#i believe this is a type of clown because it has a red nose

[stupidity-incorperated]

I found this guy in my basement. Do you know what breed he his?

[recuira]

Buggy Headcanons ˗ˏˋ꒰🍒꒱ˎˊ˗

★ — OPLA Buggy the Clown ♡

﹢he's the type of guy to follow the "i hate everyone but you" trope. the second he sees you, his heart lights up and he drops everything he's doing to go talk to you, even just for a moment. he could be heated, yelling at his crew, but when he sees you, he smiles and drops everything until you leave.

﹢he's a sucker for cuddles. absolutely loves them. if he's had a long and stressful day, he'll just fall on top of you and pass out. he loves to lay on you. his head on your chest as he rub his back or play with his hair. he definitely snores. not too loud but not quiet either. sometimes it'll get loud and you'll need to wake him up to get some decent sleep x)

﹢both a morning/night person. he goes to bed late and wakes up early. he doesn't get too much sleep because of how busy he is. sometimes the only time he gets with you is when you're both in me. if he's not deathly tired, he'll lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand as he listens to you talk about your day. your voice soothes him.

﹢he's very insecure. lowkey hates himself. his ego is forced and a facade for others so he can intimidate them. he hates his nose. he hates the subject being brought up in any conversation. when he was younger, before meeting shanks, he would wear a mask to hide his nose.

﹢i know everyone is like "buggy is a sex god and dominant and-" no. sorry. he is extremely insecure. it took him a while to show you who he really was. he lets himself unfold with you. he is himself with you. his true self.

﹢the crossbones on his forehead and upper cheek are tattooed on but he paints his face with makeup. his eyelashes are naturally long but he does wear falsies to accentuate it and make himself look more like a clown. his hair is naturally long but he tends to tuck and pin it back underneath the striped bandana.

﹢he likes things to be equal during sex. no top or bottom. as cringe as it may sound, he loves to call it 'love-making'. no fucking or hooking up - rather making love with one another. he worships you, especially in the bedroom. constant kisses and praise. loves doing all of the work, especially if you're stressed out. his favorite position is when you're both laying down on your sides and your holding each other while he makes love to you.

﹢he's a strict believer in taking care of you. pays for meals, surprises you with presents, doesn't want you working- he wants you to be completely comfortable and satisfied. someone as special like you should never even lift a finger. he has it all covered.

﹢loves to let you do his makeup. sometimes he'll be reading the newspaper while you're painting his eyes or lips. it's like he's an actor and you're his makeup artist. he can never get the lines as precise and as neat as you can. once you're finished, he gives you a kiss on your cheek, leaving a red mark. this happens every time.

﹢he's a goofy drunk, very humorous and silly. but as he sobers up, he becomes extremely clingy and doesn't let go of you.

﹢in the public eye, he acts very possessive of you, like he's the one in control. he always needs to be touching you. if you're apart, he'll send a hand your way and hold yours while he's busy. preferably his off-hand so he can still get some work done.

﹢people are scared of him for obvious reasons but when it's just the two of you, he's a big baby. sometimes he'll even use a certain voice whenever he talks to you. you tease him in public, telling others he's a completely different person when you two are alone. he laughs, calls you crazy, and plays it off.

﹢he loves no one more than he loves you.

﹢whenever he performs a show, he always gets you a seat up front. makes sure you can kick your feet up, your popcorn is always full, and you're enjoying yourself. whenever he pulls someone up on the set to help with one of his acts, you're almost always the person he picks.

﹢his favorite moments with you are when you're sitting on the deck of his ship, everyone else is asleep, and the two of you are counting the stars together and admiring one another.

﹢he loves to eat. if you two are eating together, he'll ask for the rest of yours and then some. messy eater, too.

﹢he's a great listener. loves to hear about your day.

﹢he loves to give you massages. just loves to pamper you, in general. your feet will be kicked up on his lap as he rubs them and you vent about your day or your laying on your back and he's above you, massaging your shoulders and hips.

﹢he just loves you. and he is a sweet and delicate man so treat him like one. he's the type of guy to sacrifice the world for you, not you for the world.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Okay, okay - I have to elaborate on the whole ‘your fave discovers you spank yourself’ thoughts because I’ve been rotating them in my mind for the last few days. It’s just too perfect… So. Some little thoughts.

tw: spanking, dubious consent & bad dom/sub dynamics for Crocodile and Doflamingo (Buggy is okay though), gn reader characters: Buggy, Crocodile, Doflamingo word count: 1.2k

I feel like Buggy is the type to catch you in the act. Probably doesn’t even know what he’s looking at for a hot second - and then he simply gapes and promptly walks out of the room again, not believing his eyes. It’s not that it’s that scandalous or that he’s a prude (he very much isn’t, we all know that) - he just really didn’t expect to walk in on you doing that. Pretty much everything else would have been okay, maybe even met with a stupid, saucy comment. But you giving yourself a thorough spanking with his wooden hairbrush out of all things is just something that never crossed his mind, and it leaves the clown entirely speechless. You’re probably just as mortified as him - but the worst thing about it all is that he simply won’t talk about it with you for days. No, the moment you see your boyfriend afterwards, he turns as red as his nose, sputters and flees the other way.

