#anyway if you like this gimme a shout would be nice to know!

[princessconsuela120]

Since it's spooky season, could you do an aged up ff about you convincing stan's friend group to go trick or treating with you?

PRINCESSCONSUELA'S FALLFEST EVENT🍂🧣🎃🍃

🧣 - Cozy Up: Send in any fluff requests from the prompt list that should be posted shortly. I will write a short blurb for any prompt.

—🧣

Summary: it’s Halloween, so you convince the boys to go trick or treating…even though you’re all on high school now.

Warnings: cursing, South Park…all warnings that come with that.

Authors Note: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I adored this idea!!! More Fallfest docs coming out tonight!!! Enjoy!

—🧣

IT WAS AN EXCEPTIONALLY WARM DAY FOR FALL IN SOUTH PARK. Like Cartman liked to say, the only two seasons in South Park were Winter and July, but today was different. It was warm, WARM! In South Park! You couldn’t just let that pass up.

“Come on guys, please! Look at the sun, it’s shining! Have you ever seen the sun before?” You rambled, practically running circles around the boys as they walked to class. You and been friends with them since the 4th grade, and now being Juniors in high school, it was safe to say you were very close.

“Yes I’ve seen the damn sun before y/n.” Cartman snarked, choosing to miss the point of what you were saying. You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly as the other boys chuckled.

“We could be scooby doo, or, what about..”

“I swear to god, if you suggest crayons again I’m going to scream.” Kyle said, making you groan, shaking him lightly with impatience.

“Oh come on you guys.”

“I don’t know y/n it’s just, we’re in high school now. Isn’t there like, a legal age limit for trick or treating.” Stan said, making Cartman scoff, nudging you back.

“Yeah, it ends at 8 years old.” He teased, making you roll my eyes yet again.

“I’m sure Kenny wasn’t to go, don’t you?”

“Anything for free candy.” Kenny said, the two of you high diving as Cartman rolled his eyes in defeat.

“Yeah you know what, I can be a kid for the night for some free candy.”

“You don’t need anymore candy fatass.” Kyle teased, Cartman turning to look at him angrily.

“Aye!” He shouted, as you and Kyle laugh to each other.

“I guess I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyways.” Stan says, shrugging as you jump up and down with excitement. You turn to Kyle, rubbing your shoulder happily against his as you smiled.

“Yay! So Kyle, what’s it gonna be?” You teased, making him sigh.

“Fine.” He pointed a finger at you. “But I’m not being a damn crayon.” You nodded in agreement before jumping and squealing happily.

—🧣

SOMEHOW YOU HAD MANAGED TO CONVINCE THE BOYS TO BE THE GHOST BUSTERS. You had found a bucket of green paint in Stan’s farm-from good knows what- and paint Cartman head to toe in green paint. You sewed together some makeshift green outfit for him to wear and deemed him the ghost to your quartet. You can only imagine how happy that made Cartman.

“Why did I have to be the ghost?” He whined, stomping behind the four of you as you came up to your first door.

“Because your fat.” Kyle said, not missing a beat.

“Aye!”

“What he meant to say, was that you just shine, like a ghost would shine.” You say, as Cartman scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh cut the crap y/n.”

“Trick or treat!” You all shouted, bright smiles on all your faces as the two adults at the door greeted you with excitement.

“Oh honey look, it’s the ghost busters!” The one woman said, nudging her husband as she pointed out Cartman.

“Yeah, and Bruce vilange.” Her husband cheered, making Cartman fume.

“God damnit I’m not Bruce villange! I’m a ghost!”

“Oh, of course you are honey.” The woman said nicely, making cartman scoff, grabbing the serving bowl from the lady and dumping half of it into his pillow case, causing you and the other boys to laugh.

“Just gimme the damn candy.” He grumbled, making you lean onto Stan as you laughed even harder. “I hate you guys.”

—🧣

“YOU GIVE ME YOUR ALMOND JOYS AND I'LL GIVE YOU MY PRETZELS.” Cartman bargained, making you frown as you held the blue wrapped candy up to you chest protectively. The five of you were now sitting in Stan’s living room, the contents of your pillow cases spilled out infront of you as you made trades for candy. Most of the time, when you were younger atleast, all the bags of chips and pretzels and drinks that you all got, you would all donate to Kenny, so he could take something home for his family. And besides that, he got to bring home the candy no one else would eat. Now Cartman on the other hand, would always try to go to bed Halloween night with even more candy than he had walking in the house. You of course, wouldn’t let this happen.

“But I want my almond joys.” You mumbled, a pour on your face as Cartman sighed, waving the bag of pumpkin shaped pretzels in the air.

“Well, don’t you want some pretzels?”

“Sure, here. I’ll give you my almond joys.” You handed him a few candy bars as he clapped excitedly.

“One bag of pretzels is equal to four.” Cartman corrected, making you roll your eyes.

“Right okay, well pretend that makes sense. Now, you give me your pretzels.”

“Ooo, ghost and pumpkin shaped, how spooky. Now, you give me back two almond joys.”

“Okay.”

“And I give you back your pretzels.”

“Okay.”

“Now you give me three more almond joys.”

“But there’s only two in my hands.” Cartman pouted, as you shook you head at him, gesturing to his pillow case.

“Then take it out of your bag.”

“Good idea.” He said, quickly digging for almond joys in his bag.

“Okay, and now you give me your pretzels.”

“Perfect. Aye!” Cartman yelled, watching angrily as you proudly stuffed both the new almond joys and spooky pretzels into you bag.

“No more candy trades boys, I’m all out.” You teased, dusting off your hands as Kyle Stan and Kenny all applauded you with amusement.

“That was amazing.” Stan muttered, making you chuckle as Cartman pouted in the corner, almost just like when you were kids. It was wonderful to be kids again on Halloween. Something the boys had missed. And even if they wouldn’t admit it, in fear of bruising their pride, they were happy you convinced them to go.

—🧣

[mellonyheart]

This is the most self projecting thing I've ever written because guess what my body gave me for Christmas? Yaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy. Fuck my life. I still had to cook Christmas dinner too.

Mammon x Reader, first person pov, sfw, swearing because fuck is my favorite word today, slight angst, probably poorly edited. Edit: forgot to add 'reader is fem bodied. Whoops. Edit2: Actually gender is meaningless here and Reader could just as easily be suffering from menstrual cramps or a chronic disease/condition. So gn? The point is Reader has cramps. It's not specified what kind. Only that they hurt bad enough to not be able to enjoy going out.

Fuck.

This wasn't how I wanted to spend my Christmas.

I was supposed to greet the boys at breakfast. We'd eat and hold back our excitement (some better than others) about the coming festivities. I was going to help with Christmas dinner. I was going to bake a truckload of Christmas cookies! We were going to decorate them together. It was going to be a chaotic blast! It wasn't supposed to end up like this....

Owww....

My body seemed to have other ideas as I was now confined to my room by cramps. It's not fair! As if it wasn't bad enough I can't be in my (real) room but the boys were out spreading Christmas cheer for the rest of Devildom without me. And I was really looking forward to it!

It was hard to fight the tears as I remembered how Solomon left early to help out in my stead. I hope they can keep him away from the kitchen. That would be a disaster. Were the brothers missing me? They were right?

I missed them. I missed the present. I missed being a part of their wild world. I miss Mammon.

And now I really am crying. In no small part from the pain in my belly as much as my heart. My phone was suspiciously quiet too. Were they busy? Did something happen? Crap... you never know in the Devildom. Something is always coming up. I wanted to be a part of it. Why was fate so cruel?

I rolled over, still dwelling on my miserable thoughts. The pain killer was barely working. If I ever find this Nightbringer person (demon? Angel? Whatever...) I'm going to give them an earful. Not that my current situation was their fault but it makes me feel (infinitesimally) better to blame the entity that put me here.

Knock knock

Nope. Don't even think about it Solo. I'm asleep and I'm not eating your "soup".

Knock knock

I'm sleeping. Go away.

I could have sworn I heard a curse on the other side of my door but it was too quiet to make out. Weird. Solomon didn't usually curse.

Bzzt

?

I got a text message.

Hey.

You awake?

It's cool if you're not.

The Great Mammon just thought it'd be a good idea to check in on ya. You should be grateful I'm such a nice guy.

Fuck!

Anyway...

Just thought I'd say Merry Christmas.

"Wait!" I shouted as I threw open my door and there was Mammon halfway down the hall looking back at me with a startled expression.

...Just in time for another cramp. Ow.

"So ya were awake! Hang on... are ya okay?!" Mammon rushed to back to me, likely noticing my distress. He helped me back to bed and as he tried to take a step back I held his sleeve. Such soft fabric... if I wasn't miserable right now I would complement his santa outfit. It was perfectly... him.

"Thanks Mammon. But uh... what are you doing here?" I had to know. Why couldn't I let myself just be happy that he was here?

"Is that any way to greet someone who came all the way here to see ya?! And look at ya... fallin' over and stuff. Wait. Does that make me a hero?"

"Sure. My Christmas hero. Doesn't answer my question though." How is it that he can make me smile so easily? That has to be a super power. Maybe he is a hero.

"Do I really need a reason to see ya?! Gimme a break would ya?!" He huffed. I could guess what he was really doing here. His golden heart was always clear to me.

"I'm glad you came. Thank you. I was actually getting pretty lonely." Honesty was easy with Mammon. Even if he couldn't be honest himself. He was blushing and looking away from me. Damn he was cute.

"Y-yeah... well I figured you'd be lonely without me. I mean... well it just sucks ya got sick on Christmas. It ain't right." And by all things holy and unholy he looked at me like he meant it. He did mean it. Mammon really could be ridiculously sweet. Maybe too sweet because I can feel the tears coming back.

"H-hey! I didn't mean to... I wasn't tryin' to..." Poor Mammon. He was panicking. I really did try to explain that it wasn't that he said something wrong. It was just hormones going a bit overboard. But talking is hard when you're trying not to sob because the demon you love is too sweet for his own good. So I just hugged him. Hard. If he wasn't a demon, probably too hard but how else can I express that I love him so much I want us to meld into one person? I'm emotional. Don't hold it against me.

Mammon tried to calm me down. He hugged me back and kept saying anything he thought would be soothing in his own Mammon way.

"Hey. Ya good?" He asked as I finally calmed. My eyes hurt.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Mammon. This probably wasn't what you had in mind when you came over." My face felt puffy and I could really use a snack and some hydration.

"Don't worry about it. Are ya sure you're okay?" Anyone who says Mammon only cares about himself is an idiot.

"Yes. You're the best Mammon. I really need you to know that." I wiped my face and attempted a normal, definitely not wet, smile.

"Come on... don't get all sweet on me. Oh! I almost forgot!" Mammon suddenly dashed back into the hallway. After a moment he came back with a small festively colored bag and a thermos. "Here. I got this for ya. I uh... wanted to give it to ya before the others got here."

"Hold on... the others?" I asked, bewildered.

"Aw crap... that was supposed to be a surprise! Ya gotta pretend to be surprised when the others call ya down. I was supposed to check how ya were feeling so we can throw ya a party downstairs. Ya know, because you probably don't feel like walkin' to the House of Lamentation or the castle. And then Solomon said you didn't want to teleport so..."

I should have known. I love them. All of them. And they love me. Of course they would try to plan a surprise party so that I didn't feel left out. I feel like the luckiest human of all time. Dumb hormones can't stop me from having a good Christmas.

