#anyway I should probably get work done soon... for reasons...

[yunyin]

oops I ordered the Ladybug nendoroid

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had

synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling

— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)

— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)

— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON

you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.

it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.

“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”

satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?

“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.

you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.

“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”

your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”

“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”

satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 

why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.

“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”

“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”

“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”

you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.

gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 

not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.

but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 

and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 

he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?

satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?

it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 

you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 

and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 

he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?

—————

breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 

gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 

satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 

but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.

“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”

“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 

satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 

satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 

you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 

“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 

“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”

you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 

“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 

your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 

“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”

“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”

the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 

—————

you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 

in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 

it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 

you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 

suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 

there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 

everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 

every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 

in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 

you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 

before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 

satoru. of course.

he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.

you shouldn’t open it.

but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?

before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 

“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”

you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 

“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 

“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”

“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 

the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 

“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”

and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 

“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 

“why did you leave me?” he asks. 

“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”

“why? just tell me why.”

“i don’t have to—”

“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 

and then you break.

you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 

so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”

you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 

“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”

“you can realize a lot in a month—”

“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”

“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 

satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 

“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”

“satoru, you need to leave—”

“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”

“i didn’t ask you to—”

“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”

“satoru,” you plead. 

you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.

satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.

“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 

his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.

“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 

“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.

satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 

“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 

it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  

“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 

satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 

you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 

“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”

“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”

“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.

“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”

“because i couldn’t!”

“you could!�� he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 

it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 

“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”

“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”

you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”

“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”

“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.

he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 

“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“promise?”

“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”

“you deserved that.”

“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”

“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”

“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”

“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.

yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 

“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 

but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.

“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”

read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

if this fic was a person i would want it dead.

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do the Dormleaders' reactions to Yuu who, given that they're from another world, is immune to any and all magic spells.

Example: Riddle's 'Off With Your Head' doesn't make a collar on their neck, 'King's Roar' doesn't affect them at all, 'It's A Deal' doesn't take anything from Yuu and acts like any ordinary contract, etc.

However, this means any healing spells has no effect, forcing Yuu to heal on their own.

Thank you for reading this!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ magic immune reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

out of all the dorm leaders, Riddle would be the most annoyed

...not that 'Off With Your Head' would've done much, anyway

you have no magic to take away

but... it's the meaning!

it's symbolic!

even a plain old collar would be punishment enough

but he can't even do that!

hopefully, you're not the type to misbehave, so he won't have to worry about it

if you are...

...expect to spend a lot of your week trimming the hedges around Heartslabyul as punishment

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona doesn't even know until his overblot

...well...

until after his overblot

everyone keeps going on about how lucky you are

(personally, he doesn't see what's so great about being magic-repellent, but sure)

he's... glad you're okay

not that he'd ever admit that...

just don't let it get to your head, alright?

being immune to magic means both bad and good spells

and he's not going to be sanding you again anytime soon

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul is PISSSSSED lmao

all that work he's put into his latest business venture

and for what??

you're not even BOUND by his contracts!

he has a hard time saying goodbye to Ramshackle...

what a nice cafe it would have made...

but, still

there's got to be some way he can use this to his advantage

he's an adaptable man

and he's always looking for a new assistant

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim is only a little disappointed

first, you can't even cast a spell

now you can't have any cast on you?

you're missing out on all his great party tricks!!!

but... oh, well

he thinks of it as an adventure, or a fun challenge

magicless parties sound kinda cool, right?

and Jamil says it's probably for the better, and Kalim trusts his judgment

(...for now, at least, cough cough)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

not counting the... VDC incident, Vil doesn't care

unlike your annoying friends, he has no reason to curse you

and he can certainly think of many magicless punishments should you ever misbehave

so, no

not really something that crosses his mind

even when you're unwell (because, of course, he's the first to tend to you), he prefers using natural remedies before magical ones

to him, it's just another piece of the strange puzzle that is you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly what is Idia going to do

open the gates of hell on you?

nah

even boring spells would be too much effort for a guy like him

he does find you kinda interesting, though

I mean, being immune to magic in this place is a total buff!

imagine a group of NPCs firing magic at you, and you're like, wham! whew! zoooom!

...in his own words, anyway

(it's not actually that cool)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Malleus...

where do I even start?

he's so reliant using magic that he can almost sense there's something different about you right away

one on hand, it's a good thing

he worries about you, you know? the students at this school can get... unruly

on the other hand, knowing that you won't respond to magical healing is... worrying

he tries not to think about it so much

his overblot is a different story, though

if he can't put you to sleep, what can he do? trap you at NRC with him forever?

actually... I take it back, he'd totally do that

[peachesofteal]

I know Azriel has amassed a ton of wealth over centuries from doing the dirtiest work, and rarely spends it. He's never really had a need to. Of course, he buys gifts for his family, covers tabs at Rita's, buys himself things, essentials, etc but when it comes to spending for enjoyment or spending to indulge, it just doesn't happen.

He's not looking for reasons, either, until he literally stumbles into one.

You trip and fall into him in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Trip over something on the ground, get twisted up, and flail forward, right into his path. You're rose and pink pepper, floral, sharp, sweet in a way he cannot fathom, and he doesn't think before stopping your fall. He just reacts, grabbing you around the arms and pulling you upright, holding you steady as you recalibrate your balance, looking up into his face, eyes shining bright like the stars. They're brilliant, full of life, but lined with an undercurrent of stress, of worry, he does not understand.

You're fumbling over an apology as he studies you, scrutinizing every detail on your face, down to the chap of your lips.

He's never seen a High Fae look so... off before, and they're not known to be clumsy.

"Are you alright?" It's polite to inquire, he assures himself, it's the right thing to do.

"I'm fine," you smile but it doesn't touch your eyes, "thanks. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going." He's unsure what to say next but before he can come up with something, you're giving him a quick thank you, and then disappearing into market.

He thinks about you that night. Wonders about you, as he stares at the bedroom ceiling. You obviously weren't well. Maybe he should have done more. It's his duty, isn't it? To Velaris? To care for it and its citizens, to protect them. Or at least, you. Do something to care for you, protect you.

He's not sure what to do, so he pushes the lingering questions from his mind.

And then the following week, he sees you at Rita's.

You're waiting tables, waltzing across the floor delivering drinks with a smile, the same one that slips away as soon as you're out of sight. Your shoulders slump as you stand at the corner of the bar, covering your mouth with your palm, yawning into it again and again.

Maybe he should do something, maybe you need a healer, maybe he could help-

No. He shouldn't. You probably wouldn't want him to, anyway. Right?

He shakes it off, tries to shake you off but can't stop himself from watching every step you take, trying to diagnose the problem.

It takes too long for it to click.

You're not sick, or clumsy.

You're exhausted, and it makes him irrationally angry, fills him with a need to drag you away from Rita's and tuck you up into a house somewhere, a place you'll never have to lift a finger again if you so choose. A place where you could be taken care of-

maybe even by him.

It takes him very little time to find the ramshackle duplex you live in on the outskirts of town, the roof too sloped, the wooden steps too rotted, the siding too loose.

It makes him uneasy, makes his skin crawl. Why are you here, in a place like this? Who has allowed this?

Why does a place like this even exist when Velaris has such wealth?

He begins to play a game, and at first, he tells himself it's to make himself feel better, that he's doing it for selfish reasons.

It's winter, and you don't have gloves, so he buys a pair and the shadows deposit them on your front step, and it makes the sick feeling in his stomach go away. For a few days.

When it returns, he buys you a hat, and this time, he delivers it himself, eager to see your reaction.

He doesn't expect to see the gloves still sitting on the porch, and he frowns. Did you not see them? Did you not like them? He leaves the hat at their side and lurks on the roof of the house across from yours, hiding in shadow, in wait.

The sun is still rising when you leave for your first job of the day, and you stop short at the sight of the hat. He perks up, expecting to see you relax with relief, or happiness, but is left confused when you hold the hat in your hands for a moment, reverently tracing the stitching, before dropping it back next to the gloves.

Why? You need these things. They're being given anonymously, alleviating some of awkwardness of accepting gifts, and he had hoped it would spare you from feelings of obligation or embarrassment. Perhaps you are too proud, he wonders, but shadows echo a different sentiment, one of distrust, of wariness.

The gifts scare you.

The guilt churns the bile in his stomach, and he flexes his fingers into fists before flying away, cursing himself the whole way home.

Idiot.

You're very surprised when he approaches you on your walk from the Palace to Rita's, so much so that you jerk to a dead stop, staring at him with your mouth dropped open as he tries to explain he has something to give you.

Yes, he knows you don't know him. Yes, he's aware how strange this is.

Yes, you will be taking this scarf whether you like it or not.

"I'm sorry?"

"This is for you." He extends the scarf towards you, holding his breath. Your eyes narrow.

"Have you been leaving things on my porch?"

"Yes." There's no point in lying. He's standing here trying to gift you a scarf, for Cauldron's sake.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, anxious, and he wishes there was a way he could reassure you without frightening you further.

"You needed them." It comes off as arrogant, but he doesn't care. He's getting to the point where he's past caring, where he's past watching you freeze and work yourself to the bone. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles are straining, and it takes effort to steady his voice. "You're freezing."

"I-"

"I want you to have this." Just take it. The shadows skitter around him, trawling across the brick to where you stand, and you glance at them briefly, surprisingly unafraid, before looking back at him. He expects a fight, some kind of resistance, but it's all been bled dry. The only thing he sees is defeat, and it stings. You're suffering, you're suffering and he's got everything he could ever want, material wise, and then some. "Please," he murmurs, stepping forward, and you shake your head.

"I shouldn't."

"It's just a gift, I don't expect anything in return."

"You say that now." Your voice trembles. Anger cracks like lightning through his veins. Is this what you fear? A transaction? An exchange for help? There are only so many things one could want in a situation like this, and all of the them fill him with rage.

"I promise you," his voice is steel, firm and unrelenting, "I want nothing in return."

"You promise." It's not a question, and you won't meet his gaze, but he pushes on.

"I do." You reach for it hesitantly and wrap it around your neck, tucking your chin into the softly spun wool, cheeks lifting in a very small, shy smile. Good girl.

He chose perfectly. It complements your skin, your eyes, illuminates your already striking beauty.

"I... thank you. This is really nice. It's lovely." The shadows hum, and he secretly preens, the warmth in his chest spreading as you tell him your name.

"I'm Azriel," he says in return, and you nod.

"I know." You sigh, and look past him, down the street to where he knows your work awaits. "I have to go."

Or he could take you. It's tempting, so, so tempting. It's wicked, and rotten, but satisfying at the same time, and it soothes the reckless pieces of him calling out to you.

No. He shouldn't. He settles on a different course instead.

"I'll see you soon." Your brow furrows.

"You will?" He nods, spreading his wings, preparing to launch into the sky, pleased by how you marvel at them.

"And you'll wear both the gloves and hat when you're outside from now on." Your lips part with surprise. "Yes?" It takes a beat, and then two-

"Yes."

[remxedmoon]

(you worked yourself to death.)

yeah i wasn’t kidding when i said these would be coming soon. <- haha funny joke marshall. so!! remember when i said that this post would be coming out last weekend? guess whose tablet broke a few days after saying that! so sorry for the delay!! this is long overdue. here’s a link to the drive, as always! everything in this part of the update should be in the miscellaneous folder (outside of the menu icons, which are in the menu folder. wauaua).

unedited versions below the cut, plus some notes. fair warning 90% of this is just ui stuff lol

so! all of this was already done by the time i posted the enemies. the delay isn’t *entirely* because of the tablet issues, i just managed to get distracted by making: even more redraws! i’d say new update soon but after what happened last time i shouldn’t jinx myself. but! almost All of the art for the initial mod release is done!!!! exciting!!!!!!

please be nice to me (silly) this is my first time doing frame by frame animation in… give or take 5 years? i followed the original animations pretty closely, so they don’t look Awful but i am Aware of the jank. i’m not an animator!!! they’re Good Enough for my purposes.

hey did you know that the original teleport map is slightly off center. did you know that. that’s not the case for the redraw for the record but it did make things a little harder. despite that, i think you can tell i was having fun with the dormont part of the map. i would’ve put more detail into the house, but we never really get a more detailed look at it??? and i didn’t want to make assumptions. so that part’s just traced from the original 👍. anyways shoutout to the clocktower being Curved for whatever reason

outside of those, all of the added art is actually just spritework. i didn’t know this at first, but there’s a TON of copies of sprites from the icon set. Basically Everywhere. so those are added now! and should work properly! also added a few sprites that were Missing from my original batch. not going to put them all here, but a few Important ones (which i actually had to make new art for) are the rock paper scissors cheatsheet, the Larger versions of the craft signs (used in the calamité fight and. probably somewhere else idk), and the craft signs for the tutorial kid fight!

aaaand i think that’s it! for stuff from this update. yeah no there’s more coming buddy. my tablet already broke one time this week there’s no way it’s happening twice. i’m not working on portraits Just Yet (though the temptation has been There), but i’ve got the title screens, a few backgrounds, and the ending cgs done! along with a few other assorted cgs sketched out. because im out of my fucking mind. so, uh, see you soon!! enjoy!!

