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foli-vora · 4 years ago

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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ficforce · 4 years ago

Text

Pushing It

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader

SFW

No set timeline

Established relationship

Benimaru was known to look mostly uninterested and a little annoyed the majority of the time. The people of Asakusa tended to ignore the mood he seemed to be in as they were fully aware it was just the way his face rested; they knew he was harmless unless provoked and they knew he was soft on his town.

Sometimes though, his face reflected his mood, it was a subtle difference but people who knew him could read it - especially when the temperature around him was higher and his body language said ‘stay away’. As the young man passed by the daifuku stall the owner didn’t dare give him her usual gift, the owner of the stall beside hers watched her sigh, “What’s gotten Beni-chan so upset?”

“He got into a fight with Y/N first thing.” The other replied as he picked up a treat and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully and then swallowing, “They were sparring and he sent her into a wall. Then they exchanged some words and she ran off after kneeing him in the gut.”

“They’re both so stubborn!” She tutted, “They’ll make up by tonight… they always do.”

A small crowd of sellers met in the middle and they all began to gossip about the couple, laying down bets and laughing at other fights the two had had in the past. It was harmless banter for them, not one person there wishing for Benimaru and Y/N to fight but they did enjoy reminiscing over young love.

By the lunchtime rush, it was old news.

Benimaru spent the majority the time sulking on the gentan of the guardhouse, waiting for Y/N to come back so that she could forgive him without him having to apologise. He glared at everyone who entered and asked them where Y/N was. She had her own duties as a Hikeshi, half the jobs he had given her himself; yet it still frustrated him she was out.

Konro stepped inside, a small smile crossing his lips as he saw the glowering Captain, and he held out a box of dango, “Y/N is out of town, remember?” Benimaru took the food without taking his eyes off of the entrance, “Waka.”

“Yeah, yeah she’s out.”

Konro sat beside him and started removing his boots, “Are you feeling guilty?” It was sometimes hard to get Benimaru to admit what he was feeling without getting him angry, “You were a little rough with her…” receiving no reply her took a piece of dango and ate it slowly, letting his words permeate for a second, “She was hurting, Waka.”

He clicked his tongue and mismatched eyes shifted to his second in command, “You think one of those White Clad bastards are gonna go easy on her?” His hand carded through his hair with a frustrated huff, “If she can’t put the work in-”

His eyes widened a little as his collar was snatched and Konro pulled him up slightly, “Oi, She’s working hard, Beni.” Benimaru resisted rolling his eyes, Konro’s lowered tone and slip of the Captain’s name told him he’d be in for a lecture if he answered back; though the disappointed look was enough to make him regret complaining. “She hasn’t been fighting as long as you, she’s not as physically strong but she still gives you a reason to be on your guard. You keep complaining at her and telling her to do better.”

“I’m trying to protect her.” Konro let go of Benimaru’s collar and the younger man grumbled as he fixed his clothing, “Tell her the truth. Tell her she’s doing well and that you’re impressed.”

Benimaru shoved the food in his mouth so that he didn’t have to answer right away, “She can’t take a compliment, she’ll try to stab me with her chopsticks again…”

“She gets embarrassed - what did you say to her last night the had you two running through the Guardhouse?” He had heard them chasing each other and giggling like kids.

A ghost of a smirk appeared and disappeared just as quickly, “I told her she looked pretty and she hit me with her pillow.”

Konro smiled fondly - they had always been a playful couple, even before they got together. Their little back and forth was cute… until one of them pushed it too far and they fought. “Just remember how hard you used to try and how mad you got when the Master told you to do better. Carrot and stick; it’s time to spare the stick.”

“…Your advice is always cryptic as fuck!”

x - -

Y/N was greeted at the gate by Hikage and Hinata, the girls excited to see her and chatting the entire way to the bathhouse located a short distance from the Guardhouse. She adored the girls and her heart warmed to know they had waited for her to get back, even if it was just a quick catch up before sending them home.

It had been a hard day, the argument with Benimaru, the visit to the doctor and then the errands she had to run in the city to keep certain supplies coming into Asakusa. Y/N unwrapped the bandage around her ribs so that she could shower and enjoy a long soak in the bath. It was hours after dinner, which meant the baths were empty and the owner trusted her to lock up after she was done.

The woman sunk into the water with a soft groan.

Since the attack on Asakusa a few months before and the appearance of a demon Benimaru had been on her. He trained her longer and hit her harder - over and over until she was barely able to stand.

Pushing and pushing.

It was for her own good. It was so that she could protect herself better but sometimes she felt like he forgot she was his girlfriend. She had thought she had him that morning, her strategy giving her the advantage until he snuck in with a hard palm strike that sent her flying and fractured her rib. It had been painful but she hadn’t wanted him to see because he would be disappointed, he would have thought she was weak and all her hard work would go to waste.

He kept telling her to try harder.

The steam from the bath made her face damp, making it easy to ignore the frustrated tears that escaped her eyes. She was trying so hard…

“Shut up.”

“What did I tell you about bathing alone?”

Hearing his voice she let out an annoyed sound, “In case creeps sneak into the women’s baths? Get lost, Waka.”

“Waka…” She was upset at him, wasn’t she. He didn’t have a scrap of clothing on as he walked brazenly toward the bath and entered the water opposite her, “You can handle a creep who sneaks in, fainting from the heat and exhaustion then drowning is trickier on your own.” Benimaru sat down on the inner ledge, the water lapping at his upper chest, “How’s your side?”

Y/N frowned at him, “You fractured my rib.” She blinked in surprise as his gaze lifted sharply and he moved across the bath to her side, his hands held her shoulder and waist to make her stand. The bruise on her skin was obvious to him, it was much darker now that the water had drawn it out.

“I thought you could handle it… we’ve been more evenly matched lately.” He heard her scoff and looked at her face; reaching up to brush the tear tracks on her cheeks. “You’re going to kick my ass one of these days.”

Y/N murmured for him to shut up as she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his hips and pressing her cheek to his shoulder when he returned her hold. “You’re lying.”

“I thought you wanted more carrots…” Her head moved and he glanced down to see her eyebrows drawn together in confusion, “Konro said… I don’t know what he meant”

He’d spoken to Konro?

“It’s an old saying; Carrot and stick… a donkey will be more willing to work if you offer it a carrot rather than hit it with a stick.” It was sweet that he had spoken to Konro before coming to apologise but sometimes he really was a clueless idiot, “Are you saying I’m a donkey?”

“Just take the damn compliment, Y/N.”

“Being a donkey isn’t a compliment.” Warm water hit her face when he splashed her.

He stepped out of her reach when she tried to splash him back, “Just believe me when I say I’m proud of you,” Benimaru clicked his tongue, “You’re so difficult.”

“See.”

Y/N wasn’t great at taking praise, she didn’t like people seeing her get flustered, she didn’t like the smug look on his face when he saw how happy something he had said made her. They fought a lot, they argued and didn’t seem to get along to strangers but they fit well together. The truth was that they loved each other and they hated to be apart. “I keep pushing you because I love you and I need to know you can handle yourself. I need to know I can fight my fights and you’ll be there when the smoke clears… that you’re no gonna get hurt by some cult freak.” He let her back into his arms once he was sure she would behave, “Be mad at me, hate me if you want but don’t you ever die.”

She could never hate him, “As if I would leave your useless ass all alone.”

#shinmon benimaru #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai

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c0ffeebee · 4 years ago

Note

you got any rare kliego fic recs? i’ve probably read the first five pages of most kudos’d results but i know there are a ton that slip thru the cracks

ok, i'm sorry for replying so late, nonny, but i guess looking at the list you'll understand why ❤

i'll be honest with you once i've gotten into kliego i read through their entire tag of ao3 [at least those fics where i was ok with the tags and summary felt intriguing] so now i literally went through it again and picked those of the fics the names of which i remembered, and there's A LOT 😀 some of those are really popular, some not at all, but i remember loving those ❤

at first i thought i would tell you a bit about every fic on the list, but it would take me forever, so i will just give you titles/links, authors and summaries, hope it's fine ❤ look out for the tags tho, to know if you’re fine with everything! and some of those are benkliego ❤

i'm sure i forgot or missed something, but i did my best, trust me ❤

so without further ado i present to you:

bee's big kliego rec list (in no particular order)

till you can breathe on your own by iwishii

Diego has never been more frightened than he is now, trying to help his brother reach the surface in time.

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practice makes perfect by iwishii

Klaus doesn't want to show up to parties totally inexperienced and virginal, so he asks Diego to help him get some practice in.

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master of my domain by achilleees

“You’re asking five 13-year-old boys not to jerk off for – it can’t be done,” Luther says. “Now that we’re older, it would be different, but back then –”

“Excuse me, I could do it,” Five says. “I could certainly outlast all of you.”

They all look at each other.

“Oh, no,” says Allison.

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the year that wasn't by achilleees

Diego turned to Five. “I’ve already, uh, lived today. This has already happened.”

Everyone went still.

“Ooh, that’s a mind-fuck,” said Klaus.

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The Weight of Himself by sarkywoman

If he could, Diego would unfurl his middle finger.

For the 'can only move the eyes' square at badthingshappenbingo. Reginald's experiments have devastating consequences on Diego, but both he and Klaus refuse to let that be the end.

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Laid Bare by MilenaDaniels

“So,” Five continued matter-of-factly, “you’re in a cramped, human sized box, in a graveyard where you can’t see light or hear sounds. What are the odds that you’re above ground?”

Diego blinked. He thought he’d been smelling the iron of his blood pooling and drying under his head but it was humid in here, and musty.

“Fuck,” Diego said.

Diego and Klaus are buried alive together.

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Flies in the Kitchen by yourfearlessleader

Klaus is sixteen and love is a rot.

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Before, During, and After by yourfearlessleader

Before the apocalypse, life was making the best of a bad situation, and Klaus found that he grew up to be very good at it.

During is, for lack of a better word, hard.

After they try to kill Vanya, after the apocalypse, after they jump through time to avoid it, after they survive and make up and a million and one other things, here they are.

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break it like you're breaking a code by findyourfortunefalling

"Are you planning to sit in a chair like a person today, or are we all eating our breakfast off of you this morning?"

"Kinky," Klaus purrs, but he rolls off the table anyway, and piles himself into a seat near the head of the table. Diego puts the plate of pancakes in front of him; he's put blueberries in them today. "Thank you, chef."

"Eat," says Diego. "Quietly."

Instead of replying, Klaus picks up a pancake with his fingers, stuffs the entire thing into his mouth at once, and chews noisily.

Diego sighs, and goes back to the stove. "Man, I remember a time when you were house trained."

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two boys emerging from shadowed hallways by spikeymarshmallows

After Ben dies, Diego drags a broken Klaus out of the Academy. They're both determined to never return, to find their own way out in the world.

Things are not as easy as they would like.

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the things i can't say by spikeymarshmallows

"Diego, wait!" Klaus shouted, clutching Diego's arm.

"You look like Antonio Banderas with long hair," he choked.

Five times Klaus doesn't say 'I love you'.

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Into the Night by spikeymarshmallows

"Hey," Klaus whispered, "hey, Diego, wake up." Diego grumbled, dragging his blanket higher up his body before settling again. "Hey." Klaus tried again, voice a little louder. "Hey, wake up." He poked at Diego's arm insistently.

The Hargreeves siblings go on late night adventure to get doughnuts

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all tangled close by spikeymarshmallows

They were all going to have to deal with the pheromones for however long Klaus' first heat lasted.

Diego was, in a word, screwed.

Five times Diego and Klaus have heat sex; and one time they don't.

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the kliego genderswap/sexswap by spikeymarshmallows

The name speaks for itself.

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The Fools' Journey by sweetstuff

After his release from prison on a manslaughter charge, Diego tries to leave behind the life he adapted to survive on the inside. He finds himself drawn to a beautiful and peculiar sex worker named Klaus in a local bar, and when danger strikes Diego makes a decision that will have them both running for their lives.

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and death i think is no parenthesis by laiqualaurelote

“You guys seem really chill about all this,” observed Ben. “By this point most people are running around screaming.”

“Occupational hazard,” said Klaus.

“I’ve lost a lot of blood,” said Diego. “I’m just accepting everything at face value right now.”

Allison is the best damn realtor in the business, and she is going to sell the Hargreeves Mansion if it kills her. Never mind that it’s packed to the rafters with the ghastly relics of grisly murders, or that there’s a vampire in the basement who looks like a 13-year-old, or that the medium she hired to exorcise its inhabitants keeps flirting with some of them, i.e. the one with the knives and the one with the tentacles. Or that if they all spend enough time together, they just might cause the apocalypse.

NotSiblings!AU that is basically The Umbrella Academy as American Horror Story: Murder House, though you need not have seen any AHS to read this.

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i got troubles (they won't let me be) by antipathy

“I don’t understand why you’re hung up on this.” Five didn’t bother to mask his scowl. “Let me spell it out for you: either you two fuck, or we all die.”

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Eye Of The Storm by shadowhive

Diego decides to surprises Klaus by taking them on a weekend trip, but it doesn’t go as planned.

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Mine, All Mine by Electra_XT

“No!” Klaus said. “Move the other way.”

“What are you trying to get a good look at, exactly?” Diego said.

Klaus blinked at him. His eyes were wide and kohl-rimmed, as fetching and alluring as the rest of him. “Why, your ass,” he said. “That thing is fine.”

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On Sight by Electra_XT

“Oh,” Klaus said, stopping in his tracks with his hand on the mouse.

Ben leaned over his shoulder. “‘Cute Latino camboy gives a show’?”

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Practice Makes Perfect Sense by punk_rock_yuppie

“Practice… kissing?” Diego asks.

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Aftershocks by punk_rock_yuppie

Saving the world is hard work, is Klaus’ last thought before succumbing to the heat of the puppy pile he and his other siblings have formed.

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Passenger by Cunninglinguist

“And you’re sure that’s okay?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s fine with me. All we have to do is ask Diego.”

“And you think he’ll be...cool with it?”

“Dunno.” Klaus shrugs and stirs his smoothie with his straw. “But I’m on board with it, and he usually gets on board with whatever I’m on board with, so. I’d say it’s at least worth an ask.”

Klaus feels Ben’s eyes burning into him as he sips his beverage. Sure, the idea of Ben possessing him had initially been about as appealing as a coffee enema, and the first few times in practice had been more than slightly traumatizing. But once they’d established ground rules and worked to get more in tune with one another, Klaus had come to find the experience to be...interesting. It could be pleasant, almost zen—there is no sensation in the world quite like being a passenger in one's own body. And to be privy to both his own sensations as well as Ben’s? Well, that’s something else entirely.

Which is why the idea of Ben possessing his body during sex both freaks him out and turns him on in equal measure.

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i am a dark and wicked thing by Cunninglinguist

Klaus is staring at Diego with hollow eyes, straw still perched between his lips. No reaction, not even a spark of joy or schadenfreude as he watches Diego disrupt breakfast. Diego shifts. He’s seen corpses before, and were Klaus not sitting close enough to touch, chest rising and falling visibly with his breath, Diego could easily mistake him for one.

Vampire!Klaus AU

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The Diamond Sinners by Cunninglinguist

Another drink and a half later, he’s finally back on the right side of numb. The house lights dim and a new dancer is announced. He’s gazing across the club, eyeing the buffet with semi-tipsy hunger, thinking that it’s probably time to call it a night, when suddenly, his heart stops dead in his chest.

There, onstage, rolling his lithe body sensuously against the pole like he was summoned out of one of Diego’s wet dreams, is Klaus.

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Broken Like Me by Starrstruck_64

“This s-s-stuff will kill you,” he says plucking the cigarette out of Klaus’ fingers, delighting slightly in the fact that he’d only partially stumbled through the sentence.

Klaus smirks and it’s such a far cry from his fun loving brother he had two weeks ago that Diego nearly flinches.

“Ever stop and think that’s the plan,” Klaus says moving to stand and reaching to snag the cigarette back.

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sing it out, hard as you can by plingo_kat

The first time it happens, Klaus doesn’t notice.

