#bless him he's a little scatterbrained

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be. 

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

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tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 162 }

moonlight.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

sung jinwoo walked into the hunter association building for a scheduled meeting with the chairman. while taking casual strides into the building, he let out a yawn. jinwoo believed that nothing out of the ordinary would happen today-

only to be proven wrong the moment he opens the double doors to the conference room as a sudden weight was felt shoved against his chest.

had jinwoo been any normal man, he would have quickly been toppled over. but thanks to the newfound poise he had gained since becoming an s-rank, jinwoo manages to steady himself while keeping an arm around the stranger’s form.

“whoa, be careful.” his voice was gentle and not at all spoken in a manner that was meant to be like a scolding. yet still, he hears the gasp and looks down-

only to be met with someone unfamiliar-

only to be met with you.

your eyes widen with surprise with your lips halfway parted. incoherent sputtering were all he could hear when you back away from him. clearly sensing your embarrassment and discomfort, jinwoo lets go of you while keeping a hand shoved into the pockets of his coat, grey eyes shining with mirth for you.

“sorry for bumping into you, moonlight! i’ll be more careful next time!”

now this was interesting.

never before had he been referred to by such a nickname before.

moonlight?

he replays the word you had uttered in your panicked state over and over again before deciding that he liked it.

ready to say something to you, he was given little time to react when you suddenly bowed down to him, “sorry, but i’m late for a very important mission!”

you end up stepping off to the side, running past jinwoo as the young hunter was left staring off at you with pure amusement in his eyes.

“ah, hunter sung jinwoo! it’s nice to see you again, come on in, there’s a few things i’d like to discuss with you.” chairman go gunhee greets him with a hearty laugh.

despite his reluctance to look away from you, jinwoo enters the conference room with chairman go. during the meeting, the chairman spoke about the hundreds of sponsorship offers he had received for ahjin guild, yet as jinwoo poured over the paperwork, not a single one of those offers stood out to him. clearly, he had you other things on his mind.

why would i need any of these deals when the system provides me with far superior weapons?

jinwoo was dimly aware of the chairman letting out a sigh before saying a name he had never heard of before.

“excuse me?” jinwoo looks up expectantly to see a smile painted on the chairman’s features.

“that’s the name of the new healer that ran into you just now. she gets a bit scatterbrained when she’s nervous, but the young woman has a good heart. ever since ms. joohee lee retired, i have seen her transfer and appearance at our association as a blessing.”

jinwoo winces at the mention of joohee, recalling back their last meeting together when she announced her retirement to him. perhaps he should figure out her address and mail a gift to her?

but chairman go’s next words was what ultimately breaks him out of his reveries, making jinwoo do a double take, “today was her first raid.”

knowing that it was your first raid fills jinwoo with a strange discomfort, his chest tightening as the urge to protect you fills his veins. “you sent her off without me?”

the chairman gives him a confused expression, “i assure you, hunter sung, that this is a low level gate; a mere c-rank. the woman is a certified a-rank healer, and i’m certain she can handle healing her comrades.”

jinwoo’s heart suddenly began to stop just then, being filled with fear as he had flashbacks pertaining to the cartenon temple-

the same double dungeon that had killed him before deciding to choose him as the system’s player.

without even thinking about it, he looks towards the exit and asks for the exact location of where the c-level gate had spawned. chairman go lets out a sigh, collecting all of the documents together into one neat pile before answering him.

“it’s in the middle of the city, you wouldn’t miss it, hunter sung.”

jinwoo thanks the chairman before making a mad dash out of the association’s building and into the busy streets of the city. as he ran, he was able to sense the gate’s power quickly dwindling as it seemed to be on the cusp of disappearing.

hm? that’s strange; is the raid already over?

within the next few minutes, jinwoo arrives at the location where the gate had supposedly been, being filled with a relief when he saw a group of hunters and you in the midst of the crowd. they each call out your name, giving you a thumbs up while expressing their gratitude towards you and your healing abilities.

in return, your expression was sheepish, and a little embarrassed, waving to your comrades as they each returned home for the day. your hand was still kept in an upright position when you finally noticed him standing a few feet away from you with a lazy smile on his face.

you appeared to be flustered now, hands now gripping on tightly to your satchel as you attempted to run away from him by going in the opposite direction-

lucky for jinwoo, he was fast enough, already able to cut off your escape as he appears directly in front of you, eyes glowing a faint hue as his lips were turned up in a smile.

“why did you start running right after seeing me?” jinwoo made sure his voice was soothing and smooth so as to not scare you away. he could see the way your eyes darted everywhere else but at him, cheeks seeming to warm up in response to his question.

“u-uhm, well, it’s because i had run into you earlier and uhm-“

“you had called me moonlight, right?”

it seems he had nailed it, for your expression became even more panicked as you tried to take several steps away from him. but jinwoo, still filled with amusement and joy, was simply having too much fun to let you go.

“come on, there’s no need to look so panicked. your nickname for me actually intrigued me a lot.” he keeps a hand behind your back, preventing you from moving away from him.

“i’m just curious about your nickname for me, that’s all.”

jinwoo had to fight back the grin and chuckle that threatens to escape from his lips (he physically had to purse them in response to your flustered state.)

“uhm, well, that i-is…” you kept stuttering the tiniest bit, even fanning your face in response before setting the palm of your hands against your heated cheeks. “i’m sorry, i’d rather not say, hunter sung.”

jinwoo didn’t like how stifling his title sounded against your pretty, parted lips, making him sigh as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

after all, he would much rather be your moonlight.

“come on, let’s celebrate.” he decides to change the subject then in hopes of getting you to relax around him.

“huh? what? did you say celebrate?”

not even giving you a chance to reject him, he places a hand behind your back while leading you into the city.

“wait… where are you taking me?”

“out to eat at this steakhouse as celebration for your first successful raid.” jinwoo admits to you with a wink and a grin, making you even more flustered in response.

“oh, there’s no need! besides, i’m a little sweaty a-and-“

“don’t worry about it; it’s more of a casual dining experience, and i’m certain no one will be opposed to a healer like yourself dining at their establishment.”

you were ready to protest once more when jinwoo could detect a low, grumbling sound coming from your stomach. a cheeky grin was felt spreading when he looks down at your abdomen. unable to meet his gaze, you fold your arms across your chest, “okay, f-fine! i’ll join you for dinner…”

knowing he had won, jinwoo takes a hold of your hand in his, weaving across the city with a bright smile on his face when he takes you to the restaurant. upon arrival, he felt a little disheartened to see how busy it was, but when the hostess saw him, he was immediately offered a private table near the back of the restaurant.

“hm, i guess it pays off to be an s-rank…” once they were both seated, jinwoo takes a look at the menu while offering you the basket of warm rolls with butter for you to munch on to help with easing your hunger. losing all of your prior shyness now, you take two rolls and place them on your plate, spreading the butter on it before taking a bite. basking in your eager moans as you ate, jinwoo couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle in response.

“is there anything in particular that you’d like to order?”

between bites of your rolls, you shake your head before swallowing. “n-no, i don’t mind having what you’re having…”

jinwoo hums in response, collecting both of the menus when the waiter comes by to take his order.

“we’ll have two 16 ounce steaks cooked medium rare please.”

the waiter nods and writes down the order, “and what would you like to drink?”

“red wine and two waters.”

the waiter then takes the menu while smiling, “got it. it will be out soon, sir.”

jinwoo was finally left alone with you, seeing the basket of rolls already half empty as you worked on what he assumed was your last roll. he smiles at you before taking a roll himself, “do you feel better now?”

“oh, yes! ah, sorry if i looked like a pig, scarfing down all that buttery bread.” you had a sheepish expression on your face now, scratching the back of your head while letting out a nervous giggle.

jinwoo shakes his head in response, “there’s no need to apologize, pig out all you want. you can always be yourself around me.”

he listens to the way you proceed to swallow thickly, not quite brave enough to meet his gaze when you thanked him. humming in response, jinwoo also starts enjoying the dinner rolls while making small talk with you, wishing to get to know you better as you both waited for your food to arrive.

and truly, jinwoo did not hold back with his questions that were strangely intimate.

were you seeing anyone at the moment?

what was your last relationship like?

what was your childhood like?

do you have any siblings? if so, are you the eldest, middle, or youngest child?

when did you awaken your powers as a healer?

what is your…

favorite food-

favorite color-

favorite song?

the moment his questioning ceased was when their food finally arrived, as two large plates steaks with mashed potatoes and broccoli were placed before them.

“well, dig in. and don’t be shy, i know you still must be starving, especially after your first raid.” jinwoo had to make sure to reassure you as he could see the way your mouth was practically salivating at the food.

“t-thank you so much!” picking up your knife and fork, you began cutting into the juicy and tender piece of steak, placing the morsel within your mouth as you let out a happy moan in response.

“delicious!”

jinwoo was filled with utter delight as he watched you eating your meal, taking casual bites of his own food, but never once straying his gaze too far away from you. you continue eating in silence, not saying a word as it was clear that you wanted to savor this meal to its fullest.

you and jinwoo continued to eat in a comfortable silence for the next hour, with jinwoo letting out a whistle at your own, empty plate. “wow, that’s pretty amazing. i thought i was the only one who could polish off this meal.”

you were in the middle of taking gulps of your iced water, setting down your glass before wiping at your lips, “sorry, it was so good… and i guess i was pretty hungry. i had skipped lunch earlier because i was so nervous about my first raid.”

“that’s understandable.” jinwoo nods while taking sips of his red wine. “just… don’t skip meals ever again, okay? your body needs it- especially now that you’re a healer.”

you nod in agreement while giving him a smile. “thank you, i’ll definitely keep that in mind… hunter sung.”

“jinwoo.” he ends up correcting you with a sigh. if you weren’t going to call him moonlight again, then he would much rather you refer to him by his first name.

“ah, what…? you’re giving me permission to call you by your first name?”

“yes.”

jinwoo leans back against his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, “is that a problem?”

you shake your head while clearing your throat, “n-no, it’s no problem at all! if that’s the case, then you may call me by my first name, too.”

when the waiter returns, he asks if you or jinwoo would like dessert, but you both shake your head at the offer. jinwoo gives the waiter his card, paying for both of the meals, which earned another smile from you.

with the dinner date completed, jinwoo places his card back within his wallet, pocketing it before casually walking beside you. you were playing with the straps of your satchel, mouth opening and closing, like you wanted to say something to him.

“the reason i called you moonlight was because your radiance is as gentle as the moon.”

your sudden words makes jinwoo stops in his tracks, feeling his heart begin to pound when he heard that nickname again-

moonlight.

his attention was fully on you now, facing you completely as he rests both of his hands within the pocket of his coat. you did not meet his gaze, clearly embarrassed as you forced yourself to tell him the truth.

“i spent some time perfecting my healing abilities because i held a deep admiration for you… you were achingly beautiful to me, jinwoo… you filled my life with such motivation and light- however, your presence and beauty wasn’t harsh like looking up at the sun, shining so brightly that it may blind me.”

you take another moment to yourself before finally meeting his gaze, eyes shining with a look akin to adoration for him.

“no, instead, your brilliance was more like that of the moon. your gentle rays was like a beacon for me… that’s why, you’re my moonlight.”

once you had finished your explanation, jinwoo felt as though his heart was floating in response. never before had such unbidden happiness filled his veins, the feeling becoming so potent that he had to take a step closer to you.

“oh? that’s why you called me moonlight?” he asks with another grin spreading across his handsome features.

“ah, yes. in my rush… i didn’t want to say your name and my secret nickname for you kind of slipped…?” you admit with a bit of a tremor in your voice.

his rich chuckle was heard echoing into the night air when he leans down, placing a hand on your chin while admitting, “to be honest, i’m glad that your secret nickname for me slipped.”

he hums a bit while brushing the tip of his nose against your forehead. you end up clinging to the front of his coat while shakily calling out to him.

“please, refer to me as your moonlight from now on.” jinwoo gives you a soft smile, taking your hand in his while pressing a kiss against the back of it.

“i can be your moonlight, and you can be my love. how does that sound?”

he basks in the way your smile widens in response to his proposition, giving him an eager nod before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“that sounds perfect to me, moonlight.”

and when he finally leans down to press his lips against yours, it was a sensation jinwoo knew that he would never once forget for the rest of his life.

a.n. - i’ve had this daydream stewing in my head for a while now, and finally decided to write it all down in a more coherent story ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ i wanted to post this real quick before spending the following weeks doing research with my professor, so please do enjoy!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[zzeraphilm]

little white lies

Shinsou Hitoshi x GN!Reader word count: 2,517 summary: shinsou and y/n's childhood dream was to become heroes, side by side. but as you grow up, reality hits hard, and sometimes lies make the pain easier to bare.

Tiny pitter pattering feet crunched the granite beneath them. Two little children, imagining their powers, capturing villains and saving the world. With their school jumpers tied around their necks, their makeshift capes fluttered in the wind as they ran around the monkey bars. 

“Ah ha! Stay back villain! The twin heroes Étoile and- Hitoshi, did you think of a hero name yet?” Y/N, the taller of the duo, snapped at the little boy beside them. 

“Uhm, not yet I’m still thinking about it.” He mumbled.

“You should do some research! My dad showed me all of the ways heroes can be named! I picked mine because it means star in French! One day I hope to be a shining star that saves people!” 