"Mammon?" I interrupted him from his rambling.

"Huh? What is it?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"H-huh?! H-hold on! You haven't even opened your present yet!" Fuck he's cute when he blushes.

"Can I kiss you after I open my present?"

"S-sure, whatever you want! Just open it already!" Mammon pressed the bag in my direction as to put as much distance between it and himself. He looked at me expectantly.

Inside the bag was... cookies. Clearly handmade. They certainly weren't made or decorated by Luke or Barbatos. One was a touch burned.

"You made me cookies?" I asked.

"Tis' the season right? Look! That one is you and that one is me. I threw in a couple Christmasy shapes too. Ya gotta try 'em though!" He looked nervous despite sounding so excited. I bet he brought these privately because his brothers made fun of his amateur baking skills. And he made mini us!

I took a bite of a Christmas tree.

"It's good."

"Yeah?! I mean I tried extra hard to get the shapes right and Luke had to help me with the decoratin' but they look good right?!" He smiled like the first sunrise in Devildom. So I kissed him.

Then as he got flustered and admonished me for the surprise attack I made cookie us kiss too.

Marry Christmas.

[companionjones]

The Academy

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Prelude: In this story, everything is fine for once. Reader, Luke and Leia are Jedi Masters teaching the future generations of Jedi. Among those future generations are Ben Solo, Rey, and Finn. Not Poe though. While the rest of them are kids, I aged Poe up to his age in the movies because I’m the author and can do whatever I want. Have a nice read.

Warnings: None!

(Couldn’t decide on a gif, have these)

*******

    “Uncle Luke! Uncle Luke!” Ben called out excitedly in the middle of your lesson.

    You turned around on the grassy knoll to find the Jedi Knight striding toward you and your class with a smile.

    There goes the rest of your lesson.

    Ben Solo ran toward his uncle and jumped into his arms.

    Luke Skywalker welcomed the six-year-old happily. “Hey there, buddy! Are you ready for my lesson today?”

    In the middle of Ben’s excited confirmation, Leia appeared. She must’ve sensed Luke was disturbing the end of your lesson. “Really, Luke? Again?” she scolded her twin.

    “It’s alright, Leia,” you laughed at the looks the twins were giving each other,” I was nearly done, anyway. One last thing.” You returned your attention to your students. “Who can tell me the Jedi Master who was late to start her training, but proved to be one of the strongest Jedi of her time?”

    “Master Organa!” one of your students called out at almost the same time Ben happily shouted out, “Mommy!”

    “Very good, Finn!” you smiled at him, figuring that Ben was getting enough attention from his family. After a dramatic pause, you then announced, “Class dismissed!”

    Most of your students happily got up at your words, bidding various goodbyes as they headed off in the direction where Luke usually held his classes. There was one girl; however, who wasn’t so quick to join the bunch.

    “I’m sorry about the was Ben was acting, Master Y/n,” she apologised, “He means well.”

    You bit back a smile at how sophisticated she sounded while defending her friend before answering, “I know he does, Rey. I’m not mad in the slightest. Thank you for looking out for him.”

    She grinned at you before running to catch up with Finn and Ben.

    “I don’t know why you don’t teach other sorts of classes, Y/n,” Luke pointed out, “Why teach maths, Aurebesh, and history, when you’re so good at meditating and combat?”

    You rolled your eyes. “Because we already have Jedi Masters that teach those subjects quite well. You, Leia, Ahsoka...Plus, I don’t think the Jedi focused too well on ‘regular’ subjects in the past. These children need to be just as educated as other kids are regarding these matters.”

    “I’ll explain it to you when you’re older,” Leia teased as she put an arm around her brother and lead him toward where he was supposed to be teaching a class.

    You missed Luke’s annoyed rebuttal because you were too busy watching Ben run to a figure approaching him in the distance. You could just barely make out what the little boy was excitedly screaming: “Daddy! Daddy!”

    And that could only mean one thing.

    You took off running toward your quarters. If you didn’t run into him on the way, he would most likely be there. You saw him standing with his back toward you when the door opened.

    Han and Poe hated diplomatic missions more than anyone else you knew, but they were the only ones available to go on them when school was in session.

    “If I have to hear one more ‘I object,’ I think I’m going to blast someone’s head off.”

    You hugged his bare back as he was in the middle of changing his shirt.

    After a chuckle that you felt reverberate through him, Poe turned around and took you in his arms. “Gimme a second to hold my girl...Stars, I missed you too.”

    Not having the energy to respond, you just breathed him in.

    “How was class? I thought it was still going. I was going to come see you.”

    “Luke decided to end it early.”

    “I probably would’ve done the same,” Poe rebut.

    “I know you would’ve,” you smiled against him. “I would’ve preferred it.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[kimbapkimbapp]

Bkdk short fic!

Summary?

They're both idiots in love who are both lost siblings and an old marriage. And class A loves to tease them (also, sassy deku)

This happens after the war, in the second-third year (does it matter lol) and yeah Katsuki and Izuku get, along?? (They really do seriously it's just teasing each other) and Katsuki calls him Izuku already. Anyways!

—Kacchan come on! You can watch it on your TV!! —Yelled an angry Izuku.

—I don't fucking care! I want a bigger screen!

—You literally have one TV stop being a jerk!

—Hah?! And so do you!

—I don't have that channel in my TV!

—Not my fucking problem!

—You're!…ugh! —He yelled in exasperation.

Surrounding them class A didn't really know if they should run away from those two or to laugh about the situation.

Of course they chose the second one.

—Yo bro why are these two fighting again? —Asked Kaminari to Kirishima while laughing.

—I don't know man, I think they both wanna see something on the TV.

—They literally are like siblings. —Said Sero.

—Me being siblings with this stupid idiot! He wish! —Shouted Katsuki.

—I would throw a microwave at you! —Answered Midoriya.

—Fucking try, you bitch!

—Are you sure you're not secret brothers or something? —Said Sero again.

—Shut up! —Both yelled in response.

—I would die before being brothers with this asshole! —Said Katsuki.

—And to think they were making progress… —Was what the class president could say about the situation.

—At least I don't prefer to watch a cooking show before an exclusive interview of the best heroes of the USA!

—Don't act like you don't like that fucking show! You All Might wannabe!

—...Still!

Class couldn't help to break a laugh. They really couldn't help it when it came to that duo, who were a perfect mix between siblings that argue for literally nothing and besties that finish each other's sentences.

—Kacchan, could you just be NICE for once and watch it in your room?

—Why do I have to be the one that goes to his room!

—Because I don't have that channel on my TV!

—Watch it on the phone then!

—It's not the same Kacchan and you know it!

—Hah?! That's why I'm gonna watch it on this gigantic TV!

—No you're not going to!

—Hell I am!

—Not if I catch the controller first!

As soon as Izuku finished saying that they both runned for their lives to the desk where it was supposed to be the controller.

But soon they realized that it wasn't there but on Jirou's hand, who was watching a random concert.

—Jirou-san!

—Ears!

—Gimme the controller! —Both yelled at the same time.

—Uh…no? —Said Jirou totally unbothered by the situation.

—Please! I'll let you finish whatever that is!

—Fucking no! Give it to me!

—Uh… First, I'm not ears. Second, this is actually boring me so here you go Midoriya. —She said while throwing the controller to him.

—What! Why him?!

—Because he doesn't call me ears and I wanna see you mad. Besides, Midoriya would kill you if you don't let him see his hero stuff, so you're welcome.— Said while walking away.

—You're a fucking asshole!

—Cry about it! —She said while hiding a little laugh.

—Jirou is a queen... —Said Kaminari.

—Shut up, you simp! And give me that, fucking Izuku!

—No! —Midoriya said while holding it close to his chest.

—Gimme that!! —Yelled Katsuki while grabbing his face as Midoriya tried his best to pull him away.

Then he had an idea and not much later than that, the blackwhip was tying Katsuki.

—Don't you mghf!!! —Bakugou lost the ability to talk when the blackwhip tied his mouth and both his legs and hands, and all he could do was squirm like a worm.

—You could've watched your programme! But now you're not going to for being a jerk! —Said Midoriya. He was not going to untie him fearing that he would take away the remote from him.

—Rule number 1, never interpose between Midobro and Hero stuff. —Said Kirishima while laughing.

—What Kacchan? You're not saying anything? —Kaminari teased him.

The truth was that yeah Bakugou was tied, but he could still make explosions. And no matter how much Aizawa prohibited him from doing that after he 'accidentally' burned one chair, he would do it if Kaminari didn't shut up.

Fortunately for both Kirishima and Kaminari, both knew that if they didn't stop, they would probably be killed, so they left the common room while inevitably laughing.

Midoriya on the other hand, calmy switched the channel to the one with the USA hero programme, while Bakugou didn't stop squirming and casually ...yelling? If it can be considered that.

It was basically their dynamic. Getting mad for the stupidest reasons, fighting a bit and then making up like the lost siblings they were.

They both liked that to be honest. They were kind of opposites, but at the same time they were so similar, reason why they got along so well (and sometimes so not). But they both liked it and felt incredibly comfortable with each other.

Izuku wasn't afraid of interacting with Katsuki like he had been in the past, Katsuki wasn't afraid of showing a little bit of his emotions to Izuku. They were improving, time to time. But at the end of the day, both cared a lot for each other and loved spending time together.

The class also knew that they were really transparent with their actions but not that much with words. They were like brothers, yeah, but some of them also realized that Bakugou and Midoriya were more like an old marriage, which was kind of cute.

Eventually, Bakugou became calmer (he would never recognize it, but he also liked the programme). And because of that Midoriya untied him.

—It was about time, bastard.

—We can still watch that cooking show if you want to. —Responded Izuku.

—Nah, this is not that bad.

—I knew you would like it! —Said Midoriya with a big grin on his face.

—Shut up idiot!

Midoriya immediately got closer and leaned his head on Bakugou's shoulder.

—Uh… Izuku?

—Wha?

—Isn't this a little bit gay? —Bakugou asked, pointing out the situation.

—No? Why would it be?

—Because you're leaning your head on my shoulder?

—And? How 's that gay?

—Whatever, at least you're not on my lap.

Immediately after saying that, Izuku leaned his head on his lap to tease Katsuki.

—Move idiot!

—Nop.

—You're an annoying bitch you know.

—And why are you caressing my hair? —He said while Bakugou touched his curls.

—That's not fucking weird! —He replied as he stopped.

—Kacchan, don't be dumb, do whatever you want to, it's not gay. Besides, it's nice when people touch my hair.

But why then Bakugou felt butterflies whenever Midoriya was touching him? Why did it felt so good to have Midoriya's breath on his thighs? Why was it so easy to get his hands lost in his hair?

Bakugou didn't have an answer, so he preferred watching the programme while ignoring the heartbeats that were growing louder.

Yo! I wrote this shitty thing at midnight so don't rlly judge it lol

ALSO English is not my first language

[sunny6677]

The Stars. - Spooky Month: The Novellized Version.

Summary:

In the year of 2011, Skid and Pump spend most of their nights in October trying to celebrate the spookiest month. Yet during one of these adventures on a late night, they end up meeting a peculiar new.. friend.

TWS FOR A ROBBERY, AND FIGHTING

CHAPTER 1, PT 1: Mom's Game.

————

"Eheheh.."

Skid giggled—in an instant, the scene with his two new friends had practically turned into chaos. In a fun way, that was. Watching them both release screams from their mouths as she raced around the room after them, her hands flying into the air—balling up completely as it jammed straight into the thinner robbers face.

