#being all 'look. my coworkers going a little nuts and trying to kill me is a normal day on the enterprise. don't worry about it shit happen

[bagheerita]

"Well, whatever he did, I'm glad you're here."

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "Empok Nor"

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Brother's Keeper

Abel wakes up. And his new sister has a chat with him.

I had just finished my nap with the Doctor, whom made an amazing recovery in a few hours time. We were just setting up a... ahem... follow up appointment when the "Oh Shit!" alarm, as the Security guys call it, started blaring.

"Agent Rabbit, report to 076 Containment immediately. Repeat, Agent Rabbit, report to 076 Containment immediately. All other personell are to report to the Designated Safe Zones as instructed. 343 help us all."

"Great. I now have to go see what kind of crap the big Sumerian meathead is trying to pull this time. Chances are, my darling, I may be back soon, but as a patient."

"Be careful, sweet Angeline. Or I might just have to cure him."

"I'm not sure if he has the Pestilence yet, unless being the biggest jerk in history is a symptom. Nevertheless... I'm going to be very careful with him."

"I hope you have a plan."

"I do. I'm just hoping it never moves beyond step one: explain to him he's not just killing people, but causing untold amounts of pain and grief. If all else fails... there's always Dr. Clef's favorite prescription, several rounds to the head from a shotgun." I give my dearest one final kiss for luck, and try to talk my idiot brother out of something stupid.

I reach his containment unit, brace myself, and go in. The security guards on the turret guns are, amazingly, merely terrified, and alive. Good. Big Brother is pacing in front of his cube, but he's unarmed for a nice change. Which means I can try being logical with him. For now. He looks up, and sees me.

"You came back? I tried to kill you, and you came back." He sighs. "You're braver than I thought, Little Sister."

"Siblings fight all the time. It doesn't mean they don't care about each other. Besides, I can kinda get the whole urge to go on a rampage thing. I'm not condoning it, but I can undestand it." I sit down cross-legged, and he follows suit. "That being said, I asked to take a look at your file a while back. It says you vastly prefer killing to causing pain. Okay, but... by killing every single human you come in contact with, you cause their families untold amounts of it. Think about it. Every one of them, someone's father, or sister, or brother. Sons, daughters, wives... grandchildren, cousins, friends, even coworkers... they all suffer for every single person you kill. I suffer each time you break out and go nuts. Not just because I care for a lot of people here, but because I care about you too. And, having to hurt you hurts me even more." I look him in the eye, steel grey to ocean blue. "I don't want to hurt you. You're my big brother, and I love you. Besides, you've been through enough."

He blinks, processing. Then, something anomalous even by our generous standards happens. He's thinking. Really thinking, and about his behavior.

"I'm sorry, Little Sister. It is true, I have endured many trials. I fought, and killed, and never thought about it, I was so blinded by my rage. But, it may be too late to change for me, my sister. My whole life has been a battlefield. Secretly, I tire of it at times. It is, however, all I know. How do I change? Can I even?"

"Change takes time. But... that's not a problem for you, is it?" I grab my brother's hand, and gently squeeze. "I'll be here to help. Just take it one step at a time, just like learning any skill. I'm not expecting miracles here."

"Very well. I will try not to kill anyone not trying to kill us first. After all, a good brother should protect his younger siblings as a shepherd tends their flock, but will fight off any threat to them. You and Iris, you're all I have now. My sisters. And woe to anyone who harms either of you."

"That cuts both ways. Anyone trying to hurt you, Iris, hell, even Clef... it won't be pretty. Family takes care of their own. Granted, Clef is clearly the weird uncle no one talks about but still somehow shows up to all the functions, but he's family." Abel laughs. I think I like him laughing a lot more, he has this huge laugh. It shakes him all over. His eyes are squinted a bit, and he's turning slightly pink in his cheeks. Eventually, the laughter dies down.

We're still talking when a nervous Security guy approaches.

"Uh... is everything okay here? Should I tell Site Command to relax now?" Abel and I exchange quick glances. He then gives the guard a thumbs up. The guard looks like he's about to simultaneously need new trousers and faint, but the alert is called off. Big Brother and I stand up. I hug my brother, glad he at least heard me out. He ruffles my hair, and steps back into his cube. Like I told him, I'm not expecting a miracle. But at least him not killing anyone today is a start.

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AN ARGUMENT THAT GOT OUT OF HAND.

“windows are doors though just so we're clear” “windows are just mini doors if you really think about it” “the WORLD is against you, ___” “if you have to claim things that aren't doors are doors then you admit your argument is weak” “you were ABOUT to argue that rotating locks are wheels dont even deny it dont even try to deny it” “the waters have been chummed--” “YOU CANT JUDGE THE STRENGTH OF MY ARGUMENT WHEN YOURS IS BASED UPON FALSEHOODS” “look windows are basically like those doors cut in half where its separate and you can swing the top or bottom open independently” “ohhhh LOOK AT THAT, you’re using OUTSIDE SOURCES to win an argument. typical” “NOT THIS SHIT MY COWORKERS HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY” “the bees are buzzin!” “also would you count a door twice since it goes two ways or just once” “Windows are doors because I can climb out one” “literally going to climb out my window tonight now” “literally opening and leaving through my window as we speak” “you all are horrible human beings“ “Because I climb out my window door? U can’t take my window door from me” “oh so we're horrible because we're correct” “there is no winning, only chaos!” “don't think you can exclude yourself, you're not an exception” “ok but fruits dont have blood, ___.” “i said fruit juice is the EQUIVALENT OF BLOOD. FOR THE FRUIT” “dont make me bring the kool aid man into this again ill do it ill go there” “hey guys in unrelated news do you think if you turned the kool aid man upside down it would look like a jellyfish a little bit” “fruit juice is NOT equivalent to blood because the fruit does not circulate it” “yeah his fruit juice is jiggling out of there” “KOOL-AID IS NOT FRUIT JUICE” “god i love it when the kool aid man looks like a jellyfish” “IT IS AN ARTIFICIAL BEVERAGE CREATED BY CAPITALISM IT IS NOT FRUIT JUICE” “what is capitalism if not the FRUITS of labor” “capitalism is the EXPLOITATION of labor, it is the exploitation of the fruits and therefore not the fruits itself” “fruit juice is literally also the exploitation of fruits” “the literal point of fruit is to be eaten so that the seeds can be shit out somewhere else” “youre exploiting the fruits for their juice. how does that make you any different than jeff bezos” “i will have a debate about that” “if power corrupts then is capitalism not inevitable, just like fruits?” “power isnt inevitable in and of its self its all a societal construct and therefore man-made” “dolphins don't practice capitalism.” “ok and? humans do and we've got so much history to prove giving someone too much power? is bad. just like. giving someone too much fruit juice. will kill them” “boom bitch eat my kool aid jellyfish” “no i think theyre pretty similar :)” “just because i could probably die from an insane amount of orange juice does not mean that everyone will die from any fruit juice.” “you can die from too much of literally anything that doesn't make it capitalism” “no those are the same thing” “Capitalism deez nuts” “thats like me saying "trees are kind of similar to broccoli" and you replying "OH SO TOMATOES ARENT FRUITS THEN THEYRE JUST SIMILAR TO FRUITS HUH"” “not all windows fit the criteria of doors. but when they do. they ARE doors”

[insaneoldme]

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone! 

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCLX

you know how some people laugh and it just poofs brightness into your soul? that's my coworker Andrew. he told me yesterday he wouldn't see me until next week, and then I went up as I was leaving to see my friend, and he was there, so I called him a big fat liar and he laughed very loud and poofed brightness into me. it was great. I guess I gotta take advantage of Sounding's absence to make it through some of her tags. @diphthongsfordays

jump (youth story d0)

R helped him scoot down a bit so Nyks’ head was on R’s lap instead. R traced Nyks’ cheekbones and applied light pressure to his eyebrows. “Do you wanna just lay here for a while and pretend like you’re sleeping while I play on my phone?”

“Play with my hair?” Nyks said in an amber tone, warming up at the edges but still splintered throughout.

R’s hand ran through Nyks’ dark hair in answer, smiling down at him. Nyks didn’t smile back, but he relaxed into the attention. His eyes were fish bowls but R caught the droplets when the occupants jumped out.

jar (from: the dark, 2016)

To hide all our secrets and keep them in a jar Send them down the river, we'll watch from afar And make hundreds of wishes on a wishing star And I'll take the time to say

Your smile is lightning, your heart is an open sea Your hands are strong enough to comfort me No matter where we go or who we will become Tonight in the dark, being with you is like Being home

knock (summon story d0)

Zan rolled over. His ribs ached from the effort, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind so he could focus on his surroundings. Grass crunched under his fingers as he raised himself up on trembling arms. Where he had drawn summoning glyphs on the ground in sand was now a collection of singed dirt and lumps of discolored glass. Smoke clung to his shirt with a potency much stronger than usual.

He was lucky to be alive, probably. His ribs ached, but he again ignored that as best he could while trying to get his feet underneath him. Zan felt around for Shrader’s Summoner’s Manual. The cover was worn and the pages had a variety of stains, but it was legible, and Zan treasured it. Or, he had.

His ribs ached and his fingers struggled to grasp the book when he found it. Zan blinked hard and careful shuffled through the pages to find the one he’d used to make the array he’d just been knocked out by.

kind (youth story d0)

Irina shot up from her chair. "That's ridiculous. Mark and I are the new mortal enemies of the group. I'll go kill R."

Cal looked up at her, still fairly bright but with a strange expression traveling across his face. "Mortal enemies who care enough to punish their mutual friends for perceived offenses?"

Irina peered down her nose at them both. "What other kind is there?" And stormed off in that elegantly noisy way of hers.

revenge (summon story d0)

"What other things did you wish for?"

Shae scooped up her own handful of pebbles. She sorted through them for a big one and ended up just throwing them all into the water. They fell as one and the sound had no elegance to it. "I just said. I wished for a lot of things. I eventually stopped expecting to get them."

Rhea glanced at her, her eyes drifting over Shae's body like she was eyeing a new hat or a bag of nuts. "Don't try and be sincere with me. I know I'm not welcome."

"You're not welcome because you act like you don't even want to be here! Didn't you assume I was dead? Did you spent any of your precious time wishing that I had survived the fire? Or is revenge the only thing you care about anymore?"

forget (spider ink, 2012)

I wish I could write like a spider with inky feet; my webs would tell stories so enticing you'd forget that once you dropped in to read them, there's no getting out.

blank (youth story d0)

“I like your house the best when it’s also safe for you.”

Mark does this thing where he says his words very softly, and Daniel still feels like they’re cutting into his skin. He stares at the tiles for a little bit. Mark has a hand on his shoulder blades, supporting him.

“You’re sure you didn’t hit your head? You’re being so docile.”

“Since I hurt my elbow, can you cuddle me on the couch?

Mark goes blank, which is signature look number two. “I can get some ice for you elbow.”

ignore (youth story d0 - this is so old and uncanon. oomf. but you can read it. it's kinda cute)

“I’ve met my match. Let’s get married.”

“What about Mark, then?”

“Isanz has Lucas, he’ll be fine. Okay, my neck is killing me. You’re so short.”

Evie drove her elbow harder against R’s ribs and ignored his own groan of protest. “Won’t Bell get jealous if we get married?”

R swung his neck around, the cracks audible even in a noisy hallway. “I have never seen Bell get jealous in my life. Have you? I don’t think she has the function.”

“Bell is too old and perfect for this world.” Evie offered R her arm in place of their lopsided hug. R accepted, then slid his hand down until their fingers were entwined.

He brought their hands up and kissed Evie’s.

allow, accept, agree, aside, against. BONUS: awry, ambiguous. @drippingmoon @dustylovelyrun @ambiguouspuzuma @ambsthom @akindofmagictoo @asomeoneperson OR ANYBODY or nobody

[itspdameronthings]

Going Home Ch9

Summary: Happy V Day to all! i wrote a Valentine’s day chapter when i wrote this later year. during the blizzard. Wanna thank @autumnleaves1991-blog,and @aellynera for helping me with the chapter last year. bless ya both. Wasnt for them. i would not even try to write my own fics. This chapter Benny wants to do something special for Faith on this special day

Warning18+ no minors 

Faith was hard at work. Going over endless casefiles that took most of her time. More the reason to have her office door locked. If she wants to make a dent. Needs no distractions! Her coworkers understood that. Funny that one of them made a sign to warn anyone with a brain to enter at their own risk. Benny was on his way home from work. Wanted to see his hardworking angel. Knowing that she is working late again. He went home to fix her dinner. With a little help from Apple. His cooking skills are okay,but he wants something special for her. He is gonna ask her about going on a trip.Since it was Valentine's day tomorrow. Not to mention her birthday. Good opportunity to make it memorable for her. See the locked door. Benny got on his knees so he could pick the lock. One of the many skills he learned from Will. Comes in handy. The sound coming from the door caused Faith to grab her gun. Fearing it might be some crazed convict looking for a kill. She pressed her back against the wall behind the door. When the door opened. She yells,” Don't move Dirt bag.! “ Benny yells,” language women! Can your boyfriend come by to spoil you? I came with dinner. If you don’t want it? I’ll just sit on the couch. Eat all of the Chicken Alfredo, salad,and oh yummy breadsticks” Faith lowers her gun. Sits next to Benny. Lays her head on his shoulder while he unpacks the dinner. Leans over to kiss him,” Sorry I scared you. Have been so stressed out. I need to get these fills done! My mind tends to go nuts when I am that way. Oh? By the way? Since when did the Delta force teach picking locks? Thought that cat burglars were the only ones that does that?”

 Benny laughed,” Will taught me that. For the record. I had to use it a couple of times in my career. Wanted to come by to ask you something. Since Valentine's day is fastly approaching. Also it is your birthday. Was thinking about taking you somewhere so we can be alone. Want to make it so special for you. You have been working so much lately. Want to take care of you. “ Faith sits on his lap. Playing with his hair,”Thought you had a fight that Friday night? How can you possibly do that? You would be so tired! Don't want you to drive all night! Can't we just stay at a hotel or something. I’ll be fine with it. “ He laughs,” There are no fights planned . Want to spoil the fuck out of you.” 

Apple was at her office. Least she can’t see patients. Another week. She would be on leave. With all this extra weight. Is taking its toll on her. Faith has been the one who has been taking her to and from work since their schedules are the same. With her feet up while typing away. Didn’t hear her cousin walking in with a late night dinner. Patty melts and fries for both of them. Faith plops on the couch, taking a bite of her melt, “ I'm in need of some advice on something. Hear me out before you go all nuts on me. As you know Benny and I are not gonna be around on Valentine’s Day. Benny is taking me somewhere. So we can be alone. Which might lead to..” apple almost spits up her drink,” birthday girl is gonna get it on! That is the best birthday day gift ever.” She moaned,” Apple! You have been around Santiago way too long. All I want is some advice on what to do. Never give myself in that way. “ apple motions Faith to sit next to her. Held her hands,” this is something you will always remember. Being with the one you love so much. What I know about Benny. He would not do anything that would freak you out. Wants to be one with you. Would take time get to know what you both like sexually. Just like Santiago was with me.” Faith’s jaws dropped. Couldn’t believe that she was so shy. Apple told her things about her experiences. Not to scare her, but to tell her to enjoy being near Benny in a new way. 

Benny is whistling a very sweet tune as he comes inside. Counting down the hours till he and Faith are about to go on a romantic getaway. Bought stuff to make it a memorable trip for his baby. Making sure she is not around. He goes to their room to pack. Santi comes running up the  stairs. By the looks of him he is in a state of both calm and full blown panic. See Benny packing,” Hay man, Don't want to put a damper on what you are about to do,but you might want to rethink it. Tell me that you looked at your phone! “ Benny moans,” what about it? Thought it was gonna be just cold and shit. Not.. Shit… Not snow! Expecting power outages! Faith was so looking forward to this!” Santi takes her office chair, turns it around the wrong way so he could sit down,” I know you want to show Faith that you love her man. What a good way to be home. Safe from being on the road. Btw they just shut the highways down. Both of our babies are on the way home. So let's make the best of it. Got lots of stuff to make a nice dinner for them. “ Benny ponders about their usual get together with the boys. He follows Santi downstairs toward the kitchen,and asks,``What about the get together pope? “ Santi was in the fridge getting stuff for his spicy spaghetti sauce,” Will thought it was not a good idea weather wise. Randi is stuck working at the hospital.Frankie has to tend to a cranky  baby. We can have our own little celebration right here. So come and help me cook!”

Faith pulls the car up to the carport. Helping her cousin out of the car. Soon she would not be able to get the chance to go anywhere fun. Soon they come to the door, the smell of garlic and oregano hits them hard! Both of them see their men cooking up a nice dinner . Benny  puts his playlist on. Was fine for santi. Nice selection of tunes for him to enjoy,and not complain about. Both of them singing was a sight to see. Apple and Faith come over to them to kiss them. Caused them to yelp. Apple came over to help,but Santi told her to go and sit down. Benny told her the same thing. Not before whispering to Benny,” looks like you might have to wait to give me my present on a later date.”

While the boys are in the kitchen.  The ladies sneak upstairs to change into something comfortable.  Manly oversized tshirts and sweats. With warm socks.faith comes into apple's room. Plops on the bed," this sucks! Can this fucking snow come at the worst time! Was so looking forward to finally being alone with benny! Now I'm stuck here with you and santi.  No offense cuz,but I don't feel right for me to have my first sexual experience in my cousin's house. " apple slowly sits next to her," that is not the issue and you know it. You are scared about him hurting you. Sweetie , did he promise that he would be gentle? Is his bond okay? So stop thinking about it! Today is your birthday! So get up from this fucking bed. Put on that sweet smile on your face and march yourself downstairs so we can eat! My two babies are hungry! So am i" as they make their way downstairs.  The power goes out! Sounds of benny and santi cursing as they were in the middle of finishing up with a nice salad.

Slowly the girls come down the stairs. Could hear santi mumbling, "where is that fucking flashlight.  Sworn it was in the drawer!" Apple pushed Santi away from the sink. Opens the door. Place a bin with flash lights, portable heater ,and candles on the counter. Pats his tight ass. Santi lights two of the candles,and looks right at apple," you put this together? Not mad mind you,but how-!" Faith leans on the counter. Munching on a carrot," while you men were out yesterday.  We heard how bad the weather is gonna be so..we put this kit together.  Not our fault that you didn't even bother to look under the sink. The first place."Both of them went to their angels to give them a kiss. Told them to go and sit at the table while they brought out the food. Then a nice double chocolate cheesecake for dessert.which was Benny's idea since faith loves it.

The dessert is what the mamma needs. Santi got up to get some whipped cream for it. Then caramel. She can't help herself really. Her cravings hit her big time. Faith was getting rather cold so she went upstairs to get something to keep warm. Apple asked her to get Santi's sweatshirt he left on the bed. When she returns. Heard lots of laughter. Mostly from santi. Telling Apple some embarrassing stories about benny. Which caused Benny  to change the subject.  Apple wants to hear more.. Santiago mentions the time when the boys had to get up really early. It was so cold. Ben  was wearing socks and sweats and no shirt. Walked right outside into the snow. Screams like a baby! Ben threw a pillow at him," I was tired okay! Was my second day with the team." Both girls laughed so hard that it caused them to tear up. Benny asked Apple to share her embarrassing stories about her man. There is one she remembers fondly. Santi looked at her as if he was saying, " don't you dare tell them!" Apple tells about the time when they were teens when he got shot in the butt with a paintball gun! Happened when her, Faith, Santi and Frankie all got paint ball guns for xmas. All dressed in their camouflage attire. Boys against girls.  When Santi bends over to tie his boots.  Apple could not resist! Took a shot,and he screams like a girl! Till this day. He never knew who it was till tonight. Santi got up from his chair. Walks over to the couch, looks into his love's beautiful eyes," You were the one who shot me!? Do you remember how sore my butt was! Had to sit on a doughnut pillow! After that incident.  I always made sure someone was behind me when I went paint balling. Thanks a lot my dear!" Apple pulls him close to her," I couldn't help it. Opportunity was there,and I took it.  Besides. It was payback for what you did to me before that. As I recalled you shot me with a water gun when I walked out of your backdoor! Remember I told you I would get you back? It was worth it!" Benny and faith snuggle close. Listening to them banter back and forth.

Weather is getting colder by the minute. Santi noticed that his baby was getting tired. Benny helps him to pull her  up from the couch. Apple whispers something to him. Caused him to smile. Santi says good night to them both. Not before telling Benny where to find the starter logs. Since making fires was never his strong suit. Faith watches Benny as he starts the fire. Even sits beside him as she  passes the wood to him. He smiles that smile that caused her to go all mushy inside. Not till he asked her to sit on his lap. To enjoy the fire,and finally he could finally relax. Even if the house is getting colder by the minute. Even with all the layers of clothes that faith has on. She is still freezing. Benny needed to find a way to keep her warm. Got an idea. Pulls her up as he goes over to the couch to retrieve the blanket apple used earlier. Wraps her up with it. Gives her a sweet kiss. Pulls her close to him as he starts to sing softly to her. One of his favorite songs called chances are. Faith lays her head on his shoulder while singing. She loves his voice. So soothing. Seems like the outside world doesn't exist. Just them. Felt his arms rubbing her back. Then he started to kiss her neck. Caused her to sigh deeply.loves his kisses. So soft on her skin. Her arms go around him. To keep him close to her. Benny noticed the blanket has fallen off of them. Try not to fall off the couch to retrieve it. Luckily, it was near him. Reaches for it,and tucks them in again. Faith tries to stay awake, but the cold air is winning. Does not want that to happen. It's her birthday day after all. I Don't want to waste the day. Even if they can't go on the trip. Doesn't mean that they can't celebrate. Ben knows something is wrong. He whispers in her ear," penny for your thoughts baby? Seems like you are miles away. " she sighs,and looks into his blue eyes," just thinking about stuff. Thinking how at first I was so bummed about being stranded here on my birthday,and you prepared a nice get away. After you pulled out all of the stops from my cake to the cute cards you sent to my office made me think I already have everything I wanted this year." Ben smiles at her," care to share that gift with me? Would love to play with it." Faith thumbs his forehead," was talking about you knucklehead! The gift I wanted this year is someone to love and protect me. You Ben Miller are that gift. Think it is time for me to give my special gift to you. If you really want it."

Snow slowly falls,and with no power puts a damper on the most romantic day of the year. It is not gonna stop Ben Miller to fulfill his promise to his Faith. He got up to find the flashlight he left on the floor. So he could go down to the basement to find the lanterns.Faith tells him not to go down there alone. Being the stubborn man he is. He goes down there anyway. She follows him down there. Ben looks behind him,” Stay where you are, love. Don't want you to fall. Just wait for me. Okay? I know where I left the lanterns. As soon as i find them. Soon we can go upstairs to our warm bed. The couch is nice,but not suitable for what I have in store for you my dear.” She pulls the blanket around her body,” what are you up to Ben miller? Am I gonna love it? Will I burst into tears?” He chuckles as he picks up the lanternand slowly puts it next to Faith. Asks her to turn one on. The light shining on her made his heart skip a beat. Ben can't wait to go upstairs to warm her up. Both of them go back up the stairs. When they both get back to the kitchen. Ben takes the lantern one hand,and her hand in the other to go upstairs to their room. Noticed a soft light coming from Santi’s room. Sees the other lantern he was looking for on the dresser. Only sound from the room was Santi snoring. Apple’s head on his shoulder. Ben closes the door as they make their way down the hall to their room. 

