#but yeah. it's pretty nice to do something with my hands. not relaxing per se but. feels real feels grounded.

[vonlipvig]

i've been depressed as hell, so i'm joining a cult

[puppyluvfics]

NSFW Alphabet | Gaon/Kwak Jiseok

Gaon/Kwak Jiseok | WC: 1.8k Genre: smut Summary: nsfw alphabet game thing Warnings: this is just. PURE filth. I'm sorry. (No im not). NOT proofread, just straight up rambles. BRIEF mentions of degrading... I think that's it.. lemme know if I missed something! A/N: X is excluded bc i will Not be writing about him in that kind of detail <3 Thank u anonie for requesting this one toooo <3 The rest will come soon, I promise! Also... funny how my tumblr is Mostly jiseok content when i'm joo/seumi biased... LOL i'm having a lot of fun tho so it's all good <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sweet hyper boy finally relaxes. He’d absolutely collapse next to you and breathe heavily, little chuckles leaving his lips while he pushed his hair away from his face. He is SO the type to reach out for you and just pat whatever he touches first, as long as it’s you - be it your still-shaking thigh, your stomach, hell, even your face, just so he could give you praise while you both caught your breath. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I don’t know if I’d call it his favourite per se, but he loves using his lips for sure. Dragging them up and down your body slowly, teasingly, leaving small kisses and hickeys on your body - some where other people could see like your collarbone and others where only he could see, like your inner thighs… and don’t even get me started on the fact he would love seeing your wetness coating his lips after he ate you out…

On his partner… legs in general. Being able to grip your thighs whenever he wanted, rub his hands up and down your legs, knowing he could push them open whenever he wanted… yeah

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

In your mouth 99% of the time. The other 1% would be if he was feeling a little more needy and wanted to come on your face, but most of the time, he loves holding your head down on him, feeling himself twitch in your mouth before letting go with a shaky groan. He doesn’t have a preference on if you spit or swallow, at the end of the day he wants you to be comfortable, but the times you do swallow and clean up the remaining mess on his cock would always leave him shuddering with pleasure and admiration. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He LOVES keeping dirty polaroids with him. Maybe not in his wallet where anyone could see, but for sure with him at all times, either of the both of you together or just you… it’s a nice reminder for him of what’s waiting at home.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s experienced at a very basic level, for sure. He knows what he likes, but he isn’t an encyclopedia of how to make his partner come just yet… he’d need a little guidance, but the smallest bit of reassurance and help and he’d be a master at it after a few minutes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl and reverse cowgirl for sure. It’s not that he doesn’t want to put in the work, because he absolutely likes taking control, but he likes being able to grab you and watch you feel good; he loves watching you hold onto his shoulders or knees and ride him, swirling your hips and whining.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious but he’s fun. You couldn’t role play with him because he’d end up giggling and taking himself out of it, but he doesn’t see sex as something funny, if that makes sense. He always has both of your pleasure in mind, but that wouldn’t stop him from biting at you, spanking you playfully and making it a fun experience.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Say it with me, I keep it short and simple! He’ll shave it all off and keep it trimmed for a week before he just let’s it go again - an infinite cycle.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s intimate but he’s not serious, you know? He loves being with you and feeling you, but he’s not about to make it a grand romantic gesture every single time. That doesn’t mean he won’t ever make it romantic, but he likes to keep you on your toes. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift…

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

He’s part of the population that thinks that if you jack off with your left hand, it feels like someone else is doing it… and while there’s no telling if that’s totally true, the fact that he always jacks off thinking about your hand moving up and down his cock or how tight you feel around him when he fucks you gets him there every time, regardless of what hand he uses.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

On par with the polaroid thing - exhibitionism - BUT!! Not in the traditinoal sense. He would never take photos or videos on either of your phones (can’t trust technology, honestly), but that wouldn’t stop him from taking polaroids of you or using a video camera to film the two of you, getting a rush from putting on a show, even if its just for the two of you to see again at a later date together.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Home! But in “dangerous” places. What I mean is like, right next to the window where no one could see you unless they were really looking, but the idea that it could happen is such a rush for the both of you. Or even just with the windows open, that risk of being heard drives him wild. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Don’t confuse this with a marking kink, but knowing that you’re his and knowing that you trusted him enough to be at his mercy whenever he asked gets him so hard, it’s insane. He’d never push if you were clearly not in the mood, but if you were reciprocating, he’d immediately take control, reminding you that you belong to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He’s someone who also gives vanilla… so no extreme kinks. Honestly, I can’t even see him exploring “tame” kinks… the farthest he’d go would be anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Since he loves coming in your mouth, he’s absolutely more of a receiver, but he’d never turn down the chance to lay between your legs and let you make a mess all over his face, his tongue skillfully flicking, his lips suctioning on you, vibrating with the hums of his moans.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You know… rough and slow and/or fast and sensual, depending on the situation. He’d absolutely slowly pull almost all the way out before slamming his hips back into yours, making you shudder with desire and need, and there are other times where he’d pull you against his chest and slam into you, his lips messily kissing and sucking on your neck and jawline, small reminders of “mine, all mine” being whispered in your ear.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’d be down for a quickie for sure, but he’d still make enough time for aftercare, for the both of you. Both because he enjoyed being cleaned up by you, but also praising you and reminding you that you did so good and made him feel so good. So… I think the quickest a quickie would be for him would be the time it takes for him to come from just you sucking him off, noting that he would absolutely return the favor the next time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

See above, with the window thing. I think he’d never put the two of you in real danger of being caught, but the risk of being heard through a door or a wall is something he will absolutely risk in a heartbeat.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Unfortunately, he is a one and done guy, but it’s not for lack of trying. You just make him come so hard the first time that he’s spent! I do think he would be down for a bit of edging every now and then, where he’d let you take some of the control where you’d bring him right to the edge then take your mouth away from him with a little pop, watching him writhe and beg for you to be good and let him come in your mouth.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Now!!! I personally think he would have quite a bit of fun with butt plugs. Not in himself, but for his partner. Having a small collection of them, some with heart shaped gems on the ends, some just solid silver, maybe a stray tail here or there… he’d love to watch you wear one around the house for a while wearing a skirt with nothing underneath, asking you to pick up something he’d “conveniently” drop so he could peek at the plug in you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases, but not in a typical way. It’s always subtle, be it teasing remarks about how good your body looks in what you’re wearing, how he could tell you were needy by the way you rutted against his thigh when you were in his lap… little bites on your neck to remind you he could fuck you senseless if he wanted to.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not a screamer but he’s not quiet, at all. The best way to put it is that the two of you could absolutely be heard through a wall if someone was really listening, but not loud enough to make out distinct words.

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

UMM Let’s talk about degradation :) I think :) he would be into that. But like… not badly, you know? Something gives me the vibe that he would like calling you dumb - but NEVER stupid, dabbling in some other things like calling you a slut :) that’s all :)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is so the kind of guy to get a boner at the smallest thing, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to drop to his knees and beg for you. If you’re not around or not feeling it, he can think it off, but on the rare occasions he can’t, well… that’s what those photos and videos are for! 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Within the hour for sure, but not immediately! He’d doze in and out for a bit, waking up to help you clean yourselves off, falling asleep after laying down in a too-comfy way, waking up again to get dressed and help you get dressed if you wanted to (he’d never protest naked cuddles, of course), and once it was truly all over and you were both cuddled up together, he’d be out. If there were things to do later in the day… good luck, because you’d have to be the one to wake him.

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 11 - zuko x fem!reader

Memories, where'd you go?

part 10 | masterlist | part 12

a/n: alternative name for this fic: y/n gets a crush on every pretty girl she meets. yue, katara, and now suki. she can't help it (and she questions why they're all connected to sokka in some way lmaoo)

anyways, this is kind of filler but it establishes some more with relationships and finallyyy gets us into ba sing se at the end. i know it's a lil annoying because there's a lot of episode-to-text writing, but i promise it'll get more freeform as it goes on

also i know that i just posted something yesterday but i have literally zero patience. like i cant hold chapters i have to post them as soon as i write them loll

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): some feels over zuko as per usual, but overall a pretty tame chapter

chapter title comes from memories by panic! at the disco!

Zuko could barely sleep anymore.

He didn’t know when his life became so complicated, but he wasn’t a fan of it.

Back when it was just him, his crew, and the open sea — it was simple. He had a job, a straightforward mission. Find the Avatar, capture him, return home to the Fire Nation and regain his honor.

Now, the waters were more muddied than ever. Now on the run from the Fire Nation just like the boy he was chasing, all he really felt nowadays was anger.

Angry at the world for setting him on this path, angry at the Avatar for refusing to see what was necessary, his sister and her friends for turning against him, angry at the waterbender for making things so damn hard.

He didn’t want to hurt her. A part of him wished that she had never come back into his life, if it meant he wouldn’t have to constantly be fighting against her. He hated himself for the thought, but maybe it would have been easier for her to remain a memory of a lover than his active enemy.

Late at night, when he was reaching fruitlessly for sleep that would never come, he saw her face. The carefree energy from their childhood morphed into the shock and disappointment from both the North and their fight with Azula, and…

It made him wonder what in Agni had happened to them.

He—

He didn’t know. The way he felt about her, it was different than anything he had experienced before. Zuko didn’t know what it was, but he understood that it was special. And now… it felt like he had just thrown it all away.

Zuko couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with her in that town — what he had done to her.

He had burned her to try and get to the Avatar, and he hadn’t even allowed a glance back at the damage he had done. He had heard her cry out in pain, pain he had caused, and he didn’t even look back.

What had happened to them? What had happened to him?

He kept telling himself that the mission was the only thing that mattered. And it was, wasn’t it? Capture the Avatar, regain his honor, get his old life back and finally be enough for his father. He didn’t have time for friends, or for these feelings he had, or— or for anything but capturing the Avatar. Because the Avatar was the key to everything, to his honor, and that was all that mattered.

But now…

Now, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know what was right, or what was wrong, or what path was the one he had to take.

Zuko just wished things could be like they used to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

She didn’t really know when everything had become a mess again.

It all started out fine, like it usually did. Toph had become fully integrated into the group, any past squabbles put to rest in the name of a stronger friendship emerging between all five of them. Katara continued to work on Aang’s waterbending (oftentimes Y/N joining them in their sessions) while Toph slowly but steadily beat earthbending into him — literally.

They had all been working hard for so long that, by decree of Aang, it was ‘vacation time’. They would all get to pick out places they wanted to spend as a break, and after it was over they would get back to work.

Aang had chosen some sort of field with musical groundhogs, and Y/N had opted to revisit an Earth Kingdom village that she had passed through on her journey to the North. Sokka had complained the whole time about how they were ‘wasting valuable planning time’, but had finally conceded after the promise of ‘all the planning his heart could desire’ from Katara after their mini-vacations were over.

Y/N was actually feeling somewhat relaxed for once, but she had forgotten the golden rule — never let your guard down. Everytime she let her guard down, something bad happened without fail. So it shouldn’t have been any surprise with what happened in the desert.

Because after one trip to the Misty Palms Oasis and a journey into the desert with a professor to a long lost library, Appa had been taken by desert raiders.

It was… less than favourable. During their escape from the library, Professor Zei had insisted on staying behind, and now the five of them were stuck in the middle of the desert with no way out and zero guidance. Add some brewing tensions between Aang and Toph because of her being there when Appa was taken, and they had a recipe for a huge disaster.

And a disaster they had. Multiple disasters, actually.

There was only so much she and Katara could do to hold the group together, but by some miracle, they made it out of the desert with only one Avatar State mishap.

(And an incident with cactus juice, but… she didn’t really want to talk about that.)

....at least they had the information about the Eclipse. That was about the only thing keeping her together at the moment.

They had to get the information to the Earth King so they could formulate an attack with his warriors, but without Appa, they had to resort to more traditional methods of travel. Add in one passport problem, and that was how Y/N found herself braving the Serpent’s Pass alongside a refugee family with a baby on the way.

It was… intimidating, to say the least. Despite being surrounded by her element, Y/N didn’t feel any safer from the challenge that faced them. She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on her fear the way her mother had taught her, as she followed the group, but her thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Hey.” She turned to see who the voice belonged to and was greeted by the girl that had teased Sokka early — Suki, if she remembered correctly. “I haven’t seen you around; are you with the Avatar or that family?”

“I’m with Aang,” Y/N explained. “I’m from the North, and they offered me a spot with them after they helped us defend our tribe against the Fire Nation. I’ve been with them ever since.” Suki nodded as they settled into a comfortable stride.

“That’s cool. Are you a waterbender?”

She gestured to her waterskin and smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been training with Aang and Katara ever since I left.” Y/N then turned her gaze back to Suki, raising an inquisitive brow. “Your makeup — what’s it for? I heard you talking about the Kyoshi Warriors back there; is that some kind of thing with Avatar Kyoshi?”

Suki grinned, her every expression heightened by the sharp reds and blacks above her eyes. “We’re a group of all-female warriors that use the teachings of Avatar Kyoshi and her partner Rangi to defend our home and the place she founded, Kyoshi Island. I’m the leader of our village section.”

“Wow,” she murmured, her eyes falling to the ground for a moment before finding their way back up to the warrior. “That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

She laughed and shrugged. “Thanks. I’ve been training as a warrior for almost my whole life, so it just comes naturally. I like being able to protect people, and there’s no better way to pay back my home for all it’s done for me like protecting the whole village.”

“Wow,” she repeated with a small laugh of her own. “That’s really brave. I gotta say, I’m kinda jealous — I would love to see what would happen if Master Pakku met you all. Katara literally had to beat the sexism out of him in order to train to be a master.”

Suki chuckled. “Sounds like what I had to do with Sokka. Guess it’s a thing with Water Tribe guys, huh?”

At the mention of Sokka, she internally laughed. There had to be some kind of connection between the two of them, the way their interests kept aligning. “Sokka… he’s had it hard. I can’t blame him that much for any kind of attitude he had before he met you. Pakku, on the other hand? He had to have had something better to do than fight teenage girls.”

“You would think so, right?” Suki agreed. “And Sokka… I know. He’s got a heart of gold underneath all that, he just needed a little push to get it out.” As Y/N glanced over at the girl, noticing a slight pink tint under the white makeup, she gasped.

“La’s fins, are you two a thing?” she exclaimed with a grin.

Suki flushed even harder as she suddenly became very interested in the ocean around her, but she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “No! I mean— yes— but… but—” she stopped to gather her thoughts before making eye contact again with a sheepish smile. “We’re not… really a thing, but… I do like him a lot. I didn’t really think I was going to see him again after they left the island, so this is really nice.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Y/N asked. “I can already tell that he cares about you — have you seen how careful he’s being with you?”

“Well—” Whatever kind of excuse Suki would’ve made up was interrupted by a rock falling out just under Than, one of the refugees they were with, saved in the nick of time with Toph’s earthbending.

“I’m okay!” he reassured, but no sooner had the words left his mouth before the Fire Nation ship in the distance started firing.

“They’ve spotted us!” Sokka yelled. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Aang flicked his glider open and deflected the blast, and Katara grabbed Y/N’s hand as they all began to run. Another blast rocked the mountain, causing several boulders to fall just above Suki. Y/N didn’t even have time to shout out a warning before Sokka tackled her out of the way, but it was ultimately more of Toph’s quick earthbending that saved him.

“Suki, are you okay?” Sokka brushed dust and pebbles off of her uniform as he examined her, and once he was satisfied he grabbed her hand and helped her up. “You have to be more careful! Come on!”

As the two of them caught up to Y/N and Katara, she gave Suki a knowing look. The warrior only blushed once again and glanced away.

After hours of navigating the pass, they were only about halfway through. Sokka made the executive decision to set up camp for the night to give everyone time to rest, and then they would get up at the crack of dawn to finish their trip. It only took a few minutes for Y/N to get a fire going, and soon everyone had settled in with their sleeping bags. Sokka got up from his spot as Suki wandered closer to the edge, and Katara nudged Y/N with her shoulder.

“Hey. How are your hands doing?”