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Soft by Dirty_Corza

Sometimes, between the boxing matches and vigilante business, Diego likes to be soft.

Klaus and Ben surprise him by liking the softer side of him, too.

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Wait for it by nishiki

A mission gone wrong, a dream shattered.

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all that i have to lose by UnrememberedSkies

Diego does some good, and Klaus pays the price.

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wasp by Chelseylovesllamas

Diego is scared of bugs, Klaus saves the day.

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Friday at Four by Kliegology

Diego's life takes a nosedive when he's forced out of work and into an art therapy class. He's clinging to his last shred of normality when he meets Klaus, who takes one look at him and threatens to tear it away.

“I think you’ll find you have a lot in common with the other people there,” The Therapist said, watching him shrewdly.

Diego was vividly reminded of the jittery, barefoot man in the pink fluffy cardigan. He snorted. “I don’t think so.”

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#long post #kliego #bee answers #anonymous

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 5 years ago

Text

Insecurities

Pairing: Sokka x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Being a non-bender in the gaang isn’t always easy but your best friend Sokka always has ways of cheering you up.

Word Count: 2017

A/N: This is my first A:TLA fic! I hope Sokka isn’t OOC but please let me know if he is so I can write him better in the future!

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No matter much you insisted to yourself and everyone around you that being a non-bender didn't bother you, it was a bold faced lie. You hated it.

Back home, it hadn't been an issue. In the little earth kingdom village you hailed from, bending was forbidden because the fire nation had soldiers there that would imprison any earth benders. Even those who had the gift didn't tell anyone so you never felt different or less than.

But now that you were with Team Avatar, as Sokka liked to call it, there were constant reminders about your lack of powers.

You sat on a rock on the bank of the river you'd all camped next to, staring at the point where the string of your fishing pole entered the water. It was your job to provide food tonight and after much begging from Sokka for “real food”, as he called it, you found yourself trying to fish instead of forage. The sun was beginning to set, still in the pale blue stage of descent. In a little creek that split off, Katara moved smoothly, guiding water into the air with ease as she practiced a new move she'd been working on.

Toph was just lying against a rock pillow that she'd willed up into just the right, perfectly comfortable (for a rock) form, shade being cast down on her from another sheet of rock she'd bent into a half tent form. Having secretly been a standing champion in an earth bending fighting ring, beating full grown men five times her size at the age of twelve, she seldom felt the need to practice.

Zuko was being Zuko. He stood off away from everyone in a clearing of dirt at the edge of the woods, practicing perfectly posed movements as he tried to force more and more power into the fire leaving his palms.

It wasn't until Aang swooshed past you on a ball of air, sending your hair and the fabric of your clothing blowing in the wake of his pure youthful laughter, that the weight of your insecurities really hit you.

You sighed, setting your makeshift fishing rod down and wedging it between two rocks. You scrunched your knees up and rested your chin on them, imagining what your life would be like if you had been born with such power. "Hey, you okay?" Sokka appeared from seemingly nowhere, coming up from behind to sit beside you.

You perked up and tried to shake off the painful thoughts and shrugged, "Yeah, I'm good." You lied with a smile.

"Please tell me you caught something. I am dying for some meat. We've been eating nothing but berries for days and I think I might die." Sokka begged, plucking at the string coming from the rod.

You smacked his hand away and reprimanded him, "You're gonna scare the fish, idiot!"

Yours and Sokka's relationship had always been full of sarcasm and insults but always from a place of love. As the only non-benders, you often found yourselves paired up for everything which gave you a lot of time to develop a pretty solid friendship. But your idiot, meat obsessed best friend should have known better than to disrupt your fishing.

Sokka put his hands up in defense, "I'm sorry! I'm just hungry, okay?!" He whined, plopping his face into his hands in

As he sulked about the hunger you all shared, you looked over, your attention drawn by Zuko's groan of frustration. A tree he was facing was slightly charred but it was clear that he had intended to cause much more damage. He was distracted and frustrated but those seemed to be fairly frequent emotions for him.

Sokka noticed the unusual silence between the two of you and glanced over, chin still on his palm, and noticed you looking sadly at Zuko. He knew very well though that the look wasn't longing for Zuko himself but rather his powers. It was a feeling Sokka was well familiar with himself, "I know how you feel." He began simply, knowing you were reading each other's minds.

You knew exactly what he meant. It was an unspoken bond of frustration that was only ever brought up verbally when someone underestimated your competence as fighters but it was there. "Do you ever wish you could bend?" You asked, looking over at him.

Sokka leaned back, his usual air of casual cockiness fading into a more sincere version of himself that didn’t shine through as often, "Not so much anymore. I mean, when we were younger, Katara was the only bender in our village so I guess I was jealous that she had this amazing power and I didn't. But I think now I've come to accept my place in the group. Katara and you are the brains. Zuko, Toph, and Aang are the brawn. And I'm the beauty." He put his hand under his chin like a child trying to pose cutely and he pulled his "cutest" face (although you weren't sure if that's what you'd call it - more like cheesy).

You chuckled a little bit, your tone becoming a slightly lighter, "Well, if you could bend, what kind of bender would want to be?"

Sokka chewed his lip and thought for a moment, "I think I'd stick with my roots and be a water bender. What about you?"

Your brows furrowed, "I don't know… I mean I know I'm from the earth kingdom so I should say earth bender but I just… I don't know! My whole life would just be rocks. I mean, don't get me wrong, the powers are amazing and definitely one of the most powerful as far as I'm concerned but it's just rocks. Everything is rock."

"I know exactly how that feels! My whole life has been ice! Everything is freaking ice! I lived in an igloo made of ice!" Sokka spoke animatedly, flailing his arms around to further his point.

Normally, you might have giggled or rolled your eyes at his dramaticness but instead you became more enthusiastic about your words as well. "Exactly! I mean I lived in a wooden hut but we used to take trips to Omashu and everything is just rock! At least the air kingdom and fire kingdom don't just have air and fire for everything."

"You know what?" Sokka asked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "They may have superpowers but you know what they don't have?"

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue his sentiment. "A kick ass boomerang or a freaking awesome bow staff!" He finished, whipping out his boomerang and using it to point to your bow staff that was leaned against the rocks beside you, your main weapon of choice.

"Aang kind of has a staff." You interjected, rolling your eyes to look over at your friend.

"No, Aang has a magical flying stick." Sokka was clearly unamused by your attempt to fault his logic, “Just accept the fact that you’re cool too!”

His compliments made your cheeks turn red and you laughed, “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. I am pretty awesome.”

Sokka’s arms went out in triumph when you finally admitted your true value, “Exactly! Besides, we’re better at hand to hand combat than them too.”

Your head wavered side to side as an expression of unsureness swept over your face, “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen Zuko with his swords?”

“Shut up!” He whined, exasperated, “If you’re going to keep being like this, I’m going to stop trying to make you feel important.”

Your mouth fell open a little bit at his last comment, “Are you saying I’m not important?!” Obviously, you knew that wasn’t what he meant. He’d been your best friend since you joined the group so you knew that Sokka valued you just as much as you did him. But still, as such an easy target, he was so much fun to pick on sometimes.

Your best friend quickly backtracked, “Not that you’re not important! Just- agh! You know what I mean!” His face fell dramatically and his arms dropped to his side, finally stilling from their usual expressive flailing.

You reached over and grabbed his arm in reassurance, laughing at his flusteredness, “I know what you mean, Sokka! I’m just kidding Gosh, you’re so easy to pick on.” Sokka groaned as you pulled him in close, giving him a side hug. “Thank you for trying to help me feel better. I know that we’re a vital part of the team and that we have specialties that others don’t. I just can’t help but feel insecure sometimes when everyone else can bend the elements to their will and we can’t.”

Sokka leaned into your touch, awkwardly side hugging you back while you held onto his arm, “Yeah, I know. Me too sometimes. But then I just remember how awesome I am and then I feel better. You should try it sometime” He let you go and pulled his boomerang out from behind him, inspecting the sharp blade with a cocky smirk you knew was just there to mask his insecurities.

“Maybe I should.” You pondered his words as you leaned back against the rock you’d used as a back rest while you fished and looked out at the setting sun’s reflection on the water. Mentally, you took notes of all the things you were good at. Sure, Katara could move water, Toph could fling rocks, Zuko could conjure fire, and Aang… well Aang was the avatar. But you were a master fighter, capable of taking down ten men with your bowstaff alone. Not only that but you were highly skilled in hand to hand combat. Since your father had been a high commanding officer in the vigilante brigade in your village against the fire nation before he was arrested, he’d instilled a lot of knowledge crucial to survival, on and off the battlefield. Things like scavenging and foraging, making shelter and weapons from next to nothing, battle strategy, natural healing remedies, and keeping a good head in combat were all things that came naturally to you. The bender’s didn’t have that.

Yes, they were amazingly gifted and talented people but they relied on their abilities for all things. You were able to do almost just as much, if not more, without the powers. Sokka was right: you two were total badasses.

When you looked back at him, he was sharpening his blade on the rocks and then held it up to the light to inspect it, repeating the process a few times. An idea popped into your head and you looked over at him coyly, “Y’know, Sokka, we are total non-bending badasses. But we don’t know who’s the best non-bending badass.”

Sokka side eyed you suspiciously, “Is that a challenge?”

You sighed and leaned back, stretching your body out to show how little you were afraid of him, “Yeah, I think it is. Unless, you’re scared you’ll lose.” You taunted, knowing the rise you were getting out of your best friend.

Sokka was well aware of what you were doing but he couldn’t resist the temptation of a little friendly battle. “I’m not scared!” His voice cracked, making his comment harder to take seriously, “Just be warned. There’s only gonna be two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the ground.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles and back as he spoke.

“Oh, is that so? Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is Water Boy?” You stood up too, grabbing your bowstaff and stamping it firmly onto the earth beside you.

He grabbed his boomerang and gripped it tightly. He stepped closer, his nose almost touching yours as he locked you into a glare-off, a twinkle of friendly competition in his vibrant blue eyes. You knew that friendly competition was sure to come with a “friendly” amount of scuffs and bruises to both the loser and the victor, though you were positive you’d be the latter of those two.

Sokka nearly growled as he spoke, raising his eyebrow in challenge, “It’s on.”

#sokka #sokka x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fics #atla fanfics #sokka imagine #sokka blurb #platonic #gender neutral

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westannatasharomanoff · 4 years ago

Note

Bruce babysits his cousin Jennifer's son and takes Natasha with him after she begged him to spend some time with her... she watches Bruce feed and play with the 1 year old boy and immediately falls inlove with the idea of having a family with him (hope this one could be long)

Sure.

*Bruce was working on something really important in the lab. He’d barely left in three days. Natasha walked in.*

Natasha: You’ve been holed up in here for days. I know your work is important, but you can't just ignore everything else in your life. Please take a break, I miss you.

Bruce: Just let me finish this.

Natasha: No. Doing the same thing for so long can’t be healthy. I want to spend time with you! I get lonely.

Bruce: How about this? Jennifer needs me to babysit her son tomorrow, and you can come with me then.

Natasha: Fine, but only because that’s the only way I can see you.

*The next day, they went to Jennifer’s house.*

Jennifer: Thanks again for agreeing to watch Asher. You’re a lifesaver.

Bruce: Anytime. I love hanging out with the little squirt. I hope you don’t mind that Nat wanted to come.

Jennifer: Of course not, the more the merrier. Oh, one more thing before I go, Asher is still teething, so he might bite you or something else he shouldn’t if you aren’t careful.

Bruce: I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on him.

*Jennifer left. Asher was sitting over in his bouncer. Bruce turned to the baby.*

Bruce: We’re going to have so much fun while your mommy runs errands. Do you want to fly?

*Bruce lifted the one-year-old out of the chair and Preteded to make him fly. The baby giggled. Over the course of the day, Natasha watched as Bruce fed, played with, and read to Asher. The more she watched them interact, the more convinced she was that she and Bruce needed a baby. That night at the store, she was drawn to several baby supplies because they were cute. She bought them along with the things on her list. The next day in the tower, Tony found a tiny sock with a giraffe on it on the coffee table. *

Tony: Where did this sock come from?

Thor: I have no idea.

Bruce: Maybe it's one of Steve’s training exercises.

Tony: Steve!

*Steve walked into the living room.*

Steve: Please tell me nothing’s on fire.

Tony: No, we were just wondering if this was yours.

Steve: Don’t be ridiculous, Tony. That sock obviously wouldn’t fit my foot. Maybe it belongs to one of Clint’s kids. Just leave it where you found it.

*The next day, there was inexplicably a baby bottle on the kitchen counter.*

Clint: Hey Tony, is Pepper pregnant?

Tony: I hope not, why?

Clint: There’s a yellow bottle on the counter, there was a baby sock on the coffee table yesterday, and I stepped on a stuffed elephant in the hallway this morning. The kind with ears that crinkle when a baby chews on them? Either Pepper’s pregnant or somebody is just putting random baby stuff all around the tower.

*Just then, Thor walked in carrying a mobile.*

Thor: What is the nature of this Earthly device I found on Lady Natasha’s dresser?

*Bruce choked on his coffee.*

Bruce: You found that where?

Thor: Lady Natasha loaned me a book, and I found this while I was returning it to her quarters. What is this contraption?

*Clint took the mobile from Thor and inspected it.*

Clint: That’s a baby mobile, but that doesn’t make sense. It is physically impossible for Nat to be pregnant. She was chemically sterilized.

*Natasha walked into the kitchen and Clint held up the mobile.*

Clint: Why do you have this?

Natasha: Oh, I bought it the other day. I thought it was cute.

Bruce: Did you also buy baby socks, an elephant teething toy, and a yellow bottle?

Natasha: Yes.

Bruce: Why?

Natasha: I thought they were cute. I figured we’re probably going to wind up having kids eventually, whether it’s through adoption, or surrogacy, or something else. It never hurts to be prepared.

Bruce: Why are you so obsessed with having a baby all of the sudden?

Natasha: You were so good with Asher the other day, and I figured you’d be even better with a baby of our own. I would have told you I wanted a baby, but I didn’t want to freak you out.

Bruce: You should have just talked to me about it. Also, you did freak me out. I thought you were pregnant and I about had a heart attack.

Natasha: I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you like a normal person.

Tony: You know, if you guys want to have a baby at some point but you don’t know when, I have a friend who needs some more volunteers for a study perfecting the science of IVG. It’s a technique that would allow infertile couples and same-sex couples to have biological children. He asked me if I knew anyone who would be interested in the study. I can tell him if you are.

Natasha: That sounds really interesting, but we should probably talk first.

Bruce: Yeah, we’ll talk about it and tell you later.

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mind-of-a-hardstan · 5 years ago

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Thief Pt. 3

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Flowershop au

Rating: G

Warnings: Language, mentions of infidelity ig?

Summary: You’re a flowershop owner with a soft heart, so when a handsome stranger comes to steal your flowers on Sundays, you let him. You even help him, because it’s clearly important.

Besides, you wouldn’t miss a few daisies a week.

Chapter summary: The man comes back to pick up his dead flowers and later comes back to tell his story, there are cute developments in Hoseok’s relationship and Jimin comes by early.

Word Count: 3.9K

Part one | Part two | Part Three

A/N: hehe finally done. Sorry for the long wait, folks. You’re gonna hear more for me within the next month :) please lemme know what you thought. This one’s a bit longer than the others and I didn’t proofread so please bare with me.

The little bell above your door rang at exactly six minutes to five on a Friday afternoon, and the sound wasn’t nearly as cheerful as it usually was.

The man who was there the day before stepped into the shop with a huge raincloud over his head. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying on his way to the shop.

“Hi,” the man said and you felt bad for wanting to laugh when a certain Ross popped into your head.

“Hi, oh my god, are you okay?” you said and stepped out from behind the counter. The man just shook his head. “Can I hug you?”

The man nodded.

Without thinking too much about it, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around the man. He was taller than you, and wider, but he seemed so small for a second. The man just rested his head on your shoulder and let his arms hang by his sides.

“You’ll be okay,” you said with a determined voice. The man pulled away and smiled at you with watery eyes.

“I know.”