Soon they reach their room. Which was so dark. Benny nearly bumps his knee on the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed. Put the lantern down to get the small gift out of the bag. Give it to faith. She gives him a very weird look,” what is in the bag blondie? “ Benny smiles.” take the lantern,and go into the bathroom. and put it on. Your answer to your question would be answered momentarily darlin.” She does what he said. Closes the bathroom door. Opened the box to see that it was a red , silk nighty with matching lace panties. Even though it was cold. She puts it on anyway. Knowing Benny would keep her warm and toasty. Takes a deep breath and opens the door . sees candles lit,laying on his side was benny. Under the covers. She starts to shiver when he quickly moves the covers so she could get into bed with him. Not till she sees the red pants he is wearing. Him shirtless. Not the first time she has seen him shirtless,but it took her breath away. Soon she gets under the covers . He pulls her close to him. Slowly kissing her lips. 

Faith feels like she is floating right now. Getting lost in her man’s kisses. Rubbing her hands on Benny’s bare skin. Caused him to moan. Soon he noticed her shivering again. Pulls her closer to him,” there is away we can keep warm honey. Only if you are ready for it. If you are not for it I will understand.” Faith rubs her palm on his cheek,” Whatever it is Ben, I trust you with my heart, mind,and soon my body is gonna yours . so… make love to me already.” He smiles,” What a wonderful way to keep warm for our body heat to keep us warm. He starts to kiss her neck. Making sucking noises to make her laugh. Wants her to relax,and enjoy what he is doing to her. Holding her hands as he continues to taste her sweet smelling skin he loves so much. She closes her eyes as she feels Benny letting go of her hands so he could slide the nighty off of her. Kisses her neck then all the way down to her breasts. Teasing her nip as he licks them. Faith wants to let out a loud moan. Afraid to wake up her sleeping cousin and her man. His mouth is like magic.Already forgetting about the cold. Only that matters now is what is going on right now. Being with the man that she loves so much. Could feel him kissing her inner thighs. Moves her legs wide enough for him to get access to what he wants to taste so badly. He pulls the panties down so he starts kissing her clit. Caused her to arch her back as he continued his quest to make her wet so he could be inside her. Benny knows Faith is getting so wet. He kisses her,” are you ready for me love? Promise I won't  hurt you. Gonna be gentle as I can. Let me know if I hurt you.” Slides off his pants Slowly enters her. Gently thrusts inside her. Being as gentle  as he possibly can.  Ask her if she is okay. She would nod. Not until she starts to cum. Benny would kiss the sweetness from her clit,and her  thighs. Quickly goes into the bathroom to find the wipes. Returns to clean her up,and pulls her on top of him so he could keep her warm. Whispers to him," I love you ben. Want to be with you always." He kissed her sweet lips," love you faith. With all of my heart. Rest now my love. Want to savor this moment." Faith runs her fingers in his hair," would not mind if you were inside me while I sleep. I feel so warm. Don't want to lose that." He smiles," your wish is my command. My beautiful birthday girl." Pulls her close so he could enter her. She pulls him close to her. Closes her eyes. While he rubs her back. Hums a sweet tune till they both fall asleep. 

[gavin-plz-call-me]

Can I have the WC boys reacting to MC who cracks dark jokes and generally has a dark sense of humor?

First things first I'd like to apologize for the delay in answering this ask for you. My computer is being fixed right now, and I'm actually at the library finishing up this prompt 😅 Anyways, thanks for the ask!!

TW: Mentions of Suicide and bodily harm against one's self and others, nothing too graphic though, just baseless threats.

There's also a brief mention of periods, but everything is gender neutral besides that.

Yooha

Is the most likely of the boys to laugh along with you.

When he was still in the painting he heard you crack a few dark jokes, most of them at your own expense "I didn't find that fortune teller and all I got was this dumb-ass painting, that's it, I'm jumping in front of a bus."

And he's just like, lmao same also tf is a bus?

Until he realizes you need to free him, then he's yelling like a madman knowing full well that you can't hear a word he's saying, begging you to at least wait until he's free to die.

I'm getting serious Beetlejuice (the musical, I've never seen the movie 😅) vibes from the two of you.

When he's finally free from the painting and he grows a bit more attached to you he'll be a bit concerned for you, but as long as you assure him they're jokes and you don't ever sound too serious about it, then he'll mostly laugh along with you.

He also eggs you on when you're making dark jokes directed at other people.

"Hansol, I swear to god if you don't turn down your music I'll smash in your kneecaps." Yooha's already handing you a bat to do the deed and Hansol is terrified

All in all, the two of you are a chaotic duo.

Taehee

Taehee finds out about your habit while you're on your period one day.

"Taehee, how much do you think I'd get if I sold my uterus on the black market?"

"Well, you'd probably get a couple t- why do you want to know?"

"Well I was thinking of cutting my uterus out and I might as well get a few bucks from it."

He sort of just awkwardly laughs it off, but he definitely talks to his therapist coworkers to see if there's anything he should be doing for you.

In all honesty, though, he feels terrible and sort of blames himself for your constant dark jokes, I mean the dark jokes are probably a coping mechanism for your awful childhood, and in his mind your bad luck is entirely his fault.

He won't say much to get you to stop saying them though, but don't you dare joke about killing yourself in front of him.

You will bring this man to tears before you can get your entire joke out, and he won't leave your side for the rest of the day in fear of you actually doing something.

On the other hand, as long as Yooha is on the receiving end of your jokes, Taehee will egg you on occasionally.

"Yooha! If you leave the toilet seat up one more time, I'm cutting your balls off!"

"So what you're gonna want to do is make a small incision at the base of the scrotum..." Will give you full, medically accurate, instructions.

Yooha is currently looking into athletic cups to protect his baby makers.

Hansol

Idk why, but Hansol gives me major car-boy vibes, and I like to imagine him pointing cool cars out to you when he's bored.

"Wow! Look at that one MC! It's so cool!"

"Damn, that thing looks expensive. Imagine how much money I'd get if they ran me over. I could pay off my debts and still have enough money to buy a jacuzzi." You then stand up, and take a few steps towards the car, all in a joking matter of course, but Hansol doesn't get that.

He literally attaches himself to your torso, dragging you away from the street, tears in his eyes "You can have all my money, MC, just please don't hurt yourself like that."

You're gonna have to assure him you're joking.

After that incident, he understands your jokes a little more, but still gets anxious when you jokingly say you're gonna hurt yourself.

Doesn't like it much when you're jokes attack other people as well.

"Biho, if you don't wake up right now I'm gonna eat your goldfish alive."

"MC! Biho's a baby, he can't help that he sleeps too much, and his poor goldfish have nothing to do with this."

Maybe lay off on the dark humor in front of Hansol.

Biho

Please don't make dark jokes in front of him, he will cry.

You make your first dark joke to Biho some time after Taehee re-ties your fates.

"Biho, can you hand me that knife? My pinky hurts so bad, I'm just gonna cut it off."

Biho's first instinct is to steer you into his and Hansol's room so he can keep an eye on you, all while you're trying to explain to him that you were 100% okay maybe 99% joking, but he's not having it.

After he puts you in Hansol's care, he goes straight to Taehee to beg him to untie your fates so you don't cut your finger off.

It takes you and Taehee a considerable amount of time to convince him you were joking.

Does not like when you make jokes concerning yourself, and takes every single one seriously.

He's a little more relaxed when you make jokes at the expense of others, but he's very logical about your threats.

"Taehee, if you don't promise not to put some health-nut herbs in our dinner tomorrow, I'm shoving my spaghetti up your ass!"

"That might be a bit difficult to do. First of all, spaghetti is very flimsily and probably wouldn't go into Tahee's butt very well, secondly Taehee is much stronger than you so I don't think you'd be able to get to his butt very well, third..." and on and on and on.

Biho is a very practical goblin, so unless you want a very well meaning lecture about the insertablility of spaghetti, I suggest you don't make dark jokes in front of him.

[bibbykins]

So are the seven princes the same level of crazy or are they are different levels? I feel like their on the same level some just hide it in a different way. I was trying to think about which one I would prefer (although I prefer no craziness lol) and I guess it would be Jin cause he’s at least up front about being crazy 😂

I totally agree! They all are on that same level but they express it differently! Although, the most honest ones are Jin and Yoongi, so I think I would prefer them too lmaoo! Here are some lil headcanons:

Jin:

Very proud of the lengths he'll go to for his Leopard (a lil too proud) and lives for your praise

Has the most honest relationship with you than he ever has with anyone bc you're both kinda crazy for each other

Will tell you what exactly what he plans to do to people who upset you, will maybe even ask your opinion if he’s stuck between what to do

Like that is casual dinner convo if it comes up, makes y’all one of the most intimidating couples tbh

Sometimes you even make requests such as when a professor gets too handsy or if you get jealous

He’ll poke fun at your jealousy but he’s way worse lmao

Doesn’t prefer killing, but nothing is off the table for you

Respects you a lot so lying to you isn’t even an option 

Yoongi:

He has the power to ruin lives at the drop of a hat 

You have the power to make him drop said metaphorically hat at your whim, sugar baby energy

You both control each other so easily and it’s very equal and mutual relationship 

He is also very protective

Not above hiring to kill, but will only do it if you ask bc he thinks death is too easy

Usually blackmails and puts anyone who bothers you in prison or far away in a miserable state of living 

You don't bore yourself with the details how he got rid of someone unless you really want to know

He lets you know if he’s gonna do something and for what reason before he does anything, giving you a chance to be like, “nah, don’t” but there is one exception...

If he sees you cry he basically sees red and hunts down whoever made you cry. You're his Sunshine, if you cry, someone is paying the price

Hoseok:

Sometimes, he wishes he could lie to you, but not only is he incapable, he cannot bring himself to do it

So he is just like “alright, do you want me to tell you or do you want me to only tell you if you ask?” 

After much deliberation, you’re like, “Just let me ask first.” bc same as in the fic, you’re just like some shit is above my pay grade, literally or metaphorically

Doesn’t like hiring to kill, he prefers ruining lives to make them suffer through it

V short temper when it comes to people even looking at you wrong so he doesn’t tell you when he’s gonna do anything

However, if you sense he might and tell him not to, he’ll respect your wishes or negotiate

Thinks it’s hot when you loose your temper and tell him to do whatever he wants, knowing he will definitely do something

You tell no one about the gratification you get feigning shock when a coworker tells you “so-and-so got fired and was barely able to get a job in the countryside, and he hates rural towns.” and you just say, “oh my, what a shame” with an internal smirk

Namjoon:

First things first, you both know that you know, but you also silently agreed not to talk about it most of the time

If you think about it too hard, then you feel bad(sometimes), so you just... don’t think about it

Altough, you are his alibi with no questions asked at any given time

He will do whatever he feels like he should, even gets advice from some of the other girls, mostly Leopard and Sunshine

The girls will tell you if he asked and you’ll just be like, “you guys are so silly and overprotective lmao”

Times will come when you’ll just thank him if you hear about what he “may or may not have” done and he’ll act casual but be rlly giddy internally

The closest to a regular relationship is you guys, but that’s mostly by default bc in reality y’all are codependent AT BEST

But similar to Sunshine, you also have sugar baby energy when it comes to his craziness

Jimin:

Enjoys threatening people in the name of love and is not above murder, but would never do it himself, would rather pay someone else to

Always says he hates when you question him or talk back but secretly enjoys it so he makes 0 attempt to hide his sinister tendencies from you

He just... never rlly tells you? If you ask he will, though and you’re just kinda *shrug* about it and sometimes use it to your advantage

Extremely supportive of your dreams- especially since it consists of mostly staying home and doing work there and is still trying to make you his manager

You're the only person that can tell him what to do and he'll listen most of the time

Although, he seldom respects your wishes or gives you permission to do stuff- not that it ever stops you/not that you ever ask

He has the “yes honey” yandere vibes rlly

Taehyung:

Not afraid to ruin lives for his lover and has no remorse for anyone who threatens you or what you both have

Strives to keep his darker tendencies hidden bc he wants to keep you pure, whatever that means

Supports your dreams- and is thankful they involve things he can employ you for/ things you can work from home for (although the embroidery needles make him SWEAT esp when you prick your fingers)

He would hate to think of what he would have to do if you wanted to go in a field he had no connections in, although there barely is any field of the sort with his job

Tries, usually in vain, to keep his stalker tendencies at bay, but who can blame him when you look so cute sleeping

Does his absolute best to respect your wishes.. although is not above lying to you about tampering with the situation

It's for your own good, you're too pure to understand the things a person like him has to do for your love

Jungkook:

Kind of almost a nut case, but he's your nut case since he tries to be subtle about his darker tendencies 

Is not great at it, but he doesn't go too far (in your mind) so you let it slide

Plus you're not exactly sane yourself, so it works out when you want him to put someone in their place

You're not a violent person, but he is when you need him to be, so you’ll just be like “ugh, this person tried to short me on a alter for a dress” and he’s out the door or making a phone call

Hates to lie, so never really does, just like Jimin he just doesn’t say anything unless you ask, except he tries to sugar coat it. (If you press further, he’ll crack under the pressure and be flat out) bc even when he does lie, you can tell and he knows

Not great at putting his emotions into words and is kind of a mess but is figuring out how to boyfriend and not stalker

Kind of endearing but a little frustrating at times

Seven Princes of Campus Masterlist

[werezmastarbucks]

mystic falls

word count: 2269

music: no one’s gonna love you by band of horses

honeymoon masterlist

You made a sharp turn, and Kai stretched out his neck curiously as if he was seeing the highway for the first time. His head must be going nuts now, you assumed, after his long struggle to get out, after he finally was free, only to go back again, and into exactly the same world. 

“So, it’s ‘94, right”, you said, just to say something. Kai looked at you like you were just a little stupid. 

“Yeah. Why are we going to Mystic Falls?”

“I want another car. This planet must be full of abandoned cars”.

“Why do you want another car?”

You squeezed Chevy’s reliable leather steering wheel and thought about how much you despised everything that reminded you of Damon now. The road was silent and empty, and at first sight, there wasn’t anything special about it. On your way to the town, you stopped several times just to listen to the lifeless wind, while Kai sat patiently in the car. He was suspiciously nice. He was clearly trying to behave. 

“I don’t want to be endlessly driving this piece of shit”.

“I thought you liked Chevrolets”, Kai reacted immediately. You raised your brow and looked at your clean knuckles. Those healed overnight, just like there was no trace of suffocation neither inside nor on the outside of your neck. You were the same as yesteday, again. That’s how this world worked, you figured. 

“How do you even know that?”

You stopped yourself from adding,

I’ve known you for two weeks.

“You’re my girlfriend”, he smiled like the sun itself. The sunrays really did fill the car and you looked at him, his face drowning in the shining. Then the sun got cast by a small cloud. 

“I needed to know everything about you”.

“I became your girlfriend after that one date we had?” you clarified.

“Yeah”.

No point arguing it now. It doesn’t really matter what you are to each other. Spouses. Who gives a fuck. You’re stuck here.

You thought that probably this will be the butt of a lot of pondering now. Doesn’t matter, because you’re stuck here. 

“So, they’re just scattered around, like in a zombie apocalypse?” you asked, “the cars?”

Parker fidgeted in his seat, clearly excited about sharing something about this world with a person. There was finally some ground he could stand on; he knew more than you in this. He had some sense of control. 

“Not scattered. The spell consists of several parts, it’s very complicated. One of the aspects is putting everything in order after you’ve made a copy of the world. My coven made the copy of their world at about eleven at night, so that second in this world repeats it in everything. But at that moment, obviously, in different parts of the world, all the objects were in motion. It’s day somewhere, night in another country, someone is flying in a plane, some cars are on the roads, maybe a brick is falling from the roof somewhere. So, all the things in motion are put back into their closest resting places by the spell. Like, if a car was on the road at the moment, it’s put into the nearest parking lot. Somewhere it’s still messy though. The spell obviously has a field of influence, and it’s not omnipotent”.

“So, the further from Portland, the messier things are?”

“Yeah”, Kai nodded, raiding Damon’s gloves compartment restlessly. 

“In Australia, all the cars are just like in a zombie apocalypse. But some are like that even here. In New Orleans, on the King Street, there’s a red SUV standing in the middle of the road, like it’s been abandoned. And I don’t know why it got from under the spell”. 

The witch shrugged and looked out of the window. 

“You’re holding up well”, you noticed, dispassionately. After what he’s done, you didn’t want to be cute with him anymore. Didn’t want to show any more compassion. You had to get over your own bitterness first. 

“Well, you’re with me. And I will find a way to get out. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. You don’t pin down Kai Parker and get away with it. I’m...” he suddenly yawned, like a child, stretching out his arms and knocking on the ceiling with his fingers. You looked at how his face changed, as he performed this simple human motion. He had a hook inside of you, very deep, and you now felt it vividly. Kai somehow won you over, and you didn’t even notice. There was no use asking yourself again and again why you went with him.

“I’m real tired of this place”, he slapped his hand on your lap, “we’ll get out”.

“Don’t touch me”.

He gave you a long look.

“Are you still mad?”

“What about other things? Except cars? Electricity? Lights? Amusement parks? How is all working?”

“You can turn it off and on. If the street lights are automatic, they go on by themselves, and shut down in the morning. If you wanna have a ride on a ferris wheel, I can do that. I know how to operate virtually everything”.

“And the other times of day? You said it’s a copy of eleven at night. What about then?”

“Then the midnight comes, and it’s the tenth of May again. Well, in our time zone. In places where it was the eleventh, it’s the eleventh again and again. At midnight, everything restores back to place. Just like you”, he gestured towards your hands that were burned yesterday. “Whatever was hurt, heals, and resurrects. All the things you destroy get back up together. And work like they worked during the day. Basically everything is fully working, only, there’s nobody to operate it”.

“What if, say, at one in the morning, somebody broke a street light somewhere in... Houston?”

"There’s no one to break it now. The spell just copied the basic functioning state of things, but it neglected human interaction with them. The light that was supposed to be broken is fine here. Everything that was spoiled on that day by humans...” Kai looked out of the car almost melancholically, but it was very unlikely he acknowledged the poetry of his statement,

“Is safe from them here”.

You turned your face away not to let him see your expression. What he said somehow made you feel vulnerable to feeling, and you hummed.

“Unless you wanna go to Houston, find that exact street light and snap it, of course”.

“I don’t know where it is”, you replied philosophically.

“You have time enough to find it...”

“So, I can just walk into someone’s house and the taps will be working”.

“Yeah. You can watch TV, but it’s all the television from one day in ‘94. At seven in the morning they put on...”

“I don’t wanna know”.

“You get how it’s all very frustrating, right?”

“What about other forms of life?” you demanded. Kai kept quiet for some time as you drove into the empty streets of Mystic Falls. You stared around, barely recognizing your own hometown. 

“I don’t get it, are you mad or not?”

“What do you think, am I mad? I am mad, Kai. I am fucking mad”.

“Because you’re in prison, or because I tried to kill you?”

You moved your mouth with exasperation and didn’t manage to utter anything.

“I said I was sorry. How many times do I have to apologize? Do you realize how much it means if I apologize to you?”

“I don’t think rules of normal interaction apply, honey”, you barked sarcastically, and his face still lit with delight at hearing the term of endearment. “This is the planet where there’s nobody else but us, so you don’t have any choice, and you’ll apologize as many times as I need you to”.

“Yeah, or I could actually kill you or lock you away somewhere so that you don’t get on my nerves”, he said.

You bit your lower lip, laughing. You knew now you had leverage, and it was beautiful. No amount of cockiness would diminish the raw need he demonstrated last night. And he knew it was his own mistake. Kai’s cheekbones got sharp like rock tops.

“And be alone?”

“I can use you however I want”.

“I’ll run away from you”.

“You can’t run away from me”.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

You stopped the car in the clearing looking like a prehistorical parking lot. There was a couple of decent looking rides. 

“You want me to freeze you out? You’re not the only one who can be manipulative, Parker. I can make you very miserable here. More miserable than you were before. You want that?”

You really had no idea what you were saying, but you made a threatening face. Kai’s eyes were wandering on it as he thought. There must have been a reason he had his eye on you in the first place. 

Instead of getting scared, he got horny.

“I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to”, he murmured. The air became dense all of a sudden.

You got out of the car, and he moved, like your own shadow, mimicking your movements almost synchronized. You slapped the door with force just to shake off the goose bumps from your skin. The street was completey silent once again. It must alter your mind to live in such silence all the time. No chatter, no voices, no tires screeching, no horns. No doors banging, no bells, only the lonely howl of the clock tower. The wind, and your own steps. Crazy.

“Which one do you want?” he asked energetically, turning to the wide spectrum of cars parked in front of a coffee shop. You did not remember Mystic Falls like that. 

“Do you know how to start a car?”

“In ninety-four, people left the keys inside”.

“Like in the movies? Above the wheel?”

He chuckled.

“Exactly”.

“Get the things from the trunk”, you said, and Kai frowned. You could feel with the back of your head he didn’t like being told what to do. 

He could turn it all into sport, of course. Let you go, hunt you down. Keep killing you, use you however he wanted. But it seemed this time he really was tired of being alone. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behing the car and open the trunk, and get out the bag filled with clothes you stole from the Salvatore mansion. 

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, Kai was slowly agreeing to comply, and to cowork with somebody. Perhaps he had a bigger plan. But it didn’t matter just now.

You walked to the wine red Dodge Ram and looked inside. It looked like the interior of the car was heated in the sun. All of a sudden, you wanted a coffee.

“Why were all cars so ugly in the nineties?” you asked, opening the door and getting into the driver’s seat. You shuffled around the wheel and found the keys were sticking out of the ignition. Someone must have stepped out of the car to have a smoke, or it was a reckless car owner who went into the shop to get a coffee and wasn’t worried about their car being nicked. But then again, it was ‘94. Life was so so much easier. As you watched Kai crawl up next to you and sigh contentedly, you asked yourself if life had been easier for him. Sometimes you forgot he was the ultimate nineties guy. 

You started the engine and looked at Damon’s blue Chevy left by you in the middle of the parking lot, right in the center. Kai didn’t even close the trunk. 

“What happens to her?”

“She stays here”, Kai said, buckling up. He raised his eyebrows at your questioning look.

“What? You’re driving like you’re trying to get back into the future”.

“You don’t like my driving, you can walk to Ohio”.

“You don’t have to be so mean about everything”, he cooed peacefully. You scoffed. 

“Why does she stay here? Aren’t things supposed to align back after midnight?”

“Nah. Only damage falls under the order spell. The things you misplace stay where you left them. Same happens with travelling. You’re an object, too. Imagine how much harder this whole thing would suck if I got away from Oregon during the day and suddenly teleported back home when the clock strikes midnight”. 

Parker smiled darkly. 

“That would be the real prison”, you thought out loud. Kai gave you a vague look.

“No, you can take things with you. But the window you break restores back the next day... which is the same day”.

“And what about animals? No birds, no cats?”

“No. Only the smallest fellas here. You wouldn’t be able to breathe without them and... well, you need the smallest microbes”.

“So, if I cut myself on rusty iron, it will get infected”.

“Yeah. But you won’t suffer long, you’ll be fine at night”.

You hummed.

You looked into the back seat, guiding the wheel with one hand. Suddenly, driving became so easy when you knew there was nobody to run over, or witness your disgraceful style. Kai and his backseat driver opinions didn’t matter. You pulled your belly bag onto your knees and took out your phone, still alive.

“Good news, I have the charger for my phone”, you said. The simplistic, flowerless yet streets of the old Mystic Falls were sliding by idly. You sped up a little, listening to satisfying Ram roar. 

“Bad news, I can’t connect it to the car radio, because the iPhones are not there yet, and bluetooth...”

You looked at Kai.

“Was it invented in 1999 or 2000?”

“Are you asking me? I’ve spent eighteen years locked away”.

“But you learnt about the world pretty quickly though. I know you’re very savvy in computer shit”.