“They’re fine,” she answered with a small smile, flipping her hands over as proof. Where there were once red burn scars on her palms only tiny white marks remained — one benefit to healing via waterbending was that most injuries were able to fade away completely after enough sessions. Her burns weren’t very serious and she was able to heal them almost immediately, so both her and Katara were sure that the marks would be completely gone soon.

The mental scars wouldn’t fade as easily.

“That’s good. And you’re taking care of them, right? Like, you’re not beating up people while we’re not looking?”

Y/N grinned. “No. I think I’ll leave that to Toph.”

Katara chuckled and nodded, turning her hands over in a final examination before nodding. “Good,” she repeated. The silence between them, although comfortable, stretched out for a little too long before she spoke again, this time much quieter. “He did this to you.”

“Katara…”

“I know,” she said. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, or really at all, but… I’m worried about you. Zuko isn’t good for you. Every time we’ve run into him, he’s hurt you. And you deserve so much more than that.”

“You don’t understand,” she countered. “You don’t know Zuko like I do. You weren’t there when I was. I know you think I’m insane for still believing in him, but I— I can’t let go of him, Katara. I know the Zuko I love is still in there somewhere, and I have to try and find it. For me and for him.”

Katara’s eyes were full of nothing but sympathy as she sighed — it was obvious she didn’t believe her words, but in true fashion she was still trying her best to be supportive.

“Okay. I don’t understand it, but… I don’t think I can change your mind.” Y/N chuckled sadly and nodded, Katara’s piercing gaze meeting her own once more. “It’s just… Why are you playing with fire when you know you’re going to get burned?”

And for once, Y/N didn’t have an answer for her friend.

~~~~~~~~~

The night went by quickly, which Y/N was thankful for. It meant that the nightmares didn’t last as long.

After a quick headcount to make sure no one had fallen off the pass overnight and an even quicker gathering of their things, they set off to finish their journey.

It went just as well as she had expected — a giant serpent, the namesake of the pass, had attacked them while crossing through an underwater section. Thankfully, she was able to aid Katara and Aang in defeating it with waterbending with no casualties

But in the wake of one disaster there was always another, and before Y/N knew it a baby had been born. She was mostly there for moral support — Katara had it all handled, and Y/N didn’t expect anything less.

But finally, they had made it across the pass, and they were so close to Ba Sing Se that she could almost smell the city air. Sadly, though, that meant it was time for them to part ways — Aang to find Appa, and Suki back to her warriors. After some sad but hopeful goodbyes with Aang, it was time to bid farewell to Suki.

“Are you sure you can’t travel a little longer with us?” Y/N questioned, apparently not above pleading to try and get the girl to stay. “You’re— you’re amazing, and we’d really love to have you with us.”

“I can’t even imagine what travelling with the Avatar would be like,” she smiled, causing Y/N to get her hopes up for just a moment before they fell back down. “But I can’t stay. I have to get back to the Kyoshi Warriors.”

Y/N sighed, her gaze falling slightly downcast. “I get that. I just really wish you could stay. Or that I could meet your warriors. You seriously don’t know how cool you are, Suki.”

“Well, if you’re ever in town on Kyoshi Island, find us. I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out and do you one better than just meeting them all,” she said with a grin. “I think it’d be pretty cool to have the first waterbending Kyoshi Warrior.”

Y/N was unable to prevent the heat rushing to her cheeks as she smiled shyly, once again averting eye contact. “That would be amazing. I’ll have to find my way back there after the war.”

Suki bumped shoulders with her, causing a startled laugh to spill from her lips. “We’d love to have you.”

“Wait, why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye to her?” Sokka questioned as he walked up to the two of them. Y/N winked at Suki and gestured at him with her head, walking off before Suki could protest to find Katara.

The conversation the two girls were sharing was an extremely thinly veiled excuse to eavesdrop on the lovebirds, and when they kissed Y/N actually had to hold back a scream.

Sokka deserved this. She knew how much he beat himself up over every little thing that went wrong, and it was about time he got to relax even for a moment. She only hoped that Suki would be in their corner of the world sooner rather than later.

What could she say? She was already fantasizing about life as a Kyoshi Warrior.

~~~~~~~~~

Although they had parted ways, they soon found themselves reunited with Aang to stop yet another Fire Nation threat.

“For the love of Kuruk,” Y/N murmured as she stared into the distance, her eyes wide at the sight of a large mechanical drill. “That was Ty Lee who just took down all those soldiers. And if she’s here, Mai and Azula are with her too. Guys, It’s one thing to stop this drill, it’s another thing to take those three down with it.”

“The question is, how do we do it?” Aang questioned.

“Why can nothing ever be easy?” Sokka lamented. His gaze remained trained on the drill for a moment before he realized theirs were on him. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“You’re the idea guy,” Aang said.

“Wait, so I’m the only one who can ever come up with a plan?” he protested. “That’s a lot of pressure!”

“And also the complaining guy,” Katara muttered, drawing a chuckle out from Y/N.

“Now that part I don’t mind,” Sokka admitted.

“Well, Sokka— you were a huge help in the North, and you figured out a way to defeat the Fire Nation during that eclipse at the library! Plus, there’s all that stuff that Katara told me you did before I joined.” She patted him on the back. “If anyone can figure out how to take that thing down, it’s you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his ego only slightly bolstered. “...okay. I think I can do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a smile.

Unfortunately, that smile faded as a young guard came running up to the wall. “Excuse me, Avatar and friends — I’ve heard that you’ve dealt with that… that pink girl down there before.” They nodded and he continued. “It would do us a great deal of help if you could come down and look at our injured soldiers, then.”

Y/N and Katara nodded in unison and started to follow the guard, the remaining three trailing after them. They ended up inside the wall, in what looked like an infirmary of sorts with all the cots and soldiers lying around, and the two waterbenders exchanged looks.

“You know what to do?” Katara asked.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, and they both knelt down next to separate cots. “This definitely looks like Ty Lee’s work,” she murmured as she bent water up from the pot and molded it over the man’s arm.

“What’s wrong with him?” the general questioned. “He doesn’t look injured.”

“His chi is blocked,” Katara explained. “Who did this to you?”

“Two girls ambushed us,” the soldier said, moving his arm as he regained feeling. “One of them hit me with a bunch of quick jabs and suddenly I couldn't earthbend anymore and I could barely move. Then she cartwheeled away.”

Katara sighed as she bent the water back into the pot. “You were right, Y/N. That was Ty Lee — she doesn’t look dangerous, but she knows the human body and its weak point. It’s like she takes you down from the inside.”

As if struck by lightning, Sokka lit up. “Oh, oh, oh! What you just said — that’s how we’re going to take down the drill; the same way Ty Lee took down all those earthbenders!”

“By hitting its pressure points!” Toph exclaimed with a grin.