The thick head of purple hair bobbed up and down, nodding along to the ramblings of his friend. Since his first quirk manifestation, he has been scared to show Y/N his ability, brainwashing isn’t particularly associated with heroism. In Shinsou’s eyes, Y/N was blessed with the perfect quirk to become a hero unlike him. He remembers the day their quirk manifested, they were on their way to school and the scatterbrained Y/N tripped on the cracked pavement, bracing for impact they felt a beam of light pushing them upwards in the air. From their fingertips, the rays of sunlight had curved into a little cloud for them.

They were smiling ear to ear, their happiness so infectious that Shinsou couldn’t help but cheer. From then on, in class Y/N would mould the various rays of light from a lamp or fire into a multitude of objects, shapes and weapons. Their class praised Y/N, knowing their future success as a hero was guaranteed. Shinsou couldn’t continue to be petty around Y/N, his friend was quite literally the light of his life, and he just wanted to remain by their side. 

Towards their second year in Middle School, Y/N’s life took a drastic turn. Their family had to relocate out of their town, meaning Shinsou would be left for the dogs in his high school who would torment his dreams of becoming a hero alongside Y/N. They promised to continue to talk everyday, Y/N would send extensive messages, updates about their life in their new town. How they befriended many people and have started their own Hero Appreciation Club at their new school.

Shinsou buried his jealousy like second skin. He lied through his teeth like it was biological to him. Y/N knew of Shinsou’s quirk, they reassured him that despite everything, he could become an incredible hero. But with the world around him painting him to be the perfect villain to Y/N’s hero, he despised the thought of being a hero. So when on their weekly phone call to each other, as Y/N rambled about attending a hero school and how they wanted to live up to their childhood dream. Shinsou agreed, said he felt the same and promised to live up to Y/N’s wishes. That was when the lies first started. 

Shinsou got into UA’s General Studies course, his grades were excellent and the prestige of UA’s reputation around the world was enough for his parents to agree in his admission. Despite knowing that he had tried so hard to get into the hero course. It was futile, because a useless quirk as his would never work in a battlefield situation. 

Y/N succeeded in getting into the hero course at Shiketsu High School, at the news of their admission into the hero course, Y/N cheered endlessly on the phone with Shinsou. So excited to finally see their dream come to fruition. Upon asking if Shinsou held up his end of the plan, he said he did. That he got into UA. He just didn’t mention which class, so Y/N assumed that everything was fine. That they would soon be reunited as heroes. 

Being a part of the hero class meant Y/N was constantly busy, unlike Shinsou. His high school life was as ordinary as one could have it, he had thought multiple times to drop out and go to a regular school. It would’ve made no difference, yet whenever him and Y/N spoke, he felt guilty. A sticky, black tar-like feeling at the pit of this throat. He didn’t want to disappoint them. He wanted to be the boy that was always by their side, in every dream and every thought. He just wanted to be beside them again. And if that meant he had to maintain this facade of a hero-to-be, then so be it. As long as it remains just between him and Y/N. 

“Then we had to do these 2v2 fights in a hypothetical villain attack. It was crazy, I think I really got into the character of a villain!” They laughed through the screen, as they tilted their head at Shinsou’s nonchalant hummed response. 

“Toshi, how’s your hero studies been going? Do you guys have a lot of written content to cover?” 

Shinsou stopped scribbling in his notebook, he couldn’t have Y/N think that they failed to get into the hero course, and was merely a general studies student. He broke his train of thought with a cough.

“Yeah kinda. Uhh, Mr Aizawa is getting us to make notes on past rescue missions for an assignment.” He had lost count over how many lies he had said, maybe this was the 100th one but he couldn’t remember. Just as long as Y/N believes him. 

“Oh wow! To think Eraserhead would be such a strict guy. My teachers think it’s best to learn through doing, so my hands are too sore to even pick up a pen nowadays!” Before they could finish their sentence they yawned loudly. “Ah, I’m so sorry Toshi, I’ve been so tired lately.” 

Shinsou couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked trying to stop themselves from falling asleep. 

“Then go to bed stinky. You gotta wake up early tomorrow,” With a light hum and a slow nod with their head, Y/N waved him goodbye. 

Shinsou was afraid of course, if Y/N found out the truth, that their childhood friend was a disgusting liar with a villainous quirk so of course he would manipulate them into believing everything he said. His mind was full of self-sabotaging and self-despising thoughts. He could only shove his mind into his studies to cover up the screams in his head. 

News of the attack in USJ spread across the school like wildfire, the thought of a villain attack sent a shivers down the spine of every student. Of course, the news spread to the rest of the country, with Y/N spamming Shinsou’s phone with endless missed calls and messages. Shit. He was so busy lately with his studies that he forgot about Y/N thinking he was with the hero class. 

12 missed calls from Y/N ☆ Hitoshi answer me Pls Pls answer me R u okay?!?? Pick up my calls!

“Hello?” 

“Hitoshi! Where are you? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I saw the news and- oh God I can’t even- Please tell me you’re not hurt!” 

Y/N’s mind was spiralling out of control, endless visions of Shinsou hurt and pinned down by a villain flooded their mind. They felt sick with anxiety, they had cried themselves to sleep the night before thinking the worst because Shinsou hadn’t responded to them. 

“I’m okay. I’m fine, luckily I called in sick.” He mumbled. 

Relief flooded over their body, Y/N physically felt the weight of worry be lifted from their soul. 

“Thank goodness, how are your classmates? Are they recovering okay? I’m so sorry you guys had to go through that. You know can always talk to me Toshi. I know we’ve been busy lately to even talk but I’m always here for you.” 

Shinsou felt dirty, he felt disgusting for the lies that he had laid. He had dug himself in his own grave by this point. 

“Yeah, thanks Y/N. I’ve- I’ve got to go there’s some stuff I’ve got to do.”

“Of course Toshi, just message me when you get home! Stay safe.” Click. 

The two tried to speak regularly, but with the stress of their hero activities and Shinsou’s growing guilt turned resentful - they hadn’t spoken in over a month. The UA Sports Festival was fast approaching and Y/N had already been bragging to the rest of their friends about Shinsou. How excited they were to see him on the screen, hyping everyone in the room with their shining persona. Any mention of Shinsou, Y/N instantly beamed and everyone knew from a mile away how much the boy meant to them. The rest of Class 1-A at Shiketsu had their eyes glued to the screen upon the announcement of the UA Sports Festival. Y/N was busy writing their message to Shinsou wishing him luck. Despite the extensive chat history largely consisting of missed calls and messages from Y/N.

Shinsou tried to block out Y/N from his life the last few weeks, muting their messages and focusing their studies. Seeing Class 1-A at UA going about their days ignited a fire within him. He had been so spiteful of himself, for lying to Y/N about his hero journey, it only justified his own beliefs that he couldn’t become a hero like them. To then seeing the danger 1-A posed for the rest of the school, he felt cluster of emotions, ranging from spite, hatred, jealousy, envy and disappointment. Mainly towards himself. His self-sabotaging behaviour had only fuelled his disbelief over himself, seeing others succeed in the dream he and Y/N had made him sick. 

By now, he did not care for Y/N, he had become blinded by his envy. His self-hatred. His new found desire to win. 

“Guys it’s starting!” Y/N had invited their classmates and close friends to their parents’ home to watch the sports festival together. They huddled around the television screen, on the sofa, the floor and even on top of each others laps. Bags of chips and snacks messily spread across the table and multiple cups of juice were handed out. They were all excited to see the infamous Shinsou Hitoshi that their beloved classmate would fawn over. 

The silent shock that cast over the room was deafening, Shinsou walked out along with the general studies class and all of a sudden the attention was towards Y/N. It moved so fast that they barely noticed they had moved onto the next class. Nobody wanted to call Y/N’s bluff and continued to watch in silence. Each move that Shinsou took didn’t live up to the heroic version of him in their minds. Some even saw him as, villainous. Y/N didn’t speak, didn’t take a sip or eat anything. Their eyes were glued to the screen, jaw tightly locked in position and their fists balled till their skin turned white. 

The day was supposed to be a fun, class get together at their friends house to cheer for their favourite UA student. No one would’ve guessed that it was all a lie. Some of their classmates knew of Shinsou’s quirk briefly, some had no idea that he could brainwash people. So during the student-student battle rounds, they were left shocked at how unsportsmanlike Shinsou was, the way he manipulated his quirk to win. He was nothing like how Y/N described him, this boy who was full of wonder and was always determined to be by Y/N’s side. Some of the students felt sick, some of the students resembled the same kinds of people that swayed Shinsou away from his dreams of becoming a hero. Before the fight between Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou could take place, Y/N turned off the TV and walked out the room. No one tried to console them. 

Well done for today. Call me when you’re free.

“Y/N, you there?”

“Shinsou why did you lie to me?” 

His heart almost skipped a beat at his exposure. 

“I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

A new found anger filled Y/N’s voice, they screamed. “But you did! For almost half a year! You pretended to be a part of 1-A, I thought you almost died at USJ! Yet I see you on national television using your quirk like your some sort of-“

“Some sort of what?! Villain? I fought damn hard today, I’m not having you prove them all right!” 

The call cut abruptly, both Y/N and Shinsou were left aghast. Years of dreams together and years of friendship. Suddenly began to melt away. Had their feelings for each other, their dreams to be together side by side as heroes come to an end now?

Since they last spoke on the phone, Y/N became fully integrated into Shiketsu High’s hero course, ignoring the rest of the world around them. Allowing themselves to be swallowed whole by their hero activities. Despite their hard work, their mind was always elsewhere. Their last conversation with Shinsou left a bitter taste in their mouth that nothing could clean out. Maybe if they had been more understanding, they could’ve fixed everything. 

Unlike a few of their classmates, Y/N pass their Provisional Licence exam with a breeze. Only a few more steps closer to becoming a pro, was all that was driving Y/N to continue with their studies. Their endless spiralling thoughts had consumed them to the point of delusion that only a harsh voice from a certain pro-hero caught broke their train of thought.

“Are you Y/N L/N?” 

They whipped their head around to face the Erasure hero, Eraserhead. Aizawa Shota, who upon close inspection, was the older spitting image of Shinsou. Y/N cursed how the image of Shinsou followed them everywhere they turned. 

“You’re friends with Shinsou Hitoshi from UA, yes?” They gave a hesitant nod. 

“Well he reached out to me to train him, tell me. Do you think he can do it, train to become a hero?” His stagnant voice held no indication of hope nor malice. So this was Class 1-A’s teacher.

Y/N could only recall the memories of their childhood with Shinsou, where despite his smaller frame compared to other kids, his slight stammer as a child. He would always stand up for Y/N no matter what, he would always hold their hand whenever it would get dark sooner than expected. How Shinsou would always give them the other half of his candy to make sure that Y/N would always have something to eat or smile at. How no matter what Shinsou would be by their side, even if they were apart, the spirit of him was always leaning over them. Y/N knew, from the very first day they met him, that Shinsou was their hero.

“Yes. I know he can become the greatest hero, because he’s always been mine.” 

[ozziesjester]

grumpy bear and birthday bear for whoever wants to answer ^w^

(i haven't talked about my welcome home s/i here yet , but he's a butterfly that owns a bakery in the neighborhood !)

"You're talkin' about Bug, right? I suppose I wouldn't mind answerin' this."

grumpy bear 🌧 - who's more of a pessimist -- you, or s/i?

"Ah, hmm... I wouldn't say either of us are particularly pessimistic! But if I had to choose, I'd have to go with... uh.... probably myself, honestly!

He's always lookin' on the bright side, no matter what goes wrong. I've walked into his bakery to him coated antennae to toe in flour and he's still wearin' the biggest smile I'd ever seen! Talk about exemplary customer service, heh.

As for me, I think I tend to sweat the little things a bit too much."

birthday bear 🧁 - how do you usually celebrate s/i's birthday? do you throw them a huge party with all their friends, or do you prefer to keep it between the two of you?

"In the Neighborhood, we go a little crazy for birthdays. I'm not the one to plan them -- that's usually left to Julie and Sally. Everyone gets invited and it becomes a day-long event.

Bug's the one that makes the cakes for everyone else, so when it comes to his birthday, Julie and I take on the cake baking. It'd be unfair to ask him to work on his birthday! But... well, I'm just a touch too clumsy to do it the same way he does, and Jules is too scatterbrained to follow the recipe properly.

It's the thought that matters, though! He usually seems pleased with whatever we do for him, bless his heart. The cake could be a pile of batter and he'd still love it."

[murphnturf]

intro. ╲ KIERAN MURPHY. CON ARTIST. THE SYNDICATE.