“I’m gonna miss that”, Parker muttered, looking forwards on the road in front of you. Although he knew this world, and the things in it, he agreed on going back the whole way to look for an escape route. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore, or was indulging you for the sake of it; he agreed to go look for ‘something’. This something had no shape or size, and you didn’t know how it worked. Maybe he just wanted to move to create an illusion of progress. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of here to gut Damon.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

if you have a question about aussie slang, for a fic or whatevs, please just ask i don't know all of it, but we do have some fun words and sayings that are day to day statements

esp. the more rural you go

not everyone has the full accent though, because you do get a lot of pressure at work to come across... professional or whatever.

the only one i've never been sure of being an Actual Phrase, or if it Became A Phrase after popularisation on a tv show, is "Stone the Flaming Crows" bc a dude from Neighbours used to say it frequently.

examples of day to day stuff i can think of right now

mad as a frog in a sock (angry about something, went off, off the shits)

mad as a cut snake (usually means 'they're nuts', but can also mean they exploded with anger, usually contextual)

she'll be right (it's fine - can be a flippant statement, can be reassurance, etc)

drongo / galah - (idiot, not very smart, wanker, etc)

dunny = toilet

thunderbox/outhouse / long-drop - usually outdoor toilet

dry as a nun's nasty / dry as a dead dingo's donger (I am thirsty, or It Is Hot AF/we need rain so bad)

chuck a u-ey (do a u-turn)

Oi! (Hey I want your attention/i was surprised, general exclamation, stop that, you are in a lot of fucking trouble mate - depends on the tone of voice and volume) like "OI!" says aunty ruth has just found her dentures in jello and she knows you did it, etc

Bugger off (go away, or sometimes a statement of disbelief)

Yeah nah /Nah yeah (can mean yes, no or maybe depending on what was said directly before the statement)

you cant pull the wool over my eyes - you can't lie to me like that / i can see you are not telling the truth

shut your gob / put a sock in it / put a cork in it - (shut up / shut the FUCK up / close your mouth or i will shut it for you) depends on tone

Ya wally (you idiot)

Roo = kangaroo

o = can be affixed to anything to shorten it at the servo - gone to the service station, arvo - afternoon, smoko - morning tea, bottlo - where the grog is

goon/goonsack - wine in a box

grog - alcohol

stubbie - beer, ususally

boardies - board shorts

rashie - swimming shirt,

slip, slop, slap - ancient proverb for avoiding sunburn. singing pelican.

thongs - footwear

sheila = female / woman, don't hear this a lot at the moment tbh except in certain contexts or from specific people

'Getting rowdy' = things are heating up, people are riled up, a fight is about to/has just broken out, etc.

DJ's like a mad cunt = one very specific meme about a bad PM we had like 10 years ago. i can't tell you how many PM's ago, it's been game of thrones here lmao

Beyond the black stump / Out whoop-whoop / references to timbuktu (quite a distance away)

strewth!/crickey!/bloody hell - (exclamation of surprise, expletive replacement, etc)

flat out like a lizard drinking (tired / drunk / exhausted / sleeping)

pull a harry holt - (I've heard a dozens variations of this one, it means Go Missing / Disappear, often used as a joke. PM Holt went swimming one day and disappeared)

have a stickybeak (to poke your nose in/investigate/look around)

chuck a wobbly/throw a tanty/chuck a tanty/throw a wobbly (throw a tantrum, i have legit never seen anyone successfully deescalate a situation by telling someone not to chuck a wobbly or throw a tanty, go figure lmao)

bogan - (very specific kind of low-income, generally white, people. sort of like rednecks, but with more stereotypical aussie features like a mullet, singlet tops, sunnies, stubbies, etc. tend to fall under the liberal party ideology - who are our republicans... )

ankle-biters / rugrats / little takkers / gremlins / nippers - (kids, usually the littler ones)

tiff - argument, small fight (had a tiff, had a row)

pav = pavlova

piss/whizz/take a piss = going to pee

vegemite - delicious

Kiwi = New Zealander

Banana benders - the disrespectful bs that apparently other states call anyone living in Queensland, the wankers

station - farming areas that have sheep or livestock usually, have farmhands etc.

dole bludger(s) - (anyone on Centrelink, whether they want to be or not, with no other employment. but like, a lot of people on centrelink have a job that does not cover enough and need additional financial supports to meet a minimum wage, or are students or apprentices, etc. there are people who go on centrelink on and off to avoid engaging in the jobseeking stuff, they are the real dole bludgers, but a lot of richer people tend to call anyone on 'welfare' bludgers)

don't you come the raw prawn with me - (do not lie to me / don't try that shit with me, mate / I wasn't born yesterday /etc)

dak/dack - to dack someone is to come up behind them and yank their pants down (or skirts). Often taking out your boxers, too.)

budgie smugglers - (speedoes, male swimwear)

togs/toggs or cozzie (swimwear, any kind. cozzie = costume)

mozzie - (mosquito)

better than a kick up the backside /better than a kick in the arse - (pretty self explanatory, one of those phrases parents use to get slightly hurt kids to start laughing and/or coworkers to commisserate about new work rules, etc)

I wouldn't piss on (name) if they were on fire - (self-explanatory, you hate them, or they're a useless tit or an insufferable person /a suckup etc, and you would gladly hand them a match)

one for the road = getting a drink for the road, usually. can also make a joke of it like, "one last piss for the road" = I'm going to the bathroom before I leave

here's your handbag, what's your hurry - probs not an aussie phrase but a common joke in my family

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

So like, there's some words and items from Australian Indigenous culture that often get used wrong in stereotypical characters, like saying 'gone walkabout', using 'cooee', making digeridoo jokes, and making some really uncomfy 'savages' statements can be very disrespectful. You might want to go looking into Australia's fucked up policies and historical (and only recent) situations before starting any arguments about this stuff... in many ways it mirrors the cruelty of american colonisers to native american peoples, etc.

Avoid some phrases. Your character gone to cool their head? He's gone off on to soak his head, or he's on his bike (gone away) but he'll be back... You can use 'Oi, dickhead!'

Please don't mock the names of towns or places, they are often the names from the traditional custodians and inhabitants.

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

Random things:

We drive on the left side of the road, driver's side reversed.

More of our cars are automatic than manual. Utes aren't atypical, but bigger vehicles are out in rural areas because more than a few of the rural roads are poorly maintained or dirt, with potholes that yoyo your soul into your body.

If you have a character on a long drive on a non-highway, or rural road: +if you are on a one-lane road and someone is comingthe other way, you both move half-on, half-off; for big vehicles or trucks, you can choose to pull off completely and stop. Just for safety, esp. in rain, fog, mist or late at night. +at one-lane bridges, you have a give way sign on one side. if you want your characters to have a moment of 'pause to look at each other while driving' or 'a quiet moment of reflection', have them wait for another car or truck to pass from the other side. These can be a few metres long, to like, a really long bridge. +They may pass markers that say 'flood level marker' with numbers of 2, 3 or 5 metres. Could be useful to remark on if your fic needs a reason for them to have a crisis. +Bushfire warning signs (from Low to Catastrophic) are frequent +Animal Crossing signs are very frequent, and often have a wildlife rescue number on them +Water restriction signs are in most small towns, they range from levels 1 to 6. This can change what the characters are allowed to do with water in little towns, etc. +You may occasionally find a small servo and one or two houses. +pubs don't open/won't serve alcohol until after 10am. the joke has always been, 'beer on your cornflakes' but you will never be able to actually get that unless you preplanned the night before in your hotel room. +Around dawn and dusk, a lot of animals like hares, kangaroos, wallabies, sometimes echidnas and koalas and little numbat things, and snakes and bushmice will be close to the road. Sometimes dashing across. They do not react logically to cars approaching, and will leap out at random. Hares do this zigzag nonsense. If you need the character to hit the brakes frantically, or swerve, this is a good reason. If you are ever driving here and see an animal on the side of the road, flip lights to low beam, slow down and watch to see how they react. If you can. If there's a truck blaring down on you, you may not be able to.

+Emus are in more rural areas. Echidnas sometimes appear on fringes of towns though.

+Kookaburras are a lovely creature, I have rescued a few and they are nice... but their laugh is very grating when it goes off super early in the morning. They eat snakes (good) and baby birds (not so good).

+Lots of snakes round here. LOTS. Carpet Snakes are pretty common, red-belly black snakes, eastern brown (big danger!!!), whip snakes have declined in my region, keelback snakes, this one black and white banded one we found deceased, etc. Snakes can climb, snakes can SWIM. Putting something that stinks around a campsite MAY help, but not always.

+Never go swimming in a dam you don't own, and that hasn't been checked, and if no one knows where you are. How deep is it? What's on the bottom? How stirred is the water? etc.

+Kangaroos CAN drown you. They have perfected this attack, and will do it to humans, dogs and other pursuers alike. They can also eviscerate you with their hind paws or shatter your ribs with a kick. The 'boxing' they do is exceptionally violent. This seems to surprise people, but like, giraffes can kill each other by slamming their heads into each other, you think a 7 ft swole motherfucking cryptid can't do harm? They can be lovely tho, if they trust you. But DO NOT GO PETTING WILDLIFE.

+Dropbears, austrilanicus vericanthus bitus, are real. We do make jokes about them, but they are a Problem. The pee on yourself thing won't ward them off, that's more about working out which tourists are the most gullible (and if they run with it, the moistest) lmao. Akubras and other thicker-layered headwear,

+We have wild dogs and feral pigs. Do not fuck with the feral pigs, some are HUGE, and no... they're not just pigs who escaped farms, these are MASSIVE motherfuckers who will Get You if they See You. Rustling in the night outside the tent? Good Luck.

+Koalas should not be picked up directly. They have claws, and a lot of them have chamydia. I mean if a character saves one in a fic that's fine I guess, but like... someone's getting antibiotics after that lmao. They are bigger than you think, dumber than you think, and sometimes they have to be chased across a highway with a windscreen cover bc they're not very bright and keep failing to climb metal fences, lmaoooo

+Towns of about 20-30k will have more shops (some franchise, some local owned), servos, fast food places and usually at least two to three shopping centres. Usually small level entertainments like a cinema, or local groups. +Towns with 10-20k, may have one or two major shopping centres, servos (tracks and RVs catered to), possibly a maccas, and the majority of stores will be local-owned. May have a cinema, but not one that has the newest releases. Local council may have more festivals, or 'that one thing they're known for'. +0-10k towns have a small local store, prices usually a bit higher. A servo, often with capacity for trucks. Local festivals. Characters can cop a bit of side-eye in these places, esp. if they don't fit the traditional ideas or are loud/violently american. +Grey nomads are a thing. Old people with fancy caravans who drive So Slow, and move all around aus. Several refused to stop during covid and it was like, WHO DO YOU THNK WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP ALIVE BY STOPPING YOU MOVING THROUGH MULTIPLE TOWNS???

+Some rural areas have legit red dirt, its always super cool to look at. Some places have light brown to dark brown, some have more chalky colours or yellowish dirt. Depends.

+Reminder: Australia has very specific gun laws, if your character/s have weapons then they may need to be sneaky or store them specifically in the vehicle. Although if you're talking about like, mad max type rules, then who cares. But if you have them get into a gun fight in a town, the police will come, etc.

Dunno, just ask if you have a question... just trying to think of random things to paint a picture if you have a character over here for a roadtrip or mission or whatever.

[noah-moth-cursed-chaos]

Museums and Abstract Paintings: A quinnby fic, chapter four

Quick disclaimer: Chris’ amnesia is not modeled after any real world type of amnesia, please don’t base any understanding of real world amnesia off of it. Tw for mentions of murder and implied mentions of murder, along with guilt and anxiety.

Trilby didn’t quite know how to take what he’d learned on his mission with Chris. He’d noticed the ministry was always short staffed. He hadn’t before recognized the constant influx of new faces, or how there was usually no explanation to what happened to the old ones. They were all just hear to get tossed into the fire in the fruitless attempt to protect a few civilians. There was a better chance of ending up dead or insane than making it through their job. Why did so many people stay? Did everyone come in the way he did? Wanted by the law and under threat of imprisonment if they didn’t work for the government? He sighed as he got up from his desk, his report wasn’t as detailed as his usual work but it was good enough. Time to turn it in.

Despite the small staff there was no lack of the normal office gossip in the ministry building, usually about the results of another agent’s mission. Trilby overheard a snippet of this as he walked past.

“Yeah, came in covered in blood, again, think most of it was his this time.”

“Good grief, Chris really is trying to cost the carpet cleaners a fortune isn’t he?”

“Is he okay?” Trilby had stopped, glancing at his two coworkers.

“Not sure, he’s in the infirmary. But he’s always bounced back before so I’m sure he’s doin’ fine.” One of them said.

“Starting to doubt he *can* die he’s done this so many times.” The other said.

Trilby changed his route after that, heading up to the floor the infirmary was on, the report could wait.

Chris hated when he had to get stitches. Oh well. He was alive, a bit worse for wear, but alive.

“In no point did it cross your mind to, I dunno, *run*? There’s no shame in not coming in here a bloody mess after every other job, y’know, plenty of agents manage it quite well.” Claire walked in, an expression of concern and exasperation on her face.

“Not demonslayers.” Chris said, “Besides, it’s not *that* bad.” He shrugged.

“You have too much pride in your mission record, you can fail one mission.” She shot at him.

Chris could’ve laughed, he couldn’t give less sh^ts about his mission record, “It isn’t about that. With some of the jobs other people here have, if they slip up someone else comes in and it’s fine, if I slip up people could get hurt, good people.”

“You already saved the world once y’know, it can be someone else’s problem now.” Claire sighed, “... but I guess I get where you’re coming from.”

“Saved the world?” The two turned to the doorway to see Trilby, who looked thoroughly confused with what he just heard.

“Yeah I saved the world from a henweigh.”

“.. a henweigh?” Trilby asked.

“Yeah.”

The thief paused, clearly having expected clarification, “And what’s a henweigh?”

“‘Bout ten pounds.” Chris smirked. Claire chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“You know one day someone’s gonna ask about it who’s already heard that joke.” She pointed out.

“So you didn’t actually save the world?” Trilby asked.

“Who knows.” Chris smirked at the other’s annoyance, “Maybe I did maybe I didn’t.”

“You can just say you don’t want to answer.”

“I know, but it’s funny to watch you get annoyed. I do think I’m gonna leave you in the dark though, mate.”

“Well, at least you’re alive to do that, heard you ruined the carpet coming in.” The ex thief leaned against the wall, Chris couldn’t help but laugh.

Trilby had tried to brush off what he heard in the infirmary, maybe they were just joking around. Really, Chris saving the world? Sounded about as likely as a beaver running for parliament. But he also barely really knew anything about Chris. Just that he took more dangerous assignments and was known for being reckless and unpredictable. But for some reason he couldn’t shake his intrigue. Couldn’t hurt to ask around.

Turns out it couldn’t help either. The answers people had just raised more questions. Chris stopped something horrible, nobody knew what it was or how he did it. Some people even suspected it was just some delusion, seeming as apparently he was supposed to be in a mental hospital during the time.

Trilby guessed he wasn’t quite as sneaky about his prying into the matter as he assumed, because Chris did find out eventually, and did confront him.

“Ya know it’s kinda rude to go asking about someone’s personal business behind their back.” Trilby couldn’t tell if the redheaded man who’d walked into his office was upset with him or not.

“... pardon?” The idea of being found out hadn’t crossed his mind, so he wasn’t quite sure what Chris could be talking about.

“You *really* wanna know what Claire was talking about in the infirmary don’t you?” The taller man raised an eyebrow. A younger Trilby likely would’ve turned an impressive shade of red at realizing he’d been caught, or would’ve tried to think up some half baked excuse as to why he’d been snooping. But now Trilby held his composure, despite the slight panic he felt inside.

“Oh, yes I have been looking into that.” Trilby said, turning his attention back to the file he was reading, “Is that a problem?”

There was a short pause before Chris spoke again, “... I guess I could tell you.” He said, “On two conditions.” Trilby couldn’t help but look up, intrigued to hear whatever conditions the taller man wanted met. “You meet me at the museum tonight at 4, and you don’t call me crazy.”

Chris was more than anxious as he waited outside the museum. Why the hell had he agreed to talk about it? Why here? Trilby would just think he was insane or he still belonged in the mental hospital or-

“Quinn?” He was snapped out of his thoughts, finding Trilby standing a small distance away, “Are we going in?”

“Oh uh-yeah.” Chris cleared his throat and got up, “.. how long have you been standing there, by the way?”

“Nearly ten minutes.” Oh. Oh sh^t. He just let him stand there for ten minutes. God Quinn you’re stupid.

“Sh^t, sorry mate.” Chris lead him inside. There weren’t many people here, and those that were seemed caught up enough in their own exploration of the building to pay no mind to the two men. Chris showed Trilby his favorite exhibits, talking about the history behind them and why they caught his eye. Trilby seemed more interested in Chris’ words than the museum itself, but his eyes lingered on more valuable exhibits, and Chris wondered if he was thinking of what it’d be like to have possession of them. Eventually they wondered to a part nobody was in at the moment.

“Why did you want to meet here?” Trilby asked, “Why not your apartment or my office or.. anywhere more secluded?”

“Uh, stupidly enough I figured it would be. Sorta a neutral ground. We’ve both made fools of ourself in front of each other in a place like this.” Chris explained. He walked over to a bench and sat down, “So how much did you find out eventually?”

“Not too much I think. Something happened when you were in a mental hospital, you stopped it somehow. Nobody knows what it was. Well, Claire might, but when I asked her she told me to mind my own business. Hey! Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-“ Chris managed to calm down, “You sounded so offended.” He said, “Well, I’m uh, not really sure if my version of the story is even the whole thing.” He said, yeah that’s a good way to start Chris, set yourself up as an unreliable narrator. God he probably already thinks you’re nuts.

“What do you mean?”

“I Uh, don’t remember anything really before uh. The night my parents died.” He began, “Sometimes things feel familiar or I think I *should* remember something but I just... don’t. That day I was heading to their home after a book signing. I was stressed and they’d left a voicemail asking me to come over and I just.. I thought maybe seeing them would make things a little better. But they were dead when I got there, murdered. They never found the killer.”

“Oh I’m... sorry.” Trilby didn’t expect the story to start off with dead parents, Chris figured. It sounded like a cliche. He sounded like a sh^tty comic book hero.

“It’s fine, nothing that can be done now.. I checked myself into a mental hospital, I’m pretty sure it was a last straw thing for me. I didn’t react the way I thought I should’ve. Figured I should get help.” He was pretty sure the hospital f^cked him up more, but he didn’t say that, “One day I woke up and there was just a guard, dead. I didn’t really know what to do, so I took his gun and went out to investigate. The place was crawling with zombies, which I know sounds insane but it’s true, I recognized some of ‘em, other patients, guards, they smelled like rotting flesh and I remember wondering if I breathed in too close if I’d catch it. At first I didn’t really think about what was going on, I mean what are you supposed to think? I had to get out. That’s what I thought. I had to get out and I had to find out what was causing this and I had to get rid of it because otherwise I’d die. It was kind of a blur until I got shot.” Chris glanced at Trilby, trying to read his face for a reaction to what he’d said so far, he couldn’t find one. The other agent was just.. listening. Chris paused before he continued, “I killed this big lard^rse looking thing and then one of those walking corpses shot me. I woke up in a graveyard, I was one of them but.. somehow I wasn’t. Gone. Not like they were. I went to my parents house to see if there was anything there that might help. I don’t really remember everything I grabbed. I fought my way through the rest of ‘em, I killed it, the evil, the thing that was doing it all, at least I think I did.. I remember the life leaving my body and thinking it was my time.”

“But you’re not dead. Or a zombie.” Trilby now sounded confused, Chris didn’t blame him, this was all so odd he could barely make sense of it half the time. He sometimes wondered if maybe he was just delusional.

“Yeah. That’s what doesn’t make sense. I died a zombie and woke up a human on the side of the road with a bunch of guns and the book of transformations. Everything was normal and nobody knew anything about a zombie apocalypse.” Chris said, “But there were. A lot of people dead. Really quick. A lot of them looked like the zombies I killed. Nobody could figure out what did that to them.”

“I actually remember hearing about that on the news.” Trilby admitted.

“.. sometimes I wonder if there could’ve been a better way. If I’d known I swear I would’ve found one but- but... yeah.” He sighed, why was he saying this? Why had he agreed to talk about it?

Chris looked so uneasy, Trilby wondered if his mind was taking him back to what he went through, or thought he went through. He wondered how to break the tense silence, and silently realized why Chris chose this place to meet. Last time both of them were in a museum was lighthearted and fun and honestly ridiculous. Despite how quickly Trilby left it behind and forgot about it, the few times he had thought about it it was never a *bad* memory. As absurd as what Chris was saying sounded to an observer, to the demonslayer this was a personal hell. A shroud of guilt and uncertainty that he couldn’t shake. “... I’m not going to say I know what that’s like, because I don’t, I don’t think it’s *possible* for someone else to go through something like that. But I do know what it’s like to only realize something you did after it was done.” He didn’t know why he said that, or why Chris talking about the people he’d killed stuck out so much to him.

“.. what do you mean? If you’re okay saying it?” Chris’ voice was soft, quiet.

“There Uh, was a mansion, some things happened... it was my body but.. it wasn’t *me*, I never would’ve done it if I had control.” Trilby elected to keep details sparse, he was sure trying to explain what happened at Defoe Manner wouldn’t do either of them any favors. Besides. Chris had brought him here to share something. This wasn’t show and tell, and he didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to upstage the other.

“.. I don’t think it really counts against you then, you didn’t want to do it.”

“I don’t think what you did is your fault either. You had no clue what would happen.” He paused before adding, “I won’t say a word of what you told me. I swear.”

Chris paused, before grinning a bit, “Hey, maybe this can be a thing, but, less morbid in the future. Museums could be like our Las Vegas.” He had effectively dispersed the tense mood between the two with that.

“What?” Trilby had to hold back a laugh, what the hell was the other saying?

“You know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? We can hang out in museums and do whatever we want and say whatever we want and when we leave we don’t tell anyone about it.” Trilby had to admit, it was a nice idea, if a bit silly. A place where both of them could be vulnerable yet also maintain complete privacy the moment they left.

“That sounds nice.” Trilby said, “Next time let’s go to an art museum. They’re less boring.”

[petri808]

This fic was created for the BKDK Unbirthday Party (Twitter) for prompt #G-0181: (Coffeeshop AU where Izuku accidentally sends katsuki (guest) to hospital after messing up the order submitted by Celestial)

Bakudeku one-shot. Coffee house AU

Ugh! Why’d the coffeehouse have to be so busy today of all days? It was as if the customers knew he’d stayed up late the night before and only managed three hours of sleep. Top it off with co-worker Denki calling out, and that left Izuku Midoriya alone with just one other employee who manned the food offerings.

Izuku wipes the sweat off his brow as he finishes one latte and side-eyes the clock in one swoop. Just one more hour to go until the next shift comes in. ‘Yosh! You can do this Izu! Then die at home curled in bed till the morning.’

He faces the next customer in line, screwing on the bright smile he was known for. “What can I get for you sir?”

Ruby eyes glare back at him. “Large mocha with a double shot of espresso.”

“One mocha double!” Izuku rings up the man’s total and quickly whips up the drink. His body was running on muscle memory at this point having made these drinks so many times before. A mocha was simple enough, chocolate, steamed milk, espresso, done. “Here you go sir.”

“Faster then, usual nerd.” The man grabs his drink and walks away to a nearby table.

‘Never fails,’ Izuku remarks as he moves onto the next customer. The blonde man loved making snide remarks, but he’s never said anything about it because he was also a regular. According to the other coffeehouse employees, blondie only came in when Izuku was working. ‘Probably likes picking on guys like me?’ And today was no different. He sat at a table reading a newspaper with his coffee, staying for thirty minutes or so. Then he repeats the processes the next day.

“Here you go ma’am, one cappuccino.”