The breakthrough brought a steely determination to Aang’s features as he looked out into the distance. “We’ll take it down from the inside.”

~~~~~~~~~

Like everything they did, it seemed so simple on paper. But now that she was actually inside the drill, it felt a lot more nerve wracking. Toph opted to stay outside where she could see and try to slow down the drill with the earth at her disposal, which left the four of them to somehow take it down from the inside.

Sokka led them through a hallway with a myriad of valves and pipes as he thought out loud. “I need a plan of this machine — some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points.”

“Where are we gonna get something like that?” Aang asked.

Sokka thought for a moment before he took his machete out and hacked a valve off a pipe. Y/N instinctively took a step back and shielded her face from the hot steam. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Someone’s gonna hear us!”

“That’s the point!” he exclaimed. “A machine this big needs engineers to run it, and when something breaks—”

“Someone will come down to fix it!” Katara finished with a smile at Aang, a sentiment the boy returned happily.

It was surprisingly easy to take down the engineer once he arrived — with a little bit of frozen mist on Katara’s end, they had the plans they needed. Sokka’s expertise combined with the blueprints got them to the beginning of the outer shell.

“Wow,” Sokka muttered. “It looks a lot thicker than it does in the plans. We’re gonna have to work pretty hard to cut through that.”

Katara crossed her arms. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff? The three of us are gonna have to do all the work.”

“Look, I’m the plan guy!” Sokka explained with a gesture to himself. “You three are the ‘cut up stuff with waterbending’ guys. Together, we’re Team Avatar!”

Katara and Aang looked wholly unamused while Y/N chuckled. “Team Avatar. I like it.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “At least someone appreciates my genius.”

“Tui’s gills, why do you have to keep boosting his ego?” Katara complained. “Let’s just get this done before it gets worse.”

The three of them got in position — Katara and Aang on opposite sides so they could pass the stream of water between them, and Y/N making the point of the triangle to work on the other side on her own. They were hoping it would be more efficient being able to cut through both sides at the same time, but it was proving to be much more difficult than they had imagined — halfway through the three of them were already exhausted.

By some feat of strength they were able to completely cut through the brace, but their hard work didn’t pay off in quite the way they had imagined — when the beam only shifted a few inches she groaned.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she breathed as she wiped sweat off of her forehead.

“At this rate,” Katara paused to inhale deeply, “we won’t do enough damage before the drill reaches the wall.”

“I don’t know how many more of those I have in me,” Aang said sadly.

A large creak suddenly rang throughout the large chamber, and they all looked up for the source.

“Did you hear that?” Sokka asked, already backing up to make an exit. “We took it down! We gotta get out of here, fast!”

Just as they reached the door on the other side, a crackle followed by the sound of a man’s voice dashed their hopes. “Congratulations, crew. The drill has made contact with the wall of Ba Sing Se. Start the countdown to victory!”

A collective silence hung in the air between them, the threat now even more imminent as their situation sunk in. Mai and Ty Lee had proven effective in taking down any Earth Kingdom threat posed at them, and despite Toph’s skill they knew she couldn’t take down something like this on their own.

They either had to figure out a way to destroy this drill, or the Fire Nation was going to make it into the city.

Sokka ran back over to the brace and pushed against it, putting all his strength into the feat but to no avail. “Come…. on! Move!”

Katara started pacing around in a small circle, crossing her arms again as she tried to think of something. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“Sokka, that’s not going to work!” Y/N didn’t mean to snap, but the grinding of metal on metal combined with her nervousness got to her. She sighed and ran her hand over her face. “I— I’m sorry. But it’s still not going to work.”

He groaned as he leaned against the brace. “We’re putting everything we have into busting these things, but it’s taking too long!”

Suddenly, Aang jumped up from the ground with stars in his eyes. “Maybe we don’t need to cut all the way through! Toph — she’s been teaching me that you shouldn’t put a hundred percent of your energy in any one strike. Sokka, get in a fighting stance.”

Sokka complied and as Aang talked through his points, he demonstrated it on Sokka. “You've got to be quick and accurate. Hit a series of points and break your opponent's stance. And when he's reeling back, you deliver the final blow. His own weight becomes his downfall, literally.”

As Sokka fell over from the attack, Katara lit up. “So we just need to weaken the braces instead of cutting all the way through—”

“—then I can go to the top of this thing and deliver the final blow!” Aang finished.

Y/N helped Sokka up from the ground, his spirits not dampened at all. “Then boom! This whole thing goes down!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Y/N asked, flexing her fingers to refresh them for all the bending she was going to have to do. “Aang, Katara and I can handle the braces. Focus on getting up to the top before anyone sees you.”

He nodded and they all met each other with determined eyes. “Everyone inside that wall, the whole world — they’re all counting on us.”

“Here, take this. You need this more than I do. ” Katara took her waterskin off and handed it to Aang. “Good luck. And be careful.”

Y/N noticed a slight blush on her cheeks and she had to hold back her smile. That was definitely something she was going to tease her friend about later — when they weren’t trying to stop the Fire Nation from breaking into Ba Sing Se.

“I will,” he assured. Aang slung the strap of the waterskin around his shoulder and took off, and Y/N and Katara got to work breaking through the rest of the braces.

With the knowledge that they only had to cut through half of each column and the revitalization that came from having a plan, their work went by much quicker. Just when they finished the final brace, it all went wrong.

“Good work, Team Avatar!” Sokka cheered. “Now we— Y/N, duck!”

She didn’t question Sokka as she immediately dropped to the ground, something she was immensely thankful for as a blast of blue fire seared past her. Her eyes snapped up to the source of the attack and narrowed in recognition.

“Of course they’re here,” she growled as she pulled herself back up. “We gotta go, now!”

Katara and Sokka nodded and they all started running. Bringing up the rear, Y/N was able to hear Azula’s words right before they split off into an intersection:

“Follow them! I’m going to find the Avatar.”

Sure enough, when she allowed a glance back, Mai and Ty Lee were closing in on them. She flicked open the cap of her waterskin and bent some out, managing to freeze it at just the right moment to block the incoming daggers from Mai. Still running, she melted it quickly and let it fall to the ground before freezing it again, creating some ice on the ground that would hopefully give them a few more seconds of leeway.

“That should give us some time!” she yelled as they turned a corner, finally turning her attention back to the path in front of them. “Any idea how we’re gonna get out of this thing?”

“Maybe!” Sokka yelled back, slowing to a stop as they came to a dead end, a large hatch the only thing at their disposal. He started tugging on the wheel in an attempt to open it, and when Y/N joined in they were able to wrench it open.

“Slurry pipeline?” Katara frowned as she read the sign on the wall and looked at Sokka. “What does that mean?”

“It’s rock and water mixed together,” he explained as they looked into the rushing liquid underneath the hatch. “It means it’s our way out!”

Katara nodded and climbed in, Sokka following close after. The sound of metal footsteps got closer and closer, and Y/N ducked inside just as Mai’s knives clanked against the hatch. Never before had she been so happy to be floating in a stream of slurry.

The rest of their mission went by surprisingly easy — at least, on their end. All it took was some waterbending — earthbending, when Toph joined them — and encouragement from Sokka (though unappreciated by Katara). Whatever magic Aang was working at the top of the drill had done its job, because soon enough the drill had collapsed in on itself.

And now, they had reunited on the top of the wall overlooking the sunset. After the chaos that had been their day, it was nice to just relax for even a moment. And there was no better way to do so than with her friends.

“I just want to say, good effort out there, Team Avatar!” Sokka exclaimed as he threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Enough with the ‘Team Avatar’ stuff,” Katara said dryly. “No matter how many times you say it, it’s not going to catch on.”

“I like it, Sokka,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve liked it this whole time.”

“You always appreciate my genius, Y/N,” he mused. “That’s why I appreciate you.” She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder as he continued to list off names.

“How about… the Boomeraang squad! Eh? See, it’s good because it’s boomerang, and it has Aang in it—”

“Yeah Sokka,” Toph interrupted. “We got it.”

Aang grinned and scratched his head. “I kinda like that one.”

“The Aang Gang. Ooh, the Fearsome Fivesome!”

“You’re crazy,” Toph muttered as she walked away.

“Wait, Sokka—” Y/N pulled away from him and held up her pointer finger. “Aang Gang — what if we combine it, so it’s just the Gaang? But still with Aang’s name?”

And at that moment, Sokka looked more proud than ever. “Oh, you— you are a genius.”

“Oh, spirits,” Katara groaned. “Why do you insist on encouraging him?”

“You’re just jealous of our name-making abilities,” Sokka said haughtily.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You two are completely ridiculous, you know that? Let’s just get into the city before the trains stop running.”

Y/N and Sokka winked at each other as they all started walking, unable to keep the smile off of her face. She always thought it was amazing — they went through insane things every day, but at the end of it all she was always able to smile because of them. And as her gaze drifted towards the city in the distance, she hoped it would hold true.

She had no idea what Ba Sing Se had in store for her.

-

shit is gonna happen next chapter so i hope you all are READY bc im not

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

ehfar tags: @chandies-sideblog @zacatecanaaaa @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @carisi-sonny @selfship-mishaps @i-belong-in-fandoms @ilistentotayswifttocope @i-make-questionable-choices @3leni

[kiridarling]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐬

as pro heroes, business trips are both unavoidable and frequent. but it’s weird to be away from you for so long...and it messes with their sex-drives more than they’d like to admit. what happens when they’re away? 

(phone sex + desperation + semi!public sex + more) 

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎

— Shouto feels...confused. He’s not used to missing people, not like this. Not to the point where he’s risking his job (and life) just to hear your voice.

— He’s on a stealth mission. every bone in his body says that he probably shouldn’t be calling you, but due to the fact that you’re both fairly busy people and he’s been sent to the other side of the world, this was the only time you two could get a solid conversation in.

— But there’s a slight problem.

— Shouto’s lodged in an alley, in enough darkness that getting caught isn’t necessarily a...primary concern. So he’s practically forgotten about the case at hand, preoccupied with trying to figure out how your voice could have gotten him so hard so quickly, and how to make it go away fast, before he has to fight a villain with a half chub. And honestly, Shouto would prefer to not.

— But his hand is wanders to palm himself through the fabric of his hero suit regardless. Meanwhile, you rattle on about your day, none the wiser.

— And really, Shouto has no reason to panic until you ask him about his day, spurring the pro hero into a flurry of stutters as he tries to regain his bearings, if only for a moment.

“M-My day? It um, it was uh—shit—nice, I suppose.”

— His response has you asking if he was okay, voice much too high pitched and uneven for him at any given moment; but Shouto’s determined to stand his ground and not let you find out, because that would be weird, right?

— Right.

— So you don’t notice. Which is good because Shouto gets to relax against the wall, hand down his pants and mission half-forgotten, smiling at your little gasps and giggles, and stutters when you realize you accidentally skipped an important detail of the story. You sound so pretty and he’s been gone for so long, your voice brings him to the edge much faster than anticipated.

— But naturally, you try for conversation, and Shouto struggles with stilling his palm to give you a proper answer.

“What i ate? Uhm, u-uh—fuck, I don’t...I don’t remember—o-oh shi—I mean, uhm, I think c-cereal maybe...”

“For dinner, Shou?”

— Fuck.

“Y-Yeah. I...I do that some—sometimes..”

— Shouto clears his throat. Fuck. Fuck, he’s going go cum, like right now, and you won’t stop asking him things—

— At this point, Shouto’s borderline hyperventilating and convinced you’re just fucking with him at this point, legs so close to collapsing they’re shaking, and finally, you ask him what the hell he’s doing.

“What—What i’m doing? I’m just...just ta—alking—fuck, fuck one sec I—there’s someth—“

— He’s hanging up and doesn’t even have enough time to worry about the consequences before he’s filling his hero suit with a groan, head thumping against the brick wall. Shouto’s seeing stars for a second and then some, just trying to regain the feeling in his fingers before he has to go fight with cum in his boxers like he’s back at UA. Though, he’ll admit it—the orgasm was most definitely worth it.

𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎

— Keigo takes a few days to call. Because this him establishing dominance, demonstrating he’s completely fine without his baby bird and can do everything himself.

— Except he’s a fucking mess.

— He’s lost a grand total of three shirts (two of which never left the hotel room) broken a vase due to a rogue wing twitch (which he has to pay 1,000 bucks to replace, by the way) and now Keigo can’t fucking find his hero license, and if he lost that, he’s beyond fucked.

— So Keigo has to call you. Not because he needs you or anything, but he really, really needs to make sure that license is still at home, and not in some fucking sewer somewhere.

“You finally called, huh?”

— Fuck, he missed your voice.

— But Keigo’s got to keep his head down, eyes on the goddamn prize, because you distract him too easily with nothing but a giggle and a wave, and Keigo’s not in the proper headspace to be distracted.

— You find it in a minute tops, and Keigo’s legs almost give out in relief. He didn’t lose it.

— When you ask him if that’s all he needed he says yes, and you move to hang-up.

“Okay, by—“

“Wait.”

— Because...hey. You’re not allowed to act like you’re perfectly fine without him! You’ve got to be struggling just as much as he is, right?

— Yeah. Definitely.

— And maybe...maybe his dick also missed you...a bit...

— But it’s not Keigo’s fault—he’s got the vitality of a fucking stallion and hasn’t had much alone time these past few days, so preoccupied with work work work that he didn’t even have time to think about touching his dick. And here you are, sounding just as sexy through the phone as you do at home, and Keigo starts to miss you miss you.

— So naturally, when he interrupts your story to ask what you’re doing, your fairly puzzled. And when he learns you’re doing nothing, little kei perks up a bit. (Er—more than he already is.)

— He asks if you’re alone, but all he receives is a snarky comment on who else would you be with? And he throws his head back in a cackle, because fuck, he misses you so fucking much.

“Take off your pants.”

— You choke from the out of the blue request, but the way Keigo doesn’t laugh shows that he’s 100% serious, and so does the clink of a belt through the phone.

“‘S been too fuckin’ long, goddammit, just get naked already.”

— Keigo would be embarrassed from sounding so desperate if weren’t so...well...that. He’s hard in seconds and leaking the moment he gets a hand on himself. Keigo stutters out a demand to know what you’re doing because he needs to know right now, silently hoping he doesn’t have neighbors because they sure as hell can hear his moans.

“F-fuck baby bird—shit, miss you so fuckin’ much.”

— When you say you miss him too he keens over, his free hand fisting the sheets from an impending orgasm. He’s not in a position he’d prefer to be seen in, per se, hunched over himself and drooling over his cock with quivering thighs and an arm moving at a startling speed. But here he is, so fucking close, and he just needs a little more to push him off the edge.

“Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close—baby, baby tell me that you miss me again, s-say it, just one more time for me please—“

— Of course you do (because who are you to deny such a request?) and Keigo’s filling his fist, until cum’s dripping down his cock and oozing between the gaps in his knuckles. It’s a lot, but in his defense, he’s used to coming every day.

— this an 18+ blog. minors dni.

[thismaydestroyme]

Little Did I know Pt. 2

summary: in this short story, harry is famous, and he moved into a town during the summer to relax and potentially write some new songs for his upcoming album. i included some song lyrics from different amazing artists, and i pretended that harry and y/n wrote it.

author’s note: i wrote the beginning of this two months ago me being lazy i picked up where i left off because i’m too lazy to read through this. so if there’s any major fuck ups then…. i did warn you that i’m incompetent

word count: 3165

“I’m a SLAVE FOR YOU!” Y/N shouts out, and little did you know Harry was front and center watching your trainwreck of a performance. 

Harry did a whole french inhale without breaking eye contact with you. “I really wanna dance tonight with you.” Y/N hears Brittany playing in the background which you pause the music, to see what Harry would say about your little ‘performance.’ 

“Really? A slave? don’t you think it’s pretty dramatic don’t ya think?” Harry says, raising one of his eyebrows. You know he’s just playing around, but you coudn’t help feeling embarrassed how he fucking witnessed… that. You don't want Harry to know that you’re embarrassed, so you did the next best thing. 

“That fucking snake was huge. Did you know she was holding an Albino Burmese Python? I bet MTV wasn’t expecting that. Do you think MTV got filthy rich from that performance? Everyone tuned in for that performance and till this day it’s still the most talked about.” You ramble and spew out random information you bet Harry couldn’t care two shit about.” Harry has a smirk on his face, you bet he was enjoying you looking like a damn idiot. 

You start profusely apologizing until Harry interrupts you, “Do you want to come over?” He says all nonchalantly and walks away without you even agreeing. You’re all stunned and weren't able to even say one single word or even move your two feet. Harry doesn’t need to turn around to see you not moving, “C’mon weirdo, don’t act all shy with me now.” He threw back. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, but your feet finally start to move and your feet are heading straight to Harry. 

Harry turned his head and started to smirk, but he kept walking which had you feeling some nerves building up in your stomach. You’re not scared per se, just you’re going to Harry Styles house. This is normal. This is fine. This is just a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

Cool. 

When you finally get to his entrance Harry is already inside and he disappears somewhere because you don’t see him. You hesitantly walk inside and shut the door behind you. When you turn around you couldn’t help, but notice the disarray this house is covered in. Your mouth gape opened, but you immediately brought your hands to cover up how shocked you are. You couldn’t help but gawk at Harry’s place. There’s a big pink couch in the center of the room which is covered in boxes and clothes. There’s a TV on the floor which doesn’t seem to be plugged in because you don’t see it even plugged in. You try not to be too judgy because he did just move in, so what do you expect?  Harry having his life all sorted out in a span of a couple of weeks? 

You almost missed the nice white fluffy carpet that’s underneath the couch. Even though Harry’s place is a disaster, you can envision what Harry is planning on doing when he has his stuff all situated. In the back of your mind you hope he might even invite you back if he does a ‘welcoming party.’

Before you could even investigate more Harry walks back in with two bottles of water in his hand. He’s already drinking out of one of them, so he handed the one that hasn’t been opened to you. You reach your hands over to grab it. 