BASICS

NAME: Kieran Murphy

NICKNAMES: Murph, Kiers, Special K

AGE/D.O.B: Age 34 | 12.10.1988

GENDER/PRONOUNS/SEXUALITY: Cis Male | He/Him | Pansexual

HOMETOWN: Dublin, Ireland

AFFILIATION: The Syndicate

POSITION: Con Artist

EDUCATION: Secondary School

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Divorced

CHILDREN: N/A

POSITIVE TRAITS: Gregarious, Debonair

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Scatterbrained, Impulsive

QUICK FACTS

(tw: drugs, alcoholism) 

Growing up in Ireland, Kieran got into a bit too much trouble with the law and with his peers, swindling all the lads around him for anything of value

He realized from a young age he was pretty good at it and decided to capitalize on his talents full-time

Though he wouldn’t label himself as a grifter (instead likening himself to a really bad car salesman), that’s precisely what he is. He picks out his mark, worms his way into their life, and bleeds them dry

Unfortunately for Kieran, he is terrible at picking them

He has snorted, drank, smoked, and tried just about every drug he could get his hands on

The man lives with a carefree attitude, very rarely worrying about finances or keeping a roof over his head; it’s so easy for him to try and charm his way into people’s lives

Speaking of charm, he was a cult leader at one point

He’s left-handed, doesn’t know how to ride a bike, and has a particular fondness for birds and small dogs. Also, the occasional cat

He dresses as lavishly and as provocatively as possible. Of course, this gets him a lot of stares, but he loves the attention

BIOGRAPHY

Born in Dublin, Kieran grew up in a relatively average household with his failure of a musician father, and his mum, a schoolteacher

His poor parents struggling to make ends meet gave little attention to their wayward son. His father was a deadbeat alcoholic, and his mother just didn’t have the time to spare

Being as unruly and attention-seeking as he was, his parents eventually sent him to live with his old aunt Fiona at the age of 15 in London, who was far from lucid, bless her soul

Fortunately for him, his aunt thought he was his dad and seemed to think they were living in their old childhood home instead of her rundown flat in Hackney. He used the opportunity to try and make a name for himself instead of attending class like all the other good schoolchildren

Up until 18 he worked the odd job until he’d befriended an ex-pat American woman, 7 years his senior, and married her. He convinced her the life they would build together when she returned stateside would be everything she ever dreamed of, and so, several years later, they returned together to California

Whenever anyone asks how he managed to get a green card, he states he sought political asylum in America on account of ‘the potato famine’ in Ireland

By 25, all his hard work had finally paid off. And by 26, one year after living in America, he was divorced. Nobody had told him how difficult it would be trying to build a life for himself here

Determined to live out his sole dream of living a rock n’roll lifestyle, it was then he used up all his savings to buy a minibus, cruising across the West coast and picking up stragglers along the way

He began looking into establishing a non-profit religious organization that would allow him to become tax-exempt, giving him the perfect opportunity to rake in tons of money while never paying a cent to uncle sam

His ‘organization’ did not hold. His followers eventually exposed him as a fraud, causing him to make a quick getaway to Mexico before the authorities could get involved

Only when things quieted down did he return. He completely changed his game, deciding to capitalize on the health & wellness industry instead. With all the barefoot, bohemian, goat yoga fanatics that LA had to offer, he finally felt he’d found his calling moonlighting as a Yoga instructor and scamming many Angelenos out of their hard-earned money 

But eventually, like most of his business ventures, things fell apart, causing him to drive cross-country in his minibus in pursuit of other opportunities. Namely, New York.

His involvement with the Syndicate wasn’t always so peachy keen, as he’d obviously made an attempt to scam the wrong guy. He was sure he was done for until he’d managed to convince some of its members that he could prove useful with his cons, given the ease with which he works to build trust and cultivate relationships. Thankfully, he was given a chance.

Kieran is under no illusion of the precariousness of his situation, knowing the rug could get pulled out from under his feet at any moment. As a result, he is working hard to successfully pull off a con that will prove him an invaluable asset to the gang

WANTED CONNECTIONS

MARKS (AKA VICTIMS): Anyone who paid Kieran for his services that he ended up overpromising and underdelivering on. Anyone he’s swindled. Anyone who he happened to use for information or gain their trust to successfully pull off a con

FIXERS: Friendly police officers or political connections that help ensure his scams run smoothly

THIEVES/HACKERS: No con is successful without all its players working in tandem. No further explanation is needed on this one

EXES/FLINGS: He’s pissed off, manipulated, and screwed over so many exes they’re all beginning to blur together into one angry mob

FOLLOWERS: Being he was a cult leader at one point, he probably still has some poor lost soul still wrapped about his finger somewhere

MORE SOON.

[kiermurphy]

✽ . ˚ &. 「 ROBERT SHEEHAN. 34. MALE. HE/HIM. 」 KIERAN MURPHY occupies LEVEL FOUR: #405. you'll know THE SAGITTARIUS is home if you hear send me on my way by RUSTED ROOT blasting through their speakers. the YOGA INSTRUCTOR has been living in wisteria for 2 WEEKS. since then they've built a reputation for being lively and scatterbrained, typical for THE VAGABOND.

■ BASICS ■

NAME: Kieran Murphy

AGE: thirty-four

GENDER: male

PRONOUNS: he/him

SEXUALITY: pansexual

HOMETOWN: dublin, ireland

EDUCATION: secondary school

OCCUPATION: con artist yoga instructor

tw: drug mention

■ QUICK FACTS ■

Growing up in Ireland Kieran got into a bit too much trouble with the law and with his peers, swindling all the lads around him for anything of value

He realized from a young age he was quite good at it, and decided to capitalize on his talents full-time

Though he wouldn’t label himself as a grifter, that’s exactly what he is. He picks out his mark, worms his way into their life, and bleeds them dry

Unfortunately for Kieran, he is really bad at picking them

He has snorted, drank, smoked, and tried just about every drug he could get his hands on

The man lives with a carefree attitude, very rarely worrying about finances or keeping a roof over his head, it’s so easy for him to try and charm his way into people’s lives

Speaking of charm, he was a cult leader at one point

He’s left-handed, doesn’t know how to ride a bike, and has a special fondness for birds and small dogs. And the occasional cat

He dresses as lavishly and as provocatively as possible. Of course this gets him a lot of stares but he loves attention

■ BIOGRAPHY ■

Born in Dublin, Kieran grew up in a relatively normal household with his failure of a musician father, and his mum, a schoolteacher

His poor parents struggling to make ends meet gave little attention to their wayward son. His father was a deadbeat alcoholic, and his mother just didn’t have the time to spare

Being as unruly and attention-seeking as he was, his parents eventually sent him to live with his old aunt Fiona at the age of 15, who was far from lucid, bless her soul

Fortunately for him, his aunt thought he was his dad, and that they were living in their old childhood home instead of her rundown flat in Hackney. He used the opportunity to try and make a name for himself instead of attending class like all the other good schoolchildren

Up until the age of 18 he worked the odd job until he’d befriended an expat American woman, 7 years his senior, and married her. He convinced her the life they would build together when she returned stateside would be everything she ever dreamed of; and so, several years later, they returned together to California 

Whenever anyone asks how he managed to get a green card, he states he sought political asylum in America on account of ‘the potato famine’ in Ireland

By 25 all his hard work had finally paid off. And by 26, one year after living in America, he was divorced. Nobody had told him how difficult it would be trying to build a life for himself there 

Determined to live out his sole dream of living a rock n’roll lifestyle, it was then he used up all his savings to buy a mini-bus, cruising across the West coast and picking up stragglers along the way

He began looking into establishing a non-profit religious organization that would allow him to become tax-exempt, giving him the perfect opportunity to rake in tons of money while never paying a cent to uncle sam

His ‘organization’ did not hold. His followers eventually exposed him as a fraud, causing him to make a quick getaway to Mexico before the authorities could get involved

Only when things quieted down did he return. He completely changed his game, deciding to capitalize on the health & wellness industry instead. With all the barefoot, bohemian, goat yoga fanatics that LA had to offer, he finally feels he’s found his calling 

If hired as a Yoga instructor he will teach it - but his fees are exorbitant. Luckily for him, LA is full of people where money is not an issue

[ask-marcelinethegotherene]

“I mean, could you imagine what I could’ve looked like? That was a stressful choice! I just couldn’t see myself as pink and fru fru or with a giant fishy tail.”

Benji pauses in thought again. “...I could’ve been cute as a Glaceon though.”

“By the way, what’s a ‘fusion’? My ma was an Espeon and pa was a Lopunny~”

( @sometimes-twileon​ )

[creepycassidy]

Hi yes! i meant how alternate albert would react to reader feeling jealous and insecure in their relationship.

Yes!! Of course!! I hope you don’t mind that I set the scene a little bit (this turned out longer than expected)

also lmao at my use of a gif but there’s not enough content for what I would consider “Alt Albert” to look like aka without the mask 😭 I swear I’m about to start using Arthur Harrow as a fc for him

-

Alternate Universe!Albert Shaw x Jealous Reader - HCs

-

Warnings: None

-

Read below the cut! ⬇️

Honestly, Al doesn’t do much to make you jealous!! (On purpose, at least)

He doesn’t really have friends or people he’s close to other than you and Max (sorta) and he’s never been one to catch someone’s eye.

Sometimes he can get a bit chatty though, but it’s innocent. He likes to talk a lot and tries to be friendly. He’s a magician and he works in retail. It’s basically his job to be charismatic. He can also be incredibly scatterbrained at times.

So, Al would be absolutely oblivious if someone other than you was flirting with him.

It does happen from time to time though, mostly with a single mom at a child’s birthday party here and there. He’s good with kids, can you really blame them?

They usually saunter up to him, giggling at his jokes and batting their lashes as they give compliments and ask questions about the performance.

“Oop, eyeah, no…I can’t tell! Magician’s secret!Would you like to see another one, though?”

He’s totally blind to their true intentions.

So, if you started acting funny after a particular party, Al would be so confused to say the least.

“Hey…hey, (Y/N). What’s up? I think we did pretty good today! Did you see the kids’ faces when Snowball came out?” He’d ask, giggling as he tapped you on your shoulder on the way home.

Your unusual silence would be deafening for him, and he’d take it as a hint to quiet down for once.

Al would spend the rest of the night worried and unable to focus on anything as he’d rack his brain for what he might have done wrong.

He always jumps to the worst conclusions.

That doesn’t mean he’d exactly leave you alone, though.

Throughout the night, he’d silently perform little acts of service for you like heating up your dinner and wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

He’d sit on the other end of the couch, glancing at you through misty eyes. He wants to reach out and touch you so badly, but keeping himself at a distance is an act of service, too.

If you were still silent when the two of you went to bed that night, Al wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore.

He’d roll over, brushing the hair from your face. “Are you- um, did I do something bad?”

When you come clean about why you’d been acting so strange, he’d feel like such an idiot for not realizing.

“Jealous…? Please, don’t be upset at me, but I don’t really get it…Why?”

Even as you explained yourself, Al wouldn’t quite be able to wrap his head around the fact that you felt jealous or insecure over him.

You’re so wonderful! And gorgeous! And he sees himself as such a fool. It’s a blessing to be loved by you, in his eyes.

Al would scoot closer as he sat up in bed, looking at you incredulously.

“Sweetie pie, I- I don’t even look at anyone else. I don’t know where you got that idea but y’know if anything I should be the one worried…”

He’d be so sincere in the way he speaks to you, his eyes soft and understanding.

“I’m a big ol’ goof but not that big! Pinkie promise, okay? I never ever, ever break those.” Al would reassure you as you linked pinkies and he rubbed his nose with yours for a bunny kiss.

“I love, love, love you bunches, silly.”

Al would hold onto you extra snug that night with his face pressed into your neck while you spooned, not letting go of your hand as he slept.

In the future, he’d try to be extra aware of things that might bother you.

He was already super clingy with you, e.g., holding your hand everywhere you go. This would prompt him to become a little extra affectionate, though.

Catch him trying to introduce you to everyone new he meets.

He’d tug you over by your hand, proudly proclaiming just how wonderful you are.

“This is (Y/N)! We’re sorta two funny little peas in a pod, huh?”

Al loves you very much, and he wants to know that you know it.

-

Enjoy this? Like, reblog, or buy me a coffee! ☕️

[themaribatpit]

A Return To Gotham: Chapter 1

Prompt: Target (Jasonette July) @maribat-calendar-events

Rating: T

Ships: Jason Todd/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Contains: OC children, tooth-rotting fluff, 

A/N: Sorry these are coming out at a snail’s pace, been very busy with other life stuff. We hope you enjoy it as these ideas have been in the works for a while now. - Maribat Girl

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette sat bored at the cash register at her family bakery, it had been a slow day. She watched people walk past, with a customer or two stepping in. She hoped business would pick up, she checked her watch, school should be closing soon and then they'll get a wave of customers.

Jason emerged from upstairs carrying their infant son asleep in his arms, wearing a frilly pink apron, wiping his sweat with a towel. "Have the kids come home yet?" 

Marinette chuckled as she saw her husband in a pink apron, in all their 14 years of marriage, she still never expected him to turn out like this. "Not yet, school won't be over for another five minutes." She gave her husband a kiss on the lips. 

Their child stirred and cooed in his father’s arms "Wakey-wakey, happy to see me, kiddo?"

"I'm pretty sure Louis likes you more," Marinette joked as the baby laughed in Jason's hands. 

Laughter quickly turned to cries, Jason gave a quick sniff before passing the baby to Marinette "Do you mind doing it? Customers probably don't want any surprises in their pain au chocolat." 

Marinette laughed at Jason's crude joke and brought the child upstairs for a diaper change, while Jason took over the register.

On cue, students from Collège Françoise Dupont across the road flooded in for treats and snacks. Students selected their favourite bread and cakes and queued to pay, one student however just grabbed one from the display and began eating.

"Hey! That girl didn't pay!" One student yelled and pointed.

"I live here dumbass," the girl said as she took another bite from her palmier.

Jason couldn't help but chuckle from his daughter's response "Welcome home Emma," he said with a grin. 

Emma smiled back "Palmiers are great as always," she said as she made her way behind the counter.

Emma Todd, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence, and had lived nearly thirteen years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.  

As the sudden rush of customers died down, a young boy entered all on his lonesome. There was a large backpack over his shoulder and a sketchbook tucked under his arm. “I’m home.” 

Jason greeted his son with a smile, “Welcome back Hugo, how was school?” 

“Good, can I have some macaroons?” Hugo asked politely. Jason nodded in response and gave the boy macaroons in a paper bag. “Thank you,” Hugo said as he made his way upstairs. 