It’s not really mature, it’s really, really silly - but it’s Buggy in a nutshell. At least him avoiding you quickly turns your embarrassment into irritation, which certainly is one way to deal with those feelings. You simply want to talk it out instead of playing cat and mouse as a grown-ass adults and even though you should probably feel ashamed a little bit (or should you? Is this really worse than knowing that Buggy has blown himself at least once?), you soon find yourself grabbing him by the scruff of his neck to finally address it. It’s then that he confesses - stammering, sweating, avoiding eye contact entirely - that he hasn’t been able to get the mental image of you punishing yourself out of his head, hell, that he’s been fucking his fists to it (but you didn’t hear that part, is that clear!?)- Well, that explains a lot of his odd behavior. Caught somewhere between relief, embarrassment and that familiar flicker of heat in your belly, it’s now your turn to stutter as you answer. Tell him you don’t even need some corny roleplay to go along with it (or do, he’ll be giddy with excitement either way) and he’ll happily but shakily provide. Tell him to go all out and use you as a stress relief and when he really, really needs it and he’ll do just that. Whatever it is you seek, you’ll get it from him - but don’t forget, Buggy isn't someone who only gives, he’s curious about taking, too. So humor him and treat him just as he does you and you’ll both be happy with this little discovery.

Crocodile is nothing if not attentive. Gray eyes notice the way you shift while you sit yourself down, rake over the hand that you put on your still-hot skin to soothe any remaining stings, and register that you’re wearing briefs instead of shorter options when all he’s ever known you in are more risque pieces. A sports injury, a strain, any other harmless bruise that could have you in pain for a little bit, his brain comes up with a dozen answers to the question as to why your ass is tender - that you’ve doled out a generous punishment on yourself the night before is nothing that crosses his mind. He’s more than willing to let it slide, to let you escape into the night with a sore ass and him none the wiser but when you refuse to let him dress you down fully - that’s when he gets suspicious. Crocodile doesn’t like it when others are in on something he isn’t, and it’s even worse when that ‘other’ is you, his most prized possession. So he’ll demand an answer - and when you sputter and fidget underneath his watchful gaze, he’s not above asking you to strip in that tone you know very well, the one that doesn’t leave any room for discussions; just like the two of you agreed on when you started this relationship. And once he spots the reason (or more like reasons, because there are multiple of them almost splattered across your ass) for your out of line behavior- he has his answer. The revelation certainly raises an eyebrow. Or two. But most importantly, it begs the question: why didn’t you just tell him, ask him to implement it into the already existing dynamic? The more he thinks about it, the more he comes to the conclusion that this has been nothing but an incredibly big case of misbehavior on your part. He’s almost disappointed in you, little old always-so-good-for-him you, who never as much as blinks without his permission. Maybe there are remnants of brattiness in that thick head of yours, he muses. Remnants he’ll have to carefully scrape out, it seems. No matter; he’ll have to punish you now, anyways - because you harmed what’s his without his permission and he’ll have to show you just how unpleasant a thorough spanking can be. Your measly little hairbrush might leave you sore - his belt will leave you bloody and crying.  

Doflamingo, however, is the one to spot the marks on you. That man has no sense for privacy or personal space - try as you might, he’ll barge in after you’ve taken a shower, straight up rips your underwear apart, gives you a wedgie just to get to the globes of your ass or grabs a full hand of your fat and laughs as you wince- There are a million ways for him to literally stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and they all end up with you beyond embarrassed and him laughing something awful at the revelation that his little favorite has a hang for masochism. My, why didn’t you tell him? He could have given you the beating of your life by now, if only he had known what desires you harbor. It’s cute to him, cute and hilarious and utterly tantalizing. The discovery makes his hands itch - the moment you fess up to your little ‘self made’ escapades, you’ll find the world spinning and you propped up rather uncomfortably right over his lap, his right hand already raised to deliver a just punishment. Doflamingo isn’t a man to ask for permission - you admitting that you like getting spanked is enough consent to him - and he isn’t afraid of rushing into things, either. You’ll get the most unorthodox, breathtaking punishment of your life right then and there, without any count, any broken rules or sobbing about anything you’ve done wrong. He just beats your ass as if it’s the most entertaining thing in the world, laughs like a maniac and all you can do is flail underneath him, never knowing when he’ll stop. If you were able to look at his face, you’d see nothing but unbridled joy, almost boyish amusement as he brings his palm down again and again, with varying degrees of intensity and strength. He loves surprises, loves entertainment more than anything - and you providing him with such a gift delights him, shows him just how perfect you are. You might be wailing and sobbing, begging him to stop, to give you a break - but he’s lost in those little sounds and jerks coming from you, in his imagination that is running wild with pictures of you spanking yourself while he didn't know all this time. How rotten you truly are, deep down to the core… He’ll make sure that your interior matches your exterior, don’t worry about it.

[semyla]

Birthday disaster

Tw: No romance 👎 face rashes, skin problem.

Summary: You work for Crocodile in Cross Guild, and it was your birthday, sadly you didn’t get to enjoy it because of certain clown with a red nose had pulled a nasty prank on you.

You woke up early, more early than usual actually. It was your birthday and you had everything ready to show that you were celebrating it. It made you feel good the breakfast you got that morning.

Everyone around you had wished you a happy birthday, even your boss Sir Crocodile said happy birthday, not directly, but in his own way giving you the afternoon free from work if you finish early and leaving you to go out and do whatever you want. It made you very happy, and more the gift that Buggy left you, a face cream you used that day.

Buggy, was like an annoying little brother to you. Rarely when you weren’t at work you would spend time with him, sometimes he would prank you.

This time he has gone very far with them.

That face cream was going to turn your face red, just like if you had painted over it. Buggy was giggling to his idea, it was the best birthday prank he could have give you. Later on he was going to give you a cake, probably smash it on your face on it, who knows, he just anticipated for that reaction of yours.

As the hours had gone by, you did your best to focus on your paperwork in hopes to finish early, excited on to what you could do in your special day, maybe go to a spa or go eat your favorite food or maybe buy the things you have been eyeing on, since you been saving a lot of spending money for today. Okey, you need to stop and focus on your work, otherwise you will never finish. You thought to yourself.

