyeing the two youngest, who had both refused to give you even a cursory glance, resulting in your smile going unseen and unreciprocated. Their attitude, however, doesn't bother you too much at this point; as it was, they were virtually nothing more than strangers to you. 

Conversations pick up around you, and you feel slightly out of place, as though you are a guest over for dinner rather than their new stepsister, but the feeling doesn't last long, because both Namjoon and Hoseok soon pull  you into a conversation. Inquiries come forth about your day, and how your unpacking had gone.

The conversation is mostly superficial, nothing too emotionally challenging; neither of them ask how it feels being a part of their family or something like that, and you are relieved. Grateful, because you don't know if you'd be able to answer those questions anyway. The whole situation is still very odd no matter how many minutes of the day pass. 

Someone clears their throat, and your eyes snap to Seokjin, who was pushing his chair back and picking up his glass, the red wine inside sloshing with the movement. 

"I've done this before, and yet it never gets any less nerve-wracking," Seokjin starts, and your eyes furrow in confusion, but he continues before you can think about it any more. "Y/n," he says and tips his head in your direction, "I know this must feel a little scary—actually, scratch that, you're probably terrified right now, and that's okay.” he pauses, and takes a breath before continuing, “I'm sure it feels crazy suddenly being thrust into an already established family and being told that now you're one of them, and I just want you to know that I get it. We get it, and we are here for you. If you don’t want to accept us as family, that’s okay too; all of us would understand and support whatever decision you make. I just...” Sighing, he locks eyes with you.

 “...I just hope you can let us in eventually, family or not." 

Seokjin's eyes bore into yours as he says this, stressing the 'us', and you gulp, feeling the back of your throat tighten at his words. Sensing the fine thread of control that you had over your emotions loosening, you swivel your gaze to the table instead, nodding, your vision growing blurry as you try to blink back the burn in your eyes. 

The room goes quiet, as the boys give you time to collect yourself—or sob, you don't know, but you appreciate the consideration nonetheless.

It was going good, it really was. You were holding on, no matter how precarious the hold was, you were holding on. Grasping onto that last string of control and restraint you had with all of your might. 

But then Hoseok is wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, letting you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, and the string snaps, his neck growing wet as tears streamed down your face and slid down his skin. 

For a few minutes, you forget that you were now surrounded by strangers who you had to accept and call your family. For a few false, delusional minutes you forget that they don't know you, that the care they were showing was genuine and not something they were obligated to. That the one whose hands were drawing circles across your back, the one whose voice was whispering reassurances in your ear—stupid sweet-nothings that you would tell a small child to make them feel better, actually gave a shit about you.  

You forget the reality and slip into a safe headspace, letting the warmth of another human encircle you, hold you, wrap you in its cocoon as you weep. 

A/N: dedicating this chapter to @mel-gonzalez07​, one of my oldest, most loyal readers, and more than anything else an amazing friend. ily angel 💖  

Y/n is going through some shitt here. Imagine being thrust into a dynamic that has been established for years, and then having to act like you are meant to be a part of it. 

The taglist for the story can be found:- here. A kind reminder that tumblr sometimes doesn’t give an alert for a tag notification, but you’ll find the notification in your notification dash. So, check it once a week as I usually update weekly.

Feedback means the world to me, so tell me what you thought. What would you do if you were in oc’s shoes?        

Until next time! Take care you sweet soul and Oo! Go stream folklore 💖 

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07​​ @favsssxx​​ @imluckybitches​​ @nomimits7​​ @alex4243​​  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @joonsinnerchild​​ @iconicgguk​​ @untamedfaith​​ @kaheryn​​  @nottodayjjk​​ @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey​​  @beautyyounggirl​​  @blossoming-cherrytrees​​  @seoul9711​​ ​​ @btsismybiass @toochie-too​  @sugakookie0698 @maboiisuga @kurohas-world @namseokiesmoonv @kerikaaria @chiidbits @girlyyzzyz @loveyoongles @btsfeelzies @knjkitten​ @honeyspillings @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​ @starrykook97  @xanny91 @leilalago @jiminie-08 @voguejoonie​ @lovelikeyouwant

[teamhappyme]

peonies

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none

a/n: happy valentine’s day my friends!!! here is a cute lil Carisi fic that made me feel a lil less blah today. i love and appreciate you all so so much!

****

“Liv, I’m gonna bring these witness statements to Carisi before I head out. You need me to drop off anything else?”

“Nope, just those statements for him. And thank you for dropping them off, y/n. I can get home and spend some of the day with Noah.” You saw her put the chocolate heart in her bag, along with the dog stuffed animal she picked up from a vendor earlier today. 

“He’s gonna love that dog.” You commented, and she looked up and smiled. 

“I hope so. And hopefully it will put off the argument for getting a real dog a little longer.”

You laughed, knowing how much every little kid wants a dog. But stuffed animals were always a good second. 

The two of you walked out of the precinct together, both surprised that you were getting out of here while the sun was still out. 

“Tell Noah I said Happy Valentine’s Day. I owe him and the Rollins girls an ice cream date.”

She smiled. “I will. Have a good night, y/n.” 

The walk to the courthouse was cold, and you passed by at least a dozen vendors with Valentine’s day themed food and goodies. You made it almost the whole walk without caving and buying something for yourself, but the cute little puppy on the styrofoam hot chocolate cup was calling your name. 

And of course you bought one for Carisi too.

You made your way through the maze that is the DA’s office, finally making your way into Carisi’s small office. But the ADA in question was nowhere to be found.

You placed the hot chocolate on his desk, smiling as you saw drawings from Jesse and Billie taped to the file cabinet, Jesse’s little ‘Uncle Sonny’ handwriting too cute to handle. He’d only been moved into the office for a few weeks, and it looked like he was finally settled in. You heard the horror stories of having to move out the copy machines, but it all seemed worth it.

He had his degrees hanging on the wall, along with a quote from the declaration of independence, because this man lived and breathed the law. 

You turned to walk back to the chairs, when a picture frame on his desk caught your eye. You’d seen the one of his beautiful goddaughter’s Billie and Jesse, and knew there were a few of the giant Carisi clan scattered around. 

But this one was in a clean black frame, and you had to do a double take to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. 

It was you in the picture frame. 

Actually, it was you and Sonny in the frame, laughing uncontrollably with disco lights in the background. 

You recognized the venue immediately, it was the indoor roller rink from Noah’s fifth birthday party. You hadn’t gone roller skating since you were a kid, and you were extremely apprehensive to get back on the skates. But Sonny convinced you to try again, sticking to your side the entire time.

The picture in question was after you had slipped. You were preparing to meet the floor in a painful thud, instead you felt two arms wrap around you, keeping you close and still on two feet. It was Sonny. 

You didn’t know this picture even existed, otherwise you would’ve gotten your hands on it pretty quick. You couldn’t help the smile spread across your face knowing that Sonny wanted it on his desk, to see your laughing faces everyday.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped up to the doorway, Sonny standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

“Hey.” You stepped out from behind his desk, pulling the file he needed out of your backpack. “Um, I brought the witness statements for the Carson case. There’s quite a few here, so hopefully you can get some of them to testify.”

He took the file from your hands, placing it on his desk. “Thanks, I’m getting ready to prep with Hannah, so this will be helpful.”

“Good, that’s good.” You said while running a shaky hand through your hair. 

You know he must have seen you looking at the picture of the two of you, and now you didn’t know what to say. He was carrying a bouquet of beautiful flowers on Valentine’s day; clearly he had some plans tonight.

“Those flowers are beautiful, you have a lucky Valentine tonight?” You asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between you. 

He smiled, his turn now to run a hand through his quaffed hair. “They’re for you, actually.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting that to be his response. 

“Liv texted me, gave me a warning that you were headed over. I would’ve been here when you got here, but I know you don’t like roses, and it took me four different shops to find pink and white peonies. Thought I was gonna have to fight the guy next to me for ‘em, but he grabbed the tulips instead.” 

He extended the bouquet to you, and gently took the flowers into your own hands. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite flower. When did you even let that comment about roses slip out? 

“Sonny, you didn’t have to get me flowers.” You commented, but couldn’t resist sticking your nose in to smell the fresh flowers.

He smiled, glad that you liked the flowers, while shrugging off his overcoat. “I wanted to. You’re working on Valentine’s day, just wanted to do something special for you.”

“Well this is definitely more than special. No one’s ever bought me a bouquet of my favorite flowers before. Not even someone who has a picture of me on their desk.”

You saw his cheeks turn red before he dipped his head toward the floor. “I figured you saw that.”

You placed the flowers down next to your bag, joining him behind his desk. You grabbed the picture as he finally brought his head up to look at you, a smile still resting on your face. 

“I really like this picture. I’m just mad that you kept it to yourself, I would’ve loved to have a copy for my own desk.” 

“I think I could get you a copy. But you’ll have to thank Dodds for the photography skills.” Of course it was Mike Dodds that withheld the image from you. 

“I’ll be sure to send him a text.” You said and placed the image back on his desk. You just now noticed the files piling up on his desk, and spared a glance at your watch; it was only five oclock. He had a long night ahead of him. “Well, I won’t stand in the way of you and your important ADA work.”

“Y/n/n,” He grabbed your hand as you took a step away from him, and you turned to look back at him. “The files can wait ‘til tomorrow. Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

You smiled. “Would I like to go to dinner with the only man who’s ever remembered my favorite flower?” He laughed as you gave his hand a squeeze. “I would love to, Sonny.”

You gathered your belongings, making sure there was enough room for you to carry the flowers in your hand. The two of you walked out of the courthouse together, the sun setting over one hogan place as you exited. 

You were halfway down the steps when he stopped, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He started rambling about how it would be impossible to find a restaurant on Valentine’s day, how he was an awful planner, and now you’d have to wait in the cold for hours. 

But all you could focus on was the way the sun was hitting him, covering him in an orange glow, his hair slightly fussed by the new york city breeze. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t let him stand there without letting him know.

He continued to ramble as you took a step toward him, complaining that you were going to end up eating hot dogs from a vendor.

“Dominick,” you said, and the sound of his real name leaving your lips got him to shut up. 

You reached up, running a hand through his fussed hair in an attempt to straighten it out. Once you were satisfied with the outcome, you rested a hand on his chest, as his free hand found your waist. He smiled before leaning down, your lips meeting his in an incredibly sweet first kiss. 

You pulled away after a few seconds, not wanting to cause a scene on the courthouse steps, and matched the smile that was still on his face.

