#but put them together and its nonstop ball talk

[lvl1-cleric]

I usually hang out with at least one other woman but today I ate lunch with 3 male colleagues and they're all great people, I love them individually, but the entire 30 minute break was spent talking and laughing about testicles. Their balls, and other people's balls, and a religion based on balls

Literally:

[anarchofairy]

another vent post because i just had a realization

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – One // Wanda Maximoff

story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter two

author’s note: here’s the long-awaited first chapter! i do hope you all enjoy!

Also a quick one – Y/B/N = your brother’s name, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/D/N = your dad’s name

"You move anymore and you're gonna hit a waiter."

I gave my brother a disapproving look as he grinned at my dismay. "Easy for you to say. You're wearing a suit and not a dress that's heavier than your body."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Y/N, you complain too much. Look where we are! You need to learn to enjoy yourself."

Taking a look around the room, I saw a hall filled with people I didn't know mingling with one another. Flutes of champagne were on almost every hand and laughter filled the air as everybody enjoyed their evening, soaking in the luxuries of a ball somebody I didn't know was hosting. Orchestral music was drowned out by conversations and servers moved through the hall like mice, scuttling around and constantly topping up champagne. I wasn't a fan, as usual.

"Are you both ready? Your father is bringing the Maximoffs here any second," my mother's voice grabbed my attention. "Y/N, at least try to look happy to be here." 

I forced a smile, making her give me a knowing look before looking to my brother and fixing his tie.

"You both know how important this is," she told us for the millionth time, fussing over my brother's appearance. "They're expecting–"

"Well-behaved, respectful individuals," I finished for her. "We know, mum. You've told us only a gazillion times."

She pressed her lips together, hands on her hips as her eyes fell to me, displeased. "If this engagement is to go as planned, I need you on your best behaviour."

"I'm always on my best behaviour," I reassured her. "But okay. I'll lighten up."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile, before glancing over her shoulder. "Okay. Here they come. Smiles, please."

My brother looked to me, showing me his teeth. "Is there anything in my teeth?"

I cracked a smile to make myself feel better. "Gums."

He gave me a disappointed look. "You know men don't like women who are smart arses." 

I rolled my eyes at his comment, knowing men didn't like women who didn't like men. But, of course, I didn't say that.

All her and my dad had been talking about for the past few weeks was this engagement. My brother, a very successful author, was to be engaged to his publisher's twin sister, some girl called Wanda. The Maximoffs were an esteemed family and their unification with ours was in everyone's best interests, especially my brother's who was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.

I didn't know much about the Maximoffs, only that their son and my brother's 'boss', if you will, Pietro, ran a successful publishing house. It had been in their family name since their parents emigrated to England from Sokovia when Pietro and Wanda were children. They'd built themselves up from nothing and were now high members of society, the perfect family to be involved with.

Y/B/N was to be engaged to Wanda, their daughter, since she was getting to that age where they wanted to find someone for her. My brother's name was put into the mix when Pietro recommended him and the rest was history.

Tonight was the first unofficial meeting with them and my mother had been nonstop lecturing me on the dos and don't's of how to act, as if I was a child that couldn’t behave. Of course, it was only a mere greeting. The true engagement was to be proposed tomorrow night, but that didn't matter to my fussy mother who was insistent on making a good impression.

I found myself straightening up and pressing my hands down my dress to rid it of creases as my brother adjusted his blazer. The Maximoffs were being led our way by my father, the four of them all with smiles on their lips and flutes of champagne in their hands.

"Dear, I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs Maximoff and their lovely children, Pietro and Wanda," my dad introduced, stopping before us, before looking to the Maximoffs. "This is my family. My wife, Y/M/N, and my children, Y/N and Y/B/N."

"Please, call me Oleg and my wife Iryna," the twins' father, Oleg, said with a kind smile. He held out his hand to my mother, adding, "It's a pleasure, Y/M/N."

They shook hands and then looked to my brother and I, exchanging quick greetings with us. As they were saying something to my brother, probably gushing over his writing as everyone did, I took a look at the quiet twins behind them.

I vaguely recognised the guy and his striking silver hair from my brother's work, knowing he was Pietro. But I'd never seen the girl before and knew immediately that if I had, I wouldn't forget her face. She was stunning, it didn't take a genius to see that. But not the stunning that you glanced once at and forgot about. No, she was the stunning that knocked the breath out of you and made you forget what your name was.

"...lovely to meet you again!" my brother was saying all the right things to impress his soon-to-be in-laws, but it went over me as I found myself unable to tear my gaze from this mystery woman.

Further introductions went on in the background, before the green eyes I was so enthralled with were looking my way, making me blink suddenly. I instantly looked away, afraid I'd been caught, and zoned back into the conversation that was taking place.

"It's great to finally put a name to a face," the girl, Wanda, was saying to my brother with a honey sweet smile and sultry Russian-accented voice, and judging by his expression, he was just as caught up in her beauty as I was. "I look forward to getting to know you more."

"And I you," he returned with his signature grin.

Her eyes fell to mine once again, lips curving into an amused smile. "And of course, Y/B/N's beautiful sister, Y/N. How lucky a man he must be to have a sister as stunning as you."

The others chuckled, clearly taken by Wanda's smooth way with words. In their eyes, it was flattery at its finest. After all, she was to be welcomed into our family and sucking up to the sister was the best way forward. But I guess, I'd like to believe that there was some truth to her words as her entrancing green eyes sparkled with delight.

"You don't need to win over my sister to get on my good side," Y/B/N joked before I could speak, stealing Wanda's attention away momentarily.

She suppressed a laugh, tilting her head as she studied him with an unreadable expression, before looking to me with curious eyes.

"Thank you for your kind words, Wanda," I finally said to her, offering a small smile.

"Anytime," she quipped, biting her lip to contain her smile.

It was oh so wrong of me to even slightly check her out as she did, knowing that it was not only inappropriate since she was to be my brother's bride, but also wrong since she was a girl and I wasn't supposed to do this. A heat crept up neck as I avoided her teasing gaze, wondering if she knew what she was doing or if she was just a naturally flirty person.

"I'm Pietro," her brother spoke, making me look up again. He was directing a charming smile my way as he continued, "It's an honour to finally meet my best author's younger sister."

I put out my hand for him to shake, but he simply grabbed it and pressed a gentle kiss to the top. I flushed at the contact, a nervous smile on my lips.

"Er, it's nice to meet you, too, Pietro," I returned, subtly wiping my hand when he let go of it.

The twins stood side by side, smiling our way, and I realised just why all the chatter in our social circles revolved around them. Charming, distinguished, good-looking – they were the whole package.

Our parents continued to talk, catching up and talking about stuff I didn't care much for. Every now and then, Y/B/N would chime in if a question was directed his way, or Pietro would add his two cents, or Wanda would say something funny, and I would pretend to get along with all of them when I so desperately wished to go home and go to sleep.

Admittedly, my eyes veered over to my soon-to-be sister-in-law every now and then, unable to look away. She was drop dead gorgeous, with bright hazel eyes that looked green like the earth at this moment, and long brown hair that was pulled back out of her face, revealing her charming smile. Sometimes, when she would smile really widely, a dimple would expose itself on her left cheek at the corner of her mouth, and I was sure that nothing else was cuter than that. Y/B/N was one lucky man.

"...would love for you all to come to our home tomorrow evening for dinner," my father was inviting them all over, bringing me back to reality. "It'll be a great way to get to know each other in a more intimate setting. And it'll give the kids a better chance to get to know each other."

Iryna smiled brightly. "We would love to, Y/D/N. Tomorrow evening is great."

"Perfect," my mum said excitedly. "We'll see you all then."

"Do enjoy the rest of your evening," Oleg said, looking to us all, before looking to my brother. "And Y/B/N, it was good to meet you tonight. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."

"You, too, sir," Y/B/N said, shaking his hand with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Oleg and Iryna gave us all a smile before turning to leave. Pietro and Wanda did the same, though when Wanda's eyes flickered to mine, she waved her fingers slowly and with a playful smile on her lips. My mouth opened slightly, unsure what to do or say, but nobody seemed to notice as she turned and left, leaving me standing there with confusion.

"Well, I think that went well," my mum said, and I tore my gaze from Wanda's retreating form. "Couldn't have gone better actually."

"I agree," my dad said, wrapping an arm around my mum's waist with a smile. "Tomorrow night will be splendid." He looked to Y/B/N. "What did you think of Wanda, son?"

Y/B/N looked like he was on top of the world with his love struck smile and relaxed posture. "She's beautiful. And did you hear that accent? Wonderful."

My mother chuckled. "How sweet. You're already smitten."

"What did you think of her, Y/N?" my brother asked, and all eyes fell to me.

I straightened up. "Oh, I– er– she's very nice. A beautiful young woman."

"Right?" he said in agreement. "I feel like she really likes you, too. How cool is that? You guys can become friends and be, like, close sister-in-laws."

I forced a small smile. "Yeah. Something like that."

Of course, for everyone's benefit, getting along with Wanda Maximoff was the best bet. But something about her was different and I was yet to discover what.

—

The following evening was when we saw the Maximoffs next. As invited, they turned up at our front door dressed less glamorously than last night, given the occasion, but appearing just as excited. Our servants were quick to take their jackets and hang them up elsewhere as we exchanged greetings in the hall.

The Maximoff parents were genuinely kind and humbling people to be around, I'd come to learn that when they thanked our servants for their help and asked them how their day was, making friendly chatter. Not many people did that when entering our home – it was certainly refreshing to see. They greeted Y/B/N and I kindly before moving onto our parents.

The Maximoff children were just as kind, though with a hint of mischief in their stride as they moved to greet my brother and I. Pietro approached me first, lips pulling into a smile as he bowed playfully. In the corner of my eye, I could see Wanda and Y/B/N exchanging greetings.

"It's a pleasure to be in your presence yet again, Y/N," Pietro said generously. "You look lovely this evening."

A smile appeared on my lips at his kind eyes. "Thank you, Pietro. You look very handsome this evening also."

"Apparently it's lamb for dinner, is that true?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I wasn't sure if he was serious, but when his sister slapped him on the arm, I figured he was.

"Don't be greedy, Piet," she scolded him like this was a regular thing.

"What? It was a simple question," he said with a shrug, before looking to my brother with a grin. "Ah, Y/B/N Y/L/N, my favourite writer."

As he moved over to greet him, Wanda looked over to me with a knowing smile.

"It's good to see you again," she said softly, maintaining eye contact.

"You, too," I played along with whatever was happening, the usual script at a time like this. "I'm sure tonight will be something special for you and my brother. It's good to have you here."

She tilted her head intimidatingly. "Bol'shoye tebe spasibo."

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by her ability to change languages so smoothly. Though, it made sense since she was Sokovian, making Russian her first language. Didn't make it any easier to not be attracted to though.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. disguising my attraction with genuine confusion. "What does that mean?"

She smiled, a hint of smugness present as she answered, "Thank you very much. That's what it means."

I pressed my lips together, humming in response. She held my gaze for a second longer than usual and I wanted to look away, but I was drawn in by the beautiful golden flecks swirled into her irises, captivating and chilling all at once. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the eye contact, instead revelling in it with a content smirk when she saw me squirm. I ended up looking away first, unable to hold a pretty girl's gaze for more than a few seconds without panicking.

"I have something to show you!" my brother was saying excitedly to Pietro. "It's in my study, c'mon."

The two of them wandered off before my mum could stop them.

"Don't be too long, boys!" she called after them, before sighing and looking to Wanda and I. "Y/N, dear, why don't you show Wanda around upstairs, maybe? Hopefully the boys should be back after that and we can all eat dinner together."

I swallowed hard, glancing at a still-smirking Wanda, before looking back to my mum. "Erm, are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, go on, it'll give you ladies a chance to get to know each other better!" she insisted, before ushering me away. "Don't take too long though. Dinner will be ready soon."

Licking my lips nervously, I nodded, watching my mum return to the conversation my dad and Wanda's parents were having. They were led into the living room as Wanda and I were left standing in the hall, her waiting for me to say something.

"This way, I guess," I got out awkwardly, purposely avoiding her eyes as I motioned to the grand staircase.

"After you," she said politely, and I said nothing as I took the lead.

I ended up showing her around the upstairs rooms, including the library we had and the many guest rooms. It was a big home with lots to show for it, so the tour wasn't too boring.

Wanda stayed quiet throughout it, sometimes dropping in a comment or question every now and then, but otherwise listening intently as I explained everything as interestingly as I could. When she did speak, she would leave me fumbling for words or forgetting how to speak altogether. I wondered if she was teasing me on purpose, wanting to get a rise out of her soon-to-be sister-in-law, or if she just wasn't aware of what she was doing.

But every time her mischievous gaze fell to me with a matching smile, I knew that she had to be aware of her actions. Nobody was that teasing without wanting to be. So, that led me to my next question. Why?

Eventually, the last room on the tour was my bedroom. I stepped inside first, holding the door open for her as she followed after and looked around with amusement.

"This is your room," she stated, feet taking her further inside as she took in the appearance of my desk, my bed and my wardrobe. "Fascinating."

I was curious to know what she meant by that, but realising that this woman was an enigma in more ways than one, I knew she wouldn't give me a straight answer. So, I said nothing as I followed after her, remaining close as she soaked in my belongings.

Stopping at my desk, her eyes gazed over the papers spilling from closed notebooks, books marked with string and pens littered across the wood. Thankfully, nothing was open and she didn't seem to be the nosy type, so had no intention of going through anything.

"I see you like writing," she noticed, fingers hovering above the notebooks but not quite making a move to touch them. "Runs in the family, doesn't it?"

"I guess," I said, unsure what she wanted to hear.

She looked up at me, smile tugging at her lips. The same damned smile that had been directed at me since she got here.

"Do you write like your brother?"

I tried not to laugh. "More like he writes like me."

She watched me closely, amusement dancing in her eyes. "He's the author in the family."

I mirrored her smile, though mine was fake. "Published author, love. Doesn't make him the only one."

A chuckle flew from her lips as she looked across my messy desk again, clearly not offended by the hint of annoyance in my voice. I shouldn't have been so offended by her words – she didn't know anything about me – but it always ground my gears when people stuck up for Y/B/N like he was God's gift.

"Do you write?" I asked, half interested and half wanting to change the subject. The least I could do was try to get to know her a little better.

"I prefer painting," she answered without mischief. "It's my favourite thing to do."

Her eyes lit up at the mere mention of art, but she did a good job at reigning it in. She was still studying the books on my desk, distracting herself with the spines instead of facing me.

"And what do you like to paint?" I asked, genuinely interested now that I was beginning to see her actually fond of something that didn't involve making me flustered.

She shrugged, but I knew it was a pretence. "Scenery. Landscapes. We have a beautiful garden at home and it's a pleasure to paint." She finally met my eyes again, a smile of adoration on her lips as she continued talking about the garden. "The flowers, the trees, the little pond we have. It's the perfect subject."

The smile that appeared on my lips was automatic as her passion for her hobby was contagious. The way her whole face lit up, eyes bright with excitement and lips unable to do anything but smile, was intoxicating and I tried not to get lost in the moment. It was true though, what people said. Nobody looked more beautiful than when talking about something they loved.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," I told her earnestly.

Playfulness returning, she hummed in agreement. "Only if I can see yours."

I laughed, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe not."

"Well, that's a shame," she said, still playful, though when I looked up, I almost believed her.

She did that thing again, where she stared at me and held my gaze as if reading my innermost private thoughts. Intimidating wasn't the word, yet it was the only one in my mind as I watched her attempt to decipher me. Clearing my throat, I looked away, suddenly aware of how close she was stood.

"So, my brother," I changed the subject yet again, noticing the entertained expression she wore. "You like him?"

"We are to be engaged, are we not?" she asked with a quirked brow, like the answer was obvious.

I hid the smile from my lips. "That's not what I asked, love."

She licked her lips, pursing them as she saw what I was trying to do. My eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth as she did, and I almost forgot to look away until she started speaking again.

"My parents arranged this," she admitted, not losing composure. "Y/B/N is a gentleman and he seems like a kind man."

I noticed how she still avoided answering the question, but decided not to say anything about it. My eyes studied her curiously though, wondering why exactly she'd agreed to the marriage then. Maybe it was a sense of duty, like every woman had nowadays. Eventually my time would come too and maybe I would be stuck in the same position as her.

"I adore his writing though," she added, like she needed to say something genuine to make up for her lack of answer.

"You and every other woman in the city," I mumbled knowingly.

Wanda let out a breathy laugh. "I'm aware of his many admirers, yes, but can you blame them? He has such a fantastic way with words. And don't get me started on that first piece he ever wrote..." Her eyes rolled back with satisfaction. "It's my favourite. I had no idea who he was back then, but the words he wrote were enough to make me fall in love. I guess it's convenient that my new husband is to be your brother, the author."

I crossed my arms as I leaned against the desk, trying not to break out into laughter. Not because of Wanda's words – they were actually quite sweet – but because of the whole situation. It was hilarious to me, since I was the reason Y/B/N got his big break as a writer anyway.

Following in our father's footsteps, Y/B/N wrote manuscript after manuscript with hopes of getting published. But unfortunately, he never got anywhere with it. I was also a writer, having been taught by my father like Y/B/N when I was a young girl, but unlike him, I was told to stop when I got older because it was 'unladylike' and 'not a woman's place'. That didn't stop me however, and I continued to write like no tomorrow.

Y/B/N's big break, and the first manuscript of his that got published by Pietro – ironically the one that Wanda was discussing right now – was written by me. I gave it to my brother, hoping he could get inspiration. He ended up sending that in and getting signed because of my work. And even now, I occasionally helped him work on pieces that otherwise wouldn't see the light of day.

But nobody wanted to hear about the young, unmarried woman who writes about other women like they are God's best creation. So, Y/B/N keeps the fame and credit whilst I write in private, unable to share any of my work with the world unless it's in excerpts of my brother's books with his name on the front cover.

"That first piece was pretty good, wasn't it?" I played along with Wanda's words, a hint of bitterness in my tone of voice.

Wanda studied me up and down, teasing smile tugging at her lips. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya."

I hummed in acknowledgement, feigning a smile in response, though I wasn't sure what that last word meant. Probably another Russian term she was using to throw me off. Of course she'd assume I was jealous of my brother's recognition. She didn't know the truth and she never could. She was also to marry my brother, the perfect author, soon; my bitter state was merely a jealous sibling and maybe it was easier to let her think that way.

"Dinner should be ready now," I told her, straightening up. "Let's head down."

She followed after me and I said nothing else as I led her back downstairs, trying not to think about how much of an ego-boost this dinner would be for my brother.

There was nothing better than hearing everyone gush over the work your brother took credit for that you actually did, right?

"Ah, ladies, perfect timing!" said my mum when we reached the dining room where everyone was taking their seats. "Please, sit and we can get started. It's a lovely roast from the kitchen tonight."

As I made my way to my usual seat opposite my brother, I saw Pietro fist-pump the air at the mention of the lamb roast, making Wanda roll her eyes and me smile at his action. Y//B/N took his seat and Wanda's parents seemed to take the two chairs beside him already. My parents took to each end of the table, leaving the Maximoff twins no choice but to sit beside me. I sat at the same spot as usual, at the edge of the table so my left-handed self wouldn't bother whoever was sat beside me, and take a lucky guess to who sat on my right.

"Wanda, dear, how was your tour?" my mum asked her as she got comfortable beside me, leg and shoulder almost touching mine and making me both nervous and disgruntled.

With a grin wide enough to impress my mother, she answered, "It was great. You have a beautiful home, Mrs Y/L/N. And Y/N was a lovely host."

At that last comment, I felt her eyes glance towards me and I wondered if she was having fun making me squirm because I knew for sure that I was anything but a lovely host.

"That's reassuring to hear," my mother responded as the food was brought out and placed in the centre of the table. She seemed like she was joking, but I knew she was just glad I'd been on my best behaviour. "And please, call me Y/M/N."

Wanda nodded gratefully as my dad began to cut into the roast. Food was served up and drinks were poured as everybody began to dig in. The Maximoffs sent their compliments to the chef, admired our home and were the perfect guests, just as they were expected to be. My family complimented Wanda and Pietro's manners, talked about how business was going and laughed at every joke Oleg and Iryna uttered, just as they were expected to be. It really was a picture-perfect scene and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Okay, maybe I was acting a little cynical. The Maximoffs weren't that bad, at least not as bad I'd assumed they would be compared to my parents' other friends. They were down-to-Earth and humbled people, a welcoming change from the usual. I just hated forced dinners and being scrutinised under my mother's eyes to behave, hence the clipped attitude.