You look in the mirror and then you scream, making your boss almost drop his cigar. You furiously ran out of your shared office, leaving a Crocodile confuse of what must have happened. He was definitely going to yell at you for doing that.

“BUGGY!!!” You scream furiously approaching his room, making him fall off and hide.

“BUGGY!!! IM GOING TO KILL YOU!!!” You screamed furiously.

“BUGGY ANSWER ME!!!” You said spinning around the room searching for him, the rage and itchiness had you blind.

“BUGGY! YOU EAT SHITTING CLOWN WHERE ARE YOU!!” You scream again, and scratch your neck.

He saw your face and was mortified when he saw the skin rashes growing on your face. As you scratch your neck in desperation looking around for him.

“DAMN YOU CLOWN!!! I WILLL MUDER YOU!!!” You screaming left the room, in search for him.

Buggy was horrified and mortified, now he was in deep shit.

Buggy ran out of the room, in opposite direction from you in hope not to encounter you. It’s been minutes now in the hallways he encouters Galdino.

“Galdino have you seen Crocodile’s assisatan?!” Buggy asked scare and desperate.

“I just know they came out screaming from Crocodile’s office, they had rashes all over their face” Galdino responded.

“Face rashes?!” Buggy repeated shocked, even when he saw it with his own eyes he still couldn’t believe the rashes you had.

“Rashes or some type of acne. I don’t know, but they look horrible” Galdino responded.

Buggy’s face drop and then worries for what will happen to him start rising now.

“What’s the matter? Did you have to do something with it?” Galdino asked him, smirking already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know what went wrong they were suppose to turn red like face paint the scream was suppose to be a small birthdays prank, were they furious?” Buggy jaw had dropped and went back right at his face as he talked scare for his life.

“Furious? Furious is very little” Galdino said.

“They going to send me to the after life, im going to die!” Buggy whine in terror.

“Have you dig your grave yet?” Galdino asked touching his nose making a honk noise.

“Noo!” Buggy slap his hand away.

Buggy heard your screaming voice and went on running out, making Galdino crack a laugh.

Sadly, when you went to find Galdino on the hallway Buggy was long gone, Galdino not giving you too many details of where he went and giving you nasty looks. It’s been hours and your face itches now, you had to pull bold moves.

You entered the Mihawk’s room he was having tea with Perona when they both turn to look at you shocked, at least Mihawk kept his shock hidden.

“Where is that imbecile you two call ‘partner’!?!?” You said entering furiously.

Mihawk and Perona looked at you, both still in shock.

“What happen?” Mihawk asked calmly, putting his tea down after he gave a sip.

“He gifted me a face cream for my birthday and I used it this mornig” You responded.

“Gross… Happy birthday” Perona said, looking at you, gross out and shocked with her hands on her face.

“What could have gone wrong?” Perona asked.

“Why would have this gone right?! Where was my head at for trusting that stupid clown!” You said hysterically.

“That’s not suppose to happen with face creams“ Perona said standing up.

“Well then it happen!” You responded back desperate.

“I could try to help you, it seems to get very bad though” Perona said standing up and flying up to you.

“Then move! I can’t have my face to look like this! it’s itching my whole face and it’s going to my neck!” You said desperately scratching.

Perona was about to rushed out until Buggy burst in.

“MIHAWCK YOU HAVE TO-“ Buggy looks around all of you three.

You stop scratching and you look at Buggy furious.“MIHAWK! PLEASE HELP ME!” Buggy yelled entering the room.

“CROCODILE’S ASSISTANT IS AFTER… me..” He stop after he saw you, Perona and Mihawk and started screaming after you started running towards him at full speed.

“That smells very good, I need to get a spoon of that” Alvina said, looking around for a spoon after smelling the food one of the chef was cooking up, Mr. 1 had gone inside looking for something to drink.

Alvina scream at the sight of a bodiless hand giving her a spoon, alerting Mr. 1.

“SHHH!” A voice said, the a hand opened a cabinet showing Buggy’s head inside.a cabinet.

“What are you doing!?” Alvina asked Buggy.

Buggy’s body part had jump out of the kitchen cabinet and had come together to make him whole.

“They have their face full of rashes and they want to kill me! Haave you seen their face?” Buggy said, Alvina was confuse, but Mr. 1 had already know what had happened. Buggy said.

“Yes, I have, I dont want to say horrible, but they look very bad” Mr. 1 said in a calm manner.

“You don’t even have to mention it!” Buggy yelled.

“What?” Alvina asked, looking at Daz.

“I’ll explain it to you later” Mr. 1 responded, looking back at her.

“The cream was supposed to be a prank! The cream was supposed to be a prank to turn their face red like facepaint no full of rashes!”

“I can imagine what kind of stupidity you pulled on them, thankfully not me” Alvida said touching her face, imagining what he could have done to your face.

“I dont know what happen! Maybe they used the cream wrong or mixed it! or something! Pleasee the gods from above on the sky protect me!” Buggy begged.

“Hell no! You can protect yourself outside!” Alvina yelled.

“But where am I suppose to go?!” Buggy asked.

“Outside! Go! Now!” Alvida yelled ready to kick him out, but Buggy bails.

Alvina looks back to Mr. 1, she chuckles a little and he shakes his head on how crazy the situation was. The den den moshi shows up it was a call from Crocodile to Mr. 1.

“Daz, where did my asistant ran off to?” Crocodile

“Last time I saw them they were in Mihawk’s office, after that they were running after Buggy” Daz Bones responded.

Of course that clown can never be out of trouble, Crocodile thought to himself. I got no time to be fooling around, bring them to me” Croccodile said and Mr. 1 hanged up, now he was in search of you.