[honeipie]

THE INTERVIEW

katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: katsuki won’t do interviews for anyone. well, anyone that isn’t you.

this is part two of the first hockey boys katsuki post which you can find here

after the interaction at the bar, you and katsuki had been seeing more and more of each other, not only on a professional level, but a personal one as well. in public he'd answer your questions dead last during the press conferences, but you waited each time. knowing that when it was over he wouldn’t leave your side at that bar.

it didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating. you knew you liked him, and he liked you.

the two of you never made your relationship known to the public, due to the small fear you had of it interfering with your job. katsuki never minded, as long as you came home with him at the end of the day he wasn't going to complain.

so five months later here you were, in bed with one of the best hockey players in the league, trying to escape his need to cuddle.

buzz. buzz. buzz.

"get your damn phone will ya?" katsuki mumbled, pressing his eyes shut. you let out a long sigh eyes opening slowly.

"i would if you weren't holding me down like a damn paperweight" he only grumbled loosening his arm around your torso. you couldn’t help but giggle picking up the phone.

“don’t worry my baby. i’ll make it up to you”

“shut up” this made him fully let go and turn his body around. you couldn’t help but fully burst out in laughter at his dramatics before you answered your phone.

“hello?” you rubbed off the sleep that still clouded your eyes.

“y/n, sorry to call you this early but we’re going to need to have a meeting quickly. i hope you don’t mind”

you contained the groan you wanted to let out and opted for a small sigh instead “i’ll be there in an hour” hanging up you turned back to your boyfriend placing your chin in his shoulder.

“i gotta go to work kats”

he grumbled something before turning around to fully face you “this is the one day i don’t gotta go to practice and now they’re callin’ you in? what the hell?”

“i know it sucks, but i’ll be back as soon as possible ‘kay? it’s just a meeting then i should be done” you pulled him in for a kiss which he sleepily returned.

“ugh your breath-“

“shut the fuck up”

even through your teasing he couldn’t help but smirk a little. you got out of the bed opening up his closet. he had opened up a space for you knowing that you might have to get up and go. you picked out something that was comfortable, but still work appropriate. you didn’t plan on staying long anyways.

by the time you exited the closet you were quickly putting on lipstick and looking in the nearest mirror you could find. at this point, katsuki had gotten up and made his way over to you.

“you look nice”

he placed kisses at the crook of your neck, which you were trying not let get to you. cause if you did you would not be getting to work.

“thanks!” you put some earrings in trying not to tilt your head too much where he could have more leverage over you. once they were in you turned around making his head snap back up “i will be back. please remind me cause you know how i could stay there for hours” cupping his cheeks you pulled him in for one last kiss which left a lipstick stain, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell him that.

when you arrived at the station you said your casual hello’s before making your way into one of the conference rooms. luckily, there was already a coffee sitting there waiting for you. ever since you had drawn more attention for the station you’ve been getting some more positive attention.

“hello sir” you greeted your boss with a smile going to sit down across from him. he smiled back at you his teeth practically shining from all the whitening his does.

“there she is! sorry for calling you in on such short notice. i know you probably have errands to attend to" you only shrugged going to take a sip of your coffee "the reason i called you up is because we need something big. we've been getting attention from the players and that's good, but the season is almost over, and we can't just rely on those press conferences anymore. we need something bigger. remember those locker room interviews i was talking about? i was wondering if you could score one with any of the teammates. if you could pull it off, do it with bakugo. he seems to do strangely well with you"

your eyes flit up to meet his. you thought that you could get away with the press conferences for at least the rest of the season. katsuki and you never really delved too dead into work conversation. you'd always hit him with the little 'how was work' and his response never failed, 'y/n you were there'. that was all you would really do. you didn't want him to think that you were with him just to get information out of him, so you never said much about what your boss asked you to do.

"that should be okay with you right? i mean you are our star reporter"

clearing your throat you nodded "i should be able to pull something through. is this all? not to be rude, but i do have some plans for the rest of the day"

he shook his head standing up from his chair "that's all i got for ya" he walked over to give your hand a firm shake "thanks for being so cooperative. shoot me an email when you've got something" with that, he was out of the door.

your keys clanged against the ceramic bowl you made on one of you and katsuki's date nights. he had made one too, you just use it to keep your rings in. katsuki stood in the kitchen already starting prep on some dinner for later. you slipped off your shoes going over to stand next to him.

"how was your meeting?" he asked using a knife to scrape vegetables into a bowl. all you could do was shrug and hop onto the island counter.

"it was okay" you watched as his back muscles flexed along with his movements. katsuki was good on the ice for sure, but in the kitchen? it was like everything he touched was approved by God himself. after he had made your favorite meal after a long day you had never gone back to cooking yourself.

katsuki finished with the last of the vegetables before walking over to you. both hands rested by your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist bringing him closer “hello handsome” you went to lean in but to your surprise he dodged.

he must’ve noticed the offended look that crossed your face “tell me what’s up”

“nothing is up! i just wanted a kiss!”

“don’t lie to me. i just can tell something is wrong. don’t ask how, just tell me so i can help. don’t want you moping around the house bringin’ the mood down”

“weird way of saying you care” your fingers went up to play with some of his hair.

“i do care. that’s why i’m asking”

a small pout formed on your lips as you thought “i don’t want this to ruin what we have. i don’t want you to think im using you or anything, cause i’m not. i love you kat,” if you being upset before didn’t concern him enough this definitely did “my boss is asking me to get a locker room interview with someone on the team-“

“i’ll do it”

it was so quick you could’ve missed it. he didn’t look upset, or even angry. katsuki just shrugged as if it was an every day occurrence. as if he doesn’t brush off every single one on one interview there is. no, you’ve seriously seen him delete the emails before even opening them. fucking spam is what he calls them.

your eyebrows furrowed together at his words “you’re- you’re sure about this?”

“yeah why not. you’re definitely the one doing the interview right? plus if you don’t want it to be with me i’ll force one of the other extras to do it. they fuckin’ love the attention.. was that it?”

“i’ll be doing the interview for sure, and that was it”

he leaned down finally giving you the kiss you wanted along with a small ‘love you’ at the very end.

when he kissed you, there was an unusual feeling on his bottom lip. pulling away you put your thumb over his lip feeling out the bump.

"what the fuck? do you have herpes or some shit?"

katsuki pulled away with an offended expression "no i don't have fuckin' herpes! and if i did, i would've gotten it from your dumbass!"

"well i don't have herpes so where did the herpes bump come from?"

"stop calling it that!"

your stomach was hurting from laughter and katsuki was trying not to give in to your stupid jokes "i got it from that game yesterday. it's starting to swell up a bit" you tilted your head letting your thumb graze over it again.

"babe, you've gotta stop fighting. i don't want to mistake you for having STDs again-"

"is this your weird way of saying you care?"

"i do care"

the two of you stared at each other for a good minute, neither backing down until he let out a huff "fine. can't believe you're doin' this to me" he grumbled going to walk away into the bedroom “come get into some more comfortable clothes. i want to lay down to make up for this morning"

katsuki had a game the next day, so of course you sat right behind the bench where the team sat. it was a close match the whole game. tensions were high between both of the teams, and everyone could feel it. all throughout there was one player on the other team that was really pissing katsuki off, and you could tell from where you were sitting. the way he would skate quickly away from him every time he would get close. the way he would make the whole bench shake every time he sat down in rotations.

there was no physical contact made from either side. not until katsuki scored a goal for his team which must've aggravated the other enough to the point of bodychecking katsuki, hard.

the crowd egged the players actions on with ‘oooohs’ and ‘oh shits!’

now katsuki was livid. you could see him doing a quick turn around to face the player again, but suddenly stopped himself.

katsuki shook his head, and skated away.

the whole crowed murmured in confusion, the player who instigated it was confused. hell, you were even confused.

the day katsuki bakugou refused a fight has finally come.

after the game had finished, and everyone cleared out of the locker room, the station got it set up for the interview. you had taken katsuki into the coach’s office to explain how it was going to go down “so it’s not like a regular locker room interview. it’s going to be like a podcast episode. people eat those up nowadays so this is gonna be good-“

“hm” he was half listening to whatever you were saying. his face was buried in your neck and hands pulled you in by your waist. the blinds were closed and the door was shut, so there was a fifty-fifty chance you could’ve gotten caught, and he was willing to take it.

you decided explaining any more would be useless. all of it going through one ear and out the other. so you moved your hands up the back of his shirt making him shiver slightly “you did good today. i saw your goals”

“thanks baby” he whispered back placing soft kisses along your neck “we can go home after this right?”

“right after, then take a hot bath”

“then let’s get this over with” hesitantly, he pulled away from you going to open the door. you could tell how the game wore him out by how his shoulders sagged slightly, and his hair was a mess. hand going to his shoulder you stopped him “hey, we can do this another day”

he shook his head grabbing one of his baseball caps “nah i’m fine. turn this shit on” nodding you got into you seat. he settled into his but couldn’t help but watched as you fixed your appearance looking into one of the screens nearby. fixing your lipstick because he accidentally smeared it from the after game kiss. the way you straightened out your clothes because of the way he relaxed onto you like a pillow. he loved seeing the evidence of his love all over you, even if nobody knew.

man, he was starting to regret agreeing to keeping this secret.

“are you ready mr. bakugo?” you asked as if you didn’t even know him.

“yeah ‘m ready”

the interview was going smoothly for the most part. you asked him questions and he either gave you one of his famous snarky remarks, or an actual thought out answer. the topic of conversation had turned onto the events of today’s game, and you had questions already lined up in your head.

“so mr. bakugo you had a good game today with you and your teammates pulling in yet another victory. though i’m sure everyone is wondering why you didn’t involve yourself in the fight today. i mean that player was being pretty hostile”

katsuki shrugged pulling the mic away from his mouth a bit “my girl doesn’t like when i fight”

your eyebrow raised at his statement. the team behind the cameras ears perked up at the new information.

“your girl? you- you have a girlfriend?”

his eyes flit up to yours trying to contain his budding smirk “yeah i do. congratulations, you’re the first people to publicly know. other than the team”

“if you don’t mind me asking. how long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“almost six months”

“so almost half a year. she must have something special if she could tie you down”

both of you were now smiling at each other. it wasn’t shocking that you were smiling, but katsuki? hell must’ve frozen over.

“yeah she’s special as hell, and pretty. might put a ring on her finger one of these days if that’s what she wants” he adjusted the mic once more “people might say that’s quick, but i say when you know you know. why waste time?”

you had choked on your spit causing a coughing fit. katsuki covered his face to hide the fact that he was chuckling at your misfortune. once you pulled yourself together you shook your head “i’m sorry about that. i don’t know what happened”

“don’t worry about it”

“well thank you so much mr. bakugo for doing this interview with us. you’ve been amazing”

he mumbled out a ‘you’re welcome’ before the cameras stopped rolling. you got up quickly making sure the crew had everything they needed before you made your way outside. both you and katsuki had driven your own cars here so you would simply meet him at home.

by the time he had gotten there you had already run the bath and gotten in. you could hear the soft pats of his clothes hitting the floor as he made his way into the bathroom. carefully, he slipped into the tub behind you, muscles instantly relaxing. the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while. just basking in the warmth of the tub.

“you’re good at your job”

“thanks” you looked over your shoulder to see that his head was tilted back. his adam’s apple bobbed a little because of your movements.

“whatcha starin’ at me for?”

“cause your pretty. and i want to know if you meant what you said”

his one eye opened to look over at you “what did i say?”

katsuki knew what he said. he just wanted to be able to hear his words become yours.

“that you wanted to marry me”

he closed his eye again moving his arms to wrap around your body. they pulled you close with ease enveloping you in more warmth.