“Good,” you said and patted his shoulder before going behind the counter again. “Because I made you a killer bouquet. She won’t know what hit her.”

“Damn right she won’t. I’m leaving her with a freaking bang.”

“Yes,” you said and reached for the bouquet that was stashed under the countertop, “And she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.”

You had put a lot of thought into this bouquet. Every flower that symbolised love and affection was in there, only dead, wilting or ugly. You did, however, add a few blooming tansies in there. It ended up being strangely beautiful, all in all, with the bright yellow flowers standing out against the varying shades of brown.

“Wow,” the man marvelled.

“Yep.”

“What are those?” he asked, pointing to the tansies.

“Those,” you said with a sly smile, “are tansies. They symbolize hatred. There is no better way to tell someone that they make you sick than with tansies. I figured blooming tansies made sense.”

“Genius,” the man whispered with awe.

“Don’t mention it.”

The man stared for a beat and you let him take his time. “It’s rather pretty,” he said with a bitter – still teary – smile.

“Yeah.” You felt really bad for him. If his girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend then he was betrayed from both sides. How do you bitch about your cheating girlfriend to your best friend if your best friend did the cheating?

He took a deep breath and reached for his wallet, successfully snapping you out of your train of thought too.

“Is there anything else I can do for you? Calming tea? Another hug?” you asked and punched the amount for the flowers in to the register. The man huffed out a laugh.

“Do you have vodka?”

“I finished the last bottle last night while crying over The Green Mile, I’m afraid.” Seokjin let out another squeaky laugh.

“Then tea would do. The same one from yesterday, please.”

“Sure.” You finished the transaction and gave him a warm smile when you handed him back his change. “Here you go. And hey, come back any time for more tea or for a hug if you need it. Let me know how it went, yeah? And I really mean that.”

The man nodded and took his flowers from the counter. “Thank you,” he said, voice cracking slightly.

“No problem.”

“Seokjin,” he blurted suddenly, “is my name. I’m Seokjin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Seokjin.”

“You too.”

The man gave you one last dashing – albeit somewhat teary – smile before he left.

You woke up earlier than you usually would on a Sunday morning. By the time the first rays of sunlight painted the world gold, you were already outside with a blanket around your shoulders and sweet tea on your lips to admire the scenery.

Naturally, that meant you were finished with your chores a lot earlier than you usually would be. By eleven, you were freshly showered and comfortably curled up with a book and fresh tea on the swing bench in your garden, waiting.

Jimin came earlier than usual today. A whole thirty minutes earlier. You watched him approach with a confused face. He was as handsome as ever, this time wearing slacks again, and looking as unsure as the first time.

He checked the time and his shoulders sagged before he looked around with a frown again. You got up off of the swing bench with a loud squeak of the chain, careful not to kick your mug, to check if he was okay. Jimin’s eyes snapped toward you in alarm before softening into a charming smile.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, waving. He jogged the last few metres to the fence with ease and a big smile.

“Hi,” he breathed back, meeting you at the fence.

“You’re early today,” you said cheerily. Jimin’s face fell a little.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. There was a problem with the bus lines today. There’s a construction site en route the one I usually take so I could choose between thirty minutes early and thirty minutes late,” Jimin explained, “And I chose early because I didn’t want to miss you today because I missed you last week and honestly I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

You giggled at the way Jimin trailed off into berating himself before he stopped speaking. He averted his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay. I can keep you company for a while before your appointment. Or date. Or… yeah. If you want.”

“Uh, yeah. Can – is that allowed?” he asked, caught off guard, eyes big. You laughed and looked at him with drawn eyebrows.

“Why wouldn’t it be ‘allowed’? Who would forbid it?”

Jimin covered his eyes, cheeks coloured pink in embarrassment, but there was a smile on his face. “I don’t know! I’m just unsure about whatever deal we have here. I just wanted to know if it’s really okay. Sorry it came out so weird.”

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Come in, if you want to.”

You opened the little gate in the garden fence and Jimin tentatively stepped inside of the little world that you had created for yourself. He looked around with big eyes and an awed expression. His lips formed a little “o” and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful his mouth was.

“Can I walk on the grass?” he asked and you nodded with a smile. It felt like your cheek muscles were constantly at work around him. Where Hoseok was bubbling happiness and puppy-like excitement, Jimin inspired a quiet happiness. A subtle warmth.

Dangerous. You didn’t know anything about him and the chances were high that he already had someone.

“I have a swing bench out here where we can sit. It squeaks a little, though. If that bothers you we can sit inside too. Or on the grass, wherever you want.”

“The swing bench sounds fine, I don’t mind. Your garden is beautiful,” Jimin said, voice soft. He made himself comfortable and you did the same on the other end of the bench, picking up your lukewarm tea off the ground. The chains squealed in protest and you made a mental note (which would probably be misplaced in your chaotic mind) to oil it.

“Thank you,” you said and looked around proudly. You built this. These flowers loved you enough to bloom like they do because you cared for them. “It’s my little paradise.”

“It really is like paradise. Makes me think that the Bible story didn’t happen like they said it did.”

“Huh,” you tilted your head to the side, “and how did you think it happened then?”

“Uh,” Jimin said and ran his hand through his hair, “After Adam and Eve ate the apple, God threw them out and gave the garden to a beautiful fairy to look after while he tried to sort them out.”

You threw your head back and laughed, making the bench swing a bit more. Jimin looked down, shy. That’s the second time he called you a fairy.

“You’re such a flirt, you know? You should come work in my shop for a week. I’d make a fortune.”

“How so?”

“Are you kidding me? With you saying things like that to strangers, people will flock to my shop paying you to take their flowers.”

Jimin giggled shyly, hiding his mouth behind his hand. You felt so endeared at watching him giggle. “You’re not a stranger anymore, though,” Jimin whispered.

“I guess you’re right.”

“And you’ve said nicer things to me than I’ve said to you,” he said, smile suddenly sly. You cocked your head in question. “A certain comment about ‘pretty thighs’ still sticks out to me.”

Embarrassment flooded your body like someone had poured hot honey into your veins. You covered your face with your hands and shook your head vigorously. You couldn’t believe that he remembered that. Not to mention that he would actually say it.

He was an exhilarating mix of shy and forward and it messed you up.

“No,” you simply replied, voice muffled by your hands.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Jimin laughed.

“I mean I will not be embarrassed in my own home. You have no right. Off with your head.”

Jimin laughed again and then a silence settled over your little garden. He leaned his head back on the lean of the bench and stared at the countless flowers with glittery eyes. He chewed his lip absentmindedly, angled his head this way and that as he observed.

The sun filtered through the colourful flower petals and made the already colourful garden glow even more vibrantly, like someone put a filter over reality. Somewhere a prism caused a little rainbow to glow on Jimin’s cheek.

You couldn’t help but be enamoured by him. He was simply beautiful with his little contradictions; angular features and soft lips, silky hair and sharp eyes. Those eyes. They were a contradiction themselves. Sharp, focused, analytic – and yet so, so soft. So full of soul – sunlight and shadows and rich soil.

So much potential for a blooming garden. Perhaps there already was one, hiding. Perhaps there were only thorn bushes and weeds.

“Your eyes are breath-taking,” you blurted and god damn it you really needed to stop accidentally complimenting him, what was wrong with you?

Jimin cast his eyes to you and a shy but pleased smile spread on his face. Not horrified, not surprised, not angry or scared off. You swallowed down your embarrassment for the umpteenth time around him and smiled back, blood still running cold in your veins.

“Thanks,” he said, voice turned to velvet, “so are you.”

“My – my eyes?” you stuttered out, caught off guard and so, so flattered.

“The whole you,” Jimin said smoothly, shy smile turned a little roguish, a little brave.

The grin that spread on your face was uncalled for and unauthorised. “Thank you.”

You sipped from your mug, tea now cold, while Jimin eyed two small songbirds dancing around each other in your lemon tree. A silence hovered while you listened to the birds sing, not uncomfortable but not entirely free of tension either.

After a few minutes like this, you became restless and put down your mug. You left the swing bench with protesting chains and grabbed the garden shears from the worktable a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked.

“Making your bouquet.”

“Wha – you don’t – I can –” Jimin struggled off of the bench, nearly tripping over his feet kicking over your now empty mug. He cursed, picked it up and sighed in relief when it was still whole. You looked away and suppressed the amused grin that threatened the corners of your mouth. You pretended not to have noticed.

“Don’t worry about it. I like arranging flowers for you.”

“I, uh – okay. Thank you.”

“Do you see any other flowers around here that you like? Or do you just want the daisies?”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” he checked again and you nodded. “What were those little blue ones you put in last time?”

“Forget-me-nots? These ones?” you pointed to the tiny blooms and he nodded.

“Yeah, those. They’re very pretty.”

“They are. They’re one of my favourites too,” you admitted while cutting them. “Forget-me-nots are meaningful little flowers too. You can put them into almost any bouquet and they’ll adapt to the meaning.”

Jimin sat back down on the bench and watched as you went about making his little bouquet. “What do they mean?”

“Like I said, lots of things. Remembrance, like the name suggests, through parting or death. They’re symbols of favourite memories. They symbolise loyalty through challenges, undying love or even a growing affection.”

“Wow. They really are meaningful little shits.”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “they are.”

“How do you even know all of this?” Jimin asked. You looked up from what you were doing and nearly had the breath knocked out of you. He sat with one leg crossed over the other and looked like damn royalty with the Ena Harkness roses climbing up the wall behind him. His pants strained over his legs, those goddamn dancer thighs, and those sharp, focused eyes were fixed on you.

You longed to know what was going on in his head.

“My – my, um.” You closed your eyes and shook your head to clear it. Oh, how you longed for him to look at you liked he looked at your garden. You shook your head again, only to find Jimin looking at you with an amused grin. “My granddad had a garden when he was still alive,” you finally got out, “It was normal sized but god, mine doesn’t even come close to what he had. He somehow managed to freaking grow edelweiss, it was incredible. I loved it there. I loved spending time with him in his garden, and he taught me all about the plants their meanings. He even knew their Latin names by heart. I still struggle with those, though.”

“Wow that sounds incredible. He sounds like he was a cool guy.”

“He was. He was the only grandparent that I had, the others had all died before I was born.” You swallowed down the memories and spoke again before Jimin could say something, “Do you see any other flowers that you like?

“All of them,” Jimin said with a smile and looked raked his eyes over the blooming garden again, “but I need to get going soon, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You’re always welcome, Jimin. I enjoy your company.” You handed him the bouquet, now tied with string and with a few greens sneaked in. When he took it from you and his fingers brushed yours, you couldn’t help but think how cliché it was that you noticed how soft his hands were.

“I enjoy yours too,” he whispered, then stuffed his nose into the flowers, breathing deep.

“They don’t smell that good,” you said with laughter lining your words.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, coming up for fresh air, “they don’t. They just smell like… plants.” You laughed for real this time.

“I’ll make you one that smells like honey next time.”

“Wha – no, no you don’t – you don’t have to, that’s not –” Jimin started, sounding slightly panicked.

“I want to,” you cut him off. He stopped talking, ran a hand through his hair shyly and nodded.

“Thank you.”

“You’ve thanked me enough for one day, I think,” you giggled.

“My half hour is almost up…” Jimin said after a moment of silence.

“Wait, before you go, hold on.”

You disappeared through the door of a little greenhouse attached to your home. The smell of tea was almost overpowering when you opened the next door to the backroom of your little shop.

You grabbed one of the little sample teabags – lemon-mint – and rushed back outside through the greenhouse.

“Here!” you said, waving the bag at Jimin who was already at the gate, ready to leave. He stared with round eyes. “Tea. I make my own tea,” you clarified.

“Oh, no, first the flowers, I can’t accept –”

“I hand these out for free anyway. Try it, and if you like it then you know where to find me. This one’s rather good when you let it cool down, though. Like, as an iced tea,” you babbled. He took the tea from you with another grateful smile. “Don’t say ‘thank you’ again.”

Jimin laughed and said, “I express my gratitude to thee.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thin ice.”

“Seriously, though. Thank you. I can’t help but wonder why you’re so nice to me when I stole from you.”

“I don’t know. It’s obvious that the flowers are for something important. And you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I won’t pry, but these flowers make someone happy. That’s the reason they’re there. Besides, I like you, you’re nice.”

Jimin had a bashful little smile on his face by the time you were done. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and said, “So are you. You deserve the happiness in you inspire, little fairy.”

By the time the star struck feeling of his words wore off, Jimin was already walking away.

You were almost too invested in conversation with Seokjin to hear the bell above the door ring on a Tuesday afternoon, and definitely too invested to react.

“Are you kidding me?! He was half naked on her couch when she knew she had a date with you?”

“I swear to god. She said that ‘it’s not what it looks like’ and that she ‘forgot that I was coming.’ And then Wooseok just awkwardly slunk out of the house and sort of like, slapped my shoulder in a sort of bro way, yaknow? Like, ‘hi, best friend whose girl I just fucked, good luck with this situation that I helped create.’ Then he left. She started having a breakdown that I shouldn’t leave her. I just smiled at her and said, ‘hey, don’t worry, I know.’ And she went all ignorant, like ‘what do you mean?’” Seokjin rapidly went on, talking like a waterfall in raining season.

“How optimistic of her to think feigning ignorance would still work when you literally just caught them and she literally just had a breakdown.” you shook you head and filled up your glass with the ice tea you’d wordlessly provided when he started talking after buying another pack of tea.

“What freaking tea party did I just walk into?” Hoseok’s voice rang through the shop and – oh. The bell above the door had rung. Seokjin jumped and let out a little yelping noise.

“Seokie, hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. This is Seokjin. He’s telling me the story of how he broke up with his cheating girlfriend. In how much of a hurry are you?”

“None at all. I’m sorry to hear that, man.” He ran put his hand on Seokjin’s shoulder in sympathy.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Hoseok, by the way. Mind if I eavesdrop while looking around?” Hoseok said with a charming smile and Seokjin chuckled and shook his head.

“Not at all.”

“Okay, okay, enough chit chat, tell me more,” you interrupted, bouncing on your toes to draw attention back to you.

“Right,” Soekjin said and sipped his iced tea before continuing his story. “Where was I? Right, so she was like ‘what do you know?’ and I didn’t answer at first, I just handed her the flowers and I smiled at her, yaknow? After actually seeing them together, I was just so angry that it didn’t even hurt anymore. So I gave her the flowers and she looked so confused and so dumb with her smeared lipstick. And she was like ‘I don’t understand, they’re dead.’ Like yeah, no shit Sherlock.”

“Wait,” Hoseok interrupted from behind another shelf of flowers, “You gave your girlfriend dead flowers to break up with her after you found out she was cheating?”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit that’s such a respectable level of petty.”

“Thank you, I do my best,” Seokjin took another sip of his ice tea and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Anyway, so I told her that they’re dead like my love for her and that I’m breaking up with her. And then, like the dumbass she is, she was all like ‘no wait! These yellow ones are still alive! That’s got to mean something’ and I looked her dead in the eyes and said ‘those are tansies and they mean fuck you.’ And then I left her house.”

The sound that broke out of you could barely pass for a laugh. You cackled like a witch and you barely registered Hoseok dying on the other side of the shop too.

“Oh my god, that’s genius,” you wheezed. Seokjin seemed to thrive under the laughter caused by him, proudly downing the rest of his tea.

It took a moment for both you and Hoseok to catch your breaths. When you did, Seokjin put his glass down and said, “I have to go, though. Thank you for everything, Y/n.”

“No problem, Seokjinnie. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“Hold on,” Hoseok said, jogging up to Seokjin with a blue and purple bouquet in one hand while digging his phone out of his pocket with the other. “Give me your number. A friend of mine is throwing a housewarming party next weekend, if you’re keen. He said I could bring as many people as I want, which was a mistake on his part honestly.”

Seokjin typed his number into Hoseok’s phone and handed it back with a smile. “Send me the details. It sounds fun.”

With a final wave, Seokjin walked out of the shop.

“Remember what I said about customers coming back because of you rather than flowers? That looks like such a situation,” Hoseok said with a roguish grin.