“How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” He asked, his hand finding your own, linking your fingers together as you resumed walking down the steps. He gave your hand a squeeze, and you couldn’t help but look up and smile at him.

“Pizza and peonies, what more could a girl ask for?”

****

[knox-knocks]

a hunger inside

an among us au >:) tw: death and violence (no foxes die, only ocs)

read it on ao3

Andrew finds him in the hallway, attempting an escape through the vent in the floor. Andrew’s eyes flick to the corner of the room where the camera is, but it is dark and lifeless, no blinking red light to indicate that someone is watching. Of course, that is why Andrew chose to linger in this part of the ship, after all. No one is ever watching these cameras, so he is free to smoke his cigarettes in peace.

“The vents, huh?” he says and leans against the cool metal wall of the ship and lights the cigarette. He’s almost out. As soon as his job here is done, he’ll have to stop by the closest pit stop for another pack.

Orange jumps at the sound of Andrew’s voice, twisting around in the tiny space the vents allow. It’s not much bigger than him, and he has to wiggle through in order to get out. Andrew watches him, cigarette forgotten between his fingertips, and takes note of the dark red staining his orange space suit, seeping into the fabric.

Andrew tips his head and behind Orange he can see two feet sticking out from the darkness, dripping the same red liquid that’s currently splashed all over him. Andrew is no idiot, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that the liquid is blood and the legs belong to a dead man.

“Faster way to get around,” Orange – Josten, he remembers – says after a tense pause. Andrew can’t see his expression past the dark screen of his visor, instead his own unimpressed face is reflected back at him, distorted in the curve of the helmet.

Andrew has never seen the man underneath the orange suit. He’s been aboard the Space Enterprise for a couple months now and hasn’t so much as taken off his helmet. Which wasn’t a cause for alarm – not at first – because technically it was a rule that you had to be wearing your space suit at all times in case of emergencies, though no one actually did. Except for Josten.

What struck Andrew as strange was that Josten didn’t take it off even to eat. In fact, Andrew has never seen him eat with the others in the cafeteria, not once, in the months since he’s joined the crew.

“I suppose you’re the one the others are worrying about, then,” Andrew says and takes a drag off his cig before it dies. “The imposter.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” Josten says, neatly dodging the question. His voice is staticky over the mic, more artificial than human.

Andrew looks past at the victim half-eaten by the darkness. Josten subtly shifts his weight, an unsubtle attempt to hide the body, but the damage is done and Andrew has already seen it.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Andrew says. He stares at where he thinks Josten’s eyes should be, and meets his own even expression instead.

Josten doesn’t move so Andrew sighs and pushes up from where he’s leaning against the wall. Josten’s back straightens, and he makes an abortive move, as if reaching for a weapon. Said weapon must still be stuck in whatever poor sap whose blood saturated the floor, because Josten’s hands remain empty, and Andrew unstabbed.

“Go get cleaned up,” Andrew says and stubs out his cigarette against his fatigues. The ashes smear against the black fabric, near invisible. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Why?” Josten says in that robotic voice of his.

“Because now you owe me one,” says Andrew.

“I thought we were even.” Josten mimes a movement reminiscent of raising a cigarette to his mouth, a clumsy mimicry in his bulky suit. “‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’”

“Yes,” Andrew says. “But now I’m covering for you as well. So you owe me.”

It is eerie, the way Andrew can’t see his face to read his reactions, and wonders if this is how his crewmates feel about him. Andrew, always so tightlipped and apathetic, even when the crew started getting picked off one by one. He didn’t join up too much longer after the others, but he’d picked up on their unease almost immediately. Andrew doesn’t care though; he isn’t here to make friends. He is here to do his job.

Josten is the first to break. He turns, stiff, and walks down the hall to the sleeping chambers. Andrew watches him go and waits a few more minutes to give him a bit more time. He’s not really sure why. He could have left when he saw Josten climbing into the vent and pretend he never saw the body, or he could have simply reported exactly what he witnessed.

But it often gets boring on the Enterprise, and perhaps Andrew is intrigued, maybe he wants to see where this goes. Plus, it might come in handy to have the resident murderer indebted to him.

Andrew reports the body over the comm link and makes his way to the cafeteria.

_ _

It was Green who was killed, though Andrew never bothered to learn the man’s real name. The remaining crewmates are dragged from their tasks to deliberate over the murder, while Andrew watches over the chaos and waits for Josten to join them. In the end he points his finger at Red, who has no alibi except for her claim to be down in Navigation at the time of the murder. But the others do not listen and in their panic, they are quick to vote her out.

Her screams of terror and pleading are cut short by the hiss of the chamber door sealing shut. It is Yellow who slams the ejection button, and Andrew watches as Red is spat into the black vacuum of space. Yellow flinches when the air is forced out of her lungs and her blood boils in her veins, but Andrew does not.

Ten crewmates turn to eight in a day, and the others are soothed enough to go back to their assignments. At least until Andrew finds Josten stuffing Yellow’s crumpled form into one of the cupboards in Storage a few days later.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Andrew says smoothly, and Josten flips around, quite literally caught in the act. He’s still holding the knife, but he lowers it when he sees Andrew.

“I owe you two?” he says.

“One,” Andrew replies. Josten tips his head, a strangely animal action with the giant space helmet on. “I want your name.”

Josten hesitates.

“Your full name.”

“Neil,” he says slowly, as if trying it out. “Neil Josten.”

“Neil,” Andrew repeats, and he quite likes the taste of it on his tongue. It tastes a little of danger, like the iron-tang of blood. “Now show me your face, and we will be even.”

Neil is slow in taking off his helmet, and Andrew watches in rapt attention as the vents blow out a stream of oxygen and steam as the seals release and Neil twists the helmet off.

Andrew wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Neil looks normal. At least, he has a nose and a mouth, and reddish-brown hair falling into his eyes. It’s as his gaze is tracking the movement of his auburn curls that Andrew spots the reason Neil was so hesitant to take off his helmet.

His eyes are a bright, crimson red, glittering and dark under the fringe of his hair. Undeniably alien.

Andrew takes a step forward and grabs Neil by the chin. He brings his face down closer to his own and moves it side to side, studying him. Aside from the eyes, his face is also marked by deep gouges and circular scars on either side of his face. He is very attractive, and Andrew feels a slow, tight pull in his navel. He would quite like to take this man apart, bit by bit. Neil is silent as he lets Andrew look his fill.

“There’s a vent in the corner of the room, to the left,” Andrew says, releasing Neil’s face. “I’d be quick if I were you.”

Neil narrows those red eyes of his before reattaching his helmet and following Andrew’s directions. He has the vent open and one leg in when he turns back and says, “Why do you never talk to any of the others?”

Andrew gives him a thin, close-mouthed smile and says nothing.

He doesn’t report the body. He lets Purple find it, and he and Neil meet the others in the cafeteria together. His suit his clean, no traces of the blood that had been previously splattered down his front. His helmet is on, but he’s not the only one hiding their face so no one mentions it.

“Minyard,” the man in the white suit says. Andrew is pretty sure his name is Folkson or Falkner or something. His face his pale, eyes stretched wide, and his lips tremble as he talks. He’s the oldest out of all of them, and has taken the helm. “Where were you?”

“With Josten,” Andrew says. “We were clearing out the oxygen tanks in O2.”

“That’s not usually a two-person job,” Lime says suspiciously.

Andrew levels a look at her. “It is if you do it properly.”

“We need to figure this out,” Cyan snaps, and Andrew wracks his brain for their name. He comes up blank. “We’ve been getting picked off for weeks and we still have no fucking clue as to why.”

“They might not be human,” Pink says in his quiet voice, thin as a thread. He clutches his gloves in his hands, turning them over and over. “What if this is a game to them?”

Andrew hedges a look toward Neil but he is still, silent.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cyan says, and rolls their eyes. “We need to stay focused before we lose the mission.”

“You give a lot of orders and not a lot of answers,” Folkson or Falkner gripes.

“I could say the same for you,” Cyan replies coolly.

Andrew lets them bicker. He said his piece, and both he and Neil are cleared. After all, Pink saw them on the cameras, and they were no one near the body when Purple found it. In fact, no one was around, and soon the suspicion turns to Purple. Their pleas fall on deaf ears as they are locked in the ejection chamber and Cyan presses the button.

The others whisper around them, desperate prayers to a God that has no place in the depths of space. Let us be right, they murmur. Please, this time, let us be right.

_ _

The first time Andrew kisses Neil, they are in the showers and he has just scrubbed the last of Falkner’s blood off of him. Red turns to pink as it runs off of him, over the white tiles, and down the drain. Andrew knows someone will stumble across the body and report it soon, but he doesn’t care.

Neil’s voice is different when he’s not wearing the helmet, and so is his gasp when Andrew pushes him against the still-dripping wall and presses their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He has a grip on his t-shirt, one in his hair, and he angles their mouths together in a way that has Neil scrabbling against the wall for support.

“Andrew,” he says, and the sound is long, drawn out. Neil tips his head back against the wall and Andrew mouths at his neck, his skin warm from the blood pumping life through his body.

Neil is a killer, the imposter among them, but his skin still bruises and his body still reacts to Andrew’s touch. He kisses him, again and again and again, each one harsher than the last.

Andrew only pulls away when Neil’s tongue darts out to touch his bottom lip. He takes a step back. He needs to be more careful. He shouldn’t be letting Neil get close like this, it’s too dangerous. Too easy to slip up.

Neil’s eyes are blown, his cheeks flushed. “I think we should blame Lime,” he says, breathless.

Andrew presses another kiss to his mouth and resists the urge to sink his teeth into Neil’s lip. Dangerous.

Once under control, Andrew says, “There will be four of us left, after this.”

Neil nods, suddenly solemn. He almost looks regretful. He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Let’s go,” he says without meeting Andrew’s eyes, and Andrew has the feeling that he was going to say something else. Before he can ask, though, Neil is already pulling on his gear.

In the end, they can’t decide who to eject, and Lime is safe. For now.

_ _

“I didn’t do that one,” Neil says quietly, peering down at Lime’s twisted body at the bottom of the stairs. Her neck is broken, blonde hair falling over a face slackened by death, though still etched with fear. Andrew imagines her eyes widening, mouth opening in a scream as hands wrap around her throat, shoving her down the stairs. The image is not difficult to conjure.

“Must have tripped,” Andrew replies. He looks at Neil in the corner of his eyes, and a thrill goes through him when he sees the now-familiar bloodred of his gaze.