And just on cue, the topic steered towards something lovely.

"We can't forget to talk about Y/B/N, bestselling author over here!" Oleg beamed, motioning to my brother. "I have to admit, son, I'm amazed at your writing. You clearly have your father's talent."

My brother smiled bashfully as I watched on with narrowed eyes and a tight grip on my fork.

"You flatter me," he said, but Iryna shook her head.

"I have to agree with my husband here, Y/B/N," she said. "Your writing is superb. Pietro, obviously, loves it, and Wanda is a huge fan, too."

At this, my brother glanced towards Wanda with excited eyes and she merely smiled and looked elsewhere, either embarrassed to be mentioned or playing coy. Rolling my eyes came naturally at this point.

"Tell me, how did you think of what to write for that first book?" Iryna asked with intrigue. "It was my favourite one."

Ah, yes, the first book. Apparently everyone's favourite one.

"Oh, it's best not to bring all that up–"

"I'd actually like to know, too," Wanda cut him off, her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned forward onto the palm of her hand and watched him under long eyelashes.

I couldn't keep the smile of delight from my face as I too leaned forward curiously, eyeing my brother. "Yes, dear, brother. Please, do tell us of how you came to write such an honest, heartfelt first book."

At this, I felt both my parents send me a warning look as they knew the truth. But neither of the Maximoffs noticed as their attention was solely on my brother.

Luckily for him, he was a great liar and he smiled his charming smile and nodded, looking between the four guests.

"I guess it started after my third failed manuscript," he began, very believably. "I realised that there was something missing from my pages. Something real and genuine. Something that would appeal to my readers and make them question just how much they were appreciating their partner, you know?"

As he rambled off into another literary spout of nonsense, my smile faded and I gritted my teeth, wondering how he'd gotten so good at lying without giving away a sliver of pretence. The Maximoffs were hanging onto his every word, fascinated by the mind of a writer. I tried not to let it get to me as he butchered the meaning behind everything I had written in that first novel. Some things were better left unsaid.

When he finished, questions were fired his way and my parents watched on with pride in their eyes, as he answered them with ease. I chose to stay quiet, as usual, letting him soak in the credit for something he didn't do.

"And what do you think, Y/N?" Wanda's voice included me in the conversation, and everybody's eyes fell to me. I was only looking at her as her lips were pulled into a wide, suggestive smile and she continued, "How is it being the sister of one of today's bestselling authors?"

The usual forced smile that accompanied my lips whenever talking about Y/B/N because present, but my eyes were questioning Wanda's as she was clearly trying to get a rise out of me yet again, especially now that she assumed I was jealous of her husband-to-be's fame. Her stupid beautiful smile and stupid pretty eyes and stupid attractive accent were all taunting me.

"It makes me proud to know that he's come so far from when we were younger," I said, and though I was irritated by the way it had happened, my words weren't entirely false. "He's a talented man and he clearly has a way with words. What more is there to say?"

The elders seemed touched by my words and when I looked over the table to meet my brother's gaze, I saw the gratitude in his expression, hiding behind his smile and reserved for me. I nodded subtly, letting him know I was happy to keep his secret as long as he wished, just like we'd agreed.

Chatter and compliments soon turned to the real reason for our presence – the engagement. I tucked into my dessert as I let them talk about dates for the engagement party, logistics for guests and all the other details I could care less about. Only when my brother mentioned my name did I look up, surprised to see all eyes on me yet again.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked politely, glancing around.

"Y/N, honey, lay off the chocolate cake, will you?" my mum said with a smile that I knew was code for 'put the bloody fork down'.

I forced a smile of my own as I lowered my fork and sat up straight, very ladylike, and looked to my brother.

"I was saying how I'll be sure to pick a beautiful engagement ring for Wanda here," he no-doubt repeated for my sake. "And maybe you could help me choose, to make sure it's something she may like."

A genuine sarcastic smile broke out on my lips, though not because I was interested in ring shopping with my brother. I knew absolutely nothing about dear Wanda or her taste in jewellery, but a woman was to do what she was best at – shopping! So, without sharing my true thoughts on the situation, I nodded respectfully and hummed in agreement.

"Of course," I said what everybody wanted to hear. "I'm sure we can find something to suit Wanda's taste."

Everybody resumed chatter about the wedding as I sighed quietly and got back to my cake. My right hand rested by my side and I jumped, startled when I made contact with Wanda's fingers.

"Sorry," I apologised, moving my hand a little from hers but keeping it there. "Left-handed an' all. I tend to forget."

Green eyes pierced through me with a matching sly smile. "No problem, milaya."

Again with the 'milaya' talk – what did that even mean? I returned the awkward smile as I continued eating, but I didn't fail to notice the way her hand would brush against mine throughout the rest of the meal.

Either by accident or on purpose, I'd never know, but I had my suspicions.

[raspberryranpo]

Hi! I've never made a request before, and I can't find a post that says if requests are open or not so I hope this is okay. BUT. If they are open, would I be able to request some fluffy headcanons with Felix, Sylvain, and the three head of houses (Dimi, Claude and Edie) if possible? If you don't write for characters separately like that then maybe just black eagles fluffy headcanons? I love your writing and I hope you have an amazing day/night 🥰❤️

general fluff headcanons

fire emblem three houses: dimitri, claude, edelgard, felix & sylvain

requests are still open by the way!! please just bear with me because i’m trying my hardest to get through a bunch of them this week after not doing anything for a while

DIMITRI

prefers to link arms with you rather than hold your hand because he’s scared that he’ll end up hurting you

loves to have you brush his hair when you’re getting ready for bed. on more than one occasion, he’s managed to pass out on your lap

going back to what i said before about cottagecore dimitri….. during your school days, he liked to talk about how, in the future, you & he would have a small house in the faerghus countryside, surrounded by nothing but nature

will gently tuck your hair behind your ear or pick an eyelash off of your face without worrying about embarrassing you because that never occurs to him

talks about you to his friends and the nobles he has to deal with as king too - they hear about you nonstop and it drives them absolutely crazy, but it’s still heartwarming to see the previously silent prince now blab on about the person he loves

CLAUDE

sometimes you can feel claude’s prickly beard when you both wake up in the morning & he always makes it a point to wake you up by rubbing it into your neck

blows raspberries into your skin whenever he sees an opportunity to. of course, he doesn’t do this around just anyone - mostly in front of lorenz just to make him uncomfortable though

whenever he comes home, he runs straight to wherever you are & scoops you up effortlessly, swinging you back and forth and kissing you all over

knows how to style your hair and will play with it at any given opportunity, meaning that whenever he’s bored and you’re bored and you’re both in a meeting, he’s reaching over to twirl a strand in his fingers

plays with the orphans in the monastery whenever he passes them by - for example, if they’re playing football, he’ll kick the ball around with them for five minutes and praise them, even if he’s needed immediately at an important meeting. it always makes them smile & he’s a favourite among them

EDELGARD

you’ve seen her talking to the cats and dogs dotted around the monastery on more than one occasion. she won’t admit it, but you both know that she does it

is 100% hiding a cat in her room and you can hear it on occasion through the window. the cat sometimes finds its way into the room next door (hubert’s) and you can also hear him fawning over it too

whenever she’s bored in a meeting, she’ll just lean over and rest her head on your shoulder, shutting her eyes once she’s sure that nobody’ll notice

has an exceptional singing voice. dorothea has asked her to join mittelfrank multiple times but she’s refused - however, she does enjoy singing you to sleep whenever you’re both together at night

you guys always have tea parties every sunday with zero exceptions. all you do is drink tea and talk trash about the blue lions with the hopes that one of them will walk past and hear. sometimes hubert joins, and those days are always the harshest yet funniest.

SYLVAIN

reads a book before bed every night, otherwise he can’t sleep. he has little reading glasses too & it’s the most old man thing he’s ever done. he’s also probably afraid of the dark too bless

every time he walks past you & you’re sitting down, he’ll either a) ruffle your hair and then kiss the top of your head, or b) push down on your head so that you hit the table or the thing you’re holding just to get on your nerves

will talk about the most random topics for hours on end - you could ask him about giant squids and he’d know everything there is to know, and then some. he’s incredibly nerdy & whenever he’s around you, his mouth just starts running, half out of nervousness and half out of the need to impress you

saying that, he probably knows everything about everyone, much like gretchen from mean girls. whenever there’s someone being mean to you, he’ll come out and say their darkest secret just to get revenge

genuinely listens to all you have to say without zoning out or talking over you. and he remembers the smallest things, too - you could mention how you saw a really cute necklace the other day, and the next thing you know, he’s holding it up in front of you

FELIX

is incredibly soft behind closed doors. i know i say this every time i do something fluffy for felix, but it’s true. he can’t bring himself to even hold your hand otherwise because he’s too busy worrying about whether his hands are too sweaty or if he’ll crush your hands

instead of holding hands, though, he’ll gladly hold your pinky. every so often he squeezes it just to let you know that he’s still there and that he still cares about you

everything you look at in shops, he buys, zero hesitation. even if you protest, he tries to reason that you deserve it and that money is of no relevance to him whatsoever. he purely just wants to see you happy

he (very reluctantly) took you to meet his father once. rodrigue loved you, saying that you’re a good influence on felix, and that he hopes that felix is treating you right. baby pictures are shown, and felix is fuming by the time you leave

felix also has reading glasses and no i do not accept criticism. he doesn’t even read that often, but he knows that you think he looks cute with his dinky glasses on, so he puts them on more often. they slide down his face sometimes & he blushes when you push them back up for him

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

relief~zeke jeager x reader

credit to verbartt

-

wrote this at fuckin 5 am. dont mind spelling/grammar errors

not modern au

warnings/tw; smut, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m! receiving), mouth fucking, kinda rough, smoking, a little angst and fluff

“still get brain when I smoke cigarettes”

summary; zeke has been too stressed, so you help take some weight off his shoulders.

w.c; 2.0k

••••••••••••••••••••••

zeke never let himself breathe for a second, he was always moving around, stressing over everything warriors related. even if he got some time off, he couldn’t stop the swarm of thoughts that would bug his mind.

you were fifteen when he first pressed his lips to yours, so excited to finally inherit the beast titan, something he had trained for nonstop. the kiss was so sweet, as your hands rested in his soft cheek and grabbed at his blonde hair, running your hand through his undercut, he was seventeen at the time. your little sneaking around turned into a mature relationship, him asking you to move in with him when you turned eighteen.

you were now brushing through your hair, untangling the locks slowly as you glanced at the clock on the wall, it was almost midnight, zeke should be back from his meetings by now. you wanted to surprise him. you knew he was under a lot more stress right now as he usually is, having lost the colossal titan to paradise, and not even being able to return the attack and founding titan. he was so overwhelmed, and you wanted to help him as much as you could.

so you wore his favorite set of lingerie, white matching lace panties and bra, the bra was barely there, the flimsy material showing your nipples fully.

as soon you heard the sound of the locks on the door of your home being turnt, you made your way to the living room.

and there he stood, head pressed back against the wall, pinching between the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb, eyes scrunched shut. he was wearing his everyday “warrior” look, the cream colored coat with his white shirt underneath, red tie matching that god forsaken armband.

you stepped closer to him, your hands traveling to his shoulders, he flinched as his eyes shot open, his face relaxing again as he saw your face, “relax baby, it’s just me.” you smiled at him as you caressed his cheek, his beard tickling your palm. he sighed, leaning into your touch, “i’m sorry, it’s just today was so fucking stressful, reiner and porco got into an argument, and magath wanted to talk to me about how—“

you cut him off, not giving a shit what magath wanted to talk about. smashing your lips on his, he hummed as your tongue pressed against him, wanting to fully kiss him. his eyes slowly fluttered and closed, giving you permission into his mouth. your tongues danced with eachother, cleansing his brain from all thoughts about his work. only you mattered now, only your lips, only your tongue, only your smell. only you and your presence.

his hands started making their way to your waist, stopping when he felt your bare shoulders and the lace wrapped around you. he pulled back, looking down at you, as his eyes glistened with lust. he looked you up and down a last time before stopping on your face.

“you got yourself all pretty for me, baby?” he said with a lopsided smile, you nodded enthusiastically. he ran his hands along your waist, stopping on your hips. he kept his gaze on your eyes as he gave a harsh slap to your ass, making you squeal and jump forward into his chest, he kneaded the flesh with his palm. looking down at you as your noses were almost touching. he gave another squeeze to your ass, “jump.” and you did, you knew he would catch you. he always would.

he lead you both to the couch in the living room, putting you down as he sat down on the couch infront of you. you looked down on him, waiting patiently as he loosened his tie, tugging on it with his veiny hands. he threw his coat on the other couch and started unbuttoning his white shirt, leaving it on.

you stood there, playing with the small white ribbon on your panties, now getting impatient, but you knew zeke would like to take his time with you, especially if he was stressed, he would want your time together to last forever. he grabbed his pack of cigarettes, putting one between his lips as he lit it with a match. he put his left arm behind his head, sinking into the couch, right hand taking the cig from his own lips as he blew out some smoke.

he moved his two fingers holding the cigarette up in a swirling motion in the air, “give me a twirl, would you?” you twirled, circling around yourself as you turned again and stared at him. he was a sight for sore eyes, one leg on the other, cigarette between his lips, white shirt unbuttoned, giving you a sneak peak of his toned abs and the blonde trail that led down to where you wanted most. his bulge prominent in his pants, making his pants unbelievably uncomfortable.

he grunted as he took another hit of his cigarette and blew the smoke out, turning the short bud off in the ashtray next to him on the couch.

he immediately brought another cigarette to his lips, lighting it as he nodded his head towards you, “come here love, on your knees.”

you obeyed, walking towards him and kneeling right infront of him, your face leveled with his crotch, eyes looking up at him with innocence and love swirling in them. he brought his free hand down to your face, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear. he held the side of your face as his thumb drew circles on your hair.

he brought the cigarette in between his fingers down to your mouth, grabbing your jaw and putting it between your lips as you took a puff, he tightened his fingers on your jaw and quickly closed the space between you both by bringing you forward. your noses touching, you blew the smoke into his mouth, he inhaled it eagerly and leaned back into the couch.

he looked down at you with hooded eyes, “go on then.” you leaned forward as you balanced your elbows on his thighs, pressing a soft kiss on his clothed length that was begging to be released at this point. your hands made their way to his belt, opening it slowly.

you slid his pants down to his ankles, looking up at him as you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, his eyes filled with lust as he took another puff of his cigarette, tilting his head back on the couch and giving you a show of his neck flexing as he blows the smoke in the air.

you finally take off his boxers, his cock finally being freed from its restraints and slapping his stomach. the tip was flushed red, pre-cum coating it. he groaned, bucking his hips up, making the thick tip hit your cheek.

you wrap your hand around his length, your hand looking tiny compared to the generous amount of length and girth he had to give. you were practically drooling at the sight, the sound of another match being lit made you look up, he was lighting another cigarette. nodding and motioning for you to continue as he inhaled and exhaled the smoke.

you kiss the tip, before licking it and putting it in your mouth, earning a grunt from zeke. his free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, taking another puff from his cig, “gonna fuck your mouth ‘kay? stay still for me, love.” he says with a deep voice, making you press your thighs together as you nodded.

his hold on your hair grew tighter as he brought your head down his length slowly, you hummed around him, your eyes rolling back as you squeezed his thighs, giving up control. “good fuckin’ girl.” he started bobbing your head slowly with his hold on your hair, “that’s it,” his voice broke midway as his head fell back on the couch, taking a puff from his cigarette, his hand stroked your hair as his hips bucked up into your mouth.

tears brimmed around your lashes, his cock hitting your throat with each thrust as you moaned around him, you couldn’t take all of him, so you tried to put your hands on where your mouth couldn’t reach, quite a lot of it too. but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist and shaking his head, “only want your pretty mouth, baby.”

you were aching at this point. rubbing your legs together to find some kind of friction, that didn’t go unnoticed by zeke. with a growl, he pulled you off of his cock, grabbing your waist and putting you down on his lap. he quickly threw the rest of the small bud of his cigarette in the ash tray, moving to plant wet kisses on your chest.

you moaned and squirmed as he kept kissing your neck, biting and nibbling occasionally to leave marks. his cock, still wet with your saliva rubbed against your clit through your lace panties. he brought his hand down, pushing your underwear to the side as he raised you by your waist, positioning you above his glistening cock.

he looked up at you with a smirk, your eyes filled with tears of lust and need. he slowly brought you down, your mouth wide open as you took him in. he was barely halfway in as he hissed, “s’ fuckin’ tight.” you gasped and squeezed his biceps as he brought you down completely, burying his eight inches in you.

your tits pressed against his chest as he groaned, giving light kisses to your shoulder, he set a slow pace by guiding your hips on to him. both of you panting messes.

you wrapped your hands around his neck, you were both lost in eachother’s eyes. he clenched his jaw the same time you clenched around him, ���fuck, i—argh i missed you baby, been so fuckin busy.” you nodded, moaning as you tugged at his hair and brought his lips to yours. the kiss messy and sloppy as your tongues wrapped around eachother. “i missed you too.”

he tightened his grip on your hips, fucking into you at a fast pace as his balls slapped your ass with each thrust, the sound of it mixing with both of your moans and promises.

“z-zeke! ‘mmm gonna cum..” you whimpered, clenching around him tightly, teeth biting down so hard on his shoulder that it drew blood, “c’mon love, come for me, gonna fill this tight cunt up s-so good. ” he rubbed slow circles on your clit with his thumb as he kept fucking into you. with one last thrust, he released in you with a grunt, thick white ropes filling you up as you came down from your high.

your head lay on his shoulder, beside your ear you could hear the sizzling and feel the hot steam coming off your previous bite mark, his skin healing soon after you had marked him.

you drew small circles around the healing skin, sighing, you could never mark him. you really wanted to, you wanted for everyone to know that he is yours. especially his stupid fan girls all around marley. he buried his head in your neck, inhaling your smell that calmed him whenever. “i’m sorry.” he muttered against your ear.

you grabbed the back of his hair, making him look at you, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your other hand playing with his beard. “don’t mention it.”

it wasn’t his fault anyway, it was his titan powers. you didn’t want to think about it, you already spent too long doing so when you’re home alone. always trying to somehow ready yourself for the next couple years when he’s going to— you would fail, always ending up a sobbing mess.

you ran your hands though the back of his hair, smiling, “you need a haircut, zeke.”

he squinted his eyes, “no i don’t.”

you flashed him your tongue, tugging on his hair slightly, “i want your undercut back. the one you had when you first kissed me,” he raised his brows “and i’m gonna give it to you myself.”

•••••••••••••••••••••

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusist, do not repost or copy any of my work

i am not a zeke fucker. no. still hate him. still not over season 3. or 4.

okay maybe i feel a little bad for his backstory

NO. *also cries when grisha yelled at him— or when they -MANGA SPOILERS- when he told zeke he loves him :((*

anyway no. i’m a levi fucker for life. levi hates him i do too.

*also daydreams about going down on zeke when he’s smoking* UGH OKAY BYE

[star--anon]

Work

I suck at signing asks smh Anyway, @ticklish-wilbur, *slaps tag on fic*

*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✩ ೃ༄*ੈ ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✩ ೃ༄*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ

The dying sun slowly sank into the horizon. Its blood seeped into the sky, tainting the darkening blue into a deep scarlet. The red poured onto the clouds, making it look like tiny puffs of cotton balls were drenched in blood and were now floating in the sky. From the other side, the moon poked its head up from the ground, almost like it was cautious. A few stars were accompanying the moon, sticking to it like ants to a leaf in the middle of a pool.

A few birds landed on the trees outside Wilbur's window, brightly chirping into the growing dark. Red sunlight spilled onto the birds' azure feathers, painting them a rich violet. A thin breeze shyly whispered its way into Wilbur's room, circling around the dreamcatcher hanging on his wall (a gift from Niki) and rattling the beads and feathers. The cold wind slid on his skin, causing goosebumps to erupt. The trees outside swayed to the current, waving their branches as they sang along, creaking and groaning out songs as the wind picked up speed. The leaves rustled against one another. Combined with the birds' chirping, the branches' singing, and the wind's whispering, it sounded like the forest outside was alive.