“i meant every fuckin’ word”

@v4mp3r

@yeehawgiddyup13

@b134ch-m4h-ey3z

@liluvtojineteyam

[writinginatree]

The Taste of Home

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis & Riorson!reader, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: When the first snow falls in Aretia, that means it's time for baking cookies, building a blanket fort, and lots of playfulness.

Warnings: Swearing, one tiny injury, the reader is implied to be on the smaller side physically and kind of a brat (sorry, I just got very self-indulgent with this 😅)

A/N: Since I mostly only bake recipes in my first language I'm not that familiar with English baking terminology, so please feel free to correct me if anything doesn't make sense the way I phrased it!

It's 4:32 in the morning when you burst into Bodhi's room — and that's entirely his own fault for not locking the door. He jolts awake, immediately reaching for a dagger as you jump onto his bed, excitedly whispering, "Wake up, it's snowing!"

With an exasperated groan, your cousin drops his weapon and sinks back into the pillows. "It's the middle of the fucking night, bubs."

"No, it's not," you insist, shaking him slightly. "You have to get up in an hour or two anyway. And it's snowing! You hear me? It's finally snowing enough to not immediately melt away again!"

Bodhi tugs on his covers, trying to pull them over his head, but he can't with you sitting on top of him. "Mhh, I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "Now can I please go back to sleep?"

"No."

"Don't be a fucking brat." He's trying to sound strict and commanding, but he's still sleepy and it sounds more like a whine than anything else. "Can't you go bother someone else with your snow?"

You know you kind of are being a brat, but that's never stopped you before, so why should it now? Fully yanking the covers from his grasp, you pout down at him. "Nope. No way am I entering Xaden's room uninvited. I really, really don't want to know what him and Violet are doing in there."

"Probably sleeping, like any sane person," Bodhi grumbles. "What about Garrick? I'm sure he'd love to be woken up just because it snowed."

"Better not..." Unlike Bodhi, Garrick would certainly win a tug of war for the covers. "You're awake anyway now, so you might as well do me the favor and get up," you reason. "Please!"

Bodhi makes another attempt to get his comforter back. "Why do you even want me to get up? It's still dark and it's cold. You can stay here if you just let me sleep some more, how about that?"

For a moment, you consider it, always tempted by the prospect of cuddles. But there's a fresh layer of snow waiting outside, glittering in the fading moonlight and just about begging you to be the first to leave your footprints in it.

"Nope. Get up, we're building a snowman."

Knowing when it's time to give up, Bodhi stops fighting and drops his hands. "Ugh, fine. Get off me, then."

"Can we bake cookies today?" you ask Xaden later that morning, coming up behind him in the line for breakfast and jumping onto his back.

"I have to—" he starts, shaking his head, but you interrupt him. Whatever oh so important stuff he thinks he has to get done today, it can't possibly be more important than cookies.

"Nuh-uh. Fuck that. You can take a break from all your big bad responsibilities."

"You do remember we're at war, right?" He shakes you off, turning to lift a brow at you.

"War can wait!"

"That's not how that works."

"You're not going to bring on the end of the world by taking a day off, Xaden. Give yourself a break. You deserve it."

"You know how useless it is to argue with her about when to bake," Bodhi comes to your aid. "If there's snow, there have to be cookies, too. And she's right, you really fucking deserve a day off."

Xaden scowls, but you can tell how much he wants to give in. "Teaming up on me now, are you?"

"We always baked cookies as soon as it properly snowed," you insist, barely stopping yourself from stomping your foot like an angry toddler. "It's bad enough that we couldn't do it the last six years, but now we're finally home, so we have to do it again! Please!"

Xaden looks between you and Bodhi, both giving him the same pleading look, sighs and raises his palms in defeat. "Fine. But only if Violet can join, too."

"Of course." You grin, throwing yourself at him in a hug. "Thank you! I'll tell Garrick."

Xaden grabs you by the back of your shirt before you can run off. "Breakfast first, though. Let's just meet in the kitchen in about an hour, okay?"

You agree, and leave them standing there when Xaden lets go of you.

"—dragged me out of bed to play in the snow at five this morning," Bodhi is complaining when he walks into the kitchen with Xaden, Garrick and Violet an hour later, but the smile he can't quite hide gives away that he didn't mind it nearly as much as he's pretending.

You've already prepared the dough for one of the recipes you plan on making while you waited for them. Wiping your hands on your apron, you turn to face them, hands on your hips. "You guys are late."

"Looks like you're doing just fine without us," Xaden remarks with a pointed look at the ball of dough before you.

"Yeah, well, as you should know, this has to be in the cold for at least an hour or two before we can roll it out and cut the cookies without it crumbling," you say and open the window, placing the dough outside on the snow-dusted windowsill. "Let's make the white almond ones in the meantime, yeah?"

Bodhi scrunches his face in thought. "Almond ones? What almond ones?"

"I think she means those ugly cloud looking blobs that fall apart when you bite into them," Garrick says.

"Ohh, fuck yeah! I love those," Bodhi agrees, reaching for one of the aprons hanging on hooks in the corner. "Let's go!"

You nod, but before you can get started, the others need aprons too. Garrick and Violet obediently put on the ones you hand them, but a certain someone decides to be difficult.

Folding his arms across his chest, your brother glares down at the brightly striped fabric you hold out to him. "I don't take orders from first-years. And I'm definitely not wearing a fucking apron."

"Yes, you are. If you don't, you can get right the fuck out, and if you don't help, you won't get any cookies, either."

Xaden might be in charge on the battlefield, but in the kitchen, you are the boss. He knows it, too, snatching the apron from your hand and tying it around his waist while grumbling something about you being a brat under his breath. Everyone seems to agree on that today, but as long as they do what you want, that's fine with you.

You grab a fresh bowl and instruct Bodhi to hand you four eggs while Garrick searches for the whisk.

"Did everyone wash their hands?" Violet makes sure, and you all nod.

"Okay, so what's first?" Bodhi asks, placing the eggs on the counter before you.

"First someone has to separate four eggs for me."

"Still haven't learned how to do it?" Xaden teases, cracking an egg as Garrick takes another to do the same.

"I have, actually," you inform him. "It's just that you're better at it."

"Are we? Or do you just not like having sticky hands from the eggs running over them?"

"Both." You shrug with an unapologetic grin. "You can put the yolks aside, we only need the whites for this."

"What do we do with them?"

"Beat until very stiff, and slowly add in the sugar," you reply, taking the whisk and getting started once all four egg whites are in the bowl. Needless to say, your enthusiasm doesn't last long. "My arm hurts."

"Seriously?" Xaden laughs. "You're a bonded rider, strongest of your year, yet you still can't whisk a bunch of eggwhites?"

"I didn't say I can't. I just said my arm is tired. If you don't want to help me, I'm perfectly capable of finishing this on my own."

"Just give it here," Xaden says, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he takes the bowl from you and continues whisking with an efficiency you can only envy. Soon the eggs turn into a fluffy foam, and you slowly add in the sugar while Xaden keeps mixing.

"Okay, now to carefully fold the almond slivers into the mass."

You take that task upon yourself, Violet slowly adding in the almonds for you while Xaden prepares the baking tray and grabs some teaspoons with which to transfer the mass.

The three of you scoop it onto the baking tray in small piles, while Bodhi goes poking at the dough on the windowsill. "Should we start rolling this out while you get those into the oven?"

"You can check if it's cold enough, but it's probably still too soft." Garrick opens his mouth, and you whirl around to point your spoon at him. "Don't you dare make a dick joke," you warn.

"I'd never!"

"Then what were you going to say, huh?"

Garrick clears his throat and looks away, damning himself with his lack of answer.

You nod. "That's what I thought. Close the window, Bodhi, there's no point cutting those yet if we have to wait until these are done to put them in the oven, anyway."

While you place the baking tray in the oven, Xaden offers the batter rests to Violet behind your back — predictable, but still disappointing.

You jump to their side. "Let me too!"

Xaden rolls his eyes, and Violet laughs. "Don't worry, there's enough for all of us. We could've probably gotten a couple more cookies out of this."

"Probably, but we've earned a treat."

"I thought the cookies are going to be our treat?"

"Well, yeah. But we also deserve a treat now."

"So, how long do these have to be in the oven?" Garrick asks.

"About an hour."

"Great, and what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Wait for them to be done?"

"I'm not going to sit here doing nothing for an hour!"

"We could have a snowball fight," you suggest.

"Absolutely not," Xaden immediately shuts you down. "The cookies would be ashes by the time we make it back inside."

"Let's play memory," Bodhi suggests. "You still have one somewhere, don't you?"

"More like half a dozen of 'em," Xaden scoffs under his breath.

"Yeah, I think so," you reply.

Since Xaden isn't entirely wrong about a snowball fight taking too long, you go with Bodhi's idea. Five minutes of digging through a sideboard you haven't touched since your return to Aretia turns up a whole pile of old board and card games, Bodhi's favorite memory among them.

"Xaden, you keep an eye on the time," you order, laying out the cards under the boys' watchful gazes. It may have been years since you've played any games together, but apparently they remember all to well how much you used to cheat at most of them.

"Always me," your brother complains, but dutifully takes out his pocket watch.

It doesn't take long until you regret that you didn't even try to cheat. You'd never had to, always the champion when it came to memory. But then of course, you'd never played it with Violet before. She's crazy good at this. While you have a meager three pairs so far, she is collecting pair after pair, her stack of cards already bigger than all of your and the boys' put together.

Twice she wins, leaving you in second place. You're about to demand you play another round, but the time is up, and Xaden drags you to your feet.

"Stop sulking and come take the cookies from the oven."

"Fine, but I want a rematch later," you insist, still pouting a little as you follow him to the kitchen.

Violet offers you a smile. "Sure. We can play as many rounds as you want."

"Oh, you'll regret that," Xaden laughs. "She'll keep you up till morning, or until you let her win."

You gasp. "Let me win?! No, no, no. Don't you dare!"

Violet laughs, putting her hands up. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on it."

The almond meringues turn out perfect, and after everyone tries one and the rest are put away, you start on the butter cookies. By now, the dough is perfectly chilled, and Xaden easily rolls it out as thin as possible.

There's only one problem.

"Where the fuck are our cookie cutters?!"

"They're not in the drawer," Bodhi reports, shrugging apologetically when your glare darkens even more at his words.

You look from him to Xaden to Garrick, skipping over Violet, since she certainly had nothing to do with this. "Okay, which of you idiots—"

"Oh, no," Xaden interrupts you. "Don't blame this on us. As you said yourself, you're the one in charge of the kitchen, and you were the last one to put them away before the apostasy."

"Yeah, well, I definitely put them in the drawer where they belong, so—"

You stop short as Violet takes a small tin box from one of the cabinets, holding it out to you so you can see inside. "Are these the cookie cutters we're looking for?"

"Yes!" You beam at her, grateful she had the sense to just search while you others stood and argued. Then your face darkens again as you realize none of you would've put them into that particular cabinet, with the fancy tea service of all things. Which means— "Someone used our cookie cutters while we were gone."

"Apparently." Bodhi shrugs. "So what?"

"Those are ours!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, baby. And they're all still here, so it's not a big deal. Now do you want to throw a tantrum or are we going to make cookies?"

Thus made aware of how childish you're being, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down and mutter, "Make cookies."

Bodhi nods. "Thought so. Come on then, you can cut the first one."

You don't have to be told twice, deciding on the star-shaped one. The others grab cutters too, and soon the first tray of cookies is in the oven.

"When we were kids we did this every winter," you tell Violet, grinning at the memory as you work side by side, filling a second tray. "It was a whole tradition, with Garrick coming over for the weekend and the four of us building a pillow fort in Xaden's room and sleeping there in a huge pile of fluffy blankets and cookie crumbs."

"Sounds fun."

"It was. Is. I think we're too big for the pillow fort part, though." When Bodhi gasps and stares at you as if you just declared the end of the world, you amend, "Well, at least Xaden and Garrick are. I guess we could make one without them and put a sign in the entrance that says 'no giants allowed' or something."

"Excuse you?!" Xaden crosses his arms, glaring down at you. "No way you're building a blanket fort without us."

"It's not my fault you'd bring the whole thing crashing down!"

"We wouldn't!"

"Sure you would!"

"We'll just have to make it a big pillow fort," Bodhi tries to dissolve the argument. "Then we can all fit inside."

"But a big pillow fort isn't as cozy as a small one!"