“This isn’t safe for the environment.” You states while unscrewing the cap. 

“Well.. you belting out to Britney is an endangerment to our society, so I guess we both got the short end of the sticks.” 

You immediately start drinking your water because you didn’t have your next rebuttal. You start scanning the room and hoping it’ll have your heartbeat settle down because you can feel it through your chest. Harry moves from his spot and starts taking boxes off the couch and to make some room for the both of you. He had to take down three boxes, so you could both sit comfortably. 

Harry walks over to you, but you freeze. Harry was pleased knowing he had you all flustered. It was one of Harry’s turn ons. Harry sits and brings his arms draping on the back of the couch which would have you being in his arm if you decide to sit right there. A couple of seconds of you contemplating you walk towards Harry and hesitantly sit down. 

“I’m not going to bite.” he whispers in your left ear. Feeling his breath in your ear made you slightly clench your thighs together, hoping Harry doesn’t notice. But knowing your track record he probably did notice.

You try to come up with a conversation starter that hopefully doesn't hold all the spotlight on you. You look down at her close water bottle and scrambling for something in her head. 

“Now you’re shy. The last time I checked up you were coming for my head after that  mishap with your dog earlier.” 

“You deserved it. You were attacking Cosmo, so yeah. I was in fact coming for your ass.” You glance your eyes to Harry. You’re overly protected over Cosmo. Cosmo is your life.

Harry gave you a smirk. He couldn’t help but to admire your bluntness. He barely comes across people who lit a fire inside of him. They always try to please him because he is a celebrity, and people just want to please him- which he doesn’t mind, but he does wish they sometime bites back. Having you in his presence he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, little did he know, he wants to get to know you more. 

“What do you do, Y/N besides piercing people’s eardrums and being a dog mom.” 

“Ummm.. that’s a loaded fucking question. But you being Harry fuckin’ Styles I guess I have to come up with something to make myself more interesting and less… chaotic. Well I’m a 21 years old who doesn’t have anything to offer to this world. I live my life accepting I’ll probably be working at Newbury Comics. And on top of that I love music, but I’ll be considered unqualified because I have no talents, and all I could do is muster up some mediocre lyrics that I have stored in my notes app.” 

Harry didn’t break any eye contact when you were summarizing your sad life. That created a pit in your stomach because you never experienced anything that could ever compare to Harry’s tense gaze. 

Harry never encountered anyone in the span of meeting them baring their skin to him. He couldn’t help, but feel some sort of pride knowing he created a space for Y/N to be able to let your hair down and express herself in full detail. He feels more drawn to you because he knows what you’re feeling. The unknown is a scary thing to feel, but you’re doing that with grace without you even realizing it. Just accepting reality is the biggest thing to acknowledge, and you’re doing just that. 

“What do you have on your notes? Could you even help me write my next album.” Harry shrug glances his eyes away from you. 

You feel a surge of worries entering her body. You don't know what’s going on, and you don't like it. “What?! You barely know me. My so-called ‘lyrics’ could be shitty and cliche. What are you getting out of this? My humiliation?” You don't like being taken as a joke, but that’s all  you could come up with this peculiar interaction. Harry sees a naive little girl. 

“You’re pretty,” Harry says. And that’s all he said. He got up and walked out the room. You're left on the couch alone, and not understanding what he just said. Just a few minutes ago he asked for your help, and now just a few seconds ago he said you’re pretty. What kind of fuckery is this?!

You immediately got up and walked to whatever room you could find Harry in. It wasn’t that hard because Harry is in the kitchen. 

“Harry! I need you to explain. Talk to me, please.” You say while running her hands down your face. You thanked yourself for not wearing any makeup.

“Uh, you beg. I like that Y/N,” Harry chuckles and closes his fridge door. 

“Well…. I do find you attractive and I see a potential in you. I might be wrong or I might be right. There’s nothing wrong with finding out and seeing what you have.” Harry says. Harry isn’t afraid to look people in the eyes, but you sure do. You’re debating if you should  take this risk. Harry did say there’s nothing wrong with finding it out. 

“Fine. I will take that jump with you.” You say unsurely, but you have some faith in him and a little bit in yourself. 

“Good. Now can you stop being tense and enjoy yourself. You’re in fact talking to the one and only Harry Styles.” 

“Shut up, doofus.” 

One month Later

After Harry made the deal with you a month ago,  you guys have been surprisingly working together quite nicely. You guys wrote one complete song, and that song is now called, “Dirty Little Secret.” You can’t wait to hear Harry sing that song with his band because you’re pretty sure it will fit the band theme for his upcoming album. Harry doesn’t want to limit himself, but he does have an idea to make his third album mostly rock. 

Harry didn’t expect you to be a fuckin’ genious. Watching you in the corner jotting down lines in your beat up notebook with a pen in your hand made you start feeling someway. You always appreciate the art seeing people enjoy what they do, but Y/N is truly gifted because she has no experience with producing music. One long night two weeks ago you guys were sleep deprived because there was a week where you guys would stay up all night to write and you would stop when you saw the sunrise. Y/N found her love in music because of her father. He was a huge factor that made her who she is today. There was substance in her when she would talk about the accent in a song, how she would bounce that off with the bar while you would play the instruments. Y/N is truly a force to be reckoned with and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be like to have her on tour with you. 

Y/N never felt more alive after her father passed. It’s like Harry woken something inside of her. You never thought you would experiment with music with Harry Styles, the artist for this generation. You’re not going to lie that you would watched all of his interviews and he would talk about when he write songs he has no boundaries, and it’s crazy he upheld that ideology because Harry made sure you know that there’s no right or wrong way, the only way is to play around and see how it goes. 

“I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?” You ask Harry dropping your notebook on the coffee table that’s covered in rolled up papers and a lot of take out boxes.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He says. You nod at him, and you got up to grab two cups of ice water for you both. 

Your notebook page flipped to a new page and Harry couldn’t help but notice to see “Bubblegum Bitch” written in all caps. Harry got intrigued, so he happily kicked the table so the book could fall, so his excuse could be, “Y/N it fell.” 

Harry kicked the coffee table with his big ass feet and the notebook happily splat on the floor. Harry reached for it and started flipping pages to see that title again, and it took him a couple of tries to find it. 

“Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll

Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored

I'm the girl you'd die for”

Harry couldn’t help but not try to read all the lyrics. He wants to digest it all, but he knew Y/N could walk in any second. He couldn’t help but make a small gasp when he skimmed to the part of the song that had him falling on his knees 

“I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch.” 

“Harry, what are you doing?” Y/N says timidly. On the outside Y/N is calm and cool and collective, but on the inside you’re shaking and screaming. Your songs are attended only to you, not for other eyes to see. You’re still not confident with your writing abilities when it comes to songs for yourself, but knowing your idol probably read more than one line of your song is having you want the ground to swallow you up. 

“I’m not going to tiptoe around you and pretend Y/N. Bubblegum Bitch is amazing, fuck maybe fucking brillant Y/N. Shit.” Harry says he looks at you but goes back down to your notebook flipping pages after pages. 

You’re stuck where you’re standing. Feeling the condensation of two cups of water you’re currently holding is the only concept you’re able to maintain. 

Did Harry say that he likes your songs? Did he say brilliant? You’re not able to speak, all you’re able to do is walk up to the coffee table, drop the cups down and grab your notebook from Harry's grabby hands and collect your belongings. This is too much. You feel too much. You simply can’t right now. 

Harry sees you picking up your stuff and shoving your notebook and pens in your purse you bring every time you visit him. Harry couldn’t help, but feel bad that he could possibly make you feel uncomfortable. 

Harry stands up and starts walking up to where you are putting the last thing in your bag, “Y/N I’m sorry if me going through your stuff made you angry, but I couldn't help it Y/N. What I read was amazing, you’re amazing.” Harry hurrys out his words because he felt if he didn’t say it fast enough you would vanish. 

You’re trying to hold back your tears because it’s getting too much for you. The last time somebody read your stuff was your father, and right now you feel like you’re betraying the intimate moments you had with him. He was the one you would share your songs first with him. Now that he’s gone, you couldn’t put yourself out there to have someone else read it. You turn back around and you try to give a smile to Harry. 

“It’s okay, I- I just have to go. I’m sorry. We can talk later.” You push past Harry to make it to the front door, but you feel someone hand on your wrist so you immediately stop. 

“Y/N, I can’t have you leave, when I know that you’re not okay. Can you please talk to me? Please?” There’s a hint of sadness in Harry. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave him without having the answer he’s yearning for. 

You turn around and there’s Harry. His green eyes are pleading with yours, and you couldn’t help, but do what Harry is asking you to do. 

“Okay, I don’t want pity. Okay? Tell me you understand.” You ask Harry because the last thing you want from him is sympathy. 

“I promise Y/N. Would you mind if we sit down?” You nod your head and he walks you back with his hand in your hand. You both couldn’t help but feel some sort of palse running inside you both while holding each other's hands. It’s something both of you guys can’t simply forget. 

You got to the couch and you both sat down, no longer holding hands. You adjust yourself so you can face him. “Okay. My father died a couple of years ago and he was the only one I let read my stuff first. After he passed I never showed anyone my stuff because it would feel like I’m replacing him. I’m not mad that you read my stuff- I was just surprised, and I couldn’t help it but feel sadness creeping over me. Once again, I’m not angry at you, I’m just adjusting to a new milestone I just crossed without me not realizing it.” You say, and you’re hoping Harry doesn’t say, “Oh I’m sorry”  because you’re sorry to. 

“Well, I’m not sorry for your loss,” Harry says and you couldn’t help, but smile and laugh. “but I’m not sorry that I read it. You have something Y/N and I know you told me you haven’t had any experience in music industry, but fuck that. You have passion and I feel that every time we write something together in the past month, I don’t think I'll be able to forget about you when the summer is over.” Harry says. There was so much sincerity in what he just said.  

You thought it was all one sided because you felt so much being with Harry. You felt you were finally seeing a rainbow you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Harry brings so much out of you that you. Harry was always there when you were scared to take the first step. Him being there with you made it less scary because he was there every step of the way.

Harry didn’t expect he would’ve met someone this summer who would make such an impact on him. Harry thought he would do a lot of hooks up, go to parties and write for the entirety of the summer. But the universe had something planned for him. He met Y/N. He didn’t want to tell Y/N he that he found his first and only love, but he didn’t want to scare her. She could probably feel the same way or she only saw him as a friend but neither of them were ready for that big leap of faith. Even Y/N knew Harry is someone she couldn’t live without because he brings something out of you that you never felt in your entire life and that was courage and faith. 

Y/N met her faith. Only time could tell if faith would lead Harry and Y/N the soulmate they both were looking for.

“Harry, I don’t think I could possibly forget about you.” Y/N whisper because you felt if you used your normal voice the bubble you guys created would shatter within seconds.

Faith is a silly thing because faith could have you longing for something that’s impossible to grasp or faith could have you leaving you vulnerable, but that vulnerability could unlock something you never dreamt was even possible. 

[icedthoma]

I get cold super easily too!!!! I sometimes like to imagine what Todoroki's reaction would be to a s/o like that. You'd be freezing in a slightly cold room and he notices you shiver and he's like... wtf? How are you cold rn?? He's blunt but also kinda a quiet gentleman so I can never figure out if he'd say it out loud or not 😂😂😂

IKR??? Winter is great and all but I’d rather not be shivering violently as I get ready in the morning T-T I be out here with like 4+ layers on and all my friends are like ???It’s not even cold?? >:(( i hate it here

Anyways I hope you don’t mind I wrote a little thing, it was so cute I couldn’t resist sjskdjskj

There was a loud clatter that filled the silence of Todoroki’s dorm room as you dropped your pencil yet again, followed by several loud swears as you bent down to retrieve it.

“Everything okay?” Todoroki asked, shooting you a curt side glance from where he was immersed in his own homework. 

You let out a small “Mm,” in agreement, but it didn’t escape his notice how your hands were trembling as you gripped your pencil once more, and how your shoulders were shaking while you fumbled around in your pencil pouch for some more lead to replace the one that had broken...no, you were shivering. 

Shifting his focus from his work, he turned towards you in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

“What do you mean?” you huffed through gritted teeth. “I’m f-fine.”

Shouto arched a brow in disbelief. You couldn’t fool him. Shuffling his chair closer to yours from where the two of you sat at his desk, he caught the side of your face with his palm, much to your surprise, with his other hand slipping between your fingers to replace your pencil. 

“S--Shouto!” you exclaimed, blinking rapidly under his narrowed gaze. “What--what are you doing?”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should see Recovery Girl as soon as possible,” he said, sliding his hand up to your forehead. “You don’t have a fever, though. A cold, maybe?”

Your gaze guiltily flickered to the side, “I guess you could say something like that...”

“I’ll make you some tea,” Todoroki said immediately, beginning to pull away, but the second his skin lifted from yours you let out a yelp and seized his hand in between both of yours, tugging him back to you. His brow furrowed in confusion as he settled back in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’m not sick, per se,” you said sheepishly. “I’m just, really, really cold.”

Shouto stared blankly at you as he tried to comprehend what you had just said. Sure, his quirk gave him higher cold and heat tolerance than the average person, but even he was pretty sure the temperature in the room wasn’t that bad. And yet here you were, shivering to the point you couldn’t even write neatly. You had dropped his hand and were sitting with your arms folded, a small pout beginning to form on your lips. 

Ah...he was probably taking too long to respond. 

“You’re cold?” he asked. “But it’s only--”

He winced as you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I knew you would say something like that! Every time I mention it’s cold someone always finds a way to make fun of me! ‘It’s not even that cold,’ this, and, ‘You think this is freezing?’ that--”

“Wait, hold on,” Todoroki said, hands held up defensively as you rambled on. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, or anything.”

You paused to take a deep breath, looking at him apologetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s just really annoying. And...you’re really warm. When you touched me, I almost didn’t want to let you go.” Eyes widening at what you had just said, you whipped back around, rubbing your stiff hands together as you stammered for words. “Uh--I mean--we should probably get back to work now, I’ve kept us off track for too long...” 

As you scrambled to get your side of his desk in order, he stood up and took ahold of your wrist, pulling you up to stand in front of him despite your protests. 

Closing the distance between the two of you, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest and relishing in the small fluttering in his heart as you immediately relaxed and melted into his touch. Resting your head on his shoulder, you hummed in delight as your hands slid under his arms and up his back, “Ahh...so nice...”

“Don’t worry,” Todoroki said with a small smile, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “Our homework can wait. I’ll keep you warm for as long as you need.”

g. taglist: @lambotski @animatedarchives @wompwomphq

send an ask to be added, removed, etc. 

[kozozaki]

The Blame - Ranboo x Reader Chapter 3

Y/n ended up falling asleep at Tommy's house from a combination of stress and just plain tiredness. She yawned quietly and started climbing the ladder, walking towards L'manburg. She got to the top of the staircase before stopping abruptly. 

"What the hell?!" She ran towards the now walled-in country, running her hand against the rocky obsidian. She could hear the angry and confused voices of Tubbo and Big Q on the other side. "Guys?" Y/n yelled to get their attention.

"Y/n?" Tubbo said from behind the wall

“Tubbo, what is this wall? Why is this here?”

“That’s exactly what I want to know!”

Y/n dug a small hole in the wall. “I haven’t seen you in a while so I came to L’manburg, but this isn’t what I was expecting…” she looked through the window of the camarvan to see Quackity yelling at Tommy. Her eyes narrowed, she knew why the walls were there, and she knew who put the walls up too.

“Y/n, let’s get inside the van, Fundy will be here soon,” Tubbo said. She nodded but didn’t go into the van yet.

“Y/n, do you know what happened to my house?” George was there. She froze.

“Something happened to your house?” She played dumb.

“Yeah, it was burnt and robbed. Dream said it was Tommy.” Of course Dream said it was Tommy. He wasn’t wrong per-se, but Dream was always out to get Tommy in one way or another, and it pissed Y/n off.

“Is that why there are walls around L’manburg?” George nodded. She looked at the town center, more specifically Ranboo. He didn't have his sunglasses on. His eyes were heterochromatic, one green, and one red. They looked really pretty. 

Ranboo gave Y/n a worried look, basically asking if she was okay. She nodded and waved. He waved back, still looking concerned. Tommy, Quackity, Tubbo, and Fundy exited the camarvan. “Let’s go speak to Dream,” Tubbo suggested. No one answered, but everyone followed.

“What are you doing here, Y/n?” Tommy asked.

“Tommy, I can’t go one day without waking up and being pissed at my brother,” she admitted. They were far enough behind the others now that they wouldn’t hear, “Tommy, they have no idea Ranboo and I were involved, they’ve tunnel-visioned on you. I would take the blame from you, but they wouldn’t care, they would just punish us both. If Ranboo gets blamed, I’m gonna take the heat for him.”

“But Y/n-”

“No, Tommy, I’m gonna take the criticism for him, and that’s final, no objections. His life is probably worth 3 times as much as mine, so it’ll be more beneficial.”

“I won’t argue with you, but I will argue that your life is equal to or higher than everyone’s, at least agree to that,” Tommy hated when she put herself down like that.

“I would be lying if I said I agree with you,” she said in a monotone voice.

“Tch. Look, it’s the green bastard.”

“Dream. Why did you build these walls around L’manburg?” Tubbo asked. Ghostbur was saying the other day how everyone seemed to prefer him dead than alive, but if Y/n were being honest, even in Wilbur’s slightly psychotic state, she would have preferred him as the president.

“Just as an incentive,” Dream looked at Y/n. She longed to rip that patronizing smile off his face. He knew she helped, but he was waiting to see if she would throw herself under the bus to save Ranboo. He knew her more than she knew herself, “If Tommy doesn’t get punished for griefing George’s house soon, the walls will expand.”