“Oh, hush. Give me the flowers so I can get you to leave.”

“Ouch, are you always this mean with customers?”

“Just the ones who want to set me up with other customers.” You rang up his flowers and despite yourself, there was a fond smile on your face, your imagination conjuring a cute picture of Hoseok standing in someone’s doorway with a bright smile and a hand full of warm flowers.

He seemed so happy, and that made you happy. Perhaps Hoseok had really gone from customer to friend.

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Can I place an order for next week?”

“Of course you can.”

“You know flower meanings well, right?” Hoseok asked, suddenly seeming nervous.

“Yes. It’s part of the job description,” you said with a soft giggle.

“For Thursday, can you put together a bouquet that signifies love but also, like – something that says I’ll be careful with you. I’ll take care of you. Do you know what I mean?”

Hoseok’s face was always open and honest. When he was angry or unhappy, it was clear as day. When he was happy – which was more common – the whole world could feel it. Right now, there was nothing but love. Clear fondness and love.

You thought quietly that whoever was on the receiving end of that love was the luckiest person alive. It brought a smile to your face.

Seeing your friend like this made you happy.

“I have a few ideas already,” you said, “I’ll have them ready for you on Thursday, pick them up whenever you need them.”

“Thank you, Y/n. I mean it, you’re the absolute best.”

“Don’t mention it.”

#magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts fanfic #flower shop #flower shop au

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horrorkingdom · 4 years ago

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Horror story 👻

Creepy Things Kids Say

Creepy things kids say to their parents. An internet forum posed a question: “What is the creepiest thing your child has ever said to you?” The responses were scary, spooky, disturbing and chilling:

A friend of mine’s child told him, “Daddy, I love you so much that I want to cut your head off and carry it around so I can see your face whenever I want.”

My 3-year old daughter was standing over her newborn baby brother, looking at him. Then, she turned to me and said, “Daddy, it’s a monster… We should bury it.”

My cousin used to freak he mom out as a child. Whenever her mom would ask her why she did something mean or wrong she would whisper, “The devil told me to do it!”

I was babysitting for a little girl and she asked where I had parked my car. I pointed out the window to my car across the street. She looked at me and said, “Go to it without looking both ways.” I asked her why and she replied, “I want to see someone die.”

One night, I was tucking in my 2-year old son. He said “Goodbye, Dad.” I corrected him, “No, we say goodnight.” He replied, “I know… But this time it’s goodbye…” I had to come back and check on him a few times during the night to make sure he was still there.

My 3-year old son was cuddling with his grandmother. He took her face in his hands, and stared straight into her eyes and said, “You’re very old and you will die soon.” Then he made a point of looking at the clock.

My little girl went through a phase where she would just constantly say ‘Hi’ to things. “Hi hi hi hi hi hi” One day, it sound sounded strange, so I asked her, “What’s that you’re saying?” She turned to face me and just whispered “Die die die die die diiiieeeeeee…….”

My niece was sleeping over at my parents’ house one night. She had all the lights on in the spare bedroom. I asked her if she was afraid of the dark, and she said, “No. I am afraid of what is in the dark.”

My 5-year old daughter said, “Mommy, when you die I want to put you in a glass jar so I can keep you and see you forever!” My 6-year old son laughed and replied, “That’s stupid. Where are you gonna find a jar that big?”

My 3-year old daughter was holding her newborn baby brother for the first time. She looked up at me and asked innocently, “So, I shouldn’t throw him in the fire?”

My sister was pregnant and we were having a conversation at the dining room table. My 4-year old son asked my sister if there was a baby in her belly. She told him there was. He slid out of his chair and headed for the kitchen, saying, “We need to get it out. I’ll go get the knife.”

When my son was little, I would sometimes hold him down and pretend to eat his face, saying, “nom nom nom.” One day, he said, “I’ll never eat your face, Mommy. I’ll cut it off and wear it as a mask…”

My 5-year old cousin drew a picture of a hideous, black monster. Then, she looked up at me and said, “He told me to draw this… He’s coming for you… You better hide…”

When I was about 3 years old, our cat had kittens, but they all died. I asked my father if we could make crosses for them, which he did. As he was making them I asked, “Aren’t those too small?”

Dad: “What do you Mean?”

Me: “Aren’t we going to nail them to them?”

(Several moments silence)

Dad: “we’re not going to do that”

My mom loves to tell this story: Apparently when I was 5 or 6, I told her that aliens had stolen her real son and replaced him with me, an exact copy. I said that someday, I would return to my home planet, but she shouldn’t be sad, because her real son was having a good life in our zoo.

My little cousin was thrown out of a Catholic preschool because he took off his shoe and told one of the nuns, “Shut up or I’ll take out your eye with my shoe, because I’m the son of the devil!” Apparently that was the last straw.

I was awoken from a deep sleep at around 6 AM. My 4-year old daughter was standing over me and her face was inches from mine. She looked right into my eyes and whispered, “I want to peel all your skin off”. For a few seconds I was terrified. In my sleep addled state, I didn’t know if I was dreaming or what was going on. Then, I realized what she was talking about. I had been sunburned the previous week and my skin was starting to peel.

My niece was sitting on the couch with a weird look on her face. I asked her what she was thinking about and she said, “I’m imagining the waves of blood rushing over me.” As it turns out, they had just come back from a local science museum. There was an exhibit on the circulatory system of blood in the human body.

My 3-year old son was telling me there was a man in his room. “Mommy,” he said. “The man has big yellow eyes and he is looking at you.” I tried to tell him there was no man and my son just told me, “Oh he is hiding now.” Two minutes later, he said, “Oh no Mommy, you made him very mad. Now he says he will come when you are sleeping.” Some time later, he told me, “I’m not going to be four. I’m doing to die and you will put me down, down, down in the hole.” I assured him that wasn’t true and asked who had told him that. He got very quiet and replied, “The man told me. But I will be scared, so after three nights you will die too and come with me.”

I was in the basement of my friend’s house with her 2-year old son. He took my hand, led me over to a brick chimney that had a rusty metal door on it and said, “That’s where the dead babies go…”

I was looking at houses with my brother and his 3-year old son. As we passed the school, the little boy said “If you buy a house here, that’s where your kids will go to school!” Then, we passed a pool and the little boy said, “And that’s where your kids will go to the pool!” Then, we passed a cemetery and he said, “And that’s where you’ll bury your kids!”

One night, when my daughter was 4, I overheard her talking in her room. I poked my head in and asked if she was talking to me. “No,” she replied. “I was talking to the little boy who lives in my closet… He’s dead.”

I jokingly asked my little cousin, “What’s the best way to get a girlfriend?” His response was, “Tell her to be my girlfriend or she’ll never see her parents again.”

One day, totally out of the blue, my 5-year old son said, “Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were OK when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn’t!”

One day, my 3-year old son hugged my wife and said, very seriously, “Mom, I promise I won’t ever chew on your bones…”

My 5-year old daughter had night terrors and she would sometimes scream in her sleep. One night, I said “Mommy’s here. It’s OK.” She looked right at me and screamed, “Mommy? But who is that behind you?”

A few months ago, my 3-year old daughter was playing outside in our backyard. My wife was sitting on the back step and my daughter came up and asked her if she could play with the little girl on our slide. My wife said, “I don’t see any little girl” and my daughter said, “She’s right over there on the slide, Mom. Can’t I play with her?” My wife said, “I don’t see anyone” but my daughter kept insisting, “She’s on the slide and she is blue. Can I play with her?” My wife was freaked out said, “Let’s just go inside and get a snack.” For the rest of the day, my daughter kept looking out the back door, telling my wife that the little blue girl was lonely.

When my brother was very young, he was sleepwalking. My mom was trying to get him to go back to bed. He said, “I would, but the devil is behind you…”

One day, my 4-year old son said, “My brain is telling me to do things I don’t want to do.” I just hope his brain wasn’t telling him, “Burn them! Burn them all!”

As a child I would tell my parents daily that they were not my real parents and that my real parents died in a train accident. At first, they thought it was cute, but after a few months of this, they had to put a stop to my story.

Out of the blue, my 2-year old daughter said, “If you’re quiet you’ll stay alive.” I still have no clue where that came from.

My daughter and her friend were talking about dinosaurs. I asked her, “If you were a T-Rex, what would you eat?” She got very serious, looked me right in the eyes and said, “Children… I’d eat children.”

Last week, my 5-year old son asked me, “What do you see through the black circles in my eyes when you’re controlling me when I’m at school?”

My 5-year old son gave me a card he’d made at school. On the front, it said, “How you see yourself”. He had drawn a picture of me walking in a meadow. I was surrounded by blue skies, a blazing sun, green grass and butterflies. There was a big smile on my face. Inside, it said, “How you really are”. There was a picture of me in a jail cell, gripping the bars and crying.

I work in a preschool there is a small toy kitchen in our classroom that the kids use for playing house. There was one little girl who was playing with a baby

, rocking it back and forth and singing to it. Suddenly, she shoved it into the toy oven, slammed the door shut, turned to me and said, “Sometimes bad babies go in timeout!”

My mother told me that when I was a little girl, I saw some guy at the grocery store and started screaming and crying. It was so bad we had to leave and when we got back to the car, my mom asked what was wrong. I told her he took me away from my first mom and hid me under his floor and made me sleep for a long time until I woke up with my new mom. It totally freaked my mother out.

My daughter told me that there is a woman in her bedroom who watches her and sleeps on the ceiling above her bed. She also says the woman doesn’t like me and wants to eat my heart.

A few days after my dad passed away, my mother and I were awoken in the middle of the night by a furious banging noise. We went downstairs to find my little sister desperately trying to open the back door, yelling, “He wants back in! We have to let him back in!”

We had a small fire in the backyard and my baby cousin picked up a branch, lit it on fire and stared at it for a few minutes, muttering “burn…..burn….BURN!” Eventually, as the whole stick caught fire he started laughing maniacally and yelling in a deep demonic voice, “BUUURRRNNNNINNNGGGG! BUURRRNNNINGGGG! BUUURRRNNN!!!!” It was terrifying.

My mother told me that, when I was a child, I asked her what it was like to die. When she said she didn’t know, I told her not to worry because I’d find out when I was 21.

My aunt was very sick and my wife and I were talking about the cost of making arrangements for the funeral. Our 4-year old son walked in and said, “Why don’t you just set her on fire?” As it turned out, that’s how he thought cremation worked.

We were collecting my mother-in-law at the airport. While we were waiting, my husband picked up our son and joked about tossing him over the railing. On the way home in the car, our son spent the next 3 hours making a booklet titled, “All the Times My Dad Has Tried To Kill Me”. There were illustrations showing him in all sorts of peril, including being flushed down the toilet by my husband. My mother-in-law was horrified.

I was making dinner and my 5-year old niece casually walked through the kitchen and said, “I’ll get you, and I’ll make it look like a bloody accident”. It scared the heck out of me, but later I found out she was quoting a line from The Cat in the Hat.

I asked my 3 kids what they wanted to do when they grew up. My 10-year old said, “I want to be a teacher!” My 8-year old said, “I want to be a writer!” My 6-year old said, “I want to run the machine that cuts the heads off chickens!”

I was giving my 6-year old daughter a bath and she a couple of Barbies in the tub with her. One of the Barbies had no head. The head was floating in the water. I asked her to reattach the head because it was creepy. She responded, “Why Mom? It’s not REAL. If it was real, the bath would be full of blood, and THAT would be creepy…”

One night, I was reading my 3-year old niece a bedtime story and I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was dark and eerily silent. There was a nightlight on. I turned over and saw my niece. Her eyes were wide open and she was staring at me. Then, she whispered, “How did you get out of your box?”

I asked my nephew what he was drawing and he replied, “A skeleton-making machine”. On further inspection I saw that he hadn’t drawn a skeleton making machine but rather a flesh removal machine, complete with screaming naked men and a channel for the blood. Creepy.

My wife and I were giving our daughter a bath one night, when all of a sudden, she said, “You humans brought me here!” It took us four months to figure out that it was a line she heard in a movie.

Late one night, I was sitting at my friend’s kitchen table when her daughter walked into the kitchen and said, “Mommy, when I was older I crashed the car and died. Can I have something to drink?” My friend calmly gave her daughter a glass of milk and sent her off to bed. It gave me the chills, but my friend didn’t want to talk about it. She started crying and told me never to bring it up again.

When I was 6 years old, we moved house. I said my mother, “The lady who use to live here told me that she hates the wallpaper and you are covering up her note.” She just thought it was childish rambling and forgot all about it. Twelve years later, my mother was redecorating the house. She took down the wallpaper in the attic and found a suicide note scratched into the wall.

When my mother was pregnant, my little brother came into the room and pointed a nerf gun at her stomach. “Oh, no! Don’t shoot me!” my mom said playfully. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he replied. “I’m not trying to kill you, I’m just trying to kill the baby.”

A friend of mine brought her 3-year old son over to my apartment. I asked him what his favorite holiday was. He replied, “I like Halloween because I like candy and death!”

I was minding my own business, working in the garage when the door creaked open and my 2-year old son popped his head in and asked, “Daddy, are you dead yet?” I replied, “No…?” and then he just slowly closed the door.

I was at a friends house when his 4-year old cousin was getting ready to go to bed. He walked around, giving everyone a goodnight hug. I said to him, “Sweet dreams!” He stopped at the top of the stairs, turned around and with a very serious face said, “I’ll control your dreams and make them nightmares…”

My son was 4 and his sister was almost 2. I had to go to a meeting and I couldn’t read them a bedtime story. I promised I would read them two the following night to make up for it. My son said, “It’s ok, Mom, Auntie Tracy will read to us”. I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck. “Who?” I asked. “Auntie Tracy, Mom,” he said. “She looks just like you. After we go to bed she reads and sings to us”. I had never told them that I was an identical twin and my sister died at birth. Her name was Tracy.

My wife was making a sandwich for our 4-year old son. He was watching her really intently and she asked what he was doing. He replied, “I’m watching you make a sandwich… so I know how to do it when you die.”

While I was cooking dinner one evening, my 4-year old daughter came in and wanted to help. “You’re not going to touch the stove, are you?” I asked. “No,” she replied. “Do you know why you shouldn’t touch the stove?” I asked. She looked at me and, in a very serious tone, replied, “Because I might get burned and die and then you’d have to eat me.”

I was blowing my nose into a tissue and my 6-year old daughter asked if she could see it. I said no and she responded with, “I promise I won’t eat it”.

#horror #horror community #creepy #creepy photo #scary kids #spooky #creepypasta #ghosts #ghost adventures #ghost stories #horrorkiller #horror kingdom #horror stories

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mangacupcake · 5 years ago

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My baby yugi au! Explained!!!

I’ve drawn somethings related to this AU I came up with

This is not kink related or anything like that

it is all just for fun and cuteness... plz enjoy!!

Instead of going into the afterlife, when Atem tried to past through he heard everyone scream and turned around and Yugi, Bakura, and Marik were gone...

The only thing left was a pile of their clothes

Atem didn’t want to leave without finding yuugi(so he put off dying again)

Ishzu and Odeon were freaking out cause shiiit Yami marik is back.. and marik is nowhere to be seen

Only he's freaking cause how can he be here??? He was sent to the shadow relm?????

Atem noticed thife king!bakura is here, and well as the spirt of the millieum ring...

Everyone is confused, then a head pops out of yuugi’s clothes...

And it’s yuugi???

Sogoruku kinda freaks cause this was his grandson, but like he was a baby????

Except yuugi was able to walk over to the Atem to say good bye. Or rather good bye in babbles and baby talk but Atem understood it was good bye...

The suddenly Ryou is pulled out his clothes by the thife king and he is,,,, just like, ,, ,,trying to get baby Ryou to stop chewing on the milkieum ring that’s,,,,,, an evil artifact - d o n o t e a t I t c h I l d

Ishizu kneels down and Marik pops up, happy and laughing, odieon passes out( from cuteness) and his Yami as well as the other two yamis are like

Whisky

Tango

Foxtrot

No one knows what happened

But they have to take care of the babies

And get bakura to stop chewing on the milliem ring cause you know it’s E v i L

Thief king Bakura, Atem and Yami marik almost throw hands when they all saw each other not gonna lie

Sogoruku was able to calm down Yugi, marik, and Bakura since he practically had to raise Yuugi on his own...

but he’s not able to hold them for very long since he’s not the as young as he once was

and his joints hurt more than they did when Yuugi was first born...