"If we use enough blankets and pillows it will be," Garrick insists, adding, "Now stop being a brat and take those cookies from the oven before they burn."

You pivot to look into the oven, and sure enough the first batch is already a little darker than the soft golden shade they're supposed to turn. Cursing Garrick for not taking them out himself upon seeing this, and muttering about how he isn't the boss of you, you hurriedly rescue the poor cookies.

The rest turn out better, and time seems to fly until all that's left to do is decorate them.

"Don't you think that's a bit too much chocolate?" Violet asks, looking over your shoulder as you melt it on the stove.

"Probably," you admit, "but better too much than too little."

"Especially since more of it will end up in two certain someones' stomachs instead of on the cookies," Garrick laughs.

Bodhi nods, adding, "Between Xaden and Y/N, getting rid of leftover chocolate definitely won't be an issue."

"Oh, shut up, Bodhi, you're no better!"

When your cousin tries to object to that accusation, you grab another cookie and shove it in his mouth. It earns you a kick against your shin, but at least you get the last word.

Not that him and Garrick were wrong, exactly, you silently admit as you catch yourself licking chocolate from your fingers for the umpteenth time a little later. But it's hardly your fault that decorating always makes such a mess, and covering everything in chocolate-fingerprints would be worse.

And there! A whole spoonful of chocolate glazing disappears into Bodhi's mouth, hypocrite that he is! Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow at him, but he just grins and shrugs.

You blow a raspberry at him, and focus back on the cookie you're decorating.

"We should have dinner and finish this later," Garrick suggests when about half the cookies are decorated.

You blink at him, taking another cookie and slowly shoving the whole thing into your mouth while staring him down from your seat on the counter.

He blows out an exasperated breath. "No, Y/N, we can't have only cookies for dinner."

You share a look with your brother.

"I mean, we could," he says slowly, like he's only just realizing it. "Who's going to stop us?"

"Common sense?" Violet suggests, but judging by the way she's eyeing the fresh cookies, you doubt it'd take much to convince her.

"We already had nothing but cookies for lunch," Garrick gripes. "I need some real food!"

"He's not wrong," Bodhi admits.

Violet also nods, giving Xaden an apologetic smile. "I could use a proper meal too."

Xaden looks at you. "Guess we're overruled."

"Fiiine," you sigh. "Let's eat some real food."

After your dinner break, it takes another hour to finish decorating the cookies, and by the time you've cleaned up, it's full night outside.

"Okay, so are we serious about doing the sleepover, too?" Garrick asks.

"Of course! Right, Xay?"

He shrugs, pretending nonchalance, but you know him too well to fall for that. He loves the blanket fort part of this tradition. "If you insist."

Damn right you do. Someone has to, after all, and if everyone else is too used to playing the responsible adult, well, you have no problem being the childish one and forcing happiness upon them.

The others agree too, and Bodhi slaps his hands. "Okay, let's go then."

"Wait, but we're not done," you hold them back. "I want to make those nougat thingies too!"

"Those aren't cookies," Bodhi says.

"I don't care what they are, I want them."

Xaden ruffles your hair. "We'll make them tomorrow, okay? It's late, and we still have to put up the pillow fort."

"And don't forget that you wanted to play another round of memory," Garrick reminds you, "though why you would want to torture yourself like that is beyond me."

You reluctantly give in, since you know Xaden likes the nougat treats just as much as you do, and will probably keep word about making them tomorrow. It really has gotten late, you realize, yawning wide around another cookie.

Bodhi is already piling more onto a plate to take up to Xaden's room for later, along with a teapot full of hot chocolate.

"Okay, everyone get all the blankets and pillows you have and bring them to Xaden's room." Pointing at Violet and Xaden you add, "You take the cookies and hot chocolate, but leave some for us!"

No sooner said than done, you're all gathered in Xaden's room a few minutes later, a huge pile of blankets and pillows dumped onto his bed. You stand around it in a rough circle, staring at your building material in thoughtful silence.

"Sooo... How did this work again?" Garrick finally says.

Xaden scratches his head, then slowly walks to his desk and takes the chair, moving it so it's a few steps away from the desk. "We definitely need this over here to hold up the blankets."

"I think we always used to tuck one side of the top blanket into the armoire," you say, "and then tie the other end to the chair, right?"

Bodhi nods. "And then we drape another one across from the desk and also tie it to the chair."

"Okay, let's try that and then go from there," Xaden decides. "Just keep in mind that it has to be bigger than it used to."

"Yeah, yeah. We know."

After forty minutes, two failed attempts and half a dozen arguments about the correct layout of a pillow fort, you're finally finished, and this time, it's sturdy and big enough that everyone is satisfied with the result.

"Perfect." You spread out on a pile of pillows, admiring your handiwork. "I think this might actually be the best blanket fort we've ever built."

Xaden nods, but then nudges you with his foot before you can get truly comfortable. "You have chocolate all over your sleeve, bug. Go get changed before you get everything dirty."

Since pajamas will be much more comfortable anyway, you all head back to your own rooms to get changed, before meeting back in Xaden's room.

"Not a fucking word," you growl after a single look at the barely suppressed grins on the boys' faces upon your entering the room.

"You've had those pajamas since you were, what, ten? And you still have to roll up the pants' legs?" Garrick laughs.

"It's not my fault they made these for fucking spiders or something!"

"Spiders?" Bodhi chokes out, laughing so hard you're sure he'll bring the whole pillow fort crashing down any moment.

Even Xaden is laughing, though he tries to hide his face against Violet's neck. She's chuckling too, but there's a look on her face that tells you that too long pants are an issue she, too, is familiar with.

"Yeah! No one who isn't a spider has legs so abnormally long!"

The boys only laugh harder, and yeah, okay, the spider comparison is ridiculous. Whatever.

Since you're not going to just stand there and let them laugh at you, you grab one of the pillows not yet inside the fort and hurl it straight at Garrick's face. He's the one who started making fun of you, and the only one standing far enough away from the pillow fort that you can be sure you won't accidentally tear it down.

Your aim is true, and Garrick takes a step back with an angry yelp, catching the pillow before it can hit the floor to fire it right back you. You duck beneath it, jumping behind the bed for cover and grabbing the last two pillows left on it.

Garrick ducks into the pillow fort for ammunition of his own — a perfect target. One pillow hits his behind just as intended, but the other flies past him, hitting Bodhi instead. Your cousin narrows his eyes at you, picking up the pillow and nodding at Garrick.

They're ganging up on you — and you're out of ammo.

Ducking behind the cover of the bed again proves useless, as they come rushing around it seconds later, both of their arms loaded with pillows they start firing at you as soon as they're in range.

"Xay, help!" you squeal, picking up one of the pillows they threw at you to defend yourself as you retreat toward the wall.

Your brother takes his time coming to your rescue, but his picking up a pillow and slowly walking over is enough to draw Garrick's attention away from you. Faced with only Bodhi now, you have room to go into the offense yourself.

"Every time," Xaden grumbles, his shadows saving you from getting hit on the head by a bunch of books a stray pillow knocks from the shelf above you. "They do this every fucking time."

You grin, jumping on top of Bodhi, who has fallen onto Xaden's bed, and think to yourself that that's exactly why you always have these sleepovers in Xaden's room and not yours. He doesn't have nearly as much fragile knickknacks on his shelves as you do.

Bodhi puts his years of sparring experience to use and easily breaks your hold on him, rolling both of you to the side — and right off the bed.

You slam into the floor with a loud thud, the carpet doing nothing to cushion your fall as Bodhi's weight on top of you crushes the air from your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes at the pain shooting through the back of your head.

"Ow," you whimper, the sound embarrassingly high pitched and whiny.

Shadows grab Bodhi by the back of his shirt and lift him off you before he can react as Xaden rushes to your side. You swat his hands away from your head, blink a few times to clear your vision, mumbling that you're fine.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three." You slowly sit up, slowly regaining your composure. "Now get out of my face, I'm fine."

"Let me see your head," Xaden insists. "The way it sounded, you hit it pretty hard."

Since you know the stubborn ass won't back off, you let him inspect the back of your head, waving Bodhi's apology aside. Gods know your roughhousing has lead to this kind of accident often enough over the years that it's no big deal.

"Doesn't look too bad," Xaden decrees. "But you'll probably get quite the bump."

"Told you I'm fine."

"Still, you should probably—"

Spotting a pillow on the floor just inside your reach, you grab it and hurl yourself at Bodhi, ignoring whatever your brother is trying to say.

"Haven't you had enough?" Bodhi asks, struggling to fend you off.

"No."

"—rest." Xaden sighs. "Right. Never mind, then."

You jump to your feet, bumping your brother's shoulder. "Come on, you, me, and Vi against Bodhi and Garrick!"

"Hold up, why should it be three against two in your favor?!" Garrick complains.

"Because Vi and me are small."

Bodhi rolls his eyes. "As if that makes any difference! Everyone against everyone would be fairer!"

"I don't care, I want teams!"

You don't give them the chance to argue any more, throwing one pillow at Garrick and hitting Bodhi over the head with another.

Violet shrugs and joins you, leaving your brother no choice but to go along too.

You're very glad Violet is on your team; her aim is immaculate, every pillow she throws landing right on target — unlike yours, which uselessly smack against the wall half of the time. But you do your part too, keeping hold of your favorite fuzzy pillow and hitting your opponents with it every time they come within your reach.

Finally, Bodhi and Garrick surrender. After moving all the pillows back into the blanket fort, you flop onto them, thoroughly exhausted. The memory rematch will have to wait until morning, you decide. Tired as you are, your chances of beating Violet at it are worse than ever.

"Good night guys," you mumble, feeling one of the others settle down at your side. You don't hear their reply anymore, already drifting off.

When you wake up, your arms have both fallen asleep, trapped underneath yourself and Bodhi respectively. You try to untangle yourself without waking anyone, but Bodhi stirs.

"Not this again, Y/N," he mumbles, clearly remembering your shenanigans from the morning before.

"No, we can sleep some more," you whisper back. "I just have to pee."

Bodhi grunts and rolls over to go back to sleep, leaving you to try and pick your way between the others without stepping on anyone in the dark somehow.

On the way back from the bathroom, you decide to grab a snack while you're up anyway. But as you approach the plate of cookies, a sound coming from its direction has you stopping in your tracks. It almost sounds like... chewing?

Yes, it's definitely chewing. A cookie thief, beating you to your midnight snack.

Tiptoing closer, you try to make out the person's silhouette, but it's too dark. Well, whoever it is, they're in for an unpleasant time if they took the last of the cookies. You're fully awake now and craving sugar, and you absolutely refuse to walk all the way to the kitchen for a cookie.

Your stretched out hand makes contact with someone's head, an annoyed huff their only reaction. Recognizing your brother when your fingers skim the line of his eyebrow-scar, you remove your hand from the proximity of accidentally poking him in the eye and instead feel around for the plate of cookies.

Of course it's Xaden. And of course your approach didn't startle him, what with his shadow powers. He's probably been silently laughing at you the whole time as you clumsily felt your way through the dark. Well, just wait until you get a signet, too. Then you'll show him.

But for now, cookies. You're convinced Xaden is deliberately moving the plate from your reach, otherwise you certainly would've touched it by now. Hearing him bite into another cookie as you still unsuccessfully feel around, you've had enough.

"Share!" you hiss, hand finding his arm and moving along it in hopes of finding the plate, but no luck. His hand is empty.

"The plate's right in front of you," he whispers back, and you swear you can hear him smirking. "Just take one."

"Asshole."

But this time you listen closely to his movements when he takes another cookie, and reaching into that spot, your hand closes around one too. And it's the last one, you realize, sliding your other hand over the plate as you bite into the cookie. It's Xaden's luck he let you have it, otherwise you might've had to draw a dick on his face as revenge while he slept.

Speaking of sleep, you really should go back to bed.

Xaden seems to have had the same thought. His hand brushes over the top of your head as he steps around you, then shadows wind around your arms and guide you back into the pillow fort after him, saving Bodhi from getting your foot in his face and tucking you in as you snuggle into your cousin's side.

[austinslounge]

After seeing all of the backlash and negativity online against Austin being cast as Patrick Bateman in Luca Guadagnino's upcoming "American Psycho" film, here's just a friendly reminder of how the internet reacted back in 2006 when Heath Ledger was cast as The Joker in Christopher Nolan's film "The Dark Knight". 😏

☆

☆

☆

☆

☆

🤭

The way people wanted Johnny Depp, Crispin Glover, Mark Hamill (what?? 🥴 Lol) or Christopher Walken lol.