Hugo Todd, clumsy and scatterbrained, eight years of age with a love of art that rivalled his mother’s love of fashion. He carried his sketchbook almost everywhere and would usually get sidetracked and draw whatever caught his attention. 

Hugo took after his mother, and little did he know, Jason kept his many drawings over the years in a little drawer in his study.  Hugo would also watch in awe as their hamster, Marron, made his way through his cage.  Emma took after Jason, and in more recent years he pretended not to notice his copy of Dracula being moved ever so slightly every time he saw it on his shelf.  Jason made sure to keep his copies of Madame Bovary, Les Liaisons Dangereuses, and Thérèse Raquin far out of her reach. Hugo was a gentle soul who wouldn’t hurt a fly, while Emma was brash and stubborn.  She was a lot like him that way, but Jason always hoped her sharp mind would be used as a tool and never a weapon.  

If you had told Jason over two decades ago that his trip to Paris would end with him meeting their local heroine, falling in love with her, and raising a family with said heroine, he would have laughed in your face.  Yet, here he was, as Marinette and her family welcomed him with open arms into their lives.  They didn’t know or care about his past, they treated him as part of their family.  Marinette was the only one who knew the truth about his past, considering that they first crossed paths as Ladybug and Red Hood.  He told her all about what happened, from fighting crime at Batman’s side since he was 13, to dying at 15 and being brought back to life, to becoming one of the most formidable crime lords in Gotham.  It should have had her running for the hills, but she also got her powers at a young age and took on the heavy burden of becoming the Guardian of a box full of magic jewelry.  One morning, Sabine caught him in Marinette’s room hastily putting on a shirt to cover the bandages, she gave Marinette a knowing smile before inviting them down for breakfast.  Not long after they got married, Marinette got pregnant with Emma. Considering his own sordid family history, Jason couldn’t even imagine raising one kid who wouldn’t turn out as messed up as he was, nevermind three.  Yet, so far his children weren’t afraid of him, they weren’t fending for themselves on the streets, and they weren’t going toe to toe with criminals every night.  So, he told himself he was at least doing something right.  He still kept tabs on what went on in Gotham, but he hadn’t spoken to anyone in the Bat clan for some time.  Jason had been given the chance to begin anew in Paris, and so far it worked out well for him.  

Jason was brought out of his thoughts with the jingle of the door opening “Welcome to the Jason & Marinette Boulangerie Patisserie.” 

A young woman with blue hair entered the shop and chuckled as Jason said his line, “Must you say that tacky line all the time Uncle Jason?” 

“Just for you Lian,” Jason said as he hugged the young woman. “How’s your old man? What’s that crazy asshole done now?” 

Lian sighed, “He asked Auntie Emiko to team up as Red Arse,” 

“Oh shit, here we go again,” Jason jokingly groaned.

“He misses you, keeps asking me to check up on you and make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” Lian said as she looked through the various loaves of bread and pastries. 

“Bold words for someone who once tested out their flamethrower on the shower,” Jason retorted. “Is he staying out of trouble?” Roy fought his inner demons with tooth and nail, in hopes of becoming the father that Lian deserved.

Lian tapped her chin thoughtfully, “It’s been 30 days since one of his experiments blew up in his face,” she remarked jokingly, “So, yeah I’d say he’s doing okay.” Lian pointed to the loaf she wanted, “I’ll have the Boule,”. 

“Good choice, it’s on the house,” Jason said as she packed the loaf into a paper bag. “The door’s always open for him to visit himself if he’s ever free,” Jason said as he gave the bag to Lian. “Also tell him he’s not getting any freebies,” Jason quickly added as she walked out of the shop with her free loaf of bread.

Roy was one of the only people who knew what really happened to Jason, not that he told him, he just found him.  Emma was a toddler at the time, when one afternoon, a familiar face with a hideous auburn goatee walked into the bakery.  Jason tried to keep his back turned, hoping Roy wouldn’t recognise him.  He’d managed to make a new life for himself here, and the last thing he needed was his past showing up on his doorstep once more.  He busied himself kneading the bread in the back room, while Sabine was working the counter.  

“Jason!” Sabine called out to the back room, “Give this young man a fresh loaf of pain de campagne,”

Jason swore internally, “Uh, the next batch of brioche needs a bit more kneading,” 

“Oh that's fine, Tom can help you there, can’t you darling?” Sabine asked her husband. He gave a quick nod and walked into the kitchen. 

Jason walked out with the requested loaf of bread, already packaged into the shop’s signature paper bag. Roy squinted his eyes slightly as Jason handed him the bag, “You look familiar…”

“Is that so?” Jason kept his gaze low, as he pulled his hair net down. 

“You American as well?” Roy asked, knowing the answer as he clearly heard their exchange earlier.  

“Yeah, I’ve been living here for a few years,” he said and hoped that would be the end of it. Roy would walk out of the shop and leave him to his new life.  The trouble was that he knew Roy, he’d seen him persistently tinker away at his inventions and it was unlikely that this trait of his ever faded.

“Seriously, you remind me of an old friend of mine,” he said, the goatee twitched as he smirked, “his name was also Jason, and he just kinda fell off the face of the earth one day.” “Is that so? Wondered what happened to him?” Jason asked, he looked out the window at the pedestrians strolling past. 

“Dunno, some people thought he died.” Roy shrugged, Jason wondered if he was better off having Bruce thinking he got himself killed a second time. Roy looked around to see if anyone was listening before he whispered, “Personally, I never believed it, I thought he was too stubborn to die a second time.”

Jason sighed, resigned to his fate, “Been a while, Roy.”

“So it really is you, what are you doing here?” Roy ran up and enveloped his friend in a hug. 

Jason hugged back a little reluctantly, he wasn’t too happy about an aspect of his past reemerging. But, in the case of Roy, he was willing to make an exception. 

Sabine gasped when she came back and saw them, “Two old friends meeting again, how lovely. How did you two meet by the way?” she asked. 

“Dude, what’s your cover story?” Roy whispered.  

“Um, our families were close,” Jason quickly answered Sabine. 

“Jason, go take your break, it's fine. Catch up with your friend.” Sabine shooed the two out of the bakery. 

Jason and Roy walked into a quiet alley near the bakery to talk, “So, you became a baker?” Roy said as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“Mhmm, I’ve left all of ‘that’ behind. I got married and settled down, I have a daughter too,” Jason admitted.

“Ah, so who’s the lucky lady?” Roy winked, unaware of the fact that he literally summed up his wife in two words.  

“My wife’s family owns the place, that tiny old lady you saw a moment ago is my mother-in-law,” Jason told him.

“Do they know?” Roy asked, “About literally anything that happened in your past?”

“Only my wife knows, and no one else. Red Hood has no place here, and I intend to keep it that way. I’m not raising my daughter to fight supervillains,” he doesn’t know what he would do if something bad were to happen to Emma and his veins burned with rage at the thought.  Marinette could hold her own, but neither of them planned on passing the torch to Emma.  

“Fair enough,” Roy said. 

Jason exhaled, “I’m trying to lay low, I guess you could say I took this chance to start over. I don’t want word getting out, especially to Bruce,” he explained “I sure as hell don’t want them to become a target either.”

“Hey, what do you take me for? Some loud blabbermouth?” Roy put his hand to his chest in a show of being hurt.

“Yes,” Jason responded bluntly, and there were too many people close to Roy with the power to go rooting around in people’s minds. 

“Ouch, fine point taken. I won’t tell anyone, you have my word.” Roy raised his fist towards Jason, he responded by bumping his fist. 

Jason smiled as he reminisced of his chance encounter with Roy all those years ago. Ever since then him and Lian would occasionally stop by the bakery whenever they were in Paris.  Over the years, Roy had become more and more busy, either fighting crime in Star City or helping rear a new generation of heroes in Jump City. 

“The kids and I are going for a quick walk in the park,” Marinette announced as she walked down the stairs, stroller in hand and their following behind her. 

“Alright take care,” Jason said.

That afternoon in Paris, Terry McGinnis stepped out of the taxi into the heart of the city. He gaped at the beautiful sights, the Haussmann Architecture of the surrounding buildings. “Wow, so this is Paris, it's just like the post cards.” 

“Stay focused, Kid,” Bruce said over the headset, “You’re looking for the ‘Guardian’, and our only lead is Ladybug.”  

[uncpanda]

hello! if your head cannons are still open, how about “being spencer reid’s older sibling” 🧐 thanks for your wonderful writing! 💖

I actually, really love this idea, and part of me wants to turn it into a fic? Not sure if I will, but the gears are turning. 

Warning: Parentification, references to episodes, and hospital stuff, divorce. 

You are around five years old when Spencer is born. Your mom hadn’t had her schizophrenic break yet. She has it shortly after you’re born. Spencer is an accident, a blessing, but an accident. You love him from the moment you see him; he’s your baby. That’s what you say. William tries to correct you. 

As things get worse with your mom and dad it becomes more and more true though. By the time he’s five and you’re ten you handle a lot of things for him. Even on her medication, your mom is a little scatterbrained, and your dad is absent. 

You cry for several days when your dad leaves, and Spencer doesn’t let you out of his sight. You tend to most of Spencer’s emotional needs after that; hugs and cuddles and tucking him in at night. 

Your brother is a boy genius. That means you get into some fights defending him. You’re smart yourself, but you’re not a child prodigy. You protest when your mom sends Spence to high school mainly because you know kids are going to be mean. 

You walk him to most of his classes and you even share a few with him. He eats lunch with you and your friends, and he becomes their adopted baby brother too. It provides him with a little extra protection. 

When someone tells him that he’s ruining your life by being there. He goes silent and avoids you for several days. When you find out, you yell at the person and dress them down in front of the entire school. You get detention. It was worth it. 

You graduate together. He goes off to Cal-tech, and you go to a school nearby. His school puts you in an apartment together. Your college years are spent studying and making sure Spencer doesn’t burn out. He has a PHD by the time your first four years are done. He gets several more as you move into your chosen work field. 

When he tells you he’s joining the FBI you freeze a little bit. Because Spence is your kid. You’ve protected him for this long, and you can’t protect him there. Plus your job is here . . .and Spence sees it. the war in your eyes as you quickly move into planning out where to go. He takes your hand and reassures you, “I’ll be okay. It’s time . . . it’s time for you to have a life of your own.” You cry at that and reassure him you don’t mind. He tells you, you’ve sacrificed enough.

You enjoy having a life. You’re able to go out with friends, and date and just kind of enjoy things. Then you get a call from the FBI letting you know that Spencer had been kidnapped and tortured by someone name Tobias Hankle. It’s bad. 

When you see him in that hospital room, your blood turns cold. He’s broken, and he actually let’s out a few tears at the sight of you. You brush his hair back from his face, and realize there are two other people in the room. With a hoarse voice Spence says, “This is my sister/brother/ sibling Y/N.” 

You know who these people are: Aaron Hotchner and Jason Gideon. Spencer has sent you numerous photos and letters. Agent Hotchner is the one to pull you out of the room. You understand Spencer’s letters immediately. He cares, a lot, but he tries to protect himself behind an indifferent facade. He tells you a few of the details, including the drugs. And you know that’s not good. Addiction runs in the family. 

“Is there a program we can put him in, to detox? To monitor this?” 

He hesitates, “I can arrange something. Keep it off the books.” 

“Thank you.” 

You go back into his room, and he gives you that look. You settle on the side of the bed, and he just cuddles in. He’s out in a minute. You stroke his hair, like you did when he was a kid, and Agent Gideon, the only other person in the room says, “You raise him?” 

You nod, “Yep.” 

“Couldn’t have been easy.” 

Your lips twitch, “No, but it was worth it.” 

He smiles, “He’s a good kid. He’s brilliant, and unashamed about it. You did a good job.” the unspoken, he’s going to need you now, hangs in the air. 

“I’ll start making calls tomorrow.” 

He nods, “What do you do? I can make some calls.” 

You whisper your profession, and you detail the plan to Spencer when he wakes up. You can see the urge to argue in his eyes, and he does. He lays out the obvious that he’s an adult, with several degrees, and a bunch of other things. You lay out the fact that you both have addictive personalities, and you put in too much work to watch throw everything away. Eventually, you beg. You beg him to stop things now before they can get bad. He reluctantly agrees. 

You stay in his apartment for a few weeks. Apparently, knowing people in the FBI can get you out of your lease and into a good paying job fairly quickly. You monitor Spencer from a distance, and you let out a little sigh of relief when he seems to return to normal. 

You find out from Gideon that isn’t true. He flies you down to New Orleans after they finish a case. And you meet him in a Jazz bar, where you see him and Spencer. Your brother has tears running down his face, and the moment he sees you, he apologizes. You assure him he has nothing to apologize for. 

That night, you meet the rest of the team. They’re nice people, kind people, and it’s good to know Spence has a support system. Withdrawal and detox is a bitch. Spencer is nothing short of grumpy. And eventually you have to tap out. You text Gideon, who comes over with Hotch and Morgan in tow. 

They take one look at you and Gideon orders Morgan to take you home. You give Spence, who’s pacing one last look, and head out. You don’t know agent Morgan too well, but you know Spencer is fond of him. You tell him so. He grins. 

“Did you really raise pretty boy?” 

“For the most part. Mom was able to take care of earning the money. Spencer did the bills, he was better at it, I handled everything else.” 

“I don’t think I could have done it.” 

“You’d be surprised by the things you can do for those you love. Plus Spence was a fairly easy kid.” 

“I doubt that.” 

Morgan walks you up and gives you his number. You add him to the list of FBI members you’re getting to know. After that, you find yourself being drawn into more and more team activities. You mainly find yourself texting with Hotch, Morgan, and Gideon. 