Just as Izuku is handing off another drink, a sudden commotion stirs up in the dining area. He looks up to see blondie clutching his throat and surrounding customers panicking. “He can’t breathe!” Someone shouts. More words are thrown. Allergy, nuts, emergency! The baristas eyes blow wide open. Izuku screams at his coworker Uraraka to call for an ambulance and rushes over to the fallen man.

“H-Hold on mister!” Izuku does his best to calm the situation despite the white noise gathering in his eardrums. “Help is coming!”

“H-Haz—el... hazel—nut...” blondie gasps out. “Allerg...all—gic...”

Oh, fuck! Did he mix hazelnut instead of chocolate into the coffee?! “Oh my god,” the panic sets in. “Oh my god, I-I didn’t mean to! Please hold on sir!” If his stupid mistake kills this man, he’ll never forgive himself.

“F-Fucking nerd...”

Tears exploded from Izuku’s eyes, but all he could do was apologize over and over again as the man gasped and struggled to breathe. The blondes lips were taking on a bluish-purple color, hives breaking out along his skin, and his eyes rolling back.

“N-No, no stay awake sir! Stay awake!” He continues to shake the man by the shoulders as sirens resonate outside. Everything was a blur, just him and the customer with hushed conversations of concern all around them. “Please don’t die mister!”

Once the medics rush into the room, Izuku steps back to give them space. He knew procedures during an emergency was to clear the restaurant of customers and secure the cash register, but he couldn’t think straight. All he could do was watch helplessly as they load the man onto a gurney and whisk him away. Luckily, Uraraka had already taken control, phoned the manager, and set about following protocols.

After everything is secure, she tells him to go. “I’ll wait for the manager, so you go check on the customer and keep us informed.”

Like a mindless zombie, he manages a nod, clocks out, and sheds his apron.

“Hey, try not to be too hard on yourself. It was an honest mistake.”

“That might have killed a man.” More moisture pools in Izuku’s eyes. “I like him too... why’d it have to be him?”

Uraraka’s eyes soften. “Izu, just get going, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

The cab ride over to the hospital felt like a death march to meet his fate. All the life was sucked away, the scenery a kaleidoscope of muted colors as his mind raced through each moment of that afternoon. It was all his fault. Staying up late, being tired, rushing, rushing, rushing to keep up with the demands of a barista. Multi-tasking was supposed to be his forte, his pride in always getting the orders right and made quickly. But this time he’d screwed up in the worst way possible.

At the emergency room, the intake person waves him off to the side to wait. The doctors were still working to stabilize blondie, so all he could do was sit there and hope the man came out of the allergic shock. It was a nerve wracking wait that Izuku spent fighting against every horrible outcome. Can you go to jail for something like this? If the man dies, is that manslaughter?! Oh, who was he kidding. He deserved to be punished. Minimally his boss should fire him for being reckless. ‘Please don’t die...’

“Sir, you can go in now. He’s in room 14.” Technically, since he wasn’t family or even a friend, the hospital shouldn’t have let him visit. But because they had no other contacts for the man, and Izuku was clearly upset and shaken over the incident, they must have taken pity on him. Blondie was alive and unconscious. The medications were flushing his body of the toxins and countering the allergic reaction, but he would probably have to stay in the hospital overnight for observations.

When Izuku enters the small room, he sees the man tucked tightly under a blanket. His eyes are closed and IV lines trail to a machine that’s monitoring vital signs. The tears pool again at the horrible sight. Beeps from the machine echo in the silent room as constant reminders of the gravity of the situation.

“Mister...” he sits beside the man’s bed and takes a limp hand in his own. “I’m so sorry.” His head hangs down, “please wake up.”

A whole year had gone by since the first-time blondie had started frequenting the coffeehouse. The man always tipped and always made some kind of comment. Rarely any nice ones, but he’d grown used to it and over time, Izuku wasn’t sure when it’d started, but there came a point in time that he waited and looked forward to each visit.

It wasn’t uncommon to have cute customers come in that the baristas ogled over. Dating customers wasn’t forbidden, just frowned upon because they didn’t want drama to arise. So, Izuku kept his growing crush under wraps. Not that he felt he’d had a chance anyway. Mister blondie looked like a power player. Tall, trim, fit nicely in a tailored suit, while he was just a small, geeky guy with messy green hair and a face full of freckles. He didn’t even know if the man was gay. Oh, his co-workers thought he was. They were convinced his routine coffee trips were too conveniently made during Izuku’s shift alone.

All the tears and turmoil took its toll on the exhausted barista. The four hours of sleep catching up with Izuku before he even knows it. Hours pass by as fitful dreams torture him. Flashbacks of the coffeehouse, of happy times with his co-workers. There he is Izu, your knight in shining business suit! He turns around only to find a red-eyed dragon glaring down at him. A loud roar, screams echoing around them. Panic, fear sweeping through as customers and employees scramble away. The dragon roars, loud, reverberating chills to his core. Izuku’s scream catches in his throat as the beast picks him up with a clawed hand. It’s punishment time nerd!

“But I didn’t mean it!” Izuku whimpers, “please forgive me! I’d never want to hurt you!”

“Oi, if you’re gonna be noisy go away nerd.”

Awaken by the voice and a squeeze of his hand, the groggy barista raises his head off the bed. “M-mister?” The dream fades away to be replaced by a hospital room and redeyes narrowed at him. “Mister you’re back!” Moisture fills Izuku’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

“Yeah, yeah, didn’t know you were trying to get rid of me so badly.”

“What?! I-I didn’t— it was an accident mister, I swear!”

“Stop calling me mister. I got a name nerd, use it.”

“M-Mister Bakugou. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean for this to happen to you. I-It’s all my fault but you’re one of our best customers and we wouldn’t want to lose you. I’ll resign if it makes you feel better, just please do not punish the cafe.”

“Tch, if you leave, I won’t go back cause you’re the only reason I go there.”

“Huh? But why?”

“I changed my mind, you're not a nerd, you’re an idiot. Nerds are smart and you are completely clueless.” Bakugou groans and closes his eyes. “Or I’m the idiot for liking you. Either way, it was just an allergic reaction so don’t worry too m...” he feels the hand slip from his and quickly opens his eyes expecting to see the man leaving. “Midoriya?” But instead he sees one leg still on the chair and the rest of Izuku’s body collapsed on the ground. “Yup, I’m the idiot.”

Bakugou gets off his bed and despite being a little tired from the treatment, manages to pull the smaller male off the floor, rolling him onto the bed. He then slides back on and pulls him close, so he doesn’t fall off. These hospital beds weren’t built for two people, but he made it work. ‘This little mouse fits perfectly in my arms.’

He didn’t like admitting it, but that’s what attracted him to Izuku in the first place. Seeing Izuku’s bubbly personality at the coffeehouse. Always bright and cheerful despite his grumpy comments. The fact the man was hard working was a plus. And yes, because he was small and adorable.

As the heir and VP to a family corporation, Bakugou had to be tough and serious, but what he saw in Izuku was a chance for the opposite at least in his personal life. Frankly, the man reminded him of his father. His mom was clearly the one in control, but because his father was her balance who kept the woman grounded. Bakugou wanted that too. So far, his search had turned up nothing until the day he walked into the Plus Ultra Coffee & Tea.

“Am dreaming? Like...” Izuku mumbles. “Yes,” he curls his body in to hide his blushing face. “You, too.”

‘Does this guy always mumble in his sleep?’ Bakugou shakes Izuku gently. “Time to wake up mouse. We can’t stay in the emergency room forever.”

Izuku pops up. Emergency room?! His eyes flare wide. “W-Why?! Oh no, did I fall asleep?!” He looks around. ‘Why am I in the bed?!’ “Mister Bakugou! S-Sorry!” He scrambles off, “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, I put you there nerd. Now come on,” Bakugou holds out a hand, “I’ll take you home.”

[simple-heroics]

Snowy Nights in Tokyo

Part 1 of the “Let Me Take Care of You” mini-series Fuyumi Todoroki X fem!Reader (alternating between she/her and they/them pronouns) Word count: 11,919 someone stop me

Not to get too gay on main but @floof-reppu​ opened my eyes with their Fuyumi fic. Which inspired some assertive!Fuyumi. Everyone say thank you to her for helping me the NSFW scene. It’s my first one and tbh I still have a lot to learn in writing smut but here it is.

Me being me, I’ve also gone overboard and now have to make a mini-series for Fuyumi. I don’t even care that I won’t get a lot of notes for this. It just...feels like I need to write it, you know?

Anyway, this is dedicated to all the eldest daughters in the world who have had to take care of everybody but themselves. 

Content warning: Hyper vigilance, alcohol, references to drunk adults, references to high stress work environments, mild Quirk play (not previously negotiated), brief orgasm denial, possible naked book clubs, and VERY consensual sex between two sober adults. Emotional, intense topics brought up before, during, and after sex. It gets heavy, y’all. And a little awkward because surprise, surprise. Sex with a virtual stranger isn’t always all that sexy.

“To y/l/n - for kicking ass and finally taking a night off!” Your friend toasts you. Similar cheers echo her as shot glasses clink together.

Rolling your eyes, you throw your head back and take your shot. You are well-acquainted with burns but the shochu is an unfamiliar one in the back of your throat, making you cough. Your old schoolmates laugh, jokingly asking you when you last actually drank. A second later, you remember to laugh with them. The sound scratches itself out of your throat, hoarse from the recent burn of liquor. 

It feels...off.

Even if you weren’t on shift, even if you were having fun with friends and tossing back a couple of well-deserved drinks, you couldn’t help being hyper aware of everyone in the room: The group of salary men, somber when they first arrived, now laughing hysterically. Some girls’ night out, tipsy women giggling over cocktails. Random tourists in the back going nuts over sake bombs. You watch it all on the mirrored wall behind your friends. 

Eventually, your eyes wander to your unsmiling reflection next to your friends and realize… You look older than them. Your friends glow with this vibrancy, this carelessness, that made them feel younger to you. You listen to them talk - about classes, about apartment hunting in Tokyo and midnight convenience store runs, about dating. A whole different life than the one you live now. You’re the same age as them, have known some since high school, but you somehow feel ten years older. A part of you always feared your friend group growing apart as you all got older. But you never expected you would be the one to age so quickly ahead of them. There is too much weighing on your mind, too much you’d seen. 

You close your eyes and the images are vivid on the back of your eyelids. The memories sweep over you, drowning out the surrounding laughter and clinking drinks. Phantosmia clogs your senses like smoke. The taste of ash soots the back of your tongue.

“Seriously, though. It’s been forever!” one of them exclaims.

You jerk back to the present, blinking. 

“Does your new boss own you or something?”

You stiffen.

Another friend nudges her, shooting her a reproachful look. 

“I actually don’t see him that often,” you say, tone sharp. You don’t want to kill the mood, not when it’s been so long since you’d seen any of them, so you try to lighten it. “He’s busier than I am.”

There are few people you respect as much as your boss. It’s a privilege to work under someone with so much experience and skill. You worked your ass off for years before you became qualified to even apply, and that was only the beginning. If you couldn’t keep up with the team, you weren’t needed. Too many lives at stake. The only person held to higher standards were the ones your boss set for himself.

“Right, right,” says the friend who made the sarcastic joke. “And we’re grateful to him, really. But...”

“But we really do miss seeing you, y/l/n,” another chimes in, sincere. 

Your best friend intervenes. “Besides, he’s not all bad if he let you and that cute coworker of yours off for the night. Speaking of…”

Knowing what they’re getting at, you check your phone. “She says she got caught up in...something.”

“Really? Even the salary men over there are taking a break.”

Your table looks over to see the middle-aged men, completely sloshed, start their own improv karaoke. Your friends immediately crack up and imitate the off-key singing.

While you laugh with them, a part of you itches. You think of your coworker and the ongoing case.  It feels strange, almost wrong, to be joking with your old schoolmates and making fun of drunk salary men while they were risking their lives.

Maybe you are becoming something of a workaholic, you privately admit. But it’s good work, important work. You help so many people everyday. You love your job. 

But what’s the point of if you don’t have someone of your own to protect? a voice whispers, the same quiet voice that speaks up when you leave the bunks for your own lonely apartment. 

Now’s a good time for another drink.

Ignoring the teasing requests for another round from your friends (“C’mon, y/n, we know you’re getting paid more~!”), you slide through the small crowds until you find an open space at the bar. The bartender’s swamped with orders piling in from a sprawl of college boys. Some sports team, you think as you subconsciously size them up, too rowdy to be an academic club. Harmless but stupid.

Still, you watch them from the corner of your eye. 

“Could I get the matcha highball, please?” 

Her voice should have been too soft to hear in the loud bar but somehow it rings out clear as a bell. Everything slows down. Your eyes widen, snapping to look at her.

At about average height, she stands out among the bar patrons in her modest white blazer and high-waisted jeans. Her soft-looking hair is white like the snow outside, vermillion streaks ribboned throughout the light strands. She shifts from foot to foot, full hips swaying with the motion.

You stare.

“Oops~”

You snatch the college boy’s wrist before he could “spill” his drink after he purposely bumbled over. The boy (really, he could only be a year or two younger than you) jolts, gawking at you.

With a stony expression, you look him dead in the eye. “Careful.”

“Oh!” The woman startles at the sudden commotion. She turns and you still.

Her face is cuter than you’d imagined it: a pert nose, soft jawline, and pretty pink lips that look like they’re made for things like smiling and laughter and other nice, soft things. Large, bright eyes like a winter sky framed by glossy eyelashes blink at you behind glasses. 

The entire world around you just...freezes. The only conscious thought you can think is her, her, her, her. The inner mantra matches the tempo of your heartbeat.

“Uuh...hey?” the college boy speaks up. You realize that you haven’t let go of his wrist - oblivious to his attempts at pulling away from her vice grip. And that you’ve forgotten to breathe.

Feeling your face turn warmer than usual, you swiftly look away from her. It’s pure autopilot that allows you to say, “Be a little more careful. We don’t want any ‘accidents’.”

Driving your point home, you squeeze just a little - a silent show of your strength - before abruptly letting go. He stumbles back slightly, nearly bumping into another person, and stutters, “Y-yeah, whatever. Sorry.” 

Partially to avoid contact with pretty turquoise eyes and also to drive the intimidation home, you stare after him stoically until he disappears. 

“Thank you.” 

You take an extra second to breathe, willing the concerning heat in your face - and the rest of your body - to lower before you face her. 

Then she smiles at you.

The heat returns tenfold. Damn.

Light-headed, you quickly realize she isn’t merely cute. This stranger was so stunning that she knocked the air out of your lungs with just a look.

“No problem,” you croak.

The bartender saves your life. “Matcha highball!” 

You have exactly 5 seconds to breathe and get your shit together while she gets her drink. You flounder for something, anything, to say. You could bench press the bar counter itself but you can’t talk to a random (beautiful, alluring, breath-taking) woman at said bar counter. But would that be weird? Would that make you no better than the creep deliberately spilling drinks on people? 

Drink in hand, she turns back around and smiles again. It’s just as debilitating the second time around. Your knees weaken. “Thanks again.”

“You come here often?” you blurt out. And promptly wanted to blast yourself. 

You expect her to lift a dainty eyebrow and walk away, pretending your existence never happened, but instead she honestly answers your terrible cliche. “No, not really. I’m...usually at home around this time. But some work friends told me I couldn’t skip out on happy hour again.” 

Given her the simple sincerity of her answer and the way she completely missed the near “spill”, you deduce that she doesn’t come to bars often or at least doesn’t have much experience with the nightlife. You almost want to ask what a (beautiful, damn near ethereal) girl like her is doing in a place like this but thankfully quash the impulse.

“Me, too,” you say quickly, straight-faced. “Except they’re not so much work friends. More like actual friends. Not that friends from work can’t be actual friends but they’re my friends outside of work. Except I haven’t seen them in a while. Because I work. A lot. Not that I’m a workaholic or anything. It’s just an intense job. But I’m not intense. Well, kinda. Some people say I can be. Only because it’s important - the job, not me. Um. Not in like a self-deprecating way but like in a self-important way - which I’m not. Or I try not to be. I just care about people which is kinda a requirement for my job. Mostly. Or at least it should be. Some people, you know? And I’ll just stop talking now.”

It’s a wonder steam doesn’t hiss out of your ears with how hot your still stoic face is. You almost wish a villain would tear through the bar and knock you against the wall right. Now. Damn it, y/n.

Yet miracle of miracles, her polite smile slowly widens into an amused one - and one of those genuinely nice ones, without so much as a trace of mockery. “It’s like that with my job, too.”

How is she still here after that? And was she really...making conversation? 

You swallow and try not to seem overeager when you ask, “What do you do?”

Her face lights up. “I’m a teacher.” 

You can’t help the rare, almost timid smile that wobbles onto your lips. A teacher. Of course the angelic-looking woman is also a sweetheart with a sweet job. God, that sounds so precious. “Yeah? What grade?”

“Third.” Thinking about her class, her smile broadens. Your first impression was dead on: her face was made for smiles. 

“Third grade…” you repeat. Not just a teacher, an elementary school teacher. No wonder she seems so - wholesome? Patient? Kind? You damn near melt at the mental image of her working with little kids. 

She tilts her head, bangs moving with the cute motion. You try not to get distracted. “What about you?”

“I - “ You hesitate. It always feels weird when you tell people your vocation, almost like you were bragging. Besides that, another part of you - the increasingly paranoid, always on guard part - is cautious.  “I’m a civil servant. Public safety.”

She makes a small noise of interest. “That does sound intense.”

“It has its days. But your job is probably a lot harder.”

Something in her eyes flashes. “You think so?”

“Mm.” You nod. “Teachers have to take on a lot, right? You’re not just teaching kids - as if that’s not a big enough responsibility, teaching the next generation. You’re also their counselors, social workers, referees, lawyers, motivational coaches. Sometimes even surrogate parents.” 

Her expression softens into something more thoughtful. “Yeah… Yeah, sometimes.”

Whereas before you were hyper aware of everything, now your entire attention is narrowed in on her. It’s the first time in a long time you weren’t subconsciously counting every head in the room or checking for emergency exits. And she’s quiet, considering you. The two of you spend an unusually long time analyzing each other.

She licks her lips. You try to keep eye contact but can’t help yourself, gaze flickering at the deft movement.

“My name’s Todoroki. Todoroki Fuyumi.” 

You briefly linger on her familiar but common family name before zeroing in on her given name, Fuyumi. Fuyumi. As in winter beauty. You inwardly applaud whoever chose her name; they had the right idea.

You bow politely. “Nice to meet you, Todoroki-sensei.” 

She laughs a little, cheeks flushing pretty and pink. Her returning bow is shorter, a little awkward with a drink in her hand. “Please, you don’t have to call me sensei. I’m off the clock.”

“What should I call you then?”

“How about…” She seems to internally debate this. “Fuyumi? We’re about the same age and besides, hardly anybody calls me Todoroki outside of work.”

“Fuyumi-san…” Your lips naturally curl upward while saying her name.

Her eyes flicker away and back, catching your own. “And yours…?”

“Y/l/n y/n. But y/n is fine,” you say, an almost lie. No one but your closest and dearest call you by your given name. But you can make an exception for this stranger at the bar, for Fuyumi. A small, greedy part of you simply wants to hear your given name in her voice, see how those pretty lips move around it. And besides...

Something tells you it won’t be long before you can count her in the small, tight-knit circle anyway.

“Nice to meet you as well. Please take care of me.”

“Of course.” You pause, realizing what you just said. “Uh…

Her rosy cheeks brighten but she’s still smiling, still looking at you with those bright eyes. “Can I get you a drink, y/n-san?”

Yeah, your name definitely sounds good - really good - coming from her. Almost as good as her own name feels on your tongue.

“I’d love that, Fuyumi-san.”

Another kneecap-shattering smile is sent your way.

Cool it down, y/n. Cool it. Down. You tug on your collar to alleviate the growing heat under it.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Despite their earlier hassling over you not spending enough with them, your friends are more than okay with you (temporarily, you insisted, lying to them and yourself) ditching them to talk to someone new. They seem almost more excited than you are -- “almost” being the operative word. You feel like you’d been hit by someone’s electric Quirk, and the feeling persists the longer you talk to Fuyumi.

You find a little two-seat table near one of the windows of the bar. It offers you both an open view of Tokyo, bright and alive in the dark winter night, where flurries of snow roll through the neon-lit streets. A nice sight, you’re sure, but you’re all but ignorant to it in front of Fuyumi who sits across from you. White blazer draped over the back of her chair, she wears a form-fitting black turtleneck. A simple gold band glints on her wrist as she fiddles with her glass, tracing the rim with an elegant finger. You notice that despite having gotten her drink sooner, the ice cubes remain perfectly intact while your own drink is now a watered down version of your original order.

Not that either of you are really drinking, consumed in conversation - in learning each other. 

You learn that Fuyumi is 22 years old. Less than a year ago, she completed her bachelor’s in elementary education at Showa Women’s University. This is her first year teaching, and she loves it. She adores her class. You listen attentively as she talks with her hands and a brilliant smile, describing one shy student’s increasing confidence and another’s improved reading score. You learn that your earlier deduction was correct: she isn’t much of a nightlife person, preferring smaller get-togethers and home-cooked meals. You learn that she loves the weather outside, attention sometimes drifting to the falling snow outside. You learn that she loves to read but is weak to the same soap operas you are. You learn that she’s kind and smart and passionate.

And that if you look directly at her for too long, you forget how to breathe. 

Your conversation delves deeper. You both talk about your work, how a passion for helping people brought you to your chosen professions and how it's that very passion that sustains you through the hard parts. You talk about the constant paperwork, tracking every incident and expense and flickering concern, in order to protect the people you look after and yourselves. Fuyumi quietly expresses her frustrations with the Ministry of Education, the intense focus on academics and Quirk development, and how she can already see the pressure on her young (too young) students. Expression grave, you tell her about the moral concerns in your job, how people - people who have it hard, people who are just having a bad day - are practically dehumanized for their mistakes and how your colleagues treat even milder, non-violent cases like they’re scum of the earth. 

You and Fuyumi both lament over the bureaucracies that get in the way of actually doing your jobs. You talk about what it’s like to be in that weird “in-between” age, feeling too old around people your own age who don’t have the responsibilities which your jobs demand yet so young - naive - next to most of your colleagues. Compassion fatigue is common in both your fields, you find. It’s just as fulfilling as it is utterly exhausting, taking care of people. You talk about how tiring it is to work for the public, how underappreciated you sometimes feel, how helpless some cases are. 

“And then after all that, coming home at the end of the day can just be so…” Fuyumi cuts herself off, covering her mouth.

“Draining,” you finish, solemn.

She slowly lowers her hand, turquoise eyes wide and serious behind her glasses. “...yeah.”

You tap the edge of your cocktail glass, contemplative. You hesitate before saying, “Sometimes it’s hard seeing people I really care about…after taking care of people all day. I know my loved ones need me, too, and I want to be there for them. But sometimes it’s too much on top of everything else. Somedays...I feel too tired to care and caring’s the whole reason I even got into this job.”

You didn’t realize how true this was until you said it. It’s an ugly truth, hideous as it lingers in the air, but the truth nonetheless. You wonder if this is the real reason you don’t go out with your friends anymore, why you rarely saw your family as of late. 

You also wonder about the intent look Fuyumi wore. Intelligent blue eyes meet yours behind rectangular frames and you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t know how long you two stared at each other, only that you’d stopped breathing entirely.

Pop!

“Aaaayyy!” 

You shoot up and whip around, physically blocking Fuyumi - an automatic shield. Your hand goes to your waist and of course - of course you aren’t wearing your tactical belt. You’re off duty.

You start to activate your Quirk, let it hum unseen but ready under your hot skin. Off duty but still - .