“Bring me that clown and my assistance at once” Crocodile said before hanging up.

After Crocodile put the den-den moshi down, Mihawk and Perona came in, Perona holding skin products.

“Mihawk, Perona” Crocodile said acknowledging they presence in his office.

“Do you have any knowledge of what is going on between your assistant and that clown?” Mihawk said, making Crocodile sight and light up a cigar.

“I can’t be dealing with this” Crocodile said, exhaling the smoke from his mouth.

There was silence for a moment, before a loud screaming and yelling was heard, Daz now had join the situation, calmly preventing you from sending Buggy to meet his own creator and a filed of flower.

You grab Buggy by his hair while you walked At Crocodile’s office everyone had gathered around, tracking you and Buggy to solve the issues that was going on.

“I don’t hire you to scream and shout or to be fooling around with clowns” Crocodile said to you, after you ran off like that.

“Im very sorry sir, it will never happen again, I promise” You said apologetic.

“And you..” Crocodile turned to a very beat up Buggy. “How many times I told you to leave my assistant alone with those stupid pranks?”

“I’m very sorry, I won’t pull anymore pranks anymore” Buggy whine as his body kneel on the floor and his head being on Crocodile’s desk.

Crocodile grabs Buggy’s hair and tosses his head back to his beaten up body. While Perona use face products to heal the rashes on your face.

“I don’t even know how to thank you enough, Perona. You are a live savior, you are even doing so much for the cross guild, unlike certain clown”

“No problem! Although you should go follow a skin care routine more often, or go to a spa, we can go to-“ Perona interrupted by you.

“Okey, I get it, it’s bad. How long will it heal?” You asked.

“A month” Perona crossing her arms, not liking about you interrupted her.

“A month!?!” You said, you just wanted to kill yourself right there and there.

“A month! So, don’t go around without any facial cream or skin route!” Perona pouted.

“Im going to kill myself, and before doing so, im going to drag you to hell with me, Buggy!” You said passive aggressively, turning to look at Buggy.

“How is this my fault?! How was I supposed to know the prank was going to go this wrong!” Buggy said getting up in your face.

“Are you for real? Are you seriously asking-“ You said painfully grabbing his nose.

“Quiet, you two. As a matter for right now, I need you both to stop fooling around and get back to work, you are falling behind and you need to get us more money, without surpassing the budget” Crocodile said, ordering both of you to get back to work.

“Yes sir” Buggy and you said in Unison.

That day you lost your free day because of what happened, not only that you were exhausted, thankfully you had done some work done you ran off to kill Buggy. After you finished, Buggy had came up to you later that day, he apologize and brought you a cupcake that you threw at his face, making you both even.

[missakward123]

Wash, rinse and repeat?

Husband!Satoru X Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, cheating, jerk gojo

(Stealing and modification of work is prohibited.)

Empty promises and hollow faces. That is what your reality has come to be. You are lying on one side of the bed, pillow still moist with the tears you shed-courtesy of your ever loving husband. You glance over only to find him watching you intently lips slightly opening as if to speak out another useless 'sorry' or 'I promise I will not do it again'.

Liar.

He probably would because he would-both of you know it at this point. Do I still love him? you think to yourself and then shake your head slightly. You stopped doing that long ago-when you first caught him in your marital bed with another woman.

That bed was sold off the next morning, itself but the fact that Satoru brought you the bed as a wedding gift from his first Salary was ignored.

So why do I still stay with him? the question pierces your mind like an arrow and suddenly you remember a young naive you who believed in myths- unicorns, centaurs, nymphs, happy marriages, etc. the list goes on.

When you close your eyes, you see a flash of your past with him- picnics, dates to the Cafe next street, him making love to you on the beach, embarrassing each other in public, and....well everything. You are reminded of the Satoru you fell in love with. It counts if it happened, right? right?

You open your eyes and meet his gorgeous blue orbs, almost wishing to forgive him so you could lose yourself in them again as you did when you first met him- his glasses hanging low on his nose and a self assured confident smile who could have the entire world if he tried.

"What does she have that I don't"- is what you would ask if it was the same 'she' but sadly he is not loyal to her them either.

It is a different girl each time, and surprisingly all of them look like you- same hair colour, body type, dressing type, same makeup- same everything as if chosen specifically to mock you.

"Why" You ask your voice threatening to crack, eyes red and puffy from tears not that he could see the pain even if he looked deep in your soul.

"I was trying to replace you." He answers as if he had just been asked if he would like to have breakfast, his back turned away from you as if he does not want to look at you with how you are looking right now- he probably does not.

You look good, okay? but well who does look good after arguing and crying for 4 hours?

B!tch.

You say nothing and as if his answer is not a blow enough he says-

"I failed."

A/N: hey english is not my first language (it's my third btw) but I tried my best, pleasee comment your suggestions- reblogs and likes are appreciated. Also who likes cheating gojo raise your hands......good now go buy clown shoes.

[lennsart]

Hello! For the WIP ask game, how about “bullshitting”? Is this also Legend-centric? 👀 so excited to know more!

YAYY I'm happy someone asked about this one :D because NO, shockingly, it is NOT Legend-centric ! And it's not sad, either ! (*gasps in the audience*)

If I manage to write it one day, it would be a fic with 9 chapters (each one centered on one Link), where the situation is chaotic and they need to bullshit their way out of it. The chapters would be organized from the Link you'd most expect to be chaotic to the one you'd less expect it !

And, well, I think I'm just going to put my notes bare-boned on here, because it'll be better than any summary (and I find them pretty funny myself dshjdshjhsddsj)

"Every Link is a master at bullshitting their audience. Some are willing to, some are reluctant. But if the situation ask for it, they will create chaos in a heartbeat !