The thinner robber had simply gasped I response—his body practically slamming against the wall as his mother yelled. And yelled. It was nice to see her having so much fun! Especially with the larger thief who kept gasping, and crying out in the background.

As cool air slightly blew against Skids face from the holes of his mask once more, he turned his head, spinning on his heel toward the direction of the looming entrance of the attic. Long shadows drawn over the stairs like a curtain.

He slightly blinked, a smile curling a little on his lips as the darkness remained stiff inside. For a moment, the chill in the area slightly intensified, and he felt it wash over his face.

..something spoke—it's voice echoing. Yet somehow, it also sounded like a whisper.

"..ME FORAS.."

He blinked again at the sound of this, and only shook his head playfully. From the other side of the room, he heard a crash. The larger thief screamed out once more, presumably from the excitement of the game he was playing with Skids mother.

And, tilting his head slightly, Skid giggled.

"Sorry, Moloch! It's still Spooky Month. You know how busy I am during—"

"Son—go!"

..Skid flinched lightly, his eyes darting in the direction of his mother. The thinner thief was on the ground now, unmoving. While the larger one only whimpered and struggled against the wall, due to his mother's slender hand around the collar of his sweater.

His mother's eyes were as wide as saucers, sharp shaky breaths escaping her mouth, and her nostrils flared.

"..go?" Skid repeated.

"G—Go!" She repeated, "Just go! Get the police! Call 911!"

"Uhhhhhh.."

Skid trailed off, and then shrugged. "Okay, mom! Gimme a second!"

He wasn't sure why his mom would need the police. Didn't they just come here because they wanted to tell him he had a cool costume for the Spooky Month?

As this question swirled in his mind, he merely brushed it off. Maybe it was just part of the game and he just had to pretend to call them!

So, spinning on his heel once more in the direction his mom had appeared from the shadows, he felt a charge in his legs—and he began to jog at a quick pace to the entrance she had emerged from. For that entrance led to a short cut to where the telephone was anyway.

————

"There it is!"

Skid exclaimed, after wondering through the long narrow hallway of the dark. Blinding euphoria filling his mind as he grinned. The main area of the house, or at least the one with the entrance looked the same as ever in the dark—minor tinges of white light pouring out from the slips of the blinds.

He smelt the faint scent of the plants dirt in the corner, for anytime he entered this area specifically, that scent was always there. And that scent sort of reminded him of the scent at the graveyard.

Hopping upward, and letting his little legs guide him to the telephone that was on the desk—he swiftly moved. And once he was able to get close enough, he stood on his tippy toes. Lifting his hand, he let it grasp the phone. And at once, he began to..

..well, he didn't actually need to call the police right? This was just a game after all. He could easily just not call anyone at all, or..

He giggled, getting an idea.

He let his fingers race against the buttons on the telephone box, clicking noises mingling with the muffled noises of his mother shouting, and the occasional sharp racing of footsteps.

Once he had completed dialing the number, he pressed it to where his ear was hidden by his mask—hearing the telephone ring.

It rung. And it rung. And it rung.

..then it clicked.

"..hello?" A familiar nasally, lispy voice greeted from the other end

"Hey, Pump—can you pretend to be the police? Me and mom are playing!" Whispered Skid, giggling.

"The police?"

"Mhm!"

"Uh.. okay. Eheheh.. uh—" Pump cleared his throat, making his voice sound as deep as he could. Gruffly, he grumbled into the phone, "This is the police. What do you need help with?"

"Hehehehe.." Giggled Skid again, "These—these two guys are in my mom's house! And they—they came here to call my costume cool cuz it's Spooky Month!"

"Oh, really?" Pump asked, sounding a bit excited—before clearing his throat again. "Well, where's your house at? I'll send my friends over there to come and see if they're Spooky enough to be there!"

"It's the beige house with the dark roof! And the windows! And it has a really Spooky grave decoration thingy at the front!" Explained Skid, occasionally trailing off or blinking.

"Okay—they'll—they'll be over there to come see if they're spooky." Pump huffed out in reply. He paused for a moment, and then whispered—his voice sounding somewhat normal again. "Hey—can I come over?"

Skid whispered back, "Yeah, sure.. heheheh.. you wanna play with us?"

"Yeah—whatever you're playing sounds Spooky! Is Ms. Lila still playing?"

"Hmm—" Hummed Skid in thought. He listened. And yet, he heard nothing. "..actually, I think she might not be playing anymore. I don't hear anything. She told me to go get the police though."

"Maybe she's playing a different game with them now?"

"No. I still don't hear anything. She might not be playing anymore."

"..does that mean we can go hang out then?"

"Hmmm.. sure!" Shrugged Skid with a wide grin, "I don't see why not!"

"Oh—yipee!" Cheered Pump, "Gimme a sec—I'll see if Susie or grandpa will let me go."

"Okay! Heheheh.."

The phone slightly clicked. For around a few seconds or maybe about a minute, there was a pause of silence—with Pumps voice speaking muffled words in the background occasionally. Along with Susie's high-pitched voice sometimes being heard, with Mr Wonders softer voice speaking in the back.

..after a while, he heard Pumps voice finally speak again. "Okay—Grandpa said I can go!"

"Hahaha—yay! I'll wait for you outside! You wanna go get ice cream?"

"Oh—yes! Ehehehe.."

"Okay! I'll see you when you get here then! Bye byeeee!"

"Byeeee!"

With a sound as Skid pressed the button, the phone gave a click, signifying that the phone hung up.

[rikiblues]

behind the scenes: it's a mess

featuring. the main cast of attack on titan contents. movie stars!au, fluff, comedy, insanity???

track. none word count. 1607

note. in short, if the entire thing was a movie and the actors were messing around behind the scenes! #traumatized #ineedcomfort don't ask. this is for  who now relies on me for fanfics in this fandom. imagining that this didn't happen makes me feel better about myself too. if it makes it better I feel highly embarrassed about this too :D

This PC > USB (D:) > SHINGEKI BEHIND THE SCENES :")

_____________________

[ruining badass captain imagery.mp4]

"What a lovely bunch," Levi mutters, locking in on the two huge Titans in his way. The manic laughs of Hange echoes off the streets, but he pays no attention to that, landing swiftly, walking towards the monsters with all the grace of a man walking into a party.

"You sure have interesting faces, don't—oh my god!" he loses his footing just then and nearly falls the full ten meters down. "Jeez, why is it so damn hard walking on these?!" he yelps, having caught himself by grabbing onto the surface below him.

"Maybe 'cuz they're shingles!" Hange yells from somewhere below.

"Cut!" the director shouts. "Are you okay? Your hand isn't scraped up?"

"Just a little bit," Levi slowly regains his footing. Technically, he wouldn't have been a whole lot injured if he did fall, but it's not a nice feeling, anyway. Somewhere across the studio, he hears one of the kids laughing hysterically at his fall. Really, sometimes it's a good question to ask why he joined this set; besides the money benefits and the awesome role he gets to play. "I'm fine to keep going."

"Okay, if you insist..."

***

"Stay still," Levi sniffs distastefully, perched with extreme agility atop the Titan's head, like it's nothing for a seasoned veteran like him. "Otherwise, I'll never get a clean cut of your flesh."

Slicing blades through Titan flesh feels so good.

[discussing war and hate crimes: the queen and the rogue.mp4]

"Wait, wait, gimme a minute," Armin fumbles with the camera for a minute. "Okay, I'd rather not play with all these settings—"

"You play a brainiac," Eren points out. "You should be confident about this."

"You're on camera now," Armin says. "Better keep the snark to a minimum."

"Yeah, be professional!" Historia makes a point of elbowing Eren very pointedly. "Let's begin, shall we?"

"I'm editing this out later, but..." Armin clears his throat, and puts on a presenter-style tone of voice. "Now here we are with the stars of episode ten of Attack on Titan's fourth season, Eren and Historia! Thank you so much for fitting this interview into your busy schedule!"

"Thank you for having us!" Historia beams, a natural at this, while Eren flounders for a good minute as Historia goes through with the usual pleasantries one would normally see in an interview with superstars.

Then, "so, Eren!" Armin smirks at him from behind the camera. They really aren't being too serious about this impromptu interview, but true to the character he plays, Eren is a truly competitive person, so it doesn't take much to push the right buttons. "Tell us! What does this episode entail?"

"Well..." he visibly blinks confusedly. Historia nudges him, which seems to get him to wake up and take it more like the way they want him to. "Well, in this episode, we'll see more about what happened in the four years since the end of the third season. We'll be meeting with...uh...Kiyomi Azumabito, who interestingly hails from the same land as Mikasa is supposed to be from! And—uh—she has something to reveal, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," Historia winks at the camera, "as viewers will come to know!"

"And we'll be seeing a diplomatic meeting of sorts between the Paradisians, and Kiyomi Azumabito as well as the Volunteers," Eren continues, seeming to get a hang of it. "Of course, the subject being aid, and, well, war. As well as...plans regarding Historia which Eren is very vehemently opposed to."

"But!" Historia grins. "You'll see more of that when the episode airs! Make sure to catch the episode on time when it airs~"

"And...cut!" Armin lowers the phone, grinning. "Honestly, Eren, you were more than just taken off-guard just now."

"Yeah, that was worse than actual interviews with actual TV stations," Historia giggles.

"I usually have more time to prepare—" the video cuts in the middle of Eren's whining.

[pre-exercise to a genocide warning by 2 idiots.mp4]

"What is this?" Eren blinks at the speaker set being hauled in by a stagehand.

"It's for your scene where you tell everyone that they're gonna die," the director says in a perfectly cheery tone, as if he isn't talking about one of the darkest scenes in the entire show. "It adds to the effect."

"Effect? I thought we were just editing my voice later, though."

"Like I said, effect," the director nods. "We will be adding some minor effects here and there, but this'll most likely boost the creepiness effect."

"Huh." Eren picks up one of microphones attached to it. "Hear me, Subjects of Ymir," he tries, brightening. "Hey, I like it! My name is Eren Yeager. I'm using the Founding Titan's power to address all Subjects of Ymir. I've undone the hardening of Paradis Island's walls—"

"Okay, enough," Mikasa cuts in, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'd rather not hear that monologue unless I absolutely have to. Jesus, that's so creepy."

"It's not that bad," Jean insists. "If we think about the dork behind the creepy genocidal voice issuing a deadline of life to people."

"Oh, haha, so funny," Eren deadpans. Somehow, the dynamic between him and Jean's actual personalities as opposed to the characters they portray...isn't that different, but it's lighter, in a way. Probably because they don't have death hanging over their heads. "Anyway, this is a good addition to the set! I like it!"

Ymir, who'd been standing off to the side, seeing as she isn't part of this scene, comes closer and picks up the mic. "Wonder what it'll sound like if I just..." she takes a deep breath. "Is this the day? Are you the way I finally find out why~"

"Really?" Armin pinches the bridge of his nose, already foreseeing the result of this. "A Frozen parody. Okay, sure."

Ymir pays no mind. "Show yourself! I'm no longer trembling! Here I am, I have come so far!"

Which, of course, prompts Eren to start belting out lyrics, too, because ever since Ymir Fritz was introduced onto the set the two of them have done nothing aside from causing mischief (which isn't to say they don't contribute greatly to the show). "You are the answer I've waited for all my li-i-i-fe! Oh, show yourself, let me see who you are!"