On the plane ride home Thife king Bakura bonds with Baby Ryou, trying to get him to not eat the ancient evil Egyptian artifact the whole plane ride home

Yami Bakura tries to take the ring from Ryou and Ryou just s c r e a m s...

He’s really attached to that ring for some reason...

Marik mostly takes to a Ishizu and Odeion since they are the only people he remembers from his childhood he doesn’t really like being held by his Yami

And his Yami doesn’t like holding him

His time in shadow relem weakened him so he’s not able to be evil (for the time being)

Yugi is better at singing with his Yami and his friends.

He likes anyone holding him (cause he’s baby🥺) but really he likes it since he knows he hurts his grandpa

Joey is fun to play with, all the babies like him and Joey talks to them like they’re all still teens.

Tea is a close second to baby yuugi since she speakers softer than Joey brokenlyn rage Andre likes it when she lets him see the trading cards she brought along and hold then In his chubby hands

Atem is his absolute favorite caretaker since he doesn’t Mind when he chews on his finger or tugs at his hair

Rather Atem smiles and says, “ you took care of me abio, so it’s my turn now...

Yuugi doesn’t know why that makes him happy but it does

Marik is second in care since odeion remembers taking care of him when was a baby and their father wanted nothing to do with Marik until he could speak

Ishizu Vowing to not let him down this time around...

The Bakuras are a totel mess... a chaotic mess

Thief king vaguely Remembers his mother taking care of some babies before Atems father killed her

Yami only knows Bakura when he was in kindergarden so A baby is out of his relem of expertise

But in a few years when they get to kindergarden he’s got it in the bag...

Neither of the Bakuras want baby Ryou to die or get crabby with them so they just have no idea what to do

Luckily all the babies like Atem and everyone but those two knows how to take care of babies

But on their own they the Theif King and Yami Bakura are the deffionition of:

Thief king: I thought you had ryou

Yami Bakura: I though you had ryou...

Turns out the two of them share a brain cell

And Ryou had control of all their brains cells all along

Which sucks cause friggin no one can get him to stop chewing on the ring,,,,,,

@vivinightingale here’s some backround on my Baby!Au

#baby au #yugioh #90s anime #anime #anime memes #anime memez #yu gi oh #yugioh duel monsters #ishizu ishtar #marik ishtar #odion ishtar #pharoh atem #tea gardner #triston taylor #joey wheeler #thife king bakura #yami bakura #ryou bakura #yuugi mutou

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scandalsavagefanfic · 5 years ago

Note

2/2 Also I have a question does anyone from Jason's harem have feelings for him, or they all just here for pretty boytoy?

I’m answering part 2 of this question first because I have some ideas for part 1.

Short answer is, yes. Most of them actually care about him in one way or another. Not people like Lex of course. Slade doesn’t have feelings for Jason but he likes the kid as much as he likes anyone. But the Justice League love him and they’re very protective. The al Ghuls love him. Ra’s has more romantic interest than Talia but they’d both kill someone for hurting him.

And of course a certain Green Lantern gets sucked in, despite his best efforts.

Which brings me to the long answer. Here’s the first of two chapters about how Jason’s harem actually appreciates him for more than just his sexy skills.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Part 4 - Read All Parts on AO3!!!

Words: 2085

Warnings: None

Nothing explicit in this chapter. Just softness.

_____________________________________________

Kyle racks up a startling number of favors owed in a startlingly short amount of time.

If he’s honest with himself–which he generally tries to avoid on principle; if you can’t lie to yourself, what’s the point?–he might be more interested than he likes to let on. But he assures himself over and over that he’s not doing anything that everyone else isn’t doing.

Hell, even Hal is hooking up with Jason.

Though… Kyle doesn’t think Jason is purposefully trying to give Wayne a heart attack, he’s just doing what he needs and wants to do. But Kyle is positive Hal is definitely fucking with Batman as much as he fucking Jason. Kyle would bet his tiny apartment on the fact that at least 25% of the attraction for his predecessor is sticking it to the Bat.

Alright… maybe Jason does get a little joy out of Wayne’s discomfort.

That said, no matter what he tells himself, Kyle is all too aware of the fact that Jason gets something out of every rendezvous.

Except the ones with him.

They both know the favors were just an excuse, even if neither of them would admit it.

It takes months before Jason finally starts calling them in. And when he does it’s in small ways.

Requests for backup are expected when they come.

But then Jason uses one to ask Kyle to pick up take out from Jason’s favorite hole in the wall in Hong Kong “on his way over”.

He uses another just to get to see Oa–the Guardians were not thrilled to have a “tourist”–and Kyle found it was actually enjoyable showing Jason around. He was amused and a pleasantly surprised when Jason hit it off easily with Kilowag. Far less surprised (and far less amusing) when they visited Guy and Arkillo and it was like the three of them had known each other for years.

Of all the little things Jason uses his favors for, Kyle’s favorites are the massages. They almost always lead to more and it hasn’t escaped Kyle’s attention that when they do, Jason doesn’t count it.

Even when it doesn’t lead to a round of increasingly… affectionate sex, he still gets to work pleasantly scented oil into the astounding number of giant knots plaguing the rippling muscle under Jason’s warm, scarred skin.

Both scenarios usually end the same way too. With Jason dozing off and snuggling close as Kyle uses his ring to get the lights.

He’s reasonably certain that none of Jason’s other arrangements get to stay the night.

They’re both intelligent, capable men. They know what this is. What it’s become. What it could morph into.

But Kyle’s too stubborn to voice it and Jason is too, even if he wasn’t cripplingly insecure about shit like this.

Still, it hadn’t really hit him how bad he has it until now. Until he slowly crawled out of bed, careful not to wake the other man, showered, and exits the bathroom to what he can only describe as an ethereal view.

Jason is laying on his front, arms tucked under the pillow, breathing slowly and evenly. His mouth is slightly opened, a small dark spot on the pillowcase where he’s drooled a little. The sunlight pours into the room between the opened slats of the blinds. One band illuminates the mop of wild black curls, making the thinner edges glow golden like a halo. Several more stretch across the width of his broad shoulders, his rib-cage, his tapered waist. The soft cotton sheet has slid low, sitting atop the perfectly rounded rise of Jason’s butt, the sea-green edge perfectly angled with the blade of light. The last one shines warm and orange over his toes, peeking out from under the soft cotton sheet.

Sketching is like breathing to Kyle. He’ll doodle on napkins or receipts, anything with a little space, of anything with a little beauty.

He doesn’t pay much attention to the paper he swipes from Jason’s open file folder. Just enough to note that there was nothing on the back.

That’s how he finds himself drawing Jason while he sleeps. Painstakingly smoothing over the line for the arch of Jason’s spine, the curve of his ass. Lovingly capturing the shape of his lips, the thick, dark fan of his eyelashes.

It’s while he carefully adds every scar from memory that Kyle realizes just how deep he’s gone.

His hand goes still and he glances up to Jason’s face with the surprise of the sudden understanding.

Then he jumps so hard he drags the pencil through the drawing.

Jason is laying there awake, bright eyes watching but otherwise still as he was when Kyle started.

“Jesus,” Kyle hisses, trying to collect himself. “Scared me half to death. How long have you been awake?”

Not very long if the soft, groggy smile Jason gives him is any indication.

“Just a couple of minutes,” Jason answers, voice husky from sleep (and the way Kyle made him scream last night).

Kyle cringes internally. A couple of minutes is a long freaking time to not notice.

“You had your focused face on,” Jason continues, shifting a little to stretch like a cat. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“My what now?”

Jason turns onto his side, clearly in no rush to get out of bed, and smirks at him.

“When you’re really into what you’re doing, your brow pinches and you either chew your lip or, honest to god, stick your tongue out. It’s cute.”

Kyle scowls. “Puppies are cute. I’m a badass, space cop.”

With a snort, Jason sits up against the headboard and runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say, officer.”

And fuck if that doesn’t give Kyle all kinds of ideas.

“What were you doing?” Jason asks, attention trained down at the book Kyle was using as a hard surface.

“Uh… nothing.” He tries to think of how he can hide it from the other man. Even to an untrained eye, the emotion in it is obvious. And Jason knows a surprising amount about art. Kyle would much rather never become more than this than risk losing what they have.

Jason’s smirk turns mischievous and there’s an amused glint in his eyes. “Drawing me like one of your French girls?"

The little huff of laughter Kyle manages does nothing to hide the rapid shot of color to his cheeks. His "no” is weak and unconvincing.

“Well, come on, Rayner. Let me see?”

Kyle’s breath freezes in his chest and he hesitates, clutching the sheet of cheep printer paper closer to him.

“Dude, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Jason taunts.

It’s not bad at all. That’s the problem.

It might be the best thing Kyle’s ever drawn.

He swallows hard and braces himself. Then gets up and sits on the edge of the bed as he hands it over.

Watching the smile slip from Jason’s face feels like getting punched in the gut.

It’s over now. Kyle got too serious. The Pit left Jason with something he can’t fully control and he doesn’t want or need a partner. It doesn’t matter that Kyle would understand that Jason would still have to… do what he does. It doesn’t matter because the last thing Jason needs is some useless serious relationship cramping his style.

“Is… is this supposed to be me?"

The question surprises Kyle. Because it’s painfully obvious that the portrait is of Jason, down to the almost unnoticeable freckles across his nose and cheekbones. And the question is asked so timidly as Jason stares down at the sheet with wide eyes. Not an ounce of recognition.

"I couldn’t have made it more obviously you if it was a photo,” Kyle says lightly, hoping head off the worst of things.

But Jason stares for long moments, expression confused, until finally he pulls his eyes away to look up at Kyle.

“But I… I don’t look like this.”

Kyle blinks at him. “What? I mean… you don’t have a big, dark pencil line through you but–”

“No… I mean… this is… this is so…” He huffs. “It’s too… pretty. Didn’t really think you were the type to romanticize the subject. Sure you didn’t have Dickface on the mind?”

It’s defensive. Using humor to armor himself. Kyle can practically see the walls going up in Jason’s mind as he tries to rationalize things. As he tries to make what he’s seeing on the paper–what Kyle sees–fit with his own idea of himself.

Leaning in, Kyle takes Jason’s chin in one hand and pushes the book with the sheet of paper down to Jason’s lap while forcing Jason to look up at him.

“This is you, Jason. Every scar, every freckle, every bruise from last night. Just you. No one else.”

“But…”

“No. It’s beautiful because you’re beautiful,” Kyle says gently. Then he smirks. “And because I’m really talented. But I promise. That’s exactly what you look like.”

“To you maybe,” he grumbles, trying to turn away.

Kyle tightens his grip and gives a little tug to get Jason meet his eyes again.

“Yes. To me."

Jason’s eyes widen and he stops breathing.

"I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, Jason, but you’re objectively attractive,” Kyle continues. He looks into those vivid aquamarine irises and where once he would have bristled, felt the urge to challenge and compete, he softens. “And to me… you’re perfect.”

The room is deathly quiet. It seems like neither of them are even breathing.

Eventually Jason gulps and looks back down at the drawing.

Kyle glares at the headboard, kicking himself for letting things get this far; for having to come clean about his feelings; for putting Jason (and himself) in this awkward position. For letting their friends-with-benefits agreement slide into murkier waters. A lifetime ago, when he did have a stupid, ill-advised, youthful crush on Batman, he promised himself he’d never actually fall for any Bat. They were all bad news in one way or another.

So of course it’d be the asshole black sheep of the family, the biggest bad news of the bunch (except for maybe the punk kid who’s Robin now), who he’s going to have to get over.

An indignant noise from below him draws his attention back to Jason.

Jason who is glaring up at him.

Kyle shrugs and splays his palms open in surrender. “What?”

The drawing gets shoved in his face. Only it’s not the drawing. Its the other side. The side emblazoned with the Coast City Police Department logo.

“You drew on my police report, asshole!”

He searches Jason’s face. The younger man isn’t kicking him out; isn’t telling him off. Hell, Jason isn’t even asking that they just keep things casual. Kyle knows he can be clueless about this kind of stuff (Jason honestly believes Ra’s is only interest in him is the sex) but there was obvious understanding in that gemstone gaze when Kyle spilled his heart.

“Those aren’t supposed to leave the precinct. You shouldn’t even have it,” Kyle retorts.

Jason rolls his eyes so hard Kyle’s surprised they stay in his head. “No shit dumbass, that’s why I have to sneak it back in!”

Trying–and failing–to stop the smile tugging at his lips, Kyle says “Oh… whoops” and goes to shift back, put a little more space between them. But Jason’s hand snaps out and the next thing he knows he’s flat on his back with Jason towering over him, those fucking thighs straddling his hips

“Don’t worry,” Jason practically purrs, “you can make it up to me.”

“Oh no. What a great inconvenience,” Kyle smirks as Jason leans close.

The kiss is softer than usual. Less desperate; less demanding; less competitive.

“And then?” He whispers it against Jason’s lips when they part to get some air. He can’t help it. He has to know.

Jason hums and mouths at the pulse point in Kyle’s throat.

“And then I’ll be hungry so you can take me to breakfast.”

He swallows hard against that talented tongue and the pointed roll of Jason’s hips against his groin.

“A favor?” he asks, hardly daring to hope.

Jason kisses his mouth again before answering, cheeks bright red and eyes averted. “A date… if you want.”

Kyle threads his fingers into the curls that stick up every which way and when he pulls Jason into the next kiss, it’s got all the desperation of the ones before and then some.

“I want.”

#Jason Todd #Kyle Rayner #JayKyle #jason/justice league #I have to find a better tag for this stuff #fluffy #Anonymous

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beerecordings · 5 years ago

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Wait what about Anti????? Does he not need therapy??????

haha, great minds think alike i guess! i actually got an ask about a softer Anti too, but I’ll talk about a more classic Anti first. cause he DEFINITELY needs therapy, but it’s not going to be easy to get him there.

a classic evil Anti is going to be in a padded room talking to a therapist through glass, institutionalized and imprisoned for whatever he did that was criminal enough to justify him being taken away from society but insane enough he’s not in a traditional prison. and at first the only reason he’d talk to this stupid therapist they keep sending to him is trying to scare him, freak him out, have something to play with while he waits to get back to Jack and the others to torment them instead. the therapist would have to be an expert in criminal therapy - unfazed, unintimidated, “i’ve seen worse and you don’t scare me, you tiny Irish bastard,” just quietly listening and asking a couple questions and adjusting his medication as needed.

and let’s assume this therapist has an effect.

suddenly Anti is getting quieter, getting less cocky, having trouble now, losing his self-confidence as all the dark thoughts he has find themselves in a more stable brain, and suddenly start to look as scary as they are. he’s a little doped up from heavy-duty meds to keep him under control and stop him from hurting himself, and he’s starting to get thin and very pale, sitting on his bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, mumbling about the boy, the boy, the boy, clutching at his throat, sometimes giving off soft cries, asking for somebody to come save him, he doesn’t know what’s happening, he doesn’t know what he is...

and this, this is interesting. this is where the therapist really gets to digging. “What are you, then, Anti? Do you remember your parents? A creator, but not your father? Tell me about him. Why did you try to kill him? What was going through your head in that moment?”

and he starts to realize he’s dealing with HUGE delusions, and not just the narcissism. Anti is paranoid, Anti is self-loathing, Anti is obsessed and convinced that he needs to kill someone to get enough attention to survive, to have revenge on him for creating him as some broken error. He believes he’s some kind of demon, computer virus, copy of a man???

so the therapist starts trying to find distractions.

“You don’t want to be in here anymore, do you, Anti? I know, I know. It’s okay, don’t claw at yourself like that. That’s what we’re working on, right? Well, why don’t we try thinking about something other than the boy with the bloody throat. I want you to try something for me, but you can pick what.”

“Try something?”