“I suppose we report this to the others,” Neil says the same moment Cyan enters the room with Pink in tow.

“Get away from him,” Cyan snarls, and it takes a moment for Andrew to realize that they’re talking to him. “He is the imposter. You – Orange.”

Desperation makes people clumsy, sloppy, and Andrew sees that they are very afraid. Neil looks alarmed – and extremely guilty standing over the body. Never mind Andrew was also caught red-handed, Cyan and Pink surround Neil and Neil only.

So they don’t suspect Andrew at all.

“You killed Gen,” Cyan says, voice shrill. They leap at Neil, and with Pink’s help they corner him against the wall as Andrew watches on. “And I’m willing to bet you were plotting to kill Black too. Lure him down and execute him here.”

“What of it?” Neil says through clenched teeth. Cyan has his arms pinned to his sides, and there is nowhere for him to go. They force him back, crowding him into the ejection chamber. Neil jerks in their grip, but Cyan holds tight. Pink grapples with the panel on the wall to open the door, but his shaking hands slide helplessly over the smooth panel. He finally finds a grip and gets the door open.

“Look at his eyes,” Pink cries. “I told you. I told you he wasn’t human.”

“Shut up,” Cyan grits and shoves Neil into the chamber. Neil struggles, bucking in a last-ditch effort to get out of Cyan’s grip, but it’s useless. They found their imposter, and now they’re going to kill him. His wide red eyes meet Andrew’s calm ones, and he rams his body into Cyan’s, desperate.

Cyan grunts at the impact and looks over their shoulder at Andrew. “Black,” They hiss. “Minyard, help – ”

Andrew smiles, revealing the rows of razor-sharp teeth he has so carefully hid from everyone until now. Pink sees it first and screams, but it’s cut off when Andrew lunges and sinks his fangs in his slender neck. Blood gushes into his mouth, and it tastes so sweet. Pinks chokes, hands fluttering ineffectually at his sides as Andrew tears out his throat.

Cyan watches with horror, but before they can do anything, Neil is already there, his arms wrapped around their neck. He forces their head back at such a steep angle that Cyan cries out in pain, and shakes them like a ragdoll. It is easy now that they have the element of surprise, and Neil snaps Cyan’s neck with ease. They slump to the ground and Neil stares at their body, chest heaving from the fight.

“You,” he says, still out of breath, eyes traveling up to Andrew’s. “You’re the other one.”

Andrew licks his lips, blood dripping from his face, his sharpened teeth, and Neil tracks the movement. “Yes,” he says simply.

Neil grins. “Good. I would have hated killing you.”

“You never would have gotten close.” Andrew steps over Pink’s still-twitching body and hooks his fingers in the thick collar of Neil’s space suit. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s eyes are dilated, black enveloping red. “You already know my answer,” he says, voice heavy.

Andrew’s grip on him tightens. “Say it anyway.”

“Yes,” Neil says and Andrew yanks him in for a fierce kiss. Neil makes a sound low in his throat, guttural, and Andrew swallows it. He’s sure he nicks Neil with his teeth now that he’s not so concerned about keeping them hidden, but Neil doesn’t seem to mind. He is happy licking the blood from Andrew’s lips.

Neil’s eyes flash red and Andrew’s teeth bare in a sharp smile. Game over.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x15: Gimme Shelter

Then:

Dean used his words to save the world once

Now:

At a food bank community center, three teens dole out food while stressing out about one attendant who’s breaking their cleanliness rules. Connor heads over to talk to the woman, but is stopped by the center’s pastor. The pastor challenges Connor’s motivation. ”We have rules, but we also have spirit too, right?” The pastor tells Connor to lead with compassion, so Connor brings the woman food instead of kicking her out of the building. 

Later, Connor walks home. Much like all other cold open walks, this one also involves a solitary alley. He hears someone calling his name. Trying to find the source of the voice, he trips and finds a talking teddy bear, and a metal hook around his neck.

Dean and Sam discuss research. Sam’s found a non-case, while Dean’s hit the jackpot in Atlantic City. Specifically, an unexplained blackout has him thinking that Amara’s enjoying her new gambling addiction on the East Coast. 

Cas pops up and thinks he should go with the brothers, but they tell him to stay put and babysit Jack. I say TFW is just better together, but I’m not writing this episode. Hrmph. The brothers are packed and ready to go, but Jack stops them in the war room to ask about the case Sam found.

Sam tells him it’s nothing. Dean encourages Cas and Jack to investigate --to keep Jack busy. Cas seems skeptical, but Dean insists.

Agents Swift and Lovato meet with the local law enforcement to learn more about the case. Sweet Jesus is it cute that Cas continues to use pop-star names. It’s cute that Jack takes after his father with the upside down badge. It’s cute that Jack recognizes the teddy bear and says he has one (Did Cas buy it for him? He has a history of buying stuffed animals for his quasi-children.) 

The sheriff tells them about the victim, and how the word ‘Liar’ was carved into him. 

Jack posits that this all seems demonic. 

Cut to Cas digging into the ground at a crossroads. Time to get some information. Cas buries a picture of himself that Dean took when he was wearing a cowboy hat (Don’t worry, Dean still has his copy, and keeps it safe…. for reasons.) and Jack sets up a social media account. He’s WAY under 13 years old, so he needs a parent’s permission. Cas grants it easily. (Also, ALSO!! ALSO, there are NOT too many cats on the internet. This writing is so OOC, smh.) 

A demon appears. 

He’s channeling his inner Crowley, and I suddenly miss the bugger for a moment. Zach, the demon, is very bored and desperately wants something to do. He’s not really British and tells the duo that no one's making demon deals right now. Rowena’s of the philosophy that “people will end up where they belong.” Cas realizes their mistake and moves to leave.  “Sam was right, it’s not a monster,” Jack laments. “He was half right. Sometimes humans can be the worst kind of monsters,” Cas adds. 

At the community center, a woman locks up, and grabs a whole lotta cash from the donation box before she bails. Once outside, she hears a voice call her name. She looks around but sees nothing. She turns back to her car to find a masked individual. A weird editing choice cuts back to her...and commercial. 

Cas checks in with the brothers. Dean tells Cas to be wary of those “Hallelujah types” and I’m like, wha? Cas is an ANGEL OF THE LORD. He’s been around the block, Dean. Lol for looking out for your BFF, tho. Also, second awkward moment of the episode when Dean just hangs up on Cas? I’m…

Sam voices his reservations about the whole finding Amara --lying to Amara --killing Amara plan. Say it louder for the brother in the seat next to you, Sam! 

(Boris: I’m just going to insert this in the middle of this recap and never mention it again. Can we trust Billie? Is her plan actually something that is GOOD for our TFW 2.0? What is her agenda and does it align with what we want? What if what SHE wants is as equally bad as what Chuck wants? What if we as an audience are getting played right now??) (Natasha: What if the strings she’s pulling are emotional and she’s playing a dangerous game of chicken with Dean’s rage and Chuck’s entitlement?)

Jack joins the community center. He watches Dr. Sexy the pastor in a prayer circle, and talks to a disillusioned young woman who asks him to fill out a form before walking away. 

Cas walks in separately and wanders over to Dr. Sexy the pastor praying with a parishioner, and tells him about the cash stealing Valerie. She never made it home. 

Cut to Valerie tied and gagged. Her hands are in an elaborate guillotine. She wakes. Her screams are muffled. A TV turns on and flashes the word ‘Thief’. And one of her fingers gets chopped off. A timer starts on the TV. AND WE ALL RECOIL. 

Jack finishes the paperwork and tries to talk to the girls working the food line. The one girl storms off, upset. Jack follows her and tells her that he didn’t mean to upset her. 

She tells him that Connor and her dated. Well, they watched a lot of old movies together.  (AHEM! AHEM! AHEM! “I’m your Huckleberry.” AHEM. Please stop the clowning, it hurts so much.) 

Jack confesses to the girl that he lost his mother. The girl tells Jack that her mom died three years ago, and now it’s just her and her emotionally unavailable father, the pastor. “I have more dads than most, and I’m always just feeling like I’m letting all of them down.” JACK!!!! The girl tells Jack to trust God, not people. 

And we laugh, and laugh, and, guh, laugh. 

Cas, meanwhile, meets with Dr. Sexy the pastor. 

Cas interrogates Dr. Sexy Pastor about whether anyone else has gone missing recently. Well, there was one guy who used to work for the “faith-based community” but they parted ways. Cas and the pastor enjoy a little god talk. Cas, the weary angel, opines that God just doesn’t care. The pastor has a different take on faith - it’s about the people of his church doing what they can to take care of each other. We learn that this church recently changed from a fundamentalist branch to something more welcoming. Connor was able to come out as gay due to the changes, so some good happened. (Hindsight thoughts: this makes his death and the “Liar” all the more awful.) “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying,” the pastor concludes...and if that ain’t the truth about Cas!

Sam and Dean are on the too-slow train to Atlantic City when Amara drops in during a gas stop and invites them out for pierogi. 

At Patchwork, the pastor asks Jack to share his journey of faith during a prayer circle. Jack falters, and Cas steps in. “I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders. Without question. And I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. Then, of course, when it all came crashing down I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed. Something amazing. I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. I rediscovered who I am.” BRB crying!

Later in the cafeteria, Jack asks Sexy Pastor, M.D. how he brought together so many people with different ideas of religion. “It’s not about what they believe. It’s what they do,” he reiterates. (I imagine, for a moment, an ending where Jack calls out to the whole world and all living creatures and Heaven and Hell unite to win the final confrontation and make a better world together.)

The tranquil moment is interrupted by the TV turning on to security feed footage of the victim. The timer runs out and she loses another finger and screams and screams. Jack rushes over to the TV and pulls out a USB stick from the back.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters dine with Amara.

They bring up Chuck’s destruction of the other universes and tell her they have a plan to stop him. They’ve got a nephilim on their side AND he’s super powerful. All they need is for Amara to help them trap Chuck and...WHAMMO. Amara gently refuses to betray her brother. She lays some new mythology on them. She and Chuck are twins - creation and destruction - and their splitting apart first brought life into the world. 

Cas and Jack barge into the church’s ex-AV tech’s room. And by that, I mean, Jack gets hurled through another door? Um. Okay. The part of me that grew up with 3 Stooges is HERE FOR IT, tbh. 

They discover the guy is dead, chained up in bed with cuffs, with the word “lust” painted above him.