The way people were saying that nobody would ever beat Jack Nicholson's portrayal of The Joker lol...🤭 all while not realizing that Nolan had a totally different vision in mind for his Batman film.

Does this all sound familiar??

Guess who got the last laugh? 😏

I don't know why people online don't just trust casting directors and let them do their jobs? 🥴 If Luca chose Austin for the role, it's for a good reason. Most people need to just trust the directors, because 9 times out of 10, they are 100% spot on with their casting choices, and they choose the best actor for a lead role, even if the public can't see that yet.

I also don't understand why people assume that just because an actor hasn't done a particular role before, that they should never do that type of role ever in life. How do you think other actors got to do those roles? They all had to start somewhere!

Anyway, reading these reactions to Heath being cast as The Joker back in 2006, and then knowing how he absolutely killed it in the film (to the point where he's now the standard) gives me the biggest chuckle. 🤣 I can't believe people were so rude back then.

They spoke way too soon. 🤭

Moral of the story? - Trust the Directors, people. They cast actors for certain roles for a reason. People online need to just sit back and trust the process.

Austin is an amazing talent, very dedicated, hard-working, and gives 110% to any role (no matter how small) he's given. I have full trust in him that he will actually probably shock people with this "American Psycho" role. 😊

He's always said that he loves to take on roles that challenge or scare him, so I'm so glad he's getting this chance to work with Luca! 😁

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Savanaclaw boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Let me know if you’d want to see other dorms!

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Leona🦁:

Mans would probably do the bare minimum, IM SORRY LOL

he’d have Ruggie get you food, and honestly he’d just be there for moral support

He probably doesn’t care about getting sick himself, so I can see him getting into bed with you and just laying next to you, being a personal’s heater you can cuddle into or not

Medicines? Sure…he’ll remember you need to take them, and that’s about the only useful thing he does by himself

If you throw up or anything he’ll just look at you with narrowed eyes and have Ruggie help you, then he’ll cuddle you again to get you to relax

I don't have much for him…like I said he’d probably make Ruggie do everything 😭

Ruggie💰:

Walks in with a whole bunch of items he bought(with Leona’s money, obvi.)

He’ll he you’re personal butler for the day, or as long as your sick, but you’ll pay him back, right? Yea? Gooooood!

He’ll grab you whatever you need in the blink of an eye, and he’ll cook nutritional meals for you to make sure you get better

He’ll do laundry, and I mean, mans gets “paid” to clean, so he’ll disinfect surfaces and make sure your sheets and blankets are all nice and fresh!

Medicines he’ll be on top of in my opinion…but if you have any left over after you’re better, he’ll take them off your hands. What? No, not to sell them or anything- no, totally to sell them

Hey, at least he’s there to support you and make you feel at least a little better

Pay him back

Seriously

He worked hard

He deserves it—

Jack 🐺:

For some reason I feel this man would try and get you to sweat the sickness out, you’re coughing up a storm or something and he’s having you do sit ups in bed or something, I don’t think that’s a good idea

Like dude…

But besides that, he’d be concerned, his tail would swish slowly and idly as he Just stands there watching you, a little unsure of what to do

If you ask him for something, he’s right on to doing it

Protein dense meals, will say you need it to get stronger again. Sure, I guess that’ll work for you, maybe

He’ll check the time to gauge when you need to take your medicine again, so he’d be pretty persistent with that

He’s strong so he’s not gonna be scared of getting sick.

If you ask to touch his tail while your sick, he probably will let you for once, out of pity though

Another Drabble done, expect another one soon my lovelies. And also, I just wanna say thank u all so much for all the likes I’ve been getting, it brightens up my dull days, lol ❤️

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[rodolfoparras]

okay i have this issue where my zoloft makes me like… really sweaty for some reason??? just all the time night or day hot or cold. anyways i was just thinking abt reader who has something like that and is always trying to shower before price can tell meanwhile price whi is just Obsessed with how his sweaty bf smells 😩

i want to send more anons but i get nervous… but could i be 🐶 or 🐾 anon?

Pairing: John Price x Male Reader

Cw: 18+, scent kink, somnophilia,

Price would rather be caught dead than to openly admit this but he loves the way you smell.

And while many may say that they feel the same way about their own partners, they probably haven’t gotten hard just from their partner’s sweat and musk. They probably haven’t had their nose buried deep in one of their partner’s dirty gym shirts or worn work uniform while jerking off. They probably haven’t spent hours buried between their partner’s legs because they liked the way their partner’s cologne or lotion smelled.

Yeah Price would rather be caught dead than admit to any of it.

And while a part of him feels guilty for not telling you about it another part of him cant help but find it exciting

You’ll happily let him cuddle up in your embrace after a long day, completely unaware of the thoughts rushing through his head. You don’t say a thing when you notice most of your clothes missing, and you’ll happily let him suck you off, not putting much thought into what’s gotten him so worked up.

But you find out soon enough.

It’s when you get home from work one day, limbs aching, and in need of sleep but before you can do so you desperately need to get under a hot stream.

However Price is adamant on getting you in bed, and while you’d happily stumble into the sheets with him, he had made it clear that he just wants to sleep.

“Let’s just go to bed” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently nudging you over to the bed.

“But I’ll be quick, I promise, give me like 5 minutes,” you insist, not budging an inch.

“Don’t you think I know you kid? You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood by the time you’re done, besides I don’t get what’s the issue here,” Price says while folding his arms across his chest

“The issue is that I stink” you say thinking that will be enough to convince him.

“Not like you’re going anywhere anyways” You raise a brow at his words, and he only mirrors your action in response.

“Fine you win” you say with a roll of your eyes trying your best to hide your smile . “But if I hear any complaining about how I smell I’m kicking you out of bed,”

“Just turn the lights off, will you?” He says with a chuckle before he lays down.

“Yeah yeah” is all you say as you discard your pants and Price takes a second to appreciate the view before the room is engulfed in darkness.

As soon as you lay down in bed he crawls up into your embrace, burying his head in your neck while wrapping his arms around your waist.

Price let’s out a relived sigh.

This is all he’d wanted today, to feel your warm skin press up against him, to hear your heartbeat against his ear and to have your smell engulf his senses.

He feels relaxed, at ease, should be falling asleep but instead he feels his cock twitching in attention

Fuck.

Price’s eyes snap open, cerulean eyes gazing into the darkness, painfully aware of the way blood is pooling to his lower half all of a sudden.

You on the other hand, are dead asleep next to him. He can hear the soft snores escaping your lips.

Price can't blame you. It’s been a long day for you. He too should go to sleep, but instead he’s painfully hard because he can smell you all over him.

How fucking embarrassing.

Price scoffs at himself, tries to pull away from your embrace but just as he tries to do so you tighten your arms around his waist.

Great.

Price exhales, squeezes his eyes shut, tries to scramble his brain for anything that might kill his boner but it’s practically impossible when he’s a hair away from your pit, engulfed in the smell of your cologne and the sweat that’s still sticking to your skin.

On top of that he’s got his hard on firmly pressed up against your very naked thighs.

He can’t think about anything other than about how much he needs you right now.

I really wouldn’t mind if you woke me up during the night or you know, if you didn’t..

The words you had once said to him ring through his head, and for a second he wonders if he should take you up on the offer. I mean you did said you wouldn’t mind it but…

Before he can register what he’s doing, he starts moving his hips, eyes fluttering shut as needy noises start escaping his lips.

It’s disgusting

it’s wrong

He shouldn’t be doing this

But he can’t get himself to stop moving his hips.

Whines and whimpers escape his lips as he continues to rock his hips, head burying deeper in your chest and engulfing himself in your scent completely.

You’re still asleep going by your soft snores and the way you lay lax next to him. Something about the fact that you’re unaware of what he’s doing has goosebumps rising across his skin, and slowly but surely he feels himself inching closer to his release.

“Please,” he croaks out just the way he would if he was riding your cock right now and that’s all it takes before he’s tipping over the edge, coming with a cry and soiling his sweats.

“John?” He hears your sleep coated voice trickle through the dark.

[l0vesecretsociety]

KEEPING TABS

“For some stupid reason, I keep on believing.” 

tags: ekko x fem! reader, angst. oneshot. warnings: none. art, not mine.

Ekko should’ve seen this coming. For all the ways he has been treating you, how he’d wrong you, he knew you’d eventually drift away and the both of you would soon break. But the thing was,  he’d still be pacing back and forth over at his worksop, thinking about all the ways he could’ve done something. Something to prevent this, instead of tinkering with a new invention to prosper his home. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he bangs his head lightly on the bark of the tree. He tells himself to move on, that it’s your loss, not his. He tries so hard to go back to work but his brain just automatically malfunctions because it's flooded with your image. He’s angry at every little mistake he makes and throws it away to make up for it. 

Then a bulb pops up above his head. No. He shakes his head, let’s not do that. 

But he does anyway. Ekko flies over in the middle of the night while everyone is fast asleep,  the sound of his engine clunks as he zooms through Zaun. He had to know what you were up to these days. Logically, you would’ve been asleep now, but knowing you, you’re probably buried your nose deep into a book. And he just had to know you were doing what his mind imagines, maybe then he’ll work better. Seeing you was close enough. And when he does arrive at his destination—aka your small apartment, he sees you and as he guessed, sleeping on top of your book, a pen still in your hand. Ekko purses his lip at the sight, he wants to place a blanket over you to make you feel warm, but he knows he’s already crossed the line. He swallowed hard, at truth—at the reality of it all, that you were no longer his.  He sighs, taking one more look back at your figure before leaving to go back home. 

Funny is that word, home. Where is that now, when there is only a cold room he traps himself in and nothing of you. He could no longer feel your warmth, he desperately yearned. He clenched his jaw and ran back to work. Work. That’s all he ever does even as you were there beside him, and you’ve been there for him, always, and he appreciated so much—but then you slipped away from his grasp. Took him long enough to realize that. He really needs to get over you, but the ghost of your warmth hovers over him in a constant  cycle. 

Everyone could tell he was out of it. Scar tries to leave him alone for a while, letting him cope on his own. Scar has been through that kind of heartbreak before and he knows what’s best. Even the kids are bothered, and kids can see through lies, you know. They’re more honest than the law, and they’re not shy to point out what's happening with Ekko right now. Ekko just brushes them off with a smile and a good excuse (not really), but the more he lies to them, the more they ask. 

“You’ve been distracted lately.” Scar says, arms crossed, leaning on to the door frame. 

“I’m fine.” Scar thinks, no, knows it was bs. What started as one night thing, something for closure, now became a nightly thing. Mission after mission, he’s been disappearing into the fog. If he wasn’t out on the mission, he took the night when everyone else was asleep. Scar knows where he was going, where he was running back to. It’s truly spine chilling what you’ve done to him, a guy whose painfully and awfully focused on his work—on his goal of building a wonderful community, now going around town looking for you causing bits of mishaps here and there. He thought it was just one of your quarrels, a small trouble in paradise, not a full on separation. Scar felt guilty of not being able to help out Ekko and convince you to stay.  Why should he? It was not his to begin with, but it was driving him to the edge the way Ekko was acting right now. 

“I’m serious, Ekko.” 

“Well, I am too.” That he was, he’d become humourless the past few months. “Could you just… leave me alone,” he says, calling back his focus on his new ‘invention,’ and knowing him, it was just another crap idea he pulled out of his ass.  It was true, there was no lie to that. Ekko, despite his circumstances, was smart. He was a bright engineer who embedded all sorts of science and math into his work, but now- at this point, he’s just glueing cogs together. Everything he created reminded him of you. Your favourite flowers, your little book idea, and your nerdy phrases on the books he reads. It frustrated him because deep inside, he kept on believing that you felt the same too. That you pretend you were there with him on the bed, snuggled together, sharing each other’s warmth the same way he did.  That your ear perks up too, every time you hear his name like he does. 

He really needs to get over you. He tries, he does, really. But he can’t help but want to see you all time, when wearing your Academy uniform and the cute bow completing your look or in your own outfits. You were glowing, flourishing, without him. He wants to talk to you, and get this over and done with. He wants his heart to stop clenching every time you talk to another guy or smile at them, he wants his head to think straight, he wants to rid himself of you. The troubling thing was, he can’t and a part of him doesn’t want to. Ekko knows he should move on, he knows that he’s hurt you, he knows he shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you—that he should let go of you. He could only wish you back, will you to walk the same path towards the firelight tree as him because he knows, you’ll never do anymore.