More likely to less likely :

Wild Wind Hyrule Four Legend Time Sky Twilight Wars

Wild and Wind : please ask them to create a distraction. They have so many ideas, come on. They need chaos like they need oxygen.

Hyrule : aaw, he's so calm and quiet he wouldn't want to... Oh, oh he bites. Oh he's running away with Wild

Four and Legend : pretend they don't like chaos. Thrive in it. Are goddamn theater kids and their plans are usually way more dramatic than needed.

Time : he's, like, the father figure, he won't be pulled into bullshitterie that easi— what was that ? He's encouraging the younger ones to create chaos ? What do you mean he's actively participating ??

Sky : 'Hyrule type' except he weaponizes it. The reason he's so low on the list isn't because he doesn't like chaos, it's because he's got such a perfect angel face, you'd believe he never wronged anyone in his life. Wind knows. Sky is a key piece in most of his plans. The rest of the chain is unaware.

Twilight : he's the reasonable one, but he has a little silly in him. He can be talked into bullshit. He will complain about it, but he puts his whole heart in his role when it's time to act.

Wars : Actively tries to prevent chaos from happening. Fails most of the time. Grumbles a lot about failing. But if the situation needs it ? If the man in front of him will only give him the information he wants this way ? Then by Hylia, he'll put on a red nose and clown shoes if it makes their quest go forward."

This is one of the most unserious ways I have planned a fic fdjkfdjjkdf But in every game Link is an agent of chaos and I just want to see them use their talent ! You can notice that the notes are pretty vague though, because I just have vibes for now, and no part is written down. I just need to create situations now !

[dianthus-is-moving]

Describe your F/O to the person who may not know them well! Then tag 10 people to do the same.  I invite any followers who want to fill this out for their f/o(s), I’m always too shy to actually tag people 🙈 If you wanna do it, feel free!!

Thanks for the tag @ungalobrando!! Get ready, I have lots of thoughts about this man, some of these are headcanons because he deserves better

NAME: Hiromi Higa / Shadow

SOURCE: Sk8 the Infinity

TITLE(S): Lord Shadow, Anti-Hero of S (also dad and peepaw)

PET NAME(S): Honey bear, Romi-bear, punkin pie, piggie, sweet boy, my man (last one is almost always said in weird babytalk voice)

STATUS: Alive

SPECIES: Human / clown

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Questioning / Bi (there’s no way he’s 100% straight)

PRONOUNS: He/him (sometimes she/her)

AGE: Twenty-freakin-FOUR!! (Though I’ve heard season 1 of Sk8 possibly takes place in 2019... So I guess he’d be around 27-28 now?? Good - our age gap is less than I thought 😅)

HEIGHT: 178cm / 5′10″ (looks taller as Shadow due to hair / boots... also I think this show pulls a Jojo sometimes and character heights are subjective to the situation bc he looks HUGE compared to the other characters at times)

WEIGHT: Only 73kg / 160lbs canonically but I refuse to believe that... there’s no way a hefty dude like him weighs so little. I think 170-180 AT LEAST is more reasonable for him, considering his size.

BODY TYPE: HIM BIG. Brawny and top-heavy. Broad-shouldered, muscular and somewhat toned but still a bit of chub - think rugby player build. Finding pants in Japan is a STRUGGLE cuz he’s tall and he ass too big. Skating is probably great for the buns and thighs tho

SKIN: Sorta medium beige with cool undertones. Would be SO cute with a farmer’s tan 🥺 Paints his nails sometimes. No real tattoos or piercings because he's too babie (I think he has a tongue ring only bc he lost a bet or had a rebellious streak when he was younger)

HAIR: Fluffy ginger undercut/mohawk. The depth of red in his hair changes with the lighting.

EYES: Gray, but very reflective and expressive

ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good/Chaotic neutral... I think...

INTERESTS: His manager 😂😭 flowers, flower language, gardening, music, board games, fitness / body building, makeup, drag, shoujo manga / anime, skateboarding, wrestling, languages (he speaks both English and French to some degree, and knows some Latin... I will not be convinced otherwise)... also kinda nosy and likes to learn about people. Dude’s got the gossip.

PROFESSION: Florist 💐

SKILLS: Skateboarding, makeup, creativity, sarcasm, costume design, minor pyrotechnics, acting, heavy lifting, customer service, flower arranging, driving (apparently drifting / rally style? Skrrt skrrrt?? WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT SIR???)

He definitely can also touch his nose AND elbows with his tongue (... Is that a skill?!)

WEAKNESSES: Baseball bats 😂😭 poor baby, but for real... Insecurities, confidence, quick temper, inferiority / feeling like he has to prove himself, overthinking

COMPANIONS: Them boys!!! Aside from his own crew of followers at S, he serves as a brotherly figure / uncle / bruncle to the younger boys. Probably closest to Miya out of the main character group. Friends with Kaoru, idolizes Joe a bit and wants to be closer with both. Reki and Langa have tried to push him closer to Oka 👀

ENEMIES: KAZU (I genuinely hope Hiromi absolutely fucked his shit up and put him in the hospital too)(”Yeah I look bad, but you should see what I did to the other guy”)

PETS: No animals, but lots of house plants. I could see him having fish if anything, especially an aquarium with plants. Probably a fan of marimo moss balls 🥺

WEAPONS: 💪THESE GUNS💪 firecrackers (haemanthus bomb), laser pointer (gladiolus laser), snake ribbon things (violet spider) and apparently 80+ other secret attacks... I guess you could also count his board and the spikes on his costume??