But still, it was just the crazy salary men anyway. All drunk off their asses. One of them bought champagne, hence the pop. The man must be in his forties yet there he is, drinking straight from the bottle. The college athletes nearby start to chant and soon the rest of the bar is joining in. Somewhere, you hear your friends (the hooligans) cheering among them.

A gentle hand touches your arm, cool fingertips pressing against your wrist. Her touch sends off an immediate spark at first contact.

Electric Quirk?

Turning around, Fuyumi’s face is gentle but her eyes burn with an unexplained fervency. It kindles something in your stomach, makes you swallow. 

“Let’s go outside for a bit. Get you some fresh air.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

With the din of the bar behind you, you exhale and watch your breath condensate in the cold night air. It’s quieter here. Only a few other bar patrons mill about, one smoking several feet away and others waiting for a rideshare. The warmth from nearly activating your Quirk slowly seeps out enough to bring you back to a safer, more civilian-appropriate temperature but it’s still enough to keep you warm in your simple leather jacket.

You glance at Fuyumi. The falling snowflakes surround her like a vision, bright against the dark of turtleneck but blending in with her hair. “Aren’t you cold?”

She smiles, pushing her glasses up. “I’m fine.”

“Quirk thing?” you guess wryly, curious but also avoiding directly asking about her Quirk. It’s fine as a kid but as people get older, outright asking people about their Quirks is something of a social taboo. It would be more polite to ask what her bank statement said.

“Something like that. What about you? Are you cold or is it a ‘Quirk thing’?” When she speaks, you notice that her breath doesn’t come out in a misty cloud. Trained to automatically identify hints of what a person’s Quirk could be, you pick this out. Ice Quirk then, maybe snow? It suits the winter beauty.

The corner of your mouth twitches. You tuck your hands in your jacket pockets and lean against the building behind you.  “Something like that.”

You both stand in companionable silence. It’s easier to breathe outside with the city lights to distract you, though you sneak occasional glances at the way the blue and red neon lights reflect off Fuyumi’s snowy hair. The red streaks glow burgundy under the lighting.

“About what you said earlier…”

You say nothing now, simply pressing your lips together and staring obstinately at a distant flashing billboard: First a soda commercial, then some car insurance ad. You glance away when you see an ad for Burning Coffee and the familiar face with it.

“I get it.”

Schooling your expression into a neutral one, you look at her from the corner of your eyes. 

Fuyumi tucks a stark white strand behind her ear. You try not to get distracted by the way she bites her lip. “Even before I started this job, I…I have two younger brothers. I love them a lot but it's - I…. I’ve had to take care of them for a long time now.”

You mull over this for a moment. “Because someone had to, huh?”

“Someone has to.”

You nod slowly. “Caring for other people is why humans are here but it’s hard. There are limits.”

“Yeah, there are...” That intense light in her eyes appears again. “But someone has to care, even when it’s hard. Someone has to bring people together.”

What about your parents? You want to ask, want to know who left her alone with such a heavy responsibility when she was so young. Something dark simmers in your stomach at the thought of a small Fuyumi burdened with the care of two little brothers while a child herself. But you bite your tongue. 

Instead: “Who takes care of you?”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Who takes care of Todoroki Fuyumi?” 

“Who… I - “ Her face is pink from the cold, you vaguely notice. Which is odd, if your hunch about her Quirk is right. “I... My brother does. The older one, Natsuo. He…” 

You realize too late that you’re raising your eyebrows, high and skeptical in your otherwise neutral countenance. 

“People care,” she finishes lamely. At your unimpressed stare, she turns her head away. The gesture is as bashful as it is stubborn.

“...there’s a difference between caring for someone and taking care of them,” you say softly.

Lifting her face, Fuyumi meets your gaze. You step closer without breaking eye contact. Her lips part, and you’re undeniably staring now - more than staring. You’re leaning closer, into her space, and she tilts her head back.

“Te ni shitai hikari ga aru kiiiimiii wa ima yorube mo naku hitori de kiro niiii tatsu~”

You both jerk away.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi mutters, covering her mouth. You catch a pink flush before she turns her head away. 

Clearing your throat, you fumble for your cell. “No, my bad. Uuuh, hold on. Lemme just turn it off.”

Even saying that, you habitually check the caller ID and immediately turn serious. You look at her apologetically. “It’s work.”

Still pink-faced and cute, Fuyumi waves a hand. “It’s fine!”

“One sec…” Praying it’s not an emergency but prepared nonetheless, you answer brusquely, “Talk to me.”

“Woah, there, y/l/n. No need to sound so serious. You’re off the clock, remember?”

“Are you?” you retort.

“Yeah, just got off and on my way. Your friends still there or you guys get bored waiting for me? ‘Cause I also know this one place in Shinjuku with some cute girls who maaay bat for our team if yanno what I - “

You nearly choke on your own spit. “Uuh, no. No, that’s not necessary.”

“Y/l/n, you need to get laid. Like, I’m pretty sure boss man gets more than you and - “

“Hey!” You cover the receiver, as though fearful Fuyumi would hear about your sad (lack of a) sex life. Also you never want to hear anyone talk about your boss like that. It’s worse than if someone were to bring up your father in that way. You shudder at the thought. “I do not want to think about that. Do not put those images in my head!”

Your coworker cackles. “Then get out and get some! Pretty sure with the overtime you pull, you got some cobwebs down there.”

“I will report you to HR,” you warn, too low for Fuyumi to hear.

“See? This is why he hired you. He needed a bigger wet blanket than him in the office to make him look chill in comparison.”

Ha. Your boss. Chill. Even you can privately admit that’s a good one.

“Then he owes me a raise,” you grumble. After some thought, you also add, “...besides, Shinjuku isn’t necessary.”

“Wait. You met somebody?!”

Hyper aware of a pair of pretty blues on you, you choose your words carefully. “We just received word from Team Lambda that things were...unexpectedly successful.”

“SHIT IS SHE WITH YOU NOW! Why are you still talking to me?!”

“Do you still require back up at the agreed location?”

“Pffft. Y/l/n, you dork. Nah, I’m good. I’ll swing by for a drink and say hi to your cute friend but you do who you gotta do.”

You clear your throat. “I’ll do my best.”

“Damn right you will. With how diligent you are, you’re bound to be a good lay.”

“I do have HR’s number saved on my phone,” you deadpan.

“Of course you do, you stick-in-the-mud. Now get off the phone and talk to your girl!”

Even when she abruptly hangs up on you, you can’t help the sudden grin while you silence your cell. Your girl.

That has a nice ring to it.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Fuyumi asks, tipping her head. She looks at you with such concern your heart flutters. “You sounded real serious.”

Your voice comes out half-strangled and high-pitched. “Fine. Ahem. Everything’s fine. My coworker was just checking in. We were supposed to meet up and, uh…”

“Oh.”  Fuyumi lowers her eyes. She adjusts her purse over a dainty shoulder. “My coworkers are probably waiting for me, too. We should…”

No!

“Something came up,” you say quickly.

She pauses mid-step.

“Do you want another drink?”

 “I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she admits.

 “Oh…” You visibly deflate despite your attempts at keeping up a nonchalant demeanor. “I...I understand.”

 “...didn’t you come here with your friends?”

 “I met someone,” you say bluntly. You pin her with a look, one that sears through Fuyumi and says ‘you’. “They’ll understand.”

 That pretty blush returns tenfold, rising in her cheeks and spreading all the way down her neck. You want nothing more than to discover where else it goes. “Oh.”

 You tuck your hands in your pocket to hide how they shake, try to relax your body but even you can feel the intensity in your own gaze. “And your coworkers?”

 “They’ll understand, too…” She fiddles with her purse’s strap, shifts her weight from foot to foot. Again, her hips sway with the motion and you start to wonder if there’s anything Fuyumi could do that wouldn’t attract you. “But I still think I’m ready to leave this bar.”

 “Just this bar?” You peer at her from under your eyelashes.

 If just looking at her wrecks your breathing, the way she bites her bottom lip will be your absolute end. “Just this bar,” she confirms quietly. 

 “Hm.” You step forward, edging closer but just shy of her personal space - maintaining a respectful distance but near enough to feel the energy passing between you two, the intense and immediate chemistry. It’s strange and unfamiliar and gravitational. 

 Fuyumi stands completely still but she’s tighter, tenser, with a white-knuckled grip on her bag and fair skin brightening to new shades of red. There’s a light in her eyes that keeps drawing you in, like a moth to a blue flame. They dart heatedly between your own darkening gaze and your mouth.

 “Do you have plans for the rest of your night, Fuyumi-san?” Maybe at least a dinner, you hope, somewhere warm and cozy and private. Something you think she would like.

 She shakes her head, blushing yet unhesitant. 

 You swear you can feel your own heartbeat in your throat. “Any younger brothers to take care of tonight?”

 After some deliberation, she says, “They’re 19 and 15. I think they’ll survive one night without me.”

 “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

 “Yeah,” she says, just as quiet, and she just...looks at you. Really looks at you.

 Then she steps closer and suddenly she’s right in front of you. A cloud of vanilla-and-jasmine fragrance surrounds you. You do nothing, say nothing, simply let her come to you. You watch her with a deliberately calm mien. Fuyumi lifts up a delicate hand and brushes through your hair. A whirl of snowflakes scatters around you.

She sees you shiver and whispers, “You’re going to catch a cold out here.”

Her hand lingers in your hair. The touch is light but it’s like being connected to a live wire. A second more passes. Then her hand flutters back to her side. 

“Then I guess we should find some place warmer.” 

“Y/n-san…” 

“Let me…” Let me call you a rideshare. Let me walk you home. Let me take you home. Please. Just let me stay with you a little longer. You swallow all those other words, better words, and come out with, “Let me take care of you.”

Those impossible blue eyes widen. “What?”

Face much warmer than you’re used to off-duty and braver in ways you’ve never had to be before, you ask her softly, near pleading, “Can I take care of you tonight, Fuyumi-san?”

Fuyumi’s lips part. Then slowly, shyly, they curl into that heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “Okay.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

You nearly trip over a chair on your way over to your friends’ table. 

“Aaww, did you strike out?” your best friend teases you.

You let out a shaky laugh, pushing your hair back. “Actually, I came to say bye real quick.”

This earns you a chorus of jeers and whistles around the table. 

“That’s my teammate!” a familiar voice crows behind you. You catch tendrils of green flames from the corner of your eye before you see her.

“Kamiji!” 

Kamiji moves easily between the tables, as graceful as a cat and grinning like one, too. “What are you still doing here?” she teases while pulling you into a side hug. “Didn’t I tell you to clean out some cobwebs?”

You add a little heat to your embrace - enough that would have made anyone else flinch away but with Kamiji, with anyone in the Flaming Sidekicks, it’s more like a playful punch. “I’m calling HR on Monday.”

“They’ll be the only ones you’ll be calling if you don’t catch up with your girl,” Kamiji retorts, nudging you away with a discreet flicker of flame at the tip of her finger.

Your girl.

“Look at that grin! Just an hour ago, she was moping over her shots,” a friend teases.

“I can count all the times she’s smiled at work on one hand and still have fingers left over,” Kamiji says, joining the min roast session. Her eyes gleam. “Introduce me to her later, yeah?”

“We’ll see,” you say non-committedly.

“Pfff - get outta here. Some people need a drink.”

“I gotcha,” your best friend volunteers. You notice them already making eyes at Kamiji and silently congratulate yourself on introducing them.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you say with a quick wave.

“How much later?” a friend snarks.

“Have fun!” another offers, waggling their eyebrows.

“Be safe,” one teases, a joke coming from a civilian.

“For real,” Kamiji adds. From her, regardless of her playful demeanor, it’s definitely not a joke. “Call me tomorrow morning. Or afternoon. Whenever you wake up.” 

“Sure.” 

It’s a good night, you think as you wander back to the entrance to meet Fuyumi. You have a feeling it’s about to get better.

So caught up in her, you miss your best friend and Kamiji lingering on their way to the bar. Both are curious to see who could possibly catch their overly serious workaholic of a friend’s attention. They exchange sneaky grins, instant co-conspirators, as they shadow you.

“Y/l/n’s usually the first to pick up when we’re being watched on stakeouts,” Kamiji confides in your friend. “Either she’s had too much to drink or this girl is something.”

They snort. “A couple of us literally walked by their table five times and she didn’t so much as glance our way. You literally came by the one time this entire evening where she’s taken her eyes off her.”

Kamiji’s sharp canines glint in her grin. “Oh, really~?”

She peers over at the door to take a look at your mystery girl and...stops. Her grin drops like a stone.

“Oh, shit.”

Your friend quirks a brow. “What?”

“Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit,” Kamii mutters. “Y/L/N! HEY, Y/L/N!” 

The bar’s noise drowns her out.

“Fuck.” Kamiji whips out her cell and dials your number. When she goes straight to voicemail, she tries again. And again. She sends you a barrage of texts.

“What’s wrong?” your friend asks. “Do you know her?”

There’s no humor in Kamiji’s caustic laugh. “Pretty much everybody at the agency knows her - except our newbie apparently.”

“At the agency? Is she a villain?”

“Worse.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

On the way to your apartment, you check and double check if this is what Fuyumi wants. She laughs a little as she reassures you. You insist that she texts someone, anyone, and give her your address ahead of time. You even ask her to sing the English alphabet backwards to make sure it’s not alcohol’s decision rather than her own certain and sober one. Between your protectiveness against...well, in this case, yourself and her laughter, you two trade giddy glances and secret smiles throughout the entire drive. 

You’ve never seen anyone who looks so...pretty in the city lights. You’d long lost any awe over Tokyo’s shining lights but find yourself gaining a new appreciation for them. They look good on her, reflecting off her hair and fair skin and glasses. It’s like Fuyumi is made of light and glass and something so bright that comes from within you can’t even fully fathom it.

And holy hell, she agreed to come to your apartment. Is this actually happening?

Your fingers tap a nervous rhythm in the middle seat. Suddenly, a cold hand slips over them - halting them. You jump, glancing over. She smiles and squeezes your hand, reassuring you even with that blush and her own fidgeting. 

You’re the one who's supposed to be taken care of right now, you think.

But now you’re so focused on leveling your breathing you can’t risk looking at her. You do, however, lace your fingers through hers. 

And it just fits. 

When you arrive at your place and slide out of the car, you’re the one to reattach your hands while you jostle for key with your other hand. You’re suddenly entirely too grateful to have a first floor apartment.

Reality socks you in the stomach when you’re inside. With Fuyumi. 

It’s strange...seeing her in your apartment. You can’t remember the last time you had anyone else in your home, hardly in it yourself between patrols and paperwork and stakeouts. But having Fuyumi here? With you? Barely visible in the dim light of your entryway, hair bright like a halo and face barely visible?

It’s like a dream.

But it’s not. Your heart wouldn’t be hammering like this if this were a dream. 

Fuyumi still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything, the situation seems to dawn on her, too, going by how she clutches it. You both stand together in the dimly lit genkan, quiet, a little awkward. But the small space between you is purely electric.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Fuyumi admits quietly.

“Me, neither…”

“Work?” she guesses.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You?”

“School. Then work.”

You force a smile through your nerves. “And taking care of other people?”

Her words are hushed. “Yeah… That, too.”

“Guess we both missed out on the crazy party phase other people our age got,” you say dryly.

That earns you a soft laugh. “I guess so. Never looked all that great anyway.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m not too upset that I missed out on all my friends’ college hangovers. But when was the last time you got to just...let go? Not care what anyone thinks or says?” 

You yourself could at least count some fond high school memories.

Fuyumi, however… 

She says nothing, bangs covering her eyes. 

Tonight, you decide. Tonight is her night. 

And suddenly, something clicks into place. You’re not nervous anymore.

“In that case...” Hands still connected, you step out of the genkan. “I think it’s about time someone took care of you.”

Her eyebrows furrow in concern. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But… Aren’t you tired from caring so much?”

I don’t think I could ever get tired of caring for you.

Gently, you bring your intertwined hands to your mouth and smooth light, unhurried kisses over her fingers. Your lips trail along her knuckles until they press against her wrist and linger there over her pulse. You look at her through hooded eyes. Her breath catches. 

Then you drop your hands.

“Trust me,” you say, your voice low in your own ears. “This is as much for me as it is for you. But only if you want it.”

There’s an unspoken question there.

Fuyumi meets your gaze directly, heat rising in her eyes, almost like blue fire in how they scorch you with a single look. You start to rethink your original guess about her Quirk.

“I want it.” 

You. I want you.

Sucking in a long, slow breath, you smile at her. “...then come get it, Fuyumi-san.” 

She stumbles forward, as though in a trance. Shaky hands land on your strong shoulders, seeking stability, and she steps into you. Your chests brush against each other, and you’re submerged in her creamy vanilla and jasmine perfume. That gravitational pull tugs at you but you stop yourself just shy of her lips.

Hers. This is her night, her decision.

Her cool breath fans across your lips. Starlit eyes peer into your darkening ones.

You wait.

“May I?” The words vibrate against your mouth. 

Your heart melts.

“Of course.”

Fuyumi closes that last centimeter of distance and presses her trembling lip to yours. She tilts her head, mindful of her glasses. The kiss is slow and careful, closed mouth, testing the boundaries. Even with your verbal consent, it asks, Is this okay? You follow her lead, tenderly coaxing her lips along your own. Warm and welcoming and reassuring her yes, yes, yes. This is okay. This is perfectly okay. 

I want you, too. 

Her hands tighten on your shoulders. Yours slide into her feather-soft hair. You tug out the ponytail holder and delve your fingers in the tresses. You pull away, separating you with a soft pop, and watch the silky strands float to her shoulders.

Breathing hard, Fuyumi is still clutching your shoulders. Her face is flushed, roses blooming in her cheeks, and her pupils are blown wide. 

“Whoever named you had the right idea,” you mutter, completely dazed.

You don’t get a chance to recover.

Fuyumi surges forward, grabbing your face, and pulls you to her. You slant your head just in time to meet her kiss, eyes fluttering shut. Her lips are soft, soft yet pleasantly chilled. And they move fervently along yours. Currents spark from her to you, tingling down your spine and electrifying your senses. You meet her passion with your own, shaky and reverent hands moving up to grip her blazer. 

Without breaking the kiss, she steps out of the genkan and strides forward - backing you into your own apartment. Her hands slide from your cheeks and into your hair, tugging. You gasp, startled, and Fuyumi’s tongue is like ice in the warm cavern in your mouth. You groan. She uses her grip on your hair to angle you just so, completely taking over the kiss, and you let her. You want her to.

You move your hands up her back, into her hair - earning you another tug in reprimand - and down again until they find her full hips. You squeeze, enjoying the plush give under your fingers. Fuyumi hums, low and appreciative. You smooth your hands over her curves, slipping your thumbs under the shirt and rubbing circles against her hip bones. 

Fuyumi breaks the kiss just long enough to slide off her blazer, lets it fall to the floor with a muffled foomp and your leather jacket joins it soon after. Then she’s on you again, looping her arms around your shoulders. Pressing close, closer, her full breasts soft against yours. Her lofty exhale condensates in your warm apartment, chilling your lips. Your eyes flutter.

Gripping her hips, you kiss her - kiss her like you wanted to from the moment she first smiled at you. You kiss her like you want to consume her. And Fuyumi meets you, passion for passion, ice for fire. 

You slide your hands further up her turtleneck and skim along cool, soft skin with heated palms. Fuyumi arches, making soft appreciative noises that falter into disappointment when you remove your hands. Next you wind your arms around to fully embrace her, crushing her to you. Fuyumi moans. 

You pull back enough to land several pecks on her smiling lips, making her giggle, and then shower the rest of her face in kisses. Your eager mouth finds her swan-like neck and becomes more sensual, mouthing along the arch. Kissing and sucking and just breathing her in. Fuyumi leans her head back to accept your affections in full.  

“You’re so warm,” she sighs happily. 

Your brain dies and comes back to life. And then you promptly realize the full implication of her words.

Panting, you pull away. You’re still foggy and lost  and looking at Fuyumi, Fuyumi with that glazed over expression and slightly parted lips, certainly does help. But you have to check yourself - make sure you’re still in control.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Just wanted to look at you,” you say. Not a complete, as your gaze sears up and down her body.

“Don’t just look then.” Fuyumi tugs you forward by your shirt. You lean back at the last moment and grin at the frustrated sound she makes in the back of her throat.

“Y/n-san…” 

You kiss her, a quick peck, and dart away before she has the chance to deepen it.

Her nose scrunches up. You kiss that, too. She chases after your lips but you dodge, her lips landing on your cheek instead. You snicker.

“Y/n-san.” There’s a warning in her tone. The sternness in it, the sudden assertiveness, makes you light-headed and eager to obey.

Damn. You make a mental note to explore this later.

“Just wanted to be extra sure this is what you want,” you say breathlessly.

“I told you that I wa - “

You catch her open mouth in yours, kissing her longer, deeper. Your lips smolder against hers. Her responding hum shoots straight to your core. 

When you go to move away again, Fuyumi snares your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls you back in. A hand on your waist slips under your shirt, teasing the skin it finds there. She palms the small of your back. Pushes you closer. You squirm at the unexpected cold, inadvertently pushing yourself closer. She uses this to pull you into her, hands skating up your ribs, palms freezing, touch burning. The air grows hot and humid, a perfect clash between your Quirks, and you’re shivering from something far beyond temperature, beyond arousal. 

“Oh, god…” you eke out as she sucks on the corner of your jaw. You’re too far gone to process it, lost in a strange space between too much and not enough.

It’s only Fuyumi’s mercy that allows you to catch your breath. She pulls back, leaving our lips kiss-swollen and red and panting. You gawk at her.

Her demure smile isn’t kind; it’s the calm before a storm. “Where’s the bedroom?”

A small, pitiful sound - a whimper - escapes you.

This woman is going to be the death of you.

Wordlessly, you grip her thick thighs and lift her up enough to wrap her legs around your waist. Fuyumi yelps. She winds her arms around your shoulders, beaming down at you. You grin up at her adoringly, even when she laughs at you when you bump into your own furniture in your own damn apartment.

“I can’t remember the last time anyone’s carried me,” she says.

Nudging your door open with your foot, you hum thoughtfully. “I can’t remember the last time I had a pretty girl in my arms.”

Fuyumi hides her burning face in your neck. “...you, too.”

“Mm?” 

“You’re pretty, too,” she murmurs, burrowing in your shoulder. She nestles into you endearingly. “Prettier.”

You press a kiss to the side of her head, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her conditioner. You whisper, “Don’t get in a fight over who’s prettier with me, Fuyumi-san. You’d lose.”

Then you promptly drop her on your bed.

Yelping, Fuyumi bounces on the mattress. She’s still smiling and giggling even when she tries to glare at you. “No, I wouldn’t,” she protests.

Amused, you place one knee on the bed. “Yes. You would.”

“No. I wouldn’t. Have you seen yourself?”

“Occasionally,” you drawl, raising your other knee to fully kneel in front of Fuyumi. 

“But you’re so fit and strong and - “ She bites her lip again, face tinted pink. “You’re gorgeous.”

You take your sweet, sweet time looking Fuyumi up and down. Body half sprawled across your bed, her beautiful hair fans out like a halo. The hem of her shirt is partially pushed up, revealing her pale stomach where a diamond navel piercing gleam and the full flare of her waist.

“I don’t compare,” you say simply, bending down to crawl over to her.

Fuyumi rises up on your elbows to meet you halfway. You straddle her hips, having to stretch out your thighs to fully seat yourself over them. Damn. They’re so solid and soft underneath you. You never want to sit anywhere else again.

Fuyumi’s breath hitches, staring up at you as though entranced. Her hands slip over your thighs. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

“I think you,” you carefully slide off her frames, removing the one thing between you and the intensity of her gaze, “need new glasses, Fuyumi-san.”