“A hobby or something. Not one of the habits the boy had, no drums or video games or anything like that. A hobby you picked.”

“A hobby or something?” snaps Anti, hiding with his face against the wall, rocking himself. “You’ve said a lot of stupid fucking shit, Casper - ” he NEVER calls Casper “Doctor” and they don’t know how he learned his first name - “but that has got to be the stupidest idea yet. I’m going to give you frostbite and make you choose between chewing off your own fingers and let the infection spread. I’m going to pull your ribs out and you’ll still be alive to watch me dissolve them in acid. I’m going to find that cute little wife of yours and next week she’ll be the one sitting here in this bed, and you will scream to see what I have made of her.”

And Casper’s unfazed. Unintimidated. Unafraid.

“I’ll be back next week,” he says. “You have a decision for me by then. I’ll have the nurses remind you, so you can think about it. You tell them if you need anything. You tell them if you need me.”

Anti shoves his forehead against his knees and does not wish him goodbye.

But next week, he has an answer.

“Want to knit,” he croaks.

“You’re not allowed have anything sharp, Anti.”

Anti doesn’t say anything. Fuck, but he looks white today. Fuck, but he’s shaking hard. Casper’s never seen him scared quite like this.

“How are you doing today?” asks Casper.

Anti’s pupils are blown. He stares at the wall, licking at his dry lips. Rubbing at his throat.

“Anti,” says Casper, a little louder. “The nurses said you’re not eating. Do you want to be put on a tube again?”

Anti makes this noise Casper has never heard before.

Almost like a sob.

Casper waits for a long time to see if he can calm down. But today is not a good day and Anti is in pain, replaying memories in his mind, trying to reconcile the two self-images conflicting in his brain, trying to figure out why he did the things he did.

“I can see if there’s a way for you to knit without needles,” says Casper, softly.

At that, a tiny nod, the only response Anti has in him. Yes, please. He wants that. He wants to knit. He’s not doing well. He can’t take this obsession anymore. Can’t keep thinking about what the boy’s doing, what the boy’s eating, what videos he’s made, what it would look like to see him die, what it would feel like to kill him, to end him, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, this used to make him high and now he’s leaning over the bed to choke up bile on an empty stomach, trying to scream but only able to sob, clutching at his throat, grabbing at his throat, squeezing at his throat -

He has to be sedated. by the time next week rolls around, Anti is being fed through a tube, drugged out of his mind, watching with agonized eyes as the one nurse he tolerates comes to take care of him like he’s some weak, broken thing. sometimes she even pushes the hair out of his eyes, her warm hand brushing against his forehead, and he lets himself think about the way the boy used to have people to hold him and hug him and show him affection, and it used to make happy chemicals light up in his brain and smile cross the face they share, and he wasn’t in pain...

The knitting gives him something else to focus on.

Maybe a little too much. He knits obsessively, without pattern, just looping, looping, looping, looping a longer and longer blanket, his eyes fixed on it, only eating when his nurse tells him he has to if he doesn’t want his yarn taken away. for once, he does not mumble to himself, does not try to slam his hands against the wall or tear his throat open, does not speak of the boy.

Until Casper comes back the next week.

A long line of knitted yarn stretches out on Anti’s feet. There’s a little color in his cheeks again. A little light in his eyes. Casper prepares himself for yelling, for insults, for threats to make lesser men weak in the knees.

“How are you doing today, Anti?”

Anti loops, loops, loops.

“Better since last week?”

Loops, loops, loops.

“You know, it’s six months since you came here. Did you know that?”

Stops looping.

And for a second, everything frantic and angry and violent and cruel falls away from his face, and he is just another patient, another young man who’s done terrible things, who needs Casper because nobody else cares to care about him.

And he says, “I hate him because I am not as complete as he is, and I feel like a shattered thing, and I wish he made me whole.”

It’s a breakthrough.

Anti picks up other hobbies. He reads. He draws a little. Once, he’s even allowed out into the mess hall, and he bounces a ball back and forth, quietly, with another inmate.

They start to talk meaningfully. He’s disorganized mentally and hard to follow, yes, and he’s still violent and threatening, still angry and cruel. but sometimes, in a blue moon, he bares his wounds to this quiet, unafraid man, watching him from across clear glass.

They talk about Anti’s hurt. About Anti’s hatred. About life outside of this room, but not outside of the institution.

He’s never getting out, of course. Or he’s not supposed to. But, well. He does. Somehow. He’s the only inmate ever to escape this place.

Casper still thinks of him sometimes.

Hopes he’s doing well.

#hospitalization tw #institutionalization tw #drugging tw #hospital tw

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acelikesturtles · 5 years ago

Text

“Crushed”

Prompt: #2 (Childhood Best Friends AU)

Warnings: Mention/Experience of Childhood Bullying, Angsty

Word Count: 2,201

A/N: This is from this ask game that I posted a while back and just now was able to fully get around to. This is a little more angsty than it is fluffy at first, but the end result is kinda cuddly and fluffy if you ask me lol. I obviously took quite a few creative liberties with the interpretation (because this is an AU prompt) and the set up was rather heavily inspired from the vibe/aesthetics from the now abandoned fanfiction I wrote back in 2013/14. It was nice to be able to get back into that headset again, I miss that fanfiction a lot actually. That may be why it took me so long to get this finished? Reminded me a lot of what once was and it was healthy to be able to reflect on some of those old creative notions and get some of that out.

The moment Mikey stepped onto his balcony and into the crisp, early summer air, a gust of cool wind hit his lightly freckled cheeks and carried the smell of freshly roasted marshmallows, smoke, and melting chocolate through the breeze. As of only a few hours ago it was officially summer vacation. For Mikey, seeing his three best friends gathered around a small propane fire pit pelting marshmallows at each other gave him a sense of zen that his mother would not be able to sympathize with given the mess and the ruckus unfolding on their balcony that the landlord would surely complain about the next morning.

“Ow! Raph that could’ve cracked my lenses!”

Donnie frowned and removed his glasses to wipe the powder and mess from the right lens with the sleeve of his dark grey hoodie. In an act of childish revenge and in solidarity for the quietest of the group, Leo grabbed a handful of marshmallows out of the bag in front of them and threw them at Raph, only for the quarterback to catch a few sugary bullets in his mouth instead of allowing them all to go to waste on the concrete beneath them.

“Nice try, fearless.” Raph laughed through a half-chewed mouthful of marshmallows.

Mikey sat down on the remaining patio chair, the squeaky green one that he usually reserved for Leo just to annoy him, and began snapping graham crackers over his paper plate while Leo handed squares of chocolate out.

"How was your last day, Raph?" Leo asked, dropping the chocolate square onto Raph’s paper plate. Raph was too busy trying to finish the unintentional 'Chubby Bunny Challenge' he had started. With one clearly painful swallow which almost provoked the turtle to tears followed by a couple hard fist pounds on his plastron, he cleared his throat before giving an unceremonious shrug of his shoulders.

"It was alright. Mrs. Barkley wanted us to write a letter to our future selves er somethin' stupid like that. Kinda lame if you ask me."

"Hey, I thought that was fun, dude, don't ruin the vibes!" Mikey pouted. Even though Raph and Mikey happened to share the same teacher, that didn’t mean that their experience in her class was at all similar to one another. This was in part because Mikey was often pulled for extra assistance and missed some of the in-class instruction. This didn’t annoy him most of the time since he was typically pulled during math class and numbers never failed to make him exceptionally sleepy. "Did you even write anything?" He asked, swatting at a mosquito that had landed on his thigh.

"Yeah sure," Raph waved his hand at him nonchalantly, then leaned back in his patio chair so far that he almost tipped himself over. "Nothin special, just words, you know."

Leo clucked his tongue and shook his head. He was smirking. Leonardo carefully skewered a marshmallow and held it over the gas flame before looking back up at Raph. He had leaned forward in his chair again and was digging in the marshmallow bag for the biggest, puffiest marshmallow that he could find. "Yeah, and what are you gonna do when your mom wants to see it?" Leo asked in a challenging tone.

"Who said she's gonna?" Raph countered back as he stabbed his marshmallow rather aggressively onto his skewer.

While Raph and Leo continued yet again to engage in a pointless discussion about the value of doing busy work, respecting elders and all the other boring stuff that Leo learned from his dad’s dojo, Donnie and Mikey were left to fend for themselves with their friends' arguing voices serving as a backdrop like it usually did. Mikey looked up at Don’s particularly well adapted technique for marshmallow roasting and did his best to try to subtly imitate it. By slowly rotating the skewer in his hands, Donnie would undoubtedly get an even roast on his marshmallow and the perfect, ASMR-inducing crunch when he placed his graham cracker on top. Don had been noticeably quiet for the most part, focused on cleaning his glasses after Raph’s earlier ambush. At first Mikey didn’t think much of his quiet demeanor since, at times, this was normal for him; sitting back and listening to everyone else was more mutually beneficial than blabbing on and on about what he did in his gifted extension classes, especially since the only details and stories that Mikey and Raph found interesting included local “hottie-of-a-teacher” Ms. Carlton.

What made this period of quiet different was how glazed over Donnie’s eyes seemed coupled with an unusually tired expression for a day that was supposed to be nothing but fun with friends. There was some sort of tension bearing weight on Don’s shoulders that Mikey wanted to relieve, even if it meant just being a comfort.

“Hey Don, how was your day?” Mikey asked, breaking the turtle from his trance. Donnie blinked a couple of times before pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up a little on the bridge of his nose with his index finger. He made a face, one that expressed some combination of anxiety and unspoken discomfort over being confronted, then tried to shrug it off.

“It was alright. We didn’t do anything like what you or Raph did.” He said. A light smile tugged at the corners of his lips but it still seemed more tired than it did genuine.

"Course not," Raph chimed in. He had broken away from one pointless discussion for long enough to insert himself into another to escape from Major Lieutenant Leo’s endless lectures. "You probably made like, a rocket ship or somethin'. The USS Nerd-Brain, right?” He joked and nudged him with an elbow playfully.

“No, that was last month's project. Today was just final project presentations, everybody had to do one.”

“That’s what you made the solar energy converter thingy for.” Leo acknowledged.

Donnie resisted the urge to correct his terminology and nodded. “Yep, I got the best grade.”

“Then why do you look so uncomfortable talking about it?” Mikey asked. It was the obvious question that had likely been on Raph and Leo’s minds too now that he had drawn attention to it, but Mikey was apparently the only one with the balls to bring it up so nonchalantly as if it wasn’t going to trigger Donnie to metaphorically slink back into his shell and never come back out again.

A silence fell over the group only punctuated by honking horns and distant ambulance sirens. All eyes had turned towards Donnie who was now fully thrust under the spotlight. He swallowed. After about ten seconds with no response from him other than the appearance of the slightest red tint on his cheeks, he cleared his throat and removed his marshmallow from the flame and set it onto his graham cracker.

“It was Grant. You probably don’t know him, he-” He froze in the middle of a thought and sighed through his nose in defeat. “We...got into an argument.”

“Why?” Raph asked, scrunching his nose up in disgust. “Do I gotta hit this kid?”

Don snorted. “No, I handled it myself. Sort of...ish.”

“Sort of? Donnie, what exactly happened?” Leo frowned.

At first he wanted to dodge the question but he knew that the more he put off answering, the more poking and prodding at the subject matter would result. He closed his eyes, scrunching them up really tight while gripping and lightly massaging his nose right beneath the bridge for his glasses. With his other hand, Donnie grabbed his now completed s'more and took a single bite, feeling that sweet, sugary relief wash over him that had notably been absent before.

"I was presenting my project and there was this girl—is this girl, Lucy," He corrected himself. "You probably also don't know her but, she's kinda pretty and—"

“Woah woah, how pretty we talking?” Mikey butted in. His investment in this story had suddenly peaked. “On a scale of “cute” to “total babe”, how would you rank her?”

“Brunette?” Raph guessed. “Not a brunette, okay. Redhead? Blonde?”

“Totally a blonde.” Mikey snorted and gestured towards Donnie’s face, which despite his best efforts was still managing to grow redder by the second from embarrassment. “Am I right or am I right? She’s a blonde, isn’t she?”

Donnie brought himself back into the focus of his own conversation rather than answering what felt like a silly question given his circumstances. "Listen, I'm not her type."

"Says who?" Asked Raph.

"Says Grant, who told me I'm on his turf." Donnie grumbled under his breath.

"What, he knows what she's thinking?" Raph snorted.

“No, but-”

“Then go for it!” Mikey cheered.

“You don’t-”

“Grant isn’t the boss of you Donnie, you should talk to her.” Leo joined in.

There was a faint ringing in Donnie’s head that grew louder and louder the more he listened to their voices merge into one, all chanting for him to do what he felt like he just couldn’t, drowning out his words amidst a sea of voices that were louder and prouder than his was. It was only a matter of time before the feeling of being ignored became too much, and he had had enough. “Don’t you understand?” Donnie snapped. “Grant doesn’t want me on his “turf” because I’m a mutant!” He took a deep breath in, then slowly released it through his nose, to try and calm down. “She probably thinks I’m a freak.”

Everyone paused and yet again another quiet came over them. Mikey’s eyes drifted down towards the concrete beneath their feet, mind busy with thoughts that he had always kept in the back of his mind that were now plaguing him again. He never liked to think about the fact that their status as mutants hindered their ability to find friends or someday fall in love, but Donnie was saying it too. If the smartest one in their little posse was falling prey to the same cycle of thoughts that he often had before falling asleep at night, what did that mean about the validity of those thoughts?

“Do you know that for sure?” Leo asked, breaking the silence with a calm and collected tone that was so characteristic for his zen demeanor.

Don shook his head. “But Grant does. So do his friends, I mean look at me--look at us.”

“So, we’re mutants,” Leo sighed and pulled his marshmallow from the gas flame. It was perfectly toasted to an even golden brown on all sides and oozed out the sides of his s’more when he put another graham cracker on top. “I don’t believe we’re freaks though.”

Raph gave Leo a look, then laughed. “How do you figure?”

“Well, my dad always says that we can create our own truth,” Leo explained, earning an eye roll from Raphael who again seemed caught in a never ending cycle of lectures that Leo picked up from his dad. “So even if Grant thinks that we’re freaks...we have the final say on whether or not we feel that’s true.”

“Yeah, and what if this Lucy chick thinks that he’s a freak too? No offense, Donnie.” Raph said, patting Don on the shoulder in consolation. “You can’t just make that not true, genius.”

“No, that’s not the point,” Leo countered, then turned to Donnie. “What Grant says doesn’t matter because he doesn’t control how we think about ourselves or what you think is true. You do.”

Donnie blinked once. Twice. He looked down at the concrete again and shuffled his feet around beneath him, feeling a little silly that he had wasted his last day of 8th grade feeling gloomy and sad while looking at Lucy with wistful eyes that felt they had no chance on earth of ever meeting hers in a way that wasn’t just as friends. Was what Grant said actually the truth, or was he just allowing it to be the truth like Leo was suggesting? Would it be easier to stay away from Lucy and let Grant take his swing at her then risk a lifetime of heartache if he was rejected by her for being what he was?

Without warning, two arms wrapped around his slumped over shoulders and he looked up from the ground to see that Mikey had gotten up from his squeaky chair and was fully latched onto Donnie’s side.

“Its okay bro, I think you’re pretty awesome.” Mikey mumbled into Donnie’s shoulder.

“Me too, for the record.” Raph joined in, giving Donnie a playfully affectionate punch on the opposite arm.

A sigh escaped through Donnie’s nostrils chased down by a genuine smile. It was a gradual process, but he was beginning to feel a little better. Maybe Lucy did think that he was a freak like Grant had told him, or maybe Grant was just making it all up. His chances weren’t completely gone yet, and he had the whole summer ahead of him to have fun and forget about people like Grant and focus on more important things like science camp, gifted extension applications for the next semester, and then...maybe working up the balls to say something to Lucy.

Yeah, maybe that was what he would do.