Getting ready to leave town, Sam’s ready to accept Amara’s choice. Dean “Fuck Acceptance” Winchester heads back inside and corners Amara. He asks why she brought back Mary. 

Amara tells him that she wanted him to see that the apple pie dream life he’s always striving for isn’t real - that Mary was only human - and BETTER because of that. Amara thought that would help him to accept his life. Amara also thought that having Mary back would release Dean from his anger. 

He leans forward and lets her know that he’s furious. Everyone in this universe is trapped, he tells her - including her. And she’s doing nothing. Amara falters in the face of this, and then asks him if she can trust him. “I would never hurt you,” he LIES TO HER FACE. She tells him she’ll think about it.

That evening Sylvia, the pastor’s daughter, listens to her friend gush over the social media attention she’s getting after posting about the torture video. In a flash of rage, Sylvia stabs her friend and races away. Dr. Sexy Pastor finds the current (still alive) victim just as Sylvia catches up to him. She accuses him of laughing at her mother after her mother died from trying to heal by prayer rather than medical science. She accuses him of changing the church that her mother grew up in. Jack jumps into the fray and gets stabbed for his trouble. When Cas arrives, Sylvia is quickly subdued by his Vulcan forehead tap of slumber.

Cas yanks away the restraints from the victim (SOOOO strong) and then heals her fingers back on while the pastor looks on in wonder. 

For So Strong Science:

Later, they gather outside while Sylvia gets taken away in cuffs. The pastor still cares about his daughter and vows to get her help. The driver of the car is Zach the crossroads demon? Oookay. 

Cas and Jack drive home. In the truck of feelings, Cas asks Jack why he couldn’t share during the prayer circle. Jack confesses that he’s been lying. The spell Billie is doing with him is turning him into a bomb to be used against Chuck and Amara. It’ll work - they’ll cease to exist. But Jack will be obliterated too. “This is the only way they’ll ever forgive me,” he tells Cas. 

Cas is horrified. He can’t watch Jack die again! Cas refuses to watch Jack die again, but Jack seems to have fully embraced this as his necessary fate.

Back at the bunker, Dean heads for the whiskey bottle late at night when he spots Cas shuffling towards the exit. Jack’s settled in his room, Cas reports. Cas then tells Dean he’s going to look for “another way.” 

Oh AND, “In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know…” 

FADE. TO. BLACK.  

The Se7en Deadly Quotes:

You guys go Highway to Heaven that bitch

You look greener than Baby Yoda

“Did anyone find any tiny bags with chicken bones inside?” “Did anyone smell sulfur?” “Did anyone feel cold?”

There were too many cats

Where can I find the Kool-Aid?

I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person

It was a gift, Dean. Not a trial

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[bangtanreadingcorner]

all this time • kim seokjin

plot – you and your best friend, seokjin, drifted apart after he became a famous actor. years later, you find your way back to each other.

words – 3.5K

When your best friend Kim Seokjin got the lead role in a movie when you two were eighteen years old, you were ecstatic for him. What you were less ecstatic about was the fact that you grew apart to the point where you didn't even greet each other if you happened to cross one other in the street. Something that didn't happen very often because he moved to the city, but it still happened, each time he visited his parents in your hometown.

You, on the other hand, could never leave your home. Not forever, at least. It's not that bad, despite what some of the teenagers might say, it's a really big town. Big enough that not everyone knows everyone, and nobody poked their noses where it didn't belong. There is a lot to do, too, if you're a local and you know where to look. You love this place and you'll never completely leave it. You left years ago, to study and become a doctor, but then you came back. Now you live in an apartment and your work at the local hospital. It's not glamourous and glittery but it's home and it's what you've always wanted. It makes you happy and content, to help people and to heal physical injuries, get parents and children alike back on their feet, curing someone who's sick.

Sometimes there is a hollow place in your chest that aches, somedays more than others, but mostly you ignore it. You know what's missing from your life, you know what belongs there. You also know you're never getting it back, so you push past it and deal with it.

But beyond that, life was good.

A scream startles you out of your reverie and you come back to earth, looking around the small coffee shop you were in from where to were seated by the window, nearly rolling your eyes when you saw what it was.

It was Kim Seokjin, famous actor who had most woman's heart skipping a beat, who had just walked into the coffee shop, who used to be your best friend. It was two girls who spotted him and was now giggling while pointing - at least discreetly - at him with wide smiles on their faces.

You wonder with vague amusement what they would say if they knew that when you were thirteen, he stuck an olive up his nose because you bet him that his nose was to small and he wouldn't be able to do it.

Your eyes suddenly met Seokjin's, and you looked away immediately, missing the way his face fell into a cherstfallen look. But Seokjin, ever the professional, quickly wiped his features into a charming smirk, even if he felt like he was breaking inside. He wondered, not for the first time, if stardom was worth the price of losing you.

You ignored his presence as best you could, finishing your hot chocolate and the rest of your breakfast. After paying for your meal and getting ready to leave, you couldn't help but take another look at him, because he was your best friend Jin for long before he was Kim Seokjin the Actor and despite what you try to convince yourself of, you still miss him.

You looked to where he was seated and found him already staring. Instead of immediately looking away, you let your gaze linger, long enough that he gave you a hesitant smile and a little wave. You finally adverted your eyes, turned around and walked out of the cafe.

***

"I heard Seokjin-ah is back in town." Your mother said conversationally when you went to visit your parents that evening for dinner.

"Yeah, I saw him this morning in Misses Jung's Diner." You answered, making sure to keep your tone disinterested, not wanting her to get into this topic.

Your mother brightened, as she bustled around the kitchen. Your father was in the living room, watching television. "Oh, and how is he doing? The star life treating him well?"

"How would I know? I didn't talk to him." You shrugged with a light frown. "I told you, we're not friends anymore."

"And who's decision was that?" Your mother asked, rounding on you with narrowed eyes.

"No one, it was just life. We drifted apart, that's it." You answered honestly. You really did drift apart, but it could have been prevented, if Seokjin put in more effort. You did everything you could to keep your friendship, but eventually he stopped returning your calls and texts, and it wasn't until he finally didn't even send you a text on your twenty first birthday that you gave up completely. When you got a new phone from your parents, you didn't save his number again.

"Maybe now that he's back, you two can patch things up again." You mother suggested with an excited smile. "You know, you aren't getting any younger and I want grandbabies."

"Mom!" You gasped in a little exasperation, but not surprised at all. This has been going on since you turned 25. You suppose you're lucky that she's not like Mrs. Kwon next door who tries to set her daughter up with any willing man, that she just teases you with Seokjin every now and again. Probably because she knows you're in love with him, even after all these years. "I'm 28, not 48. Also, Jin and I were just friends. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You can never tell me enough times that I'll be convinced." She said with a pointed look in her eyes as she grinned at you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, regretting the night you showed up at home and cried your eyes out because you realised that you are in love with Seokjin and he's gone and you never got to tell him. You almost went to Seoul that weekend to tell him.

"Just because I have feelings for him, doesn't mean he has feelings for me." You reminded her.

"Hah!" She scoffed, muttering under her breath about 'stupid children' and 'won't know unless it hits them in the face'. You shook your head with a fond smile as you watched her until the door bell rang.

You frowned lightly, "Are you expecting someone?"

"Yes." You mother nodded, brightening up significantly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Oh, that must be Minji and Seokjin."

"You invited Jin and his mom to dinner?" You hissed at you mother, only glaring slightly. You assumed Seokjin's dad wasn't coming because he isn't home, probably on rotation - a military man through and through is how you'd discribe Mr. Kim, if ever asked.

You got a whack with the dishtowel behind the head, "Y/N, behave."

Dinner was a boisterous affair, but not from your part. You didn't know if it was thanks to your mother - but you'd bet a month's salary that it was - that you and Seokjin end up sitting next to each other, but you did. He looked at you, a lot. You could feel it, his gaze like a brand on your skin.

"Seokjin-ah, your mom tells me you'll be in town for a while." Your mom said with a bright smile and you breathed a little easier when he moved his eyes away from you. Your heart was still unsteady.

"Yes, Ma'am, I'll be staying for a month before my next film's production starts." He answered politely, voice deep and soothing and everything that you want. You clenched your fists in your lap, swallowing thickly as you reminded yourself that you couldn't have it.

"That's wonderful." Your mother said.

After finishing your dinner, you had to get out of there. "Excuse me, I'm feeling like swinging."

"Me too." Seokjin said with a cheery smile, rising from his chair as well.

"You're not invited." You snapped and felt guilty when he flinched.

"Y/N, this is not how I raised you." Your mother said with a slight glower on her face. You look to your dad for help, but he just smiles at you before stuffing his mouth with more food.

You sighed in resignation, "Fine, he can join me if he really wants."

You walked to the backdoor without looking to see if Seokjin was following you. You wanted to leave so you could get away from him, clear your head and get your bearings right.

The swing you talked about wasn't an actual swing - although you do like going to the swings in the park a few blocks from your house - but a swinging bench that your dad hung for you from the tree behind the house years ago. The swinging bench held countless memories of you and Jin, playing and having fun. You sat down and wait for him to sit down too before kicking with your feet against the ground and swinging.

It was dark and quiet outside, just the sounds of the night animals waking up. It was soothing in a way that little else was. The comforting and safe presence next to you hasn't been there for a decade, and you soaked it up, knowing it wouldn't last past tonight.

"How have you been?" Seokjin eventually asked, breaking the silence that settled over you two.

"Do we have to talk?" You asked and it's not meant to come out that sour or mean, but there's a lot of resentment in you towards him for just letting fifteen years of friendship go down the drain for fame. The friendship between you was something you cherished most in this world and before you were in love with him, you just loved him. Losing a loved one always hurt. And it did. It hurt like hell when you lost him and your friendship.

He flinched from your words, again, and you felt guilty again. He looked at you but you didn't look at him as he spoke. "I'm sorry, that I ever hurt you by leaving."

"It's fine, it's been ten years. I'm over it." You waved him off, when really it isn't fine and you aren't over it.

"Still, I never wanted to hurt you." Seokjin said, sincere and open.

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning back on the bench. He had the right idea, by apologizing, but he was apologizing for the wrong thing. "You leaving didn't hurt me, Jin. Cutting me out of your life did."

***

A few days later on your day off, you were riding your motorcycle, on your way to the mall - the bookstore had finally let you know that the medical journal you ordered had arrived - when you heard it. Voices screaming 'Seokjin- or Jin-oppa'. Your head automatically swivel in that direction and you didn't know whether to laugh at the sight or feel sorry for Seokjin, who was being chased by five girls. You wanted to just drive away.