"Show yourself!" Ymir is grinning so widely that Armin can't bring himself to stop them.

"Step into your power! Grow yourself into something new!" Eren somehow keeps a tune while essentially hollering the lyrics.

"I don't know why neither of them have matured," Connie hands Armin back his phone (evidently having recorded the whole exchange), "but hey, at least it's free comedy."

"Free comedy, indeed," Armin echoes, watching Eren's voice crack and break on one of the higher notes, making Ymir dissolve into hysterical giggles.

[consequences of hiring trained dancers.mp4]

"What are you guys doing." Mikasa deadpans, watching Reiner and Eren twirl around.

"Practicing our fight sequence, duh!" Eren yells over his shoulder, dipping Reiner down as if they're ballerinas. Which, technically, they are. They just never pursued a career for that, even though they totally could have.

"All I see is ballet routines," Mikasa sighs. "Please, be serious. As much as the fans seem to love crack edits, right now we very much need to get ready for the epic showdown between you both. Okay?"

"C'mon, relax!" Reiner laughs, coming to a halt. "We've got it down pretty good."

"Yeah?" Mikasa fixes him with the cold stare that her character is known for. "Show it to me, then. Let's see it."

"Sure!" Eren grins, tugging Reiner into the formation. "We've got this choreo down to the T, you'll see."

***

"That's—good enough—for you?" Eren gasps, down on the floor. Pieck hurries over to them with bottles of water. "Mikasa?"

"...fine," she grumps. "But no more doing dumb things!"

"Yeah, yeah."

[a #real confession.mp4]

"Oh my god this is so romantic," Sasha whisper-yells, angling the phone camera just right.

"They're just like us," Eren says, and in that voice, there is so much hatred and anger—so much resentment and pain. "One day, their regular lives just ended, and everything was taken away from them. They were deprived of all their freedoms."

Mikasa stares at him. The weight of his words is tremendous, but this is so different in a fundamental way from the Eren she has come to know and love. The distant, detached boy she adapted to these past four years has become this, and she hates it.

"Mikasa." He looks at her, eyes full of emotion. "Why do you care so much about me?"

...

...

...what?

"Huh?"

"Is it because I saved you when we were little?" Eren asks. He's direct and to-the-point in a way he has never been before. It's Eren, but he's begging for an answer right now...it seems surreal, the way his viridian eyes latch onto Mikasa's onyx and holds fast. "Or is it because I'm your family?"

"Huh?" a fiery blush takes ahold of Mikasa's cheeks. Is he—is he asking—

"What—what am—" Eren pauses, breaking character with a frown. "Uh, what was my line again...?"

"Are you serious?" Mikasa bursts into laughter, which makes Eren and everyone around them start laughing, too. "This is like, a monumental scene!"

"I'm sorry!" Eren snorts. "It was just too much! I'm not emotionally built for this!"

"Sorry, but you're in for the long ride," Mikasa giggles. "Let's try that again. And don't forget—your line is 'what am I to you?'"

"I know," Eren shakes his head. "I won't forget again."

yes this was kind of unhinged. I meant to include more but I lost inspo halfway through, so here's a few takeaways from this:

- armin won an oscar for best actor. there was a lot of sobbing to go around.

- aot itself won best original score because sawano hiroyuki is a #genius

- some of them livestreamed their first-time reaction to the last ep of the entire thing and NO it ENDED ON THE SCARF.

the inspo for this was a bunch of videos I watched on youtube :") lol bye

[galvanizedfriend]

Fics I will never finish lol

I have like four chapters of this, but it's been over a year since I last touched it, I think it's time I accept I won't be finishing it. So here, have a little sample of a Arthurian Legend AU I was once upon time going to write, with loads of magic, mysteries and some plot twists! The writing is kinda nice me thinks, so why not put it out there?

It was inspired by a book I read and became obsessed with, called The Guinevere Deception, by Kiersten White, which I won't recommed because while the first and second books are great, the finale is ULTRA disappointing, so probably not worth it (but I do love Kiersten White's writings, she has better fantasy books if you're interested).

Caroline is Guinevere, Klaus is Mordred, and it's obviously Klaroline, duh.

--

Caroline did not think men were capable of building places such as Orleans.

In her 20 years of age, she's seen the most wondrous things. Mystical things. Unthinkable things. She has seen the hidden power of trees and insects and animals. The secret art of shaping words into delicate commands that not even sticks and stones could disobey. On rare occasions, she has also witnessed the things that lay in the dark, whispering, waiting, preying. But she had never seen a city.

Her world, she realizes with sudden clarity, was much smaller than she believed.

On her journey from the convent, she passed by castles and villages, both small and large. She saw more people than she'd seen in her entire life before. Everything was new to her - the food, the smells, the movement on the roads, not to mention the knights that surrounded her the entire time. Pretending not to be struck by marvel every other minute was hard. Her travel companions thought they were escorting a princess, not someone raised in a moss-covered cottage in the dead of the woods. But nothing, not even the strongest resolve and the most inscrutable of masks, could've prepared her for Orleans.

It is everything she heard, and then some.

The city clings to the steep slope of the mountainside as though sculpted out of stone. She can't even begin to imagine how long it must've taken to complete the work. It is solid and fierce and proud. And old. So, so old. Even from a distance Caroline can tell - can feel, crawling through her skin - the sheer power that emanates from something that has withstood the test of time for so long. How many generations the city must've seen rise and fall, the secrets and history it must hold in its core? She can see some of the winding streets and houses beyond the walls, meandering up the mountain all the way to the top, where the imposing castle stands, overlooking the whole land.

The view from up there, she thinks... Must be quite something.

And very strategic as well. Amid her wide-eyed astonishment, she still has time to think of duty. It is, after all, what has brought her here, to this far-away land.

What she notices with less awe and more of an unpleasant stir low in her stomach is all the water that surrounds it. A violent river has, over the course of ages, completely separated Orleans from the land before it, as far as she could see. Its rapid, turbulent waters still cascade on both sides of the mountain, forming a long, dark lake that encircles the entire city. A breath catches in Caroline's throat as realization dawns that, in order to get to and from the city, she'll have to cross that lake. No one told her about that.

"Something of the matter, my lady?" a calm, cool voice cuts into her musings, and Caroline quickly suppresses her concern, pushing it down and away. Even though she wears a veil, as is the norm for respectable unmarried women, she makes sure to school her face into as much blankness as she is capable of.

She sits perfectly straight on her saddle, her posture that of a lady, indeed, though that, too, is a fabrication, and could not be further away from the truth. For all her faults, Caroline is nothing if not tenacious. Discomfort and fear won't keep her from fulfilling her task. Or rather - from filling in the shoes of her new role.

Princess Caroline of Forbes, she repeats to herself. That is who you are.

Sir Niklaus rides closer to her, his horse side by side with her own. He hasn’t strayed far for a single minute during the whole travel. Caroline contains the shudder that runs through her form as she feels his eyes on her - assessing, searching, always watching.

The knights have been nothing but a mask of professionalism since they showed up at the convent to fetch her and escort her towards her destiny. They're respectful, if not exactly warm. She is fine with their apparent indifference; in fact, she prefers it that way. To them, she is nothing but a simple woman, a beautiful ornament, dressed and polished to perfection, that they are meant to take from one place and deliver to another, into the hands of her new master. A valuable property, to be certain, but a property nonetheless.

That's exactly how Caroline was instructed to behave. Polite, affable, delicate, incapable of braiding her own hair, like any dignified princess. On top of being dotted with unswerving tenacity, she is also a competent actor, and so playing the part is hardly challenging. So long as the men have nothing to suspect, they'll never look close enough to see the small chinks on her meticulously constructed façade. The complications ahead of her are hard enough without the added pressure of suspicion. And at first, she thought herself lucky. The knights did not care for her at all, no more than out of a pure sense of duty.

All, except for Sir Niklaus.

The intensity in his midnight eyes brushes up against Caroline's every sense, setting off alarm bells inside of her. It is hard to keep straight when he is near. Harder still to avoid him. She can feel his gaze burning holes onto her back or her face. He was hell-bent on watching her from the very first moment, and he did not care much for concealing it.

She told herself that it made sense that he'd show the most interest. He is, after all, the king's half-brother.

The king is notoriously close to his knights, his closest circle of allies being more like brothers than assembled warriors, but by every account Caroline has had access to - granted, not nearly as much as she would've wished in order to prepare herself for what awaits her - no one has the king's ears and trust quite as much as Sir Niklaus.

Their history is a winding one, full of twists and turns and nebulous slivers, but it seems to have done nothing but bring them closer still. There is a reason why someone who rejoices in as much prestige as Sir Niklaus would've been sent on such a mission: to assess her. Consider the worth and class of the deal his half-brother - and indeed his kingdom - is about to close. It's a test. And he appears to take his job quite seriously.

There was a small, rather foolish and juvenile part of her curious about what Sir Niklaus would look like. Not so much for himself, but for what it might say of his half-brother. And she is not too disappointed, she must say. He is a handsome man, indeed, and only a few years younger than the king. He wears his hair shorter than the other knights, honey-colored strands only beginning to curl around the edges, wind-swept after days on horseback. His features are almost delicate - full lips, long lashes, high cheekbones - but the steel in his dark blue eyes gives him a stroke of mystery and severity. She gets the strange impression that he's constantly trying to peer right through her, as though he expects to unearth some hidden truth. And therein her problems lie.

She must be extra careful around Sir Niklaus.

He's barely directed a word toward her during their two days of traveling, but the few times he did, she could not help but be most rattled by the cold disdain that thrummed underneath his remarks. He hates me. Two days was all it took for him to decide she is unworthy.

Part of Caroline feels mightily insulted, wants to raise her chin and demand an explanation, or at the very least more decorum. She is a princess, after all - as far as he's concerned, anyway. But she remembers Qetsiyah's words before she left - "The king will need you, and you must do everything in your power to keep him safe" - and restrains her fire. They will be off to a terrible start if she antagonizes the king's half-brother before they've even crossed into the city.

Emphasis on crossing.

You are princess Caroline of Forbes, she repeats once more. Princesses do not fight their male relatives, no matter how unnerving they might be.

"No matter," she replies calmly, even though her throat closes once more as she sets her eyes on the water ahead. "I just don't like water."

Sir Niklaus' eyebrows arch in an amused expression, his lips curling into a grin that reveals boyish dimples. "Did no one tell you?"

"I'm afraid not," she states curtly, wondering if that somehow makes her seem like a fool. Would a princess know about the geography of her future lair? Would that have been revealed by her father or her servants? Qetsiyah should've warned me, a voice whispers in her head. Qetsiyah's instructions were few and scarce and left much to be desired, especially to Caroline's perfectionist mind, but she is beginning to think the witch might've purposefully omitted information.

"Fear not, my lady," Sir Niklaus continues. "I'm sure we can find someone to carry you across."

His words are almost soft, but the smirk on his face tells her she is being teased.

Caroline pushes her horse forward, approaching the knights ahead and leaving Sir Niklaus behind.

x-x-x

As the legendary city looms closer in the horizon, the tension of the long journey dissipates from the men around her in a mist. The knights are more relaxed, talkative, even the horses trot more freely. They're glad to be home.

Home, she thinks, trying to push the word into her heart and embrace it. Orleans is now her home, too.

The mossy cottage where she spent her entire life and the convent where she spent the last three months are all but gone. Caroline's sixth sense has been acute and accurate since as far as her memory will go, and while the sight of Orleans certainly does awake a good many feelings and sensations inside of her, it also brings a strange discomfort. It's repelling her.