And then things happen, and you just know. 

You wait outside the cabin for him, and you can tell he surprised to see you there. He smiles, “You should have been a profiler.” 

“I don’t have the stomach for it.” 

Gideon nods, “I have to. . . “

“I’m not stopping you, and neither will he. But doing it this way, leaving a letter. It will kill him Gideon. It’s the same way our dad left.” 

“I have to cut contact otherwise . . .” 

“You’ll get pulled back in. The thing about Spence though? I raised him to respect boundaries. You tell him not to talk about cases, he’ll talk to you about numerous other books he’s read.” 

There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Give me a ride?” 

“Sure.” 

You wait outside while he explains things to Spencer. When he comes back down, he says, “Thanks for making me do this.” 

You pull away from the curb, ready to drive him home, “No problem.” 

“I always wanted a daughter. My wife. . . I was gone too much and we already had Stephen.” Your lips twitch, and when he adds, “He’s single by the way. You two would get along well.” You laugh. 

You drop him off and say, “Keep in touch.” 

“I’ll send post cards.” and then he’s gone. 

When you get back to your apartment, you have a text waiting from Spencer, “Thank you.” 

You send back a heart. 

The day Spencer tells you about the interview with the serial killer, your blood boils. He tries to stop you, he really does, but you shrug him off. You’re on a mission. Just like in high school when those jocks tied Spencer to a pole. 

You burst into Aaron Hotchner’s office with a vengeance. You, do at least close the door behind you, and then you yell, and fuss, and scream, and he takes it. He takes it all, and chest heaving you ask, “Why the hell aren’t you fighting back?” 

“Because I deserve it.” 

You blink, once twice, three times and settle in the chair, “What happened?” 

He hesitates, and you pull the card, “You put my brother in danger, tell me what happened.” 

His eyes go dark, “You’re blackmailing an FBI agent?” 

“When he’s being emotionally stupid? Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been keeping Spencer’s secrets for a while. Mom still doesn’t know it was him who broke grandma’s vase.” 

His lips twitch, and slowly, very slowly, he tells you about Haley. You listen, and when he’s done he looks at you expectantly. 

“You’re not in love with her anymore?” His eyes go wide and before he can chastise you, you say, “You love her, but you’re not IN love with her. If you were, you would have chosen her over the job. But for you . . . this job drives you. . . doing what’s right. . . trying to save everyone. . . you take it all on your shoulders. Something tells me, that if it was Jack asking you to step back, you would, but I think deep down, you’re scared of who you would be and what you would do without this job.

“And on the other end of the spectrum, Haley is doing what’s right for her. She married a prosecutor, which comes with some danger and late hours, but not like this. She’s doing what’s best for her, and you’re doing what’s best for you, and in the process I think Jack will be happier for it.”  

He hesitates before asking, “So, I’m not like your dad?” 

You cock your head a bit, “You planning to leave his life, without any warning?”

“No.” 

 “You going to stop contributing to the household?”

“No.” 

“If Haley decided to run away to the circus tomorrow, and leave Jack with you, forcing you to quit the FBI, would you do it?” 

“Yes.” 

You shrug, “You said all of that, with no hesitation,” you smile, “You’re nothing like my dad. The man was only a few miles away, and he never reached out. I never told Spencer that.” 

“He won’t hear it from me.” 

You stand up, and stare at him for a second, he stares back. You move slowly around the desk, and wrap your arms around him. He hesitates before returning the hug. When you pull back you say, “You just looked like you needed a hug.” 

“Thank you.” 

You come out of his office and find Morgan waiting for you, “Everything okay?” 

“Sometimes people just need hugs. Want one?” 

He grins, “I’ll never turn down a good hug.” 

You find your own life in DC eventually. Most of the time you’re also fielding texts from Hotch and Morgan. Spencer sends you some sort of quote every morning. But it’s nice to have a support system. 

You’re somewhat surprised when one evening Morgan stops by your place. You’re dressed for bed, but usher him inside. He hesitates before he says, “Hotch said you’re a good person to talk to.” 

“I’ve been told I’m alright.”  

You sit in silence for several hours before he alludes to his past trauma. You move to the couch then, and pull him into your arms. He just snuggles in, and when he cries, you don’t say anything. You’re just there. 

You’re invited out with Penelope, JJ, and Emily, they claim they don’t know you well enough. You’d agree. It’s fun getting out of the house, and letting loose. For once, you don’t have to be the responsible party. You wake up on a couch, hungover with Spencer smiling down at you. 

“What?” 

“It’s just nice to be the responsible sibling for once.” You squint, and a second later Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi come out too. 

“Why are they here?” 

Hotch snorts, “I was called when the four of you ended up drunk. I needed reinforcements, when it became clear that we weren’t going to be able to get you home individually.” 

You groan when Morgan opens the curtains, “MEAN!” 

Hotch passes you a water bottle, “Drink that while we go wake the others up.” 

You take a few swallows, “Where are we?” 

“Rossi’s house. Only place big enough to fit all of us.” 

As if called, Dave appears with a plate of eggs.” 

You deadpan, “I hate everyone.” 

Morgan laughs, “Didn’t you party in college?” 

Spencer shakes his head, “She was home with me. She couldn’t check my homework, the math was too advanced, but she would watch movies with me and play video games.” 

Your lips twitch, “And who still has the highest score on Mario Cart.” 

Spencer’s eyes narrow, “You cheat. I don’t know how, but you cheat!” He stomps off a second later, and Morgan stares at you. 

You shrug, “I do cheat.” 

He just laughs, and you can’t help but feel, you’ve found a home. 

AN: Part of me really wants to like continue this as a fic from here? Thoughts? I’m tempted to have reader end up with Hotch or Morgan? Additional thoughts? 

[hourcat]

Hi, HDM anon is back with more thoughts. I don’t usually write anymore, but I’m on summer break and this AU won’t leave me alone so who knows 👀

ANywAY. I have been consumed by the idea that when touching someone’s daemon you are essentially touching their soul, and what that might feel like. Specifically how Charles and Pierre might feel and how they both react and think about the interactions with their daemons differently. 

I think for Charles when Pierre has Rosalie or when he is touching Meline it is a lot like comfort - like he’s getting a big hug from Pierre’s uh, soul I guess. I think in this AU Charles associates Meline and Pierre with safety and the golden haze of working towards your dreams together, so that’s what he gets from the contact with their daemons. Pierre also isn’t the type to shy away from showing and expressing his love, so subconsciously I think his love will shine through Meline as well. For Charles, the way Meline and Rosalie are so comfortable touching and talking to them both is just a fact of the world, not something he could ever do without.

Pierre is a little different, I think for him it is more of a deep, almost religious experience (blasphemous I know), even after so many years. When they’re younger it comes as a deep assuredness that Charles is supposed to be with him in his life, which frazzles his mind a little bit. Every time Charles holds or touches Meline he goes a bit scatterbrained, which isn’t great during interviews. After 2019 though in this world things change a little bit, with Pierre being a bit more insecure about whether he deserves to hold Charles’ soul like before. It’s not longer just something they do but a privilege and a blessing that Charles lets him put his tainted, cursed hands on Rosalie. 

oh my god my beloved 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

i Literally just got teary eyed reading this oh my god oh my god yeah....yeah....charles and his inherent optimism and the way he feels pierre and meline are home™ and that they are the wind beneath his wings....whereas pierre and his constant fight to be seen considers charles and rosalie as like.....little moments of god that he worships, almost? they love each other so much, and it runs so deep, it just manifests a little different for the both of them

[jakascoo]

Congratulations for your 400🎉🎉 I would love to hear about your Jason and Kara headcanon❤️

Some Jaykara headcannons, in a completely random order.

Every couple has one member who can cook, and one who can't. Jason is the cook, and Kara will burn water. Call it an impatience thing, call it scatterbrain, call it whatever you want- Jason is the cook of the pair.

Jason has scary dog privilege, but not how people would assume. While he looks scary and intimidating outside of uniform, he’s dating/married to literal Supergirl. When she is stood beside or behind him in uniform, she becomes the scary dog. And no one would even dare try anything to him if he’s open, when she’s around.

Kara likes to leave little notes around the house for Jason to find when she has to be gone on long missions with Alex. He thinks it’s cute and secretly keeps all of them in a box under their bed. She doesn’t know this. And it will stay that way.

Jason has memorizes Kara’s nightly routine and has unintentionally fixed his whole bodily schedule to fit hers. He knows when she’s home before she even walks in the door, has food ready for them both, a bath running, and her favorite music playing so she can relax since her work is much more taxing than his vigilante work. Being a super is exhausting. She has noticed this about him. She will never stop telling Alex about it.

When Kara is having a bad day, Jason will go to Selina to ask her to bring over her hoard of cats and when Kara gets home she is immediately cuddle piled by cats and Jason. She does not move for the remainder of that night.

Kara will sometimes force Jason to stay in bed longer on his days off to cuddle since they have little to no time to ever spend alone together. She knows he can get out. She also knows he will not try.

Kara’s favourite thing about Jason is how, despite how much he claims he doesn’t do this, he will do anything to help kids he sees out on the streets. Something that’s brought them the blessing that is Boo-Gracie.

Alex and Jason keep track of who Kara agrees with during arguments. They use it as a sort of ‘who does she love more this week’ bragging contest. Maggie thinks it’s stupid. She also is the tally holder and judge.

People think Jason is the shotgun dad when it comes to his kids dating. Truth is though, neither he nor Kara are the ‘shotgun’ parent since they know if anyone hurts their kids heart, they’ll have to deal with aunts, uncles, and siblings first. That is if their kids don’t hurt their soon to be ex s/o first.

Jason is the shotgun uncle though.

[xbunnybunz]

Stride of Luck (7/?) [Dave Strider X Reader X Bro Strider]

Summary:

You find an unconscious Dave Strider in a desolate street and allow him to crash at your place, only to find out that he's come all the way from Texas to find his bro, Dirk Strider.

What seems like an easy task soon evolves into something much more complicated when you finally locate Dirk, and realize three things. One, Dave is hot as fuck. Two, Dirk is also hot as fuck. Three, they have the same taste in girls.

“i warned you about the striders, bro. i told you dog!”

Genre: Romance, Humor, Angst, Slow Burn

Author's Note: moving some stuff over from AO3 to here so my readers feel more comfy interacting with me directly <3

When you get back to your apartment, you kick open the door action-movie style and flop onto the couch face down, not really caring that Dave scrambles off it like a disgruntled cat to accommodate your faceplanting.

“Woah. Who hit you with a truck?”

You grunt and drop the grocery bags on the floor, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

“Shit. Do I look like I got hit by a truck?”

“Um. No?”

The way Dave says that sounds like he’s trying really hard to hold back the truth, but you appreciate his shitty attempt to make you feel better anyways.

“You kind of always look like this.”

…Appreciated it while it lasted.

“Your apple juice.” You speak into the cushions and point at the bags without raising your head. “And your cursed puppet Applejacks.”

“Dope.”

You hear Dave pawing through the goods beside you, seeking out his sacred fruity beverage and “healthy” sugary midnight snack. You allow your mind to wander back to the memory of a tall and rippling Dirk and sigh.

Why’d you always have to act like such a buffoon whenever you found anyone attractive? It seemed like all you were good at doing was making yourself the butt of jokes. But…

You felt your face tickle with warmth recalling his hearty laughter, replaying itself like a song stuck inside your head.

You supposed a little bit of a scatterbrain was a good thing, sometimes. It helped you get into good graces with Dirk, hadn’t it? He had even told you to come see him at work, that had to count for something. You were basically engaged now, with three children and a mediocre house you’d never be able to repay the mortgage on until you were wrinkly and sixty!

Fuck. Wasn’t this supposed to be a fantasy thought? How did debt sneak into here?

You take another deep inhale to steady your increasingly pounding mind, trying to banish the thoughts of living in a cardboard box under a bridge and return to hot-man wonderland.

Unfortunately, your deep breath was a little too deep, and you realize the couch kind of smells like ass, which makes sense, because that’s literally all it ever got until an idiot decided to faceplant into it.

“Ugh, gross.”

You turn your head and eyeball Dave, who was currently analyzing the back of the cereal box with a strange amount of concentration.

“Oh shit. I didn’t realize you cared about the nutritional facts so much. I’ll get you something healthier next time.”

Dave jerks his head up, his train of thought broken.

“Huh? Nutritional facts?” He shakes the cereal box once, then twice. “Nah. I don’t care about that crap. I was just trying to find out how to get Cinna-Mon to the caramel coaster without falling into Applejack’s sweetness-snare.”

He turns the box to you and points to what you assume is the “sweetness-snare,” given it was labelled “SWEETNESS SNARE” with thirty-point comic sans font for blind nine-year olds.

“See? This puzzle is inherently flawed due to the way these paths are constructed. There’s no way any kid can solve this and enter for the Grand Prize Sweetstakes. Not cool Kellogg’s, not cool.”

Um.

You try your best to not let the “what the fuck dude?” seep out onto your facial features, but your mouth speaks faster than your blessed little heart.

“What the fuck, dude?”

You tried. Kind of.

Thankfully Dave seems unfazed, and you assume it’s because he’s completely used to your reactions to his strange comments, given he makes at least two bizarre remarks an hour.

“Yeah man. Total douchebag move by big cooperate men.”

He shakes his head in disapproval, and you realize he hadn’t understood the “what the fuck” was directed at him. You don’t really feel like correcting him, so you change the topic.

“What about the applejuice? Did big cooperate men ruin that, too?”