Despite the beautiful concert playing outside, the whole of Wilbur's concentration was focused on something else entirely: the scrolls in front of him.

His charcoal pencil ran across his papers in a furious frenzy. Letters and words were hastily scratched onto the dry parchment as Wilbur rushed to respond to every letter and finish every important paper he had been given. The only time his pencil ever paused was for him to grab a piece of flint and shred off a few pieces of wood whenever the charcoal started to dull.

He was so invested that he didn't even hear his bedroom door creak open, or notice someone walking in. It wasn't until a worried hand gently gripped his shoulder was he aware of his company.

"Wilbur," murmured Phil, "I think a good idea would be to put the pencil down and go to sleep."

"In a minute," Wilbur mumbled back, shrugging the hand off.

"Wilbur, you've been working nonstop for the entire day..."

"I'm busy."

"You should take a break."

"Not right now."

"Wilbur, got to sleep. Now. Put the pencil down and take a break."

The boy frowned at the sudden edge to Phil's voice, but he didn't stop his work. Other than shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he didn't react, clearly deciding that the papers in front of him were more important.

"Wilbur," Phil repeated, adding more weight into his tone. "Wilbur, put the pencil down."

"Just give me a moment. Please? Just a moment?"

"No. No, because if I give you a moment, you're going to ask for another. If I give you another, you're going to ask for a minute. If I give you a minute, you're going to ask for an hour." Phil reached out and slowly slid Wilbur's papers out from underneath his hand. Wil sighed in defeat and let it happen, although he stayed hunched over his desk and his grip on his pencil only tightened. "I meant it, Wilbur. Put the charcoal down."

"Give me a reason why I, and independent twenty-four-year-old, should listen to you?"

"Because I'm your dad and I'm telling you to."

"So what?" And perhaps it was because Wilbur was currently fueled by nothing but forty minutes of sleep and eighteen bottles of speed potions (sugar and netherwart mixed together creates a caffeine-like effect), but he was starting to feel oddly woozy. Random confidence burst into his sleep-deprived mind. He stuck his tongue out at the avian. "You gonna tell me to go sit in the corner, Dadza?"

Phil chuckled. "Nope. Even when you were young, sitting in the corner wasn't a punishment for you. But there was one surefire way to get you to listen.

"Yeah? I don't remember that." Wilbur scrunched up his face, pretending to think. His body stiffening and hands moving to cover up his stomach betrayed his knowledge of what Phil was talking about. "Was it maybe counting the three-EEE! Phihihihil!"

"Starting to remember now?" teased Phil.

"Fuhuhuhuck youhuhu!"

"Here, maybe this'll help you remember." Phil delved his hands into Wilbur's armpits and swirled his fingers around, tormenting the sensitive nerves. "Anything?"

"Y-Youhuhu're gohohoing t-toho mahahahake mehehe drohop ihihihit!" squealed Wilbur. Good charcoal pencils didn't come by often; wood and charcoal often being quite the luxury items. Wil wasn't in the mood to drop his favorite pencil and risk breaking the delicate charcoal stick inside the wood casing.

"Yes, charcoal pencils are very expensive," Phil conversationally said, almost like he had read Wil's mind. "Don't drop it because I'm not interested in spending another stack of emeralds on your pencils. You'll have to make-do with a quill and squid ink."

"I-Ihihi'm tryhyhyhying!" Wilbur just about shrieked when Phil moved to poke, prod, vibrate, and tease his ribs in any way. "Ack! W-Wahahahait! Phihihihil, cohohohome ohon, thihihihis ihihis chihihildihish!"

The avian didn't say anything back, only speeding up his fingers, which earned another shrill squeal. Wilbur thought he was playing the quiet game to further torment him until he heard Phil softly whispering, "...four... five... six... seven..."

"Ahahahare youhuhu fuhucking couhuhuhunting?!"

Phil flashed him a toothy grin. "Gotta make sure you have the right amount of ribs, right?"

"Whyhyhyhy thehe fuck-"

"Language," Phil warned. Then he paused. "Dammit, you made me lose count."

"Wh-Whahat?" giggled Wilbur.

"You made me lose count," he repeated. Phil shrugged. "Eh. We'll just start again. One... two... three... four..."

"Oho, youhuhu ahahahsshole!" Wilbur cackled. He tried to say more, but Phil dug his fingers in between his ribs and squeezed with his other hand, and his laughter went silent.

Smirking, Phil leaned closer to Wilbur, who was feebly trying to thrash his way off his chair. "I'm slooooowly making my way down your ribs... You know where I'm going next, don't you~?"

A sharp gasp came from Wilbur as his laughter slowly turned audible once more and he managed to get some air into his lungs. Still laughing helplessly, he reached out and slammed his pencil on his desk, no longer caring about the delicate charcoal breaking.

Despite this, Phil still pushed his shirt up and began to mercilessly tickle the scar on his stomach. What little break Wilbur had managed to get was immediately erased.

"PHIHIHIHIL!" the poor boy shrieked. "ST-STAHAHAHAP! I-IHIHIHI PUHUHUT IHIT D-DOHOHOHOWN!"

"I noticed," Phil simply replied. Whether or not Wilbur heard him, he wasn't sure.

The sun had left the sky, now completely hidden by the horizon. The moon inched its way up, clawing at the darkness for purchase. Thousands of stars were dragged along with it, each speck of silver light chasing the moon, as if captivated by its beauty. Without the sun around to illuminate them, the clouds faded into the dark. With the clouds no longer visible, the skies looked as though someone had spilled glistening white glitter over a pool of ink.

The birds outside Wilbur's window had left their earlier perches and flew home to sleep. The raging wind blew through the trees, ripping at the leaves and snarling loudly. The trees responded equally as loud, screeching at the gale. This was the thunderous part of the forest's song, where the gentle hums of the birds were gone, leaving only screaming and wailing from the wind and leaves.

Despite the beautiful concert playing outside (and the absolutely stunning moon who I've been trying to get the attention of for years), the whole of Wilbur's concentration was focused on something else entirely: getting away from Phil, who was blowing raspberry after raspberry on his scar.

(not revised so I'm sorry if this is terrible HHHHHHHH-) -🌟

[brxceliiande]

NIGHTMARES (Daniel Jackson X Fem!Reader)

AFTER THE WAR, Y/N AND DANIEL RETURNED HOME AND SETTLED DOWN IN THE COUNTRY, BUT THE WAR STILL HAUNTED THEM.

genre : hurt/comfort / small fluff

warnings : swearing (barely), nightmares

word count : 990

NOTE: this is my first imagine in a long time, sorry if there are any errors. i made it so the squad was alive at the end and that they only lost caparzo and wade.

----–––––––––––––––––––––---------

it started small, with tiny twitches, jerks, and mumbling. it happened every night they slept. the dreams kept getting worse, to the point where one would wake up the other with screaming. y/n got used to it, as did daniel. when one woke up, the other comforted and held them until they fell back asleep. they would whisper things into their ear and lace their hands together. it was a nightly routine, but this night was not like the others.

the bedroom was at freezing temperatures, the snow outside fogged the windows and the fire burnt out. silence took over the room, the soft snores and creaking of the bed breaking it. a breeze whistled outside, moving through the trees and the windchimes on the porch.

rolling over, y/n huddled herself into a ball, pulling the blankets over her instinctively. tucking it under her feet, she snuggled deeper into the back of daniel, attempting to get warm. he was like a furnace. heat radiated off of him nonstop, it would get annoying, but on cold nights, it was the warmest she’d ever felt. wrapping an arm around his waist, y/n opened her eyes slightly.

vibrations came from daniel, quiet sniffles following. his body began to shake harder as each sob came out louder. holding him closer, y/n ran her hand along his chest and arm in an attempt to soothe him.

“it’s okay daniel, it’s done. the war is finished...” y/n mumbled, continuing her attempts at soothing him.

“why does it hurt-” daniel choked out, placing his hand on top of hers, “why does it hurt so goddamn much?”

shocked at his use of words, y/n knew it was bad. he would never use the lord’s name in vain, even when he was in the war. even when he lost caparzo and wade, he prayed for them rather than cursed those who killed them. pulling herself closer, she dipped her head into the crook of his neck. his neck glistened in the moonlight that shone through the window, with tear streaked cheeks and a runny nose.

propping herself on her elbow, y/n pulled daniel to face her. it broke her heart to see him like this. puffy red eyes, runny nose, and falling tears. cupping her hand over his cheek, she caressed it. the lump clawed up her throat and she held back tears.

daniel rested his head on her chest, squeezing his eyes shut as sobs continued to rock his body. chin resting on top of his head, y/n ran her hands along his hair and back. she wished she could take it all away from him. all the pain and sorrow he felt. the man she married before the war. his smile, his laugh, and his bright eyes full of hope.

“danny, honey.” y/n said, hoping he would lift his head, “look at me please” she choked out, “...please danny.” pleading, y/n put her forehead on his and caressed his face. tears slid down her cheeks, she couldn't hold it in anymore. lifting his head, daniel glanced at her before lowering his gaze. y/n grinned softly, “there you go danny, nice and slow…” daniel’s breathing became slower and slower.

“it was-” daniel started, but couldn't find the words. y/n wiped the tears from his eyes with her finger, “its okay, you don't have to.” daniel laid flat on his back, his arm underneath her and holding her shoulders. laying a hand on his chest, he stopped crying and exhaled loudly.

pulling the covers onto daniel, y/n laid in silence snuggled into his side. her head on his chest, the softened beat of his heart making her eyes heavy. her hand on his chest intertwined with his, while his other wrapped around her. it was silent once again.

“sometimes i wish i’d go to sleep and never wake up…” daniel muttered, removing his hand from hers and running it through his hair. “maybe it would make everything better.”

“dont.” y/n interrupted, hugging him tightly. “dont start talking like that now.” daniel looked up at the small headboard of their bed, tears threatening to fall. “we can make it through this together.” y/n stated, “nobody said it was going to be easy.”

daniel chewed on the inside of his cheek. she was right. they never asked for a war and certainly not the nightmares that came from it. it was hard for him to accept that. he was just another soldier from the war, one of the lucky bastards making it out alive. or the lucky not-so-lucky.

“darlin’,” daniel said, turning on his side and holding her in his chest, “why’d you marry me? you could of had someone smarter, better lookin, hell even without nightmares-” y/n silenced him with a kiss.

“i think you should rephrase that.” y/n smiled softly. daniel admired her, staring into her eyes and smiled. her beauty never ceases to amaze him, the smile and her eyes, the crinkle of her nose when she laughed.

“how'd i get so lucky to have you?” daniel asked again, earning him a kiss. y/n held his cheek in her hand as their foreheads touched, “now that is the right question mr.jackson” daniel chuckled and placed a kiss on her lips.

“i aim to please, mrs. jackson.” daniel said, holding the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss. y/n grinned into the kiss and pulled back, “i would love to continue, but the sun has risen.”

daniel groaned and released her, laying on his back. y/n laughed at him as she pushed the covers off and got out of bed. daniel looked up at her and smiled. it was a long night, but it was worthwhile, seeing that smile once again. it's going to be rough, but y/n had a feeling it was getting better already.

[anotheranimestan]

Sweet Intoxication

Tamaki fans!! Come get yo juice!

Tamaki fluff with a lil spice (just a lil)

wc: 3.2k

I can’t be the only one who thinks the Suneater is 🤤 I could write about him for days

Being UA High’s #4 ranked third year, it’s no surprise you’d created a great friendship with the Big Three. You were particularly close with the group’s resident “kitten” as Nejire liked to call him. You met during your first year when you were sat next to each other during class. He was so shy and wouldn’t talk to anyone except Mirio, even despite your many attempts at making conversation.

Until one day, you hurt yourself during practical training and he offered to walk you to the nurses office (much to everyone’s surprise). The entire time he was dead silent with a look of pure embarrassment across his face since you had to cling to him to walk. Once he dropped you off you expected him to leave while Recovery Girl fixed you up. But when you exited the office, there he was. Sitting on the floor waiting for you, his face riddle with concern.

When he spotted you his eyes lit up. “So um-are you okay y/n?”

It was the first time you got to hear his soft voice so clearly. It made your heart swell. You knew right then you wanted to keep him.

Ever after that moment you two stayed close and kept an eye on each other. He was still timid at first but over the years it blossomed into an air-tight friendship. You were practically apart of the Amajiki family after the amount of dinners you had with them. Not a day went by that you two didn’t walk home from school together.

That is until today. You see, during lunch Nejire let it slip that Tamaki had a crush on you when she thought you couldn’t hear. Little did she know you were standing right behind her as you approached the lunch table.

You were so caught off guard and your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with your best friend. His face was pure horrid humiliation. Mirio desperately tried to make light of the situation and pretend it was all a joke but the damage had already been done.

Tamaki immediately fled the cafeteria, knocking over a few first years on his way out.

You were still frozen in place trying to process what was happening. You definitely didn’t expect him to have a crush on anyone, let alone you. He never talked about romantic interests like that. And considering he tells you almost everything on his mind you’d think you’d have some sort of inkling about this.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by the horrible thought of how much of a hit to Tamaki’s self-confidence this probably was. He’d become so much stronger and more social. You couldn’t let all his hard work get reversed.

You chased after him but he was gone. Disappeared off the face of the planet for the rest of the day.

You were worried sick and couldn’t think about anything else but finding him.

As soon as the final bell rang you bolted for the Amajiki house. Of course his mother let you in with no hesitations and immediately informed you of his exact location (His room. Where else? That’s where he was always hiding). Although the suspicious look on her face told you that Tamaki’s condition must be bad. He probably came home early and locked himself away without a word. Not completely out of character, let’s be honest, but still it didn’t put you at ease.

You slowly approached his door trying to form some kind of plan to fix this. What was the best tactic though? Should you tell him? Tell him that you’ve secretly been crushing on him this whole time? Since that day at the nurse’s office when he held your hand for the first time? When his voice alone captured your heart. You were sick over the thought. You’d desperately tried to keep it a secret and hadn’t told anyone, even Nejire (for obvious reasons). You were scared that you’d scare him away with your feelings. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing but that didn’t stop you from constantly dreaming of kissing him or holding hands again or cuddling every night while watching his favorite movies.

You didn’t have an exact plan but you desperately wanted him back so you had to try something. Anything.

The door was locked. You knocked as gently as possible. He was easy to scare.

“Tamaki? It’s me. Let me in.”

You heard a miserable groan from behind the door. “Please leave me alone to die.” He plead from inside. Always one for the dramatics. Something you secretly loved.

“Come on! You’re really going to lock me out like this? A bit dramatic don’t you think?” You insisted, slightly amused.

And just like that the lock clicked open. You let yourself in. It was dark except a little glowing ball lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated everything up with an indigo glow.

He was sitting on his bed against the wall, hugging his knees and burying his face.

You shut the door behind you and stood for a moment. You really just wanted to run over there and cuddle him. Tell him every reason you’re putty for him. But you didn’t want to push him. There was an art to dealing with a mopey Tamaki and you knew it well.

“So how long have you been sitting up here? I hope you at least finally ate some lunch.”

He peeked his head up at you. You were rustling a bag filled with his favorite snacks. You saved these in your locker for moments exactly like these.

Your heart fluttered when you saw those eyes you loved so much. Although his eyebrow were furrowed in embarrassment, still, he looked adorable as ever.

You took this moment as an opening and slowly approached, careful not to spook.

You took the spot directly in front of him. He’d still not managed to look you directly in the eyes.

“Sooo...” This is where you had no game plan left.

You finally had the chance to feel nervous now that you knew he was okay. Your heart started racing in your chest as the anxiety coursed through your body.

“This is the worst day of my life.” He concluded covering his face again with his hands.

You rolled your eyes. “I think there are worse things.”

“Like what?” He said like he was proving a point.

“Like...” You exhaled and gave your honest answer without thinking. “losing your best friend.”

He groaned again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, y/n!”

Your head tilted. “What?”

“I can never talk to you again now.” The pure teenage agony in his voice was ridiculous.

You giggled. “You’re talking to me right now, dummy.”

“And now you’re laughing at me.” He leaned his head back against the wall in distress.

You reached up and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.

“I’ll be very offended if you stop talking to me.” You inform him with humor in your tone.

He looked down at you finally. You were breaking through.

“But...aren’t you weirded out?” He was grimacing at the horrible cafeteria memory that had been replaying nonstop in his mind.

You laughed.

“No more weirded out than usual.” You poke him in the stomach. He was aggressively ticklish so he jumped and grabbed your hand instinctively. Now you could see his whole face again and you were so relieved. You missed it.

His eyes were trained on your hands and he nervously played with your fingers. He did this a lot and it always sent butterflies flying in your stomach.

“You ran out the cafeteria so fast you didn’t even stay for my reaction. Also, those first years are gonna be looking for revenge tomorrow.”

He cracked a tiny smile.

“So...what is your reaction?”

The nerves were really electric now. You almost panicked. Were you really about to admit to your long time crush just how head over heels you were for him?

You were silent for a while which didn’t put Tamaki at ease. He was sure you were going to reject him. You were way out of his league. You were heavenly and pure beauty in his eyes. You could make him warm just by smiling at him that’s how much he loved your aura. How could you be into a loser like him. He could barely stand up straight next to you and the other members of the Big Three. You didn’t know it but right under the bed you sat on he had a hidden a sketch book filled with his drawings of you. Or at least attempts as he called them. He could never capture the curl of your eyelashes or the soft slope of your neck quite right. And the lips. They were always off. Yours had this perfect kissable quality to them that he wished he could experience rather than just draw onto paper.

His pining was interrupted by your sharp inhale as you began to answer. He looked at you under his thick lashes, dying to hear your response. It made your cheeks burn and the words get caught in your throat. Your mind must have overheated because it completely shut down and your body acted on its own.

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled his legs down from against his body and climbed onto him. You wrapped your arms and legs completely around his body like a teddy bear and squeezed him tight.

At first he was stunned but quickly recovered and hugged you back. Your hair was completely covering his face but it was comforting being indulged in your familiar scent of shampoo.

You two confided in each other for a long moment. No words could express what you were trying to say.

After a while you pulled back to look at him. Big mistake. The soft glow of the rich indigo light made him look dream-like. Suddenly you were picturing all the things you had been imagining doing with him...to him.

He wasn’t blind to the way you were staring at him. Blank eyes lost in thought and lips parted like they wanted something. You looked angelic. Sitting on his lap and holding him tight. You were exactly what he needed.

He knew this could be the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. But of course his usual anxiety was holding him back from experiencing you like he wanted. You were so so perfect. He couldn’t possibly...

Your brain switched on just for a moment to spill out a few incoherent words. “I want...this....you. I’ve been.”

Overwhelmed by your words he finally gave into his desires as his head dipped down into the nook of your neck. His lips hovered over your skin and you felt his hot breath ticking your sensitive spot. You wished he wasn’t so hesitant but you could also easily savor this moment forever. Tamaki was finally satisfying your craving for him.

Your hand rolled up gently into his silky hair and your eyes fluttered shut when he finally made contact.

His lips were so soft and molded perfectly into the curve of your neck. He slowly trailed around your collar bones and up to your ear.

Your face nuzzled into him as he tasted you.

His gentle touch made your heart swell and bespelled your body to curl into him more and more.

His tongue began grazing the tender skin he’d laid the ground work on. Dragging circles around your sweet spots and sealing them with kisses. His warm breath sending chills through your through your muscles.

The sweet rhythm of his breathing, his snug hold on your waist and the vibrating hums of enjoyment resounding in his chest...

He was mesmerizing. This little Suneater easily held you in a trance like it was nothing and without even knowing it. Your body was soft like dough, molding into him as you succumbed to his warmth. Your head had fallen limp to the side so he could access as much as he desired.

His voice was thick like honey as he shyly spoke into your ear. “You...taste really good.”

Your eyes were still locked shut, under hypnosis but a smile spread across your face.

“Does that mean one of your limbs is going to turn into me?” You said with a drunk little giggle.

He noticeably shrunk under your words. “Please don’t tease me. You’re making me so nervous already.” He cried desperately.

Your eyes finally cracked open to look at him properly. His face was wrapped in conflict and self-doubt as usual.

So many responses flashed through your mind but only one managed it’s way past your lips. There was truly only one thing you wanted to say anyways. “Can you kiss me please?”

You needed more of him, his previous performance already had you hooked and aching.

Red flush spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his pointy ears. His gaze fell under as he considered something. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I’m honestly surprised I’m even getting the chance.”