Magic has been banned, she reminds herself. Orleans does not take kindly to the likes of her. It is old and proud and mineral; there's more life breathing in this place than its gray hues might suggest, and that life is ruthless to anything that threatens its stillness. How she is to make a place like that her home is anyone's guess. Something else Qetsiyah did not see fit to disclose to her.

"There are great dangers coming, a darkness that no man is capable of fighting on his own, no matter how great or noble. He will need you. Protect him, protect Orleans. That is the only way to the future."

Qetsiyah is wise and powerful and she walks through time as though knots between minutes and hours and years are nothing but thresholds. She can see into the future, and she saw what was to come. She wouldn't have sent Caroline here, green as she is, with the feeble training she's had, if it wasn't urgent. If she didn't trust her capable of doing the job.

More than that, Qetsiyah believes in Orleans and all it stands for. Ever since the new king rose to power, the place has become a beacon of fairness, peace and prosperity. Villages and small towns thrive all around. Roads are safe for traveling and commerce. Organized farm fields have been built and distributed, and harvest is ready for the reaping. The air in this place feels different. The joy she senses radiating off the knights isn't just home-sickness; they love it here. And the secret to all of this is the king. He's the heart and soul of this place, the very pulse that keeps it alive. Protecting him means protecting all of this. And that is what Caroline has been sent here for. That is her mission.

So simple in theory; so impossibly hazardous and complicated in practice.

"It's a beauty, is it not?" Niklaus' voice sounds close to her once more.

Caroline keeps her face forward, focusing all her attention on the castle, trying her best to ignore the ever-approaching sound of the water.

"Quite impressive," she replies, not hiding her true astonishment. There are many things about Qetsiyah Caroline doesn't understand, many things about her own mission that are still a haze to her, but it's not hard to see why she'd have such fondness for this kingdom, why she wants it to be a paragon for humankind, ushering in a new age. "I'd never seen anything like it."

"Most people haven't. You can see why so many battles have been fought for it. It's truly hard to let go of such magnificence."

The wistfulness in his tone makes Caroline slide him a look, at last, but he's the one to keep his gaze away now. He seems distant, contemplative, and for a moment she wonders if he was even speaking to her, or just thinking out loud.

x-x-x

It's not long before the rich sound of music and laughter and the smell of warm food reaches them. Just on the plane by the river bank, a real welcome festival awaits them. Tents galore, colorful flags flying high - and people, so many people. Caroline almost bulks, tensing up on her horse. She's never seen this many people before.

Swallowing past her nerves, she fixes the veil shielding her, suddenly no longer bothered by how it seems to blur and darken the world around. It also blurs and darkens her from the world. Sir Marcel stops just before the sea of tents, and all the other knights do the same, jumping off their horses and handing them over to the stable boys.

"My lady," Sir Niklaus says, materializing beside her and offering her a hand before she even has the opportunity to try and climb down on her own.

Candidly, she accepts his kindness. He helps her down, his hand lingering on her waist while he steadies her. Close. Too close. She can see shards of golden glittering in the blue of his eyes, like embers burning through a frozen lake. Their skins don't even touch and yet it's like she's been stung.

Caroline stumbles backwards, straightening her posture.

Be a painting.

As soon as she turns away, she realizes silence has befallen the crowd, a ripple of uncertainty running through the sea of beating hearts ahead. All eyes are on her. She shifts nervously on her feet; not very princess-like, she reckons, but almost impossible to avoid.

Suddenly, she notices the crowd parting, diffidently stepping aside as someone makes their way among them. Caroline's heart races manically in her chest, blood pounding so loud in her ears she can hardly hear her own screaming thoughts.

This is it. This is him.

If the people had been eyeing her with curiosity, the looks directed towards him are made of pure, unadorned adoration. They have gathered all here today more to be close to him than they've come to see her. Of this, Qetsiyah warned her about. The king is loved by his people. They would die for him, just as he would die for them.

"Your Grace, King Elijah of Orleans," Sir Marcel announces, voice booming over the hushed whispers. "I introduce you to Princess Caroline of Forbes, daughter of King William."

His smile builds slowly, but it is as warm as the look in his eyes. He offers a courteous bow before her, taking her gloved hand in his and lifting it up to his mouth for a brief kiss. She can't even properly feel the touch of his lips, but it burns through the fabric, a spread of heat rising in her chest.

She heard so much about Elijah of Orleans, but it was all about the legend, very little about the man. She was afraid of what that first impression would reveal, what would sing through her the moment she set her eyes on him; it would be the key to Caroline's entire life in this new kingdom, to her entire mission. But all she gets is an enormous sense of comfort. Instantly, she knows he's someone she can trust, as noble and truthful as the stories paint him.

"My lady," he says smoothly, his voice calm but strong.

What the stories failed to mention was how handsome he is, albeit nothing like his half-brother. The crooked grin on his lips is discreet, but so very charming. Where Niklaus' skin is fair, his is tanned from spending too much time under the sun; his hair is as dark as his eyes, and he keeps it even shorter than his brother; where Niklaus' blue eyes are made of impenetrable steel, his are mysterious, but intelligent and welcoming.

His crown is simple, just a silver band, barely noticeable, but it fits him so perfectly he might as well have been born with it.

When he lifts her veil, eyes roaming her face, she holds her breath in, suddenly terribly aware of her own appearance, and how different she probably is from what he was expecting. King William's real daughter had hair as dark as the night, her skin was immaculate like porcelain, her hands had no calluses. Caroline's hair, although tied in an intricate braid, is curly and wild, having grown without the discipline of being properly brushed like a real lady's should. The constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose tells the story of her life before the months in the convent, free and under the sun. No princess bears such marks on their delicate features. No princess grows up like a wild thing, tasting of magic.

Still, Elijah smiles, apparently pleased with what he sees. Or maybe he's just glad to have her here.

He holds her hand again, turning her towards the crowd so his people - his subjects, his friends and his knights - can take a good look. His newest, shiniest belonging. They erupt into merry applause, roaring with excitement before he's even spoken.

"Behold!" he announces, lifting her hand in the air. "Your future queen, Caroline of Orleans!"

[arklay]

found the connections note mentioning hcf. skin cleared crops watered etc etc

[seokjinsonlyone]

this is how i think it’d go if you went to visit bts at work and gave them a little peck on the lips

namjoon:

you’d probably walk into his studio and he’d be at his desk headphones in playing back some beat or revising some lyrics

you’d come up behind him and wrap your arms around his neck effectively stealing his attention away from the track

and that’s when you’d place a nice little peck on his lips

but that wouldn’t be enough for him so before you could even fully break apart he’d already be chasing your lips

he’d roll his chair around to properly face you placing one hand at the back of your neck bringing you back to him immediately slipping his tongue in your mouth

what once was a cute little greeting turned into a sensual experience as he gently massaged your tongue with his

and when he felt like he had his fill of you for the time being he pulled back, smiling, dimples on full display and said “hey, baby.”

the depth of his voice would send shivers down your spine and you would settle into his lap wrapping your arms around his neck picking up where he left off just bc he was done didn’t mean you were

seokjin:

you’d probably end up at hybe headquarters after seokjin called you when he was done with his day to get dinner together

you’d call him to let him know you’re outside and within a minute he’d be in your car

you’d lean over the center console to give him a peck to which he’d immediately complain

“woooowww i’ve been at work all day and that’s all i get”

you’d swallow down the urge to tell him that he not the only one that work in favor of rolling your eyes and pressing your lips to his again for a little longer

that wouldn’t be enough for him though “just one more,” he’d request.

“one more.”

“one more.”

he knew that asking for a kiss from you was a dangerous game

could feel it in the way he melted against you

could tell by the way he seriously thought about giving you one of his rolex watches you jokingly said you’d steal and sell

or one of his cars you said you’d steal and sell

thought about giving you the world just for one more kiss

yoongi:

with yoongi you’d probably enter his studio (he’s always in the studio) with the code he gave you

which the fact that you were the only one other than himself that had the code did inexplicable things to your heart you couldn’t really delve into without feeling like you were gonna explode

anyway you’d walk in the room and he already knew it was you like you said you were the only other one who could freely enter and he’d be at his monitor doing whatever producers do

“hey just gimme one sec”

and you knew how that one went sometimes it was actually just a few seconds sometimes it was a few hours until you had his attention but you didn’t mind you ain’t have anything else to do just wanted some company

you didn’t wanna disturb him too much but you couldn’t help yourself so you walked to him turned his head to face you and quickly kissed him before recoiling to the couch a few feet away

10-15 minutes later he was summoning you over to him, pulling you into his lap, and using his thumb and index finger to trap your chin bringing your lips back to his for a proper kiss

you sighed contentedly afterwards laying your head on top of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist, showing you what he was working on

hoseok:

hobi was usually a super organized person liked for everything to have a place and everything to be in that place

but you were his little chaos and organization was definitely not his top priority when he was with you taking second place to soaking up every ounce of your presence in whichever way you would allow him

so really it was no surprise when he texted you asking if you’d seen his little notebook where he wrote his lyrics and whatever other ideas or thoughts popped into his head

it took a bit of searching to find but you had it and he was very fortunate you liked him it was the only reason you were willing to drop it off before work

you made sure to let him know he was the reason you looked ugly today the trip to his office severely cutting your usual routine and he made sure to let you know that a) you were beautiful no matter what and b) he would make it up to you

it was only your second time at the new building your first time was when he invited you along for their first look at the hybe insight museum so it was safe to say you had absolutely no idea where you were going despite the detailed instructions one of the staff gave you upon entry if you hadn’t run into taehyun you probably would’ve been running around that building for another hour

you were thoroughly unamused with the situation but hobi looked so cute and sheepish when you entered the practice room wrapping his arms around you immediately alternating between expressing his gratitude and regretfulness that you couldn’t help but press a small kiss to his mouth

an action you instantly regretted bc a) it caused him to start pressing kisses all over your face in return b) it caused an eruption of various forms of shouting from the six other boys you failed to notice upon entry

you pushed at his chest as heat flooded your body from embarrassment preparing to leave you were going to be late for work “be good” you told him personally before shouting “have fun!” at the other members

jimin:

your days off hardly coincided with jimin’s days off mostly bc he never really had days off always had to go in for one thing or another

but his days weren’t always jam packed some days like today he had a meeting in the morning and a meeting in the evening and not much else to do besides that

and he was the absolute worst at entertaining himself always needed to find someone else’s business to get into and as the object of his affection you were always his first choice

he tried not to bother you too much when you were busy though no matter how clingy he was and he was awfully clingy

if you two weren’t able to be joined at the hip in your free time you were definitely on the phone and if he wasn’t the object of your affection as well you would’ve started ignoring him a long time ago as it stands he was the best company

anyway he knew you were off today and had no plans other than finding a new anime to start so naturally when he found himself bored out of his mind he was in your ear purring down the line for you to come to him

it didn’t take too much convincing your attention span wasn’t on your side so you couldn’t really get into anything and even though you literally saw jimin yesterday you missed him :\

it’s why you didn’t hesitate to land a peck on his lips upon meeting him again and latching onto his arm firmly as he led you to one of the small practice rooms they had

“so tell me about your day”

you looked him over suspiciously he had that mischievous glint in his eye so you knew he was up to something

and you were right you weren’t more than two sentences in to your answer before he was pressing his lips to yours in a long lingering kiss