But then you caught sight of the slightly terrified look on his face and your heart twisted violently. You swore, and revved your bike before turning around and making a U-turn, riding to where Seokjin was. Both him and the girl's stopped in their tracks when they noticed you were driving straight at them. They all froze, not moving or running like most people would have.

You braked and slowed down until you were infront of Seokjin, idling as you flipped open the visor and called, "Hey, Kim Seokjin! Get on!"

He didn't hesitate, climbing on and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly before you took off. You drove him to his house, not making any detours because you wanted to get away from Seokjin before he could realise the fast pace of your heart was not because of adrenaline but because of his close proximity.

"Can we talk?" He asked after he got off, placing a hand on your forearm to prevent you from taking off.

You took a deep breath, then turned off your bike and took off your helmet, looking at him expectantly while flattening your hair. "Talk about what?"

"Anything, I don't care." He answered, tone bordering on pleading. "I just want to talk to you."

"You were the one that shut me out." You said, voice just this side of cold as you rested your feet on the tar road.

"Because I wanted to make something of myself and I couldn't do that if all I thought about was packing up and coming home to you." Seokjin defended himself, hoping that you'd see reason.

Instead, you scoffed at him. "Well, you did. So, congratulations. I hope you're happy and I hope it was worth it."

"I missed you." Seokjin said out of the blue. Your body tensed and you wanted to look at him, but you didn't. Too afraid that if you did you'd cave and forgive him. "Everyday, for the past ten years, I've missed you. I never stopped, not once."

The words was like a healing salve to your sore and bruised heart that never quite healed right. You swallowed thickly. "What do you want me to say, Jin?"

It was quiet for a while, before he finally asked. "Do you really hate me that much?"

You laughed a little, as if. How much easier would your life be if you could have just hated him after he stopped talking to you. If you did, maybe you could have moved on, had those grandchildren your mother is always nagging about. You shook your head, "No, I don't hate you, I never have. I never could."

"Can we try to be friends again?" He asked, bright and hopeful and you hated to be the one to destroy that, but you didn't have another choice.

"Just so we can drift apart again?" You challenged, scoffing a little. "No, thanks, I already lost you once, I'd rather not do it all over again."

"It's different this time." Seokjin insisted earnestly.

You opened your mouth, to give a harsh remark, but when you saw the honesty and seriousness in his eyes, you asked instead, "How?"

Seokjin smiled at you and you ignored the way it made you feel like you could melt into a puddle of goo. "Well, for one, we're both grown up this time around. And two, I've decided that maybe it's time to start putting roots down."

"Haven't you done that in the city?" You questioned with a frown.

"Not really, no." Seokjin shook his head. "There's just no place like home, you know?" He asked, giving you a look

You looked at him and smiled slightly, "Yeah, I know."

"Can I show you something? Tomorrow?" Seokjin asked, and seeing your hesitation, he added on a gentle, "Please."

"Okay." You agreed, watching as he gave you a brilliant smile. Your heart singed and your stomach flip-flopped.

"You can come by tomorrow at 11." He said and you nodded in agreement.

"See you tomorrow."

You started your bike and drove away, anticipation and excitement for the next day knotting your stomach.

***

"Why did you bring me here?" You asked the next day, heart full of bursting emotions as you looked at the house. It wasn't just any house, it was your dream house. The house you fell in love with when you were fifteen years old, it wasn't a mansion, but it wasn't a small house either, at three stories high. It was an old, fixer upper, but you've always loved it. It was a little secluded, being just out of town and in the woods, and it was where you planned to stay one day.

Seokjin knew all of this. You two sneaked here many times and he listened to you rant about the house and how perfect it is even more times. So, why bring you here now?

"Remember what I said about putting roots down?" He asked and you hummed in confirmation, nodding slightly, a bit confused. "I bought it."

Your eyes widened and you gaped at him, completely thrown off by his words. "You- what? Why?"

Suddenly, his demeanor turned nervous, hands trembling slightly and voice shaky when he spoke, "I was hoping that, maybe, it could be a home. For us."

"Jin-"

"Just let me talk, okay? Because if I don't say this right now, I never will." Seokjin said, holding up a hand to silence you, and you nodded, a little greatful because you had no idea what the hell to say to that. "I've been in love with you since I was thirteen years old and ten years ago I left because I had nothing to offer you, I had no money, no way to give you your dream house. But now? Now I can give you everything you deserve."

You still didn't know what to say. You stayed quiet, thinking about what he said and how to respond to that because this - Jin telling you he loves you back - is everything you've ever wanted.

"Jin, I didn't need this, it was just a dream. You-" You broke off, emotions choking you up. "You were what I really wanted."

"I know, Y/N. I've known you almost all my life, and I know material things isn't what makes you happy, but I wanted to be able to give them to you." He said sincerely, looking at you with his chocolatey depths that made your heartbeat speed up. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "These last ten years, they were hell with out you. I tried to stay your friend, but it got to hard to talk to you everyday and not be with you, not being able to tell you what I feel. So, I started putting distance between us, promising myself that one day, I'll come back and tell you everything."

Your mouth felt dry, heart thundering in your ears as you looked at him. Your voice was a whisper when you spoke, "Do you know how much you hurt me? Do you have any idea?"

"I do, because it hurt me too. I'm sorry, Y/N, so truly sorry and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me." He said, taking a step forward but you took one back, needing space to think.

"How do I know you won't just leave again?" You asked him, challenging and a little mean.

"Because I love you and I want a life with you." Seokjin said, then much more hesitant and softer, he asked, "Do you want that too?"

You stared at him, heart beating wildly, eyes stinging and chest constricting. You didn't think it was possible to feel this much all at once. Finally, you nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."

Seokjin sighed in relief, shoulders slumping over as he nearly kneeled over with the force of his relief. He took a step closer and when you didn't move away from him again, he stepped closed until he was near enough to pull you close, hugging you tightly to his body, the way your body fit against his familiar, but at the same time it was new because he'd never hugged you before while knowing that you reciprocate his feelings. He dreamed, wished, hoped but never fully believed it. His whole life, everything he built, was done on nothing but his love for you. He didn't know if you felt the same or if you'd even still be here by the time he came back or even if you were, if you would still be single then. All he had was his love. His love that burned brighter than ever before.

"Hey, stupid." You called softly, cheeks aching you were smiling so wide.

"I'm not-" He cut himself off with a resigned sigh. "What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." He said, and you could hear the smile in this voice.

"It's not going to be easy." You warned him, because there was at least sixty different ways this could go wrong. You held him a little tighter and he squeezed back.

"Nothing worth having ever is." He retorted smugly.

"Smartass." You huffed, slapping lightly against his back, more fond than anything else.

"Your smartass, though."

"Yeah," You nodded with a happy smile, lifting your head from his chest so you can look into his eyes. "Mine."

Seokjin cupped your cheeks, leaning down and pressing a quick and gentle kiss against your lips. He pulled away, cheeks a lovely shade of pink. You could feel the heat spreading to your own cheeks as well. "Sorry, I should have asked before I kissed you."

"You call that a kiss?" You huffed, watching as realisation spread in his eyes. He smirked down at you and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, you yanked him down and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss, because really, it's been over a decade since you've wanted to do this. He didn't hesitate to respond to your kiss, just as eagerly and you realised that this was finally happening. After all this time, years of pining and hurting and thinking it never would, it was finally happening.

Your mother is going to gloat all the way into the next century.

the end.

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part 26 I.M.P

39 Days Left Until Extermination...

"Will all hotel staff come to the main lobby for an important announcement!" Charlie's voice echoed throughout the hallways. Everyone walked into the lobby to see the princess and Vaggie, waiting.

Husk eyes were red and blood shot, while his fur had several tangles and mats as Niffty tried to brush them out. He tried to shove her away as she did. Angel was half naked while he had on a very short shorts much to Alastor's discomfort while Husk on the other hand was flustered. Alastor was perfectly dressed as always, standing and waiting, with a smile etched across his face, although he had slight dark circles underneath his eyes. Anna, who was standing next to him, looked worse for wear. Her hair was a complete mess, not even brushed as if she just crawled out of bed. Her eyes were bloodshot as well as she let out a yawn wanting to go back to sleep. 

"What's the big idea calling so damn early at 6 o' clock in the morning?!" Angel questioned angrily still half asleep while holding Fat Nuggets who was sleeping in his arms.

"Since, everyone's been cooped up at the hotel for awhile. I thought that we should go out and have some fun. In celebration for Niffty's redemption, we are going to my dad's theme park, LuLu World!" Charlie explained.

 "LuLu World?" Anna asked, confused half asleep and dazed.

 "LuLu World!?" Niffty exclaimed, excitedly.

 "Lu Lu World!" Charlie shouted, happily.

 "I can't wait to tell Baxter!" Niffty said.

 Alastor glanced down at Anna. "Looks like this is a perfect opportunity for our date!" He said. 

 "Y-Ay!" Anna answered while smiling nervously. She did not the smile that the radio demon had on his face. 

The limo parked right in front of the park's entrance and everyone stepped out. Husk pulled Anna aside away from everyone and whispered.

"If he does anything weird to you, just scream." 

 "Got it." Anna nodded.

Everyone went their separate ways, Husk with Angel, Niffty with Baxter, and Vaggie with Charlie along with Razzle and Dazzle, Charlie bodyguard goat pets, as they left Alastor and Anna alone together.

"So what do you like to do first?!" Alastor asked leaning in far too close to Anna's personal bubble.

"Why don't you pick then I'll choose the next one?" Anna shrugged. Alastor hummed in thought before answering.

"Merry go round!"

"Are you serious?" Anna questioned.

"Why, yes, indeedy!" Alastor replied. He dragged Anna by her hand as they headed towards the ride. Some of the carousel were shaped like apples while some had a dark horse. Both Alastor and Anna, each, climbed onto the horse. The ride started up and slowly began to spin around. Anna held onto the pole as the ride began to pick up speed. It couldn't go faster could it?

It did... 

The ride went faster, and faster as it went around. Anna shut her eyes as she began to lightheaded and dizzy. Alastor on the hand was enjoying every second of it as he leaned back, raising his hands in the air as the ride went faster, hooping and hollering. Who knew he was such a big man child!I

As the ride continued to go faster, not too far off from the side, hiding in a abandoned booth were the three imps. Blitzo fired a couple rounds but missed mostly hitting some unfortunate demons and imps and shooting and breaking some of the carousel as well.