As if you weren’t already deep under his spell, his words managed to further melt you like butter.

His voice was dark velvet. A sharp contrast to his normal shaky tone. “I just want to ask...do you really like me?”

“Tamaki...forget like...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Your words slipped out of your mouth but it was like hearing them underwater. You were so detached from reality in this moment. Just pure bliss was conducting your movements while your mind was on hiatus.

His red washed face turned bashful as he tried to comprehend your words. He couldn’t stop a cute little grin from spreading across his face.

Before he could recover enough to verbally respond, your thumb placed itself on his bottom lip that was still lightly swollen from exploring your neck. The weight of your hand pulled it down to expose his pearly white bottom teeth.

This pouty look made him even more appealing, your mouth was practically watering at the handsome sight before you.

He acknowledged your hungry look as his invitation and his pouty lip puckered around the pad of your thumb. He placed kisses on each of your fingers and finally your knuckles before he pulled you close to him.

The movement wafted some of his cologne into your nose and just like that you were drunk on him again. He could have you.

His lips pressed into yours and it was like your whole world came to fruition. You realized then just how badly you’d wanted this. He trapped your bottom lip and gently sucked letting his tongue start it’s magic again.

Your arms contracted around his neck to pull him as close as possible and he respectively deepened his kiss.

He nibbled on your lip just enough for butterflies to start flapping around on your chest. Just when you think you’ve hit sensory overload he whips out something new. You already identified kissing him as your new addiction before your first kiss was even over.

His confidence was slowly building as he became more familiar with the curves of your mouth. Assessing exactly what you were liking by the barely audible gasps of euphoria you were making.

He strung you along for a while like this, each next move being more endearing than the last until finally he pulled away to give your lungs a chance to pull in some air. Obviously you didn’t want oxygen right now but at least you got to be intoxicated by some more of his scent.

“You’re so pretty.” He mused as his eyes glazed over your features. “And—and your lips are really soft.”

Suddenly a little self-consciousness washed over you. You weren’t used to his compliments like that. You accommodated this by nuzzling your face into his. Your lips were drawn to his cheek and you littered kissed all over, using your other hand to trace his jawline. He closed his eyes so he could focus on your touch. It was sending him over an edge having you on him like this. You felt his breathing deepen as you started gently sucking on the nook of his neck. Your hand fell and started exploring his chest. He didn’t look it but he was concealing muscle under his baggy shirts and you were dying to feel them.

Just when your teeth grazed the red blood pooled spot you’d been working on, a soft moan escaped his lips. He was lost under your control.

Without warning he shifted you down on your back with ease. Taking care to support your head as you fell onto the pillow.

He crawled on top of you between your legs and supported his weight on his forearms.

This sudden bold streak was really turning you on.

He spared no time as he tugged your shirt collar down just a bit to expose that sensitive part of your neck again that he just loved so much.

His tongue teased it with a few gentle circles before his mouth came down instense and started sucking.

Normally this sort of thing would hurt but you were so entranced that it only felt like a rush of intense pleasure. You ran your fingers through his hair encouraging him to do exactly what you suspected he was doing. You squirmed gently under his heavy body as he targeted your neck. Your hands slipped under his shirt and you got to feel the smooth skin over his broad back muscles which contracted as he moved.

Suddenly you let out a little squeal as the pleasure turned to a little shooting pain. He snapped out of it and brought his face back to yours. Nose to nose.

You glanced down at his work to see a little red bruise the size of a coin. For some reason you loved the idea of Tamaki giving you a little mark.

“Sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, his concerned face was so cute. It reminded you of that day so long ago when you first realized you wanted him.

“Put another one.” You said only half joking.

He laughed nervously. You took his face in both your hands. Today couldn’t have gone more perfectly.

“I didn’t reply before but...I want you too.” He mews with soft eyes.

Just when you think your body is completely melted, he finds one more spot he missed.

He placed a few more gentle honeyed kisses on your lips before anyone could say anything else.

But much to your dissatisfaction, you heard Mrs. Amajiki call for dinner. You were prepared to aggressively reject this interruption but Tamaki’s smile broke your resolve.

He tucked some hair behind your ear as he spoke again after what felt like hour had passed since the last time. “Can we do this again like...soon?”

He was aggressively adorable you could barely stand it. You merely nodded in response you couldn’t possibly form any coherent words right now.

You laid there, trying to unmelt yourself with little success. You could only gaze at your little Suneater with twinkling admiration in your eyes as he lifted you to stand up in his arms.

His new love bite was still exposed on your neck. He pulled your sweater up to cover it and kissed it through fabric as he muttered a few more quiet apologies. You immediately started thinking of ways you could try to permanently keep it on your skin.

You eventually walk down to dinner together holding hands, fingers interlocked. Yea...he was definitely your new addiction.

~~

Thanks for reading 🥰

[fukurodaze]

five stars: part 2 | two hands

IT’S EMBARRASSING: a third year cheerleader!reader x second year athlete!suna au

wc: 3.7k warnings: cursing

prev | m.list | next

a/n: happy birthday to suna rintarou <3

"i’m just saying, the tail just has you dive into the good bits first.”

your close friend, nakamatsu honoka, replies to you in a serious manner. the two of you are in a highly solemn discussion regarding which part of fish bread is to be eaten first, all because you had purchased some fish bread right before your student council meeting and honoka had just happened to catch you on your first bite after practice. now, honoka argues for tail, and you argue for the head. 

“yeah, but it just feels... wrong. i mean-”

you don’t finish your sentence, because there’s a high-pitched voice calling your name.

your head turns and the empty hallway reveals ueno momo, the student council’s treasurer, free of her usual budget papers in hand. she brisk walks in a little bit of a frenzy, and as she catches up with the two of you, she asks, “hey, you’re dating that second year right?”

suna? you want to answer.

“what second year?” is what you say.

honoka almost audibly rolls her eyes at your denial, knowing too well of your recent time spent with the second year middle blocker. he’s cute, honoka remembers assuring you, having seen you curled up into a ball at her house, repeating the phrases why and “uegrh” after the mention of suna’s name.

ueno lightly slaps your shoulder, “c’mon. you know what i mean.” she gives you the same smile she gives everyone.

“now, you’re going to the boys’ volleyball gym right?” ueno asks, keen.

“i mean i guess i could stop by, why?”

“i’ll come with you,” ueno adjusts her backpack, “it’s been a while.”

the gym is as loud as you remember it, even louder than the basketball team. it seemed like practice had just been at its peak intensity, and though you’re greeted with stoic eye contact from the coach and the sound of rubber balls hitting strong palms, there’s the unmistakably firm sound of a ball being spiked to the ground right in front of your face.

you would’ve shouted out a good “holy shit!” if it weren’t for ueno grabbing you by the hand and sitting you down on the bench near the coach.

you hear cheering next, and a bunch of glances towards you. it puzzles you how their faces, though smiling, seemed to possess a little glint in all their eyes at the spiker. 

of course, when it came down to everything, suna rintarou had to be the one who spiked the ball.

you glance at ueno, who’s fixated on the court, on someone on court, but you’re not sure who. still, you’re curious, “are you the manager of the volleyball team, or something?”

ueno doesn’t take her eyes off the court, “oh, no, i’m just close to the players. i like watching them play.”

you’re pleasantly surprised at the revelation, having not really known any members of the volleyball club except for a handful of the third years and suna, the boy who had found you sleeping like a rooster two mornings ago. he had even walked you to class for that day, and you’re not sure how to feel.

safe to say he had “ran into you” the next morning, and had walked you to class again.

you almost refrain from looking, because every time your eyes are on the court they somehow trace his figure instead of anyone else’s. he’s fast, and clever, and flexible, and sometimes even frustrating to watch because of how successfully he blocks. still, his face stays nonchalant, and though he looks in your direction from time to time, he always seems so unfazed.

his hand runs through his hair, shirt lifting up to wipe some of the sweat on his face, voice deep and loud when he congratulates his teammates.

shit.

his voice rings with every spike from his side, whether it be him or someone else’s. it sends chills down your spine, when someone serves the ball with a nasty spin, or when someone receives it so well that it makes an echoing sound. 

when the whistle blows and the players begin to run to the benches to retrieve their water bottles, you catch sight of ueno picking up a water bottle and coming back to her seat, watching as ojiro aran comes up to her and takes the bottle with a thank you, fingers brushing ever so slightly.

“are you two close?”

ueno only looks at you blankly, “i’m busy. i don’t date.”

suspicious, you furrow your eyebrows and lean back onto the wall of the gym, “the question wasn’t about dating.”

“what?” ueno defends, “ar- ojiro-kun is just a friend.”

“i never said anything about ojiro-san.”

“uh, yes you did. look, i’m not dating aran.”

you sigh in defeat, but pick up on the ‘aran’. it’s a matter of seconds before the coach calls the team over to the whiteboard rolling in from the storage room, numerous plays in hand for the interhigh. the coach’s and players’ voices are drowned out by your and ueno’s conversation, however, and it’s only when the coach gestures towards your bench with a shushing motion that you purse your lips and begin whispering to each other.

you hate to wish for a lingering pair of eyes on you.

when practice eventually ends, you and ueno keep sitting on the bench, talking idly as the boys get changed. just before the entire team goes back to the changing rooms, a solid glance from ojiro aran has ueno jump up and race herself to the entrance first. she tells you to stay “for a little bit”.

in the locker rooms, there is cheering.

“suna rintarou, everybody!” miya atsumu is the most entertained by seeing his friend, who is usually the one that makes fun of him, harbour something as small and harmless like a crush - on a third year, no less.

“dude, suna’s beast mode fucking sends.” ginjima adds.

“yeah, did you see how he lifted up his shirt there?”

a round of laughs, even from kita.

“and don’t forget the way he went,” atsumu bends his knees, mimicking suna’s posture in court, voice deepening, “nice one, oomimi!”

oomimi snorts, “didn’t know he had it in him.”

there is another round of laughter.

“ay, it works, though!” osamu chimes in, “if she comes to interhigh with us we might as well win with suna like this.”

atsumu, shirtless, has his arm around suna’s neck, still in his practice gear, voice so loud that it’s almost a direct scream to the ear. suna sees the first years giggling, the second years cheering, and the third years stifling their smirks.

this has been going nonstop for weeks.

“hey, have you even talked to her though?” ginjima comes up to suna as atsumu puts his uniform back on.

suna raises a finger, “why am i supposed to tell you everything that happens between me and her?”

“so you did talk to her?” his voice is loud, and half of the room pans to suna.

“we were just walking-”

“shit, you walked her home?” osamu slides himself back into the conversation.

“not home. we just walk and talk or whatever.”

atsumu has his backpack on already, “hey, progress is progress. don’t you wanna date her?”

suna groans. he finally opens his locker.

“are ya actually serious about dating y/n-san?” aran mutters to suna from the locker beside him, and he almost nods. aran takes it as a yes.

“oh shit. good luck with that. don’t take it personally if she’s too busy for you.” aran shrugs, buttoning up his uniform. 

suna squints at the boy, “and how would you know?”

aran smirks, though it seems like he freezes for a split second, “nah. yer right. i wouldn’t.”

one by one, the boys exit the changing room. the twins had decided to go home together, aran by himself for unknown reasons, akagi with oomimi, kita back to the gym, and ginjima waiting for suna.

conversation unrelated to suna’s love life begins to fill the room, and suna is grateful for it. is it his fault for not wanting to talk about you? he’s eager towards you, yes, but that doesn’t help the fact that he’s practically always an internal hurricane whenever you’re near. it even surprises him how he’s gotten to walk you to school for two days now.

“our cheer team is fucking insane though. have you seen their basketball routines? sucks that they’re only on the bleachers for the interhigh.”

“yeah. the marching band doesn’t have as much time to play as well. and the cheer team can’t do any of those basic shoulder sits or basket tosses.”

ginjima raises an eyebrow, “right, and you would know what a basket toss is.”

“i don’t,” suna opens his mouth, before closing it again. you had told him about a basket toss. 

“y’know, you should just ask her out.”

“why?” suna has his backpack on, hands gripping the straps.

“whaddya mean, ‘why’? suna, she’s known in school for all these things. what if someone asks her out before you get to?”

suna tsks, and the grip on the straps of his backpack tighten. there’s a tiny sinking feeling in his gut that tells him he’s not good enough - at least, not for you.

the two walk out of the locker rooms and into the now empty gym. ginjima spots you first, still on the benches, looking through your phone, and he elbows suna in the rib before running to the entrance of the gym.

suna is left confused, slightly surprised, and makes eye contact with you. he comes over.

“hey.” he has his hands - three fingers, actually - in his trouser pockets.

you look up from your phone and stand up, “hey.”

“were you waiting for someone?” suna hates how the question comes out.

“well-” you’re not sure what to say, so you pull up your phone, “i was scrolling through food menus and seeing which ones were the best ones to get delivery. nobody’s going to be home, so i figured delivery would be good.”

“there’s this obaa-san nearby that sells fish cake soup and rice balls. we could get that.” he leads you out of the gym, and the two of you walk together.

“we... yeah. we could.” you try to quicken your walking pace to keep up with him.

(he slows down for you.)

the obaa-san’s place is almost like a hut with a few benches and a table behind the school. suna orders the food with a wave and receives a ‘have a good meal, rin-chan’.

“how do you know the obaa-san?” you cross your legs as the two of you settle on the school’s entrance stairs.

“she works as my landlord. the school kind of pays her for me and other recruited athletes to stay there.” he unpacks the fish soup in high-quality plastic containers and passes one container to you along with two rice balls. you tell him thanks.

you chuckle when he takes a tiny bite into his rice balls, “so, rin-chan?”

suna almost chokes. it makes you laugh.

“it’s, like, such a cute name for...”

suna waits for your answer. you finish lowly, with a cheeky smile, “a person like you.”

“you saying i’m not cute?”

there’s a bright look on your face, teeth showing and eyes crinkled. you swat your hand that’s not holding your rice ball, “that’s not it!”

“i’m going this way,” you motion. suna waves his hand as he stops on the roundabout where you turn, watching as you bid him goodbye. your frame, even from the back, is pretty, suna thinks, and he stays on the corner to see you off until you disappear into the other street.

but you don’t - your phone buzzes and it’s a message from the cheer team’s vice captain, kouno yuki, reminding you that the new cheer uniforms are still in the principal’s office, and that the principal’s good for nothing preference for their hundred-thousands yen school band over the ten-thousands yen cheer team would only result in the uniforms being stored in some absurd corner of the large school - again.

you make a whole 180 degree spin back to the direction of the school, finding suna still in the same spot he was before. he asks you as you jog towards the school, “what’s going on?”

“i need to go to principal’s office.”

“is she even still at school at,” he checks his phone, “seven?”

“i’m going to cross my fingers and hope she is.” you walk past him, and he follows you.

“you don’t have to follow me, just go home. i know you’re tired and all after practice,” you protest.

suna only shakes his head. it’s true that he’s tired, yet he finds that energy is the last of his worries whenever he’s with you - rather, his problem is having too much energy around you. 

suna stays behind you, brisk walking while you begin to jog with your backpack swaying up and down on your back. there’s one expression you make that burns itself in his mind; much like worry and concern, slight panic laced in your eyes and cheeks. he watches as you look at him once, and then straight ahead, because you never know how much an additional second might cost you. 

you’re going fast. but you need faster.

so suna begins to run. he runs, and the gap between his previous fast walk and your light jog is enclosed because he holds your arm gently as he guides you faster along the school’s walkways. the principal’s office is in building A, first floor. ten minute walk, five minute jog, two minute sprint - he estimates (he actually doesn’t know). but right now, you need to be there as soon as possible.

and suna can definitely do as soon as possible.

it takes longer for you to realise that the boy has your wrist in his large hand, taking you along with his speed. you make a sound of exclamation, noting how fast he is, and he mumbles a sorry that drifts behind him through the air and into your ears. it’s funny.

the summer air is cool and warm, and the sky finally gets darker. you see the outline of the moon as you try not to trip on the speed, and you concentrate on how it reflects itself on the current view you have of his back profile, tracing the small breaks and lines of his figure. when he stops, your eyes still linger on him.

“y/n-senpai?”

suna glances up at the sign on the door, and you’re snapped out of your daze, “ah, we’re here.”

he lets go of your arm, and there’s a small emptiness that momentarily plagues the area.

“the principal’s still in there.”

you straighten up your posture, hand combing through hair as you use the front camera of your phone to fix yourself. you turn to suna, “how do i look?”

he gives you an awkward thumbs up and a ghost of a smile. “thanks,” you respond.

you give a knock on the door, and you hear a “come in!”. the door slides open.

you bow respectfully, and suna towers behind you, bowing as well. “just in time. i was about to throw away all these uniforms after they piled up in my room. there are lots of cheerleaders, it seems?”

you force a laugh, “yes, there’s around twenty. we usually split up for different routines with different teams throughout the year.”

“right. now that the badminton team is starting practice, where are you practicing again?” the principal is stern, yet her voice is high-pitched and gentle. it scares you sometimes.

“we’re alternating between the volleyball and basketball gyms, ma’am.”

“are you sure you’re not disturbing the teams? basketball and volleyball seasons are very close together. even the volleyball interhighs are,” she squints at her desk calendar, flipping from the july page to august, “about three weeks away. isn’t that right, suna-kun?”

your head turns when she mentions suna. he nods promptly, but then adds, “the cheerleaders bring lots of energy to the gyms, ma’am.”

the principal raises her eyebrows, “well, if you say so. i still think the band works just as fine. the band makes a rhythm. all cheerleaders do is follow it with their... pompoms, or whatever.”

there is a silence that you don’t know how to break. you freeze unresponsively.

“so, can we pick up the uniforms?” suna says, gathering his guts. you perk up, and so does the principal.

“right, the boxes are on that corner. the person told me you ordered ten medium, five large, five small?”

you nod, and before you know it, you’re carrying a box of ten medium-sized uniforms while suna carries the other ten. the two of you bow again to the principal and she gives an absentminded wave as the two of you exit the room, and eventually the building, in silence.

once out, you start, “what the fuck does she have against cheerleaders?”

suna lets out a laugh he’s been holding the second he heard the principal talk. he adds, “i wasn’t sure if she was joking when she said that thing about throwing the uniforms out.”

“did you hear what she said? the whole fucking, ‘their... pompoms, or whatever.’ or whatever? bitch doesn’t want to acknowledge that cheerleading is a sport and for what!”

you continue, “not only that, the way she went like, ‘are you sure you’re not disturbing’? um, excuse me? of course we’re goddamn sure because we’re on opposite sides of the gym! and all of us know how to focus at least!”

you go on and on about all the things that the principal had said, only fuelling your anger at the principal’s passive-aggressive distaste towards the cheerleading team. you’re thankful that suna supplies your thread of complaints with laughter and agreements at least.

when you finish your rant, you take a deep breath and turn to the boy, stopping just short of a few steps before the cheerleaders’ club room. “thank you for being there with me, suna.”

just suna? without honorifics? suna wants to ask. he brushes it off, “yeah. no problem.”

“oh, and just thank you again for saying that thing. you know, about us bringing energy,” you trail off, but then pick yourself back up, “do we, really?”

suna, of course, knows from past experience that having you around a five-meter radius does some interesting things to his plays, but he makes sure to tell you sincerely and genuinely that the teams - or, the volleyball team, at least - appreciates the added warmth every monday and friday.

the two of you put down the boxes of uniforms inside the club room. you open your box out of impulse and a wave of excitement washes by, “oh my god, do you want to see me in uniform?”

suna flushes bright red - and it’s really obvious.

“you don’t have to get like that! okay, now shoo, imma change.” you swat your hands out, motioning for him to get out of the clubroom to change. it makes his palms sweat just slightly.

outside, suna tries to conjure up the image of last year’s summer uniforms, remembering their short sleeves and skirts, mostly white appearance with maroon accents.

his own mental image was proven wrong when you step out of the club room wearing a completely different uniform. this time it’s black with white and maroon details, ‘inarizaki’ in capital letters plastered over the back and front of your top. you do a little twirl, letting the wind sway your pleated skirt and rush slightly underneath your sleeveless v-neck top, smiling, “how is it?”

“i like y- it.” suna’s eyes widen as soon as he hears himself say it, so he tries to rewrite his words loudly, “it’s- it’s really nice. you look really nice, y/n-senpai.”

“thank you,” you look at him, “and you can call me y/n.”