“i’m sorry continue”

“um...” your attention span really wasn’t with you and it was hard to retrace your train of thought with your lips tingling and the hairs on the back of your neck raised

you eventually found your mental footing and continued speaking about your day which had more or less turned into you ranting about haikyuu when again mid sentence he captured your lips between his own one hand tracing up and down your spine while the other held your head into place so he could lick into your mouth just the way he liked

“go on” he panted slightly breathless once you finally broke apart

“jimin...” you whined

he giggled at his own antics loved riling you up found it so cute how you couldn’t even try to keep the dreamy look off your face “you like me so much don’t you?” he asked with a self assured grin etched onto his face

you did

taehyung:

sometimes he felt so sorry to you hated cancelling on you because something came up or another thing ran over time

you were always cool with it tho never made a huge fuss of it which he was forever grateful for bc he really did love his job

but he really loved you too

he had to cancel three separate times just this week alone and he was missing you something bad

and even though he really wanted to take you out and do something nice for you like you deserved at this point he just wanted to see you

missed seeing you in person and having you in his arms

that’s how you found yourself on a bench tucked into a quiet corner of the upper garden at a table chairs side by side his hands toying with yours as you caught him up on your week so far

he was kinda obsessed with you and you loved it because having his undivided attention felt so so good

so you couldn’t help but close the gap, briefly pressing your lips to his

the slight blush that took over his cheeks had an insane amount of serotonin flooding your brain you loved him so much

even more so when he surpassed his bout of shyness and unabashedly brought you closer to him and attempted to make up for a week’s worth of lost kisses

jungkook:

sometimes life got busy for the both of you and even though you meant to meet up it just didn’t happen

but once you finished your work week you made it your mission to see him as soon as possible

you’d texted him when you got off and he told you he was finishing vocal practice then going to workout which left you with enough time to stop home and freshen up before he was done

as expected his trainer told you he was in the shower when you popped up so you decided to wait in the hallway for him to come out

“heeeeey what are you doing here”

you looked up from your phone to see your slightly damp very buff boyfriend grinning down at you

almost instantly you were hugging him arms wrapped around his waist before pulling back slightly pecking him on the lips

which set something off inside jungkook a shock ran down his body just from the feeling of your lips pressed against his

“let’s hang out” you agreed immediately “i just need to grab something from my studio first”

he laced your hands together dragging you alongside him and as soon as you entered the room he had you pinned against the door hands on your hips kissing you with far greater ferocity than you could have anticipated

and it’s like jungkook knew he missed you but he didn’t realize just how much until he had you in his arms your lips on his

kissing you felt like home and his introverted self never wanted to leave the house couldn’t even help the groan that escaped the back of his throat as you took control of the kiss and made a mental note to remember to never deprive himself of this pleasure again

one of his hands slid down your thigh lifting your leg until you got the hint to wrap both of them around his waist allowing him to show off his strength and grope you at the same time

“jk,” you said breathlessly, breaking the kiss

his lips were chasing yours the second you broke contact he didn’t care about breathing when a fire was spreading through his body

you indulged him for a few more seconds before breaking apart again

this time his lips traveled down your neck kissing and sucking until you were making the prettiest sounds for him

you felt like you were going to explode his hands were squeezing your butt and his lips were on your neck and you were going to explode

“jk...” you whined again tugging lightly at the hair on the nape of his neck

he made his way back up your neck pressing a hard kiss on your cheek before gently nudging your nose with his “hmmm?”

and suddenly you were staring directly into his eyes big and pretty and filled with stars shining just for you

you were going to explode “let’s get out of here”

[payasamlover]

Jalebi baby

Summary: Harry and Yn enjoying their after noon with some hot chai and jalebis

Word count: 1k

Warning: None . Just some fluff

A/N: Hey everyone this is my second blurb as you know I'm just getting into writing hence my writings are gonna be short. Also, I wanna point put I'm not a native English speaker I'm from India hence I may not be great at portraying writing abilities. So if there are any typos or errors or any suggestions. You can just drop it in my ask box. I'll try to write long fics in the coming days. Thank you so much for reading. Just watched it As it was bts btw. It was good. Anyways enjoy <3

Terms:

1.Jalebi :Jalebi, is a popular sweet snack in south and west Asia, Africa, and Mauritius

2.Halwai: A confectioner

3. Mithai: Sweets

4. Bukhad: A person who is greedy for food

It was raining outside. It had been raining since the morning and it hadn't stopped, not even for a second. Raindrops were splattering onto the glass windows of Yn's apartment building.

The rain was coming down at a steady pace so it sounded like someone was pounding on the glass and shouting "Let me in!" repeatedly. Yn sighed as she put down her pen. She knew who it was even before she opened her door and stood there was her lovie ."You're going to catch a cold Harry," she said. "Hey Baby," he said softly when Yn opened the door for him.

He smiled when he caught sight of her. Harry looked like hell. He was drenched from head to toe.  His hair had been matted down with rainwater. His nose and cheeks were flushed red. Yn wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly."How about you take a nice hot shower and I'll make you my special chai ?" She suggested.

Harry nodded but didn't move from where he stood. "As long as you join me in the  shower." Yn giggled. "No Harry. We both know I'm just a distraction when you shower."Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Yn watched as Harry removed his shoes and socks. Yn walked over to the door and unlocked it. She stepped out of the way while Harry walked inside and closed the door behind him. Yn walked into the living room, picking up their abandoned cups and plates as she went. "Do you want some food too Harry?" She asked. "I bought Jalebi's from the local Indian dessert shop,". "I would love some," he yelled from the bathroom. "M'kay I'll be right back."

Yn made her way into the kitchen to make the chai. First, she boiled the milk. Then she added the tea leaves to the boiled milk followed by ginger honey and cardamom. While she was busy straining the tea Harry came back from the shower. He was wearing nothing but boxer briefs. Yn bit her lip slightly trying to control herself. She felt her heart racing, not wanting to look away. "Mhm smells amazing  Yn," he said. "Harry placed his hand gently against her cheek and kissed her sweetly. She poured the chai into two cups and placed them on the kitchen island. Harry sat at one end of the counter while Yn took the other side and sat across from him. Yn reached under the table and held one of Harry's hands in hers. Harry smiled. They sipped their drinks slowly savouring every sip until they'd emptied their cups. "There's nothing like the authentic Indian chai innit darling?  It's a real treat," Yn said smacking his lips together. "Ugh Starbucks drink doesn't even come close to this masterpiece," he commented. "How dare you compare this wonderful delicacy to that overpriced highly saccharine drink, " Harry snickered at her comments.

" Oh I forgot about the Jalebis gimme a mo bubs," Yn exclaimed reaching for the top cabinet she pulled out the Jalebis and started plating them. "That looks delicious babe and I can't wait to try all of them,". Harry replied  "Here you go," Yn said sliding the plate. He grabbed one of the Jalebi "Cheers Yn," he tapped his jalebi with hers and then took a bite. He moaned loudly as he chewed. "These are the best damn things in existence. Oh my God I'm gonna cry "he declared. Yn giggled at his antics "I know right." Ever since they started dating Yn shared her culture with him whether it was cooking him her favourite desi dishes or making him watch her favourite movies growing up or shitting about Europeans colonizing South Asia and looting their money and other valuable items even if Harry was British ( he didn't mind tho because he was bitching along with her). He was so eager to learn all about her country and her culture.

"The jalebis here in America don't taste as great as the ones from India though, " Yn said thoughtfully as she nibbled on a piece of jalebis. "Really? "Harry quipped "Maybe you should come to visit India and eat them then," said Yn. "I remember visiting the Halwai during Diwali and ogling at all the mithai. The jalebis and the laddoo were finger-licking good." She said wistfully as she recalled memories. " Ooh, I can picture baby Yn dragging her parents to the halwai to gawk at the sweets". Harry teased, causing Yn to blush.  "Oh shut up you big goof" she replied poking his arm. "I bet your parents would still lecture you for eating too many sweets," he continued teasing further. Yn rolled her eyes. "Stop," she said, blushing more as Harry laughed.  "But seriously Harry, I miss those days when we would go to the market and just doing all the random things", she lamented. "I know baby, I know." Harry said putting his arm around her waist "I just miss them so much Harry I don't have anyone in the states except you"." Yn leaned in to kiss Harry, "you are right " Harry's gaze softens ."I guess it won't hurt to try a little bit more jalebi" "Yeah babe", Harry said pulling her closer. " My jalebi baby," he whispered. " .They spend rest of the day listening to soft ghazals as they talked , drinking their tea and eating each other's food. No wonder Tesher made a freaking song about Jalebi because he knows some bukhad like Yn and harry exist.😋😋

[mindninjax]

Awake

Bakugo x Reader (duh)

wc: 1.7k

A/n: Had a full on mental breakdown yesterday. Tried to sleep tonight. Couldn’t. Wrote this instead. I listened to Rain Clouds by The Arcadian Wolf while writing it and it’s the song that’s referenced in this. I could link it but I’m lazy and depressed so I’m not gonna *dabs sadly*. Anyway here’s a comfort Fic I guess.?

Bakugo: Hey

(2:38AM): uh…hey?

Bakugo: You up?

(2:39 AM): clearly… clearly I’m up Bakugo. Why are you?

Bakugo: Can't sleep.

(2:39 AM): oh. I’m sorry.

Bakugo: Come outside?

(2:40 AM): like outside outside?

Bakugo: What other outside would there fucking be?

(2:41 AM): don’t curse at me stupid. I meant the balcony? Or are we going for a walk or something?

Bakugo: Fine. Nevermind. Forget I asked.

…

…

…

Bakugo: Balcony.

(2:52 AM): gimme five to put on pants.

Bakugo: Ok

(2:52 AM): folk or classical?

Bakugo: Ugh neither.

(2:53 AM): neither wasn’t an option shit head. Pick one.

Bakugo: Whatever you played last time. It helped me feel far away.

(2:54AM): Folk it is.

You put your phone down, the light dying and drawing you back into the darkness of your room. It’s quiet, you can hear him rustling on the other side of the wall, hear the balcony door slide open in his apartment next door and then shut.

You sit in bed for a moment, your heart the only thing thrumming in your ears as you take a deep breath. The city is quiet for the first time in a long time. There are no cars on the street, no sirens, just the sleepy lazy sound of the wind blowing and alley cats slinking through the garbage filled alleyways.

Then you get up, grab a pair of sweatpants and exchange the large holey t-shirt you’re wearing for a comfy but secure cami top. You search around your room for the little Bluetooth speaker and pause when your eyes fall on your acoustic guitar. You smile to yourself, it's perfect. You’ve been thinking about the song, the chords should be easy enough to grasp, and the words have been drifting around your head for days now.

You grab your phone to send him another quick text.

(2:58AM): Change of plans. The roof.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Bakugo: Ok.

He’s up on the roof of your city apartment building before you are, gazing out at the city lights , the moon in the sky blazing white shimmering light through his ash blond locks. He doesn’t turn around or acknowledge your presence when you land delicately on your toes and deactivate your air quirk. He’s wearing a red tank top, must’ve had to change out of the usual black one he wears to bed from all the sweat. His shoulders look broad and you can see the scars rippling down the muscles of his arms.

“Took you long enough, even with your floaty little air quirk,” he taunts, back still to you.