#yes that is my oc thats been mentioned #no she doesnt think hes a freak #tmnt #acelikesturtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2012 #ace is typing...#authoring by ace

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bamby0304 · 6 years ago

Text

Spanner in the Works- Ch.16

Series Masterlist

Summary: Your car breaks down, leaving you stranded in a small town. Waiting for your car to get the all clear, you find yourself getting closer to Sam Winchester, the handsome mechanic working on it. Will he be able to break down your walls? Or is this just a pit stop before you continue to run?

A/N: Check out the scent Sam from @scentsfromthebunker for a next-level fanfic experience!!

Warnings: Fluff.

Bamby

With your hand in his, Sam helped you up onto the back of the tow truck. He didn’t let you go as the two of you walked to the end of it and sat down. Shoulders brushing against each other’s, the two of you fell into a silence that was actually quite comfortable.

You were always comfortable around Sam…

“So,” he started suddenly, drawing your attention to him, “I’ve been giving you some space.”

A smile tugged on your lips. “I noticed.”

“I wanted to give you some time to think. To sort through your thoughts. I was hoping it would help you make your mind up… has it?”

“About leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Not really,” you laughed lightly. “Everything is still so very, very, very confusing. I want to run like hell, but I find myself stuck here. Not just because I literally have no way to run, but because… everyone here is so kind and welcoming and it honestly feels like the perfect place to just finally settle. But then there’s you.” You gestured to him, spotting the very confused look on his face.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. The guy who… do you know what a meet cute is?”

“No,” he chuckled. “It sounds like a chick-flick thing, and we don’t really do chick-flicks.”

“Well meeting you was like a moment in a chick-flick movie. I mean I break down on the side of the road and you show up, and every moment since then has been one knight-in-shining-armour move after another. And it is so hard not to fall for all of that.”

“Fall?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow before the corner of his lips pulled up into a grin. “You falling for me?”

The wide eyed look you gave him wiped the grin from his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, silencing him.

It took a short moment for it to register before he kissed you back, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face and hold you close as he deepened the kiss. Lips turning up into a smiling against his, you melted into the touch.

Pulling back, he gazed up at you with a slight fearful curiosity. “I don’t want to do anything to ruin the moment.”

“Maybe that’s our problem? We’re so worried about ruining the moment… I’m tired of running, Sam. I can’t make any promises-”

“And neither can I.”

“- but I want to at least enjoy this moment while it lasts.” Running your fingers through his hair, you stared into the kaleidoscope colour of his eyes. “I just had this conversation with your brother-”

“Oh God.” He cringed, leaning back against the truck. “How did he screw things up this time?”

Laughing, you shook your head at him. “He didn’t. In fact, he kinda made some good points. Kinda helped me realise a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Even if I run now… people are gonna get hurt.” You lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “Your parents worry about me like they’ve known me forever. They… they’re…”

“Like parents?” he asked, lifting a hand to brush a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

You nodded quickly, unable to actually say the words. “They’ve taken care of me ever since they realised I was around. I know if I were to pack up and go it would stress them both out. And even though he and I started off rocky, Dean would worry, too. Not just about me, though. He worries about you.”

“Because I’m falling, too?” He didn’t need you to answer the question. He knew he was on point.

“It’s crazy that we’ve known each other for, like, a week and we already feel so… weird.”

“I wouldn’t call it weird.”

“It’s a defence mechanism,” you countered. “Getting invested so quickly is one thing. Verbalising it makes it far too real far too fast. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps.” He gave a short nod.

Smiling, you leaned back against the truck and rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked up at the sky.

“Your mum mentioned a barbeque.”

“It’s a town thing. We all meet up at Bobby’s place. Everyone brings something to eat, something to drink. It’s just a way to stay connected,” he explained.

“Who is Bobby?”

“My dad’s best friend… and half the part owner of the town.”

“Part owner?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “A new freeway was built and the town started losing a lot of traffic. We were gonna become a ghost town. Bobby Singer’s family had founded the town nearly a century ago, and had owned it since then. But then things got bad he had no choice but to turn to Crowley.”

“Crowley?” You looked up at him, keeping your head on his shoulder. “Sounds like a villian from Harry Potter or something.”

“No,” Sam chuckled. “The guy is actually nice. He built the hotel that Garth now runs.”

“It’s not the kind of big and fancy hotel I would expect in this kind of situation. Don’t people who buy towns normally tear it down and make it a tiny city?”

“This isn’t a movie.” He grinned, amused. “The hotel was actually already part of the town, so he just fixed it up. Kept it true to itself. Crowley wants to keep the town the way he found it, but just enhance it. Like I said, he’s not a bad guy”

“He sounds… nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I guess I’m used to bad things always happening.”

Turning to face you more, he cupped your cheek again, looking down to catch your gaze. “I’m gonna show you that not everything ends badly.”

“I’d like that.”

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

As he pulled back, you leaned against the truck again. “So this barbeque… your mum is wondering if I want to go or not.”

“Do you?”

“Well it depends.”

“On what?”

“Will you be going?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling as your cheeks flushed. Flirting wasn’t exactly a skill of yours.

His face lit up at your attempt, and then his smile turned into a grin. “Let me get back to you on that one?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Giving a sharp nod, he leaned in once more to give you another kiss.

Letting the subject go, you melted into the kiss and let him hold you. When you’d told Sam you wanted to enjoy the moment more you were telling the truth. While you were certain it was going to take some work to fight the urge to protect yourself- and others- by running, you were determined to at least give things ago.

…

Mary had cooked some spaghetti for dinner, which you’d all enjoyed while watching Dr. Sexy M.D.- which you’d been surprised and amused to find out it was a guilty pleasure of Dean’s. John had wanted to watch the news, but Mary had taken control of the channels and refused to change it over for him.

Afterwards you’d helped with the clean up, along with Sam. It had become obvious very quickly that he’d offered to help to hangout with you. The way he leaned in a little closer than necessary, always grinning at you. He loved to make you giggle and blush like a schoolgirl.

When it got too nauseating for Dean, you and Sam headed to your room to hangout. A couple of hours later you were still sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his hand on yours.

“You know that room outside the window?” He gestured to the only window in the room. “That’s my room.”

Following his finger, you looked out to see a window with a curtain drawn to block your view into the room. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, dropping his hand. “I’ve been really tempted to look into your room at night. Not in a creepy way,” he assured you. “But ever since that night you woke up screaming, I’ve felt really guilty I wasn’t there to help you.”

“Not that I’m upset about it or anything, but if your room is right there, how did you not hear me scream?”

“Oh uh,” he chuckled, embarrassed, “I sleep with earplugs in. Dean snores… and sometimes brings women home. I try to block out all possible disturbing sounds.”

“Don’t you mean disruptive?”

“No. The sex noises are disturbing.”

Laughing, you shook your head at him. “Well then you’re absolutely forgiven for not hearing me.”

“Good.” Shifting a little, he glanced down at you quickly. “Now that you’ve forgiven me, I was wondering…”

“Mmhmm?”

“Would… would you like to go to the barbeque… with me?”

Eyes going wide, you tensed out of shock. “As in… a date?”

“Only if that’s what you want,” he rushed, not wanting to scare you off.

Chewing your lip, staring straight ahead, you contemplated the thought. Going on a date with Sam would be fun- you had no doubt- but it also blurred some lines. Were you really ready to let down some of those walls you’d worked so hard on building up around you?

“If it helps, I’ll be going early with Dad and Dean to help Bobby clean and set up. So we don’t have to go together. You can go with Mum and meet me there. And then… we can just hangout.”

“Together.”

“It’ll be like how we hangout normally, if that’s what you want.”

“Can… can we just play it by ear? For now?” you asked, looking up at him.

Searching your gaze, he took a moment before nodding. “I’m cool with that.”

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly at him.

“But just so we’re clear, you’re definitely going to the barbeque?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. I’ll let Mum know on my way out later.” Looking down at your intertwined fingers, he hesitated a moment before asking, “Would it be okay if I kissed you again? I don’t wanna freak you out…”

“You’re okay, Sam,” you assured him, turning your body to face him a little better. “And it would be more than okay. It would be perfect.”

Smiling back at you, he leaned in to press his lips to yours again, causing all worries and thoughts about barbeques and dates to fade.

Bamby

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #spanner in the works

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taetaespeaches · 6 years ago

Text

“So Claude, what’s your real name?”

Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 5K

a/n: I did a stupid amount of research for this scenario and I don’t even know if I’m proud of how it turned out... fuck me right? lmao. I just wanted to make sure that it was somewhat realistic in that they would be looking at art that is actually in Paris. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this at least a little bit. It’s based on this concept the lovely @newodds sent in, in which Tae meets the reader in Paris and they look at art together. As always, thanks for reading babes.

For reference:

This is the set of lyrics from Billie Holiday’s Lover Man that helped inspire this scenario:

Someday we'll meet And you'll dry all my tears Then whisper sweet Little things in my ear Hugging and a kissing Oh, what we've been missing Lover man, oh, where can you be

Also, here are the two paintings involved in this scenario:

Van Gogh: Le semeur, soleil couchant

Monet: Field of poppies near Vétheuil

p.s. The Bührle Collection (the art collection Tae and the reader are looking at in this) is in Paris from March 20 through July 21 and BTS are in Paris in June for the Speak Yourself tour, so this kind of worked out if you imagine it’s June... see, stupid amount of research.

The overwhelming aroma of roasted coffee beans mixed with a subtle smell of fresh baked pastries flooded your nostrils as you entered the museum’s café. The sweet fragrance made your mouth water as you stared ahead of you at the big glass display case, rows upon rows of baked goods taunting your taste buds.

Approaching the display to take a better look, your eyes widened at all the options laid out in front of you. You let out a big audible sigh, not realizing how loud it was due to earbuds that were currently jammed into your ears. However, your expression of indecisiveness caught the attention of the man next to you, eliciting a deep chuckle from him.

As he took in your appearance, he found that he couldn’t peel his eyes away, intrigued by you for some reason that he couldn’t quite figure out. You were beautiful, but it wasn’t just that. He felt drawn to you, hit with a craving to know how your mind worked and what made your heart race.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned to your side, jolting slightly in surprise when you noticed the extremely handsome man staring right at you. Quickly, you grabbed the earbud cord to rip it out of your ear, effectively making the bud fly right into the man’s face, smacking him on the cheek under his eye. He flinched back a bit as he blinked quickly and repeatedly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you frantically apologized, bringing your hands towards his face with the intention to inspect his injury, however stopping yourself before touching him, reminding yourself this dude was a total stranger. “Are you ok? I’m so, so sorry.”

The most beautiful expression of happiness you’d ever seen spread across his face in the form of a boxy smile, a deep chuckle reverberating from his vocal chords making his Adam’s apple bob against his long neck. In a trance caused purely by how fucking gorgeous this guy was, you slowly apologized again, your voice quiet as you began to whisper until the sound all but faded out. With your hands still near his face, his large and strong hands clasped over your own, lowering them between your chests as he shook his head.

“It’s ok,” he spoke in over-enunciated English, a noticeable accent peeking through his articulation as he smiled. Freezing momentarily, you looked at your hands which were wrapped up in his, your eyes scanning over the protruding veins as your heart skipped several beats and then pounded rapidly against your chest in an effort to catch up with the beats missed.

He lowered his head to enter your eye line, bringing your focus back to his stunning face. The beautiful smile still on display, he nodded at you. “I’m ok,” his low timbre assured you. You felt your cheeks blush as he released your hands from his grip.

You licked your lips nervously, averting your eyes from his face, the small leather film camera case hanging off the man’s shoulder catching your gaze for a moment before you looked around the café, eventually focusing back on the plethora of pastries. His eyes were still on you, you could feel it. “Um,” you started, looking back at the handsome man. “Can I make it up to you?”

He squinted his eyes at you, his face morphing into an intimidating look making you feel nervous. You licked your bottom lip again before taking it between your teeth, turning back to the pastries.

“Sorry, I uh,” he started, making you look back at him in anticipation. His facial expression had softened again, now appearing bashful. “I don’t speak much English,” he apologized shyly, his tongue swiping out for a quick moment. With his eyes wide and innocent, he resembled a child.

“That’s ok,” you assured him with an affectionate smile. “Uh, do you want something?” You gestured at the case, then pointed at yourself. “On me,” you smiled. Realization flashed across his face as he smiled again, nodding enthusiastically. His reaction elicited a giggle from you as you turned back to the pastries. “So many options,” you said out loud.

The man’s eyebrows pulled together as he scanned the choices. “What’s good?” He asked you, his eyes once again changing from intimidating to childlike within a second. Holy duality, you thought.

“Um, I don’t really know. I’m a tourist,” you clarified.

“Oh, tourist? Me too,” he smiled.

“What brings you to Paris?” You asked, genuinely curious.

His low voice hummed in thought. “Work.” He said simply, to which you nodded slowly. Before you could ask further, his mouth smacked open, though no words were spoken yet as he looked towards the ceiling, thinking of the words to put together to form a sentence. So endearing. “I’m here with my work members, but I have a day off.” He nodded once, proud of his explanation, his cute expression tugging at your heart. “Why are you here?”

“Vacation,” you explained. You thought about trying to explain that you were here with your friends touring across parts of Europe and that they were way too hungover from partying last night to leave the hotel room today, but you didn’t know if he would be able to understand you. He nodded at your short explanation, so you left it at that.

“So, you like art?” He asked, eyes gleaming with excitement as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Nodding, you smiled. “I don’t know a lot about art, but I’m trying to learn more,” you explained, however, it looked like he only understood part of what you said.

“You know Vincent Van Gogh?” He asked in anticipation.

“Of course,” you nodded as a big geometric smile spread across his face, making you mirror his expression.

“He’s my favorite,” the man informed you proudly making you smile even wider. His obvious fascination with art was endearing and made you want to know more about him and his interests. “Your favorite artist?”

“Mine?” You pointed to yourself making the man nod enthusiastically. “Monet. I like landscapes,” you elaborated. He smiled widely at your answer.

“I like Monet too,” he told you with a happy, close-mouthed grin, eliciting a giggle from you in response to his cuteness. “Um, exhibit,” he started bashfully. “Uh, Van Gogh and Monet. It opened today,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I read something about it,” you pulled out a pamphlet you picked up on your way inside the museum. Pointing to the page about the Bührle Collection, he leaned towards you to look at it. His proximity made you feel weak as you took in the scent of this handsome stranger.

“Ah, yes,” he smiled happily as he met your eyes from his position, hovering above you, not seeming to care how close he had gotten to you. “I was excited,” he started as he gathered his words. “I leave tomorrow, and this opened,” he explained.

“Oh, just in time,” you smiled. “Must be fate.” Taehyung smiled fondly at your words.

Basically, the Emil Bührle Collection from Zürich was quite the prestigious collection of art, and it was being presented in a temporary exhibit at the very museum you both stood in, the Musée Maillol, right there in Paris. And it just so happened to be the exhibit’s opening day.

“Would you like to visit it with me?” He asked you with big puppy-like eyes as he pointed to the pamphlet. “After food,” he added, making you giggle in response.

Despite not knowing this man, he seemed genuine and pure, and that made you feel comfortable enough to accept his invitation. Nodding with an affectionate smile, you replied with, “I’d love to.” His lips spread into the biggest boxy smile you’d seen from him yet, effectively melting your heart, as he gave a single happy nod.

Both staring at each other for a moment, your eyes scanned each other’s features. That’s when you noticed the freckle at the end of his pretty nose. Well that’s adorable. Breaking your gaze from him with a small sigh, you turned back to the pastries, his gaze following yours. “Here,” he announced as he shut his eyes and pointed his finger towards the glass display case. Moving his arm around in circles and left to right at random, he stopped, peeking one eye open to see where his finger landed. Really freaking adorable. Both of you leaning forward to inspect the item, you discovered it was a pear and hazelnut tart. “You like?” He asked you, to which you nodded. “Good,” he gave another single nod. “For you. Now you pick for me,” he smiled pointing to himself.

A shy smile appeared on your face as you tentatively covered your eyes with your hand and mimicked his motions as you pointed your finger at the pastries. Removing your hand from your face, you saw that your finger landed on a chocolate eclair. “Do you like those?” You asked him as he nodded excitedly, making you giggle.