“right. i’m suna.”

you chuckle, “you know, i designed this myself- okay, not really myself, but yuki helped me with it too. i thought the white got a bit tiring, especially since it doesn’t match with the rest of the school.”

“that’s good,” suna begins, but he doesn’t know how to continue, “yeah, that’s really good.”

suna finds that the night shines in your eyes better than any mirror reflects light; and seeing you, standing before him, smiling wide and eager to show him something you’re proud of, he only feels his heart soften and his harsh demeanour falter. somehow, he feels the urge to keep you close. 

when you come back with your school uniform on, the two of you walk again for what seems like the umpteenth time through school. still, neither of you complain - walking takes time, yet time spent with each other is always a good time spent.

“hey, suna,” you ask as the entrance gate comes near.

“yeah,” suna swallows, “y/n?”

“you live around here, right?”

he hums in reply, “just around the back.”

“oh. right.”

“why?”

his question catches you off-guard, “no, we just go in different directions. i’m at the bus stop.”

“my place passes the bus stop from here, so. i can keep walking.”

you glance at him to find his eyes on you first. “okay.”

suna’s mind comes back to earlier in the afternoon, when osamu had reacted with wide eyes at the concept of walking you home and atsumu edged on the idea of dating you. he remembers ginjima the most: ask her out, before anybody else does.

but suna knows he can’t do that - at least not yet.

for now, the back of his hand only hovers over yours, unsure and fleeting, wondering how it would feel like to have your hands intertwined.

taglist: @maitenight​ @natszoo​ @ssuna​​ @erens-piss-cleaner​​ @osamus-onigiri​​ @volleybloop @etherealiwa​​ @agaashesmilktea​​ @bicchaan​​ @anngelllla​​ @tycrackculture​​ @sins-over-tragedy​​​ @tsumuluv​​ @daichibrainrot​​ @underratedmage @sunasexual @kenmei​​ (if your url is bolded, it means i couldn’t tag you)

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

special thanks to roo @yooroomi​, as always, for beta reading this series!

[hellotvshowtrash]

Dead Girl | B.B

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: graphic violence including fist fighting, guns and knives, death, hella sad tbh

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: welcome to a semi part 2 of the fic no one asked for! While this is technically part two to My Girl, this can be read separately. There’s like... one reference to the first one and it’s fine. This fic is based on the song Dead Girl by Baby Snooks! Anyway, like/reblog/leave feedback if you enjoyed!!! Moodboard made my me!

Since you were kids, you, Steve and Bucky were inseparable. You didn't really have the choice with Steve, but, you enjoyed Bucky's presence. Steve watched as your feelings for Bucky progressed, from your first crush, to your first love, to your first kiss. Steve couldn't complain, he loved the idea of his best friend being his brother in law. Until the war broke out, you had talked heavily of marriage with Bucky. He kissed you goodbye the night before he left and you don't know if your heart had ever been more broken.

Maybe Bucky is the reason you followed Steve into the army, or maybe it was because you couldn't bear to let your twin go by himself. Project Rebirth wanted twins for the Super Soldier Serum, and they wanted to see how it affected women. You were the perfect guinea pigs.

After rescuing Bucky to subsequently lose him again when he fell from the train, all you had was Steve. You hadn't felt this sorrow since the death of your parents. Steve clutched onto you as you sobbed, his own tears falling onto the top of your head. "Til' the end of the line," rang in the back of your minds, and you vowed to always be by each other's side.

And that's how they found you, frozen and cold in the dark depths. By each other's side. 70 years is a long time to be frozen, but for you, no one else mattered but Steve. He was all you had left and, as you progressed into this new and advanced world, he was the only person you could truly count on. Even the Avengers, as they called themselves, were a rough group to melt into, to get along with. You tended to your own missions assigned by SHIELD. When it became clear the SHIELD was taken over by HYDRA, you and your twin brother were now fugitives.

You killed me on the inside

You pretty parasite

Ate me alive

From the inside

Everything came to a head that day when you and Steve were running from HYDRA. Natasha had stuck with you to clear out citizens, while Steve had tried to distract the notorious Winter Soldier by misdirecting him. Steve’s efforts proved fruitless. The assassin’s sights seemed to be set on you.

After rolling away and sprinting down the street, you and Nat were trying to clear the avenue of civilians. Bullets flew past you as the Winter Soldier marched in your direction, shooting after you. The two of you met up behind a car and crouched, devising a plan.

"You get as many civilians out of here as you can, I'll hold him off. He won't stop, so keep running," you instructed her. She tried to protest, but you stopped her before she could, "just do it."

You stood as Nat ran. You looked in the direction of the assassin heading toward you, his prey.

Crawling thru my veins

Preying on my pain

You began your stride toward him, running headfirst into battle just like you always did. This ghost of an assassin was relentless, and he seemed to only be after you. It was your duty to protect these people and give the Winter Soldier the fight he wanted. You pulled your handgun from its holster and fired off three shots aimed for the man's chest. You were confident in your aim, but he kept coming, seemingly unaffected by bullets, and for a moment, you second guessed your shots.

He lifted the automatic rifle in your direction and fired off a volley of shots at you. You rolled out of the way, crouching behind a car again. You breathed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration.

When the firing stopped, you stood again and ran full sprint toward him, lifting your own pistol to fire a shot in his direction again. You fired the shot as a distraction before reaching him and jumping up and spinning, wrapping your legs around his torso and neck in an effort to pin him down. You used your momentum to flip him onto the asphalt, landing crouched on your feet next to his head as his gun skidded across the rough ground. You moved quickly, straddling his chest and pinning his arms beneath your knees. You managed to land two blows to his face before his non-metal arm snaked its way up your waist and made you freeze. The action was so familiar, so ingrained. But there was no possible- you were shoved to the ground before your thoughts could come together in a coherent string of consciousness. The soldier had thrown you off of him as he stood and reached for his weapon. You scrambled to kick it away.

You let out a yell as the assassin stomped your leg under his boot. You snarled and pulled a dagger from its sheath on your waist, slashing at his leg from the ground. He stepped back to dodge your attack, giving you the opportunity to stand up and face your attacker. The Winter Soldier was more than a worthy opponent and you were starting to worry about your chances.

I was weak on the inside

Drowning in my pain

In the scuffle, the soldier's eyepiece flew off, exposing bright blue eyes encircled in black. Oceans you could swim in forever. No, that wasn’t right. He pulled a handgun loose from its holster, aiming squarely for your chest. You stepped to the left and ran behind another car, the shots following closely behind you as glass shattered around you. Your head pounded as you pressed your back to the cool metal of the car. The car jolted behind you as the Winter Soldier jumped on top of it, looking down at you before raising his weapon again to shoot. You twirled and kicked the handgun free from his hand before he could fire. He jumped down and in front of you, swinging a fist in your direction. You raised your arm to cover your face, effectively blocking his blow with your forearms. You pushed at him, giving you some space to dodge and attack. You shook your head and ran forward again, fists balled and dagger in hand as you jumped and raised the dagger, swiping downward to slash across his chest. He reached up and grabbed your wrist, stopping your attack and throwing you into the side of the car behind you. You groaned as you landed on the hard ground, holding your side. You heard his footsteps marching toward you and hoisted yourself up, sending a roundhouse kick to his jaw. He was unable to block your speed this time and he stumbled backward, the force of your kick knocking his face mask off. He stood away from you now, dirty brown hair falling into his face as he caught his breath. He turned to face you and you felt your heart stop.

There, standing three yards in front of you, was the love of your life. Apparently, not dead. Apparently, very much alive. Apparently, very intent on killing you.

“Bucky?” Your voice cracked as you whispered, too much distance between the two of you for him to hear.

Bucky glared at you as he breathed heavily before turning his body in your direction and sprinting at you ferociously. Your eyes widened and you darted out of the way as he raised his fist mid-sprint and plunged it downward, right into the hard asphalt ground where you were just standing.

Without thinking, you called out. “Bucky, it’s me.” A sob escaped your lips as you looked at him.

Ima dead girl,

Ima, ima dead girl

Ima dead girl

“Who the hell is Bucky?” His voice was smooth, just as you had remembered it. It reminded you of the bourbon he kept on the top shelf, the one that created a warm pit in the bottom of your stomach when you drank it with him. A harsh blow landed on your abdomen, sending you flying as you were lost in your thoughts. You landed against the car door, the back of your head snapping through the window. You felt the glass cut your scalp and blood drip down your neck and shoulders. You cried out in pain as you fell forward onto your hands and knees, your breathing labored and heavy. You swallowed harshly as you looked up at him marching toward you.

“Bucky,” your voice pleaded, “Buck, you know who I am, don’t do this,” you cried, still on your knees as if praying to a higher power that wasn’t listening. He reached you and hiis metal hand snatched a fistful of your hair and lifted you up to stand, his eyes not looking away from yours. For a moment, you thought you saw recognition in them, until his other fist landed itself on your stomach sending waves of pain rippling through your body. You realized there was no look in his eyes, only determination to complete his mission. Your breath left your lungs and your vision blurred as you doubled over and he let you fall to the ground. He tilted his head as he looked down at you, almost curiously. You had stopped fighting back and he wasn’t sure why, but it only made his job easier. You scrambled back and away from him, pulling a second dagger out of the holster on your thigh. He raised his eyebrows, almost amused at your futile attempt to defend yourself, until he felt the knife plunge its way into his thigh. You stood a yard away from the man when you threw it. You watched him pull out the dagger and throw it to the side as if it was nothing.

Ima,

Ima,

Ima,

Fuck it

"Fuck it," you thought bitterly as tears and blood streamed down your face. He was too strong. You knew he'd beat you, eventually. He came at you hard and intense, his fists throwing blows nonstop as you dodged and blocked him.

"Bucky!" You shouted, trying to get his attention. You pushed him away and backed up, putting some space between the two of you. Your mind was racing, but you only saw one way out of this. You began to lower your arms, slowly, no longer trying to fight back, only to defend. You looked him in the eyes as he advanced on you. Nothing in them gave the idea that he knew who you were, knew what you once meant to each other. That he once loved you more than anything. He'd never dream of harming you like he had today, and that's how you knew this was hopeless. You felt a trickle of blood run down your neck and onto your clavicle, the same place that Bucky’s lips once grazed and kissed.

How's it feel to see me out here choking, choking?

"Bucky, please, remember." You pleaded, holding your palms out to him. He marched forward, continuing his hunt. You squeezed your eyes shut as he reached you, his metal arm seizing your throat and lifting you off the ground. Your oxygen was cut off immediately as the machine beneath squeezed. He threw you down, making you slide across the rough pavement. You groaned and rolled, coughing and gasping. Before you could stand, he was over you, his feet on either side of your abdomen. He got to his knees and placed his metal fingers around your throat again, choking you.

"Bucky," a tear rolled down your cheek. There was no escaping this. "I forgive you, Bucky." You coughed and tried to continue without air, "I know you'll blame yourself when-," you tried to gasp for more air as your face started to feel hot, "when this all comes back to you, but don't," the tears were unstoppable now as his grip tightened. You clawed desperately at his arm, trying to pry it away.

"Stop talking," he growled. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, your vision starting to pop and blur.

"I forgive you, Bucky," you choked out. You tried to gasp one more time but to no avail. There was no air left, and you couldn't take it anymore. Your hand fell limply from his and your eyes slowly closed, one last exhale leaving your lips. He held his hand there for a few more seconds, ensuring his mission was complete before standing up and marching away, leaving your body on the cement. He had one more mission to complete.

Stripped me of my soul and left me broken, broken

Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky what he did. Years later, when Bucky was finally in his right mind. Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky where the love of his life was, who, beyond all odds, survived the same 70 years that they did, only to be killed by the one person she truly loved. Steve had to be the one to cry to his best friend who murdered you, his twin. Steve, once again, lost one of the only people in the world who meant something to him.

—

Always Taglist: @elijahs-wife @dumble-daddy @soul-revoir @akshi8278 @nikmikaelsonswife @njeancastro316 lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist

[albino-whumpee]

To me, you are...

This is a heavy one so please go carefully. It deals with a lot of dubious heavy stuff like slavery and the relationship between captor and captive. And, to answer the anon who asked what Zarai saw Albus as, if more as a pet or a friend, here´s your answer.

I´m a bit behind schedule, so I´ll be posting them in the next few days. 

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

CW// box boy blanket TW, pet whump, bullying, defiant whumpee, noncon touch (non sexual), conditioning, discussion of ownership and fucky views about slavery, intimate whumper, diffuse line between caretaker and whumper, lima syndrome, self sacrifice, collars, grief and anxiety attack.

Lunch breaks were the best part of the day for the albino. He would meet up with Sasha and Tony at the food truck down the street, settle down on a bench together and order two crunchy tacos Zarai would disapprove of, saying they weren´t real tacos, but the boy would gobble them up regardless. Lunch breaks were the only times of the day he could relax, after all. Even just a bit. 

The atmosphere at the office had just started to get somewhat calmer after Zarai´s intervention. Albus’ cheek had a fading yellow bruise when he went back to the building with Sasha, talking excitedly about Sann´s progress with sign language.

“Thank you for spending the last Saturday with us” the albino said, smiling as they passed their cards over the scanner and moved to the elevator “He has been nonstop studying since then” he passed a hand to his neck, feeling the collar under his clothes “I’m starting to get worried I won´t be able to follow him someday”

 “Why´s that? We can always practice at lunch” Sasha signed perfectly after punching the buttons to their respective floors. Slowly so Albus could watch her movements perfectly. 

“I mean, yeah, but-” the boy flinched when Sasha lifted her finger and shook it in front of him. The boy sighed and put his hands up “I´m just afraid I won´t understand him” he signed even slower, mouthing the words under his breath.

“You´re doing your best, Al” she signed using the white gesture. Albus cheeks flared up remembering Sann´s words when he gave him his sign name.

The other pet had put his extended hand over his chest and then pulled away as if taking a pinch of salt. Sann had told him it was like taking a part of your heart and giving it to the other person. A sign for kindness that meant white, perfect for someone like Albus, the other boy had said smiling at him.

Sasha elbowed him back to reality “Trust yourself you can do it, ok?” she signed with a gentle gesture on her face that made him smile as they came out of the elevator and walked through a hallway to Zarai´s office “Also he learns too quickly, it´s quite scary! I couldn´t have learnt to read and write all by myself at all, so trust me. You´re doing just fine and normal” she finished signing with a pat on his back the boy winced to before patting himself. “Just try to watch your mouth when you sign and…wiggle your eyebrows more, yeah? Gotta emphasize” she said walking away.

Albus groaned as he straightened up “I still do that?” he shouted across the hallway. Sasha nodding with an apologetic face. He sighed before he signed bye to her, already turning on a corner. 

 He then took a deep breath and stepped into the large room and walked with eyes cast down to Zarai´s office, feeling too many eyes nailed on him. He just had to get used to the piercing glares and low murmurs in the air. He couldn´t make a scene again. 

 However, Albus jumped away when he felt someone get too close and heard someone laugh as he recomposed. 

 “Sorry, what´s it Jeremy?” the albino said looking at the blonde blocking his view from the other people as he stepped forward. He blinked amused when he saw Jeremy standing between him and the door.

 “Sorry, Sir. But, uh, Mr. Glass is inside the chief’s office” he whispered just low enough for both of them “Should I tell him to go, Sir?” Jeremy asked with genuine worry in his voice that warmed Albus’ heart. 

 In the last weeks, he had stood up by his side and tried to not leave him alone. That got him some side eye from other coworkers, but he didn´t seem to care and he was still as efficient as always, just slightly more tired though. Maybe he thought he didn´t realize, but he was deeply thankful to find a kind person among the cutting edges the office had turned into. 

 “Thank you for telling me, Jeremy. But I´m ok, go take your break” He said with a forced smile. Jeremy opened his mouth but closed it and stepped out of his way. He settled his hand on the handle and stepped inside to find Robert Glass with the framed photo on his hands, leaning against the desk. “Mister Glass”

 Robert´s eyes lifted up to see the albino closing the door behind him, smiling as he set down the photo back on its place. 

 “There you are. I wanted to speak with you” He said, lifting himself from the desk and walking closer to the albino. “Oh? What happened to your cheek?” he said lifting a hand to stroke him, amusing himself when the albino flinched and he had to grab his chin to force him to look at him “Hey, hey, didn´t they taught you not to move away?” Robert said, feeling the pressure he was putting on his jaw underneath his fingertips. 

 “Yes, from my owner. Not you, Mister” The albino said through gritted teeth. Robert let go with huff. Albus tried to shove down the disgust and replace it with his usual poker face. Couldn´t be too hard to force it up again. He had been doing it since he stepped out of the box after all. 

 The albino breathed in as he saw the man walk away, passing his hand through the stuff scattered around his desk. All of it lined up exactly like Zarai wanted to. 

As the albino saw his hand hover curiously around his things, Robert fixed his eyes upon another painting on the wall. 

 “That´s not what you said with Jefferson was it? I mean-”

 “You´re not here to talk about me are you, Mister?” Albus interrupted him, his chest brewing with newfound anger. “Sann is absolutely fine now, if you wondered”

 “Oh no, I came to talk about you exactly” Albus frown grew deeper, eyebrows tightening when he put his hand up. “Don´t worry, I won´t touch you. I only came to talk” he giggled, picking up the stress ball over the shelf and bouncing it on his hands side to side. 

 “You know? People think Pets aren’t people anymore. More like animals or objects” he started, stepping closer to the stiffening albino. A smile formed on his lips “I know some refer to their own pets as it, but do you know why I don’t refer to Sann or you like that?” He said in front of Albus. Lifting one arm up to trap him between the wall and himself. “Because you’re a person, of course” he giggled. Before he simply stared at him from above. Like a hawk above the trees just waiting for the perfect moment to dive for its prey. “Doing to you what you couldn’t to any other human… that’s the thrill of owning a box boy” He whispered to his ear, a freezing chill ran through his spine at the sickly sweet tone of his voice “Zarai knows that too”

 “There’s info she has been hiding from you” he began. Sweetly noticing the confusion in his face “A boxie can buy back their freedom if they pay for their contract”

 It hit him so hard, Robert was enjoying seeing his eyes widen with each word. He kept his grimace hidden and continued to explain to the dumbfounded albino.

“Of course, it is almost impossible to buy something when you’re not even allowed to be paid in most cases…unlike you” 

 Albus breathed in deep. Processing the new info and checking if it was info he should believe or not. 

 “Is that really possible? I-I-I could really…I could even-” Robert knew by the way his eyes widened that the question he had come to install on him had settled. Already knowing which words would come out of his mouth after that. 

 “However” the man interrupted him “It´s a one-time chance thing. Only one contract each” he noticed the drop of sweat going down the albino´s face as his smile widened “If I were you I would think it more thoroughly, Albie”

 —-

 After her meeting was over, Zarai walked to her office and thought it was odd people stared at her. She opened the office’s door to find Albus talking with Robert.

 The boy turned his head to see her and then back at Robert “Goodbye, Sir” he said with clenched teeth before opening the door. Zarai caught his arm before he walked away and pulled him closer.

 “What’s going on here?” She whispered.

 “Nothing really, princess” Robert interrupted their conversation. Albus closed the door with a short sigh. 

 “Then what did you come all the way here for? You should know by now you´re not welcome here” She said with fire in her eyes. Robert made his jaw work but hid it with a smile.

 “Zarai, darling, when were you going to tell him that he could buy his own liberty?” Zarai’s eyes widened slightly before she recomposed. “You let him win money, but you didn’t give him an object to spend it on. Doc Martin from Marketing would be really disappointed with you”

 “Albus, go outside and wait for me at the rooftop” she ordered the boy who quickly set off. Silence sat in the room as Albus closed the door “What are you playing, Glass?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

 The man snorted and whistled “I was being honest with him. Might want to do that more often. Do you even know what he said when I told him?” His hands shot up in a dramatizing gesture. “‘Is that really possible?’ With eyes all sparkly and hopeful! You might wanna help him understand that even if it is possible, he shouldn’t be showing that emotion” Robert kept talking but when he noticed she was quiet he talked again “Were you planning to even tell him Zarai?”

 The woman avoided his eyes, “…eventually” Robert laughed.

 “Well, would you have told Sann about it?” She exploded.

 “Don’t get confused princess. I didn’t give Sann the means to buy himself out of this. That’s all” he shut her down immediately. Robert gave her a sympathetic smile. “You are so lonely, so desperate to have someone on your side, you are forcing the only one who can’t displease you, to stay with you” Zarai inhaled hard “It’s alright though. I understand you better than anyone” he said stepping closer.