Tubbo thought it over for a moment, “Let’s go to the courthouse.”

Once the group arrived, Tommy was put in a holding cell. Quackity was speaking to him. Y/n was sat next to Ranboo, they were both on edge. “Tommy, I’m on your side, but I have to be unbiased as possible. George, if you would like to explain what happened.”

“I’m just walking around the SMP and was told by someone who asked to remain anonymous that my home was burnt down, and I thought they were joking. So I asked them who did it, and the names I was given were Tommy, but there were two more. Y/n and Ranboo.” A series of gasps rang throughout the other members in the courthouse. Y/n immediately looked to the ground. She couldn’t defend Ranboo if they were both being sussed.

“Ranboo, Y/n, I’m gonna have to ask you to step into this cell here,” Tubbo ushered the two into the compact cell.

Y/n looked down at the lava. She whispered, “Anonymous my ass, it’s obviously Dream.”

“It probably is, but they aren’t completely sure we did it. As much as I hate saying it, they already know Tommy did it, nothing is gonna change their minds. We have to stay as innocent-looking as we can,” he definitely wasn’t lying, the two needed to stay as indifferent as they could.

“Tubbo please, listen to me, I have 4 witnesses, Captain Puffy, Nihachu, Ranboo, and Y/n, I was with them last night. Isn’t that right, Niki?” This idiot, it doesn’t help when two of his witnesses are prime suspects.

“I didn’t see Y/n,” Niki says. She was right, Y/n wasn’t there, but for reasons unrelated to the robbing.

“I, I felt really nauseous, so I was at Tommy’s house while Ranboo and him were helping you guys.”

“Right, Ranboo, shed some light on the situation please.” Tubbo’s monotone voice was intimidating Y/n a bit, he had always been the more cheery person in every group.

“Okay, umm, just be aware that I do have extremely bad short term memory loss.” Several people started talking at once but Y/n could only make out what Tubbo was saying.

“Okay, right, Tommy, the fact that he is struggling to remember is making your situation worse.” Fundy looked at Tubbo for approval to flick a lever, Y/n and Ranboo watched in horror as he pulled it down. “Tommy you have two strikes left, I need to hear your side and I need you to not yell.”

“It was the perfect crime.”

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled, surging forward slightly. Ranboo placed a hand on her shoulder, and she instantly relaxed, walking to the corner of the box-shaped room, sliding down the wall and resting her arms on her knees while Ranboo sat down carefully next to her. She was shocked, she didn’t think he would admit to it.

Fundy started recording everything Tommy said after that. “But hear me out Tubbo, he’s being biased against me, and Dream retaliating by building huge obsidian walls is absurd.”

“Tommy I have been advised to banish you,” Fundy flicked yet another lever, “But that is a very extreme measure and I hope it doesn’t have to come to that. So you’ll be put on probation. George, Tommy will be stripped of his power, and everything he does he will have to report directly to Fundy. Tommy as of now you are on probation, for the next two weeks.”

“Tubbo, this is insane!”

“It may be insane but I’m hoping this is conclusion is satisfying enough to get the walls tore down.”

“Well why are the walls even there in the first place? He can’t just build walls because I, me and- by myself I did a little prank,” Y/n looked up, her eyes strained. She turned to Ranboo relieved, Tommy didn’t slip up, he nearly did though. Ranboo must’ve put his sunglasses back on while she wasn’t looking.

“George is the king of the SMP, Tommy, this is considered treason,” Tubbo looked at Fundy and he nodded. Fundy put his hand on the last lever and pulled.

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled again, this time from anxiety. She knew very well what was under that glass, and so did Fundy, “Fundy why would you do that?!”

“Just felt like it.” he said in a snarky tone.

“How is he alive?” George asked. All Y/n saw was Quackity fall into the pit with Tommy and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Y/n don’t fucking laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, Big Q, from where I am right now, it was hilarious,” she looked over to see Ranboo laughing, his laugh sounded really nice. 

Quackity exited the box and Tommy followed, leaving the courthouse yelling, “Fuck you!”

“Mr. President, what are we do with Ranboo and Y/n?” Karl said.

Tommy came back immediately to say “No, no, listen, listen Tubbo, they weren’t there it was just me.”

“Those two weren’t there?”

“It was just me.”

Y/n and Ranboo were let out of the cell. Y/n let out a sign of gratitude, people were mistaken when they said Tommy was egotistical.

While walking back to L’manburg Tommy and Tubbo were arguing, and it broke Y/n’s heart, they were the best of friends before Tubbo became president. Maybe Techno was right, the government does corrupt. A cabient meeting was called in the middle of the walk to L’manburg. Tubbo called her over and she separated from Ranboo and Niki and joined Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy.

Y/n spaced out, staring at the ground until Dream showed up. “Tubbo. Probation isn’t enough.”

“Dream I know you suggested exile but-”

“That’s not enough! Tommy is Tommy, he’s never gonna stop, his goal is to piss me off, and if you want that, as somebody in your nation, even if he doesn’t have power, there aren’t that many members of L’manberg. And it’s fine, you guys wanna think about it, it’s fine. We can arrange a meeting to talk about what to do with him. Set a time, set a day, I’ll come.”

“Okay, how about the second, the second of December?”

Everyone agrees but Y/n stays silent. “Y/n?” Quackity asks.

“I’m sorry, being around my Dream is screwing with my head, I need to go.” Dream grabbed her wrist.

“Y/n, please.”

“No! I’m not gonna stay around to just to hear you manipulate Tubbo into doing what you want and me not being able to do anything, as per usual!”

She walked back to where Ranboo was, he immediately put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He glared at Dream, glad he was wearing glasses. “What happened Y/n?”

“My brother is extremely manipulative, just being around him confuses me. I can never tell if he agrees with me or is on my side or not. TLDR; Dream’s a piece of shit.”

Ranboo hummed in agreement. “You should probably go home, it’s getting dark, and you shouldn’t be around all this government stuff, you’ll get too stressed. Would you mind if I visited you tomorrow?”

“I’d like some company. It’s pretty lonely out there, Tubbo doesn’t come around often, he’ll probably show up even less with all this political bullshit.” He was slightly startled by the girls aggressiveness, but it was justified, and wasn’t directed towards him.

He walked her to the nether portal where they said their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow, loser,” she joked. Ranboo gasped dramatically, “Yeah, you heard right, loser.”

“You’re mean.”

“No no no, I’m sorry Ranboo it was joke!” She engulfed him in a hug. He was surprised, they had become kind of close but he was scared to assume she was comfortable with hugs. But when she did it, he was relieved.

“Bye, shorty,” He patted her on the head. She gave him the middle finger and stepped into the nether.

“Later, giraffe.”

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

Lmao I’m sorry for anyone who is over 5’5 I’m just salty I’m only 5’2

[marjansmarwani]

we won the cosmic lottery

2.1k || ao3

When Mya convinces Carlos to try speed dating on what would otherwise be a lonely Valentine’s Day, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster. Until a man who manages to light up his world with one look slides into the seat before him, that is. Suddenly he’s feeling a lot more optimistic.

Or, Tarlos Alternate First Meeting: Speed Dating Edition

I wrote fluff again and I am probably more surprised than you are. 

But I found this prompt from @madamewriterofwrongs in my inbox from several months ago and figured why not write a Valentine’s Day fic and try to stretch those fluff muscles again. Beta’d by @officereyes 💕 

-----------

As bad ideas went, Carlos was pretty sure this was one. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“What, you had other hot plans for Valentine’s Day?” Mya asked him, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him over her drink. 

“No,” Carlos admitted, “but that doesn’t mean this was the correct alternative.” 

“Why not? You’ll waste an hour of your life, talk to some people, come out with some good stories if nothing else. I think it sounds like the perfect alternative to spending the night home alone with Netflix.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he told her, tipping his glass to her before taking another drink.

“I have tried it Carlos, far too many times. You have too - that’s why we’re here.” 

“To get a look at Austin’s future serial killers?” 

Mya rolled her eyes at him before lightly smacking his arm with her clutch, “No, Officer Buzzkill. We’re here for a chance to maybe meet Mr. or Ms. Right.” 

Carlos twisted on his stool to survey the crowd gathered in the reserved section of the bar. He typically didn’t like to make assumptions without at least trying to get to know someone first, but he could honestly say that none of the men in the crowd even gave him the slightest glimmer of hope for the evening. He should have stayed home. 

He turned back to Mya with a dubious expression and she rolled her eyes again, “Lighten up Carlos, at the very least it can’t hurt.”

Carlos cast a glance back to one guy who was leering at him from the other side of the room and grimaced, “I’m not too sure about that.” 

His partner opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone grabbing a microphone and calling the crowd to attention. 

“Good evening lonely hearts!” the host said once the din of the crowd had died down. Carlos shot Mya a look but she ignored him. 

“We’re going to get started here in a few minutes,” the host continued, “but before we start moving I just wanted to go over the specifics. Upon checking in you were given a bracelet. These are to help with the logistics. If you received a red bracelet you will be taking a seat at any of the open tables. If you got a pink one you will be rotating between the tables.”

Carlos glanced down at his wrist to see a red bracelet sitting there. Mya held up her own wrist to show another red one, “Looks like we both get to have people come to us tonight.” 

Carlos chuckled at her before turning his attention back to the host, who was still explaining the rules. 

“When the bell dings, you will rotate to the table to your right. You will have 3 minutes with each potential suitor and when the bell rings, you will move to the next one. Make sure that you write down their number and check yes or no before you part on the card provided - that’s how we will be pairing you! At the end of the evening we will be comparing all the lists and you will receive a list of the names and contact info of any suitors you mutually matched with to the email provided. After that, the ball is in your court! So make sure you make the most of these three minutes; it could be the time you find your soulmate!” 

The room filled with polite clapping and Carlos turned again to Mya, “You can’t be serious.” 

“Lighten up Reyes,” she said with a wink, “you wouldn’t want to scare your potential soulmate away.” 

“Fine, I’ll ‘lighten up’. But if one of these creeps murders me to make a skin suit, I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts so your threats have no effect on me.” 

There were several more things he wanted to say to his partner, but he was interrupted by the sound of the host telling them all to head to their respective areas. As they went to stand up, Mya reached out to touch his arm, “it’s going to be fine Carlos, really. You’ve got this; try to have some fun for once.” 

Her tone and expression were much more gentle than before and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, “Thanks Mya,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Now go find Ms. Right.” 

She matched his smile and with a wave, she was gone. Carlos took another steady breath and headed to the guy’s section of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pulled the card out of his jacket pocket and picked up one of the pencils waiting on the table, twirling it through his fingers anxiously. And when the first contender of the night slid into the seat before him he forced on a warm smile and held out his hand in greeting. Mya was right, he had this. 

--------

7 dates later he was less sure he had this. 

They hadn’t all been creeps, per se (though numbers 2 and 6 definitely had been) but they also hadn’t done anything to elicit any kind of spark in Carlos. They had been nice enough and reasonably good looking, but Carlos had decided a long time ago that good enough wasn’t worth the effort. If he was going to try and make a go of something with someone, they had to be someone who made him feel something. It had to be worth the risk. 

He was contemplating his abysmal luck when the next guy slid into the chair across from him. Carlos looked up and all coherent thoughts fled his head. This guy was... gorgeous was the only word Carlos could come up with that did him justice. Everything about him was perfect and Carlos couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He eventually noticed the extended hand in what he sincerely hoped was a normal amount of time and took it, still studying him as he blurted out the first thought that came to mind: “I didn’t see you here before.” 

He definitely hadn’t been here when things were starting, Carlos would have noticed him in a crowd, he was absolutely sure about that. The other man smiled sheepishly, “yeah, I got here a bit late. I was trying to convince myself to actually come. My friends had to practically push me in the door.” 

Carlos chuckled, “My friend had to pretty much drag me here with her. Are your friends here?” 

“They’re at a bar down the street for ‘moral support’,” he responded with an eye roll, but a fond expression. 

“That’s so helpful.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

They both laughed again before Carlos suddenly realized they had yet to even exchange names, “I’m Carlos, by the way.” 

“TK, nice to meet you.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Does it stand for something?” 

TK grinned at him coyly, “It does, but that’s at least a level 4 backstory, and we’re barely at level one.” 

Carlos grinned back, feeling the quip come easily despite the butterflies definitely fluttering in his stomach, “Well, we’ve got some time to work on that. Personally though I recommend we skip over levels 1 and 2, those are mundane at best.” 

TK’s green eyes lit up as he laughed. The sound sent a shock through Carlos’s entire body and in that moment, Carlos decided he had been wrong. He owed Mya an apology: this had been an excellent idea after all. 

-----

His three minutes with TK had not been nearly long enough. When the bell had dinged he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so absorbed in their conversation he hadn't noticed the passage of time. It felt like they had been talking all night, but also as if they had barely begun to talk at all. 

TK gave him an apologetic smile as he stood from his chair, “I guess that’s my cue. It was really nice talking to you though, Carlos.”

“Yeah, you too,” he responded. He hesitated for a moment as he studied the other man. In only three minutes he had felt more of a connection with TK than he had with people he had dated for weeks. Maybe it was that they were both first responders, maybe it was something else, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. So many things were mysteries, but Carlos knew one thing for sure: if he let TK walk away from him tonight, he might just end up regretting it for the rest of his life. 

“Would you maybe like to catch up when we’re done here? Maybe get a drink, talk some more?” 

TK paused mid-stride, raising an eyebrow, “You still have two more dates left, how do you know you won’t want to spend the evening with them instead?” 

“Call it intuition.” 

He could call it intuition or blind hope or desperation if he wanted, Carlos really didn’t care. He just knew in his gut that it was right, that TK was someone he needed to get to know more. TK was still considering him, and Carlos anxiously awaited his verdict. This was so far outside of his comfort zone and he was pretty sure that if TK turned him down he was going to head back to his condo tonight and not leave for at least two days, too buried in embarrassment and shame to face the outside world. But this felt worth the risk; he just hoped he hadn’t read these feelings wrong. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime passing in the moment of a breath, TK smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, “I guess bachelors 9 and 10 are out of luck for both of us then.” 

“Try to let them down easy.” 

TK laughed again, squeezing his shoulder as he walked away, “As long as you promise to do the same—getting turned down by you would be a tough pill to swallow, Carlos. Try to break their hearts gently.”  

-------

Carlos was still feeling the euphoria of TK’s smile 10 minutes later when a figure slid into the seat next to him at the bar. He turned eagerly, ready to see TK’s eyes again and felt disappointment, followed by instant guilt, when it wasn’t TK but Mya occupying the seat next to him. 

“Well that was a waste of time,” she declared as she slumped forward onto the bar, “you were right. I shouldn’t have dragged you here, I’m sorry. Wanna go get tacos at that truck you love to drown our sorrows?” 

“Actually,” Carlos began, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone calling his same from behind them. They turned in tandem and Carlos felt his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of TK, who was looking between him and Mya. 

“Hey Carlos, I just wanted to see if you were ready for that drink yet. If you’re not we can...” 

Mya interrupted before TK could finish his sentence, “I was just leaving, actually. I’m Mya, by the way—Carlos’s partner and friend.” 

TK turned his gorgeous smile on her and held out a hand, “TK Strand, nice to meet you.” 

“TK’s a firefighter,” Carlos told Mya, biting back a smile as she raised an eyebrow and TK nodded, “I’m with the 126.”

“Well, TK Strand with the 126, take good care of my partner here. He’s pretty special.” 

“I’ve already gotten that feeling,” TK agreed, giving Carlos another grin that he felt straight through to his soul. 

Mya smirked as she stood from her seat, looking between them as she pulled out her keys, “I’d say have a good rest of the night, but I think that’s already a given. I’ll see you on Monday Carlos, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” 

Mya shrugged as she started to walk away, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

“Text me when you get home!” he called after her. 

“Yes mom!” she called back as she reached the door. Before she opened it to head out into the Austin night she turned one more time and shot him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nodded. Then she was gone and he turned all of his attention to the man beside him. He was grinning too and Carlos was starting to get the feeling that he might never get used to the things that smile did to him.  

TK slid into Mya’s abandoned seat and leaned closer to him, “So where do we start?” 

Carlos smiled back and waved down the bartender to get drinks for them. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he had a feeling wherever it was would be the beginning of something great. He turned and caught TK’s eyes again, savoring the warmth that emanated from them. 

Tonight may have started out feeling like a mistake, but he was starting to think it may have actually been more like fate. 

[alittleimagine]

just a favor pt. 1

derek hale x reader 

prologue

Derek looked tense. You understood why- it wasn’t every day a person brought a fake significant other for a holiday dinner with their parents- but, it simply wouldn’t do. 

You had this. You were going to be the best fake girlfriend the Hales had ever seen. Hell, if Derek’s purported terrible taste in women was true then you were likely to be the best girlfriend they’d ever seen fake or otherwise. 

Now you just had to make Derek believe it. 

You jotted down ‘basketball fans’ in your notebook and tapped the pen to your lips. “We should probably discuss any pet names.” You said. Your natural inclination was to watch him until his ears turned pink again, but he already looked ready to lose it at any moment and that was the opposite of your goal this time around. Instead, you kept your eyes on your paper, even if you watched him from the periphery. 

When you’d met with him days ago to start getting details together it was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. That was fine, you had plenty of experience with fanfiction and Hallmark movies.

From the corner of your eye you could see Derek glance your way. He didn’t look alarmed, per se, but he was far from relaxed. 

“Pet names?”