At the end of the ride, Anna found herself face first into a trashcan as she puked up the remains of the breakfast she had earlier. She glared up at the radio demon who was standing beside her, innocently, with a smug smile on his face. 

"Now, let's go on that ride!" Alastor suggested, pointing over towards a rollercoaster as it plummeted down to the ground fast, combustion in a fiery explosion. Anna whimpered as she stared at the ride with wide eyes. This guy is going to kill me! Alastor laughed but suddenly stopped as he saw something strange. 

 He noticed a red dot appeared on Anna's forehead. "You know what, I changed my mind. Let's go do something else instead!" He quickly insisted.

 "Okay? Up for a little shooting?" Anna asked. Alastor smiled.

"You read my mind!" He replied then linked his arm around Anna's, heading towards the stand.

Pop! A random balloon, that was held by an imp child, imploded, from out of thin air as it was shot, crying as it did.

The two walked straight up to a shooting stand. It had angels for targets as well as cherubs. There were an assortment of stuffed prizes hanging from the walls. 

"Step right up! Step right up!" The imp shouted. "Shoot the angels and win a prize!"

"Mind if I have a try?" Anna asked.

"Are you sure that you can handle it?" Alastor mused, teasing. Anna frowned. She wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off his face. She picked up the pistol and the imp started the targets. Anna turned to the vendor.

"Make them to faster." She stated. 

"Are you sure?" The imp laughed. "I think your at cream puff level at best." 

Anna nodded. "Do it." 

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn ya!" The imp exclaimed, pulling down the lever. "Cranking it up to God speed!" 

The targets began to move at an excessive alarmingly fast rate, hard enough for everyone who was watching to see. Suddenly, one by one each target fell as Anna fired each round. There was a stunned silence as no one made a sound as they stared frozen in shock. Alastor, with wide eyes and a frozen smile, standing rigid. Each target was down, not a shot missed. 

"Holy shit!" The imp vendor exclaimed in shock.

"I'll take the deer stuffed animal, thank you." Anna replied, blushing, a little, embarrassed from everyone staring. The imp still standing in shock handed the animal out towards her. Anna took it and gave it to Alastor who was along with everyone else still in shock, a deer in headlights.

"Let's do something else, shall we?" Anna suggested, quickly walking away. Alastor chased after her right at her heels.

Where did that come from?!" He questioned.

"What?"Anna shrugged, acting like what just happened was no big deal.

"THAT! What you just did back there!" Alastor pressed further.

"Well, I did tell you that my father was a hunter. Sometimes he would take me with him. It used to be a hobby between just the two of us." Anna explained.

"Why didn't you tell me that you can shoot!" Alastor shouted.

"You never asked." Anna answered.

Alastor laughed. "Fair point." 

 "I'm getting a little hungry mind getting some shaved ice?" Anna suggested. It wasn't what Alastor was used too or liked, but he agreed.

"Sound's like berries to me!"

Eventually, the two were now sitting down on a bench eating their shaved ice in silence. Alastor chose Cherry flavored while Anna went with Blueberry. Every once in a while, Anna would glance over at Alastor before looking away when he noticed her looking at him.

"Have your parents ever told you that it's rude to stare?" Alastor asked. "Something on your mind, darling?"

"Well, you know some stuff about me. But, I hardly know anything about you, besides your mom. Like did you do in your past life, when you were alive? How did you end up here?" Anna asked, curious.

Alastor tensed as the remains of his cone fell to the ground. "You are asking some very dangerous questions." 

"I still want to know." Anna insisted.

 "Why?" Alastor questioned.

 "Don't you want to be redeemed as well?" Anna asked. Alastor laughed.

"Darling, I'm far from redeemable!" Alastor said. "If you know of the despicable things I've done. You would be repulsed!"

"Try me." Anna replied. Alastor twitched, a little irritated. He sighed and started.

"Very well, then. I was a very popular radio star in New Orleans. I gave daily announcements about news and events. One of my most famous reports was a serial killer."

"Really? Did they ever catch him?" Anna asked.

Alastor laughed. "You can say that. You're sitting right next to him!" 

Anna's eyes widen and she nervously swallowed. "Y-You're a serial killer?"

"Yes. Now you know my dirty past." Alastor rolled his eyes. "Any more questions?"

 "Why?" Anna asked.

 "Why, what?" Alastor questioned.

 "Why did you do it?" Anna asked.

Alastor shrugged. "Well, at first for a while, it was abusers, rapists, anyone who were lost causes. But, soon I had a craving for more. Pretty much every other week there was a killing." He finished while Anna listened, taking in everything that he had told her. 

"Alastor," Anna said. "Most of those people were murderers. You probably saved a lot more lives than you took."

"You think so?" Alastor laughed. "Well, I hate to break it got you, my dear. But, you are wrong. It wasn't my place to judge for their actions." Even he couldn't believe the words that escaped from his mouth. 

"Surely, you must feel a little remorse?" Anna pressed. "Even a little?"

"No, not a bit." Alastor answered.

Then Alastor noticed the strange red dot again as it appeared on Anna. He made a strained smile. This was getting annoying! He briskly signaled his shadows, while Anna was looking away, that were hiding, to find out where it was coming from. His shadows immediately took off, darting away to the source. High on top of the ferris wheel, Blitzo was aiming a rifle at Anna setting it's scope on her.

"I got you now, bitch!" Blitzo shouted.

As Blitzo was about to squeeze the trigger, several dark shadows loomed over the three imps.

"Holy shit!" Blitzo screamed. The shadows lunged at the three terrified imps.

"They belong to the radio demon!" Millie cried out.

"This is not worth risking our lives over, sir!" Moxxie screamed out.

"OH HELL NO!" Blitzo shouted. FUCK THIS! SCATTER!"

The three imps desperately tried to get away from the shadows as they bailed out from the passenger car. Now falling from a great height and hurling towards the ground, landing right onto an inflatable bounce house. It began to deflate as screaming kids were trying to get out.

Then a thick blue book fell landing right in front of Charlie and Vaggie who were walking nearby.

"Hey, what's that?" Vaggie asked. Charlie's picked it up, examining it. Her eyes widened in surprise. The latin labeling on the cover gave it away. It was indeed the book. She glanced over at Vaggie who was looking at her, waiting.

"Uh, nothing!" Charlie quickly answered. "Absolutely, nothing!"

 "Hon,-" Then Vaggie stopped as she saw Alastor and Anna approaching as they headed towards them. The princess quickly hid the book behind her back. Vaggie walked over to them. Charlie looked behind her to see Razzle and Dazzle.

"Take this and hide it away for now." She whispered to them. Her two goat pets took the book and ran off heading towards the limo as everyone got ready to leave. 

A s everyone left, the three jumps crawled out from the popped deflated bounce house.

"oh, nice job, sir. You lost the book." Moxxie groaned.

"Shut the fuck up, Moxxie!" Blitzo growled.

[myheroacademiashorts]

Angel ~

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: You’re only the classmate - and the complete opposite - of Bakugou Katsuki, the infamous hothead. Yet you can’t stop yourself from falling for him. All it takes is one lucky movie night to either make it or break it for you and the explosive boy.

Rating: Fluff!! (Full of Softie Bakugou, uwu)

Words: 3043

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that Bakugou Katsuki didn’t make you nervous.

It could’ve been for a number of reasons; the constant way he raised his voice in class, the glares he shot to the ‘extras’ around him, the threats he tossed around like candy to children on Halloween. Or maybe it was the way he’d lose himself in his thoughts while studying, attention on the notebook in front of him as you’d gaze at his handsome side profile, the way his mouth would wordlessly repeat class notes as he read, or how he sometimes ran one hand on the back of his neck, or when he’d snap his crimson eyes to you as you stared at him. Just as he did at that moment.

With a wild blush gracing your cheeks, you immediately dropped your attention from him, instead acting as if you had been focused on Present Mic’s “interesting” lesson as he drowned on and on. You could still feel his eyes on you. They pierced you like a knife, goosebumps beginning to make their way up your arm.

“Hey, you okay?” You directed your thoughts away from the blonde-haired boy and instead looked to your left, where Ochaco sat. A sweet smile graced your friend’s lips, but there was worry in her expression as she looked at you. She leaned forward. “Bakugou is staring at you, you know.”

Your cheeks flushed even more, if that were possible. You ducked your head down. “I know, I know.” You sighed. Ochaco snickered.

“You should turn and wave at him! Maybe it’ll give him a shock.” She bumped your shoulder as she spoke, and earned the attention of your other friend Mina. She hummed loudly as she glanced between you and Ochaco, before moving her attention to Bakugou. He was still staring at you, you could feel that; but it wasn’t a glare as you were thinking. Instead, he was gazing at you curiously, brows furrowed as if trying to understand you from across the room. Mina laughed loudly.

“Hey, Bakubro, why are you staring at (Y/N)?” Her voice was booming within the loud classroom, silencing even Mic as he paused to watch his students. Bakugou immediately glared at Mina, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “S-SHUT UP YOU DAMN EXTRA!” He hissed, balling his hands into fists. Mina only laughed once more, and before he could retort another insult, the bell rang loudly above their heads, signaling lunch. At that sound, Bakugou was practically running out of the room with incoherent words trailing after him, no doubt full of insults and swears.

“Minaaa!” You whined, earning another giggle from your extroverted friend. You were never the vocal type in class. Actually, you weren’t very vocal in general unless you needed to be. Out of everyone within the class, you were probably the most introverted, happy to be inside with a good book instead of out and about. Yet despite your quiet nature, you were sweet to everyone, earning you the nickname “Angel” from your group of friends. Not to mention the snowy wings that were attached to your back.

You gather your belongings and follow your friends out to the cafeteria, quietly listening to Midoriya and Ochaco rant about the upcoming quiz next week as Iida jumped in to mention his opinion every few moments. After grabbing your cafeteria food, you and the group take your seats, with Tsu and Tokoyami following close behind.

“Hey, did you hear that there’s going to be a storm tonight?” Tsu jumped in to a new conversation. “You know what goes great with rain? A-”

“Movie night?” You and Midoriya answered at the same time.

“It is Friday, so it’s not like we’d have to wake up early for our classes.” Iida mused.

“So?? Let’s do it!” Ochaco pumped a fist in the air, grinning at the idea.