“Nobody wishes to be left alone, after all. Animals won’t help loneliness as much as a human would, so we buy pets for our broken hearts and call it love when they laugh with us” Finally Robert towered over her before talking into her ear the few words she didn’t want to hear ever “but they won’t ever be the family we lost, Zarai. No matter how much they look alike or how much they need to be cared for, they’re not Sirius, nor Jarred, Charlie or Fran”

 “He´s not a replacement, Glass. I´m not like you” she battled the tears prickling behind her eyes.

 “I know, he’s not that kind of replacement” he leaned to whisper on her ear “I know we are not playing the same game Zarai” he said stepping back as the woman’s head spun and pulsed with how hard she was clenching her teeth “You never wanted a secretary to help you. No, you never needed him to be your secretary” his lips twisted into a smile “You aren´t made of ice. You could´ve taught them just like you did with him. But you never would´ve been so patient with anyone that could leave would you?” he said enjoying the small frustrated gasps coming out of her.

 “¡Suficiente!” She yelled pushing him away. “If you are so sure of it, why did you keep Sann? What was the point in that huh?” Robert finally shut his mouth for a second. “If Sann is just a fake why keep him around?”

 “For the same reason as you. We’re so lonely we bought ourselves company” he admitted. Making Zarai burst into tears.

 “Vete” he stayed still “AHORA, Glass! FUERA!” she screamed before the man walked out of the office with a grim face. 

 “You know I’m right”

 She slammed the door closed on his nose. She waited a while, trying to calm herself down, but the violent tremble wouldn´t stop.

 Suffocating and sweaty and feeling too heavy on her chest, she stepped out of her office and didn’t even bother to cover the furious tears rolling on her cheeks until she let it out on the elevator to the rooftop.

 She passed to the bathroom to put herself together.

 When was the last time she hid in a bathroom to cry like she was? College? No, a year after the accident. When she came back to work and all of the sudden after one of her meetings, she just couldn´t stop herself from tearing up. Then she went back home to cry on the kid´s beds clenching their clothes before she fell asleep. No, wrong the last time had been a few weeks before Albus came. 

 She heard the water run as the realization roamed in her mind and concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out. Since he came to her life, she hadn´t had an anxiety attack.

 Every day for the last eight months, she woke up to homemade breakfast and a good morning, she went to work and had the exact thing she needed on her hand without asking, she went to sleep and her fingers lazily unbuckled the boy´s collar before he wished her good night.

  For the last months she had glanced back over her shoulder and found the albino immediately turned attentively at her. 

 Her breathing hitched as tears rolled down without being able to stop them. 

 For the last months, she always had someone on her side making her company.

 Just like she requested on the WRU form.

 “Ha ha…I really am a monster” she whispered to herself with a sniff “A lonely…lonely monster, just like he said…”

 It took a long time before she recomposed herself and walked to the rooftop garden where Albus was waiting for her.

 His hair had grown a bit and had gained some weight. He was not the dirty, malnourished box boy on a crate anymore. He was the best assistant she had ever had, and a simply adorable and promising kid. Her hands fell on the handle and doubt overwhelmed her for a second.

  In the end, Zarai opened the door and Albus turned to see her with mild surprise. Fixing his posture and face when he recognized her and followed her movements. 

 If she asked him, if she let him buy it…what would he do?

 She had no other way to know than asking and her heart broke when the boy widened his eyes and sulked on the plastic chair in the roof, rounding his thumbs one over the other, before he breathed out and looked up at her. 

 “I made a promise to you, Ma´am” the boy said calmly, crimson eyes looking at her as he wetted his lips “And I intend to keep it. But…I had enough time to think about it here” he looked around the roof, seeing the whole city under him but eyes fixed on the ocean beyond the beach. He turned back to see her with a light frown on his face, looking too young all of a sudden “I´ll make a request, and this will be the only one I´ll ever ask from you, Ma´am”

 As the breeze carried his words to her, she froze. She saw the way the albino smiled at her, a bold pleading on his eyes she couldn´t refuse. After a long silence, she agreed. With a big smile to hide the sadness underneath, Albus thanked her.

 The reason for their agreement would be completely secret from the other two, no matter what happened, both vowed not to tell either Sann or Claude about their deal. 

 At night, her hands had trembled when she was supposed to loosen up his collar to sleep like every night. And the albino had looked at her with those big crimson eyes that softened as he settled her hand over his collar and she finished the task.

 “Good night, Ma´am, Mister” he had said before walking through the door. 

 “Goodnight, Albus” she had replied back and curled closer to Claude. 

 She would wonder later, why she had agreed to it. Why didn´t she stop him or offered the backup way she had planned to give him from the beginning, but she quickly found her answer when she looked over her shoulder and found, always found, the albino trailing behind her.

 She agreed, because for her, Albus was company that wouldn´t ever go away.

[slygirl666]

Where We Part (F.W)

pt 1 of we aren't just friends

authors note: this is a vent fic 100% it will be randomly updated and everything can be red as a one shot unless otherwise stated. based off of comfort songs or songs I’m just feeling. edited as of 9/9/21

summery: when your Boyfriend Cedric leaved you for someone new, the most unlikely person comforts you. 

parings: Slytherin!reader X Fred Weasley; (past) Slytherin!reader X Credric Diggory

words: 1,277

Yeah when I was young you could tie my tongue and weaken my knees

But the lines been drawn and I'm moving on, and another (boy) will come along

-taking back my heart by Rusty Clanton

you walked through the platform looking for your boyfriend Cedric Diggory, you smiled at the thought of seeing him after only being able to owl all summer while you were with  your parents on vacation.

You couldn’t find him before eleven, so you went on looking for him on the train. Through the front seats to the back compartments. You found him talking to Cho Chang in the middle of the train. He was leaning into her and she giggled shyly.

Cedric was a very touchy person, a flirt even, if it were anyone else you would have thought nothing of it.

But it was Cho freaking Chang, the “prettiest” girl in your  year. You and Cho had history, you were best friends until fourth year. You had been head over heels for Adrian Pucey, even going as far as asking him for help in the common rooms. Cho knew you told eachother everything, yet still a week later you found them snogging at your favorite reading spot on the grounds. You had never felt so betrayed, you wouldn't have been so mad if Cho had told you but she lied and let you run your mouth like a fool.

Everything turned up when you and Cedric were assigned a DADA presentation together. The two of you got along well, he was sweet and understanding. When you admitted your feelings had a smile that you thought about for weeks.

“Cedric, darling?” Cedric turned, sweeping you into his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead. You decided to put on a show giggling. “I missed you, two months was too long.”

“It absolutely was, sweetheart.” he pulled you towards a cart giving Cho a sweet smile you mirrored as she rolled her eyes at you.

* * *

With Cedric being one of the champions the two of you started to fall apart. You felt it but couldn’t help but hold on. Cedric was thoughtful, sweet and everything good in the world. You didn’t get enough of that at home. He was safe and made you feel warm and loved.

With all the buzz of the Yule ball you hoped he’d be willing to hold on too.

But in the middle of a lovely November evening, sitting in the courtyard he did it. He let you go. “Y/N, darling, we just aren't working. You’ll always be special to me it’s just we-”

“We’ve grown apart,” you laughed humorlessly. “You’ve been distancing yourself ced, its like you wanted us to brea-”

You stopped, he wanted you two to break up and for it to be on you too. All the cancelled study dates, too busy for a chat, the guys want to hang out today. You felt like a dumbass.

“Get away from me,” your voice cracked but you refused to let him see tears. “You did this because of her, didnt you?”

His silence told you everything as you walked off with all the pride you could muster.

You didn't feel like going to your dormitory, you didn’t have any friends in Slytherin so why would you. It was almost curfew but you couldn’t care less. The astronomy tower is a good place to get lost.

You walked up stairs when you opened the door the tears were nonstop. You couldn’t tell if it had been two minutes or hours when you heard a russell going on under where you were sitting.  You quickly whipped your face on your sleeves as the footsteps got closer.

“L/N?” you turned to see one of the Weasley twins. “Sorry I didn't mean to interrupt, filch almost caught me putting-”

Your sniffle interrupted him. His smirk fell instantly as he went to sit next to you. “Shit, what happened L/N?”

“Cedric broke up with me for someone else,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. Your head pounded and your throat felt scratchy.

“Git.” he rolled his eyes, moving a long strand of hair out of his face. “You shouldn’t cry over him.”

“It’s hard not to,” you sighed. The tears stopped but you could see the mess of mascara and eyeliner on your nose and cheeks. “Goddric, I'm a bloody mess over that prick.”

He reached into his bag pulling out a pack of tissues handing it to you, “you’re still a sight.”

You laughed, “I bet you’d say that to a crying troll.”

“Only if it was pretty already,” he laughed. This one was Fred Weasley, a school known flirt.

You sat in comfortable silence with the red head until you decided to head to your room.

“Thank you Fred, it means a lot that you’d sit with a crying slytherin.”

“L/N, it wasn’t a problem, and that pretty boy isn’t with your pretty tears.” he waved goodbye.

* * *

The Yule ball was an event that dragged. You showed up alone, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang would not be getting the best of you.

Your extravagant black gown showed off your cleavage and the slit in it was deemed scandalous, snape almost didn’t let you enter.

You sipped at whatever drink was placed in front of you. Glaring at the champions table as said couple looked sweetly at each other. When the dancing began you knew you had to try and enjoy it. You danced with a few of the Durmstrang boys who came alone. No one stood out to you.

An hour into it you walked out to get fresh air.

“You are thinking way too hard for someone looking so pretty at a party.” you whipped your head to the side, Fred weasley stood there looking handsome as ever in his dress robes. He eyed you up and down with a smile. “Lucky date you got.”

“I’m my own date,” you smiled at him twirling, your face dropped almost instantly. “Godric, it's hard to put on a smile and dance with some guys.”

“Saw you in there,” he nodded towards the door reaching into his robe for his flask. “Thought the rugged and built type might be something to get your mind off of Diggory.”

“Pretty boy is my type though,” you took the flask as he offered it to you. Taking a long drink you pulled a face as it burned through your throat.  “What is that?”

“Muggle stuff, it's a bit stronger.” Fred laughed at your face. “Care for a dance?”

“Won't your date mind?” you smiled up at him, you really weren’t going to refuse the offer but you wouldn't let him know that.

“She's been dancing with all our friends. I don't think she’ll care.” he offered an elbow to you that you took.

“Just one dance, Weasley.”

“All I want.” The warm rush from resenting the hall took over as the two of you walked in. The song playing was a slow muggle one you somewhat recognized.

You started swaying in his arms a respectable distance away. Fred rolled his chocolate eyes at you. “Not scared of a gryffindor are you?”

You shook your head in response but swallowed thickly.

Fred pulled you by the waist so that there was no space between the two of you. Even in  ungodly tall shoes he towered over you. He leaned his head down talking to you, forehead against your noses so close to touching you could almost feel the light pressure of it.

He led you in a soft sway that brought the two of  you in a small circle.

He cracked jokes in a whisper making you giggle at the feeling of his breath against your face. The song was longer than you thought it had already been a good three minutes and you were still so intensely wrapped up in this boy you've only talked to five times in the last six years.

The song struck a final chord. With a sad smile you took your hand out of his. “Thanks Fred, I needed a dance with a partner that I kind of know.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to  his lips brushing your ear to whisper.“Diggory didn’t take his eyes off of us.”

[chimchimsauce]

The Hills

The Hills have eyes

A commission for darling @illnevertrustmyselfagain​ 

Thank you for your patience! Commissions are open

A steady stream of sweat sticks YN’s thin T-shirt to her back and her hair to her forehead as she struggles under the weight of one of her moving boxes. It’s not all that heavy, but it's incredibly large and awkward to hold against her as she makes her way up the stairs. Finally, she sees the light at the end of the tunnel (or rather hallway) and steps foot into her brand new apartment, setting the box down immediately.

“Is there anything else you need, ma’am?” One of the burly movers YN hired asks her, sweat heavy upon his brow.

She’d brought the last box up herself, wanting to have the personal honor of finishing moving herself in.

“No,” she shakes her head, breathless from her own hard work, “That’s everything. Thank you, guys.”

She tips the men generously, knowing that it must have been extra difficult to move all of her furniture up the many flights of stairs in her new apartment building.

Now, all alone, YN can finally take a good look at it. ‘Apartment’ doesn’t quite seem to fit this new place. It’s massive - room after room with tons of space to put any and everything she could ever need inside of it. A small smile graces her face. 

She’s done it. This is all her. Working every single day for the past eight years and dumping all of her time and energy into her startup has truly paid off. She may have missed out on so-called rites of passages and her relationships have certainly suffered, but she’s done it!

That little startup that began in her childhood bedroom when she was in eleventh-grade grew to something so massive that investors sniffed around in record time. Soon enough, someone gave her a number bigger than she would have ever imagined and the decision to sell was easy. YN had given her company the very best she had, but now it’s time to move onto something new.

But before she decided to dedicate her life once again to a passion project, YN makes the choice to step away for a bit and enjoy her newfound wealth by moving to the richest neighborhood in Seoul - Hannam the Hill. The security ensures that she doesn’t have to worry about anything and the location offers her proximity to everything she’d ever want to do.

And speaking of location, YN drags her exhausted body to one of the many massive windows in her apartment, looking out and seeing the evening Seoul skyline. Buildings taller than anything she’s ever seen stand tall and proud like soldiers, their lights bright like her future. The businesswoman goes to bed with a grin on her face, her dreams full of lights that shine like stars.

Within a week of moving in, YN is more or less unpacked. All of her meager wardrobe has been placed in her massive closet and her dishes all unpacked, barely filling a single cabinet in the kitchen.

“Well that won’t do,” she says to herself, looking at her mostly empty-looking apartment.

In the past she spent the vast majority of her time at the office working, so her house was of little consequence She never even hung anything up on her walls. But now, now she finally has the chance to relax, to indulge and fill her life with color.

Grabbing her keys off of the hook by her door, YN decides that now’s as good a time as any to blow some money. She shrugs on a light jacket and heads out. Excitement drums through her veins and pep is in her step. For a moment, she’s in her own world, completely oblivious to everything around her.

That obliviousness leads her to run smack into a small, thin figure, nearly knocking the person off of their feet.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” she says, continuing on her way without questioning the person’s masked face too much.

She knows the Hill’s security is top-notch, so they’re certainly someone who lives here or otherwise has permission to be here.

Annoyed and exhausted, Yoongi glares at the retreating figure, trying to figure out if he’s seen that rude person before. Her face doesn’t seem the slightest bit familiar, so he guesses she must be the new neighbor who moved in a few days ago. Shoving his hands deep in his pocket he finds his keys and heads inside, not even making it to his bed before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, YN steps foot into the parking garage. Her car is fresh off the lot, that new car smell still clinging to her seats. She sets her GPS for the nearest furniture store and pulls away.

YN stays away from leather and white. Those were all her life had been - empty white walls and uncomfortable chairs and couches. She moves through the store slowly, analyzing each and every piece of furniture before settling on a bright yellow couch. It’s loud and undeniably eye catching, something she never would have even thought about buying before.

But now . . . the black card is burning in her pocket.

An hour or two later something of every color under the sun has been charged onto her card, destined to be delivered and put together in her home in just a few days.

And boy oh boy, does it feel good!

YN could swear the world is brighter when she leaves, walking through the streets of Seoul, boutique shops and fancy cafes lining her on each side. She comes to a stop when she sees an especially fascinating looking store and raises her hand to pull open the handle but stops when she hears a small whimper.

For a moment, YN thinks she’s making something up, but the sound comes once more. She pulls away from the storefront and peeks into the alley next door, carefully making her way down the near-empty valley. The whimper comes again and YN crouches down to open a sad looking box. 

There, inside, a small shivering puppy is balled up into himself, not even looking at YN. She feels her heart break. Gently, she lifts the small animal up, clutching it close to her chest and rushing towards her car, looking for the nearest vet.

Yoongi isn’t sure when the last time he left his house was. He’s been working nonstop, constantly leaning over his computer to write and compose. His work was easy initially, but Yoongi has been stuck on this bridge for only God knows how long now.

He sighs, pushing away from his desk to stand and stretch, ignoring the way his body screams out in pain and his bones creak. Chip bags and crushed beer cans litter the ground, Yoongi shuffling through the mess without bothering to pick any of them up.

Sunlight nearly blinds him when he steps into his living room. He tosses his arm over his eyes as spots swarm his vision, nausea bubbling up inside of him quickly.

Damn. He’d forgotten to close them last time he’d been out here.

Once he can finally look ahead without his vision looping he shuffles into his kitchen, plugging in his coffee maker and impatiently waiting for it to brew. The window his counter is pressed against to looks out over a park. Bored, he actually glances out for once, people in the distance not aware of the multimillionaire looking at them.

At first, he doesn’t see anything of interest, just the usual stiff-necked people wearing the absolute wrong thing to the park. But then, faster than light, a small creature dashes across the massive green space, a woman chasing after it. Yoongi thinks that maybe someone’s dog has run away, but it soon becomes evident that it’s some sort of game, as the dog starts to yip happily when the woman catches up with him.

A small smile makes its way onto Yoongi’s face as he watches them but it falls soon after. When was the last time he’d done something as simple as enjoyed a day at the park with his dog?

The coffee machine whirs to a stop but Yoongi doesn’t grab it, too lost in his own thoughts. It’s been how long since he broke up with his band mates and gone solo? Three years? Four? He honestly doesn't know. While at first, Yoongi had been all to happy to leave his twenties behind and move forward with his career as a producer and occasional soloist, it soon set in how terribly lonely such a decision made him.

He’s much too well known to simply stroll about how he could when he was a teenager, just another face in an endless stream of people with dreams. But once he reached that dream - once the words “Min Suga” were on every tongue across the globe, he realized that it wasn’t what he wanted at all.

He loved music and success but he hated always being in the limelight without a shred of privacy and under the constant creative censorship of millions of people. So when it once again became time to resign their contracts, Yoongi took a step back even though the others begged him to stay.

Yoongi remembers that day vividly. The look of shock and betrayal as Yoongi said that he wished he’d never even joined BTS, never even pursued the path to idoldom. It was all lies but he’d been feeling so overwhelmed that he just wanted everything to stop for once. Stop the cameras and stop the screaming fans each time he stepped foot out into public.

And so seven became six . . .

But it didn’t last long. Less than six months later the three youngest members decided to leave for military service together and they just never came back. Their sudden departure caused a media uproar and several lawsuits, but the boys had made more than enough money to sweep them under the rug. And then there were three. That didn’t last much longer at all.

Within a year of Min Yoongi leaving BTS, the entire group disbanded.

Yoongi sighs, reaching for his cup and tearing his eyes from the window. He doesn’t deserve such joy, not after he destroyed the only real familial bond he’d ever had. He hasn’t talked to the other members (Ex-members, he reminds himself) since he walked out on him.

Usually, Yoongi is able to create beats with very little inspiration, but lately, that same tiredness from before has sprung up inside of him, leaving him with nothing but pure garbage and terrible posture.

He desperately needs a new muse, but at this rate, he doesn’t think he’ll ever find one.

Pitying himself, Yoongi drags his feet all the way into his office, once more shutting the world out.

Within two months of living in her new apartment, YN can confidently say that her life has never been better. She’s never been so stress-free and relaxed. All this free time has her diving into new hobbies every chance she gets. While most of them don’t stick for more than a few days (Is it really a surprise that sewing isn’t her thing?) she has fallen head over heels in love with baking.

For most of her teenage and early adult years, YN lived purely off of takeout food, never once lifting an arm to cook something for herself or bake a treat. Really, it wasn’t her fault. She was always in and out of meetings, drafting new business ideas, and making trips. She just didn’t have the time! And while she is absolutely awful at most of her new hobbies, YN’d taken to baking like a fish to water.

She enjoyed it so much that she’d quickly overbaked for herself, somehow coming to be surrounded by dozens of cupcakes, muffins, pies, and every other sweet thing imaginable. So, freshly made treats in hand, YN began to introduce herself to her neighbors.

While she is phenomenal at meeting people in a business setting, going over to her incredibly rich and sophisticated neighbors’ homes had been a bit anxiety-inducing. YN has never been great at making friends, but she was pleasantly surprised how kind the other people of the hills have been. Multi millionaires tend to be portrayed as stuck up, but YN now has a few friends she meets up with for weekly coffee gossip sessions. While she doesn’t really have much to add to their conversations, it’s nice just to be included. 