You both made your way to the counter to order, telling the girl which pastries you wanted, as well as placing an order for a small café au lait for yourself. “Um, do you want a drink?” You asked the beautiful stranger to which his eyes popped open wide, his mouth shortly following suit. After a moment of thought, he smiled shyly, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“Uh, coke?” Smiling fondly at him, you nodded and ordered his coke. “I don’t like coffee,” he added, his embarrassment growing.

“That’s ok,” you assured him sweetly. “It can be bitter.” He smiled graciously at your comment, thankful for your understanding.

When the girl asked for a name, before you could answer, the man replied with “Claude Monet”. Turning to look at him, you couldn’t help the massive grin that overtook your features. Utterly fucking adorable. The girl slightly chuckled as she nodded and wrote Claude Monet down. As you reached into your bag to pay, the stranger stepped in front of you, taking the bill himself.

Sitting down at a table as you waited for your order, you playfully glared at the stunning man. “I was supposed to pay,” you told him, making him look at you innocently. “Because I did that,” you reached up to gently poke the red mark on his cheek. As your finger met his unbelievably smooth skin, a grin overtook his face. Shaking his head, he wrapped his hand around yours, intertwining your fingers as he lowered them both to the table.

“On me,” he said through his smile, to which you mirrored his grin, unable to hold back the display of happiness. Your hands broke apart a few seconds later when the girl called out “Claude Monet,” sporting an amused grin as she did so. The beautiful man shot up quickly, retrieving the treats and snacks, and as he made his way back, he stared at you intensely. When he sat down, his gaze remained on you as if he was looking over your every feature and blemish. You thanked him quietly for the pastry and drink to which he gave a small nod.

Feeling intimidated by his stare, you directed your eyes on the tart in front of you as you prepared to ask him a question, curiosity taking over as you wanted to know more about this adorable yet unbelievably handsome and sometimes intimidating stranger. “So, Claude,” you teased, eliciting an immediate chuckle from him. Feeling braver in response to his playfulness, you looked up at him with a smirk. “What’s your real name?”

With a soft smile, he looked over your features fondly before responding. “Taehyung.”

“Taehyung,” you repeated, carefully enunciating as he hummed in approval.

“What’s your name?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in curiosity, lifting his coke to his lips to take a drink.

“Vincent,” you put your hand out for him to shake. “Vincent Van Gogh.” At that, Taehyung burst into giggles, taking your hand and shaking it gently.

“Wow,” he said happily. “Big fan of your work,” he added, playing along.

Smiling widely, you told him your real name as he still held onto your hand. “Nice to meet you,” he told you genuinely, his mouth shaped into a fond smile.

“Nice to meet you too,” you agreed. Reluctantly, he let go of your hand, and you both looked down to your pastries. “So, Tourist Taehyung,” you began to ask another question. “Where are you from?”

“Korea,” he said with a smile. “You?” After telling him, he responded with a loud, “Ah,” flashing a thumbs up, attracting the attention of the man sitting next to you for a moment.

Laughing at his cute action, you took a sip of your drink, sneaking a glance at Taehyung as he held his coke in one hand and the éclair in the other, a happy grin on his face. Taking a bite of the eclair, he hummed in satisfaction. Holding it out to you, you looked at it in question, and then up at him. He gestured to it, silently telling you to take a bite as he raised it closer to your mouth.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and bit a piece off, instantly letting out a small moan at the taste. “Good?” He asked you, looking at you with big eyes. Nodding enthusiastically in response, you immediately lifted your tart up for him to try. With an affection look on his face, he leaned down and took a bite. His eyes widened as he flashed you a close-mouthed smile.

“Good?” You asked him as you licked your lips, ridding them of eclair crumbs. Instead of answering, he bounced his head around as he hummed in approval. That’s when you noticed he chewed in pout. HE CHEWS IN POUT. Admiring his pouted lips and innocent eyes, your heart might as well have exploded in your chest. How can someone even be this adorable?

He held his coke up for you try, to which you giggled. “I’ve had a coke before, Taehyung.” He simply shrugged and took a sip for himself. Pointing to your coffee, he silently asked for a taste. “You don’t like coffee,” you reminded him with a small giggle, however, he flashed you a pout. “What, when in France, do as the French do?” You asked, causing him to smile widely as he chuckled.

Holding the cup out to him, he took it from you to take a sip. He tried to keep his face still, but the bitterness of the drink showed through his expression, his features twisting up into dissatisfaction. A laugh escaped your lips, fully amused by his disgust as he washed down the bitter taste with another drink of his coke. As he watched you laugh, a smile slowly appeared on his face.

“I like your laugh,” he said abruptly, causing your laugh to slowly fade away as your smile turned into a bashful one.

“Thank you,” you said shyly. “I like yours too.” That caused him to smile even wider. “I like your freckle too,” you blurted out, making him look at you in confusion. Why the fuck would you say that, you idiot? “Uh, your freckle..” you said nervously, “at the end of your nose.” To clarify fully, you gently tapped your finger on his nose. “It’s cute,” you smiled shyly, heat flushing from your cheeks down your neck. Taehyung touched his nose as he figured out what you were saying.

“Thank you,” he smiled as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. You cast your gaze towards your feet in embarrassment as he kept his eyes locked on your face, his orbs taking in your features, admiring every detail. His stare made you feel shy, yet you also felt appreciated and seen.

“So, you take pictures?” You asked, gesturing to the camera case.

“Ah,” he said, tapping his fingers on the leather case. “I love taking photos. Uh landscapes, people, everything.” You smiled at his words, your mind pondering what it must be like to see through Taehyung’s eyes. “I’d love to take your photo,” he admitted shyly, making your breath escape your lungs for a moment.

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, your cheeks heating intensely as you shot your eyes to your coffee cup, watching your thumb rub circles against the side of it. “I don’t know though, I might break your camera,” you joked, though Taehyung didn’t comprehend what you said. Probably lucky for you, as well, as you figured he was the kind of guy who would have lectured you on why that wasn’t true.

“What were you listening to?” He asked you suddenly, your eyes shooting up to his face in question, as a small “huh?” escaped your lips. He tapped his ear with his pointer finger as he asked again, “Uh, music?”

“Oh,” you said in realization. “Uh,” you dug in your pocket to find your phone. Opening up your music app, you turned the device so he could see the screen. A sweet smile spread on his pretty lips as he read the song and artist, which was Lover Man by Billie Holiday.

“Billie Holiday?” He asked, almost knowingly.

“Yeah. She sings with so much soul,” you gestured to your heart to emphasize your reasoning. With so much fondness, Taehyung looked at you.. he really looked at you.. and you really did feel seen.

“I love jazz,” he told you, eyes bright and attentive. “Jazz makes you feel.” The atmosphere that seemed to encase you both at that moment was overwhelming, in the best way possible. You were amazed by how at home you felt with this guy you just met. With your heart racing, feeling a little too much, you decided to change the topic.

“Um, so Van Gogh,” you started, “Why is he your favorite?” You asked him as you took a bite of your tart.

“Uh, colors…” His tongue swiped against his bottom lip as he smiled bashfully, feeling embarrassed by his inability to express his thoughts in English as you peered into his deep orbs. You picked up on the blush tinting his cheeks and nodded in encouragement. "Um, colors and... feeling,” he continued.

“His paintings make you feel,” you said in understanding. Smiling beautifully, he nodded.

As you both finished your drinks and baked goods, sharing the pastries until they were all gone, Taehyung gestured to the exit. “Ready?” He asked you happily, to which you nodded with a big smile. Exiting the museum café with him, you felt like you were dreaming. You don’t just bump into super attractive men with duality that gives you whiplash who also love art and jazz and photography and have a mind and soul so deep and profound you just want to dive in and explore everything. That doesn’t just happen. That’s fucking fiction.

But when he accidentally bumped into you, his hands reaching out to gently grab your arm to stabilize you, the touch searing you, and as he looked at you with his soft expression and apologized in his low timbre, you knew this was very real. Taehyung was real, and he was there, and when he looked at you with those thoughtful eyes, he saw you.

Walking around the museum, you gazed upon the works that were permanent fixtures of the Musée Maillol. Not much was spoken between you and Taehyung besides the occasional, “Wow” or “Beautiful” or “Look at this one”.

Beyond those few words, you mostly just enjoyed the comfortable presence Taehyung provided you, making you feel at home yet also lighting a curiosity within you, making you feel alive. All you knew about this man was that his name was Taehyung, he was from Korea, he was in Paris for work of some kind, he loved art and photography, his favorite artist was Van Gogh, he disliked coffee, loved coke and sweet pastries, he had the most expressive eyes, the sweetest smile, and the most stunning facial structure, and you liked him a lot.

Exploring the great works of Picasso, Warhol, Matisse, Braque, and so many more, you couldn’t keep your gaze off Taehyung. The masterpieces lining the walls were nothing compared to this man you felt almost destined to find.

When you approached the part of the museum where the Bührle Collection was being displayed, you took notice of the giddiness being expressed through Taehyung’s strut and the way he looked at you with an enthusiastic glint in his orbs. Stepping into the exhibit, the first piece you saw was Manet’s Un Coin du Jardin de Bellevue.

“Wow,” Taehyung awed, to which you nodded in agreement, referring to both the painting and the man at your side. Moving from piece to piece, admiring the works of Renoir, Cezanne, Signac, Degas, Gauguin, and more, you took sly glances at Taehyung, exploring his expressions, the emotions the works were evoking showing themselves on his features.

You found it difficult to tear your eyes away from the slope of his nose, to the perfect structure of his jawline. He would swipe his tongue over his lips quickly when he was deep in thought about a piece, his eyes taking on that intimidating gaze that you had discovered just meant he was inside his mind. Every time he saw a technique used in the painting that he liked a lot, you could instantly tell by the way his lips would quirk up, his eyes taking on a soft gaze as his orbs bounced from detail to detail. You especially loved the way he could feel you staring at him, his lips turning up into a confident smirk, his gaze slowly shifting to you as you quickly averted your gaze to the painting, pretending to nod in approval of what you saw, making him chuckle breathily. As you walked away, you could feel his gaze following you.

Catching sight of the next painting, you could instantly tell it was the Van Gogh piece. Turning around to meet his gaze that was locked on you, you whisper-shouted “Van Gogh” pointing to the painting. It took a moment for him to register your words as he intensely stared at you, but suddenly his eyes popped wide open, appearing innocent, the excitement etched throughout his features. His beautiful boxy smile spread across his face, making your heart grow three sizes larger.

Van Gogh’s Le semeur, soleil couchant, or Sower with Setting Sun was stunning, and you immediately understood what Taehyung meant by colors and feeling in Van Gogh’s work. The colors used evoked a specific feeling, the yellow golden glow of the setting sun placed behind the sower like a halo gave off the impression of comfort and warmth, awing you with its radiance. The purple of the field was calming. With the small house in the background, the feeling of home, rest, and joy was portrayed. The image of the sower working gave you a feeling of humbleness. It wasn’t one of Van Gogh’s well-known self-portraits and it wasn’t Starry Night, but it was its own special piece that made you lose all sense of time as you admired the sower at work.

When you eventually pulled your eyes from the painting to look over at Taehyung, he was already watching you, a soft expression gazing at you. “I love it,” you whispered.

“Comforting,” he whispered back. “Feels like home.” As he spoke those words, his eyes stayed locked on your own, the intensity of his stare giving you the impression he wasn’t simply talking about the painting. In response, you smiled shyly as your fingers slowly sneaked forward to gently play with his own, hoping the touch would convey how you felt in that moment. Taehyung lightly chuckled, his tongue swiping over his lips quickly before he flashed a tender smile. “Your work is great, Vincent,” he teased with a playful sparkle in his eyes.

Scrunching your nose in amusement, you bit your bottom lip as your mouth formed into a pleased grin. “Shall we take a look at your work, Claude?” You teased back, to which he all but snorted out, drawing the attention from a few art spectators passing judging glances, however, you both were unbothered by their looks.

Approaching Monet’s Field of poppies near Vétheuil, you were immediately reminded why you loved Monet so much. The way he utilized his limited palette and used broken color to create such airy looking scenes never failed to mesmerize you. His brush strokes varied from light and misty-like to short and thick to show how the light passed through and changed over the scenery. Seeing one of his pieces in person stunned you.

The contrast between the cool blue sky and green trees in the upper half of the painting and the warm reds in the poppies drew you in as you admired how the brush strokes were used to portray different features in the scene. As you were lost in the painting, Taehyung was lost in you.

His eyes started on the painting, admiring the techniques displayed in the work, however, he snuck one single glance at you and he couldn’t bring himself to look back to the piece. Your teeth tugged on your bottom lip as your tongue occasionally worked over the flesh to sooth it. Your eyes stayed on one area, taking in every detail your orbs could pick up on before they scanned the painting, settling on the next area of interest. Taehyung could tell you especially liked the poppy field, as you focused on it the longest.

“So beautiful,” Taehyung whispered unknowingly, lost in you.

“It is,” you replied as you looked over at him, noticing his eyes were stuck on you, red flushing your cheeks immediately upon the realization resembling the red of the poppies. Taehyung’s lips spread into an affectionate smile as he lightly chuckled at your response.

Moving to the next painting, you both stayed silent, however, you each would intentionally gently bump the other or lean into the other just slightly. By the time you made it through the museum, it was closing time and the sun was setting over the city. Exiting the museum, the ending of your time together was impending, making you both feel tense and dreadful.

As you walked down the street, you were both silent, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence like before. The edgy atmosphere made you feel like bursting into tears. How could you just walk away from this man?

Suddenly, Taehyung stopped walking, you taking a few more steps before you stopped and turned around. Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion as you looked at him. Taehyung pulled the film camera out of its case as he huffed, looking around the city street, nervously avoiding your gaze. “Taehyung?”

With a “huh?” his eyes darted to you, his own orbs large and innocent, and for the first time that day, fearful. “Uh, can I take your photo?”

With a small smile, you nodded. “What should I do?” You asked nervously, tapping your hands against the tops of your thighs. Gesturing you to come closer to him, you followed his lead, taking a few steps until you were stood in front of him. His hands gripped your shoulders, the feeling strong and firm yet gentle and warm. Turning you around, he smiled at you before taking a few steps backwards as he lifted his camera to his face.

“Ah!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. “Perfect.” You looked behind you to see he had positioned you so you were standing in front of the Musée Maillol, your heart clenching at the realization that he wanted to capture you with the place he met you at. You could hear Taehyung’s camera clicking as he photographed the scene.

Looking at the museum, you realized in that moment how your meeting Taehyung had materialized through a series of unlikely events that aligned so unbelievably right that it felt like it had been written in the stars. Starting with the Bührle Collection having made its way to Paris for the first time ever, to opening the exact day you and Taehyung were both free to explore Paris alone, to both of you having an insatiable sweet tooth that drew you both to the dessert case at the exact same moment, all the way to you smacking him in the face with your ear bud. Lover Man by Billie Holiday was even playing when you first laid eyes on him. It all felt so destined.

Turning back to Taehyung, you felt overwhelmed by the feelings that had just erupted in your heart. “Should I smile?” You asked tentatively, unsure of how to handle your own thoughts and emotions in that moment as you watched the stunning man.

“Yes,” he lowered his camera to see you without the barrier, flashing you a stunning boxy grin. “I love your smile,” he said sweetly as he brought the camera back to his face. A shy expression of fondness overtook your face at his words, your lips spreading from cheek to cheek. “Ok, one, two, three!” He counted down as he captured the photo. “Beautiful!” He yelled happily, resembling an adorable little boy as he put his camera back into the case and you approached him.

Watching him as he put his camera back, you wondered if this would be the last time you’d see him. As he met your gaze again, you could have swore he was thinking the same thing, his eyes expressing concern. “Do you believe in fate?” He asked you suddenly, his tongue poking out quickly, which you had discovered was a sign of deep thought and sometimes nervousness.

Breathless, you smiled. “I do,” you whispered, tears forming in your orbs.

Taehyung smiled beautifully, the expression spreading a warmth throughout your body. Reaching for your hand, he encased it in his own as he kept his eyes locked on yours. “Me too.”

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