SUBSTANCES: Alcohol (kind of a lightweight), he had cigarettes in the host club drama??? 😬 Hopefully smoking's just an occasional social thing

DRIVER LICENSE?: See above (yes - and he does deliveries for work in that car. Skrrt skrrt.)

[uwuwriting]

Anger issues w/ Dabi, Bakugou and Aizawa

Request: I’m the type of person who doesn’t get angry very easily but when I do I’m really scary and people back off. Can I request Dabi, Bakugou and either Shiggy or Aizawa with a girlfriend who is just like that and the first time they see her angry they are so confused like how did their quiet s/o turn into the devil. Thank you. 

Lmao I’m like that as well. Big mood. People underestimate me and think they can walk all over me just because I’m polite. Bitch nah imma stab you in your sleep in 2-3 business days. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: cursing, some violence, threats *creative ones as well*

Dabi/Touya Todoroki 

-Baby was the equivalent of the pikachu meme. 

-You were both chillin at his place watching TV.

-Actually he was laying down, head in your lap as he played Among us on his phone while you changed channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch. 

-As you were mindlessly zapping through the channels you stumbled upon an interview with none other than the number 1 hero, Endeavor himself. 

-Your finger froze over the channel button as you stared at the hero in front of you. 

-You felt Dabi stiffen in your lap, his character staying still on the screen as his father’s voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment. 

- “Doll could you change th-” 

- “I’m thinking of retiring, yes. My family is my top priority and I would like to spend some quality time with them. Family is very imp-”

- “Shut your clown ass up!”

-The remote went flying barely missing the TV as you launched it at the hero’s face. 

- “If I have to hear any more bullshit coming out of your mouth I will march to wherever you are and beat you to a fucking plump got it?” 

- “Babe he can’t hear you.”

- “I don’t give a shit! He will hear me when my hands are squeezing his WINDPIPE!”

-And with that you shot up from the couch, sending Dabi rolling to the floor in the process. 

-Marching out of the living room, he heard the door slam shut and then a muffled scream before the only sound was the words coming from the TV.

-He had whiplash after that. 

-He didn’t know what exactly happened but he was glad in some weird way. 

-He knows that you don’t get angry easily, hell he couldn’t get you to snap at him even when he tried his best. 

-Sure he irritates you but you have never actually snapped like this before. 

-Your calm and collected nature calms him down so seeing you curse and be so violent all of a sudden got him riled up. 

-Making his way to your shared room he opened the door finding you curled up on your bed with an angry expression on your face. 

-Nose scrunched up, mouth in a scowl and  brows furrowed. 

-Letting out a small chuckle he took his place behind you bringing his lanky arms around your waist as he turned you around,your nose barely grazing his, eyes burning holes in his chest.

-He brought his forefinger in between your brows and made small circles at the spot, watching as your facial expression relaxed a bit but the scowl was still there. 

- “Stop thinking about it you’ll get a headache.” 

- “I wanna punch him in the dick.”

- “I wanna do that too but it can wait.” 

-Kissing your forehead first he started trailing little pecks all over your face, being satisfied by the small giggles he could get out of you. 

-This is why I love you.

Bonus: 

- “That was the hottest thing I have seen.” 

- “You are getting dommed tonight, lover boy.” 

- *flustered burned boy*

Bakugou Katsuki 

-He is the one who is angry in your relationship.

-We’ve been new. 

-You are his damage control, you can always calm him down and put some sense into him. 

-Most of the time he listens to your every word. 

-So everyone assumed that since you put up with his shit without batting an eyelash, never showing a sign of anger, you can’t get angry. 

-That your anger was that little puff of your cheeks and scrunch of your nose that Bakugou adores. 

-No one has ever seen you angry so you don’t blame them. 

-But everyone has that one thing that just makes them snap *for me it’s Endeavor*

-You were training with class 1-B when that dickhead Monoma decided to fuck with your boyfriend. 

-They were fighting, throwing insults at each other non-stop when Monoma decided to be a dick. 

- “Why are you even in this class huh? You would be more useful to the villains. It would be so easy for you too, I bet you don’t need much of a push to join them, don’t you Bakugou.” 

-Bakugou may not like talking about it but you know. 

-The thoughts that haunt him. 

-He was kidnapped and saw his idol be brought down because the League believed that he would make a great entry to their group. 

-His own mind works against him sometimes, reminding him of the looks of fear most of the people in his life have when it comes to him. 

-He hates it. 

-What breaks him even more though is being reminded out loud about those thoughts. 

-Having them confirmed by someone else. 

-He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the other boy in pure horror when he saw a flash of color and Monoma was now laying face down a few feet away. 

-You were panting, hands clenched in fists as you stared at the boy in outer disgust, a vein popping on your forehead. 

-Bakugou was silent watching your shoulders frantically going up and down, pure rage emanating from your demeanor.

-In the blink of an eye you were on top of Monoma, lifting him off the ground, a snarl escaping your lips.

- “You fucking piece of shit I’ll fucking stab your parents if you say anything like that again!”

-Everyone was shooketh.

-Absolutely terrified but still shooketh.

-Monoma scrambled off the moment you let him go spewing apology after apology. 

- “Baby you okay?” 

-How the fuck was your voice back to normal? How was it so soft as if nothing happened? As if you didn’t just pin down and threaten someone. 

- “Y-Yeah I’m fine.”

-The class was afraid of you for the next four months. 

Bonus:

- “Baby, you got so fired up.”

- “No one talks shit about you!”

- “I know but wow that was hot.”

Aizawa Shouta 

-Shouta is used to the comments made about him. 

-People doubt him as both a hero and a teacher at times and he has learned not to let it get to him. 

-He believed that you had closed those comments off as well, you didn’t show any signs of them bothering you at least. 