“Yeah. You know- honey, babe, snookums?” There was no way in hell you would ever seriously call Derek snookums, but if calling him things like Sugar Butt or Honey Bunches made his ears turn that pretty shade of pink you would have some fun with it. “If we’re going to use any kind of nickname we want to get in the habit so it sounds normal and not weird.” 

You angled yourself toward him, dropping the pretense of reading the same five lines on your notebook. 

He furrowed his brow, looking deep in thought. “I don’t know. Jennifer hated pet names.”

Jennifer. Hated enough that even sweet Kira had ranted and raved for weeks after she dumped Derek. If this was going to work, you thought, he could not talk about her. 

“Okay. New rule number one. If you want your family to believe you are over your heinous ex, it’s best not to mention her.” You said. “As far as you’re concerned any mention of Jennifer should prompt a ‘Jennifer who?’ in your mind. New girlfriends don’t like the mention of old girlfriends.”

He winced. “You’re right.”

“Also, screw whatever Jennifer liked or didn’t like. I’m asking 

Derek Hale, what you’re comfortable with.”

For a moment he said nothing, then nodded resolutely. There was the slightest loosening of his shoulders and you smiled to yourself. 

“You can call me whatever. Except snookums.” He added in a rush. 

You snorted. 

“I don’t know what I’ll call you though. It might just be Y/N.” 

“That’s fine. Go with whatever feels normal. I’m probably going to call you babe. Or Derek. Or D- you can blame Stiles for that one. Who knows.” You shrugged. Without thinking about it, you wrote ‘babe’ onto a separate line of the notebook. 

“Are you really taking notes?” The car slowed as you pulled up to a light and Derek took the opportunity to look over at the little blue and gold journal you’d been fiddling with for most of the car ride. 

“Not quite,” you said, unsure how to properly explain it, “I’m never going to review the notes or study them. But, jotting things down just helps me organize my thoughts and remember things. We’re planning a classic fake dating holiday shenanigan here- you want me on my A-game.”

“I can’t believe you even agreed to this.” He muttered as he started driving again. 

Malia and Kira had not been surprised at all when you’d told them. Kira had spit out her apple cider when you barged into the coffee shop you’d planned to meet them at and declared that you were now dating Malia’s cousin (Kira never failed to give you a good reaction), but after hearing the rest there had only been knowing nods. 

When you’d moved to Beacon Hills Derek had been almost a year into the ill-fated relationship with Jennifer. You’d been introduced to both of them at the same time by Stiles and Jennifer had seemed like a perfectly friendly person, but the face Stiles made when they turned their backs had been plenty indication that she was not the most well-loved. 

You never spent any time with Jennifer directly. As you began to fold more and more into the close circle of friends you noted that she never went to movie night and she never joined the girls for sushi. Lydia had insisted that they’d tried to be nice and include her in the beginning, but that hadn’t lasted long.

“There was pretty much zero chance I would turn this down.” 

The truth was Derek was a babe and so much your type it was almost painful, but you’d always assumed he didn’t like you very much. When he’d asked you to fake date him you’d figured either he didn’t dislike you as much as you’d thought or he was really desperate. Either way, you couldn’t say no.

“Because you’re a little crazy?” 

You flicked his arm with your pen. “Never mind, rule number one is don’t ever call your girlfriend crazy. Don’t call any woman crazy just to be safe.” You said.

“Noted.” He looked like he was trying not to smile and that was reassuring. “But, really, why would you say yes to a Thanksgiving pretending you’re my girlfriend in front of mostly strangers?” 

You shrugged. “How often does an opportunity like that come up?” He didn’t need to know that you wanted to become friends and that it wasn’t hard to pretend to be head over heels for him. “Besides, you looked really desperate. Who was your next option? Stiles in a dress?”

The image flashed in your head the moment you said it. 

“I should have said no. That would have been hilarious.”

“If you’d said no I would have had to fake some terrible accident.” 

You snorted. “And they say I’m dramatic.” You tapped your pen to the paper and wracked your brain for anything you might have missed. “Okay, let’s walk through it.” You said as you turned in the car seat to face him.

“Kira and Malia will arrive tomorrow morning, and they are prepared with our basic story. Which is as simple as possible. The more detail you give unprompted, the easier it is to spot a lie. I got to town, thought you were way hot,” Derek flushed and you added another mark to your mental tally, “but you were with Jennifer. You guys broke up, you got over it, we were hanging out with everyone else, you realized I am also way hot, we got together. Simple.” 

Derek, blush slowly fading, nodded again. “And if they ask for details we tell them about running into each other a couple of times on our own. At the pizza place first. Then the coffee shop the next time. And talked.” He said it like he was still trying to memorize every detail.

“I kissed you first. And tada, we’ve been together since then.” 

You’d kept it all simple and common on purpose. No one questioned such an every-day story. Both of Derek’s sisters had been to Beacon Hills to visit him since you’d moved to town so there were restrictions to keep in mind as well. 

A thought struck you. “Hey, pull over into the next gas station.”

Derek glanced at you quickly. “You need something?” He asked, already flicking the turn signal on. 

“Park to the side.” You said, then waited until he’d pulled all the way into a parking spot to unbuckle your seatbelt. You looked at him very seriously. 

The crease in his brow deepened. “Is everything okay?” Hesitantly he turned his body to face you. 

“We need to kiss.” 

“What?” Forget his ears and neck, you were sure Derek was red to the tips of his toes. He gaped at you and looked around the car once as though some invisible passenger had more information. 

“Relax. Breathe.” You had discussed physical contact days ago. He knew to expect casual touching from you and cheek kisses were a given. He knew that there was a chance you’d have to kiss-kiss because, as you’d said, ‘assuming we won’t is a surefire way to have a kiss demanded’. “I’m not talking making out, heavy tongue action, getting steamy in the 7-11 parking lot.”

He ran a hand over his face. 

“But, chances are the occasion for us to kiss will come up. I don’t know about you but I don’t typically make out in front of my mom, but kissing on the lips seems pretty standard.” When he nodded you went on. “So we should probably not have the first time we kiss be at that awkward moment. No one will believe us if we can’t even find each other’s lips.” 

Derek leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath. “You’re right.” He said. 

“I know. I usually am.” 

He rolled his eyes but it seemed like the casual arrogance was doing something to relax him. He sat up straight and turned to you again. “Let’s do this then.”

You adjusted in the seat, folding a leg under you and leaning forward. You expected Derek to be hesitant like he’d been about every other step of the way, but he seemed resolute when he reached forward to wrap his hand around the base of your skull and pull you in.

The kiss was chaste- nothing but a warm press of his lips to yours, but the heat of his hand against your neck was extremely distracting. 

You pulled back first, schooling your expression into something you hoped read amused and not like you wanted to give that another shot. 

Derek quickly sat back into his seat. His face gave nothing away, but you thought you could see pink crawling up his neck.

The place where his hand had been only a moment ago now felt cold. Unconsciously your hand moved to cover the spot while you leaned back in your seat and buckled up. “There.” You said. Your voice was steady and casual. “Now that that’s done, we can keep going.”

Derek cleared his throat and glanced your way before he buckled his seatbelt and pulled out of the parking spot. 

There was a tension in the car that you hadn’t felt before the practice kiss. It could not be allowed to continue. 

You reached down to pick your notebook back up. You clicked the pen open and tapped it against your bottom lip. “So, let’s be honest, which of your sisters is going to want to embarass you most?”

Derek groaned. 

[thelovelyghostwriter]

Neon Nostrade ABC NS/FW Headcanons

Okay. I’m gonna do this for our baby girl because well, she has a different set of kinks altogether. 

By the way, I will be referring to KuroNeon and KuroNeon when I’m doing this headcanon. 

Rated R Warning: Lots of vulgar terms. Don't like don't read. Don't go inside a cave and complain it's dark. I will block anyone who complains.

Let’s go for the ABC Headcanons of this brat: 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s two moods: either really drowsy after a good fuck or talkative. If she’s worn out good, she will be very sleepy and just want to lie on her partner’s chest. 

If she still has energy left, she likes to have a pillow talk with her partner. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Girlie is proud of her curves and face. She knows she’s cute and she has the curves. She’s not afraid to dress up for her man and drive them absolutely crazy. 

She likes her partner’s biceps and back. She likes to scratch and caress them when they are in a missionary position. 

If she's with Kurapika and knows his Kurta identity, she worships his eyes (kinda fucked up but yes!). She likes how it turns scarlet because of his deep intense lust (and maybe hatred) while they’re having sex. She finds it alluring, like a moth to a flame. For Chrollo, it's his spider tattoo.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This girl swallows. Nuff’ said. She likes to be milked too. She's submissive and breedable.

She also likes having her partner's fingers stuffed into her mouth after they finger her. A little taste on how wet she is. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She has a bunch of lingerie shoots that doesn’t show her face. She then post it on OnlyFans to gain extra income. Just lingerie pics because she enjoys modelling for it. However, she won't show her pussy or boobs. Those are VIP access only.

She also fucks her new head bodyguard aka Kurapika and had a one time fling with Chrollo. Papa must never know this.

Good girls are just bad girls who haven't been caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not so much. She isn't a virgin per se (really think one of her clients or Chrollo took her virginity), but she also hasn't gotten around much due to her father having people to guard her 24/7. She usually doesn’t take the lead so most of the time she just goes with the flow. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything to do with her partner dominating her. Girlie likes to get dicked down hard. So think of missionary, doggy and all sorts of variations that goes deep.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She is very childish and teasing alright. She's not serious about it. To her, sex is for fun. She wants to enjoy it. She giggles a lot whenever she gets a pleasant reaction from her partner.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah. She goes to those high-end bikini waxing services to get her pussy groomed once ever three months. She may show her lingerie to others but she only shows her lady parts to someone special and she has to make herself look presentable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Uhhh... she is playful. She usually relies on the non-sexual dating part that her partner does for the romance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This girl likes to read smuts or listen to audios to get herself wet. If she really wants to get down on it, she uses a good ol' vibrator to buzz herself. She has to do it in a room though, where no one is around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

*clears throat* This girl makes the best porn to write LMAO. I can think of a few kinks when it comes to her (and her r/s with Chrollo or Kurapika).

With Kurapika:

Discipline and Bondage: Her bratty attitude pisses off his stern no-bullshit personality. Sometimes she does it on purpose to egg him to punish and fuck her. She secretly enjoys it when he spanks her, be it using his hand or his belt. She realises that he might be into bondage based on the chains on his hand so she suggested tying her up. They used ropes, clothes, handcuffs and of course (actual, not his Nen) chains. He sometimes chains her up Shibari style and likes to see her pussy drool over the chains. This starts whenever she acts up, throws a tantrum and Kurapika has to deal with her bs. It's not easy disciplining this naughty brat but he likes the challenge until she's an obedient brat begging to be his cumslut. When she's being a good girl, he'll reward her with a good fucking and another present (e.g. jewellery or handbag or whatever she wants).

Degrading and Humiliation: This comes with the disciplining part. Whenever he disciplines her, it comes with degrading her. Neon loves to be called all sorts of degrading terms: slut, whore, brat. He's usually very uptight so it turns her on when he gets vulgar during sex. It gets even more intense when it's hate-fucking. He's supposed to dislike flesh collectors but here he is enjoying the flesh of a pretty collector, and so they engage in hate-sex filled with degrading her and Neon loves every filthy second of it.

Breeding: Yes, I know I said Kurapika ain't gonna want kids, based on my analysis of him and it makes sense. Only after he accidentally knocks her up, then he'll realise "hey, this ain't bad". So when Kurapika realises that perhaps repopulating the clan isn't that bad, Neon is more than happy to produce kids with him and be the freakin Kurta baby factory. The whole baby-making process is fun, they will make sure they won't waste a single cum drop. Neon also loves to address Kurapika as "Daddy" because she knows it makes him feel powerful and it represents fathering her children. Sorry Light Nostrade, Neon has another daddy now.

With Chrollo:

DD/LG: Their age gap and height difference screams sugar dating. He loves to indulge in her materialism and spoils her like a brat she is (he just steals those items and gives it to her). Chrollo is one freaky mf who calls her princess, kitten, baby girl and all sorts of really cute nicknames. Chrollo isn't like Kurapika who would degrade her. He likes to praise his little sex bunny because positive reinforcement works. He wants her to dress up in all those frizzy lingerie costumes and roleplay in DD/LG.

Toys: [See the T for Toys for this one]

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One word: power. 

That is in the form of money and dominance in her partner. She loves it when they give her what she wants materially, be it that nice taxidermy butterfly necklace or that designer brand clothes and accessories. She doesn't care how you get it, but if you give it to her, she's sure to reward you.

Another thing that for sure turns them on is being dominated. Be it with Kurapika, Chrollo or anyone else, Neon loves to be dominated and fucked. Hold her by the neck. Let her know who is in charge. Make her beg to be fucked. A little possessive dirty talk will get her wet. Anything to do with establishing ownership of her.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Neon likes having sex in the bedroom or in the guy's office. She likes to disturb her partner while he's working so they end up doing it in the office. Or some luxurious hotel. A bathtub will be good too.

There's a very specific location I want to write her having sex with Kurapika. A location so messed up yet so angsty but I will keep quiet about it for now. You would need to be one creative sicko like me to guess this one. Heh. 😶😶

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A big no is her being 100% dom. Neon is kinda lazy in that aspect. She doesn't like to do all the work and wants the pleasure/pain handed to her. At most, she'll ride the guy while she's on top but she's going to be a real tease about it, hoping that they would get impatient and flip her over. When they do, she'll be more excited because that's what baby girl wants.

Stuff like pee or anything to do with that is something that she'll never do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She likes to have her pussy eaten out of course. And how they make her come through oral sex. However, she prefers to give SLIGHTLY more. Just slightly. She likes to get her hair grabbed and face-fucked. Sometimes she engages in cock worship.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually, she says things like "fuck me harder", "don't stop" etc. to encourage getting fucked at a faster and rougher pace. Especially when they hit her G-spot. That sends her crazy. She does appreciate the slow and sensual but only at the beginning or near the end. Depending on the context of the sex session.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah. She likes quickies. This has something to do with disturbing and teasing her partner while he's at work. Yes, I'm talking about Kurapika. So a little quickie just for him to relax and catch a break is Neon's favour for him for working so hard.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. She's game on taking risks. She's actually the one who will initiate and explore with kinks she finds on the net. Heck, she once proposed getting fucked against the window and in the balcony, risking the fact that someone might see them (Papa absolutely must never know what his daughter has been doing). The fear and thrill of getting caught arouses her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think at most two rounds. The sex can be really intense and this girl lacks stamina. She didn't go through formal Nen training (remember that she got hers without training), and her partners are Nen users and physically fit so they wear her out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns them alright. She uses a vibe to pleasure herself. It comes in handy when she gets horny during ovulation and there's no one to dick her down.

As for using them with a partner, she uses a lot of toys with Chrollo. Whether it's the anal beads when Chrollo wants to get her ass fucked while he rams the front or making her wear vibrating panties in public, she's sure down for it. She also will wear a tail butt plug to complement her kitty outfit that Chrollo instructed her to wear. She'd gladly follow whatever freaky fantasy he wants.

With Kurapika, they don't use toys except for bondage items. If Neon were to sleep with a woman, she'll prefer to get fucked with a strap on.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Neon is the queen of teases. Especially if her lover seems uptight. (Yes, Pika boy, that's you).

She'll randomly sends him nudes while he's working. She'll touch his lap/balls lightly when they're eating side by side. She'll say stuff that sounds suggestive in inappropriate timings. She'll wink. She'll roll her tongue while eating and making eye contact. Just to initiate sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Neon has a high-pitched voice. She's very vocal during sex. She can't help it. Honestly, she sounds like those girls in hentai porn but more genuine lmaoo. She'll moan, squeal, whine, squeak and pant with the occasional "yes", "fuck me", "harder" and all the short needy dirty talk to push them to do her rougher.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She likes to shop for her outfits. It excites her thinking what type of kinky outfit she should buy to make her partner horny. Be it another lacy lingerie, bunny outfit, kitty outfit, she'll be sure to look delectable in her man's eyes.

She looks REAL good in pink or white. Most of her outfits are in that colour. 💖💖

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Neon has a B cup. She doesn't have those giant breasticles like Pakunoda or Shizuku. But that's understandable. I once estimated her height based on Chrollo's height and the manga panel where her head is at his shoulder. She's about 150cm, maybe even shorter. She's a petite girl. She has curves in proportion (she's not a loli, she's just small in height). But that's her charm. She's cute. Easily carried to be fucked.

Side note: The height difference between her and Kurapika (171cm)/Chrollo (177cm) is so good in this aspect (if you guys know what I mean) hehehe kekekek.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hmm... I think Neon is mid. She does likes sex but she isn't a sex addict. She gets in the mood easily, especially when she's horny during ovulation. She won't be in the mood when she's angry or upset at not getting what she wants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She's exhausted after it happens. Definitely be sleeping like a baby. She'll lay on her partner's chest and doze off comfortably. If she still has the energy, she'll demand for round two or just pillow talk. Chatter her way until she falls asleep.

To end it off, I would like to give you guys some links to fanart where Neon is being hot, art by @anotherworldash :

Cat Outfit

Cat Outfit with Buttplug

Bunny Outfit Regina George reference

Neon in Shibari ropes

Chrollo and Neon