You fold up her glasses and lean over to put them safely on your side table. The movement moves your hips, unintentionally grinding. The small friction makes you release a stuttery breath.

Hearing it, her own breathing starts to get heavier. Fuyumi tightens her grip on your thighs and pushes back. You groan, long and low in your throat. You start a slow rocking motion, core grinding down. Fuyumi’s hips meet you movement for movement. Her hooded gaze flares.

You place your hands on top of hers, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes. Taking all of her in hungrily. “Fuyumi-san, when you say you haven’t done this before…”

“I mean going home with someone I just met,” she murmurs, caught in the rocking motion. “This isn’t - it won’t be my first time.”

Her earlier ferocity - and the current undulations of her hips under yours - suggested as much, but it’s always good to check. 

You brush your fingers over her slim wrists and up her arms and down again. Feather light. Your touch ghosts over her exposed stomach and then up her lower ribs, pressing fully against her velvet skin. 

Fuyumi arches her back, eyelashes fluttering. Her lips quiver. 

She’s already starting to sweat, slick under your palms. You slide your hands back down and curve over her waist, kneading the bit of fat there. Her fair skin pinkens where you touch her. A small, desperate sound escapes her. 

“God, I love the sound of your voice,” you rasp, grinding harder. “From the moment I first I heard it.”

She laughs a little. “I’m surprised you even heard it. The bar was so loud.”

Rather than respond, you scoot down her thighs in order to bend down and nip a hipbone.

“Y/n-san.”

You groan at the sound of your name before trailing your lips from one hip to the other, your tongue briefly circling around her piercing. Throughout your loving ministrations, you push your hands further up her shirt to her heavy breasts and squeeze softly. Fuyumi arches her back, crying out. 

Eventually, you push her turtleneck up. Fuyumi sits up and you help pull it over her head. Your mouth dries.

Her beautiful hair is a beautiful mess, red tangled in white. Darkened blue eyes stare at you hazily. You finally learn that her flush extends from her round cheeks to her sternum, rosey and warm in the ivory of her skin. Her simple black bra barely restrains her heaving breasts. She’s all curves and supple skin and vanilla-and-jasmine perfume and - 

“How did I get so lucky as to bring you home with me tonight?”

In answer, Fuyumi kisses you. Her insistent lips move from your needy mouth to your neck. You gasp when she finds the sensitive place behind your ear. Her chilled breath makes you tremble. 

“How did I get so lucky as to end up in your bed?” she croons. Then she sucks your earlobe into her frigid mouth.

“Ah!”

She wrangles your shirt off and sends her mouth down the valley of your breasts. You wrap your legs around her waist, squeezing her between your thighs and pressing her into your aching core. Your head lolls, hair falling back. Your breathing is heavy under her. Her fingers tangle with the back of your bra and unclip it with ease. 

Peppering your shoulders with chilled kisses as she slides the straps over them, Fuyumi tosses your bra over the side of the bed and pulls back to admire. You shiver at the dark, glassy look in her eyes. And then put up absolutely no resistance when she pushes you down on the bed.

Freezing hands caress your breasts, making you hiss and raise your back, as they come in contact with your sultry body.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi says, not sounding the least bit put out. “Quirk thing.”

Your chest heaves. “S’fine. Do whatever. Just - just keep touching me.”

Her eyelids lowered, and that demure smile returns. “That’s not a very polite way to ask for what you want, y/n-san.”

You’re not a proud person, and you know what you want. “Please, Fuyumi-san, please keep touching me - aah!”

Fuyumi leans down to circle a nipple with her ice-like tongue, sucking it in with a lewd suctiony sound. Glacial fingers pinch the other. Her other hand trails down, breezing across your ribs, until they find the hem of your pants and toying with the zipper. You pant, grasping at her shoulders for purchase. Forgoing the zipper entirely, Fuyumi cups you through your jeans - fingers rubbing tantalizing circles against your heat. 

“Fuyumi-san!” you whine.

“Such pretty noises…” Fuyumi murmurs against your breast. “And you looked so stoic and serious at the bar. But look at you.”

Fuyumi grinds the heel of her hand into you. You squirm helplessly underneath her wintery body. It feels so good but so intense. You wonder if you’d somehow managed to lure a yuki-onna to your bed.

“You just fall apart at the simplest of touches.” She bends her head over your other breast, biting down gently. She continues to palm at your throbbing core.

You buck your hips, desperate for more friction. “Please…”

Then, in retribution for your earlier teasing, she removes her hand out from between your trembling thighs. You whine. Making direct eye contact with you, Fuyumi pulls back with your nipple still pinched between her teeth. Only after you let loose a satisfactory whimper does she release it. Your other nipple, however, she continues to roll leisurely between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Apologies. You seemed to like how assertive I was earlier. Was I mistaken?”

You don’t deny it. Instead, you say weakly, “Didn’t expect this from an elementary school teacher.”

Smiling amusedly, Fuyumi nuzzles into your too-warm cheek. “I can’t be nice, patient sensei all the time.”

“So you like to get back some control in the bedroom,” you say dryly.

Fuyumi’s answer is scraping her teeth down your throat and sucking a mark into your collarbone. Cold hands seize your breasts, squeezing. A knee slips between your thighs to push against you. You cry out.

“Based on that lovely reponse…” Fuyumi croons, running her hands up and down your sides, “and your clear deflection from my original statement, you like to let go of control in the bedroom. It’s a release.”

Somewhere in the haze of your lust, you catch on. You raise an eyebrow.

She sighs. “Let me guess: high stakes civil service job, demanding work environment, lots of pressure, extremely stressful. You have to be in complete control at all times on the job, always alert, and need your phone on even after hours just in case.”

“...maybe.” She has a scarily clear cut understanding of your “civil service job”, even without the full details such as what exactly it is. 

She smiles understandingly, though there’s a strange twist to it. “I noticed how..alert you were at the bar. Even though you came with friends. You really don’t let yourself relax, do you?”

You turn your head, averting your eyes. 

Gentle fingers pinch your chin and bring them back to meet Fuyumi’s compassionate gaze. “It’s okay, y/n-san,” she soothes. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place - “

“No, you’re right,” you cut her off, voice hoarse. “I - it’s just I… I love my job.”

“I know,” she murmurs, caressing the side of your face. 

Your draw in a breath. “I’m lucky to have it. Especially being a woman. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a little kid. And it - I get to help so many people. Every day. I feel like I make a real difference, you know? But it’s not easy.”

Fuyumi strokes your hair. “When was the last time you took some time off?”

You scoff, covering your eyes with a forearm. “I just transferred to a new agency a little while ago. I still have a lot to prove.”

This makes Fuyumi frown. “They chose to hire you. You shouldn’t have to prove anything!”

“Fuyumi-san,” you drawl, “you’re taking care of other people again. Didn’t I say it's your turn to be taken care of tonight?”

“Is you taking care of me just ‘helping people’ like you do everyday?” she asks.

“No. Is you asking about my work life and the personal toll it has just another way of asserting control?” you deadpan.

Fuyumi sputters, turning red. “N-no! And how’s wanting to help others ‘control’?”

“‘Help is the sunny side of control,’” you quote, bone dry.

Semi-amused, you watch realization dawn across Fuyumi’s face. “That’s - I never thought about it that way. That’s...quite insightful. Did you come up with that? Or is that from somewhere?”

“Anne Lammottt,” you say dryly. “She wrote this sorta half self-help, half memoir on hope and how to find it when things are at their bleakest. My therapist recommended it. I’ll lend you my copy.”

The bed creaks as Fuyumi sits up, straddling you. Poker faced, you make a herculean effort to keep your gaze directly on her face rather than stray to...well, the gorgeous half-naked body on top of you.

“You have a therapist?”

“High stakes job with heaps of pressure and stress, remember?” you quip. “It would be irresponsible of me not to take care of my mental health. Like skipping a dental cleaning or a vaccination.”

“Yeah…” Again, Fuyumi has that intent, searching look in her eyes. The same one she gave you after admitting how tired you were, how draining caring can be. Without her glasses, it’s only about 100 times more intense. 

And there you are, titties out, laid out like a spread eagle underneath Fuyumi like you’re her personal throne. Not a bad position to be in, of course, but a little odd when her face looks like she’s trying to solve the world’s hardest math problem and not contorted in the throes of passion as gifted by yours truly. You wait it out, though. It seems important.

It’s a nice view anyway.

Finally: “You’re really something, y/l/n y/n.”

You smile up at her lazily. “Thanks. You’re something special yourself, Todoroki Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi smiles down at you like a real life Madonna icon. You’re suddenly reminded of your recently developed Fuyumi-related asthma. And how her luscious thighs are actually a little warm after hugging your body for so long.

You drum your fingers against them, enjoying the feel even through her jeans. “Hey, Fuyumi-san?”

“Mm?”

“How did we go from the hottest foreplay of my life to talking about our mutual tendencies for compulsive caretaking?”

Fuyumi slaps her hands over her reddening cheeks and groans. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, y/n-san!”

“It’s cool,” you say, nonchalant. “We can do a naked book club instead, if you like. Anything you wanna recommend?”

“No! No naked book club - well, maybe later. Wait!” She drags her hands down her face and half-heartedly glowers down at you. Somehow, that stern look makes you throb. “You’re making fun of me.”

“A little,” you admit. You stroke her thighs soothingly. “But I’m also a little serious. If you’d rather do something else, that’s okay. I think I have some puzzles somewhere.“

Snorting, Fuyumi shakes her head. “I want to keep going. I do, I really do. But if I made it too weird or - “

“Great. I want to, too,” you state bluntly. 

“I didn’t make it weird?”

“Sex is weird sometimes. Besides….” You look up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, feeling your desire thrum back to life at her bold reassertion. Your voice turns smokey when you speak next. “I want to make you feel good, Fuyumi-san.”

Fuyumi shudders above you. 

Gripping her thighs, you slowly sit up to avoid jostling her from your lap. Warm hands smooth up her thighs, following the curves of her wide hips and her waistline. Fuyumi shivers when you linger on the sides of her plump breasts. You trace her bra’s outer edges up to the elastic straps and unhurriedly lower the right one. You press a kiss to her bared shoulder, as soft as the newly fallen snow outside.

“I want to make you really, really good.”

You feel how the exhale shudders out of her. “Y/n-san…”

“Will you let me? Will you let me make you feel good, Fuyumi-san?”

She laughs softly, hugging your shoulders. “How do you do that? “

“Do what?” you mumble, sucking at a beauty mark you find.

“Just - mmph, right there - just turn the situation around? It was so a-aah! Awkward and now it’s like this again.” 

You laugh huskily. “A little trick I learned on the job.”

“Seducing people?”

“Are you seduced?” you purr.

“Y-yes. But seriously...” 

“Let’s just say... I learned how to assess a situation and Turn. It. Around. In my favor.” You kiss up her neck with each word, breathing in deeply.

She gently scratches down your back, soft lines that make you shudder. “Mm, you’re a good civil servant.” 

This draws a smirk from you. “Thanks. Now...back to my question.”

“Mm?” Fuyumi’s eyes flutter.

You whisper hotly against her ear, “Will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes, please.”

Grinning, you kiss her ear and set to work.

You unsnap her bra clasp, sliding the silky undergarment off and lazily letting it fall from your hand. Her supple breasts fall free with gentle bounce. Hand on her shoulder, you lightly push her onto her back and Fuyumi goes down willingly. Lips parted, you stare down at her darkly. 

Expression hazy, she smiles up at you. “Please take care of me.”

“I’ll try my best,” you promise, voice low and gravelly.

You cup her breasts, relishing the soft weight of them in your hands, and rub slow circles over them. Then you bend down to tongue a slow circle around a dusky nipple before sucking it into your eager mouth. Fuyumi sighs, cupping the back of your neck. You hum, then go to turn your attention to the next. Gently heating your lips, you press gossamer-like kisses all over her flushed chest. From there, you kiss down her sternum and down her chest.

“Y/n-san,” she calls softly as you leave marks along her stomach.

You sink blunt teeth into he left hip and she gasps. Trembling underneath you, Fuyumi grips your hair and moans.

You slip a finger under her jeans, looking to her with lifted eyebrows. At her nod, you unbutton her jeans and - in return for her icy teasing - unzip the fly with your teeth. She gasps. You tug at the loosened denim, to which she lifts her hips, and you slide down her jeans past her hips where you kiss and suck and nip. Then you pull the jeans down her thighs. You swallow at the sight of her pink panties, pupils dilating at the dark stain over her folds.

Still, you take your time - gently pulling her jeans off one creamy leg at a time. You kiss every inch of new skin revealed, reveling in Fuyumi’s increasingly shallow breathing. You watch her chest rise and fall, breasts heaving. 

She’s easily the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

Not looking away once, you toss the jeans to some far corner and settle between her thighs. You’re not even aware of where you are, so consumed with the sight and smell of her. 

“Y-y/n-san,” she calls.

“Shh, darling,” you murmur, landing a kiss on the inside of her knee. You trace your lips down the soft skin of her inner thigh. “I know, I know.”

“Hurry.”

“Almost there. I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

She moans, the precious noise pitching louder when you press your lips to the sweet wetness pooled between her thighs. You flick the full length of your tongue over her. Delicate fingers grip the back of your head, cold and insistent, and you groan. The vibrations send her hips rolling and you follow along with the motions, licking and sucking through her underwear, breathing through your nose, tenderly thumbing circles into her hip bones. Despite the delicious press of her clenching thighs against your ears, you hear her call your name - broken between a plea and a command. And you obey.

Without wasting another moment, you pull away and hook your fingers under the hem of her panties. You slide the garment down her hips, groan at the pearly strands of her essence clinging to her puffy inner lips, and pull it down her lush thighs. 

Impatient, Fuyumi sits up enough to shove her panties the rest of the way off. Then her hand returns to the back of your head which she immediately guides to her cunt. You grasp her thighs, spreading them open for better access. You latch onto her hot bundle of nerves and suck into your mouth. Encouraged by her cries, you lave your tongue between her folds while your thumb continues toying with her clit. 

Nails scrape against your scalp, sending shocks of pained pleasure through you and inciting another moan. You bury your tongue inside her, reveling in the full taste of her. A mewl rewards your efforts. Chin shiny with her juices, you pull back only to return to her clit. You press a kiss there, two, three, before sucking it back into your hot mouth. Your fingers slide inside her; velvety walls clench around them, pulsing rhythmically as you slide in and out. 

Lashes fluttering, you lift your gaze to meet Fuyumi’s piercing blue eyes - bright and demanding above the flush of her cheeks and her neck and her heaving chest. Her grip tightens in your hair. You close eyes, blissed out, and delve your tongue deeper inside her until your nose is pressed against her clit. You delight in the wet friction. 

Her legs tremble, one hooked over your shoulder. Her cries rise - higher, higher, pitching into the dark ceiling. The sweetest of noises. You whimper when her thighs clench around you, following the undulations of her hips. Your own squirm against the sheets, arousal pooling in your underwear, as you listen. You feel it before she cries out: hands grasping, thighs shaking, labia twitching, her inner walls clenching around you. 

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. All because of you.

Fuyumi calls your names.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes -

Cold. 

Cold, cold, cold.

Under Fuyumi’s hands, ice coats your shoulders and spreads down your back. Your hair is stiff and frozen. Where her juices coated your lips and chin, now frozen. Even the tip of your nose has frost.

You blink.

Fuyumi gapes at you, horrified. 

“You know...when the weather forecast said snowy night in Tokyo, this isn’t what I expected.”

“I am SO sorry!”

You burst out laughing.

She hides her bright red face in her hands. “I’m sorry, y/n-san! Do you have a hair dryer? Let me -- “

“Nah, I’m okay. See?” You channel your Quirk, focusing on the warmth always present in the center of your chest, and let the heat spread throughout the rest of your body. Steam rises from your skin as the frost melts, not leaving so much as a droplet of moisture behind. 

Hands lowered, Fuyumi’s jaw drops. “You...you have a fire Quirk.”

“Opposites really do attract, huh?” Eyes crinkling, you laugh. 

It’s the only sound in the bedroom. 

“...Fuyumi-san?”

Speechless, Fuyumi stares at you with wide, wide eyes. The climax-induced flush is gone, bleached from her skin. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand.

You immediately recognize that expression. It’s the look a civilian had before they were saved, before help arrived. Fear. Seeing it on her face makes your stomach turn. It reminds you of the time you rescued a child from a burning building after a villain set off an electrical fire - the initial relief on the boy’s face evolving into sheer panic when you activated your own flames to fight the villain off before back-up came. You’d hated yourself for reigniting that fear so soon after the initial trauma.

And now? You’re bewildered and cautious. 

“Hey...you alright there?”

“I - yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Fuyumi swiftly looks away, shrinking in on herself. She brings her arms up to her bare chest. 

Resisting the urge to frown, you put up an air of calm. You wordlessly lift a sheet and - avoiding sudden movements - wrap it around her shoulders.

She blinks at you.

“A lot of people have had bad experiences with fire,” you say, non-judgemental. You smile softly. “I get it. It can be pretty scary sometimes. But I can guarantee you that I have better control over my Quirk than most people. Haven’t had an accident since I was 10.”

“I’m not - that’s not it, y/n-san.” Even saying that, Fuyumi pulled the sheet tighter around herself.

You lifted and lowered your shoulders in a languid shrug. “It doesn’t matter what it was or wasn’t. And you don’t have to explain it to me, either.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “Y/n-san - “ 

“Fuyumi-san,” you say, hushed. “It’s okay.”

You won't lie to yourself, though: It hurts. But you recognize a trigger when you see one. If years of general wariness of your flames didn’t teach you that, your training certainly did.

It’s that same training that allows you to smile at her reassuringly. “Hey… Look.” 

You hold your hand out, palm side up. Watching her face carefully, searching for even the slightest flinch, you focus the heat under your skin to converge at the center of your palm: A spark, then a shimmer, and a small flame comes to life. No bigger than a birthday candle, it casts a soft light across your face. 

Fuyumi’s eyes flicker between your tender expression and the tiny fire. Your own gaze doesn’t waver from her face, even as you slowly twist your hand and will the flame to move sluggishly along your palm, your wrist, over your knuckles, and between your fingers. Fuyumi watches all the while. 

You urge the flare to your to the very tip of your index finger and hold it up to your mouth. You purse your lips, not unlike a kiss, and extinguish it with a small puff. You wink at her. “See? Perfect control.”

While she is still hunched under the sheet, it at least earns you a small, wobbly smile. 

You hold out your hand, again palm side up. She immediately looks at it, clearly expecting another flame. The corner of your mouth twitches and you wiggle your fingers a little. 

It’s a relief when she accepts the silent offer, placing her small hand in yours. Your fingers wrap around hers. Tenderly, carefully, you brush your over her knuckles. Like you’re holding something infinitely precious.

“I was a pretty stupid kid, you know. You would’ve hated having me in your classroom,” you say suddenly, still fixated on your joined hands.

Fuyumi looks almost offended. “No, I wouldn’t!”

It makes you grin a little. “You’re right. You’re an amazing teacher - one of those saintly ones with tons of patience for even the brattiest of kids. I can tell. But trust me, even little me would have given you a run for your money. I was pretty full of myself, just because of an accident of being born with some flashy Quirk. Always showing off and playing around with it.”

At this, your smile fades into a grim line. “But you know what they say about playing with fire. ‘Cept I can’t burn but others sure can. I learned that the hard way...at someone else’s expense.”

“...the accident when you were 10,” Fuyumi recalls, voice faint.

“It was someone I really care about,” you say. Your mouth twists into a self-contemptuous sneer as you shake your head. “I knew how to start fires but hadn’t yet learned how to put them out. So much for the little show off.”

Suddenly, her hand squeezes yours. You blink.

“You were only a child, y/n-san,” she whispers. Her eyebrows scrunch together and without her glasses, there’s nothing between you and those fierce eyes. “It was an accident.”

“Doesn’t matter. Someone else paid for it,” you say, uncompromising. She opens her mouth to protest. You raise her hand to kiss her knuckles which immediately snaps her mouth close. “And I’ve been a whole lot more careful since then. I promised myself that I would use my Quirk to protect people, not hurt them. Especially not someone I care about.”

At that, you press your lips to her slim wrist. You gently suck at the blue-ish veins beneath delicate skin, kissing the heel of her hand and then her own palm and finally the tips of fingers. You look up to see Fuyumi’s cherry red face.

“Are you hungry?”

“W-what?” She sounds half as breathless as you felt most of the evening. Payback, sweetheart.

“I promised to take care of you tonight, remember? So. Are you hungry?”

Fuyumi stares at you, taking in your still half-dressed state and kiss-bruised lips. “What about you? I didn’t...you know.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. Lemme get you a glass of water at least.”

After her near panic attack and the sudden turn in conversation, you figure she might not be in the best headspace to...reciprocate. Besides, nothing dashes the libido quite like your partner almost freaking out at your Quirk.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stretch your arms out, oblivious to Fuyumi’s sharpened stare where your back muscles ripple with the movement. You push your hair back, lightly scratching your head as you lazily search the floor for your shirt. 

“Wanna watch a movie or something? I think I have some popcorn. We could - “

Cool hands smooth over your waist, meeting in the middle of your stomach. You feel the swell of her breasts against your too-warm back, tight nipples on your shoulder blades. Chilled lips brush the junction of your neck and shoulder, following the curve of your neck. She catches your earlobe between her teeth and tugs. 

Your breath hitches. 

Her hands trail up your abdomen, leaving shivers in their wake, before cupping your breasts. You arch your back, consequently pushing yourself further into her. Her thumbs smooth twin circles around your nipples, her natural chill sensitizing them. 

“Fuyumi….” Her name is a weak moan from your mouth.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” comes her wintry whisper. “Let me return the favor, okay?”

“A-are you sure? A-ah! Fuyumi!”

“I told you, y/n, I want it. And I’ll take it if I have to.”

There is a higher power and apparently, that higher power fucking loves you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

It’s habit that wakes you up in the early morning. Drowsily, you blink up at your ceiling and then turn your head on your pillow to find Fuyumi’s face inches from yours. Her cheek is squished against a pillow, snowy strands caught in her mouth. 

You stare at her in silent awe. 

Eventually, your stomach reminds you of your basic needs and by extension Fuyumi’s eventual needs as well. Breakfast then. You sit up slowly, taking care not to wake her. You swing your legs over the bed and pad your way around fallen clothes. You pick them up, sorting out which were whose. Your cell drops out of your pants.

You remember your promise to Kamiji. Turning on your cell, you grimace at the low power and then pause at the many...many messages on it.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: RED ALERT RED ALERT

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: YO Y/N PICK UP

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: As GREAT as a time you’re having right now...pick up.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Yl//n.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n. 

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n y/n.

Frowning, you press “call” on her contact. A few rings carry on, setting your nerves at ease. You know that if it really was an emergency, she would be awake and pick up immediately.

A groggy voice answers. “Must’ve been a fun night.”

“Kamiji, what’s up?” you murmur.

“Did you take that girl home with you?”

“Uuh…” You glance at Fuyumi’s curled up form. The sheets drape over the curve of her hips and tangle between her legs, leaving her mostly bare. Her arms stretch out above her head, feathery hair a tangled mess, carmine streaks vibrant in the sunrise. A few of your marks stand out, red and violet, on the fair skin of her waist and chest. Perfect matches to the ones all over your chest.

You don’t realize you’re smiling like an idiot until you hear your name repeated, louder and louder. “Y/l/n… Y/L/N! HEY!”

You scowl, soundlessly slipping out of bed and snatching a robe on the way out. You muffle your phone against your collarbone until you’re safely in the kitchen where Kamiji’s yelling won’t wake Fuyumi up.

“Yes, Kamiji, I took her home with me and now I’m going to make her breakfast. There a problem?” 

Coffee. You need coffee. 