-Sure you might make a small comment whenever you hear something but you never snapped at someone. 

-He knew that you prefered tranquility, it was his calm nature that attracted you in the first place *and the fact that he was smoking hot*.

-So when you actually snapped at someone he was taken aback and super turned on. 

-Like wow that woman right there giving someone a heart attack is his wife? 

-Wow.

-You were both at a hero conference, meeting up with some of your old colleagues to catch up and to get some insight in the hero industry. 

-Yall wanted the tea. 

-You two were attached to the hip, never leaving each  other's side as you enjoyed yourselves. 

-You were  chatting with a retired heroine who had helped you in the past when you heard murmuring coming from behind you. 

- “I heard that one of his students got kidnapped during the summer.” 

- “Of course he would let that happen, what could he possibly be a reliable individual? He was a delinquent and a vigilante, irresponsibility is in his blood.” 

-Shouta felt you stiffen as your gaze shadowed over.

 - “Kit- um Y/N?”

-The two continued dissing your husband and you tried to calm yourself down, you really did.

 -But they made it really really hard.

- “He went on live television and gave excuses for that whole ordeal.”

- “You think he was trying to pass the blame?”

- “Of course he was! He has no sense of dignity, leaving his students to fight while he slept and then letting one of them be kidnapped like that.”

-Now he started getting scared because your grip on his arm had tightened and you wouldn’t look at him. 

-He thought that you were having a panic attack and it's OUR panic attack so the convention would have to deal with two UA teachers breaking down.

-But then you let go and a sweet smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the duo.  

- “It comes from the bottom of my heart when I say that I need you to sit you maniac ass down and be quiet for the rest of the fucking night because don’t think I would hesitate to beat your punkass in front of all those people. If I hear Shouta’s name come out of your lips again I will personally make sure that you won’t be able to formulate words for the next five fucking months.”

-Not even a peep came out of those two for the rest of the evening, their eyes always darting between you and your husband, cold sweat running down their spines every time one of you made eye contact with them. 

- “Y/N, kitty, that wasn’t necessary.”

- “You talk shit you get wrecked, period.” 

Bonus: 

- “Come on Shouta we’re going home.” 

- “We’ve only been here for an hour, kit-”

- “You are either blowing my back out or staying here, choose.” 

- “Home it is.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @bemorefiction​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​

[winterscaptain]

a kindness.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it is loving megan kane hours!! i’ve been working on this one for a while and i am so excited to share it with you!! we have ajf!pleasure is my business at last! as always, tell me what you think!! i adore your feedback. also, if you’re thinking ‘what the hell, tali! why am i missing from the tag list?????’ it’s because i redid it! the link to the form is below.

words: 4.8k warnings: language, canon-typical death, canon-typical discussion of sex work

summary: “i believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” ― steve martin. au!february 2009

a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You rap twice on the office door before pushing it open with your fingertips, peering inside while ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

There’s no need. Aaron’s alone. 

“You’re here early,” he says, his eyes still on his paperwork. 

You snort. “So are you.” 

He looks at you over his nose. “Can I help you with something?”

Sitting down opposite him at his desk, you prop your chin on your hands and grin at him. “You stole my line.” 

“Get out of my office.” 

Your smile stays plastered on your face as you stand and cross the room, closing the door behind you. On your way out, you catch the ghost of his smile. 

+++

You watch Hotch leave the bullpen, his go-bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Where you headed?” You ask, looking up. You’re still the only one in the bullpen, taking a few consults off your teammates’ hands by typing up quick briefs they can review without going through every single comma in the file. 

He sighs. “Dallas.”

Yikes. 

“By yourself?”

He sighs. “Standby - not sure what’s going on yet. Can you -” He gestures to the hallway behind you.  

You nod and stand. “Yeah. Fly safe.” 

After you watch him leave, you turn and make a beeline for JJ’s office. She’s here early, too - pushing away the separation anxiety by diving into work. 

“Jayje?” 

She looks away from her computer, looking exhausted. “Yeah?” 

“Hotch just left for Dallas - we might have a case there, but it didn’t sound like something that would come across your desk.” 

She squints. “Why d’you say that?” 

“He had that look on his face like he was going into a room full of lawyers.” 

+++

You lean forward, jamming yourself into the circle around the table with the rest of your team. Hotch, on the other end of the line, sounds oddly well-rested. 

Spencer, as usual, gives you the history and textbook briefing before you get to the actual case. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies.” 

“Because there’s no sexual gratification when a woman kills,” Derek adds. 

Looks like we’re all getting in on the pre-brief today. 

“Exactly. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra.” 

That makes you laugh a little. “So, basically, women are more efficient at killing?” 

Spencer shrugs. “Historically, they’ve had body counts in the hundreds.” 

Hotch, of course, is the one to get you all back on track. “So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?”

Derek, of course, is the first to follow. “Money, drugs, post-traumatic stress disorder…”

The team bounces for a moment, covering previous cases of serial killers with a history of sex work. Emily brings up Allison Wuornos, but Aaron shuts it down. He thinks this killer is organized, not so much driven by trauma or need but the mission itself. 

Spencer looks at the medical examiner’s reports again, comparing notes between the victims. “She’s using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine.” 

You don’t look up from the same report. “Bless you.” 

Emily snorts. 

Spencer continues, unperturbed. “It’s a popular rat poison in China - easily soluble in alcohol.” 

“Poison is the perfect M.O.,” Dave notes. “Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they’re getting lucky.” He turns back toward the phone. “Does that mean something to you?” 

“Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex.” 

Fair point.

“She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly.” 

You look over at Dave, trying to find the thread that connects Aaron’s thought to his.