Kurapika and Neon

Neon sucking Kurapika off [Yes, you read this right]

Neon in pink lingerie

[wrenhyperfixates]

No Cause For Alarm

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki blames himself when you get hurt on a mission. Thor is convinced that the only way to ease his guilt is for him to confess his feelings for you, so he and Peter hatch a plan to get Loki to do just that. Warnings: none I think; a little angst but mainly fluff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki paced in the waiting area of the hospital wing, anxiously awaiting when the doctor would come out with some information on you. His heart was pounding in his chest, living in the moment of the accident. You’d been on a mission together, supposedly just for reconnaissance, but before long you had to engage in combat. Not that you hadn’t been prepared for things to go that way, per se; it was just overwhelming. Naturally, anytime one spends in the field should be trademarked by a preparedness for things to go south. It's just that your intel had been off, or else the enemy agents had been alerted you were coming. There was supposed to be five guys, max, and only two of them there for muscle. Instead, you were met with nearly thirty burly men, all armed with guns. Though you could protect yourself, you were terribly outnumbered. Loki had done his best to protect you against the impossible odds, but he had failed. And now you were hurt.

“How are they?” he asked as soon as the doctor appeared, fear creeping into his voice.

“They’re going to be fine. The left leg is broken,” they replied, showing Loki the x-ray. “It should heal in about two months.”

“With checkups, of course? To make sure it’s healing properly?” Loki questioned, concerned for your recovery, not even realizing how much he was overreacting.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, the Tower is fully handicap-accessible, so you don’t need to worry about them getting around.”

“Good. May I go in and see them?”

The doctor gave him the all clear and pointed in the direction of your room. He hesitated a second before knocking on the door, afraid you’d be angry or disappointed with him. Currently, he felt both of those things toward himself, and he certainly deserved that and much worse after what happened to you.

“Come in,” you called, voice muffled by the door.

“Hello,” he said in a soft voice after slowly pushing open the door. “I am certain I am the last person you want to see right now, but I have to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Loki,” you laughed, an amused smile making its way on your face, though you were trying hard to suppress it. “Cut the doom and gloom. I’m fine, it’s just a broken leg. I’ve been through worse.”

“That may very well be, but this is my fault.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t do that to yourself,” you argued, more distressed by his emotional conflict than your physical pain. “This was the fault of those Hydra agents, whose, I might add, asses we absolutely whooped!”

Loki couldn’t understand your upbeat attitude, but it gave him enough courage to go to your bedside rather than lurking by the door. He knelt down next to you and rested his head on the bed. You played with his hair as you waited for him to say that he forgives himself, ready to reassure him again that it wasn’t his fault. The way you were methodically braiding and unbraiding a few locks of his hair helped him focus on calming down.

“I should have protected you,” he whispered, unable to let the notion go.

“But you did protect me, Loki,” you responded gently, cupping his face. “You did.”

“Ok,” he said after a shaky breath. “If that is what you truly believe, then I will drop it.”

Though he relented, you could still see the remorse in his eyes. He knew you didn’t want him tearing himself apart over this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Good,” was all you whispered, not wanting to upset either of you any further.

Loki opened his mouth to say something else to you, but it was drowned out by Thor’s thundering voice as he burst into the room. Peter followed behind him and they were both carrying balloons and other get-well gifts for you.

“Greetings!” Thor boomed. “How are you feeling?”

Loki hurriedly stood up, not wanting to be caught in this intimate moment with you, regardless of the fact that his brother already knew how he felt. He’d done his best to hide it, but the God of Thunder noticed his longing glances sent your way. According to Thor, you felt the same way, but it was just based on observations he made. Without verbal confirmation from you, Loki would never believe it. After all, why would you like him of all people?

“Pretty good, all things considered,” you answered, shifting your position as much as you could.

“Make sure you take it easy, though,” Peter cautioned, knowing how hyper-active you could be. “You don't want to hurt it more.”

“I know, I know. Jeez, you all need to lighten up.”

You continued to talk with your new visitors and Loki snuck away as to avoid the bright atmosphere that clashed with his gloomy one. Thor noticed and followed him out, stopping him in the hall.

“Brother,” he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, “what is the matter?”

“They will not admit it, but it is my fault that they are injured.”

“I have already read the mission report, and that is not what happened. You are just thinking this way because of your feelings for them.”

“Don’t patronize me, brother,” he said, jerking away. “You were not there. You do not know what happened.”

“Perhaps if you confessed your feelings, this guilt could clear up.”

“Enough, Thor. Please. Leave me alone.”

Loki stalked off to his room to brood in silence. How could everyone else be so flippant toward such a grave matter? Though, he supposed he did do everything in his power to keep you safe. Still, it wasn’t enough. He resolved to make it up to you any way you would allow. Later, he would go back to your room to take care of you, but right now he knew the best thing to do was stay away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little over a week later, Loki was still doting on you, though you had almost convinced him that your current predicament was not his fault in the slightest.  To be honest, you were a little overwhelmed by the attention he was giving you and wished he’d ease up a little.

“Honestly, Loki, don’t worry. I can handle it,” you chided when he put his arms out as if to catch you when you’d barely even stumbled. “I have the hang of it.”

“I am sure that you do, but one can never be too careful,” Loki scolded right back.

Both of you glared at each other for a minute before laughing. You knew he meant well, and he was doing his best to relax a little, so you shrugged it off.

“I guess you’re right. And, it’s nice to know that if I do fall, you’ll be there to catch me.”

Then you took the weight off your crutches and tipped toward him. Immediately, his arms shot back out and encompassed your body, pressing you to his strong chest. You relaxed against him as he hugged your frame tightly.

Meanwhile, across the room, Thor was watching the scene with sorrow. He was about ready to punch a wall when you laughed at something his brother whispered in your ear. It frustrated him to no end that Loki would not admit how he truly felt. For the love of all things good, you could not have more obviously returned his affections.

“Mr. Thor, are you ok?” Peter asked, wondering why the blonde god was standing off to the side, clenching his fists and muttering to himself.

“No. Can you keep a secret, spiderchild?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, wide-eyed.

“See, it is about Loki,” Thor whispered, leaning in conspiratorially and nodding toward where he was standing with you. “Look over there. They are in love, but they will not admit it!”

“Well, what if we created a situation that brings them so close together, they have to?”

“An intriguing idea. But what situation would that be?”

Peter started racking his brain, casually leaning back to rest against the wall. The only problem was he misjudged the distance and ended up flailing for something to grab onto as he fell back. Thor went to help him, but moved too late, and Peter somehow managed to pull the fire alarm.

“Spiderchild you’re a genius!” Thor shouted over the blaring siren.

“Oh, yeah. I meant to do that,” Peter said with a nervous laugh.

Knowing there was no real danger, the pair stayed and watched as Loki scooped you up in his arms and took off towards the nearest exit. They followed him down the levels of the Tower, eventually being met with a mob of people trying to flee the building. About halfway down, Loki teleported to safety with you, nervous that there would be too many people to get you out in time. By the time Peter and Thor stepped outside, the alarms had been shut off and Tony was talking to you and Loki.

“Are you sure there’s no danger?” they heard you inquire as they neared the spot where you were standing.

“No fires detected,” F.R.I.D.A.Y responded through the tablet in Tony’s hand.

“No malfunctions either. Someone tripped it manually,” Tony added, pointing at the offending alarm on the system map he was looking at.

Thor and Peter halted their progress toward you, and began to turn around. Not before Loki had spotted them, though.

“Were not the two of you standing by this location?” he asked as everyone else was told it was safe to return to the building.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Peter faked, thinking quick. “That’s kind of a confusing map.”

Thor agreed with Peter and, when it was obvious they weren’t going to say anything else, Loki magicked the group back up to the spot where they had been. After setting you on a chair for a second, he went to retrieve your crutches, which you had abandoned during your escape.

“Oh, this alarm,” Peter said in his best shocked tone. “I guess we may have been in the general vicinity.”

“Yes, it really was very hard to tell on that tablet,” Thor added.

“Honestly tell me, did you guys set it off?” Tony interrogated them, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to know for safety reasons.”

“Yes,” they sighed, finally telling the truth.

“But it was by accident,” Peter added. “Kind of.”

“What do you mean ‘kind of’ spiderling?” Loki asked with growing suspicion.

And then Thor realized that the only situation that would make them own up to their feelings was to call them out on it. So, he told the story of how he and Peter were scheming and ended up triggering the alarm. Tony walked away, muttering about how he was the only sane one in the whole Tower. Loki, on the other hand, was partly furious, partly amused. You, however, were mainly just the latter.

“Listen, it’s a sweet gesture, but an unnecessary one,” you told them.

“It is true. You see, I have already confessed my love.”

Peter happily gasped and started clapping his hands while Thor’s jaw dropped. He stood there for a minute before Loki’s words sank in. Once the surprise wore off, he grabbed Loki in a bear-hug, then gave you a considerably gentler one, being mindful of your injury.

“This is wonderful news, brother! But why did you not tell me?” he asked with sad puppy-dog eyes.

“It is a recent development.”

“Yeah. We were going to tell everyone at dinner tomorrow,” you contributed.

“See Mr. Thor, it’s all good. And now we can celebrate.”

“Indeed! We can have a party tonight,” Thor excitedly said, already making preparations in his mind.

“Not so fast, Thor,” Loki interjected. “It is lovely that we are all happy, yes, but you must stop meddling in my personal life.”

Then he scooped you up and swept you away from the room before Thor had the chance to argue. He should have stuck around, though, because there was no one to stop Thor from beginning to plan your wedding.

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Nice Nat (Ficmas #9)

Aight, welcome back my dudes! Okay so this is my first O’darwin (I think... wow I can’t even remember but I’m pretty sure it’s my first... anyways) so I hope it’s alright. This is not the direction I saw it going in, but someone mentioned something along the lines of this fic once and it stuck in my head since. I’ll definitely be doing more of them though so I’ll have some more... idk lively I suppose is the word? Yeah, lively content. 

Credit for characters and their world to @lumosinlove

CW: This is centred around Natalie on her period. There’s nothing graphic, there’s not even details of symptoms other than tiredness but it is the central theme 💕

Natalie sighed, turning the key in the lock, her handbag slipping off her shoulder awkwardly as the door swung open.

“Hey guys,” She called to the empty hallway, kicking off her shoes. “I’m home.”

She wandered to the kitchen, tossing her bag on a chair and grabbed herself a painkiller and a glass of water. She had gotten her period unexpectedly at work and her day just hadn’t been great. Nothing had been wrong per se, but she was just tired and a little too world weary to deal with many people.

“Babe?” She called, wandering through the house. Both of their cars had been there and their shoes were still at the door, so where were they?

“Kase? Al? Anyone home?” 

She found them in their home theatre, the walls were soundproofed so there was no wonder no one had heard her. She opened the door to see Alex straddling Kasey, the pair in a full on make out session teenagers would be proud of. Any other day, Natalie would probably have gone and joined in. Or at least have watched. Today though, she just wasn’t feeling it.

“Well would you look at what we have here.” She drawled, raising an eyebrow. 

The two boys pulled apart, looking over at her immediately, red lipped and panting.

“Hey baby.” They both said at the same time, making Natalie smile. “Wanna come join?” Alex asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Natalie rolled her eyes smiling, but shook her head. “Nah, I’m not really in the mood right now but you two go ahead. I’m gonna change my clothes and just watch a movie in bed maybe.”

Alex frowned, sliding off Kasey’s lap. Kasey’s face didn’t change, but Natalie could see the cogs turning in his mind. He held out his arms, “Want a hug?”

Natalie huffed a laugh even as she crossed the few steps between them, taking Alex’s spot on Kasey’s lap as she rested her head on his shoulder, Alex pulling her feet onto his thighs, stroking her calves soothingly.

“Sorry guys, I’m not trying to bring down your vibe.”

Alex looked at her like she was crazy. “What? Nat don’t be dumb, we’ve been waiting for you to come home, we just want to be with you.”

“Unless you want to be by yourself for a while.” Kasey added, kissing her hair. “That’s okay too.”

Natalie’s heart fluttered a little at how perfect they both were. “No, no I wanna be with you guys.” She said, burning her face in Kasey’s chest for a moment. He was wearing Alex’s shirt and she could breathe them both in. 

“Okay I’m gonna go get changed.” She mumbled, pulling herself reluctantly away from their warmth, but desperately needing to get out of her constricting jeans and into sweatpants.

“Alright darling, we’ll see you in a minute.” Kasey murmured softly, letting her slip out of his arms and pad upstairs. Natalie smiled as she got changed, wearing Kasey’s pants and Alex’s hoodie, letting both her boys surround her. She heard them both coming up the stairs and hid her amusement at their attempt to be quiet. Try as they might, they were also two full grown hockey players and silence wasn’t always their strongest point. But they were trying and that was all that mattered.

“Hiya,” Alex greeted softly as he pushed the door open, peeking his head in. “You still good with us joining?”

Natalie chuckled a little. “Yeah, guys I love you and I love this, but I’m just tired, not a delicate little doll. Now get in here and cuddle me please.”

The pair came into the room, both armed with supplies. Natalie laughed when she saw many of the items came from the list she had given both of them respectively when they had started dating. She called it the ‘Nice Nat’ list and contained all the tips and tricks of what she liked on her period. 

“You remembered.” She chuckled, mostly to Alex, Kasey was quite experienced with the whole situation.

“How could I forget?” Alex said, setting a mug of tea and a bar of chocolate on the night stand. “You marched up to me and instructed that once a month you were gonna need some TLC and if I couldn't deal with that then I shouldn’t bother being in this relationship in the first place.” He raised an eyebrow and met Natalie’s gaze. “That’s not something you forget very soon.”

Natalie giggled a little as Kasey slid onto the bed next to her, passing her a hot water bottle and Leaning back into the plush cushions.

“That does sound like me.”

Even so, Natalie was touched. She was actually pretty lucky in the sense that for the most part, her periods were pretty non eventful. Once every few months she felt a little more like she did today but on the whole she escaped a lot of the major pains. Plus, they hadn’t been dating Alex that long and with his training schedule, he wasn’t there a lot. His visits had only coincided with Natalie's periods once and it had been a good month so nothing had even been affected, this was his first time having to put his ‘Nice Nat’ knowledge into practice.

She curled into Kasey’s side, resting her head on his chest, glancing back at Alex once, who seemed unsure.

“C’mere sweetheart.” She beckoned, and she could see the tension leave him as he wrapped himself around her, his warm chest pressed against her back, wrapping an arm carefully around her middle. She caught his hand in hers, lifting it to her lips once before lowering it again. Leaving their fingers linked. Kasey covered them both with one of his own big hands and Natalie smiled, unable to stop herself from noticing how small her own hand looked sandwiched between theirs.

Kasey grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, scrolling until he found ‘Friends’ and flicked on a random episode in early season three.

“When Ross and Rachel are together.” He mumbled for Alex’s benefit, carding his fingers through Natalie’s hair. “They’re the best episodes.”

Natalie sighed in contentment, relaxing into her boys. It was nice with them both, different but amazing. With Kasey there was that lovely familiar relationship dynamic. Not boring, god never boring, but there was the fantastic intimacy about knowing everything about your partner. It was different with Alex - there was still the new thrill of excitement and a little uncertainty but they were all quickly learning how to adjust to this little dynamic they found themselves in and Natalie loved every minute of it.

[huntinghare]

Feral - Have you ever violently lost your temper? What was the aftermath?

Yes and no. Morcant has led a violent life and sees it as a perfectly viable solution to many problems, completely apart from whatever his emotional state happens to be. Certain subjects provoke him to it faster than others, but he regains control quickly enough that he's never stabbed or killed anyone out of anger, just... knocked them around a little. It can definitely make him less merciful in his decision making, but making sure your enemies won't come back to bite you is just good business sense, he'll swear til he's blue in the face that his emotions have nothing to do with it.

[Thank you for the ask! <3 These weren’t really writing prompts per se but it leapt out at me, so~]

-♦-

He's been drinking. Not enough to dull his senses, he's pretty sure, but he's been hanging around this Limsan bar for over a bell now and he has to do something to blend in. Twelve, he hates when clients keep him waiting.

He's just resigned himself to a third helping of this swill they call ale when the door bangs open. That isn't special in itself, the place has been lively all evening, but this time he recognizes the trio of voices as representatives of his current employer. He should stand and greet them, any moment now...

He does no such thing. There’s a massive Roegadyn at the next table whose bulk should conceal him nicely, and his petty side wants to make them do a little waiting in recompense. And so he stays put and smirks down into his mug, as his ears track their progress across the room.

They order drinks and chat about nothing in particular for a minute or two, until one finally grows annoyed. “Where the fuck even is he?”

“Why do you care, got better places to be?”

“I was hopin’ to sneak off to the pleasure barge later. Heard the boss sold them a new girl, one o’ them rabbit folk, and I ain’t ever tried one before.”

“Oh shit, for real? Yeah, you probably want to get in early, then, ‘fore she’s ruined.”

Morcant stands, his chair scraping noisily along the floor, his stomach suddenly sour (must be that damn ale). The new vantage gives him a good look at them, two Roe and a Highlander, casual as could be as they lean back against the bar. He should go over there, get this business over and done with, he can be gone in another five minutes.

“Ohhh,” the shortest one says, smirking, “you think she’ll have that little outfit they wear at the Manderville?”

Morcant puts one hand on the crystalline focus at his hip and closes the yalms between them with unnatural speed, uses the other to grab the Highlander by the collar and yank him down to eye level. His voice is low and quiet, and unmistakably threatening: “I would be very careful with my next words, if I were you.”