“Did I hear movie night?” Kirishima plopped down in the available seat next to you, nonchalantly laying his arm over your shoulders as he spoke. Despite your different personalities, you two got along very well, enough for him to act such away without you getting flustered. Instead, you laughed. “You’re coming, right?” You asked, and Kirishima nodded excitedly.

“Let’s invite the whole class! It’ll be fun!” Kaminari and Mina had been behind Kirishima, with the infamous Bakugou trailing with his usual grumpy expression. Seeing his familiar figure, you immediately blushed, but offered him a polite smile in greeting anyways. He huffed. His eyes trailed from you to the arm wrapped over your shoulders, and his gaze darkened considerably. Incoherent grumbling ensued once more as he sat beside his red-haired friend, knocking him enough to drop the arm hung over you. Kirishima ignored it. “You gonna come with, Bakubro?” He wiggled his eyebrows and nudged the grump beside him, a sharp smile gracing his features.

“Fuck no! I’ve got better things to do than hanging around with you extras.” His attention darted to you for only a moment after uttering the last part, yet you didn’t notice as you talked to Ochaco about possible movie options.

“Ooo, how about a horror film! Those go great with dark and stormy nights, huh?” 

You made a face at the option. “I don’t know… I’m not very good with that kind of stuff.”

“Don’t worry, Angel, I’ll protect you.” Kaminari cooed, wrapping his arms around your head and bringing to his chest, as if comforting a child. You laughed at his playfulness and batted him away. Unknowingly causing Bakugou, two seats away, to grace his features with a scowl of annoyance. “Get off of her, Pikachu.”

Kaminari grinned. “Aw, don’t tell me your jealous, Bakubro?” He teased, reaching forward to squeeze your cheeks affectionately, as a big brother would do to his little sister. A deep-throated growl rose from his throat, and he abruptly stood up from his seat. “HELL NO, IDIOT. FUCK OFF.” He stormed out of the cafeteria with steam rising up from his hands, the group laughing at his explosive attitude as he stalked off. You joined in for a bit, yet watched his back disappear past the doors with a worried expression. No one noticed.

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

The evening came quickly, and you soon find yourself snuggled up on the couch between Kaminari and Kirishima, one large blanket covering the three of you as you sat on the floor. Ochaco had won the discussion, and was currently popping in the DVD copy of Annabelle: Creation before bounding to Midoriya’s side, snuggling up next to him with a gleam in her eyes. Midoriya was a blushing mess, trying to act cool as she leaned towards him, a similar blanket wrapped over their shoulders and excluding them from everyone else. You knew Ochaco had a crush on the green-haired boy; it was painfully obvious, and although she would never admit it for the life of her, it was easy to tell based on the pink tint that graced her cheeks and the shy laugh that she only gave to him.

“Hey, this movie isn’t too scary, right?” You muttered to Kirishima beside you. He grinned deviously, and dread ran down your spine. You snapped your head to Kaminari, who gave you the same reaction. You shuddered. “If I have nightmares from this, Ochaco, I’m blaming you.” You spoke with faux anger, earning a laugh from the group around you. Mostly everyone from 1-A was there, besides Bakugou and Koda, who wanted to “study” instead. But everyone knew the guy had a fear for horror movies, worse out of everyone there. 

Before Iida could dim the lights and settle into a place to watch the movie, the door banged open, and you immediately yelped out of fear and cowered your face under the blanket. However, there was no dark-haired demoness in the doorway, but instead an angry blonde that everyone knew all too well.

“I thought you weren’t coming, bro!” Kirishima noted, a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked at his friend. You peeked your head out and craning your neck, watching as the explosive boy silently ignored his friend and stood in front of you. His usual scowl was glued to his face, yet it seemed softer than normal. Or maybe it was just the lighting. Yeah, probably that.

“Move over.” He directed to Kaminari, whose eyes widened. 

“Dude, there’s other se-”

“I said MOVE OVER, DUNCE FACE.”

With a shrug, Kaminari scooted to the side to reveal a new space beside you, where Bakugou slouched down, his back resting against the couch. Kaminari stood and rushed for a new blanket, Bakugou stealing his. His muscular shoulder was an inch away from your own, maybe less; and it was bare, with Bakugou wearing a black tank top and basketball shorts, and you in an old t-shirt and spandex. Nervously you brought your knees up to your chest as Iida finally dimmed the lights, the movie beginning to play.

It was full of terror just as you had expected. You jumped at every unexpected noise, your gasps earning a few chuckles from those around you as you clung onto the stuffed bear in your arms. It wasn’t until the creepy doll rushes the young girl in the barn that you release a blood-curdling scream, completely forgetting about the animal in your arms and immediately latching yourself on the unfortunate soul beside you. Bakugou jumped in surprise, not from the scene but from the winged girl beside him, whose face had averted from the screen and instead buried itself into his arm. He would never admit it aloud, but he relished in your warmth, even leaned into it a bit as he looked away. Luckily, you didn’t have claws for nails as you dug your hand into his bicep, not caring who you were holding onto as you waited for the young actress’ screams to cease, signaling that it was safe for you to raise your head once more.

Immediately your attention when to him, and he snapped his gaze down to meet your (E/C) eyes. He wasn’t scowling as you thought he would, but instead was looking at you with a mix of curiosity and a softness you couldn’t quite place. Either way, it took your breath away. For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, and it wasn’t until the hard-headed boy smiled at you, a real Genuine Bakugou Katsuki®️ smile, that you felt as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest. It was as if the movie and your friends didn’t exist at that point, as you found yourself lost in crimson eyes. It wasn’t until another wail rang out from the TV that you snapped back to reality, dropping your attention from the boy and to your lap. You dropped your hands from him as well, much to your own disappointment as you instead tried to refocus on the movie. You could still feel his gaze on you though, and as much as you would’ve liked to peek up at him, you held yourself back.

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

By the time the movie had ended, you were scared shitless of dolls. Even though Bakugou had stayed at the back of your mind, the thought of him alone wasn’t enough to help you forget the movie you had just been forced to watch. As soon as the credits rolled, Bakugou had jumped up from his place beside you and went up to his room, not sparing a glance to anyone before disappearing. You saddened a bit at this, but tried not to show it; what had you expected? That he was going to profess his undying love for you that night? Silly.

After waving goodbye and goodnight to your friends, you trudged up the stairs to your room. Everyone else had wanted to continue hanging out, but you were noticeably tired from the whole ordeal. At that point, all you wanted to do was snuggle up in your bed and have a good sleep. Maybe with the light on, just in case any possessed toys decided to try swinging by tonight.

You entered your room quickly, shutting the door and not bothering to lock it behind you as you dropped down onto your (F/C) sheets, an arm over your eyes as your mind whirled at a hundred miles per minute. All you could think about was that expression on Bakugou’s face, how you felt staring into his eyes. And that smile. You never thought that you’d see him, out of anyone, hold such a soft expression as that. Replaying the memory made you bite your lip, and you raised both hands to cover your heated cheeks. 

Suddenly your bedroom door slammed open, earning a screech from you as you sat up and instinctively grabbed the closest thing to you, throwing it at the intruder. The person grunted, catching the stuffed animal before it hit the ground. “Jeez, Angel, calm the fuck down.” A familiar, gruff voice came from the doorway, and you peeked behind your fingers to see the spikey hair of Bakugou. He had a frown on his face as he studied the thing in his hands before moving his eyes to you. =

“S-sorry.” You whispered, relaxing your tense position as you realized that you’d be safe. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk stretching his lips as he raked his gaze over you. But just as quickly as the smile appeared, it was gone. He ran one hand through his hair as he softly shut the door behind him, entering your room. Your eyes were wide, not with fear but with wonder; have you ever seen the hot-head so nervous before?

“Listen, I gotta tell you something, but…” He hesitated, then continued. “I’m not good with this shit, okay? But I’ve gotta get it off my chest before I fucking blow.” He paced your room for a moment, and you patiently waited for him to get ahold of himself.

“A-are you… okay?” Your soft voice made him perk up, and he stared at you. He sighed in frustration before stepping closer to you. Anxiously you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap.

“Fuck, it’s just… Look, the thing is…” He fumbled with his words, cheeks turning redder with each passing second. Another huff of annoyance, and his expression melted into anger - at himself, not at you. His hands balled into familiar fists.

“Look, if it’s about what happened earlier then-”

“IFUCKINGLIKEYOUOKAY.”

The words came out in a rush, and your thoughts came to a stuttering halt as you stood from the bed. At this point, both of your cheeks were flushed. He stared at you a second more before dropping his attention, and his hand found itself back to his hair. “FUCK, I didn’t want to say it like that.” He muttered, pacing the room once more. “DAMMIT” He kicked at the wall, not hard enough to do any damage but enough to make you wince at the sound. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you should approach the situation; you knew you liked Bakugou, but you never really imagined that he’d feel the same; maybe in your dreams, but never actually like you. You were both so different, with you being shy and quiet and him being… loud, to put it simply. Yet your heart swelled at his words, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted to say it. He liked you, the same was you liked him. It felt like a dream.

Your silence didn’t do much to quench Bakugou’s frustration, and he slouched his shoulders in defeat. “Fuck, never mind. Forget I said anything.” He muttered as he turned to the door. For a moment, all that you felt was pure panic, staring at his retreating back. Your hand reached about before you could think about your actions, yanking on the bottom of his tank top roughly. “W-wait! You can’t just leave after that!”

He turned to you slowly with stiff shoulders. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? Sit in the room with the chick who fucking rejected me?”

“Who said I rejected you?”

You felt braver than normal, and you assumed the only one you had to blame for your courage was the fiery boy in front of you. A familiar smirk came to Bakugou’s lips as he stepped forward, tilting his head to the side. All of a sudden, it seemed as if your confidence was starting to drain. “Oh? So what are you trying to tell me, Angel?” His words were soft and slow, setting your face aflame once more as you looked at the ground and took a deep breath.

“I-I’m saying I feel the same way, baka. I like you too.”

The words barely escaped your lips before Bakugou had grabbed you, swinging you around and pressing you against the cool wood of your bedroom door. His arms sat on both sides beside your head, trapping you as he stared into your vibrant (E/C) gaze. He was unwavering, not even hesitating for a moment as he pressed his forehead against your own and closed his eyes. “Say it again.”

“I like you.”

“Again.”

“I like you.”

“One more time.”

You cracked a grin, one that would light up an entire room, and his eyes sprang open as if he sensed your happy expression. “How many times do I have to say it before you understand?” You giggled, relaxing slightly as Bakugou released a breathy chuckle with you.