Dave picks up the jug and inspects it in a way that makes you wonder if big cooperate men really did ruin apple juice as well, but the way his lips pull up at the corners reassure you that your apple juice is safe from the clutches of seedy business practices, for now.

“Not at all. This is actually my favorite brand. Thanks, (y/n).”

You take note of the way he isn’t smirking like usual, and drink in how dimples form whenever he gives a heartfelt thank you. You try to burn it into your memory, but like all the other times the smile fades back into a smirk too quickly.

“Yeah, no problem.”

You ignore the twisting feeling in your stomach.

“So what else did’ya get today? You were out for a while.”

Your cheeks redden upon remembering why exactly you had taken so long and you chew on your bottom lip, not really wanting to tell Dave how you had brought the whole circus with you to the supermarket and made a spectacle of yourself.

…But then again, it’d be nice to talk to someone about how weird you got around attractive dudes. What better option than an attractive dude, himself? You’d avoid telling him that last bit, of course.

“There was… This guy.”

You rolled over and stared at the ceiling, feeling a bit squeamish facing Dave while recalling the incident. Then out of nowhere, you hear him give a shrill giggle.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” He claps his hands together and then covers his mouth, his voice taking a higher tone. “Oh my gosh, was he like, so totally hot?”

You drag your hands over your face and moan, kicking at the air.

“Holy fuck. Dave. You scared the shit out of me. Stop, you seriously sound like drunk Shawna.”

You flop back down, defeated and flustered. You swore to god this kid had a screw loose somewhere in that pretty head of his.

Dave quirked an eyebrow at your words, drawing up a knee and resting his chin on it, your sour mood putting a dampen on his perfect impression of thirsty fangirls. You can only see him out of your periphery, but the way his head is cocked still makes you swallow roughly.

Fuck. You thought you were over this.

“Okay, like you were saying?”

You sigh, folding your hands over your stomach and trying to gather your thoughts.

“I don’t really know what exactly about it is bothering me. I guess it’s that… You know…” You shrug, but it’s barely a shrug because the couch absorbs all your movement.

Dave waits for you to continue, but when you don’t he scooches closer to you. Just a bit.

“Yeeees?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes you guys are just…” You say, thinking back to the morning. How you stuttered over your words, tripped over your own two feet, right into Dirk’s strong, firm arms. His hair, his smirk, his shades.

“… So hot.”

Fuck.

You clamp your mouth shut the moment the words leave your lips, winded by your own complete idiocy, and pray to whatever god is up there that Dave missed what you said.

You dare a glance over at him and your hopes are dashed to high hell when you see that signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Oh?”

Just one word, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. A blush rages across your face, touching the tips of your ears and dusting your neck.

“Goddammit Dave! Not you!” You hesitate a bit as your mind revvs to life, then forces you to backtrack. “Well, I mean, yes, you. But—”

Dave gives you a bit of a look through the shades. What look, you weren’t sure, but damn it all if it wasn’t embarrassing.

“That’s not what I was trying to say! Shit, this is exactly what I mean.” You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing both Dirk and Dave out of your vision and mind, and exhale, defeated.

Suddenly, there’s a touch at your shoulder. Warm, reassuring. You open your eyes and refocus. It’s Dave, he’s next to you now. He still looks amused, but the sharp edges of his facial features are softer now, more patient.

“Hey,” He says. “I’m listening.”

You let yourself relax with his words, easing up on your mind. It was just Dave. Smug, smart, sexy Dave. Weird, lost, homeless Dave.

“I just feel so out of it sometimes.” You start, sitting up and crossing your legs. “I just get so nervous around people, I can’t act like myself. All I can do is think of what I want to do, what I want to say. Then I actually try to do it and just end up looking like a huge loser.”

You rub at your forearms, suddenly feeling a lot more self-conscious.

“It’s awkward, and uncomfortable. I’m awkward and uncomfortable. I honestly don’t even know how anyone’s even dealt with me until now. Maybe that’s why I’m here, living alone.”

Dave’s brows are pulled downwards but he says nothing.

“And today I met this guy at the supermarket. He knew what to say, too. He knew what to do, he was one step ahead of me and that made my fumbling weirdness even harder to hide. Guess I’m just one big lame-O.”

You put your fingers in the shape of an “o” up to your forehead with a halfhearted grin, but it promptly slips off when you see Dave’s slightly downturned lips. Your tense shoulders drop and you bury yourself in the couch, gaze cast out the window.

The crows are making their daily rounds outside the apartment and a few have stopped, as if eavesdropping on the drama.

“You’re not lame.” Dave says, then hesitates.

You glance at him, lips making this stupid pout that you know makes you look like a pufferfish because you’ve practiced it in the mirror as a joke, and now you can’t stop.

“I mean, shit. You want me to be honest? You totally are.” He shakes his head, his hair catching in the light passing through the window. “But so is everyone. We just show it in different ways. Egbert back at home used to ramble on and on about his personal vendetta against Betty Crocker, and Bro just mass produced ass-muppets whenever he was feeling off. All I did was hole myself in my room and draw on mspaint with a 2005 acer computer mouse.”

He seemed almost reminiscent while speaking, and it reminded you again that he had left things behind to come here, and would one day return to them.

“Sappy shit isn’t my strong suit, (y/n). But even an emotionally stunted dork like me knows that ‘lame shit’ becomes ‘dope as hell’ shit when you’re with the right people. Your friends love you, don’t they?”

He looks to you expectantly and you shy away from the question. Shawna and Tracy, whom you’ve been friends with through thick and thin? You recall the scene of them leaving the club together, leaving your apartment together, and something in you grows colder.

“Yeah.” You say before you can hesitate more, “They do.”

Dave stares at you and it’s as if he’s trying to burn a hole into your face. He stares and stares until you wonder if he, for once, doesn’t know what to say.

“Yeah.” He says, after an eternity of silence. “I know Bro does, too.”

The way he says that sticks a lump in your throat, and only now do you notice the phone he had clenched in his hand since you’ve come home.

“You’re not alone. You’ve got your friends.” He says again, now more adamantly. You watch as he brings his hand up and points at his chest. “And you’ve got me. And as a resident ‘hot guy’ and a Strider, I say you’re dope as fuck.”

The moment holds for a few seconds as you scrounge your mind for appropriate responses. You want to  punch him for being so smug, want to hug him, want to make fun of him for being so damn cheesy. Even though you know part of your worries stem from something only you can settle, it feels like some of the weight has been lifted from your chest, and you can finally breathe again.

“Thank you Dave.” You say, a soft smile playing at your mouth. “And you’ve got me, too.”

Dave grins and winks at you, only noticeable from the slight pull of his cheek. “Already knew it, babe.”

Without another word, he gathers the fruits of your grocery venture and wanders into the kitchen. The crows by the window caw loudly and take off now that the show’s over. The flapping of their wings catches in the setting sun and throws shadows across your floor and table, drawing your eye to Dave’s phone, left on the table. You almost miss how he’s left it open on messages, almost miss one of his many outgoing, unrecieved texts.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timeausTestified [TT] at 5:31PM--

TG: miss u, bro. come home soon.

[measlywritingblog]

If you're doing worldbuilding wednesday:

What's the religion and mythology in your WIP like? How does it affect the culture, characters, theme, and plot? If your WIP has prominent mythology and or religion in it, what are the main deities and what are some popular myths? How to the people in your WIP feel about the deities they believe in? If there's a popular religion, how widespread is it and are there any well known leaders? Any common practices and or teachings? What about people who don't follow the most common religion, what's it like for them in your WIP? etc etc etc.... (you don't have to answer all of the questions, they're just ideas for what you can share)

*if this is a double ask and I already sent you a question for WBW, feel free to ignore scatterbrained me today :P

HOO BOY WELCOME TO MY WHOLE WIP

BIG BIG BIG POST BELOW THE CUT

Big fat TL;DR at the top though:

Big powerful magic dude wrote himself as god in order to conquer humanity, and he succeeded. Most people think he's doing a good job at being their god. Those who don't are forced to convert, be space nomads, or die. Fun times! My protagonist, being an idol of worship in this religion, has a complicated relationship with this religion that defines literally every single one of her character conflicts, so that's cool.

Soooooo, as you might know if you've been following this blog for any length of time at all, my entire setting has been conquered by one guy who instituted Himself as god!

He calls Himself the "God-Father". He markets Himself as the god responsible for every world religion prior to Him coming into power. Depending on who's asking, He's the second coming of Christ, the final prophet, the awaited reincarnation, and so on. However, connecting Himself to the old world religions has become less important the longer His reign has continued. His holy book, the Holy Word, mostly mythologizes His actual life instead of attempting to tamper with older scriptures.

(Important note: this dude is very white. Very. A lot of His interpretations of non-Abrahamic religions are laughably incorrect. The bulk of the resistance against His rule, also known as "heretics", are Hindu, amongst other traditions, of course.)

The Holy Word is primarily concerned with psychics. It offers an explanation for why humans began to manifest psychic powers, and provides standards for how humans with psychic powers should carry themselves, and how they should be treated in society. It also acts as a history book, chronicling what bits of old world history that He considers important along with recording all that's happened since the founding of the religion. He revises the book about every hundred years or so, and making sure He doesn't accidentally contradict Himself is an enormous chore (that He's recently passed down to His eldest daughter.)

The most famous parable in the book tells of how the God-Father once came upon a town being oppressed by a powerful human psychic who was using her powers to control everyone. The God-Father swooped in, disposed of the dictator, and decreed that no psychic would ever use their powers to oppress their fellow man again. The lesson taken from the parable by the bulk of the population is that psychics should remain humble servants of the rest of humanity despite their power advantage. (Most remain completely oblivious to the hypocrisy of the story. The ones who do recognize the hypocrisy, but also want to keep their lives, often point out that the God-Father is different in that He's a god, not a human, so He's allowed such rule.)

The rest of the popular stories passed around depends heavily on where in the solar system you are:

On good ol' Earth, most of the stories told about Him are small, personal, and deeply reverent. They're about little miracles- Him appearing before sick children and healing them, showing up to random worship services and personally blessing them, etc. This is because Earth is His favorite planet by far, and before things got really busy for Him, He used to spend a lot of time walking about the people. (This also means that pretty much everybody has a story about their grandma or great-uncle or whatever having personally met the God-Father, only a small fraction of which are actually true.) Earth is also home to the most dividing sects of the religion. The God-Father isn't a fan of these divisions, but given how He founded this religion by absorbing all of the others, this was inevitable and He's decided to cut His losses in trying to unite them.

On Venus, the stories almost entirely center around how He almost single-handedly terraformed the planet to make it habitable. This one is actually mostly true. Venusians are quite proud to live on a colony that exists solely due to His craftsmanship.

On Mercury, the stories are much more about His wrath. Mercury has a problem with heretics, who seek refuge in the sun's scorching heat to avoid detection. Followers who do live on Mercury are much more of the "god-fearing" kind.

The people of Mars has a complicated relationship with faith, and it's evidenced by the fact that most of their stories about the God-Father are about Him having to be absent in order to protect everybody from a greater evil. A common sentiment is not that things are better now that He's here- it's that without Him, things would be much worse. The truly resentful, though, feel that He has abandoned them entirely. Mars is the home to the "missionaries", also known as the secret police who enforce belief in the religion, and this does not help the resentment problem.

Settlers of Jupiter's moons have a much more creationist bent, emphasizing how He made the planets for humanity to explore and exploit. The primary reason for expansion to Jupiter was for mining and resource exploitation. Being the richest colony other than Earth means that serious religious devotion kinda takes a back seat, in the exact opposite (and much less "troublesome") way it has on Mars.

Saturn was the old frontier for a few hundred years, and there's a very sharp divide between the large urban population of Titan and the smaller population that lives amongst the rings, harvesting water to make oxygen to supply the star-ships with. However, both populations tend to emphasize His humanity over everything else, and particularly prize a parable from the Holy Word where He goes through a period of fasting in the wilderness.

Uranus and Neptune are closely kindred planets, being tied in their isolation. With space travel being half reliant on solar sails, it's easy to get to these outer planets but more difficult to return. A lot of people seeking a better life, usually from Mars, buy one way tickets. There's similar themes in their stories, emphasizing how much He sacrifices for humanity.

Finally, there's Pluto. Considered a planet and the true last colony of humanity, it really is the final frontier. It's also the front porch to the vast number of heretics that reside in ships in the Oort cloud. It's a lot like Mercury, except lacking the security that Earth is only two planets away- the followers who make their home in this remote location are "god-fearing" people, with plenty of paranoia about heretics hidden in the midst, and very strict rituals to try and root them out. These guys are the Jehovah's witnesses of this setting lol.

Speaking of heretics- anyone who doesn't believe in the religion is labeled a "heretic" and are considered criminals. "Missionaries" are the name of the secret police that hunt down heretics, using various unfair tactics like telepathy to root them out. It's almost impossible to be atheist (even in hiding!) on a settled planet, especially on Venus, Earth, or Mars, which is why most heretics, upon losing faith, try to flee to either Mercury or Pluto as fast as possible.

The bulk of heretics live on vast ships in the Oort cloud. They disguise themselves amongst the debris, and try their best to make a life out there. Because so few psychics go heretic (due to government intervention shenanigans,) these guys have to rely on actual technology to survive. It's difficult, really difficult, but they get to believe what they want.

There's a few major factions, most notably the Free Abrahamists and New Bharat, and they've been around since the God-Father's initial conquests on Earth. They've been bullied around for 800 years- every time they thought they'd outrun His empire, it would expand. They were (despite what the propaganda would tell you) the first humans since our current modern day to reach space, and they were the first settlers on Mars. For a little while, the God-Father was content to appease them, but He eventually broke His promise and forced them off-world.