“Well, at least you’re treating her right. Hopefully that’ll work in your favor.”

“What are you talking about?” you grouse, getting your coffee maker ready. You mentally go over what you have in the fridge. Do you have enough to make something? Or should you run to the cafe to grab something? Would you get back before Fuyumi wakes up? Maybe you should wait and see if she’d want to go with you...

A dark laugh from the receiver. “You really have no idea who she is, do you?”

You freeze. Tightening your grip on the phone, you glance warily at your closed bedroom door. “...why, is she a villain?”

“You wish.”

Your brow furrows. “What?”

“You’re completely fireproof, right?” 

“Yes,” you say, frowning. “It’s pretty much why Endeavor hired me.”

Kamiji makes a small, aggravated noise. “He hired for more than that, y/l/n. But we’ll get into that later - before our boss gives a whole new meaning to firing you.”

“Fire me? For what?”

“What’s his name, y/l/n? His actual name?”

You really do not like where this conversation was going. “Todoroki Enji?”

“And who did you take home with you last night?”

“...that’s not funny, Kamiji.”

“I’m not joking.”

“It’s a common last name,” you protest, “and they look absolutely nothing alike - “

Except.

Except for the red in her hair. 

And the color of her eyes, the curve of her nose, the angle of her eyebrows...

The same family name.

Her reaction to your fire Quirk.

You even met at a bar close to the Endeavor Hero Agency.

“No.”

“Yeeeaaah. You slept with the #2 hero’s only daughter.”

For the first time since you were 10, you lose control of your Quirk - setting your favorite robe aflame.

“SHIT!”

Kamiji’s laughter is barely heard over the smoke alarm. Burnt cotton fills the kitchen air and you tear off the robe to throw it in the sink, immediately turning on the faucet. And then there you are, wearing nothing but a few love bites, as you fight with the smoke alarm to shut it up. 

Having taken the batteries out, you snatch up the phone and hiss, “I slept with our boss’s daughter? Our boss boss? Endeavor?”

“You work for my father?” 

You swear you feel the blood draining from your face. Slowly, mechanically, you turn around. She stands just outside your room, a vision in white sheets. The girl you met last night, the girl you’re pretty sure you fell a little in love with at first sight. The one you took home with you.

Todoroki Fuyumi.

Endeavor’s only daughter.

The higher power fucking hates you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Note: When Fuyumi says “Please take care of me” during introductions with reader, it’s actually an English translation of “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu” which is more of a concept than a direct translation. Cool explanation here for my fellow language nerds.

[boggirlsummer]

Wet Hot American Summer

August 18 Zoey and I thought we fixed the leak in my tent but we were wrong. I spent the early morning inching away from a puddle that finally pushed me out around 8 am - time to get up anyway. Too rainy to cook or make coffee and I left camp aimlessly. I could barely see anything through the smoke and clouds which threw a wrench in my non-plan to drive around and take photos out the car window. Grand Tetons and Montana and Wyoming were up there on my teenage bucket list (lmao, dream big!), mostly for the landscapes and western vibes and maybe a few cathartic renditions of Wide Open Spaces. I just hiked all summer so I feel like I earned a few days of all-american automobile tourism.

Cozy

Decision fatigue is a ball buster on solo trips (and in life) and sometimes I refuse to change course even when it’s clear that a plan isn’t going to work out. I drove around Tetons alternately listening to the directions and making random navigational decisions, so Google kept yelling at me to make a u-turn. Eventually I got annoyed with both of us and stopped for snacks at the general store. I’ve been making my way through all the kettle chip flavors and so far honey dijon is the best and korean bbq is the worst.

Drove straight through to Yellowstone hoping the storm would let up, but by the time I got there it was 50 degrees with rain expected all afternoon. I thought it would be SUMMER once I left the Bay Area, so all my sweaters and warm jackets are in vacuum sealed bags that I don’t have the space in my car to open. I wasn’t loving the idea of being wet and cold in Yellowstone all night so I talked the campground lady into refunding my site reservation and headed for Big Sky, Montana.

I felt bad leaving without seeing any of the Yellowstone sights so I stopped at Old Faithful on my way out. I knew laughably little about what I was looking at and when a bunch of people started gathering I thought to myself, is this thing gonna explode or something?? And ya turns out that’s the entire point, it shoots a bunch of water and steam into the air every few minutes. I bought a cup of coffee and watched halfheartedly. The only other attraction I know about is the rainbow glory hole and there was so much traffic to park in the lot I said screw it and went on to Montana.

No LTE between Yellowstone and Big Sky and I was without a place to sleep - luckily my sister was available to do some emergency concierge work for me. I eventually found a nice campground near town but the obscene number of bear country warning signs freaked me out. I backtracked to Big Sky to buy a $50 can of bear spray, what a rip. Feeling beat today so I made it up to myself with a bowl of chicken curry ramen and a Sapporo. It was no nugget curry, but it did the job ☺️

Reading the bear spray instructions before bed - you’re supposed to use it once a charging bear is two to three seconds from reaching you. Wtf. I can’t do anything in two seconds. Finished Year of the Monkey at last. Almost fell asleep with a candy wrapper in my pocket, instant death. Also I got my period and I’m worried this is going to attract the bears.

August 19 I broke my own rule. I drove to Bozeman this morning and had a chicken fried steak at the Western Cafe, “The Last Best Cafe.” I had a nice chat with two old guys at the bar, initiated by ME! We talked about my trip so far and books (I was reading Walden Two and one of the guys had Woman in the Window with him, and we agreed that both authors are pretty nuts). Good time all around and then one of them secretly bought my breakfast 🥰 I’ve only ever had creepy men buy me drinks at bars so free CFS with no strings attached was a revelation. My smile lit up the cold dark streets of Bozeman.

Too early for hostel check-in so I killed some time hanging out in a coffee shop and wandering around Main Street. When I’m alone in a new city I usually get on the apps, it’s fun to hang out with a real LOCAL and have an AUTHENTIC experience. I did this on my first night in Sydney last year and my date won $7,000 at a bar raffle he’d been going to every week for three years and then bought us a night’s worth of top shelf shots, bad coke, and dumplings. Obviously I was his good luck charm so I should’ve gotten a cut of that $$$ but whatever… Eventually we went back to his depressing loft outside of the city. It was barely furnished and full of his shitty art and luckily he didn’t have any condoms so I was able to decline sex without feeling guilty (I had condoms of course but didn’t disclose). He tried to fuck me again around 4 am and I was so confused I thought he must have found a condom while I was briefly sleeping. He had not. I snuck out at 6 am and caught the bus back to the city. Not the most restful night but nice to get away from the hostel for a little while. But ya I updated my Hinge location to Bozeman and got hella conservative men swiping on me 🥴 My profile isn’t anything crazy but I don’t think I’m giving off Megyn Kelly vibes. Are they playing some sort of sexual bingo? Are they out to stealth me? Seems sus.

If you are a man on Hinge with a naked photo on your profile I WILL screenshot it and I WILL make a collage of my collection once I have enough material and I WILL sell it as a NFT and I WILL make $0 cuz y’all are freaks. This is the tamest one I’ve got, text me if you want a photo of a naked man covering his junk with a pineapple.

Ooooieee hostel is grungy and subterranean and not the kinda place you want to spend many conscious hours in. I took myself to the movies to escape - another thing I really missed last year. I saw The Night House, which I would describe as an architectural horror? I’ve been thinking about architecture a lot lately, this cool site Zoey sent me has some interesting interviews and stuff. In the movies I ate an entire bag of sour gummy worms and a box of junior mints.

Had a freaky bookstore experience earlier today, not the first time this summer. I originally wrote a longgg paragraph about synchronicity here but I got self conscious and started wondering if hearing other people’s stories about synchronicity is like listening to them talk about their dreams. I personally love talking about dreams (call me and tell me about your crazy dreams!!) but things definitely get lost in translation and sometimes they’re straight boring (like when my old coworkers and I used to dream in Excel, fucckkk). So I get why people find it annoying and here at Bog Girl Summer we can’t afford to alienate any of our readers. All I will say is that I walked into a bookstore today with synchronicity very much on my mind, went to the psychology section to buy a baby Jung text, and there saw a literal sign that said “Staff Pick, Introductory Jung: Synchronicity.” So yes, I bought it. Don’t forget y’all - I have a psychology degree so please don’t come after me about confirmation bias and all that lol. It’s very possible that in this summer of upheaval I’m desperate for some kinda sign that I’m on the right path. Let me have this one 😘

I also bought this postcard which spoke to me because most days I feel like I’m trying to drink out of a firehose

[obiyuki-beebs]

CH 116 thoughts / discussion

mkah spoiler / discussion and no cut.

I’m going back to thinking about the 115 post (reblogged directly below this one or in the obiyuki content page on my blog) I did and how that bottle is just like the one Touka Bergatt told his brothers “wont work on him”. So now we know that this bottle of perfume (and is perfume, not poison as I had previously thought) that is basically hypnotic pheromone juice. Touka apparently cannot be influenced by it. Was that what was used to lure in and kill Touka’s father? I think so.

Remember in the early days (ch. 28) when Mitsuhide smelled that smashed potion and went nuts over Zen for a chapter? 

While it may not be the same potion, it does have similar hypnotic properties. This potion is described by Garack as being associated to what we are thinking of at the time, or more particularly, producing a strong reaction to a deeply held loyalty (a type of love). Mitsuhide is worried about Zen, who he already has a strong relationship with. This potion seems to have enhanced feelings that were already there.

That was the same instance that was used as the final test for Shirayuki’s court herbalist apprenticeship, which she passed. I think that counts as a strong memory that may influence this arc as well if she and Ryuu recall the test in their brainstorming and investigation.

We did not get a name for the plant, and it is simply referred to as the blue flower drug. While I’m not supposing Sorata was planting an easter egg so early, I do think she may be using a similar premise of hypnotic (at the very least).

Back to 116....

You can see in this depiction of Yozumi that his eyes are blank. We get confirmation that he was hypnotized, but I think we should remember this look for future encounters as it provides insight to the effect the perfume has. 

After she hits him to get him away, he looks shaken. Shirayuki sees how strongly his emotion is affected by this. Yozumi is tearing up with obvious pain in his eyes. What happened to his lover? He asks repeatedly for Shirayuki to leave, facing away from her, clearly fighting the hypnotic temptation. Look at his face in the next image. Why is he so distraught? What about his lover and the perfume are so upsetting? This might also provide some insight on why he’s so protective of the perfume bottle. Is it all he has left of his lover? Did she die? Missing? Was he betrayed?

“I took it with me in secret.” 

Did he steal the perfume from her?

Yozumi -- who will not name his lover but we can almost definitely infer is Mm. Liera or in some way connected to her -- reacts to some of the perfume that Shirayuki placed on her collar. This means that the perfume is not the same as the potion described in ch 28, so is it the same plant in a different formulation? Or is it a different plant that also has hypnotic effects?

(as a side note, I wonder how effective washing out the perfume is? Washing off of your skin, sure, fool proof that eventually the substance will be gone. But with fabric? It might be much more difficult to clean. Maybe Shirayuki is using the pepper Ryuu gave her to wash her collar? If there is somehow leftover potion on her clothes, will some unsuspecting gentleman get a whiff of trace potion and be swayed to make a move? I would like to see shirayuki in proximity to obi for this hypothetical... this whole paragraph seems silly now that I’m editing but I’m leaving it). 

“When I was beside him, he seemed like he was in pain.”

Emotional pain? Physical pain?

Yozumi seems to have been ‘addicted’ to his lover by means of this perfume, and describes withdrawal symptoms when he was separated from her for more than a few days. 

Withdrawal -- physical withdrawal -- is serious and a sign that the body has become accustomed to a stimulus, that being in contact with the stimulus is the bodies new normal. 

However..... I’m not sure how closely we are supposed to compare that to withdrawal in the real world. I (used to) work in healthcare and still think like a nurse... I can’t help but apply that line of thought when Shirayuki is also a health care professional. Court Herbalist seems to cover sides of modern nursing and modern pharmacy. I think it’s more likely that the perfume is a vehicle for manipulation -- a lure for an assassin to exploit -- rather than so severely addictive that it incapacitates someone. 

That being said, Yozumi is still addicted to the smell of the perfume. Addiction psyche will often have you rationalize and seek out the source of your addiction, even if you know it’s the wrong thing to do. Will he try to seek his lover out? Is she alive? Is she a villain!? All I’m sure of is that she is associated with the Bergatt scheme (re same bottle, etc), and is part of the untrustworthy faction in the North that will try to reclaim Wilant and its territories. 

Can Yozumi be trusted out and about? Lol no. Probably not. Who does he kinda look like? Obi bb..... Spy time? Will the knights ball be a masquerade?! WILL OBI AND SHIRAYUKI GO TOGETHER WEARING MASKS?! ahem I hope so. With close proximity dance & perfume. I hope we get some Obi x Shirayuki confronting the tension between them. Maybe the perfume / knights ball will be the catalyst? 

Then. Yozumi is contacted by someone he has never met and invited to meet, and this woman has the same scent. This woman is connected to the original lover, and whoever supplies the ‘perfume.’ Probably the Bergatts and their loyalists. This encounter with the perfume alerted Yozumi that he should be suspicious of the lover and the scent, which catches us up to the present and why he has come to see court herbalists. 

So this perfume ... basically makes people horny .....there’s going to be a ton of temptation shit going on and I am so here for it. 

this post is already so long ...... my arthritis is so bad rn but I’m so pumped about the chapter I’m popping 800 mg ibuprofen and trucking on thank you so much for reading up to this point

So ... the identity of the lover. We know she is high born, and is the daughter of a Viscount. We can assume she’s from the North. There seems to be a network of women working with and / under Mm. Liera to tempt and manipulate chosen parties (Yozumi, Touka’s Father, etc). 

Shirayuki and Ryuu plan to send their observations to the pharmacists of Lyrias, with “people they can trust.” Eisetsu became a little more suspicious to me in this chapter. His reaction to people we can trust was odd when you reflect on it, especially after he OBVIOUSLY LIES ABOUT KNOWING MM LIERA at the end of the chapter. Obi can tell that Eisetsu is hiding something. 

Bullet points from here on out because handswristselbowsandshoulders are literally on fire haha arthritis !!!!!

Other thoughts:

I wonder what Mitsuhide and Kiki were talking about on their walk in the woods? How curious. Maybe they are discussing the state of the North and theorizing similar to how we are? IS THIS META SORATA (p not)

I love the interaction between Ryuu and Shirayuki when she has finished washing off the perfume and she thanks Ryuu for coming with her and Obi ... happy family ... peers who trust ... coworker you can rely on .. ♡(｡- ω -)

lol Eisetsu “vetoed” but I mean he seemed to get a clue after Yozumi mentioned her being from a Viscount family. 

Another suspicious Eisetsu moment ... Does he know who Yozumi Iriz is? Apparently so. 

I might be totally off base in suspecting Eisetsu. Maybe he’s one of the good guys. It’s too early to just explicitly trust, especially in a part of the country that is known to be hostile to ProWistalFamily. I am pretty back and forth about if I trust him, though. I want to. I think he’s funny and that he seems genuinely good. But idk. My hackles are raised.

It brought me SUCH JOY that Obi came back after the rains, with the flowers blooming.  (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

Wasn’t that little agreement clap between Shirayuki and Eisetsu much like the high five that Obi and Shirayuki do? Maybe Yuki did that to put herself at ease, almost like she too is trying to trust Eisetsu. 

d r a m a ? ? ! !

People are covering for Mm. Liera and her crew. They are associated and probably working closely with the Bergatt loyalists. What will be next?

We will hear more about the upcoming Knight’s Ball

More research conducted on effect of perfume and its properties

Will it be related to the blue plant from ch 28?

Will a spy be sent to Lyrias to intercept research on the perfume? This is more of my Hackles Incorporated TM business mentioned before re Eisetsu and if he can be trusted. 

BACK TO WAITING!

<3 beebs <3

[a-king-alone]

Harry Warden x female reader Summary: It's the 60's baby ~

You were just a normal person, nothing particularly special about you. You went about your daily life, without much of a care. In fact, you felt a bit disconnected from reality, but continued to do your work diligently. So, why you?

It was early February, the cooled air still felt a bit brisk, sending a shiver down your arms, feeling the hairs rise beneath. You pulled your cardigan closer; you got cold easily. As you were walking down to your neighbors house before your scheduled shift at your job, you overheard some older ladies standing near their mailboxes, gossiping or some such.

It caught your attention that there was a mine accident in one of the towns nearby. It was rare, but not unusual. The hazards of working in a mine were very well known.  Silently, you hoped everyone turned out to be uninjured and managed to be rescued safely. It may have been a fruitless wish, but you wished it, nonetheless.

You kept walking. It wasn't much of your concern. It was business as usual that day, nothing out of the ordinary. Valentine's day was upon the town, but you had no plans. Nobody was interested in you, nor did anybody from the small town you grew up in interest you. You talked about this with your friend while you assisted them for their date.

You thought of how nice it would be to move away somewhere else, to escape from the same old stale scenery you'd grown accustomed to. You worked as a waitress in one of the three diners in the town, every face you saw, you saw every day. You knew what they would order and how they preferred it.

It was incredibly boring.

Usually, you'd have left work before dusk, but you were chosen to settle in with the last of the hourly shift. Your coworkers had plans for their special love interests, dolled up and ready for their beautiful, romantic Valentine's evenings.

Fortunately, that meant everyone was busy with their plans, so the rest of your shift was you occupying an empty store. You enjoyed the silence. That is, you were, until a few men in business attire entered, bantering and laughing with one another upon entry.

Strangely, you didn't recognize any of them at all. They were fresh faces. You put on your best charming smile and welcomed them. They sat and ordered some sweets and black coffees.

As you prepared their items for them, you sorta listened in on their conversation. You couldn't deny that you were curious of these strangers. One of them mentioned the mine from the other town as you brought them their coffees. Not quite what you were interested in hearing, your shoulders sagging a bit.

"Thanks, sweetheart." You nodded, returning to behind the counter.

"Couldn't believe it, they tried to blame me for the accident. Are they insane? How could it be my fault? Had to get out of the town, it was driving me nuts." The man tsk'd as his fellows laughed at his frustrations.

They went on to mention that while rescue was in attempt at this very moment, they hadn't found anybody at all. That was very unfortunate. It brought down your mood a little bit, knowing that there were people trapped in tunnels underground, probably scared, without food or water... or worse, stuck in the pitch black darkness. How horrific.

With a small, quiet sigh thorough your nose, you brought the gentlemen their sweets they requested, mentioning to them that your diner would be closing soon. They acknowledged it and didn't overstay their welcome.

After you closed, you set off for your journey on foot back to your home. Your house was about a mile outside of the town. It was your family home, left to you by your deceased parents. You had no siblings nor much of any connection to family members from either side of the family. You preferred to be left alone.

The money you made was only just enough to keep the place together and to have a roof over your head. You figured someday you'd try to get an automobile after saving up, if you could manage it. It'd be a while before then.

The moon was bright as you wrapped your arms around yourself, to ward off the chill of the cold air. As you arrived to your front porch, you noticed something a little unusual. It looked as if your front door were open, just a tad.

Your brow furrowed as you took a quick glance behind you, then surveying your immediate surroundings. It was silent. Surely you couldn't have forgotten to close the door when you left. Your eyebrows rose. Y'know, you might have forgotten. Sometimes your head floats away into the clouds.

You entered your domicile, closing and locking the door, for sure, behind you this time. It was a cozy home, everything within mostly left untouched from your childhood. Rather dated, but still homely.

You felt like you would enjoy some tea to warm your bones, so you went into your kitchen to prepare some for yourself in a kettle. Leaving it to boil, you ascended the staircase toward your bedroom, where you stopped dead in your tracks at the top.

You closed your bedroom door. You always closed your bedroom door because there was a cold draft in the upper part of the house and you didn't like it being so cold in your room. Yet, the door was slightly ajar. The hairs on your neck rose with a strange feeling coiling around inside of your stomach.

Your home had nothing of value in it, nothing that a burglar would covet enough to steal from you. The worst of your thoughts were pinned on the idea of a pervert or serial rapist. The closest immediate object for protection available to you was an umbrella.

You frowned, very deeply.

There was a vase on the stand in the hallway where you stood. Your mother adored it. You adored staying alive, so you picked up the vase and slowly tip-toed toward your bedroom.

Instantly, you froze, once you heard a bit of rummaging. Oh my god, you thought, there's actually someone in there... Dread washed over you, but you wanted to defend your home from creepy perverts. You were the only one you had to protect yourself. You could smash their head in with a vase. No problem, right? ...Right?

With a big inhale, you kicked your door open, frantically flipping the light switch after the fact. The sight before your eyes was the very last thing you'd have ever expected to see as the light flooded the contents on the room. You dropped the vase.

It was a man. A man with a miners type of outfit slathered in dirt and grime, a gas mask covering the entirety of his skull. And there was blood, splattered in random patterns upon it. He was attempting to open your window when you burst in, his back slightly turned to you. Two pitch black circular holes met with your frozen position as his mask turned in your direction, neither of you moving.

Downstairs, you heard the tea kettle whistling for your attention and all you could do is blink. You'd never been so afraid in your life, your soles firmly planted right where you were, your lips agape in abject horror.

"I- I need... to..." you sputtered stupidly, your mind broken as you turned away from this someone, this stranger in your house, in your bedroom, who might actually kill you, and you're damn near sprinting down the stairs as fast as you never thought you could.

What am I doing?! you thought as you grabbed your own face with your hands, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. I should be calling the authorities! Finally you seemed to get a grasp on the situation and grabbed your telephone on your kitchen table, sliding into one of the chairs. As you were mid-dial, a gloved hand pushed down on the receiver.

Towering over you was the man, again, staring down at you, unmoving.

"Don't do that."

You're suspended in absolute horror and all you can do is swiftly nod, withdrawing your hand quickly from the phone to hold it against your chest, which was rapidly moving with each breath. How did you not notice he came downstairs?

You wanted to speak, you wanted to ask what he wanted, why he was in your house, but your throat was closed. You were so scared that he would hurt you, or molest you, dismember you, torture you, or kill you. Slowly, the masked man bent down onto one knee to be more at level with you as you were trembling like a leaf caught in the breeze.

"Don't cause any trouble for me. Nod if you understand."

You nod.

"Good. Didn't realize this home was occupied, looked kind of old. I need to stay here for the night. Nod if you understand." His voice was muffled, but gruff and deep in tone, causing another spike of fear within you.

You nod again. Why in the hell did he need to hide in your house? Was he a criminal? He was wearing a miners type of outfit, or so it seemed, you weren't overly familiar with the appearance of one. He rose to his full height with a sharp inhale. It seemed like he wouldn't harm you as long as you cooperated with his demands. You hoped that it wouldn't extend further than this.

His mask tilted as he watched you watching him. You had no idea what to do, feeling your mind bending and cracking to try and cope with the situation.

"W- W- Wou- W-" you began, but you couldn't get the sentence to exit from your lips at all, sucking in breath to try and ease your panicked body. A noise that sounded like a sharp exhale through the nose came from the mask, somewhat resembling a snort.

The man took the slightest step toward you and you immediately cowered, flinching your eyes shut as you turned away. God, just please go away... you thought, please don't hurt me.

You remained like that for a few seconds, hearing only silence around you, turning very slowly as your eyes found themselves drawn toward the masked man again, whom was unmoved from where he stood. You blinked, tears pooling around your lower lids despite you attempting to will them to go away.

If he wasn't trying to hurt you, perhaps he pitied you for being so pathetic.

Shuffling your gaze around, you sniffled a bit, rising from your kitchen chair in very slow, very deliberate movements while the man continued to just stare at you.