Finally, he pressed a short kiss to your waiting lips. It was sweet and soft, unlike how he usually seemed. And warm, to the point where you wanted to melt against him. It lasted only for a fleeting moment, and he drew back as if to gauge your reaction. His face was vulnerable, brows pulled together as his crimson eyes scanned over your face.

“So…” You managed breathlessly, cracking a relaxed smile. “Are we dating now?”

He growled slightly, ghosting his lips over yours once more. A smile was beginning to stretch itself across his lips once more; this one was a cocky grin of his, one that he wore whenever he felt victorious.

“What do you think, Angel?”

[soyforramen]

Betty Cooper + Teen Witch please!

Anon, this has taken me an embarrassingly long time, but here we are:

Betty Cooper bit her lip as the figures in the house across from her leaned towards each other, their flirting as clear as any neon sign.  This wasn’t how she was supposed to spend her sixteenth birthday.  She was supposed to be the one in that room, laughing and flirting with Archie, all the while waiting for him to kiss her.  Instead, she was sitting alone in her dark room and wistfully thinking about the boy who didn’t want her.

Polly had warned her that love spells didn’t work, but Betty made sure she hadn’t used a love spell.  She’d used a persuasion charm and a dream potion, both meant to make Archie see what they could be, if only he’d give it a chance.  Except, instead of noticing Betty, his lifelong best friend, the one who’d been there for him through his thick head and her thin patience, Archie had fallen for Veronica Lodge, the rich socialite who’s every move was infused with sophistication and seduction.  

With a groan Betty threw herself back onto her bed.  She picked up a pillow and covered her head to scream in frustration.  Frustration that she hadn’t proved she was a real witch like Polly and their mother; frustration that she’d failed at becoming the one thing she’d always wanted, Archie’s girlfriend, before her birthday; and worst of all, frustration that she didn’t even know if she wanted to him anymore.  

A knock came from the window and Betty ignored it.  Probably just another one of Polly’s suitors, clamoring for her attention despite her heart already belonging to another.  Pretty, perfect Polly.  The all-American girl next door.  Perfect grades, perfect hair, and perfect spell work.   Though Betty still adored her older sister, it was annoying how easily things came to Polly and Chic.  Both slipped gracefully into the realm of popularity, neither breaking a sweat in their pursuit of adulthood.  Chic was the captain of the football team and the editor of The Blue & Gold when he was a sophomore on top of his laundry list of extracurriculars.  And Polly had naturally become the co-head of the J.V. Cheer squad, organized a coat drive for the homeless, chaired the dance committee, and successfully protested for adoption of organic, cruelty free lunches by the time her freshman finals had come around.  

All Betty had managed during her two years at Riverdale High was maintain the moniker ‘Queen of the Nerds’ for pacing Dilton Doiley in rank and get politely rejected for all extracurriculars except for the school paper (and even then she’d only been allowed in as a legacy recruit).  Her turn in shop had ended just as quickly when the older boys found out she could clean a carburetor and fix a flat quicker than any of them cared to try.  Heck, even the marching band, always ravenous for new blood, kicked her out after she’d staged a one-woman protest over the sexist and archaic twirler uniforms were.  (Upon further reflection, brought upon by a long weekend detention for interrupting the Homecoming performance, Betty realized her expulsion from the wind section might have more to do with her protestations about the choice of music for that year.  Classic Horror Reimagined might have been all well and good for NYSFBC competitions, but she hadn’t been able to find it in herself to not speak up about the music choices from The Reflecting and Cardamom’s Baby, both directed by, and paying royalties to, truly awful directors.  It seemed Riverdale’s band director was not ready for a more enlightened view of women in film and thus Betty had been regulated to spending the rest of the semester in study hall.)

The knock came again and Betty rolled over.  Let Polly’s beaus wait.  It was as if they cared about Betty’s birthday, so why should she care about their heartache?

“Betts,” came a muffled voice.  “Let me in, will you?  I’m about to fall off this ladder.”

At the sound of her name, she sat up and peered out the window.  The top of Jughead’s grey beanie, a sight for sore eyes at all times, but especially now, stared back at her.  Betty rushed to the window and opened it.  Jughead shoved a greasy Pop’s bag and cup towards her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he pulled himself through the window.

He shrugged and turned on the table lamp by her bed.  The soft, warm glow cast long shadows through the room, its reflection against the window blocking Archie and Veronica from her view.  Jughead jerked his head towards the Andrews’ house and sat down on the window seat.

“Archie  had plans tonight, and you’d mentioned your parents had a thing.  So.”  Jughead gestured towards the bag in her hands.   “I probably should have brought a slice of pie or cake or something.”

Her heart fluttered into her throat and if it weren’t for the melted milkshake in her hand, Betty would have thrown her arms around him.  And, maybe, if she thought a little less and acted a little more, she might have even tried to kiss him.  He shifted in the seat and stared around the room as if it were the first time he’d been there.  A ridiculous thought considering how many times he’d climbed through her window since they were old enough to know what a ladder was.  Despite his familiarity with the room, Betty felt a surprising, sudden urge to hide all her stuffed animals and childhood trinkets under the bed.  

Instead, she cleared her throat.

“This is perfect, Jug.  But what about you?  Won’t you be hungry?”

He grinned, that sheepish, boyish charm of his that lit up his sleepy face.  Her heart thumped painfully at the sight of it.  Not for the first time, Betty wondered why she’d never noticed just how nice of a smile he had?  

“I ate mine on the way over.  And I might have stolen a few onion rings.”

“There’s that famous Jones’ appetite,” Betty laughed.

She sat down on the floor and pulled the paper container of onion rings out.  When he didn’t move from the window, Betty patted the carpet next to her in invitation.  Jughead stood slowly, his movements jerky and uncertain.  Whether he was wary of her, or of the chance that Archie might see them together, was unknown.  But when she pick up the milkshake, now nothing more than thick strawberry milk, his eyes flicked to her lips then ran away to stare at the pastel pink wallpaper.

“How’s the witchcraft going?  Turn anybody into frogs lately?”

Betty shrugged and picked at an onion ring.  Jughead had been the only one she’d told about her heritage.  Despite his inherent skepticism, he was the only one she felt she could trust.  

“Slowly.  Mom wants me to memorize the basics first, but Polly’s been showing me a few things.”

Ever the skeptic in need of tangible proof, Jughead raised an eye in challenge.  Betty shot him a grin and pulled the burger out of the bag.  While she unwrapped it her lips moved wordlessly, the strange form of the spell coming to the front of her mind.  As they watched, steam rose from the burger as it slowly heated.  Jughead let out a low whistle and clapped.  Glib as it might have been, his approval was enough to draw a grin.  

“Finally, useful voodoo.”

Betty rolled her eyes and let out a huff.  She knew he was pushing her buttons, a childish attempt to draw her attention, but it had become a sort of game between them.

“Vodun is a religion, Juggie, and not at all like -“

She paused as a loud whistling cut through the air.  With a puff of air, the burger exploded, sending pieces of rye bread and vegetables all through the room.

“More practice, maybe?”  Jughead said softly.  

Betty worried at her lips, her mind racing to figure out what had gone so wrong.  She’d brought the words to her mind, and focused on shifting her power into them, and then…. did she close off the spell?  Or did she get so distracted by -

Her mind stalled as Jughead reached towards her.  Gently, he pulled something out of her hair and popped it into his mouth.  A few seconds too late, Betty realized it was a tomato.  

“What?” he said at her wince.  “Can’t waste good food.  What about your other project?  The one that doesn’t involve exploding burgers?”

Betty groaned and leaned back to lay down on the (thankfully still clean) carpet.  “You mean The Archie Project.”

Jughead nodded.  He moved a few pieces of bread out of the way, tossing those into the bag, and lay down next to her.  

“I’d name it Operation Ginger Theft, or Lonely Hearts Prevail.  The Archie Project sounds like some lame make-over reality show Kevin and Veronica are always going on about.”

Betty snorted at the image of a swarm of stylists descending upon Riverdale, intent on cleaning up the jocks.  “Or maybe Archie’s the one who gives you a make over.”

Jughead faked a shudder and she giggled.  “Armed with Hamburgercrombie & Fritch, way too much hair gel, and a daily bath in Old Sugar?  Hard pass.”

“You’re willing to give up the chance of a life time to let him and his talented team of bros -“

“Reggie and Moose?” he asked.

“Naturally.  And they come fully equipped to dudify -“

“Dudify?”

“Well, what else would you call it?”

Jughead thought about it while he stared at a piece of cheese on the ceiling.  Betty stared at him, transfixed on just how clear his skin seemed.  The realization that she’d never been this close to him, that he’d probably never let anyone come this close to him who wasn’t related to him, was grounding.  Skin like that had to be a miracle considering how much junk food he ate.  Not a single blemish to be seen.  Pity, too, that his eyelashes were that long and thick.  They covered up just how blue eyes were when he had them half-closed all the time.  No wonder Ethel spent middle school writing sonnets about -

“Masculinize?  Toxify?  Fraternize?” he asked, his drawl drawing her out of her trancelike observations.

“Maybe,” she said softly.

He turned towards her and his eyes met hers.  The stare between them went on far too long to be a look between friends.  Especially when his eyes flicked down to her lips and she couldn’t help but draw the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip.  Jughead cleared his throat, his eyes darting back to the ceiling.  

“I should have brought a cake.”

Betty sighed heavily at the reminder.  “At least you remembered it was today.”

Jughead pushed himself up on his elbow, confusion littered across his face.  “What do you mean?”

Not wanting to fall back into that particular pit of self-pity, she shrugged.  “Forget about it.  And as for The Archie Project -“

“Coming soon on RBC,” he deadpanned.  Despite the humor, Betty knew him well enough to note the tension in his jaw.  

“I think I’m giving up on him.”

Jughead’s eyes went wide and he stared at her.  

“Why?”

“It turns out Archie wasn’t really who I wanted.”

Betty chewed the inside of her mouth.  His half-lidded eyes were normally hard to read, but his sudden interest held intriguing lines of mystery.   She waited, as she always had, on Jughead.  He’d always been last to everything; the last to class, the last to wake, the last to notice when the winds of romance were changing.  Only this time, Betty hoped that for the first time, she’d been the last.

He swallowed, hard enough to be heard in the dark, quiet room.  

“Then who -“

Betty raised up on her arm and leaned forward slowly as if not to spook him.  She met his eyes and, finding the same heat that she felt, met his lips with her own.