(This is the reason that Mars has so many problems. When it was conquered, a lot of heretics who were tired of running were subsumed into the religion. However, that kind of sentiment doesn't disappear overnight, and has since festered. And when there's that kind of social instability, opportunists have sprung up to take advantage of it. Hence the "missionaries", trying to enforce the religion and the law, in brutally authoritarian ways that don't actually work in the long run.)

Going back to the technology- when the heretics first fled from Earth, they took a lot of old world culture and technology with them. Heretic ships are the one place in the universe where you'll find copies of the Bible and the Quran, but also medical imaging technology- unheard of in an empire where the usual solution to any health maladies is calling up one of sky daddy's clerics to blast you with magical healing energy. Heretics are the only ones with actual doctors, which they might be better off about.

(The ideal healthcare in this setting would be a mixture of actual doctoring with said healing magic, but in the religion, implying that you would need different/more treatment than what sky daddy is serving up will get you burned at the stake. Not that medical technology has been totally lost within the empire, but pain pills and first aid are about as far as allowed outside of secret government labs.)

Finally, finally, finally, to narrow down on my protagonist:

She's just about the only person in this setting who can get away with not believing everything the God-Father's religion is peddling. This is because it is mandated by said religion that she herself be worshipped, which heavily colors most of her interactions with other human beings. There's only three people in her life who don't put her on a pedestal, that being Father Himself, Hayes, and Omegon, in ascending order of hereticalness.

Everyone else can't legally say "no" to her, and constructive criticism is on thin fucking ice. This goes about as well as you can expect- as much as she uses it to her advantage to get away with things, it also causes serious problems. She becomes the commander of a military fleet at age 14 through pure nepotism, and nobody around her is willing to correct her terrible commanding strategy until she literally forces them to.

As a (frankly natural) result of this treatment, she has a bit of a god complex and draws a distinct line between herself and "humans", despite the fact that she's just as human as they are. She struggles with seeing people as NPCs, and sucks at getting to know new people better. Omegon helps keep her humble, but not nearly enough.

However, however, despite all this chafing making her resent the religion, Alphara still sees her dad as a god. Worship might be a strong word, but she still refuses to see the writing on the wall that He is not divine and is, in fact, just some guy with strong magic powers. She wants to believe in His goodness and His empire and His Plan. This is her biggest point of conflict with Omegon, who is a staunch atheist. It makes their interactions spicy!!

Oh, and Hayes is in the weird position of worshipping the God-Father but also being His closest best friend. So like, he should know better than to think that Father's actually omniscient and all-powerful, but he's in denial about it. This denial doesn't get shaken until Alphara's almost sort-of assassination, which kickstarts his heretic arc in the second book!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Gift of Magi; Brian May x reader

*Author’s note*

Here is yet another little special Christmas fic I have for you all. If you loved my Joe Mazzello one then you guys are REALLY GONNA ROT YOUR TEETH WITH THIS SWEET FIC. As you can see by the title, this is inspired by the beloved Christmas tale of the same name, for a year now since getting into the Queen/BoRhap fandom I’ve wanted to do this fic with one of the members of Queen but I didn’t know which one to do it with. Finally after doing some thinking and planning and realizing I hadn’t really done  a solo Brian May fic in a long time, I decided our beloved space poodle DESERVED this story. Enjoy my lovelies :)

Warnings: TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Brian’s sickness (takes place in 1974 so that’s when he had his hepatitis scare along with some other things I had read up that happened during that time), Roger’s chaotic behavior, Freddie being a loving fairy godmother (you’ll see soon enough), and fluff, fluff, and you guessed it EVEN MORE FLUFF!!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@wormzteef​

_______________________________________________________________

There it was.  The perfect gift for Brian.  The Refractor telescope, 30 power.  Don’t ask me what I just said cause I wouldn’t be able to tell you what all it does.  All I can say is that Bri’s been eyeing this bad boy for years and with an empty tripod he’s had since graduating University, he needed something to look up at the stars with (one of his classes he had to rent out a telescope and then return it to the professor once the semester ended).  

Yeah dating an astrophysicist Rockstar is one thing, but shopping for said astrophysicist rockstar is another, especially around the holidays and birthdays.  Sure he says all he needs is my love but I want to prove myself to him.  Plus I want to give him something special after the major health scare he had when he and Queen were touring with Mott the Hoople at the beginning of the year.

It was horrifying but I was there to help Brian recover from his Hepatitis scare and assure him that the band wasn’t going to replace him (bless his little heart, he was so sure the band was gonna abandon him) but they didn’t and they were there whenever they could, also they would send in some demos for me to play for Brian so that he could still have a say in the songs for their Sheer Heart attack album.

Now that Queen was slowly now getting recognized for their talents after “Killer Queen” made the top 10 in the charts, scratch that the entire album was going up the charts I wanted Brian to have something special to go with his tripod.

I took out my wallet and counted up my tips that I had been saving all year to buy this telescope. I was still a few pounds short but after today I should finally have enough to buy the telescope for my guy.

“Don’t you worry Bri. You’ll see the stars once again.” I put the money back in the side pouch of my purse and looked down at my watch. “Shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I exclaimed and quickly raced down the block towards the tree shop.  I had taken a second job at the Christmas tree shop to help with getting better tips for Brian’s telescope.

When I finally arrived, I walked into the open tree lot and punched in my timecard before the loud exclamation of my boss’ voice cried out.

“YOU’RE LATE!!”

“I’m sorry sir, I was……”

“Doesn’t matter! Now get out there and get those papers organized we’ve got customers out there who need trees!” I nodded and quickly went over to my desk and took out some of the reserved papers that some people filled out to confirm their tree orders.

The day was long and cold but every little penny counted.  I filled out the paperwork, helped the customer’s find their tree and even bypassed the boys at the shop and helped put the trees on top of the customer’s cars.

“Welcome to Mad Pete’s Tree shop how may I help you?”

“Yeah see my mate here is looking for a pretty cute tree, around (y/h), (h/c) and has two of the star glistening eyes he’s ever seen.” I looked up and low and behold there stood Roger and Brian.

“Really Rog? Did you have to go and say all that?”

“Hey bout time you got a taste of your own medicine of what we’ve had to deal with everytime you miss (n/n)!” I shook my head softly chuckling.

“So you guys really here to shop for a tree or are you trying to get me into trouble with the boss again?”

“Hey Fred and I did not cause that fire!” Roger defended himself.

“You guys were the only ones smoking at the time, you’re lucky I didn’t get fired from that little stunt.” I sassed him.  Brian gave him a disapproving look while Roger tried to brush it off, but as soon as he saw my scowl, he submitted and put on that puppy dog face of his.

“Sorry lovie. Can you forgive me?” I went up to him and embraced him.

“Of course I do yah big puppy dog.” I ruffled his long golden locks which made him exclaim as he tried to fix his hair back to normal.

“Oi! Do you know how long it takes for me to get my hair like this? It’s called a miracle darling.”

“Now you didn’t answer my question, what are you guys really doing here?”

“We figured we’d go and get us a tree since we couldn’t get one last year. Since we got some money now instead of hardly anything.” Brian said.

“Ahh I see. Well let’s see what I can help you with. Follow me gentlemen.” I guided them towards the back and there were some of the smaller trees that hadn’t been reserved and that could be affordable for Bri and Rog.  “I know it’s not much but I know you guys can afford these trees. Pete’s been trying to skyrocket the prices, especially for his prized 10 footers.”

“It’s perfect love, thank you.” He kissed me softly on my lips.  I slowly wrapped my arms around him when I felt him take my string necklace revealing my great grandmother’s diamond encrusted locket. “You know, that locket deserves a beautiful golden chain.”

“Brian.” I took his hand in mine and held it against my cheek. “You know you don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Just imagine in, that scared locket chained up to a beautiful chain around that pretty neck of yours.” I blushed and pressed my head against his chest.

“You flatterer. You may not know your way around the dance floor but you have a way with words. No wonder you’re an astrophysicist. Speaking of which, you still got that tripod right?”

“Yeah. I still keep it cleaned, even though I’ll never be able to afford a telescope of my own for years if I’m lucky.” Oh little does he know.

“Well you never know. Santa has his ways.”

“You know love, it’s kinda weird how you still believe in Santa Clause even at your age.” Brian said. I let out a dramatic gasp.

“How dare you! You are never told old to believe in Father Christmas. Right Rog?”

“Damn straight! Just ignore your boyfriend (n/n), he thinks he’s too clever for Christmas.” Rog said as he took me away from Brian and wrapped an arm around my neck.

“Now hold on I didn’t—” a throat cleared and that’s when I saw a middle aged couple with their two small children.  The father who had a greying beard and wore some prescription circular glasses.

“Excuse me, we—we’re looking for a tree.” He said shyly.

“Oh did I hear you folks looking for a tree? Well step right over here and I’ll show you the best trees I’ve got!” Pete soon came in saying and guided the parents away from the smaller trees, right towards his prized 10ft.  I glared at him and turned to the guys.

“Think you both can find a tree yourselves?”

“No worries love. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll see you tonight though right?”

“Of course. I’ll be over at your flat by 6pm on the dot. At least I’ll be on time unlike you are, yah scatterbrain.” He gave me that disapproving scowl (you know where he tilts his head down and his brow raises up and a deep frown crosses his lips). I giggled and pecked his lips and said, “You know I love you right?”

“With those insults I’m starting to doubt it.” He mocked.  I playfully swatted his arm which made him chuckle then I proceeded to follow the family to get them a more affordable tree.

After looking and looking through the very back of the lot, I had found the perfect tree that would suit the family just right.  I took it around to where Pete had his 10 footers displayed.

“I really am sorry madam but the rest of my trees have been reserved, these are the only ones I’ve got. You don’t want these kids going without a tree this year do you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“We are gonna get a tree? Aren’t we daddy?” the little girl around 5 years old said.

“But—this is all we have.” The father said as he took out what looked like one pound and threepenny pieces.

“Then that’s just enough for a down payment.” Mr. Pete said as he readied the contract.  Okay that’s it.

“Ugg excuse me!” I made myself known. “I’m sorry to interrupt but uhh—I managed to find this out back. It hasn’t been reserved or anything, maybe you and your family would like this.” I walked up with the tree and set it down.

The kids all ooed and awed at it, it was just slightly bigger than the two of them were.  The father shoved the contract back into Mr. Pete’s hands and he said to me joyously.

“We’ll take it! Oh thank you so much miss.”

“No problem, let me help you get this tree set up onto your car.” I took the father’s money for the tree and walked with them back to their car.

As they drove away waving and thanking me for the help, I waved goodbye back to them and wished them a Merry Christmas.  I counted up my tips and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I did it. I—I actually did it! Oh it’s finally enough to get Brian that telescope!” I cheered as I jumped up and down until a shadow came over me.  I stopped and slowly turned around and saw Mr. Pete seething down at me, his cigar bit between his yellow teeth.

“I HAD THEM HOOKED ONTO BUYING ONE OF MY TEN FOOTERS!!” he yelled in my face which made me slip and fall flat on my back in the snow. “And I’ve decided to take what I would’ve made out of your payment!” he snatched my bag of tips out of my hand.

“No let go of that! I need it for someone special’s Christmas gift!” I exclaimed as I tugged on the other end of it trying to take it back.

“Not. My. Problem!” he said.  With one final good yank, I was once again back in the snow as Mr. Pete pocketed my tip bag. “And just for the record. YOU’RE FIRED!!” he walked away from me with my bag of tips.  Not just from working at his lot but my waitressing job tips as well.

Of course I wasn’t upset about getting fired from the Christmas tree lot, I was just upset that all my hard work was now for nothing.  Guess I’ll be going to Brian’s empty handed.  I stood up, brushed the snow off my pants and walked away solemnly from the lot.

Thinking just how in the hell I’m gonna get Brian that telescope now.  There’s no way I could come up with the money by 4 o’clock today.

*Brian’s POV*

After picking out the perfect tree from the lot, Roger and I drove down back to the flat.  As we drove down the road I quickly said to Roger.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Just pull over Rog!” I snapped.  He muttered angrily and pulled the car into the pawnshop parking lot and I quickly stepped out and went up to the window and saw it.  The gold chain I’ve had my eyes on to give to (Y/n) to go with her locket.

“Forget it Bri, you’ll never afford it!” I heard Roger exclaim from the car.  I glared down and turned towards him.

“You underestimate me Rog.”

“All I’m saying is that we barely had enough to buy this tree. Trident is really screwing us over with our payment. John’s trying his best but he can’t seem to prove it legally. Yet.” He said to me.

“I know. It’s just I want to give (Y/n) the perfect gift this year. After everything that’s happened especially with my health, I want to show her just how much she’s meant to me. Without her I—I doubt I would even be standing here right now.”

“Now don’t go getting sappy on me now mate. (N/n) is a diamond in the rough, but you know she’s never wanted any riches or fame. All she ever says she needs in the world is you. God now you got me talking sappy! I hate you both sometimes!”

“Oh what? Mr. Hard-rocker can’t take a little sweetness in his life?” I teased as I got back in the car.

“Shut up or I’ll run your arse over.” He threatened.  I softly chuckled as Roger pulled away from the pawnshop.

Soon.  I’ll get that gold chain soon enough.  I just need to figure out a plan, but I only have 6 hours left so I need to think fast.