You wouldn't turn your back to him at all as you moved toward your tea kettle, stopping when you were standing in front of it. His mask followed your general direction as you went. Your chest rose and fell with your panic. You took a deep breath in. Exhale.

"W- ... Would you... like some t- tea...?" you hoarsely asked in the tiniest of whispers, your hands finding their way to clasp one another over your heart, thudding so harshly against your ribs.

The man did not move, at all. You hoped he heard you so you wouldn't have to repeat yourself, your stare trained on him and only him. Nothing happened for a moment.

And then, he nodded.

"O- Okay."

You really did not want to turn your back to this man, in fear that he would strike you down as soon as you did, take your life and then steal your home to turn into his base for criminal activities. Tears pricked at your eyes once more as you turned toward the kettle on the stove. The warmth granted the ghost of relief. As you prepared the cups of tea, your hands refused to stop shaking, causing the glasses to clink together every so often.

Nothing happened between then and you facing him again.

You turned toward him, unsure if you'd even be able to bring it to him without spilling it or dropping it on the floor. Trying your best to keep a strong grip on the cups, you went toward the table, placing both of the cups down across from one another on the surface with haste.

You took your seat, using every ounce of your willpower to one, not cry, and two, not stare at this terrifying man intruding in your house.

The man entered your view as he sat across from you. For several moments, he only sat there, seemingly watching you as you sipped your own tea. Silently, you wondered if maybe he actually didn't want to show his face to you. A criminal would think like that, right...? You weren't sure. You cleared your throat, gently.

"Um... Do you... want me to look away...?"

You weren't sure why you were even bothering to ask, but you wanted to play this as safely as possible to get out of this situation unscathed and this felt like the best option. The man didn't respond, for several more moments, causing you to squirm a bit under his seeming scrutiny.

"...No," he finally answered, his gloved hands removing the helmet, then after, pulling the gas mask off of his head from the back. He set it down on the table as he twisted the hose connected to it from the nozzle, letting the other half fall free to his side.

Genuinely, you were surprised at his appearance. He certainly wasn't what you had expected, though you were kind of expecting a monster, in all honesty. He looked far more human than what your wild imagination conjured, a bit lengthy dark curly locks, even darker eyes, which weren't looking at you, but down at the cup of tea you had offered him.

Pinching the tip of his finger, his eyes dark as the night sky suddenly met yours as you were surveying him, pulling the glove off slowly, before doing the same the other. This time, his gaze did not break away until he removed both gloves and set them down on top of his mask.

He picked up the little cup and sipped the tea.

"It's good," he commented, the tip of his tongue running over his top lip to catch a bit that had lingered there.

You felt, somehow, the tiniest bit of ease now that he had removed his gear from his person. With the mask, he looked much more terrifying. Or so you had thought for just a moment, until you found his piercing gaze glued to your eyes, nonstop.

His eyes made him look like a feral animal. Ink black. A predator.

You sucked in air audibly, your eyes widening just slightly when you saw one corner of his mouth rise at the noise you just made, that gaze never wavering from your eyes, not for a second. Like a coyote within reach of a delicious piece of meat.

You felt your stomach drop to the center of the earth.

You wanted to run, so badly, and never look back, start over somewhere else. Everything about this felt like a mistake, as if you were being played into the devils hands, being lured willingly to your own demise.

You could feel your breath cooling your lips as you breathed in and out of the gap shallowly, the anxiety making your entire body feel like it was tightly coiling inside of itself, collapsing like a dying star.

And he was smiling, just slightly. At you. This man was not right in the head and this realization was hitting you harder and harder. You were damn-near in tears, visibly trembling out of sheer panic and it seemed that sight of it brought him joy, after he had broke into your home, causing you terror. Was he... enjoying it...?

"W- Wh- Wh- Who are...?" you sputtered without thinking and the man simply shook his head with slow, deliberate motion, causing you to stop then and there. You blinked, in silence, your lips opening and closing.

The tears were threatening to fall and you desperately didn't want it to happen. It would just show your weakness to this monster and you already looked like a pitiful little mess. You picked up your cup and sipped what was left of your tea, rising from your seat with all the strength you could muster with a small sniffle. Don't show him your tears, you thought.

As you were placing your cup into your sink, the man was behind you suddenly and without warning, as you were lost in your own racing thoughts. His arm went by your side, too close to you, as he placed the cup you offered him into the sink right on top of yours.

You froze, a gasp escaping you.

And you heard what almost sounded like a very faint, very pleased... vibration of noise come from him behind you, you weren't too sure, since your heartbeat was pounding so hard in your ears you couldn't think straight.

Every hair on your body stood on end when the man had leaned down close to your neck, too close, his lips close, much too close, to your ear, his breath gentle against it  as he whispered, "My name is Harry."

He lingered there, for far too long. You could feel him breathing and you were too terrified to move at all, your lips quivering, your own breathing audibly shaking.

"But don't say it. Don't... say it."

He then backed away from you, returning to the seat he had claimed as his own at your kitchen table. The overflow began and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Wet streaks fell down your cheeks, one after another, blurring your vision as you stared into the sink where the cups lie on top of one another.

You felt so trapped. Your chest heaved and a sob erupted from you abruptly, your hands covering your nose and mouth to stop the shockwave, but it was too late. This wasn't your house anymore, it was the den of a creature hellbent on tasting your blood and gnawing on the shreds of your suffering until the bitter end. That's how it felt. That this man was your death, awaiting for you and only you.

Harry calmly stared at you as you sobbed over the sink, unable to keep a grip on yourself any longer. You had tried to, oh you had tried. You tried so hard to stay strong.

"Do you want a hug?"

You choked on your own gulp of air, your head whipping to this man with the most incredulous expression on your tear-stained face. A flicker of a smile ghosted around Harry's mouth, but it never manifested.

"Just kidding," he said, leaning back in the chair, finally, his gaze settling elsewhere.

Your eyes narrowed, but somehow... You felt your tears subside just a little bit. That sinister aura didn't feel as thick and all-consuming as it had a moment ago. He wasn't a monster, just a man. Probably a criminal... or a serial killer. But just another human being. You felt a bit more calm. Only a little.

You looked away, a question prodding at your tongue and you wanted to know if he would tell the truth. He probably wouldn't. Why would he? Harry probably wasn't even his real name. You allowed your momentary calmness fuel your strength.

"Are you... W- Were you... planning to kill me...?"

Harry seemed thoughtful about your question, though not surprised by it. You wondered if he was considering lying to you so that you'll keep cooperating without any issues arising. If it were you, you would lie. You felt sick. You were dreading what his answer might be even though you were the one who asked so blatantly.

"No. Didn't think anyone lived here," he admitted, his eyes wandering around your kitchen, observing the olden items and decor of the last decade within your home.

"O- Oh.."

Your face flushed as you realized that it sounded as if you were slightly disappointed by his answer due to the tone of your reply, which was completely unintentional. You dared to glance his way and sure enough, his eyes were pinned directly on you now, one of his brows just slightly risen.

"N- Not like that!!" you defended with your hands, turning away from a grin that had formed on his lips. He chuckled lightly at your response, shaking his head just a bit.

"I might do anything if you ask me nicely," he teased, though, it was as if it were teasing between friends, but something about his gaze seemed just a little bit more soft toward you. There couldn't be a reason for it, because you were strangers. And your interactions have only lasted for an hour at most.

"Then... Then... may I...?" you persisted in a quiet but hopeful voice with a step toward him, testing the waters of his offer, even though you knew it wasn't serious, you wanted to know if you could just straight up ask him to leave without hurting you or worse. If he would listen to you.

He seemed curious, but also cautious. His demeanor bristled slightly, but his posture remained mostly relaxed. "Depends on what it is."

Your eyes went downcast, feeling that the answer to your plea would be instantly rejected. You just wanted your home back, to be alone, to feel safe in your own house. That wasn't possible with his presence. Your lips tightened and you inhaled a breath as you steadied yourself to meet his gaze.

"Would you help me get some of my blankets down from the closet upstairs? You're... taller, so..." you mumbled, fumbling with the hem of your shirt where your eyes ended up looking.

Harry seemed taken aback by your request. Clearly, it wasn't what he had expected, though, what he had expected was probably true. It was just that you couldn't say the words out loud.

"Ah... Alright," he accepted, standing from his seat.

You walked past him, heading toward the staircase and he followed behind. As you reached the closet after opening it, you turned toward him, the closet light giving you a much clearer view of the features defining his face. He was actually somewhat handsome and you found your cheeks burning to your horror and chagrin, instantly looking downward before moving out of his way. You hoped he didn't notice.

He did.

The extra quilts and blankets were gathered from the upper shelves, bundled in his arms and he faced you, waiting for your directions.

"There's a couch downstairs," you said as you took a few steps to descend the staircase, looking back for a moment to see Harry still in front of the closet.

"Your bed," he responded simply.

"My... bed?" you repeated with risen brows, suspicious feelings swirling about in a vortex that gave you a bit of nausea. He couldn't be implying that he wanted to sleep in your bed while you were the one to sleep on the couch?!

Some kind of smirk crossed his features as he turned to your bedroom door, gently nudging it open with his boot. Before you could even get a word of protest in, he had already invited himself in, the bundle of fabrics now rested on your bedside.

Harry motioned for you to join him with beckoning fingers, you, feeling sickness in the deepest pit of your stomach, preying silently to any such beings if they even existed to please protect you from this might-be monster. You were shaking again, timidly entering what used to be your safe haven to hide from the world.

"W- Why...?" you asked before you could stop yourself, your lip quivering as your arms wrapped around yourself to try and bring yourself some comfort.

"Go on." He gestured to the covers, peeling them from their respective corners until there was space for you to slide beneath them. This time he wouldn't answer your question and you were too afraid to ask again. In fact, you were almost too afraid to even move, afraid that you were willingly slipping into your shackles of death. Or worse.

You hesitated, but he waited.

Slowly, despite still being in your basic work clothes, you obeyed and sat at the edge of your bed, maneuvering your body beneath the covers after kicking your shoes off. Harry tucked you in until you were all snug. You grimace, hoping with all your might that he doesn't try to sleep in your bed. You wished he would just go away so you could at least put on your pajamas. The fact that he was actually forcing you to go to bed made you feel angry, but your fear had your brain too overloaded to act out on it.

"Comfy?" he asked in an unusually gentle tone as he grabbed the edge of one of the extra blankets, draping that one over you as well despite there already being two upon you.

You hated that you wanted to keep asking why, why, why, to every single thing that he did. You hated it even more than despite asking, you weren't going to get an answer.

Harry leaned closer to your face, you shrinking back into your pillow. Your reaction kept him from going any nearer.

"Are you comfy?" he asked again, his tone even quieter than it had been before. You nodded feebly. Why was he such a weird person? Was he a killer? A rapist? A thief? You felt so confused and scared, it showed visibly on your facial expressions. Maybe sleep was the best option after all so that this nightmare would be over with faster.

He sat down next to you, his body touching yours with the barrier of blankets between you, but you could feel his weight on the edge of the bed, the warmth of it.

"Not gonna hurt you," he uttered aloud suddenly, his fingers intertwined with themselves, rested loosely on his lap. "Not unless you want me to."

Your eyes widened as you attempted to get your breathing under control, sharply inhaling through your nostrils when the words left his mouth. Not unless he wanted you to? Why the hell would you want him to? Is he insane?

"I- I don't want you to," you responded very quickly, a little too quickly, to which he chuckled somewhat heartily. It surprised you. He was definitely a weird person.

"I know," he said quietly, never once looking in your direction, only staring straight ahead through the maw of your open bedroom door. "...I know. So, I won't. No reason to. Thank you for your hospitality."

You wanted to snort at that. Hospitality? Forced to be kept as a hostage in your own home felt more accurate to you.

"...Well, your forced hospitality, that is," he continued with a slight chuckle, almost as if he read your very own thoughts. The fact that he laughed at your state of distress made you feel sick.

"I guess I should say, thank you for cooperating."

You weren't sure how to respond. You had not a clue what sort of person he was, or what his intentions were. He certainly wasn't going to relay that information to you. Or perhaps he would, if you asked nicely, you remembered...

"Um. Could I... change into my pajamas?" your question came out in a tiny voice, feeling humiliated with the fact that you were asking for permission, but also the fact that you were almost very sure that he wouldn't leave the room either to give you privacy.

"I did ask if you were comfy," he replied, not turning toward you, but his eyes were watching you now. You stayed silent, unsure of what that answer was supposed to mean. He was the one who forced you to get in the bed! He then stood up, taking a few steps before standing right outside of the doorframe, shutting the door behind him. You heard no further footsteps, so he was still standing there.

You were surprised that he granted you privacy and wasn't going to absolutely take advantage of you while making yourself even more vulnerable in front of him. A tiny bit of relief washed over you. You knew you weren't much to look at anyways, silently very thankful that you weren't super conventionally attractive. Or else he might have tried to take advantage of you already.

Without wasting time, you quickly went to your closet, grabbing an oversized shirt and some bottoms to switch into, throwing your work outfit into the closet. Usually you wouldn't wear so much to bed, but there was no way you were going to be in just your underwear, dangling bloodied meat in front of a circling shark. No way.

Sliding back under the covers, you settled into your cozy bed, feeling more relief especially with just being alone, for the moment, pretending it was an ordinary, normal night and there wasn't a serial killer right outside of your door.

He came back in, shattering your perfect shortlived fantasy. To the other side of your bed is where he stood this time, then, to your absolute horror, he began to undress. You turned over quickly to face away, your heart hammering away you almost thought he could probably actually hear it. You felt it in your ears as they burned.

The weight of your bed shifted, the feeling extremely unfamiliar, with the weight of someone else's body occupying the space right next to you. You had never slept next to anybody, nor had you ever slept with anybody. You'd never even kissed anyone. Your face felt overbearingly hot.

You were too afraid to speak.

Harry was shuffling around a bit, perhaps to make himself comfortable, but you felt something pressing against your back, down to your legs. It wasn't his body, you knew, as you peered over your shoulder for a second to see that he was using the extra blankets to build a barrier between the two of you. Your brows knit together, the confusions so overwhelming already.

He seemed rather calm and undisturbed, but both of those words felt inaccurate. Emotionless felt more correct to you.

"It's been so long. Please allow me to have this selfish comfort."

That was all he had said before he settled on his back next to you and you couldn't understand what he truly meant by it at all. The comfort of sleeping next to somebody? The comfort of a bed? What kind of life had he lived? You understood on some level that bed was definitely the most safe and comfortable place to be, but your space felt so invaded, so stifled. You had never shared it before.

A silence loomed between you and him for several long minutes, perhaps even longer,  until you finally felt the courage to move around enough to turn off your lamp, darkness befalling the room. You heard Harry suck in his breath once the darkness engulfed you both, but then silence. There wasn't a chance that you would fall asleep. Not at all. The silence remained, but your mind was speeding through thoughts one after the next. So fast, that you had forgotten something.

"What happened to you, Harry...?" you whispered softly after several moments, unknowing if he had fallen asleep or if he lay awake just as you were. You hoped he was asleep. Though, you imagined he definitely wouldn't allow himself to do so until he knew for sure that you were first, which is why you spoke.

Your back was faced to him, but you felt his weight shifting around, something draped over your side on top of the blankets. His arm. A noiseless breath left you as you felt the blankets being pressed closer against your backside. You had become the little spoon.

Your face felt like it was on fire and your skin wasn't even touching one another, blankets covering everything in between. Your voice felt stuck in your throat.

Harry kept snuggling closer to you, despite the barriers between you both, almost clutching onto you. You could barely, just barely, feel his breath on the back of your head. He could smell the scent of your shampoo. The scent of you, your room, everything. It was driving you mad.

"I escaped," he uttered aloud, his hold on you growing more tight as your confusion swelled even more. "I was the only one who made it out alive. I was stuck down there, in the dark, for so long... so long..."

You had no idea what the hell he was talking about, your mind derailing in several different directions all at once. A man was holding you, something you'd never experienced aside from being hugged by your father, your heart on the verge of exploding in your chest and he wasn’t making any sense.

"I had no choice," he continued softly, his voice strained as he went on. "I had to do it... I thought I was going to die down there. I had to kill them. I had to... I had to eat..."

Your breath was audibly shaking now, your chest heaving and this strange man holding onto you even more tightly before it finally clicked in your mind, the vague words he was saying, admitting that he had killed another human, other humans. And he had eaten their flesh without any other choice, stuck in the dark deep underground.

"You were trapped in that mine accident," you whispered suddenly, the pieces finally coming together for you in your mind. He wasn't a serial killer, he was a man caught in an unfortunate accident, forced to survive in conditions not meant for any humans...

"I- I'm sorry..." you continued, unsure of what to do from this point on with this new realization.

Harry said nothing after that. He only clung to you as if it were his last life line connected to his sanity. You felt horrible for him. It wasn't that it made anything he was doing okay, breaking into your house, holding you hostage essentially, getting too close to you. But you couldn't imagine the horror of being trapped in a mine with no food, no water, no light... Lost and unsure if there would ever be a way to get out. Accepting that you may die alone, in the dark.

You thought you had felt true fear when you saw Harry for the first time in his actually very horrifying outfit. You realized then that he had seen, felt and done things that you didn't even have the capacity to imagine. You felt empathy for him. No wonder he was such a strange person... How could anybody be normal after such a traumatic event?

Even though the circumstances were unusual and terrifying, a feeling within you began to stir. You wanted to help this man. Despite that he was invading your personal space, he hadn't actually molested you nor did he attempt anything of the sort.

"Please tell me everything is okay," he pleaded quietly without warning, his voice hoarse as it cracked slightly, his face burrowing deeper into the pillows, thus closer to your neck. This poor man was losing his grip and you felt helpless to do anything to bring some ease.

"Everything... Everything is okay. Okay? It's okay. You're okay now," you complied with his request, trying your best to not sound so scared while you were speaking, but your voice still shook just a bit. Harry's body heaved suddenly, startling you, as he then clutched onto you, the blankets balled into his fists.

There were sometimes noises that came from him that you couldn't really identify. It kind of sounded as if he were crying, but you weren't sure.

He was.

He had no one. He had nothing. He was wanted for murder after he managed to escape from the collapsed mine. He did what he had to do in order to survive, during an accident that was no one's fault but the managers that oversaw the project to begin with and their carelessness. Yet, he was the one who was blamed. All he wanted was to be told that it would be okay. He just wanted to feel like someone understands, but everyone looked at him with evil eyes.

You were the only one he had come across that hadn't.

He held onto you. He cried into your backside, for how long, you had no idea. He was desperate for the feelings to come to an end. He would never be the man he was before. He could never return to the life he had before. "Harry" was only a cannibalistic murderer now. His identity was stripped from him when he emerged victorious in fighting tooth and nail for his very life.

Only overjoyed to breathe fresh air, to see the sunshine he thought he was never see again, while people he used to know as friends and coworkers leered down upon him like he was just some petty serial killer.

You had no idea.

Somehow, you eventually fell asleep, despite being in a situation you'd have never come up with in your wildest of dreams. The rays of the suns light filtered through your curtains as you began to return to the waking world. All you could see in your blurred vision were the specks of dust lazily floating around in front of the window.

An arm was still holding onto you, you realized. You attempted to not move too much, turning your head to see if Harry was awake. He wasn't. His side rose and fell gently with his slumber, still as close to you as he was in the hours of the night. He needed your comfort and you provided it, even despite the very unusual set of circumstances.

Under his eyelashes, his lower lids were raw and red, a bit of dampness still visible as darkened spots on the fabric of your pillowcase. How late had he remained awake? You imagined it may be hard for someone like him to sleep in the darkness due to what he had experienced. He may not have slept at all until the faintest of sunlight came through the window.

Your assumption was correct.

You waited for at least an hour, but Harry wouldn't budge. He never even stirred when you very gingerly moved his arm and slipped away from him. For a moment, you stood by the bedside, observing this man who slept in your bed. Gently, you moved the blankets to cover his shoulders. As you were closer to his face, you let your fingertips brush softly against a few locks of his hair that had stuck to his forehead during the night.

Harry woke many hours later, suddenly jerking upright when he realized that you were long gone. As he came into your view at the bottom of the staircase, you were preparing some sandwiches for lunch with cooked vegetables and such on them. No meat, as you decided that might be insensitive for someone like Harry to smell it cooking.

"Oh, good morning, Harry," you greeted him in the most normal way you could think of, your face immediately flushed as he was in nothing but his pants. Quickly, you put a plate down on your kitchen table with the offering of food. "Hungry?"

He looked completely stupefied with disheveled hair and obviously just woke up, blinking several times at you as you attempted to make some kind of genuine smile before you turned away from him, continuing to go ahead and begin making your own meal. The first sandwich was actually for yourself, but you hadn't expected to see him just yet, so you decided to give it to him instead.

"Ah. Uh. Sure," he replied as he sat at the table, seemingly astounded by everything around him, staring down at the plate. "Good... morning?"

"It's afternoon now, but it's alright," you replied, your heart doing a million flips per second because of how he was an intruder who broke in last night, who terrified you to death, but now you were feeding him and somewhat actually concerned for his well-being. What a bizarre and rapid change of pace.

You both ate in silence after you joined him at the table, continuing in this fashion until you both finished. His satisfied expression told you that he was highly appreciative of it. You stood and took the plates to the sink.

"Hey."

You turned toward him with your head slightly tilted attentively, waiting for him to go on.

"...Thank you," he murmured, his eyes usually sharp as darts seemingly soft at this moment, not piercing into your own, but slightly downcast. Awkwardly, he shuffled his feet together.

"It's okay," you replied, resuming the dishes that you were cleaning and putting away, going on to do the same with the food you had laying out on the countertops. As you completed your tasks, you turned to Harry, holding you hands together in front of you, your lips pressed into a line as you thought about the words you wanted to say. You inhaled.

"Harry..." you began softly, your thumbs messing about with one another while he was watching you, awaiting for what you had to say, though he seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

"...You can stay here, if you want to. I- If you have no where else to go, I mean. I- I know that's weird because you... broke into my house, but..."

He blinked several times, clearly not expecting this conversation at all. In fact, he had most likely expected that you'd say, alright, you had your fucked up fun in my bed, now get the fuck out. But no. It wasn't that at all. You felt pity for him. You wanted to help him, truly. He had suffered great misfortune. And he hadn't hurt you.

"I shouldn't take advantage of you more than I already have," he responded, knowing damn well that it wouldn't be right for him to stay with you after the events of yesterday. All he had wanted was somewhere to get away from the cold. It wasn't exactly his plan to find a woman in an old house distanced from all other homes in the area.

You approached nearer to him, holding your own arms around yourself.

"I- I- I'd like it, if you did," you somehow found yourself pleading for him to reconsider, your face lighting a shade of pink in your chagrin. "Y- You said you would do anything if I... if I asked you nicely. So... please stay...?"

He chuckled a bit, exhaling through his nose. Maybe he would reconsider, but you couldn't read his expression as he let himself get lost in his own thoughts and considerations.

"Guess you got me there, huh? I'll take your offer. Thank you for your hospitality, again," he responded, more gently this time around. You smiled a genuine smile, nothing forced or faked, elated to hear that you could assist someone in need once more. He reflected your smile with one of his own.

"...Don't wear that mask again though, it really frightened me," you mentioned as you nodded toward it still sitting on the table where he had left it the night before. You found that you kind of liked his laugh when it happened, as it did now.

"I don't even know your name," he said, not outright asking for it, but inquiring for you to give that information to him freely.

And so you did.

"Is that so? That's a very beautiful name," he uttered quietly, seemingly almost to himself, but you still heard him. "I really like it."

You blushed and thanked him. You were feeling some type of way and it was disturbing but not unwelcomed, only foreign to you. You now had someone to live with, for the first time in some several years. Well, for however long Harry would like to stay. You found that you were okay with him overstaying his welcome for as long as he would like to.

And he most certainly did.