“And yet you’re still here,” you quip back, rolling your eyes and grabbing a crate to sit on. You pull another over and plop it down across from you the same time he turns to join you on the other crate. He has dark circles under his eyes, there’s still a gleam of sweat shimmering on his jaw and neck. He watches in anticipation as you ready the guitar on your leg and hook your arm over it, expert fingers finding the correct chords to strum a lovely tune.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, gesturing to the guitar. You smile down at the guitar, concentrating on the correct note in your mind to start the song.

“It’s a nice night,” you murmur, eyes still focused on the instrument on your lap.

The muttered “It is now,” is swallowed by the sound of you strumming the strings softly diving into the tune as you rock back and forth. You close your eyes and hear Bakugo take a deep calming breath in and out before you start singing the lyrics.

I'm being frightened by the people

They look at me like I'm a scar upon their perfect skin

Perfect to only them

I'm being shadowed by my past

Reminding me of what I was and what I could become

My sins should stay where they belong

The wind is blowing gently and you can smell Bakugo’s sweet scent on the breeze. His crisp pine scented body wash mixes with his smoky sweet scent and it almost feels like the two of you are sitting around a campfire. Your voice drifts dreamily over the lyrics, enunciating the words and basking in the ease of the notes while putting your own lovely spin on it.

Listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

Fear's only a choice

One that we all must make some day

So know you're not alone in this

It’s clear and strong like a bell, punctuating every phrase with meaning that sits in Bakugo’s core and makes his heart do that weird thing where it’s fluttering but also extremely tranquil at the same time. When you end the song and finally open your eyes, he’s looking at you incredulously.

“How do you do that?”

“Hmm?” you say, placing the guitar against a huge wooden pallet gently.

“How do you fucking do that? Every time. It’s fucking creepy.”

“You mind elaborating, dummy? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he grunts, rolls his eyes and folds his arms, pouting.

You roll your eyes before chuckling and answer the question you already know he’s asking. “Somewhere out there. Someone has made a song for every feeling you’ve ever felt. So I won’t take credit for that.”

“But you show them to me.”

“Yes,” you say this as if it’s an obvious statement.

“And play them for me.”

“Yes.” Again, another obvious statement. Why wouldn’t you play them for him. It’s why the two of you are here. Right?

“And make them….ya know… sound good and shit,” he says, stuttering over the words as his cheeks and ears start to turn pink.

You smirk, “You can say I sound pretty. I won’t tell anyone you said it,” you tease.

“Tch. Idiot.”

There’s a beat of silence, you’re lost in your thoughts staring up at the starry sky before you look at him again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to even if I say no.”

“Correct. Why do you text me when it happens? Why me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looks away sheepishly and doesn’t meet your questioning gaze. "Don't know.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, “Yes you do”

He sighs, holds out a hand to gesture as if it’s obvious. Why would you be asking this? Especially after the many nights the two of you have done this. “Just feels right I guess. And after we talk I can go back to sleep just fine.”

“You realize what that is right?” You lean in closer to him, elbows on your thighs, chin in your hands. “That’s called trusting someone.”

“Sure I guess.”

Another beat of silence and then a long winded sigh from you, one that definitely says “I’m tired of this” and it makes a shiver of fear run up his spine.

“Look Bakugo. I’m not usually one that skates around feelings. And as much as I enjoy late night jam sessions or sneaking out and gazing at the moon with you until you feel ok enough to sleep, I…”

He holds his breath, “What?”

“Hmm…” you have a finger up to your chin in the universal thinking pose.

His heartbeat picks up and his fingers start to fiddle in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Fucking what? You just said you don’t skate around feelings so what?”

You frown at him, “Hold your flippin’ horses I’m thinkin’ first.”

“‘Flippin’ horses?’ You’re such a weirdo.”

And now you’re glaring. "Speaking of thinking before speaking. You should try it.”

“Fuck you.” There’s no hostility to it and he knows you know it.

“Very original. ANYWAY, I was going to say despite your constant attitude and constant shouting, I still really like hanging out with you. So I’d like to not only hang out at…”you pull your phone from your pocket and gaze at the tiny blue screen, “4 AM”

Another pause as he processes his elation. He’s happy you’re not telling him this is the last time. But this isn’t the hard part. “Ok.”

You squint suspiciously. “I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“Then say it aloud to me,” you challenge.

This is the hard part.

He takes a few deep breaths and then… “I don’t wanna be just friends with you. I don’t know what any of that shit even means. All the stupid lovey dovey shit Raccoon Ey-”

“Ashido.”

It’s his turn to glare. “Fine, Ashido talks about all the time. All I know is no one talks to me the way you do. And I always feel calm around you. Calmer than usual. I always wanna hang out more with the idiots when you’re around to hang out with them too.”

You smile but hide it behind your fingertips. He doesn’t look finished so you nod to encourage him to finish.

“And I don't know what it is. But whenever I wake up from the fucking …” He doesn’t say the word “nightmare”. He struggles with it like if he says it he’s surrendering to weakness or something. “Whenever I wake up the only thing I think of is you. Wishing you were there, like a fucking idiot. But it never goes away, not until I text you and I see you and I hear your voice.” His head is in his hands, like he’s ashamed to admit this to you.

It’s quiet again, some cars from below have started bustling on the street. The morning wind carries his scent and the city's waking smells of coffee and fresh baked bread. You stand quietly and walk over to him, head still hanging in his hands as he crouches over on the crate.

You hug him, force yourself between his legs and wrap your arms around his head. And at first he stiffens but he doesn’t pull away from you or move out of your grasp. He just sits there with his arms hanging limply at his sides,eyes wide, and your arms wrapped around his head. His ear is pressed against your chest, listening to the city waking around you. You're warm and you smell impossibly good and he knows this is what he craves when he wakes up from those terrifying nightmares. Your embrace is the cure.

“I like being here. I like being there for you.”

Then his arms move up to wrap around your waist and he hugs you back and sighs into your chest. He stays there for at least 10 minutes listening to the steady beating of your heart.

And then he quietly mutters, “Thanks.”

--

[katb357]

Sicktember 24: “I Need You to Pull Over.”

S. McGarrett/D. Williams/Hawaii 5-0

Thanks for the RP Xav!

Danny’s left hand flew to his mouth as that all-too-familiar sensation of nausea intensified. His right hand, white-knuckled, was anchored against the dashboard. “I need you to pull over, Steve,” he croaked. “NOW!” He should’ve known better than to come to work when he was dealing with the tail-end of the stomach flu. Of course, the maniac was going to cause mayhem. And Danny really didn’t want to puke out his guts in front of that barbarian. Especially not in his freshly cleaned car.

“Wait a few Danno we almost got this guy!” Steve shouted back. “I… don’t think you understand, Steve.” He turned his head toward the driver’s seat. Of course, he would probably regret vomiting in that direction the next time he had to drive, but it would be sweet revenge if it ended up in Steve’s lap. “Forget this guy… I… need… OUT.” 

Steve glanced over at his partner and the light bulb finally lit. “OH…! Don’t puke in the car, Danno!” He slowed down and headed for the side of the road. Danny lurched out of the car just in time and lost his cookies. All of ‘em. When he was finally finished, his knees felt wobbly, and he had to grab hold of the car to ease himself back inside. 

Steve was there with a towel from his go-bag and a bottle of water. He never said a word, just handed them over silently. 

Danny wiped at his face and took a drink of the water. “Thanks, Pal.” He fastened his seat belt and leaned back in his seat. “Nice ‘n slow… take me home.” 

“You’re comin’ to my place where I can keep an eye on you. Obviously, you came back too soon. Not gonna let that happen again. Just relax. I’ll give you a nice smooth ride.”

Danny’s eyes drifted closed. He wanted to argue, but he felt too crappy. He would just go with it. Still… he wasn’t so sure he trusted Steve to keep that promise of a nice smooth ride. He gripped the door handle tightly, just in case, and prayed that the drug smuggler they had been chasing wouldn’t show up again.

Steve eased the Camaro into gear and to Danny’s shock, kept the car at or under the speed limit all the way back to the house, thus proving he could drive like a normal human being when he wanted to. “We’re home, partner.”

“I’m gonna remember that buddy.” Danny was still sitting in his seat, eyes closed, but his grip on the door handle had loosened.

Steve grinned. “You want me to carry you over the threshold there, princess? Or are you gonna get outta the car on your own?”

“I’m movin’, I’m movin’.” Danny opened the door and stepped out. His knees were still wobbly, and he held onto the car for a minute to get his balance. “Aren’t you curious what I’m gonna remember?” 

“My good looks and attentiveness to you in your time of need?” “Don’t make me hurl again.” Danny felt the nausea building. Damn… why couldn’t he shake this bug?! “No… I’m gonna remember you know how to drive like something other than a maniac.” 

“Ha! Won’t do you any good. I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

Danny reached to grab Steve’s arm. “Gimme my keys. Drive your own damn car.” The movement threw him off balance and he almost ended up on the ground. “Just get me inside and on the couch, pal.” 

“Why should I drive my truck when your Camaro is so much faster and convenient? Besides, you like being chauffeured around and you know it. And you can’t drive in your condition anyway.” This monologue was spoken the whole time Steve was practically carrying Danny inside the house and onto the couch. He placed a pillow under Danny’s head and a blanket over him.

“Puke bucket,” Danny said. His eyes were already closed again.

“I’m getting it. Gimme a second.” Said bucket was placed strategically near Danny a few moments later, and Steve went to the kitchen to pour his partner some 7-UP.

When Steve brought the glass out to him, Danny tried to sit up a little. He looked at it, then squinted up at Steve. “Didja stir it up? It’s gotta be flat.” 

“Picky, picky.” Steve sighed, then used the straw to stir the drink. “There, happy?”

“I just puked my guts out on the side of the road. No, I’m not happy. But this’ll help the nausea better this way. I learned that when Grace was sick a couple weeks ago.” Danny sipped the 7 UP through the straw and grimaced slightly. He didn’t like it flat, but he knew it would help more.

Later that evening, Steve got Danny ready for bed and headed upstairs himself. He didn’t mind an early evening once in a while. The following morning, he got up to check on Danny.

He found Danny in the kitchen making pancakes. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I was starting to wonder if I needed to blast an air horn at your door to wake you up or something.” 

Steve gingerly shook his head. “No, I’m fine. But I think I’ll skip the pancakes this morning. I’m running late for work. Look, I think it would be best if I leave the Camaro here for you. My truck isn’t running right. It needs a ring job. I called Kono. She’s gonna pick me up.”

Danny frowned. “Skipping my pancakes? Hang on… Steve, you look a little green.” 

Just then Kono pulled up, and Steve headed out the door before Danny could get any further.

They got halfway to the Palace when it hit. Steve looked over at Kono… “I need you to pull over…NOW!” 

The End

[nobodyfamousposts]

Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this. 

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue: 

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

[bonnymori]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

[1101001]

MAYBE, JUST MAYBE _

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‘ when high school ended, your relationship with oikawa did too. years later, something you didn’t want to call fate led you to each other on the sandy shores of a beach in brazil ’

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character .. oikawa tooru 

word count .. 1.3k

tags .. exes (but not rlly 'to lovers’) , no pronouns used , possible timeskip spoilers? but nothing explicitly stated , uhh fluff-ish , written for @itskoushi​ <3

You choked on your drink, turning your head to the side in futile hopes that it would hide your face. Why of all places and all times was he here, at a beach in Rio de Janeiro? Maybe it wasn’t him though, maybe it was just your eyes playing tricks on you.

You peered carefully over your friend’s head for another look. It definitely was him.