[sohya]

sweat it out

-> f!reader x aoi todo

-> 3.7k words

-> gym workout talk. spit play. impact play. oral. big dick. size difference. possibly ooc todo. creampie.

-> last attempt. if fuckass tumblr hides it again im gonna p** myself and not in a good way

tagging: @suyacho

“oh, hey, lil cub. what’s on for today?”

there’s only one person in the entire world who calls you ‘lil cub’, and it isn’t even in a demeaning way. everyone is little compared to a giant brute like aoi, but for some reason, he’d adopted you with ‘cub’ after the title.

you look up from your spot by your pigeonhole to see aoi walking over to you. built torso, thick thighs and hair tied up into a bun like it’s his signature look. while the exposed skin on his chest is tantalizing to look at, the real treat comes from the gymshark shorts he wears that does nothing to hide the bulge in between his legs. 

“just arms for today,” you look away lest you get caught staring at the most vulnerable part of your gym partner. “something short and quick.”

so you can get you and your ovulating self out of his presence sooner. 

“great. i’ll spot you.” he grins as he rests a heavy hand down on your shoulder. like the rest of him, it’s huge and you engage your core to right yourself when his palm tilts you to the side.

you let out a chuckle as you shrug his hand off to slip your hoodie off before stuffing it into your designated box. you’ve stopped feeling bad about taking him away from his workouts, given he’s always been insistent on helping you and to be honest, a man like him doesn’t need to be lifting weights every second of his life anyways. that and you actually appreciate the tips he gives you, at least that’s what you tell yourself. 

as you follow after him, his longer legs making him advance in front of you, your eyes fall to his bubble ass that doesn't hide just how he really takes the workouts for every part of his body seriously. you look up to the ceiling, your fingers fumbling with the handle of your water bottle as your womanly instincts kick in. 

“actually, aoi,” he looks back at you, a curious eyebrow raised, “i might work on my glutes today. it’s been a while.” 

you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked down to your thighs at that very moment but anyone else would probably tell you it was just a blink. “i think that’s a great idea, lil cub.” 

you’re stern in telling aoi that you won’t be here for long so he curates a shorter workout for you to do. hip thrusts are first and you attempt to put on a show for your personal spectator, grunting as you exert your strength to push the barbell up into the air, then sighing softly as you lower your hips again. there’s brazen interest in his eyes when you look up at him in between your second and third set but he doesn’t entertain you with anything, taking his role as a personal trainer seriously.

but like it’s some sort of punishment for you, he increases the weights by 10kg in the last set, causing you to struggle with the last rep with clenched teeth and a sound that sounds like too much of a moan than a sound of struggle. as soon as he helps you off the machine he gives you a high five and the image of his hand dwarfing yours has your dizzy mind straightening up immediately.

“good girl.” he completely skips over the unnecessary praise. “that’s the hardest one done. three more to go.” 

having aoi as your unofficial personal trainer is truly beneficial, you have to admit. having someone like him encouraging you to increase your weights and praising you has your mentality going haywire, because it feeds into your act of making sounds that should have his resolve cracking by now. 

aoi comes back holding two 10kg dumbbells. “you’re doing great, lil cub,” he praises as he hands places the weights down by your feet for you to pick up yourself, following gym safety regulations. “rdls for the last set, 12 reps but i want you to hold the last one for 10 seconds.”

his nose crinkles when he laughs at your glare. “you wanna go a weight lower then?”

you wipe the sweat off the bridge of your nose if only to hide your face from him for a short second before you shake your head, “no, i think i can do it.” you bend down to pick the weights up before standing into the correct posture. shoulders tight, core engaged and your feet shoulder width apart. 

a quick scan through the mirror at the rest of the gym makes you realize you two are the only ones left in the premises. which is the only reason you’re confident enough to say what you’re about to say. “it has been a while though. do you mind helping with my form?” you indulge him with a sultry gaze through your lashes.

as if he recognises what you’re doing, aoi steps closer and rests a hand on the small of your back. “‘course, lil cub. that’s what i’m here for, no?”

you barely even finish the second set.

exactly twenty two minutes later, you’re stumbling down the hallway of aoi’s apartment, the faux promise of him giving you your last workout at his place in the back of your mind as your lips clash together in a hungry duel for each other’s taste.

“i have to warn you, though, lil cub.” he says in between desperate kisses before he bursts into his bedroom. “i’m big. like really big.” you pull back to see nothing but pure honesty in his eyes. none of the smugness that would usually come from a guy warning their potential partner about the gigantic size of their dick. “so, if you want to tap out, no hard feelings.”

the warning doesn’t serve as one to you, if anything it only makes you more excited and inclines you to press your stomach up against his crotch. if the weight of it is anything to go by, you can already feel your walls lubricating itself up with your arousal. “that’s not very pt of you,” you taunt, hands grazing down to the hem of his matching gymshark t-shirt. you pull it over his head to rid him of the clothing, “i thought i was here for my last set.”

eager to stump your confidence, aoi picks you up with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. your feet hang in the air as the top of your head hits the ceiling, only possible given his height. “then take these off.” he pinches at your loose t-shirt and you fumble to pull it off your head. 

the second the first sliver of your skin is exposed, aoi’s mouth descends onto it, pressing kisses along your skin and warming your entire body through it. his tongue darts out to lick your skin, still salty from your workout, before it travels up to your chest once you remove your sports bra. he groans into you before he closes his lips on your soft stomach, sucking your skin and licking what hasn’t been cleaned off with his spit. 

aoi’s eyes, which had been previously closed as he cleaned off the ambrosia left on your skin, flutters open to see you staring down at him, clear desperation in your eyes, your brows furrowed and mouth opened to breathe heavy pants into the air. he groans. “fuck no, i can’t wait anymore.”

you’re quickly dropped down, yelping and grabbing onto whatever body part of his on your way down before your knees land on the floor without the pain and his hands supporting you under your arms. you look up at him, his monstrous height making him feel like he’s triple your size. 

but that’s not what you’re focused on. what grabs your attention is his hand disappearing into his shorts, shuffling inside before he grunts out a sound of annoyance and his other fist yanks his shorts down. like a cinematic piece, you watch as his hand draws out his cock, which had been tucked into the right side of his boxers, out of the restriction of his shorts that falls down to pool around his feet. 

half-hard, as thick as the circumference of your clenched fist and a generous 10 inches, you almost tear up at the sight. dripping pre-cum from the slit glistens like a crystal chandelier under the light. heavy balls that you want to smother your face into. nothing could compare to this. you’re struck with awe like you’re witnessing the 8th wonder of the world. 

you let out a sigh and aoi grins, runs his large thumb down the length of his cock, which droops down due its weight, before it runs off the tip of his head and springs up to slap your chin. “close your mouth before you start to drool.” he says with a loud laugh. “actually, no. keep it open.” he prods the tip of his cock against your slightly parted lips, urging him to slip his cock into your hot mouth. 

“it’ll fit,” he promises as if he can see the panic in your eyes, “just let me get the angle right.”

your lips burn as they stretch to accommodate the thick girth of him at the halfway point. at this point is when your eyes start tearing up, another inch and those tears are slipping down your cheeks as your head tilts back for him to descend his hips onto your face. another inch and he’s three quarters of the way while you gag violently around him. a deep inhale through your nose has you recollecting yourself before your source of air is cut off when he hilts himself into your mouth and your nostrils fill up with the soft curls on his pelvis. 

your eyes blink open before snapping shut when they catch a glimpse of his pursed lips and the feeling of his warm spit landing at your eyes warms your face.

“ah- just missed it.” aoi tsks before pulling his cock halfway out before thrusting it back in. his head tips back at the glorious sound of you gagging and choking around his intrusion and subjects you to a few minutes of some brutal and honest face fucking. by the time he pulls out, your shorts and thighs are stained with spit and precum, tits dripping with the same mixture and the lower part of your face dampened in filth. 

“you always make me so proud, lil cub.” he praises but demeans you at the same time with harsh taps to the side of your face, which probably wasn’t his intention but inevitable given the heaviness of his hands. “so pretty.” he compliments as he examines your state.

you whine as you fidget in your spot, hands moving to spread the wetness all over yourself. “a-aoi. c’mon.”

“you wanna get played with, huh, cub?” he hums, his hands cupping the side of your head and tilting your skull around, marveling at how your eyes follow him no matter which way he turns your head. “need something to sweat out, hm?”

he grunts as he bends down, slots an arm between your thighs and hooks you up from your crotch. you yelp when he spins you around so your head is dangling along with his dick. your tongue peaks out to grace it with a kitten lick before your mouth falls open when aoi’s face smothers itself into your wet shorts. 

“you smell so nice, cub.” he huffs. if his dick struggling to fit in your mouth hadn’t made you aware of the drastic size difference between the two of you, then having his face pressed right into your cunt would do it for you. tightening your legs around his head doesn’t sway him from sucking a wet spot into the fabric where your hole would be, instead it just holds him there and doesn’t deter him from your pussy. 

with careful hands, because he knows you’re still sane enough to scold him at one wrong move, he places you down on the bed and pulls your shorts and thin panties off. he flings the latter off to the side, making sure it slips between his bedside drawer and the wall so you’ll give up looking for it when you inevitably leave. 

with your entire body now bare, he buries himself in between your thighs, your sore muscles granted reprieve by relaxing against his warm shoulders as opposed to floating in the air.

“beautiful fucking pussy,” he groans into your folds, “i could drink you up.” 

the words you would have replied with die in your mouth when aoi dips his tongue into your hole, making a show of closing his lips around your opening and slurping the juices that coat his tongue. he’s relentless in the way his entire mouth covers pussy, the heat emanating from him making your toes curl all while your hands fly to the loose bun on his head to hold him still. he’s purposely avoiding your clit and you can tell because his head’s at an awkward position where he’s close enough for his mouth to encompass your heat but the tip of his nose avoids rubbing against your clit, making the warm breaths he’s exhaling into your bud warm your body up even further. 

his tongue works in lapping everything you have to offer, dark eyes zoning in on your expression that you don’t hide away from. your head is tilted up to look at him but every flick of his tongue inside you has your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening in a silent scream. 

but aoi’s patience only runs for so long and as much as he’d love to die and suffocate himself in your pussy, the ache of his rock hard cock chafing against the fabric of his mattress has him going insane. without a word to disrupt his momentum, he pulls his tongue out and closes his mouth around your clit, sucking on it hard enough for your back to arch and your heels to kick at his back. he holds you down with a heavy hand while the other sinks two fingers into your dripping heat. “ah… wait, aoi, nnh! i c-can’t–” you gasp, words falling out of your mind when your stomach begins to warm up as a hint of your impending orgasm.

he ignores your sounds in favor of each thrust that he drags out, focusing on curling his fingers upwards and running against the roof of your walls. you full on go lightheaded when he pulls his fingers out halfway before ramming it back inside, the tips of his fingers rubbing against your walls in a come hither motion on repeat causing your orgasm to wash over you. your mind blanks in what you can only describe as the best climax from getting head you’ve ever had. only thing you can hear and feel is aoi groaning into you as your juices flood into his mouth. 

the loud suckling noises don’t cease your orgasm in any way, if anything it makes it last what feels like an eternity before you come down, twitching and whining into the air. your lungs work in overdrive trying to gather air back into it but you’re not given the chance to properly recover when aoi’s face hovers above yours. only then do you realize the tingling in your pussy was from the aftershocks of your orgasm and not the feeling of his mouth overstimulating you. something in your mind feels disappointed about the fact.

satisfied with how quickly relaxed you become, aoi eases three fingers inside you, watching with a smug grin when you wince at the stretch of the third finger’s addition. “gotta stretch you out some more, cub. as much as it’d be nice to see you cry even more for me,” he pauses to lick the embarrassing streak of tears down your cheeka, “it’s not gonna be good for you in the long run.”

“ahh– i can- i can take it.” you push on, grinding your hips against his knuckles to ease another finger inside. 

“i’m sure you can. my little cub knows how to push herself.” he says as he pulls his fingers out. aoi’s eyes grow dark as they encourage your gaze to stay on his, entire attention focused on him that you only realize what he’s distracting you from when the blunt head of his cock pushes into your hole and makes no move in slowing to accommodate you. “but it’s more for my sake, so your tight pussy doesn’t cut my dick off before i even get myself inside.”

and just like that, you’re forced to take it. him pushing his hips further and further down while his huge cock positively splits you open. the silence is disturbed with your pants and moans of his name that flood out in a series of babbles that would’ve been incoherent if aoi wasn’t slipping into the same state of fucked out bliss like you were. 