At this point she’s met pretty much everyone on her floor, everyone except . . .

YN has never seen her next door neighbor leave their apartment. Whoever they are, they never make so much as a peep. It’s almost as if the apartment is completely empty. YN even asked her new friends about it, but they claim that someone has lived there for over three years now.

That once buried anxiety flares up once more as YN finds herself standing in front of his door, apartment number 613. She lifts her hand up to knock politely, hip supporting a large basket of muffins. She hadn’t made this many for her other neighbors, but something about the mystery of this one had her tossing in a few extra for good measure.

No one answers.

YN tries one more time and again there is not a single sound.

Just as she’s about to turn around with her hypothetical tail tucked between her legs the door creaks open ever so slightly. She can’t even see who is behind the door.

“Oh! Hello!” YN says, a little shocked, “I”m YN. I moved in next door about two months ago.”

Silence.

“I . . . um . . . I made muffins,” YN says, thrusting the basket towards the door.

Once again, the person doesn’t say anything. Unsure if she’s creeped out, embarrassed, or some awful combination of both, YN begins her retreat.

“Ah, well, I’ll just leave these here!” She manages to say, setting the basket down and hastily making it back to her own apartment, nearly slamming the door shut behind her.

What was that? What had just happened?

Just a few yards away, Yoongi stands in his own home, looking at the muffins his neighbor left outside his door. He never opens his door all the way, fearful that some old sasaeng would have found him out. But when he saw that it was her - the woman he’s been watching at the park almost every day, he didn’t know what to do.

For the first time in years, Yoongi felt a jolt of something running through his veins. She always looks so happy and full of life that Yoongi can’t help but feel intrigued by her. Hesitantly, Yoongi peeks out and plucks the basket up, bringing it inside.

His kitchen is bare of anything but empty wrappers, so the basket of freshly baked goods looks incredibly out of place.

Yoongi’s stomach growls, so he picks up one of the muffins, pleasantly surprised to find that it’s still warm. Before he knows it, he’s eaten six muffins, all of them delicious. When he retreats to his studio once more, a soft, sweet melody is in his brain.

He composes a song for the first time in months.

The next day, as YN prepares to go on her daily walk with her puppy Sugar, a small piece of paper slips under her door. Sugar is eager to check it out, sniffing it with abandon. YN, laughing at Sugar’s adorable antics, struggles to get the paper away from him without ruining it.

YN,

I apologize for my odd behavior. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and thus acted rudely. The muffins you made were delicious and made me feel leaps and bounds better. If you feel up to it, would you like to go to dinner with me? I’d love to make it up to you.

Thanks again,

MYG

MYG? Is that her neighbor’s name? YN recalls her friends saying that the person next door is a near complete recluse. Dinner? Should she go?

YN clicks Sugar’s leash to his collar, throwing a look over her shoulder as she leaves her apartment to head to the park, unaware of the man peeping through his door.

Sure. Do you have any restaurant recommendations? There are still plenty of places I haven’t gone to. Here’s my number XXXXXXXXX

YN

Yoongi is more than shocked by the letter under his door when he emerges from his studio after cleaning up his latest song. That adrenaline rush he’d gotten from YN’s treats has worn off somewhat and inspiration has fallen quickly. He finished the first song in a breeze, but he began to struggle again with the second.

SO why not get to know her better? Best case scenario, YN provides more inspiration. Worst case, she’s a psychopath.

He doesn’t think the second one is very likely, but he’s still hesitant, choosing to go to a restaurant he’d been a regular in for quite some time. Yoongi books out a room in the back and texts YN the details, setting their meeting for the weekend.

When the day finally rolls around, Yoongi is more nervous than he has been in a long time. What if she recognizes him? Or worse, what is she stands him up altogether?

His fears are squashed when he sees her standing on the sidewalk, dressed too simply for the restaurant he booked.

“Hello,” Yoongi says, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide how nervous he is, “You’re YN right? I’m Min Yoongi, your neighbor.”

“Oh!” she says, brightening up and sticking her hand out to greet him, “It’s nice to meet you!”

He takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently and pretending not to notice the shivers that shoot through him.

“This is the place right?” she asks, taking her hand back and brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Actually,” Yoongi says, noticing the odd looks YN is getting based on her everyday outfit, “I was just going to pick food up here and then head to the park, if that’s okay. It has a really clear view this time of night.”

“That sounds great!” YN says.

Yoongi, slightly frantic with his new lie, heads up to the reservation counter and asks to speak to the manager, a close friend of his. A couple of hushed whispers later, Yoongi is given a bag of freshly cooked food, the producer not feeling even the slightest bit bad about taking someone else’s order.

“So . . . how have you been enjoying the Hills?” Yoongi asks as they stroll side by side to the park she always frequents.

They’re standing too far apart to be more than anything but acquaintances. Yoongi finds himself wishing she was closer so their arms would brush.

“It’s been really nice!” YN says enthusiastically, “Everyone has been so kind and it’s been so amazing to finally have time for myself.”

“Finally?”

“Oh!” YN remarks, “Yeah, I had a startup that just recently got sold. I decided to take a few months off before I began another business venture. What about you?”

The curiosity in her eyes tells Yoongi that YN truly has no idea who he is. He finds himself relaxing even more.

“I’m a producer, mainly. Sometimes I write songs as well,” he says shyly, stopping next to one of the picnic tables that sporadically dot the large park.

He sets the food down and sits opposite to her, leaving plenty of space between them.

“Really? That sounds so cool! I’d love to hear something you made one day.”

Her tone is nothing but polite but dread forms in Yoongi’s stomach. He hasn’t worked on many new projects at all and he doesn't think he has anything good enough to show this incredibly bright woman.

Yoongi’s face must betray his apprehension because YN backs off right away.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to share! When I was younger one of my cousins was really into art but she never showed anyone what she made. I get it, it can be really personal.”

“No!” Yoongi says a little too loudly, “I’d love to show you something. I was just surprised you asked.”

YN smiles and everything is right again. The rest of the night passes much too quickly for Yoongi’s tastes, but he leaves feeling more inspired than ever. For once, he actually cleans his entire apartment, preparing it for YN to come over. Bags and bags of trash are tossed away and candles are lit to rid the space of any lingering odors He takes extra care in preparing his studio, hiding all the evidence of months of frustration in drawers and sitting down with a melody stuck in his brain.

She visits a week later. YN is more than surprised how clean Yoongi’s apartment is. She has learned quite a lot about him through all the texts they’ve exchanged and he never rubbed her as a clean freak. Methodical? Sure. Not the best at expressing emotions? Definitely. But the cleanest person she’s ever met? That’s a new one.

Yoongi is a little dressed up when he answers the door. His smile is wide and almost childlike, adorable in a way that has YN smiling as well.

They make small talk over the treats she brought over (cookies this time) before Yoongi leads her to a large room in the back of the house.

It’s breathtaking. Expensive devices line every open surface of the studio, all gleaming under the overhead lights. The studio walls are lined with records even she can tell are rare, each encased in a glass frame. A large couch is pushed against one wall with a coffee table in front of it, tastefully decorated with magazines and small plants.

“This is amazing, Yoongi,” YN says, half breathless.

Yoongi can hear his own heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears at the way stars seem to have shifted into YN’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, “Would you like to hear what I’ve been working on?”

He needs to work up the courage now before he comes up with an excuse to never show YN the song he’s been working on so diligently day in and day out.

“Of course!”

Yoongi had pulled an extra chair in front of his computer in advance and she takes a seat, waiting eagerly for Yoongi to pull up his masterpiece. His fingers shake ever so slightly as he pulls it up and presses play.

He doesn’t think he takes a breath during the entire three and a half minute long song. How could he? It’s not every day you show the love song to the woman you’ve been watching for almost two months.

“Yoongi,” YN says when it finishes.

He feels his heart clench.

“That was beautiful! Who’s it about?”

“Who?”

“It’s a love song right? Are you in love with someone?”

Her question is innocent but it sends Yoongi into a panic.

“Yeah, actually,” he says, looking at anyone but her, “You.”

For a moment everything is silent. Neither of them breathe. 

“Oh,” YN says.

Yoongi never knew two letters could crush him.

“I’m flattered but . . . I don’t really see you as anything more than a friend . . .”

YN trails off, not exactly sure what to say. She’s never been the romantic type. She always figured she’d fall in love when it was time but that time certainly isn’t now. She’s just barely figuring out who she is herself. She doesn’t have space in her heart for anyone else.

“Ah . . . I wasn’t expecting you to . . . um . . .”

Yoongi stutters out words at random trying desperately hard to not make things any worse than they already are.

“Maybe I should go . . .” YN says.

She doesn’t wait for his answer, simply standing up and leaving, casting one more glance at the hunched over man behind her. Her red heels click against the floor, fading when she leaves the home.

For the next two weeks, Yoongi texts her constantly. YN can barely go ten minutes without her phone buzzing with an apology or an offer for lunch. If she felt bad about rejecting him at first, YN is glad she did now. He’s behaving obsessively and it’s beginning to creep her out. Finally, she’s had it altogether, sending him a curt message demanding he never talks to her ever again and blocking his number straight away.

For a time, everything seems okay. Min Yoongi leaves her life just as swiftly as he had entered it. She’s almost forgotten about it altogether, until she’s stuck in traffic one evening. YN is listening to the radio, head bopping mindlessly along to the beat of a song she doesn’t know. But then the chorus starts and the hair on her arm stands on end.

Really, is it strange to fall in love? Really, is it odd that I want more? You flew in just like a turtle dove, pure and sweet, I only wanted your love. Maybe I should have locked you away? Maybe I should have clipped your wings? Then at least I know you’d stay? Stay, forever here with me.

Normally, YN wouldn’t have paid it any attention, but something about the song is so eerie that she begins to get creeped out.

Another male voice joins the singer.

Sweet like cinnamon, bright as the sun, soft, so soft, I needed you to melt into me. Salvation came in a wicker basket and left in bright red heels. Maybe I should have had something better to say, maybe then, you wouldn’t have rushed away.

Ignorance is bliss, but baby you’re all I think about. I couldn’t ignore you if I tried, if I wanted to. Ignorance is bliss, baby, but euphoria lives next door.

The song fades and the host’s voice floats out afterward.

“That song was ‘Red Heels and Cinnamon’ by Dave Kim and Min Yoongi. This song has been the most popular song on the charts for weeks! The famed producer and songwriter hasn’t given the press much background on the story, simply commenting that it’s something close to his heart and that more songs with this new vibe will be releasing soon.”

Release they did. Hit song after Hit song comes out, each creepier than the one before. If YN was able to convince herself that the songs weren’t about her, they became impossible to ignore. Yoongi next released a song about a woman with aspirations and no room for love, followed by one about a man following the woman he loved to make sure she was okay. That song detailed the entire events of her day.

And finally, Yoongi released a song giving out YN’s phone number.

Having had more than enough of this nonsense, YN knocks on Yoongi’s door, leaving her blaring phone behind.

He cracks the door open again before swinging it wide, looking much too pleased to see her.

“YN? I thought you never wanted to see me again. What are you doing here?”

“I know what you’re doing. Cut it out,” she hisses at him.

“Cut what out?”

“All of the songs! And the stalking! I know you’re following me!”

YN clenches her sweater closer to her body, trying to comfort herself. Yoongi looks down at it.

“You should have gotten the red one. It suits you better.”

Chill crawls down YN’s back and her limbs go stiff.

“What do you want from me,” she whispers, unable to look him in the eye.

“I feel something different when I’m around you. I feel alive - more motivated than I’ve ever been. All I want is for you to feel that same way.”

“And if I don’t?” YN asks, daring to look at him.

He’s silent for a moment. Yoongi’s expression darkens.

“That new firm that hired you as a consultant? The CEO’s daughter is a long time fan of mine. He’d do anything to keep her happy. Even replacing you . . .”

“But I can -” YN objects.

“Get a new job? Oh, sure. But I don’t think anyone would want to hire you if they knew what you did on May sixteenth.”

YN’s blood turns to ice. There are only a few things YN isn’t proud of and getting kicked out of a bar and then arrested after starting a fight is on the very top of that list. Thankfully, she had some connections to get her out of any charges and had swept the entire thing under the rug. But if it gets out . . .

“It’s up to you. Why don’t you come inside and see what I’m working on?”

Yoongi leaves the door wide open and retreats inside.

Hesitantly, YN follows after him.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Avatar Zuko Rewrite

Pairings: Zukka (pre-romantic, unrequited)

Word Count: 1687 Words

Summary: Lee somehow manages to win Sokka's heart without even trying aka he feeds him. Sokka doesn't even know how to process how cute Lee is.

Warnings: Injury Mention, Food Mention, Half Blind Character, let me know if I should tag something else.

Chapter 7

When they finally consoled Aang, they led him back to where Lee was in the Avatar Chamber still. It seemed they’d all left him there to continue with his intrigued study of the statues.

Finding him collapsed in front of the Roku statue was definitely not something they’d anticipated. It looked like some debris had flown here too from Aang’s emotional breakdown. None of it looked to have hit Lee but they all guessed it had somehow hit him in the head and made him collapse with a concussion.

“Hey, Lee. Lee, wake up.” Sokka shook the raven’s shoulder.

He gave a groan, waking up and he held his left hip, apparently that had hit the ground first and taken the most of the brunt of the fall. Lee pushed himself to sit up, other hand holding his head, eyes shut still and refusing to look at them. Finally, his gold eyes opened and he gazed up at them.

“What happened? I’m so sorry if I hurt you, Lee!” Aang hugged him.

“No, it wasn’t you. The spiritual pressure is just really strong in here.” He rubbed his left scalp with soreness from the fall, but thankfully, he didn’t seem too injured.

“Well you are right. It does feel like the pressure is stronger here. Maybe it’s the statues.” Aang told him, helping him up on his left side while Sokka helped his right. Sokka felt protective of the airbender, he was obviously weak and a bit hurt, he needed someone to look after him.

He helped him from the chamber, all four leaving it to let Lee recover. The airbender seemed to be getting better, all but his hip, however. But that just seemed sore too, and was obviously better the more he moved it and used it and wasn’t overstressing the muscle he’d hurt. Aang and Katara played air ball this time, Lee and Sokka sitting on the grass, watching.

“Do you think they’d mind if I looked around?” Lee asked.

“Why?” He asked the airbender.

“Food. You’ve been complaining nonstop, I figure shut your mouth with some food.” Lee told him, smiling broadly but also nervously. He was getting comfortable around people but he wasn't sure how to act.

“Nah, they wouldn’t mind. Just don’t get lost. Come back here after or I'm sure Aang might freak out that I lost you.” The raven nodded and set off the path on the left, slowly retraining the sore but thankfully healthy muscle in his left hip. An hour later, Lee came back with several things in his arms. He threw something round at him and he immediately caught it out of instinct.

“Found the kitchens and the gardens. That’s a pomelo by the way. They grew firebender fruit here. Who would have thought Air Nomads could simulate different climates?” He was smiling.

“What the hell’s a pomelo?” Sokka asked, peeling it curiously.

“A fruit. It’s like an orange but better. Don’t complain. I could have made you eat the durian fruit.” He showed him a large yellow fruit as Sokka took a curious bite of the fruit in his hands.

“Hey, I’m not a quitter. Let me try the other one.”

“Don’t complain to me then, water-boy.” He tossed the yellowy fruit at him. Sokka caught it easily. He used his dagger to cut open the durian fruit to come face to face with the yellow flesh.

“What? Scared?” Lee smirked, eyes smiling and Sokka, to all that knew him, was absolutely not one to back down from a challenge.

If anything, a cute boy staring him down to eat a fruit that intimidated him, yeah that was a challenge. He cut the piece sunk his teeth into the yellow flesh and was met with a bitter, sour taste in his mouth and immediately spit it out, spitting saliva in hopes the taste would go away. Lee took one of the unbitten pieces and bit into it easily.

“I told you. Water Tribe Boys can’t eat durian.” Lee teased.

“Well, Fire Nation Boys can’t eat sudachi.”

“I’m Air Nomad. But just the same. I don’t like Water Tribe food.” Lee finished his demon fruit.

“Smartass.” Sokka mumbled.

“Takes one to know one.” Lee sat back on the grass watching the game going back and forth until Katara and Aang finally both tied in a stalemate.

“Lee found the kitchens and gardens while you two were on your supervised date.” Sokka told them.

“Where are they?” Katara asked, blatantly mad. And then Lee did the unexpected again. He pushed upward with his hands and landed on his feet with only mild difficulty from his hip.

For a second, Sokka was sure that he was becoming a true demon like the fruit Lee had eaten with the way he’d been moving until he realized he was just a showoff. Katara rolled her eyes at the display and Aang snorted laughter at Sokka’s terrified yet shocked expression.

Lee made a small chuckle at his shocked expression too, already him and Aang leading each other to the kitchens and gardens, leaving Katara and Sokka to run to catch up again.

“Oh Gods, the kitchens smell heavenly.” Sokka drooled.

“I figured we’d all be tired and hungry after all that’s happened today. I started dinner before I left. It should be done in a few minutes.”

“Cooking’s a girl thing! You can’t cook!” Sokka protested.

“Eat dinner or go try to make something yourself. The gardens are out the door, to the left, down a bit.” Lee walked away from him into the kitchens from where they were in the mess hall.

Sokka was impressed with how easy he seemed to act naturally around him and the others, like the three years on a Fire Navy ship had never changed his personality to the meek and scared boy he’d seen him the day prior. Though, it occurred to him that Lee could just be scared of his bending being destructive.

“He needs to get a handle on that talk of his!” Katara raged.

“He’s fine. I think he’s just getting comfortable around us.” Sokka told her as much. She growled at him to be quiet.

“I made extra.” And the two big bowls of first pasta then a black and lumpy mix got set on the table. Sokka poked it with his spoon.

“What is that?” He asked.

“Zhajiangmian. Fire nation food. Thankfully the not hot kind. Made vegetarian for our airbender.”

“Waterbenders need meat, Lee.” Sokka complained. Lee raised an eyebrow. He bit his tongue, Spirits dammit, why was that cute!? “But it smells good. I’m eating.” He put some of the noodles into his bowl. He looked at the dark saucey substance oddly as to what he should do with it.

“You put the zhajiang overtop of the noodles and mix them.” Lee spooned the mix over his own noodles, mixing it together with his chopsticks. Sokka mimicked what he’d done and brought a the chopsticks to his mouth, tasting the food.

“That’s pretty good actually.” His mouth was full but he felt the need to say it, wanted to see Lee's reaction. Lee laughed at his face that was obviously covered with the sauce. His heart melted a little bit, Lee laughing made his heart skip. Lee sounded happy.

“Wipe your face. You look like a rabid wolfbat.” He laughed, having to stop eating for a minute. Sokka wiped his mouth clean and continued eating, teeth crunching into what he assumed were vegetables.

“Ya know, that’s a good way to get Sokka to eat vegetables, Lee.” Aang told the other airbender.

“It’s better than him wandering off and maybe getting hurt trying to fend for himself.” Sokka was busy spooning the vegetables from his bowl to his mouth, too satisfied with the food to care much about the conversation.

“Katara, why aren’t you eating?” Aang asked. Indeed, Katara hadn't so much as touched her bowl, let alone fill it and eat anything.

“I won’t eat Fire Nation food.” She told them bluntly, eyes shooting daggers at Lee.

“Technically, this is the Earth Kingdom recipe. It’s not spicy like the Fire Nation makes it and there’s no meat added in.” Aang told her. Lee had folded in on himself when she’d made the comment, he was busy quietly eating, refusing to look up from his bowl. He wasn't going to defend himself, he probably felt he deserved it.

“'Tara, you’ve gotta try this. It’s so good.” Sokka urged her.

“I’m not hungry!” She snapped. Lee flinched at the tone but continued eating, seemingly unwilling to look up at her. Sokka could spot his eyes getting glossy with tears that the airbender was obviously forcing down.

“Katara, you’re being too hard on Lee. He’s not even Fire Nation, he’s an Air Nomad. Don’t you think he’s probably struggling through this war too? This war’s been hard on everyone.” Sokka told her. Lee was staring at him, wide eyed and looking a bit scared on his part.