“Y/n, are you okay?” 

You nodded hastily, ignoring the suspicious look your friend was giving you. 

“Right, do you wanna come down to the beach with me?” she asked, pointing to the mob of people in bikinis and trunks walking around under the bright hot Brazilian sun. “Seems someone caught your eye too.”

There was a glint in her eye and before she could drag you with her, you shook your head, “No, I think I’ll stay here…”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She got up and muttered a ‘boring’ before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Not two seconds after she left, the very person you were hoping to avoid appeared right behind you.

“Look who we have here.” His voice was sweet like honey, and you had to steel yourself against it before turning around and facing him.

“Hello to you too Oikawa.”

Oikawa Tooru, a boy (now man) who caused you massive amounts of internal conflict. Did you miss him and his chocolate brown eyes and perfectly tousled hair and seemingly carefree exterior? 

Maybe you did, but before you could fall into the trap that is Oikawa’s charm, you reminded yourself that you've already been down that path.

“Thought it was you,” he said, lips curving into a slight smirk. He leaned one arm against the bar table and you suddenly noticed how much muscle he’s built since you last saw him. “So what brings you to this lovely beach?”

You took a long sip from your drink, trying to look everywhere but him for fear of accidentally staring too long. “It was a business trip but now I’m just relaxing.”

From the background, a couple of people were starting to shout for Oikawa. He turned towards them and yelled, “GIMME A SEC,” before turning back to you and asking, “Hey uh are you up for some beach volleyball?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“There’s this small tournament and I’m the only one without a partner.”

It was a very sudden offer and you were hesitant to accept. Volleyball? At the beach? With your ex no less.

It didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Cmon I know you’re good,” Oikawa pleaded.

You were still hesitant, but the thought of playing volleyball again made your hands and arms itch. It seems you missed it more than you thought. 

“Fine,” you said taking one last sip of your drink before grabbing your things and hopping out of your seat. The two of you made your way over to the nets set up on the sand and Oikawa led you to a table to register.

“Have you ever played beach volleyball?” Oikawa asked as he grabbed a ball and tossed it to you.

You lightly set it back to him. “No, and I haven’t played normal volleyball for quite a while either.”

“That’s fine,” Oikawa replied, once again tossing the ball back to you. “It’s a just-for-fun competition anyway.”

And that just-for-fun competition was a lot more intense than you expected. Beach volleyball, you quickly learned, is very different from normal volleyball. Running around on the sand wasn’t exactly easy and being on the same side of the net as Oikawa, although you tried to ignore it, was giving you weird and very annoying butterflies. 

Instead of it being a terrible experience like it should’ve been though, you found yourself relishing the adrenaline that came with the feel of the ball on your hands. 

You and Oikawa made for a great team too. The two of you barely exchanges words but knew what the other meant every time. That combined with each of your own individual talent and skill made you a deadly combo and easily a favorite for the win.

And you might’ve won too, had you been able to continue playing.

You gritted your teeth as you struggled to stand up after an unsuccessful dive. Suddenly, Oikawa was there by your side, extending a hand and helping you up. 

“You ok there?” 

Honestly, no. Your ankle hurt like hell from how you dived into the sand just moments ago. The unevenness of the ground really wasn’t something to underestimate. 

“Uh my ankle hurts a bit,” you muttered. 

“By a bit you mean it hurts enough you can’t play anymore right?”

You looked away and nodded lamely. You’d like to think you changed since high school but it seems he still knew you too well.

“Ok, let's get you to a clinic then.”

By then, the referee and a few other people had gathered around. Oikawa quickly announced your withdrawal from the tournament and led you off the court.

“Can you walk?” he asked, extending a hand to steady you as you got up. 

“I think so,” you replied before taking one step and immediately realizing this was going to be a slow and painful walk to the clinic. 

But you gritted your teeth through the pain and, with Oikawa next to you, hobbled off. You eventually found a way to angle your feet against the sand to minimize pain so it wasn’t too bad.

Although this way was much more bearable pain-wise, it was slow, so slow that Oikawa suggested he just carry you to the clinic.

“No thanks,” you said, gritting your teeth as you forced your legs to move faster.

“Y/n please. You’re slower than a snail.”

You stopped and sighed, a sign he took as you agreeing apparently because he immediately grabbed your legs and lifted you bridal style almost effortlessly.

You were about to protest but the words died away as he looked down at you with a smile.

That smile.

Suddenly, you were a teenager at Aoba Johsai again, walking through its crowded hallways, passing Oikawa and a few of his fangirls trailing behind him. He flashed that same smile at you he had now and your heart skipped a beat. 

“Let’s just hope your ankle isn’t messed up too badly yeah?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you responded with a simple ‘yeah’.

Your mind, at the moment, was focusing on other things. Not the way he carried you without a hint of tiredness on his face. Not the way your arms were intertwined around his neck. Not the way his hair bounced with every step he took, or the way his eyes glittered in the sunlight, or the way you could feel his heartbeat against you.

No, your mind was racing because even though this was hardly your most intimate moment, you felt ‘the feeling’.

Maybe you were caught up in it all. That was a very plausible and realistic explanation for why you were feeling what you were feeling right now. But as you two approached the clinic and he urged the nurses to care for you, your mind wandered.

Maybe he was just being a decent human being. Yes, of course, that was what he’s doing - being nice. The way he held your hand through it all made it seem like he was being more than just nice.

Maybe there was something more. When he looked at you, sheepish grin and concerned eyes, you couldn’t help but feel it.

You were getting carried away. It definitely seemed like you were. But you couldn’t think of anything wrong with the flutters in your chest. Sure the breakup wasn’t the smoothest but that was when you were young and going separate paths.

He might not even be feeling all that you were right now, but you gave yourself a sliver of hope because maybe he was.

And maybe, just maybe, a second try would be worth the while.

. . .

note .. NINI HI IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE BUT HAPPY FVKING belated BIRTHDAY !!! i know how much you love this trope and how much you love oiks soooo *holds this out to you like cake on a platter* ... not much slowburn tho sorry (i would but by the time i finish it’ll be ur next birthday sdkjghs) right anyway,,, hope you like it and again,, happy belated birthday <33

[hoodoo12]

I wish you would write a fic where Beej is once again flirting with reader relentlessly and they just snap and say something like, "Alright fine, I admit, I'm very attracted to you and very interested, but i can't just do sex without feelings. Knowing you as I do, I don't see you reciprocating that, so let's just... stay friends, as we are? And maybe stop flirting with me if you don't mean it like that...?" but the whole time Beej is just sitting there thinking oh my god I don't have to pretend to not care anymore this is amazing???

Just a thought, also ily <3

Everybody's so angry. I love it! I love you too, sweet anon. Thank you for such a fun prompt!

Enjoy!

He was doing it again.

Bothering you by making noises specifically so you’d look at him. Picking on you by tugging slightly on your hair, just enough to be annoying, or putting his tepid fingers on the back of your neck, or pinching your upper arm, thigh, or when he could manage it, your ass.

His silt filled voice whispered dirty suggestions in your ear. That was distracting when you just wanted to veg out to House Hunters International.

Beetlejuice was the epitome of a brat. A sexually charged, inappropriate brat.

Usually you could just shoo him away. Sometimes you had to shout, which you didn’t particularly like, because you were afraid that any attention was good attention to him, like a puppy. You were afraid he’d become conditioned to it, so he’d continue just so you would too.

Finally, after he’d cut in front of the TV one more time, swinging his hips like he was on a catwalk and demanding you tell him if his butt looked good in these pants--the very same pants he always wore, the striped monstrosities that he loved so very much--or should he just wear a thong, he was pretty sure he could get a black and white one to match but what if they didn’t support his junk, wink wink--he actually said the words “wink, wink”--so if there was anyway you could cup his balls just to test the size of them, you know, because he trusted your judgement but be careful, baby, you might wake up the sandworm if ya know what I mean--you slammed the ‘off” button on the remote control so hard your finger hurt and you turned all your focus on him, just like he wanted.

“Sit down. I said SIT DOWN.”

With a grin like he was king of the world, he did. Beetlejuice didn’t expect a full head of steam, however.

You took a breath to steady yourself, trying very hard to count to ten. You made it to six and figured that was good enough. “Beetlejuice--” “Easy on the B word, sugar. It makes me tingly at first but that turns real ugly fast.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to say it again, just to make him listen, but you tucked that card back up your sleeve.

“Beej, listen--” “That was much better, baby! Maybe gimme a BJ? I always like a BJ from someone’s mouth--” “Beetlejuice!” This time his name had a deliberate hardness, making it sound more like a threat. The specter frowned and narrowed his eyes, but zipped it. You were happy he didn’t use a literal zipper on his lips; if he wasn’t sinking to puns, he was actually paying attention. You took another deep breath. “Just sit there and listen to me. Without interrupting, okay?” He gave you a curt nod. “Good. Okay. Listen. Fine. I admit it. I’m very attracted to you.” You weren’t sure if it sounded insincere or sarcastic. Beetlejuice’s expression melted to surprised with excitement starting to well up, so you hurried to continue before he did something like lurch at you to kiss you or shove his face in your crotch. “I’m very interested, in fact, but I just can’t do sex without feelings. “Do you understand?” The specter’s face wrinkled in thought. When a beat passed, you went on. “Listen. I like you. Beej. But knowing you as I do, I just don’t see . . . I don’t see you reciprocating that. The feelings. So let’s just . . . stay friends. Like we are.”

This was getting more difficult. You didn’t want to hurt him. You did like him! But he was so desperate and over the top with everybody. That wasn’t your thing. You wanted a real relationship, and not some hook up or one night stand with a ghost that’d screw anyone who’d give him the time of day.

“Like we are, okay?” you repeated. “And . . . and maybe stop flirting with me if you don’t mean it like that . . . ?” You’d meant to sound firm. Instead it ended up weak and worried. Beetlejuice wasn’t saying anything. He just stared down into his hands. Had you ruined everything? You’d ruined everything. You should have just kept your mouth shut, and enjoyedthe sometimes tasteless flirting he tried--

Beetlejuice mumbled something you didn’t quite catch.

“What was that, Beej?” Oh god, if he was broken and was apologizing you were never going to forgive yourself.

He cleared his throat, doing nothing to actually make it less hoarse. “You, uh, want . . . stuff like that?”

“Like . . . ? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” “Like, you know . . . real couple stuff. Holding hands, watching Hallmark movies, a real commitment . . . ?” “Well, probably not Hallmark movies . . .” “Netflix and chill?” “Beej, that reference is so old.”

He grinned. “Not as old as me!” You rolled your eyes. “How about just horror movies and sex?” His grin widened. “That’s my girl!” You sobered. “Am I? Am I your girl?” That soft-pedaled him too. “Yes!” He reined it in more. “I mean, uh. Yes. If you want . . . ? It would be nice to just . . . not have to pretend I don’t care anymore . . . “ Whoa. That got deeper than you expected. A vulnerable Beetlejuice? An honest Beetlejuice?

“ . . . that would be amazing, I think.” A soft Beetlejuice?

You scooted over to him and slipped your hand under his arm, so you could hold his palm to palm. “Let’s give it a try, okay?” He nodded, and sniffed like he was holding back tears, then asked quietly, “Will there be dirty talk and raunchy sex too?”

You laughed so loud you snorted and told him that you’d see. His grin returned and awkwardly, he kissed you. When it was over, he said that there would have to be lots of practice and without hesitation, you agreed.

fin