“there we go,” he says after another agonizing few seconds, you can just make out the press of his balls against your ass when he looks down at you. his hands are cupped on the juncture between your neck and shoulders and you don’t get the time to wonder why when he uses his hold on you as leverage to pull his hips back and slam back into you, quickly building a rapid pace that has you screaming with nothing to ground you but the thin bed sheets that are threatening to rip apart in your fists. 

“a-aoi. i- n’ver been fuc-fugged this good,” you wail, being forced to take his brutal thrusts with how his hold on you doesn’t allow you to fidget up the mattress.

the compliment doesn’t fly over aoi’s head as he grins and leans down to lick at your open mouth, your tongue immediately flicking out for him to crudely lap at before he purses his lips and hacks a glob of spit onto your awaiting tongue. “yeah i can tell, cub. and you’ll never get anyone to fuck you this good again.” he says like it’s a promise.

like some cringy monologue, he gives a deranged speech with the sound of his hips slapping against yours as background music. “been wanting to fuck you since the very first day.” he releases one hand from your shoulder to decorate your thigh with a hard slap, “wanted to break you since then. didn’t think i’d get there because of how head plap fucking plap strong plap you are, but look at you now.” he sneers in a menacing look but he purses his lips and lands another serving of spit onto your barely open eyes. he chuckles breathlessly when your tongue makes a useless attempt to lick at the added warm puddle on your face. “my broken little fucktoy.” he praises demeaningly.

“aoi.” you breathe his name out like it’s the only sound you can make on top of the pathetic “nnh- don’t stop, please don’t stop. it’s too much… pl-please gimme more–”

in his mind, aoi promises to give you nothing if not more.

“you wan’ more, huh, cub? you think i have more to give you?” he returns his hand by your hip to your face, smothering you and mixing the mess of spit and sweat into your skin, “i’m over here wrecking your precious little cunt and you’re still asking for more? what more could you possibly want?”

“you– your cum… please aoi.” your mind has some semblance to come up with a logical answer quickly which doesn’t satify aoi as much as it should. without warning he pulls out and flips you around and rams his cock back inside you before you even get the chance to whine.

“let this be the arm workout you would’ve done today.” he bites into your earlobe as he speaks, hunching over you and pressing his sweaty chest against your just as sweaty back. “keep yourself up and then i’ll flood your stomach with my cum.” he promises before standing up on his knees, his hands tightly gripping your hips, he leans back and uses that momentum to thrust his hips upwards, cock slamming into you with no reprieve for you whatsoever. 

keeping his words in mind, you mindlessly babble your gratefulness to him as your arms wobble but stubbornly force yourself to stay up. it isn’t long until the head of his cock meeting your sensitive spot overwhelms you, your body tightening up and your arms feeling like jelly as you squeeze around his cock in an orgasm that you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try. “cumming, aoi. ‘mgumming!” you groan as your eyes flutter shut, body pretty much going lax at the powerful orgasm.

“keep your head up.” he takes a hand to cup your neck from the front, forcing your head upwards in a dangerous bend. “got so much fucking tighter, fucking sshh-it.” he grunts, granting you one two three more thrusts before his hips ram into you, cock expanding and deflating while warm cum fills up your inside. you almost swear you can feel it filling your womb up, a special place in your stomach that desperately drinks his cum like it has a mind of it’s own.

the room is filled with tired sounds of disbelief as you come down from your high. aoi is stock still, palming your ass as he throbs minutely inside you. he lands a harsh spank on your ass, causing you to yelp and fall to your face when your arms give out underneath you.

grunting his displeasure, he presses a hand down the small of your back as his hips rear back, ready to subject you to another round of his cock damaging your insides. “aoi… gimme a… sec…hah… i can’t–” you hide your face in your hands with a small wail, sanity crumbling with every slap from aoi’s hard hips to your softer in comparison ass cheeks.

his hand cups your throat again, squeezing it as a warning as he pulls you up to your hands again. “no, cub. i told you to keep yourself up. we’re not done for today until we do three more sets of this.” he grins at your whine as his hips pick up even more momentum. “what kind of gym buddy would i be if i didn’t push you to your limits, hm?”

[whispering-ways]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 2 ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with Katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.

♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)

♡ notes: hi besties! here's part 2 to the first chapter. i should have more time to work on this story and a bunch of other fics since I've officially graduated! i hope you guys like this chapter and let me know if yall want more :) the pink text is the readers texts and the orange is Katsuki.

You heard the alarm on your phone ring, waking you up for the morning. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand to turn it off. You rub your eyes, tired from having to wake up so early the last couple of days. The bus at your new high school came around 6:45, which meant that you had to wake up at at least 5:35 am to get ready. A part of you liked getting up so early; it made you feel on top of things, a true it girl. But the rest of you ached to just swaddle yourself in your plush blankets and sink right back into bed. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit. 

After you splash your face with some water you stare into the mirror, taking notice of your dark circles. “Damn I might need to start using an eye cream or something soon, waking up so early is not doing justice to my skin,” you said out loud. As soon as you said it though, you knew that was a lie. You knew in your heart that the only reason why you were so tired every morning is because you spent every night texting Katsuki. 

By now you figured that he was definitely a night owl but unfortunately, you weren’t. You had always been the type of girl to sleep early, prioritizing your 8 hours of sleep. But if there was one person who could make you disregard your routine, it’d be Katsuki. Over the last couple of days, you both had gotten closer. You’d been talking at school and texting each other seemingly non-stop and you’d say a decent friendship had formed between you two. Something about his texts made your stomach fill with butterflies and you couldn’t help getting excited every time you saw a notification from him pop up on your phone. 

You spent nights staying awake texting Katsuki till 1, 2 3 in the morning. Even when your eyelids felt like they could no longer remain open, you’d do your best to stay awake to not miss a single text. Was it a bit much? Yes. Should you be putting a guy before your beauty sleep? Probably not. Did you still do it anyway? Absolutely. It’s not like you didn’t text him in the day, but after school, he barely texted you besides the occasional response after a couple of hours. He just seemed to come alive in the night. That’s when you’d get your near-instantaneous responses and true conversations. So if talking to him meant staying up at night, you were willing to do it. 

You’d done a good job so far of staying awake in class; after all, you didn’t want to miss out on notes. But after a couple of days, your exhaustion had just gotten to you.. You were tired, the lecture seemed to go on an on forever, the teacher’s monotonous voice, it was the typical recipe for drifting off. With your head in your hands, you felt your eyes start to blink slowly as they got heavier by the moment. Before you knew it, you felt your eyelids close. You didn’t know how long you were asleep. But your teacher’s voice immediately brought you back to reality.

“(Y/N), could you tell me what the answer is to Question 3?” the teacher said, her voice startling you awake. Your face burned with embarrassment as you flipped through your notes to find some way to solve the question. As you couldn’t find any way out of the situation, your shame grew and grew. All of a sudden you felt a sharp nudge to your arm coming from beside you. You turn to see Kastuki clearing his throat, and pushing his worksheet towards you. At first, you’re confused but then the pieces clicked in your head once you saw him pointing to the same question the teacher was asking you about.

“(Y/N)? Answer the question please, we don’t have all day.” your teacher said, her tone getting more frustrated. 

“Uhhhh...2?” you answer hesitantly, glancing quickly towards Katsuki’s paper to make sure you said the right number.

“Oh, yes, that’s correct. Next time, still pay attention to the lecture,” the teacher said, moving on with her presentation.

“Thank you so much, you saved my ass just there.” you whisper to Katsuki. “I would’ve gotten laughed at for sure if I got that wrong.”

“You don’t need to thank me, that’s what friends are for, stupid,” he replied with a smile. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never really seen his smile, it was just downright adorable; surprising for someone who looked so intimidating. You were so wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t catch yourself staring. “What, something on my face or some shit?”

“Uhh...no, nothing at all, you’re all peaches and cream.” 

He chuckled in response and turned around, leaving you to your thoughts.

“Peaches and cream?? Who even says something like that anymore?? Stupid, stupid me and stupid, stupid thing to say and now he probably thinks I’m weird and strange and ー” your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the bell releasing everyone to go to lunch. You started packing up your laptop and your notes, glad that there were no more chances to get embarrassed by the teacher again, at least for the next hour. 

You feel yet another nudge, and you turn towards Katsuki. “Hey do you wanna share lunch with me? I don’t know if you’ve got a lunch packed already but like I accidentally packed two sandwiches and I’m on a cut and I only wanna eat one sandwich, and I don’t wanna waste any damn food. So like if you want you can have the other one or something,’ he says.

“Yes! I mean, yes that would be nice thank you so much, what kind of sandwich?” you reply trying to not sound too happy at the offer. 

“Well I don’t really know what it's fucking called, but there’s some grilled chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and I think some spicy mayo in it. That sound good to you?”

Your mouth watered just thinking about it. “Yeah dude, that sounds great, thanks again! I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and then do you wanna meet up at the cafeteria?”

“Nah, I'll just wait for you. Plus I don’t want you getting lost or anything trying to find me.” Katsuki replied walking towards the bathroom. You thank him internally; you had no clue where the bathroom was anyways. After a couple moments, you both get to the bathroom. As you head inside, Katsuki leans on the wall of lockers nearby, plopping his backpack down on the floor. 

He double checks to see whether you’ve truly gone inside and puts his face in his hands. He was hoping you didn’t notice how red he was on the way to the bathroom. “I didn’t think it’d actually work, holy shit,” Katsuki thought to himself over and over again. If truth be told, Katsuki didn’t make any extra sandwiches.

That morning Katsuki got up early to make lunch for school, not because he was a morning person, but because of a small detail you mentioned last night. You both were having your usual nightly talk when the topic got to food. 

“Yeah I like to cook a lot honestly! I haven’t really made anything recently, but hopefully I can get more into it soon.” 

It surprised Katsuki honestly, he never took you as someone who’d like to cook. 

“Oh word, that’s cool, any reason why you like it tho?”

“Yeah, I mean like I guess its just my love language? I love to cook and just make people happy through food :) I usually cook for my family a lot.”

“That’s honestly pretty fucking kind of you. Who cooks for you?

“Ah, I mean its just me cooking at home, so no one really lol.”

“Damn, its gotta be tiring cooking all the time tho”

“Yeah sometimes, but yk like I said its my love language so I don’t mind. But thats why I just get food from the cafeteria, its just tiring most times to cook for everyone and do lunch lol”

Katsuki read your text and laid his head back on his pillow, arm across his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His stomach filled with excitement. Just like that, an idea brewed in his head. He wasn’t a good cook by any means whatsoever. Besides making a mean microwaveable ramen, he didn’t know how to make much but he was gonna do his best to make lunch for the both of you tomorrow morning. You fell asleep soon after that, but his idea kept running in his mind for the rest of the night. 

He spent the rest of the night scrolling through TikToks, trying to figure out some sort of recipe that was easy but something you’d like. And that’s when he had his eureka moment. There was grilled chicken in his fridge and he was sure there had to be some topping in there too; he could make grilled chicken sandwiches. All he could hope for at that point was whether it’d be good or not. 

The next morning he woke up determined to make you the best fucking sandwich you’d ever had. 30 minutes later and he accomplished his goal. As he drove to school, he hoped you’d like it when he realized he forgot a vital part of his plan. “How the fuck am I gonna tell her about lunch?” 

He wracked his brain for any more ideas. Katsuki didn’t want to come across too strong, but you just deserved something nice. Finally, he settled on telling you that he just had an extra sandwich. After all, honesty was the best policy and he technically did have an extra. He honestly thought you’d refuse or have some sort of lunch with you already. But when you said yes, he was absolutely elated. He tried his best to cover his enthusiasm, but now it was written all over Katsuki’s face.  The grin hadn’t left his face since you both started walking to the bathroom.

The soft tug to his jacket sleeve brought him out of his thoughts. “Hey, thanks for waiting! Do you wanna maybe go to the library instead to eat? The cafeteria is always so fucking noisy and I’ll barely be able to hear you talk,” you ask.

“She wants to hear me talk; she wants to hear me talk,” Katsuki thought gleefully. “Yeah sure, I don’t mind,” he replied, trying to play cool.