*My POV*

GRRRRR!!! Why can’t life be like a fairytale sometimes? I sure could use a fairy godmother right about now to give me enough money for Brian’s telescope.  I sat down at a nearby park bench and fiddled with my locket.

“(Y/n)?” I perked up my head. “(Y/n) darling is that you?” I looked up and there I saw Freddie with row upon row of shopping bags.

“Freddie? Wha…..what are you doing here?”

“Doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Of course shopping for that man of yours is a nightmare! Okay a living hell! No offense.”

“None taken. He—can be difficult to shop for at times.” I said solemnly.  Freddie cocked his head curiously like one of his cats and he asked me.

“You okay dear? No offense but you look like someone threw you in a dumpster and the dumpster spat you back out.”

“I could be better.” He came over and set his bags down at our feet and he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“C’mon. You tell ol’ Freddie what happened darling? Why are you so down at this festive time of the year?”

“To put it bluntly, I got fired from Pete’s tree lot.”

“What?! Alright that’s it I am going to march straight down there and have a little chat with Mr. Pete.” I grabbed Fred’s arm and said.

“That’s not what’s bothering me though Fred. Honestly, I could care less whether or not I worked there next year or not.”

“Then what else happened that made you so sad?”

“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell Brian?” he gasped.

“Please tell me you’re pregnant.”

“What no! No! Fred that’s not it at all. You see, you know how Brian always has that empty tripod at yall’s flat?” he nodded. “Well I did some digging and found the perfect telescope that can go with his tripod. Since the start of the year I’ve been saving up all my tips just to get him that telescope. The tree lot’s really been helping my tips grow compared to my waitressing job. And today I managed to reach my goal.”

“Well that’s great so—”

“But that’s when Pete took my tip bag away. All of it.”

“What!? Why the fuck would he do something like that!?”

“Because I stopped him from selling this sweet family an expensive 10ft. tree. They knew they couldn’t afford it yet Pete was pressuring them. So I sold them a small and affordable tree and they were excited about what I showed them and took it. Pete said he was gonna take what he would’ve made off the tree out of my pay. So he took everything. My entire bag of tips that have been saved since this year.”

“That low-life…..you sure you don’t need me to go ‘speak’ to him?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore Fred. I only have 2 hours till the shop closes and no way of paying for that telescope. Now Brian will never be able to look up at the stars the way he dreams of doing.” I leaned my head against Fred’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, gently rubbing my arm and pressed a soft kiss on top of my head.

“You know what I always found to be the cure for a sour face?” he asked me.

“What?”

“Trying on new clothes. C’mon let’s go down to BIBA and pick you something nice to wear for the party. My treat.”

“No, no Fred I can’t do that. Plus what about your shopping?”

“Ahhh I was done with it anyways. Now c’mon. Maybe taking your mind off of your sad morning will help you come up with a plan. And here why don’t you take this?” he reached down and grabbed one of his shopping bags. “It’s something I was planning on giving to that space man of yours, but it seems you need it more than I do.”

“Freddie I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll take it. That way you can at least not feel guilty of coming to our flat empty handed. And maybe give me a sneak peek of what to expect from you for my Christmas present.”

“In your dreams Mercury. I never spill Christmas secrets.”

“Damn it!” he pouted.

“C’mon you, I was promised a shopping trip so I expect you to deliver.”

“Darling have you met me?” he stood up and I helped him with some of his bags and the two of us walked towards BIBA.

After finally getting into a warm store, I shivered and rubbed my arms frantically trying to get some friction on them and warm myself up.  Freddie and I then proceeded to try out some clothes.

Freddie was right. After awhile of trying out various types of clothing and giving Fred my personal opinion on what he could possibly wear for a future concert, I was starting to feel better.  Currently I was trying on a winter hat and looking at myself in the mirror.

“Hold everything (Y/n) darling! I’ve found the perfect thing for you!” I heard Freddie exclaim all the way from the other side of the store.  I buried my face under the hat as people looked towards me.  Fred came racing over to me and he held up a cute red Christmas shawl with little snowflakes on it.

“Oh my god this is cute!” Fred then tied it around my neck but tied it in a fashion knot, making sure my locket was the key feature showing above my shawl.

“Figured this could go great with your great-grammy’s locket. That thing is worth millions.”

“Yeah. Pure diamond encrusted and……” I trailed off. “That’s it. THAT’S IT!! Fred what time is it?!” I asked him urgently.

“Uhh it’s uhh…..10 till 4.”

“Uggh! There’ll be no time to get there by the road. Nevermind I’ll just run. Yeah run as fast as I can to the shop and get Brian’s telescope! Thanks Fred you’re the best but you can take Brian’s gift back I think I’ve found the perfect way to get Brian that telescope!” I ripped the shawl off my neck and handed it back to Fred and raced out of BIBA and ran as fast as I could.

Now running and snow are not a good combination but I couldn’t stop now.  Not even as I was slipping and sliding along the crosswalks, all that mattered to me was getting to that shop on time.  I would look up towards Big Ben to see how much time I had left and time was running short.

I still had about six blocks till I got to the shop and I was down to my final 3 minutes on the clock.  I soon spotted some teenager boys sledding up along some railings and bus benches.  I walked up to one of them and quickly asked them if I could borrow his sled for a moment.

At first he pondered on the though till finally he agreed to let me have it.  I told him where he could come collect it in the next five minutes and I proceeded to sled the rest of the way to the shop.

Now gaining some speed, I could see the shop just down the hill.  I took a deep breath and proceeded to slid down the street towards the shop but as I got halfway that’s when Big Ben began to gong out the next hour. GONG……GONG…..GONG…..GONG!

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! As I got to the bottom I saw the shop starting to close up, the lights went off and soon the old shopkeeper came out and locked up. I stood up and ran towards him.

“Wait sir wait!” he turned to me.  He was an elderly man roughly around his mid-60s, he wore prescription glasses and his hair was white and thinning, he also was growing out a small white beard.  “I—I was wondering if you’d be willing to make a trade?” I took my great-grandmother’s locket off my rope chain. “I was hoping to trade in this locket for that telescope you have on display. The 30 power Refractor one. It’s for my guy.”

He took the locket from my hands and observed it closely.  He hummed sadly and said.

“Sorry ma’am. That there is a pretty locket but it won’t do much in my shop.” He handed me back the locket and pocketed his keys. “Well, Merry Christmas.” He told as he began to walk away.

“Please sir this locket was a family heirloom. It belong to my great grandmother back in the early 1890’s. It’s diamond encrusted and pure gold you can see if for yourself.” I said walking alongside him, showing him the locket once again.  He sighed and told me.

“I know love but—what I sell in my shop is stuff people actually use in their lives. And as I said before as pretty and as valuable as that locket is, no one will want it in my shop.” I stopped and looked down heartbroken. He hummed sympathetically and continued as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder “Tell you what, why not go down to the pawnshop across town and you can sell it there? Then once you got the money, come back here the day after Christmas and then we’ll discuss about that Refractor 30 power telescope.”

“But I need it by tonight. This was my last chance to get my Brian something special after the horrid year he’s had. I would give anything in the world to get him that telescope, even if it’s a precious family heirloom.”

“Anything?” he asked quizzically. “Tell me poppet what else are you planning on giving for that there telescope?” he said with his arms crossed.

“I’d give all my love if I could. As sappy as that sounds but it’s true. Brian he’s—” I looked towards the sky and could already see the first star in the sky. “He’s my shining star.” I heard the shopkeeper chuckle.

“Now that’s how you make a sale. Sure wish there were more young compassionate lovers like you and this man of yours. Reminds me of me and my wife Gertrude. God rest her soul. C’mon in come on in and we’ll discuss that trade.” I smiled and in my adrenaline of pure joy, I hugged the old man and heard him softly chuckle.

Later that night, I arrived at the boy’s flat ready for the Queen Christmas party.  The boys along with Mary, Veronica, and Roger’s girlfriend Jo were all there by the time I arrived.  We had a warm and delicious Christmas eve dinner and exchanged the gifts. First the guys gave out gifts to each other, then us girls proceeded to give our gifts to each other.

I had gotten Ronnie some baby clothes (yes she was a couple of months pregnant at the time and had given us the big announcement just a month ago).  I gave Jo a copy of her favorite Jimi Hendrix album, and as for Mary I got her some new makeup from the latest designer line.

I had gotten some winter hats and scarves from Mary, a copy of my favorite Shakespeare play from Ronnie, and Jo got me the new Beatles album.

After most of the gifts had been exchanged, I quickly went to the back of the tree and pulled out my gift for Brian.  I groaned and heaved it up.

“Jesus (n/n) what did you get him a pool table?” Roger asked as he lit up his cigarette.

“Ha-ha you’re hilarious Taylor.” I sassed sarcastically.  I then turned to Brian and I said to him, “Hey Bri, why don’t you go get that tripod out from your room?” he chuckled nervously and fiddled around with his shirt collar nervously as he said.

“Actually….why don’t you open yours first? And maybe even let us see that locket of yours. I don’t think Jo’s ever seen it before.” Now I started getting nervous.

“Oh she wouldn’t be interested in that old thing. Here, why don’t we open our gifts together?”

“At least do something!” Freddie and John both slapped Roger over the head making him exclaim in pain. Brian handed me my gift, a small but beautiful wrapped box with a gorgeous red bow, while I carefully handed him my giant box.

The two of us unwrapped our gifts and opened up the tops and my eyes widened as I let out a soft gasp.

“A—a gold chain to go with my……locket.”

“Oh my god (Y/n)! You got me the Refractor 30 power telescope for my—tripod.” Wait why did he trail off at the end? I turned to him and saw that he had a sorrow-filled expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“Oh (Y/n) I love it. I really do, I’ve always wanted my own telescope it’s just—” he sighed heavily. “I just had to trade that old tripod to get you that gold chain.”

“What?”

“Pawnshop’s son was into space and he needed a tripod for his telescope. So I told the pawnshop owner that I had one since that one was practically collected dust instead of stars.” Oh Brian.

“And I traded my locket to get you that telescope.” Brian and everyone else softly gasped.

“Oh (Y/n), I can’t believe you would trade away a family heirloom for me.” Brian said.

“I would’ve given anything Brian. After—everything that’s happened this year. From your hepatitis scare, to the ulcer and even fear of losing your arm I—wanted to give you something special. I don’t care if it costed me an arm, leg or even my own heart. I would’ve done anything to at least see you smile that real Brian May smile I’ve come to love.”

He cupped the side of my face and brought me closer to him, our lips joining together in a soft, delicate, loving kiss.  Of course Roger and Fred just had to make it embarrassing by telling Bri to give me more tongue.

“Come with me.” He silently said urgently as he guided me out to the small backyard behind their flat. “There now we got some privacy away from the pests that is Freddie and Roger. I swear those two are mentally 5 years old 24/7.”

“Well Fred is, Rog is more like 3 years old.” He snorted out a soft laugh.

“Anyways what I wanted to bring you out here to tell you is that while I appreciate what you did to get me the telescope, you didn’t have to trade your locket. I know how much it meant to you.”

“I know but like I said earlier, I would’ve given anything to see you smile again.”

“Just being by my side is enough to make me smile.” He said as he cupped each side of my face, his calloused thumbs caressed my cheeks.  I smiled and he pressed his forehead against mine, our noses gently nuzzling against one another’s before he captured my lips in another kiss.

For the rest of the night, we all sang some Christmas songs, watched some Christmas films and when it got late we all decided to turn in for the night.  I was in Brian’s room, the two of us cuddled up close on his bed.

“I just hope by next Christmas we’ll have ourselves a house.” He said.

“Let’s take it one step at a time my love.” I said as I tucked my hand into his unbuttoned t-shirt softly stroking his collarbone and gave the junction between his neck and shoulder a kiss.  “For now I’m content to how this Christmas turned out.”

“Me too. Even though we basically recreated the gift of Magi tale.” I smiled and felt Brian kiss the top of my head which his fingers slowly stroked up and down my spine. “Happy Christmas my stardust.”

“Happy Christmas my space man.” Brian covered the two of us with his duvet and we fell into a peaceful slumber in his arms.

[rabbits-of-habit]

mod dirk i not so lightly ask for ur prebrand hcs

TW; Tribetwelve

I give them to you with no hesitation at all. -Mod Dirk

Prebrand is very skittish with new people so please be gentle with him.

He is super clingy.

Whenever he sees you or someone he likes he is at their side at a moments notice.

Any little trinkets you give him he holds onto and puts in his rucksack for safe keeping.

He's hates loud sounds.

When he sleeps with you his arms tangle around you and he buries his head into your chest.

He rambles a lot about everything and nothing.

When you listen to his rambles and talk back to him he looks at you with stars in his eyes and excitement.

He doesn't get listened to a lot of the time and its nice for him to have someone there that does you know?

Protective of those he's close to. He can and will kill a man that he deems a threat to you.

You and Robert are the only people he listens to. That is both a blessing and a curse.

Everyone else he just laughs at them and goes back to whatever feral shit he was just doing.

He is easily distracted and scatterbrained.

He also has some trouble telling the difference between a joke and a serious statement so you have to be a bit more careful when talking to him.

He has some of Firebrand's abilities but they aren't as strong and very limited.

Teleporting short distances and controlling the temp of the room he's in.

His body temp is also just a bit higher than that of a normal humans.

Nice toasty cuddles whenever he showers and changes his clothes.

Cannot sit still to save his life. It's like he always has to be moving or he will die.

Adores getting attention from you and will do things to get that attention even if it's good or bad.

Strikes me as the type to love getting soft kisses on the cheeks or forehead.