The man yelps in response, startled, though only slightly more startled than Morcant himself, who had not entirely intended to go through with this.

The hiss of blades being unsheathed soon jars him back to his senses. He releases his grip on the other man’s shirt and smooths it back down, giving himself time to school his expression into something more neutral before he turns his head to address the others. "Relax. If I wanted to put a knife in his gut it would be over with by now."

Strangely, this doesn’t seem to relax them at all; they recognize him and sheath their blades, but their hands stay firmly on the pommels. “Hey, what the fuck, where even were you? You got the thingy?”

“Perhaps, but the agreement’s off. I don’t deal with slavers.”

The hyur still looks rather shaken after being assaulted from nowhere. The other two lock eyes above his head, before one finally says: “He gave ya the location, though, right? You still owe him.”

“He should have thought of that before he refused to give me an advance. All I owe your employer is the tip, so have one in return: try the flea market in Ul’dah in a week’s time.” He turns his attention to the bartender, who’s inconspicuously reaching for something under the bar. “Apologies for the commotion, I’ll be out of your hair now.” He gives a sharp little wave (really more like a salute) then turns on his heel and marches for the door, ears pointed straight back behind him. The thugs, thankfully, make no move to follow.

The cool seaside air is a welcome change from the stale odor of the bar, but it does little to improve his mood. Ugh, what a waste of time. How to salvage the night... maybe the Bismarck will still be open?

It occurs to him, suddenly, that he was counting on that deal to refill his coin purse, and he’s spent his last few gil on those blighted drinks. “Fucking idiot,” he mutters to himself, then goes stalking off in search of the nearest hunt board.

[waywardfangirl]

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 2. Small Signs

Previous | Next | FFN | AO3

Word count: 3514

Awareness returns to Dani the same way it always does: instantly and with a deep, rattling breath. It echoes the dry rasp of her very first. Even after all this time, she still remembers what it was like to wake up in that vat. The thick ectoplasm that flooded her nose and mouth when she tried to breathe. The panic and confusion as her mind scrambled to understand what was happening. The overwhelming weight of knowledge that wasn't hers, that she didn't remember learning. Even thinking was a struggle in those first hours.

Sometimes waking up from sleep feels like that, minus the drowning. And being asleep is just like before. Before the electric current ran through her body and shocked her awake. Before she could think, or even knew what thinking was. Back when everything was just darkness and a mild awareness that she existed, but no certainty whether she was dead or alive.

Dani never dreams—she doesn’t think she's capable of it—but she's always aware.

Another light tap comes at the door.

On instinct, she scans her surroundings for danger. She takes in the blue walls, the plastic star constellations on the ceiling, and the general mess of the room before relaxing and remembering. This isn't some old house she's squatting in for the night; it's her new home.

She frowns. Her new home. Home. Home. The word doesn't sit right with her. It's what she's always wanted, but this place... could it really be home without Danny?

"Danielle?" a soft voice calls through the door.

Dani jerks upright, throwing off the blanket, and transforms in a flash. "I'm awake."

The doorknob rattles then turns, and the door slowly opens. Maddie Fenton peers inside. Her eyes land on Dani and she takes a sharp breath. "Oh, you're..." She trails off as she looks Dani over.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just wasn't expecting your ghost form."

Dani draws her knees to her chest, making herself small. "It's kind of my default."

"That's fine." Maddie steps forward. When she moves, something makes a crinkling noise, and Dani's gaze is drawn to a plastic bag hiding behind Maddie's legs. All wariness forgotten, Dani uncurls and crawls to the edge of the bed, clinging to the mattress while she leans forward.

"What's that?" she asks.

Maddie smiles and glances down at the bag. "We know you don't have much. Or"—she scans the room—"anything. So we picked up a few things on the way home. You'll probably need more, but we can take you shopping so you can pick things out for yourself. These are just some essentials."

She holds out the bag, and Dani eagerly snatches it up. Maddie wasn't lying when she said just the essentials. Inside, she finds a pair of pyjamas, a toothbrush—a toothbrush! She's never used one before—a hairbrush and some other toiletries, and lastly, a box with some kind of pad thing on the front. Dani takes out the box and turns it over in her hands.

"What are these?" she asks. They look vaguely familiar. Perhaps, once or twice, she glimpsed them sitting on drugstore shelves, but they had never caught her attention before.

"They're period pads," Maddie says.

"What are they for?"

Maddie opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her eyebrows crease together in confusion. Instead of answering, she walks forward to the end of the bed and kneels down. She reaches out, but stops before she can touch Dani and draws her hand back.

"How old are you?" she asks. "Jazz said you were at least fifteen."

"Technically, yeah. I think I was twelve biologically when Vlad made me? So I guess that makes me fifteen. But I've only existed for three years. My birthday is next month!" Dani grins. She didn't do much for her first birthday, but last year she visited Amity Park and Danny made a whole day of it! He even bought her a present, although Dani lost the music player pretty quickly. Not that she hadn't loved it, but it was hard to keep track of belongings when you weren't used to having them. She couldn't wait to see what they would do this year.

A second passes before Dani realizes what's wrong with that statement. Her grin falls away.

It doesn't look like Maddie noticed, though. She's too busy frowning at the box of pads that are still in Dani's hands.

"Have you never...?" Maddie gestures to the box, but Dani doesn’t know what she means. With a sigh, Maddie reaches out and takes the pads, setting them down on the floor. "I guess it doesn't matter what they're for right now, then. We can talk about that later. For now, how are you?"

Dani shrugs. "Okay, I guess." She was better a few seconds ago when she forgot Danny was dead for a blissful moment.

"We understand that this is all very new for you. And it's hard for all of us right now. Take your time. If you need anything, let us know. Other than that, you can just focus on getting settled. We'll take care of the rest," Maddie says.

Dani doesn't know what else there could be to take care of, but she nods anyway.

"Are you hungry? It's a little after noon right now and I was going to start making lunch. I could use some company."

"I could eat," Dani admits. Before arriving this morning, she didn't think to grab breakfast anywhere, and it has been well over a day since her last meal. Her stomach cramps, far from the worst hunger pangs, but still annoying.

Maddie smiles and stands up. "Perfect." She waves her hand, gesturing for Dani to follow. When Dani rises off the bed, her eyes widen. It only lasts a moment, a second of stunned silence, but it's enough for Dani to drop to the floor, her boots thumping on the thick carpet, feeling rather self-conscious.

Neither of them mentions it as they head downstairs. On the way down, Dani strains her ears, listening for Jazz or Jack elsewhere in the house. Jack, she hears quite easily, unsurprisingly. Loud, tromping footsteps carry up from the lab, their beat steady and constant. He must be pacing, Dani thinks. It reminds her of Danny. He used to pace when simply thinking didn't suffice; he needed to move through some problems, treat them like physical things he could see and touch. That's how he explained it to her once, not that long ago.

Jazz, if she's still home, doesn't make a sound.

Dani takes up residence at the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and sitting with her legs crossed over the seat. Meanwhile, Maddie starts taking ingredients out of the fridge. Nothing fancy. Lettuce, tomatoes, a few packages of sliced meat. A small pile of vegetables grows in the empty space beside the sink.

"If you don't mind, can you tell me what it's like?" Maddie asks as she pulls a cutting board from a drawer.

"What what's like?"

"Being a halfa."

Maddie, with her back to Dani, misses the way she presses her lips together at that word. Halfa. It's not a bad word, per se. Danny never had any issue with it, as far as Dani could tell, but it never sat right with her.

"I'm not a halfa," she says.

Maddie's hand pauses halfway to the knife block. She looks over her shoulder, finally noticing Dani's grim expression. "Am I saying it wrong? That's the term Jazz used."

"It's Danny's word." Maddie flinches, but Dani presses on. "And Vlad's too, I guess. Being a halfa means being half human and half ghost, but I'm just me."

"But you have both forms?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't all human before I became part ghost. And I didn't have to die for that to happen."

Maddie quickly turns back to the counter. Dani can't see her face, but it is impossible to miss how her shoulders tense. She grabs a knife from the block and a tomato from the counter and makes her first cut. The knife thunks against the cutting board. "What's it like being you, then?" There's a tremble in her voice. "With your powers."

Dani shrugs. "I'm okay with them. I'm a pretty fast flyer since that's how I always get around. Faster than Danny was."

Another chop, another loud thunk.

"But I'm really good at the weird body stuff! I got the hang of it really fast!" Dani can't help but smile. She holds her arm out, watching it slowly turn green and goopy. The sleeve of her shirt melts into skin and fat drops or ectoplasm slip off onto the table. The goop clings to her bones, only held together by her force of will. If she wanted, she could let it disintegrate into a bubbling puddle. Even the bone can turn soft and malleable as a licorice twist, although she doesn't let it get that far.

Thinking about why she can do this always brings up bad memories, but Dani pushes those aside in favour of how cool it is that she can melt into slime at a moment's notice.

"Look! Look at this!" Dani jiggles her arm, giggling as bits of ectoplasm go flying.

Maddie isn't looking, though. When Dani glances up to check, she finds Maddie staring down at the counter. "Was it like that for Danny?" Maddie asks.

Dani's smile falters. "Maybe? I got lots of training before I met him, but he was still better than me with most stuff. He couldn't do this, though!" She gives her arm another shake, then slaps it down on the table with a loud splat for good measure.

Maddie still doesn't look, though. She resumes her chopping, grabbing a pepper while pushing the tomato aside. "Tell me more."

—

Lunch is brief. Maddie brings a small stack of sandwiches and a plate of salad down to the lab for Jack, along with a small container of fudge. She comes back upstairs long enough to grab her own food before joining him.

"We're making some of our weapons safer for you to be around," Maddie explains before disappearing downstairs.

Dani isn't too disappointed to be left alone. While talking with Maddie was nice, it was always about her powers, always came back to Danny. Did Danny like flying? Did he struggle with his powers? You have this ability, did Danny have it, too? Genuine curiosity lingered in Maddie's voice with every question. Dani knows she's a scientist, and with that job comes a need for knowledge, a desire to understand everything. Having Dani in the house provides a unique chance to learn everything she can about ghosts and half-ghosts.

But something else lurked behind the curiosity. Dani, in her inexperience, can't properly name what she had felt, but it irks her. Makes her feel off-centre. When Maddie leaves, and Dani has a minute to herself, she breathes out a sigh of relief.

Her food disappears quickly. The sandwich is good; simple, but good. Same with the salad. Dani never starved on the road, but she ate what she could steal, pre-packaged foods snagged off gas station shelves. Once or twice, she snuck into restaurants to steal plates right from the kitchen, but that required stealth and patience if she didn't want to get noticed.

Once she has finished eating, and her plate is licked clean, she doesn't know what to do. Maddie left the fixings on the counter along with her dirty utensils. After a moment's debate, Dani deposits her plate and fork in the sink. She's washing her hands, squishing soap between her fingers, when Jazz enters.

Like Maddie, Jazz pauses when she takes in Dani's ghost form, but she doesn't comment on it. "How was your nap?"

Dani shrugs. Dipping her hands under the faucet, she watches the soap wash away, bubbles forming at the bottom of the sink. "It was good."

"Good." Jazz gathers her lunch in silence, grabbing the sandwich Maddie left out for her and loading a plate with salad. Once her plate is full, she starts putting everything away. Cutting board and knife in the sink, vegetables back in the fridge, bread wrapped and retied.

Dani watches, noticing little aborted movements Jazz keeps making. When she goes to put the bread away, her arm jerks as if she was about to throw it. She catches herself at the last second and walks it to the pantry. After the food is away, she grabs a tea towel rather than a dishcloth, and reaches toward the left sink, only to stop.

Dani peers between the empty left sink, and the right sink with the dirty dishes. "Something wrong?"

"No, it's... it's nothing." Jazz folds the tea towel and lays it on the counter, then grabs the dishcloth instead.

"Want some help?" Dani asks.

Jazz blinks. A strange look crosses her face, a soft smile tinged with hope that, to Dani, doesn't fit the situation at all. Jazz holds out the dishcloth and says, "First one done picks the show."

Dani grabs the tea towel since it's closer. "That doesn't really make sense. I can't finish drying until you're done washing," she points out.

Jazz stares at the tea towel, her own hand curling tighter around the dishcloth. "No, I guess it doesn't."

Dani abandons her cloth with the first dish Jazz passes over, phasing the cutting board dry rather than doing it by hand. She doesn't bother opening the drawer, either, shoving the cutting board right through the door instead. It takes less than a minute to get all the dishes clean and put away.

Jazz picks up her plate once the kitchen is clean and heads out. With nothing better to do, Dani follows her. They end up in the living room, Jazz claiming the left side of the couch while Dani takes the right. The remote lays between them for a second before Jazz grabs it. As she reaches for it, slowly, she keeps looking at Dani, as if she's checking for something, expectingher to do something.

Instead, Dani looks around the room.

Of all the rooms in Fenton Works, this is the one she has been in the least. With three windows looking out into the street and the front door right there, she and Danny always thought it was too risky to hang out here, in case Maddie and Jack came home when they weren't expecting it. A few family photos hang on the wall, and the cushions are well worn. Dani notes a significant dip on the loveseat. That must be Jack's favourite spot.

A burst of music pulls Dani's attention to the television. Jazz has put on a TV show. It starts mid-episode, but Dani actually recognizes it, to her surprise. She's only watched TV a handful of times in her life, although she has snuck into plenty of movie theatres. Although she can't remember the show's name, she knows it's about space explorers. The actors look different for some reason, but those colour-coded shirts are undeniably familiar.

"Has a redshirt died yet?" she asks.

Jazz hits pause. "You know Star Trek?"

"Danny showed me some of it. It's okay, I guess." When she says this, Jazz's eyes widen. A flicker of hurt passes through them, although Dani has no idea why. She ignores it. "This doesn't look like what I saw," Dani adds.

"He probably showed you the original series. He liked to start with that," Jazz says, quieter than before.

"So, what's this, then?"

"One of the series from the 90s. Deep Space Nine, I think? It's... it's the most recent one he was watching." Jazz's hand drifts over the remote, her fingers skimming the play button. "Do you mind if we watch it?"

Dani shrugs. "I don't care."

Starting partway through the episode, Dani doesn't quite know what's going on, and she doesn't care much to find out. It's entertaining enough to watch, but sci-fi isn't her thing. Hard to get into a genre that her whole existence revolves around.

Jazz is still eating by the time the episode ends. She's done by the end of the next, her crumb-ridden plate sitting on the coffee table, but neither of them makes a move to stop the show.

Every once in a while, Jazz glances Dani's way. She thinks nothing of it, at first, but by the fifth episode a frown has etched itself into Jazz's face, and Dani is getting annoyed as they near the two-hour mark.

The next time Jazz discreetly turns her head, Dani snaps. "Yeah?" The couch bounces as she swivels to face Jazz.

Jazz starts, then flushes, embarrassed at being caught. "I was just wondering, aren't you tired? I know you were sleeping earlier, but you've been in your ghost form all days. It's not exhausting?"

Dani shrugs. "No? I'm almost always like this."

"But Danny always got really tired if he stayed in his ghost form too long. Sometimes he would pass out or just lose the transformation completely."

"I'm not Danny, though."

Jazz stills. "Right. No, yeah. I guess you aren't."

"I'm not," Dani affirms.

Jazz nods sharply, jerking her head, and snaps her attention back to the TV.

—

The Fentons clearly have their own daily rhythm, one that sees surprisingly little impact without Danny's presence. Maybe they have already filled in the gaps in the couple of weeks Danny has been dead, but Dani doubts it. More than likely, he spent so much time as Phantom that it affected his daily routine.

Maddie and Jack spend most of their time in the lab, or out roving the city in their RV. There hasn't been another ghost attack since the one that killed Danny, and it probably isn't a coincidence, but the eldest Fentons don't seem to take that into account.

"They're trying to keep things normal," Jazz says when Dani asks her about it on the third day. "It's a normal coping mechanism. A good routine can prevent depressive episodes, as long as they aren't overworking themselves."

Ironic considering how Jazz is always working. Despite being on break from college, Dani catches her every day studying hard, chipping away at some paper, or breezing through a textbook thicker than her fist. She also has a notebook she keeps with her most of the time, labelled "Memorial Plans." An event Dani still knows very little about.

Dani falls into her own routine in those first few days. At mealtimes, she keeps whoever is cooking company. Maddie, if she's home. Jazz any other time. Dani takes to waiting in the kitchen for them, around noon and later at six o'clock. The first couple times they walked in to find her there, they looked startled, then pleased. Jazz's eyes actually watered, once. It doesn't take long before Dani fills in as a helper. It's more entertaining than watching, and after so long on the road, there's something nice about learning to cook. A reminder that she has time for it, that she will be here tomorrow and can do it again.

She and Jazz keep watching TV together, although the time varies. Whenever Jazz wants to sit down for an episode—and it's never more than that, despite how long they watched the first day—she finds Dani and asks if she wants any "Trek time." Dani gets the remote only once, on their second time watching. Instead of Star Trek, she picks a sitcom that looks funny and normal.

Jazz keeps the remote after that.

The only person Dani doesn't spend time with is Jack. She sees him once or twice, lumbering through the hall between the kitchen and the lab. As far as she can tell, he sleeps down there. He must since she has yet to find him on the second floor where the bedrooms are.

When she's alone, Dani occupies herself with Danny's things. He has a lot of stuff, and she has no idea what to do with all of it, much less what he did with all of it. Posters especially elude her. What's the point of something that doesn't actually do anything? She goes through his closet the most, picking at his clothes. There are a few shirts close to her size, since Danny didn't get his growth spurt until last year, but none of them suit Dani's style.

On her fourth day at Fenton Works, more than half a week since she arrived, Dani has all the shirts that fit her laid out on Danny's bed. None of them fit perfectly, but she wants to wear something new. You get sick of the same hoodie and shorts after three years, even if they grow with you.

A heavy, thumping knock comes at the door.

Dani, distracted by the shirts, says, "I don't really feel like it right now, Jazz."

"Dani." A voice much deeper than Jazz's greets her. When she looks up, she finds Jack in the open doorway, ecto-gun in hand. "Can we talk?"

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