After walking to the library, you both find a quiet spot in the back. You and Katsuki sit down, side by side, before he pulled out two small plastic bags from his backpack. He passed you a sandwich and waited anxiously for your reaction.

You look at him quizzically. “Why the fuck is he just staring at me and not eating at all?” you thought before taking a bite. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Katsuki.

“What? What? Is it bad or something? You don’t gotta fucking eat it if its that bad,” he says.

“No, Katsuki, its perfect! It's really really good!” you reply, diving back in for another bite. You skipped breakfast and your stomach had been grumbling all throughout class and this was just the perfect fix.

“I’m glad you like it. I made it myself,” Katsuki said with pride, a smile stretched across his face yet again. How could he not smile when you looked so precious?

“Are you for real? That is so sweet of you! Kastuki, I’m for real touched you thought of little old me, you sat leaning over to wrap him in a hug.

Katsuki’s whole face turns red, hypersensitive to your touch. If he knew making you a sandwich would get you close to him, he would've made you lunch way sooner. 

You break away and continue eating your sandwich as Katsuki starts to eat his. You’re so engrossed in your meal that you don’t notice Katsuki staring at you, still red and stomach filled with butterflies.

When you got home, you immediately went to your room, thoughts of lunch on your mind that had nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with a certain blonde. “He made me lunch. Like from scratch. Like who does that?? As if he’s already not cute enough, now I’ve got him cooking for me,” you thought. 

That’s when a thought quickly crossed your head. “Does he maybe like me?” It only took you a few moments with that idea to make you absolutely flushed. “There’s like no way, right? I’m me and he’s so cool, and plus I’m just being delulu because there’s literally no way. Exactly, there’s no way he likes me right?” you say to yourself. 

You tried your best to focus on your homework for the rest of the night, trying to get thoughts of Katsuki out of your head. But every so often thoughts of that darling smile or his piercing eyes or how he smelt like burnt caramel when you hugged him kept creeping into your mind. It didn’t help that he was texting you too. With every single thought and text, the feeling in your stomach just got stronger and stronger. It was a weird mix of butterflies, anxiety, and giddiness and God you loved it so much. You gave up on your homework and laid on your bed, starting to drift into your usual daydream. 

You closed your eyes, curling up into your blankets. You imagined Katsuki’s arm coming from behind you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you close to his bare chest. His arm slide up your arm, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Just as he kissed the top of your head, you heard a voice call out, bringing you back to reality abruptly. 

“(Y/N)! Come down for dinner honey!” your mom yelled. You let out a sigh; you were so close to the exciting part of the dream too. 

"Coming, Mama!" you cheerfully replied as you quickly slipped on some cozy slippers for comfort. As you finished getting ready, your thoughts wandered, wishing your daydreams were real life. With a sigh, you brushed off those feelings, "I'm just being silly. I know he'll never see me in that light."

Meanwhile, on the other side of your street, Katsuki was having some day dreams of his own. He still hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. It was like whole world around him gained color the second you walked into his mind. All he could think about after lunch was how it felt to have you so close to him. His thoughts were filled what how it felt to have your arms around him. You were so much warmer than he imagined. And thinking about how your chest slightly pressed into his bicep sent him into overdrive. 

With all his heart, he wished he could’ve hugged you back, even if it was just for a second. He engraved every detail of your embrace in his memory, filing them away in his memory. Katsuki hoped that one day he’d be able to sweep you into his arms and hold you close. But until then, thoughts and daydreams would have to do.

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh… you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

[tiedyeflannels]

Did We Forget...

OT7 x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Angst

A/N: Heyyyy... I'm finally back from the dead! Turns out being busy and having writers block is definitely not a fun combo, but I wanted to finish this since I started it last year on my birthday. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and happy new years!!

Masterlist

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” Your parents exclaimed.

It probably wasn’t too late over in the States where they were right now, but it was really early in the morning in Korea and they claimed that they needed to call you ‘as soon as possible’.

You sleepily smiled at them, “Thanks, you guys! But… you do know that it’s 5 am over here right? I don’t have to get up until later and now you guys woke me up.”

“Well, why did you pick up then,” your dad teased.

You deadpanned, “Because mom ingrained it in me that I can’t not pick up a call from you guys, or she would have my head.”

Mom shook her head, “I never said that.”

“It’s implied, Mom!” You chuckled when she let out a frustrated huff. 

“Anyway, thank you for the birthday wishes! I’m coming home for New Year’s, don’t forget! We can do something then, okay?”

They nodded.

“Yep, we’ve got your room ready and we’ll be picking you up from the airport. All you have to do is let us know where you are,” Mom said.

You hummed in agreement.

“Oh! Are you going to spend the day with the boys? Are they going to take you somewhere special,” Dad asked.

You laughed, “Yeah, I plan on spending the day with them seeing as I don’t have any work to do until I come back from my trip, but I don’t think they have a special event planned.”

“Okay well, don’t party too hard with them! Have fun, be safe and we’ll see you when you visit.”

You fondly smiled, “You got it! Love you guys!”

“Love you,” they said in unison before waving goodbye, then hanging up. 

You sighed as you locked your phone and let it drop on the bed before shifting in bed trying to get comfortable so you could go back to sleep.

~

KNOCK! KNOCK!

You scrunched your face at the sound of light knocking and groaned as you stretched before pulling the blanket over your shoulders and rolled over on your side, trying to go back to sleep.

You didn’t get very far until another round of soft knocking woke you up once more before the door slowly creaked open.

“Y/n,” Jungkook whispered. You sleepily hummed, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“Jin told me to let you know that breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, I’ll be down there in a sec,” you croaked out.

He nodded and closed the door, leaving you to wake up on your own, so you stretched once again to get rid of the sleep from your body before reaching up to grab your glasses off of the night stand. You sat up, moved the blanket off of me and placed your feet on the floor. With a yawn and one final stretch, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom. 

Once you were done, you started down towards the kitchen and upon reaching the bottom of the steps, there was a delicious smell wafting through the air. You walked over to the kitchen to see Jin hovering over the stove before picking the pan up and plating its contents. You took a seat at the island as Jin turned around and placed a plate of (y/f/f) in front of you.

“Tada! Breakfast is served,” Jin said, taking a towel off of the oven handle, wiping his hands clean.

You looked down at the food and then at Jin, smiling. “Ooh~ my favorite! What’s the occasion?”

He shrugged as you took a bite of food, melting at the familiar taste. “I figured since you haven’t gotten to eat it in a while and all of us really like it so… I would go ahead and make it!”

You stopped for a second.

Just because? Did he-

You lightly shook your head at the thought.

You tried again, “So, that’s the only reason? Nothing special?”

He shook his head as he looked at you. “Nope, why? Should there be another reason to make this?”

You shook your head, breathing out a laugh before giving him a smile.

“Nope! Thank you for the food, Jin,” you said, before going back to eating.

You finished the food a while after Jin had left the kitchen. You thought it was interesting that he didn’t seem remember your birthday considering that he was excited for it a few weeks back.

Maybe he’ll ‘remember’ later, you thought as you washed the dish and put it on the rack to dry. 

When you was done with that, you looked over to the living room to find Jimin, Hobi, Tae, and Yoongi sitting on the couches scrolling through their phones. You walked up to where Hobi and Jimin were sitting and placed your hands on the back of the couch resulting in a soft pat sound.

Hobi lifted his head. “Oh hey, Y/n,” he said with a smile.

You looked at him and saw that he was dressed up; still casual, but better than sweats, so you looked around the room at each of them and saw that they were dressed the same, fancy but still casual.

“Are you guys going out,” you asked, hinting that they had at least put some thought into what they were wearing instead of the sweats you had gotten used to over that past few days.

Jimin breathed out a chuckle and shook his head, “Nah. We’ve just got practice in bit.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me,” you turned over to Namjoon, who was adjusting his coat as he made his way over to where you and the guys were, “We’ll have practice until 5 and we have a company meeting and dinner after that, so we won’t be home until late, okay?”

Oh.

You plastered a smile on your face and nodded as Jin and Jungkook came into the room, prompting the others to get up from where they were sitting.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You guys go… be great or whatever you do,” you force a laugh, giving Jungkook a light nudge on his arm, hoping to hide your slight disappointment. 

Might’ve worked too well as they laughed and started heading out.

“We’ll see you when we get back,” Yoongi turned to me. You nodded,

“Okay. Have fun! Be safe! Work hard!”

You waved good-bye to them as you watched them file into the black SUVs and drive away from the house. You sadly sighed at the thought that they forgot, but decided to make the most of it while you still felt like it. So, you went back upstairs, got ready, shrugged on a jacket and went out to who-knows-where. 

Turns out that spending a day by yourself on your birthday was get a little tiring after a while. You sighed as you plopped down on a random park bench, letting the shopping bags fall on the ground next to your legs. Though it was late December, there wasn’t any snow on the ground due to the weather being weirdly warm, which just created slush and puddles.

You rolled up the sleeve of jacket and stared down at the watch as its hands ticked just passed 5 o’clock.

“They should be done with practice now,” you quietly muttered and dug into the coat pocket, pulling out your phone and checking if the members texted.

I wonder if they remembered yet?

Looking through the notifications, none of their names showed up, giving you your answer.

You sadly nodded as disappointment started to seep in before putting your phone back into its hiding place and grabbing the bags as you stood up and started to walk back home. As you drew closer to home, you stopped by the convenience store and picked up a slice of cake and a box of candles, hoping that maybe the members would remember before the day was over so you could celebrate together.

Once home, you set all the bags in your room then remembered the slice you had bought and quietly made your way to the kitchen to put the cake in the fridge, then plopped down on the couch and put on a movie as you waited for the boys to come home. Slowly, your eyelids started to feel heavy and as you tried your best to stay awake, the tiring day finally got to you as you let your eyes close.

You didn’t start to stir until the sound of shuffling made its way to your ears. Opening one eye to peak around at what was happening, you saw the members filing into the house one by one. You sat up immediately and rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you looked at the time on your phone.

11:45. 

“How was your day, you guys,” you yawned out the question, getting up from the couch and stretching.

“Tiring,” Jin said as he walked passed you towards his room.

“Yeah, we’re probably just head to bed,” Hobi said with a tired smile. You sent back a small but warm smile and nodded in understanding,

“Yeah, of course. Good night.” 

There was some tired muttering of ‘good night’s from the others as they passed by and a small nod from Yoongi as they quietly made their ways to their respective rooms, turning off the kitchen light therefore leaving you to stand in the dark alone. You looked at the time on your phone and knew that they weren’t going to come out anymore. 

So… they didn’t remember after all?

You walked over to the fridge and pulled out the slice of cake, carrying it to the counter and setting it down before opening a drawer and taking out a candle and lighter.

Sticking the candle in the center of the cake, you took the lighter and lit it. You stared at the tiny flame, putting my hands together as you made a wish before quickly blowing out the candle and placing it back in the fridge and the clock struck midnight.

~

“Are you sure you have everything,” Yoongi asked as Jungkook handed you the carry-on bag and backpack.

You nodded, “Yep! I should be all set.”

You looked around the group before your eyes settled on Taehyung.

“I’m sorry that I won’t be able to make it to your birthday dinner tonight,” you sadly smiled.

He waved you off, “Don’t worry about it! You can’t exactly control flight times and I know you are dying to see your family. Oh, and thank you for the gift.” 

You took a few steps towards him and pulled him into a hug to which he happily reciprocated.

“Of course! And there’s also a slice of cake I bought in the fridge for you, if you want,” you said, pulling away from the hug in order to say bye to the rest of them, seeing as you won’t be back until the New Year. 

“I should get going,” you said, taking the luggage in your hand as you started to slowly back away from the group.

“I’ll be back in a week! Happy New Years, you guys!”

“Be safe!” “Take care, Y/n/n!” “Bye!” The members waved as they watched you turn around and walk toward your gate.

There was this feeling that Jimin had that he couldn’t seem to shake as he watch you disappear into the crowd of people.

“Guys… I feel like we’re forgetting something.”

“What do you mean? Y/n said she had everything,” Taehyung commented as he placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. 

The latter shook his head, “No. I think we’re forgetting something.”

The members looked around as if trying to retrace their steps. “We dropped off Y/n. Later, we’re going to dinner for Tae’s birthday,” Namjoon listed off as something seemed to collectively click in their brains.

“Did we forget,” Jungkook started.

“Y/n’s birthday,” Hobi finished the thought and everyone’s eye widened in realization.

Oh no…