Was he scared of something happening simply because he was defending him from his sister? Maybe it was justified, his sister was scary and it seemed a feasible fear from what he'd heard Lee say about his father. Being around that abuse so long, he probably learned not to defend himself for fear it would lead to him being beaten.

“Fine, I’ll eat. But you better not be pulling anything, Lee.” Katara told him, finally spooning noodles and zhajiang into her bowl and eating.

“Good, Katara?” Aang asked.

She simply grumbled what sounded like a 'yes’ past her food. Sokka smiled at Lee as the raven continued eating, eyes a bit awestruck toward him. It wasn’t a problem convincing his sister to eat, he would have had to make her eat eventually.

Aang went back for a second bowl, commenting that it was just like Xiu-Mei made it. Sokka had ended up having two and a half bowls while Lee only finished one and Katara finished two. Plus Sokka got to sit next to a cute boy he very much wanted to kiss.

Taglist: @darkrainbow333 @magic-but-its-green @the-lemonade-artist @a-chaotic-being @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @lgbtforeverything @brain-deadx0 @everythingisstardust @emoqueerpan @thatoneperson1967

[abused-sides]

Virgil Comes Home [Roommates AU]

Trigger warning: This au follows most of the sides in the aftermath of surviving abuse (domestic, parental, etc). In this particular fic it’s not stated explicitly, but it’s an instrumental part of the story and if that bothers you, then please not only scroll past this fic, but block my blog as well. 

More tws: All sides are sympathetic, mentions of living in homeless shelters, poverty, a lot of flinching (though no actual danger), food, descriptions of severe eczema, please let me know if i missed anything. If there are any other preventative measures I can take to keep people safe, also please let me know. 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Endgame romantic intruloceit, romantic prinxiety, queerplatonic royality 

Words: 1729 

Virgil’s hands trembled as the elevator climbed. 

He was still in a sort-of trance, ready to wake up back home with his boyfriend on his way and waiting for dinner. He wasn’t convinced he was moving into his new apartment today, wasn’t convinced he was starting a new life. 

He flinched, the elevator ding sharp. He adjusted his backpack and ducked his head as he tiptoed down the hallway. He reached the door, but before he could knock, the door behind him swung open. 

“So you’re the new one!”

Virgil whipped around and puffed his chest out, squaring his shoulders. 

“Remus,” a bored voice said, “leave him alone.”

Remus stared with a manic, unblinking grin. His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair fell in oily, tangled curls down his face. Dread settled deep in Virgil’s stomach. 

“Remus.” Another boy appeared at the door, a delicate, scab covered hand wrapping around Remus’s shoulder. The new boy’s face was red and blotchy, covered in angry scabs and dead skin. A glare twisted his face. “You’re going to be late for work. Want me to finish, or not?” 

Remus’s face melted into a pout. “You’re the one that insists I put it up in the first place!”

“That’s because you look like you never made it off the streets.” The boy flicked one of Remus’s curls, his mouth quirking into a barely-noticeable smile. 

The door behind Virgil swung open, and he leapt back so his eyeline could catch both threats. 

“Are you two seriously trying to scare him off?” A boy who looked strikingly similar to Remus, only more… Put together, glared at the neighbours. 

“Don’t lump me in with him,” the boy said flatly. 

Remus giggled and kissed the boy’s cheek. “You’re stuck with me, Jan-Jan!” 

“I’m sorry about them,” his new roommate huffed. “I’m Roman. Come on inside, I’ll help you get the rest of your stuff.” 

Virgil’s heart pounded. He couldn’t get himself out of fight mode, even as Jan pulled Remus back into their own apartment and slammed the door. “This- This is it,” he managed. “This is all of it.”

Roman poorly masked his surprise. “Oh! Okay, well, travelling light has its pros, too, I’m sure.” 

He gestured Virgil inside. The apartment was exactly how he remembered it; warm, a little cluttered, covered in frames of photos of the three of them, beautiful homemade artwork, to-do lists, and schedules. Patton, the one who interviewed Virgil, stood in the kitchenette over a sizzling pan of bacon. 

“Virgil!” He cried happily and bounded over. 

Virgil stiffened as Patton pulled him into a tight hug. He marginally relaxed when Patton pulled away. “You’re just in time, breakfast is ready!”

Shrieking sounded through the apartment— Everyone flinched, and Virgil covered his head as the smoke detector wailed. A boy in glasses came out of one of the closed doors, disabled the smoke detector without stopping, and headed for the front door. 

“Thanks, Logan!” Patton straightened up and grinned. “Breakfast is ready!”

“I’m okay, I’ll grab something on the way.” He stopped in front of Virgil. His face was guarded, unreadable. He stuck his hand out. “My name is Logan. Virgil, I presume?” Virgil managed a nod. “Welcome. I won’t be back until tonight, but Patton works from home, so he should be able to help you settle in.” 

“Mister, your schedule is self-imposed,” Patton said with a scowl. “You’re eating breakfast! I know you won’t actually grab something on the way. Do you think I’m stupid?”

The smallest of flinches tensed Logan’s shoulders. “Of course not.” 

Patton scraped the burnt bacon into the trash. “Ro, set the table for me, love? Logan, show Verge to his room and get cleaned up for breakfast.”

Logan pursed his lips and nodded. “Come with me.”

Virgil followed Logan into his room. It was bare, walls empty and carpet vacuumed. There was a mattress and a desk with no chair. 

“We wanted to get you started with more, coming from the shelter and all that, but we’ve been short on rent the last couple months so we could only spare so much.”

Virgil was shaking his head before Logan finished talking. “It’s everything I need. Thank- Thank you.”

Logan glanced at him from the side of his eyes. “No trouble at all, Virgil.” 

Logan left. Virgil shrugged his backpack off and set it on the mattress. It was covered in what was clearly spare blankets, and a dirty pillow without a case. It was both so much less and so much more than what he left behind. It was his. 

From his backpack, he pulled out two t-shirts, a pair of jeans, a sleep shirt, a teddy bear, a stress ball, and a bag of cash. This was all he owned. It was all he needed. 

“Virgil! Breakfast is getting cold!”

He shook off the panic crawling up his spine with the realization that he did nothing to help. He just got here— How was he meant to help? 

He steeled himself, forced up a scowl, and headed into the kitchen. He fought not to melt at the amazing smell coming from the stack of pancakes, warm bacon, and hot coffee from the table. 

“Coffee, Virgil?” Roman asked as he poured Logan some. 

“Uh, sure.” He refused to admit he’d never had any before. “Thank you.” 

“Milk and sugar’s by the bacon!” Patton handed out napkins and took his head. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. He wrapped his stiff fingers around the hot ceramic and pulled it close to his face. It smelled like hazelnut and vanilla. 

Don’t cry. 

Don’t let them see you cry. 

“So, Virgil,” Roman said after downing half of his coffee, “Patton’s been talking about you nonstop, but we still don’t know anything about you.”

Virgil hummed noncommittedly, not sure how to answer. All the eyes on him made him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“Don’t be invasive,” Logan mumbled. He cut his pancakes into perfect squares, piling up the round edges on his fork and dropping them onto Patton’s plate. Patton immediately soaked them in syrup. “He doesn’t have to talk about anything he doesn’t want to.” 

Roman pouted. “I know that! But, well, he can at least tell us what job he plans on getting.” He peeked at Virgil nervously. “Right?” 

Virgil’s heart was in his throat. Was he supposed to know that already? What jobs were even available in the city? 

“Roman.” Patton gave him a look. 

Roman huffed and continued eating. “Well, if you’re stuck, the theatre is always hiring for the crew. We can’t get anyone to stick around that long.” His eyes widened. “Not that it’s a bad job! We just don’t really have enough money to pay more than minimum wage, and there’re limited hours. You can volunteer more time if you want, but we wouldn’t be able to pay for it.” 

Patton dumped approximately half a cup of sugar into his mug and stirred it with a child’s spoon, a frog at the end of the handle. “How about this: Virgil, would you want to walk around the city with me later? I have a few orders to finish up and then I gotta drop them off, so I’ll be walking around for a few hours. We’re sure to pass tons of help wanted signs, and we’ll see if anything pops out at you. If nothing does, maybe you’d want to go to the theatre with Roman tomorrow and see if you like it better there.” 

Virgil nodded slowly. “Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

They finished eating, Virgil silent while the others engaged freely. Roman was louder than Virgil appreciated, constantly making Virgil flinch or go into defence mode. Logan occasionally noticed and gave him a small nod, or an eye roll in Roman’s direction, and it almost made Virgil feel better. 

Logan hurried out the first chance he got, claiming that he was behind on schedule and he really needed to get to the library. Roman was out shortly after, declaring something about the play they’re doing that Virgil couldn’t understand as much as he tried. 

On autopilot, Virgil picked up all the dishes and balanced it all in his arms. Patton looked at him in surprise as he carried them to the sink. 

“Wow, that’s- That’s impressive!” He laughed. “But you don’t have to do that!” 

Virgil’s face heated up as his actions caught up with him. He scrambled for the upper hand, “Yeah, I drop in short on rent, don’t help cook, eat my share, and I don’t have a job to get to, but sure, I’ll go fuck off and you can do them.” 

Patton’s giggling surprised him. “Well, I won’t complain! Thanks, Verge! I’ll just get started on my orders.” 

He pulled out the flour, sugar, and other baking supplies while Virgil washed the dishes. When he finished drying and putting them away, he went to leave, when Patton stopped him. 

“Oh, Verge!” Patton smiled sheepishly, his fingers covered in sticky cookie dough. “Could you grab the chocolate chips for me before you go?” 

“Uh- Sure.” Virgil found the bag with Patton’s direction and poured them into the bowl until Patton said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Patton looked at him in surprise. “Well, if you really don’t mind, I’m going to have to use the bowl and other stuff again right after I get the cookies in the oven. Would you mind washing those, too?”

He didn’t have anything better to do, and he wasn’t even paying the full rent. “Sure.” 

He got those washed up, too, and once again asked if Patton needed anything else. He ended up helping Patton through the rest of his orders, getting powdered sugar and flour and cinnamon all over his clothes and hair. He knew more about baking than Patton had expected— Much to Patton’s delight. 

“Okay,” Patton said once all the treats were packaged up in pastel boxes, “I’m going to go clean up, and then I’ll be ready.” He threw his arms around Virgil, who flinched, but found his arms wrapping back around him. Patton squeezed him and buried his face in Virgil’s sweaty neck. “Welcome home, Virgil.” 

And then he’d skipped back into his room, door shutting behind him. And Virgil was left alone with the butterflies in his stomach. 

[captainficspace]

No Boys Allowed- Vanya’s Day

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Vanya Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves (sort of) 

A/N: I had the best time doing TUA fic week and definitely want to keep writing for this fandom. Thank you all so much for reading. Enjoy today’s entry :)

“Can you braid? Neither of us know how.”  Allison knew that Ben knew, but he must have been playing dumb the entire time if anyone had asked him for help. When Klaus had knocked on her door, Vanya by his side, she knew they were seeking her out for a reason. She took it as a welcome distraction.

“We were saying how nice he would look with his hair French-braided.” Vanya added, “But neither of us can follow a tutorial for anything.” Something stirred inside Allison, excitement maybe? There had been so many awful, confusing things going on lately that she hadn’t even begun to process. But this was one of those few times she could actually help, no matter how small the request was.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

They didn’t have what had now been lovingly referred to as “girl’s night” very often at all as kids. But sometimes, a rare sometimes, Allison would desperately need a sister’s company at the same time Klaus would desperately need a break from the nonstop aggression of brothers at the same time Vanya was lonely enough to risk actually seeking out someone to be with. “Girl’s” night was of course loosely-defined since Klaus was involved, but any other brothers barging in to play superheroes or throw knives at the boy band posters on the wall were firmly redirected to the hand-written No Boys Allowed sign taped to the door for such occasions.

It would feel like the times they all snuck into each other’s room after bedtime to play cards or tell stories, but somehow even more vital in their purpose and function. Girl’s nights were few and far between, sometimes less cheery and loud than the group hangs, but the sisters and honorary “girl” needed their time.  

 This was the first one they all had as adults, already feeling somehow younger and hopelessly old as they gathered on the floor of Allison’s room.

“So who’s going first?” She flitted around the room, gathering what she thought they would need. Most of her things were exactly as she left them, the brush and mirror and extremely 2000s barrettes and butterfly clips. She grabbed a makeup bag and a pack of stick-on nails just in case the night started picking up.

Klaus volunteered, “I need a modern makeover.”

“As modern as we can get with these beaded hair ties.” Allison ran her hands through his shoulder-length waves, smiling as he leaned into her touch. She couldn’t resist scratching behind his ear like a cat to make him giggle and squirm, but still close enough to brush out the tangles and start braiding. Vanya made herself comfortable, coming over to Klaus to lay her head in his lap.

“Remember the time we dragged Luther in here and painted his nails?” He asked.

“Thanks to that hole Diego put in the wall, I never forgot it.” Allison said.  Klaus threw his head back and laughed at the memory.

“Wait, what?” Vanya looked up at her siblings, puzzled. Oh, right.  Sometimes they forgot how many memories they had where Vanya just wasn’t around.

 “He was being an ass so we dragged him in here kicking and screaming and gave him pink nails.” Allison said, thinking of the one time they broke the No Boys Allowed rule.

“Me and Ben and Diego had to sit on him.” Klaus added.

“Then why did he-“

“Luther tickled him to make him get off and he’s a kicker.”

“Where’s the hole?” Klaus started laughing again, pointing at a suspiciously low poster hanging on the wall, tacked hardly an inch above the baseboard.

“We didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“Somehow no one caught on.”

“It was my brilliant idea.” Vanya just shook her head, laughing to herself as the two recounted the event. It was the gateway to even more stories of things she had missed, and while Allison finished Klaus’ hair and applied Vanya’s press-on nails, the “girls’ caught her up on things. They explained everything from inside jokes (A fictional 8th sibling named Hubert that lived under Ben’s bed and was responsible for everything in the house that went wrong), the reason there was a fork stuck in the ceiling beam in the living room (Diego still refused to completely say why), and how one time they managed to cover everything in Five’s room with post-it notes. The experience was bittersweet, especially since they all knew why Vanya wasn’t around for things, but it felt good to talk. It felt good for everyone to be distracted by braids and nails and stories.

Klaus ended up looking stunning in a French braid, pulling the hair back from his face and showing off his features. Allison even left a few strands to hang loose and curled them. He would not stop looking in the mirror, taking up the space by the vanity as Allison had moved onto highlighting Vanya’s cheekbones and adding glitter wherever she thought was necessary. The process was taking forever because the big fluffy brush tickled something awful and it was an ordeal trying to get Vanya to sit still. 

   "You look like a prom queen." Allison told him, hoping that if she gave him enough attention, he would get out of her light. 

"You look like a founding father." Vanya countered. 

Klaus’ jaw dropped. Vanya was still getting use to the whole teasing thing, but this was her best attempt yet.  Allison's reaction definitely wasn't her usual pity laugh, bursting into giggles both at her comment and Klaus’ floored reaction. Maybe there was something about her time away in the 60s that gave her confidence.

   "I am stunning, thank you." He poked Vanya in the side and she squeaked.   "You need to play nice with others." Allison said, "missing" her cheekbones entirely and swiping the powder brush over her ear again. 

  "Stop!" She scrunched up her neck and wrinkled her nose, but had giggles in her voice.

  "Tell me I'm pretty!" Klaus said, giving her one last chance. Vanya sighed, turning to the side to gently take Klaus’ face in her hand, utter sincerity in her eyes. 

"I'm sure you'll do amazing at your Hamilton audition." Allison doubled over, laughing so hard she had a snort fit and needed to grab on to Vanya’s chair to keep herself upright. 

"Oh that's it!" Klaus went back to poking at his sister’s sides, but with a new intensity. Vanya’s dam burst and her giggles rang throughout the room, shaking her shoulders and turning her cheeks pink. 

  Allison had recovered and decided Klaus needed some help with his vengeance, going back and forth between using her nails and the big, fluffy brush, making her sister scrunch up her neck even more and squeak as she laughed. Klaus poked wherever he could find an opening, fighting off her hands, all the while taking notes on which spots got a good reaction. 

  "I am a goddess and I will be treated as such!" he said, attacking her ribs.  Vanya nearly fell out of her chair, eyes screwed shut as she rocked with silent laughter. 

"N-no!" She managed, mustering the strength to plan for attack. For the first time, she fought back, going right for Klaus’ hips with her new press-on nails. She had so much time just sitting on the sidelines during these sort of interactions, watching every move. It would be the easiest thing in the world to take every sibling down based on her knowledge of tickle spots.

  Klaus let out a shriek and curled on himself. It was his fault for wearing shirts that never fully covered his torso. 

  "I'll get his front if you get his back." He heard Allison say. That’s when he knew girl’s night was over and he needed to be on his way. He went to run, but the door slammed seemingly on its own. Even the knob refused to turn

.   "Screw you, Ben!" Klaus yelled out, right as his sisters had him cornered, kicking the door for good measure. He could hear the bastard laughing right on the other side of the wall. 

  "Thanks, Ben!" The sisters said in unison. Overhead, the lights flickered, as if noting the appreciation.

  They ended up in the weirdest positions as they tried to get their brother pinned, tangling themselves in knots until they finally had Klaus laying across Vanya's lap as she held his arms in place, Allison kneeling between his legs and making a big show of showing off her nails before going for the kill. She made her hands into claws and dug right onto the surface of his exposed hips, sending him into hysterics. The tickles they had all been giving and receiving so far had been gentle, but there was something about the new nails and the motivation of vengeance that was giving Vanya a merciless streak. She and Allison were a team now, and they were firmly locked on their target as they tickled him senseless, themselves giggling as Klaus went into the asthmatic hyena stage of his laughter. 

   The tables turned on Allison next, who unexpectedly yelped and curled up in a ball in the middle of tormenting Klaus, swatting at something invisible that had tickled her neck.

  "Ben, you TRAITOR!”

"He thrives off chaos" Klaus wheezed, and immediately folded over with a squeak. The ghost truly had no loyalties.

"No boys allowed, remember the sign?" Vanya added. The door dramatically swung open and slammed loudly, nearly drowning out Allison’s laughter as Klaus had used this chance to exact his revenge, slipping his hands up under her arms and making her cackle until there were tears in her eyes.  Vanya happily went with this change of plans and joined right in. After all, Allison had been way too ruthless with that brush earlier. 

   She never would have guessed that Vanya and Klaus together would be such a lethal team, but they absolutely were due to years of observation and combined creative efforts.

   "You need to hold STILL.” Vanya said, some time later. She couldn’t resist grabbing the powder brush from the vanity and running it over her neck to see how she liked it.   "Shuhuhut UP!" 

  And it was back to Vanya again. She could have sworn she felt another set of hands jabbing away, but she couldn't think straight from laughing. The hands she could see and feel on her were bad enough to give her the hiccups and a sore stomach. She couldn’t remember laughing like this. Maybe she never had before. 

   Allison's work ended up going to waste, makeup being smudged and hair becoming more and more disheveled as they wrestled and played and laughed. Mostly they laughed. It reminded Vanya of the rare occasions when the entire sibling squad would camp out in each other's rooms when they were supposed to be in bed and would be giddy from the mischief of sneaking out and being overtired. She may not be on the same level of comfort and familiarity like this with the others, but her "sisters" were the safe place to start. 

     They sank against each other at last in a heap, breathless and glowing with happiness. Occasionally, there would be bursts of giggles or random pokes and squawks of indignation, but mostly they were tired out and content to lean against each other, Vanya nestled between the “girls.” Glitter was everywhere thanks to the powder brush that had found its way over Vanya’s ears and Allison’s neck and Klaus’ ribs. She collected a few specks of the fine, sparkly dust on her fingertip and pressed them to Klaus’ cheek, giggling when he stuck out his tongue at her.

“The guys are seriously missing out. I forgot how great this was.” Vanya felt so relaxed she thought she could almost fall asleep there and then, warm and happy with Allison absentmindedly playing with her hair.

“Do you think Diego would really let us even touch his hair, though?” Klaus began to think of how many barrettes he could sneak before Diego noticed while his back was turned. The idea was tempting.

“It’s like you almost want him to put his foot through the wall again.” Allison gestured to the poster with one hand and skittered across his side with the other, grinning at the sound of his laugh.

“You’re right. Maybe we should keep it our thing.”

“Same time next week?” Vanya suggested.

She hoped in all honestly it would be even sooner than that.