Before you can really get to it yourself, Aaron spells it out for you. “She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them.” 

There we go. 

“So she's not just organized,” you add. “She's also methodical. Could she be parsing out which clients are worth killing and which aren’t?” 

“Maybe the victims all share the same fetish?” Emily offers. 

Derek shrugs, his eyebrows raised in thoughtful agreement. “Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible. Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it.” 

“And we're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out.”

There’s the exhaustion I’m used to from Hotch. 

He sounds weird without it. 

“Actually,” JJ says, “I had some luck there. Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died. But because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement.” 

JJ pulls the statement from her file and reads aloud: “Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.” She puts it down again. “They're already trying to close ranks.” 

Spencer frowns. “Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?” 

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

“The press release from the first victim.” He recalls, not needing the paper itself. “‘According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home.’” 

Hotch begins to make assignments, directing Emily and Derek to the wife of the second victim. JJ’s tasked with the lawyers and you’re tasked with setup at the precinct with Spencer and Dave. When he’s done, you pick your phone up from the table, taking him off speaker. 

“What are you gonna do?” You ask.

Hotch snorts. “I’m gonna see which of the lawyers calls us back and in the meantime, see what I can get out of anyone else.” 

“Good luck.” 

+++

You’re up in your hotel room, getting a little bit settled and unpacked when you get a call to your cell. 

“Hey, Hotch.” 

There’s a sigh. “We got another body.” 

“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” 

+++

You hop out of the car, following Aaron through the service entrance and up the back hallways to the lobby. Between your travel from your room and Aaron’s wrap-up in his, Derek and Dave beat you to the scene. 

Hotch is wearing that coat - your favorite, the one he’s apparently had for years - with the red lining and the soft wool exterior. It so rarely sees the field anymore you were afraid he’d done away with it, but every time you remember it exists and worry about its whereabouts, he brings it out again. 

Derek hands you a notebook when you reach him. You settle near Dave for the rest of the info. He, of course, delivers. 

“Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here.” 

You frown. “Poisoned? Like the others?” 

“And staged,” Derek says. “She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found.” 

“The lipstick's new,” you muse, circling the body in the elevator. “Done postmortem, it looks like.” You find Derek’s eyes with a little frown. “Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable.”

He hums. “Now she wants to be noticed.”

There’s some kind of scuffle at the police line - another man in a suit who thinks he’s more important than God. 

Hopefully he’s looking for Hotch. 

“Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?” 

Ugh. Good. 

You step back and point at Aaron, getting out of his way as he shoves past the crime scene techs. 

Aaron turns. “I'm Hotchner.” 

“Larry Bartlett.” The man holds out his hand, but Aaron doesn’t take it. He retracts his hand with an unperturbed tilt of his head. “I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries. 

Hotch, as usual, has no time for his bullshit. “This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett.” 

My lawyer could kick your lawyer’s ass. 

That’s a good bumper sticker. 

You shake off your thought and return to the victim, directing one of the younger crime scene techs. After a moment, you return to Derek’s side. 

“Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels.” This clown still sounds far too confident for his own good. “She said you're a very... reasonable man.” 

“Escort him out, please.”

You stifle a laugh. 

“No, wait. Please.” The lawyer - Mr. Bartlett - shrugs off the security team and chases after Hotch on his way to your side.  

Aaron stops, but looks inconvenienced in the extreme. 

“The press is outside and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?” 

“We're not about to lie for you.” Derek’s even less amused than Aaron, if that’s even possible. 

Aaron squints at the other lawyer, and you find it nearly impossible to tear your gaze from the little pinch at the corners of his brown eyes. 

You can only imagine him behind a prosecutor’s bench, laying into witnesses with the same deadpan amusement - like a bored cat with a half-dead mouse. Hoping to back him up a little bit, you get a little closer, looking skeptically at the lawyer from over Aaron’s shoulder. 

“You don't have to lie,” Mr. Bartlett insists, his eyes flickering to you. “Just don't comment.” 

“Excuse us.” He takes you by the shoulder and leads the three of you into a huddle. 

“Is there any reason to go public yet?” Aaron asks. 

Dave wavers. “Validating her is exactly what she wants.”

“If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake,” Derek says. 

You raise your eyebrows, looking over your shoulder for a moment. “He doesn't need to know that.” 

Hotch’s mouth twitches, and you know it’s almost a smile. He turns over his shoulder, back in game mode as he approaches Bartlett again. “We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything.” 

+++

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats.” Spencer rattles off the numbers with only the barest hint of shock in his voice. 

Your brow pinches and you look up. “Can you even boat in Dallas?” 

“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Em,” you laugh. 

She rolls her eyes, still pinning photos to the board. “Yeah, right. My mom had a pretty cushy gig with her postings, but we were never that well-off. But...” She looks over her shoulder, “I’m sure Rossi would know a little something about that.”  

Before you can all get too out of control, Hotch reaches over you to connect to Garcia on the speakerphone. “Are you there, Garcia?” 

“Affirmative.” 

JJ flags him down. “I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave...” 

It really takes everything in you not to laugh. 

“...and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is… wrong.” 

Emily pulls a face. 

“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Spencer asks.  

“Yeah,” Aaron replies. “His ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups for the first two, but he did everything he could to cut them off anyway.” 

You lean forward, trying to see the paper in his hands. “Are there children involved?” 

“Yes, with three of the wives.” He hands it over to you and looks at Emily. “Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?” 

She nods in the affirmative. 

“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick.” 

Tell me about it, Pen. 

Emily sounds resigned. “What did you find?” 

Garcia outlines a series of bitter court battles about child support, alimony, custody, etc. “And even when the court ruled in the wife’s favor - which was almost always - these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay.” 

Hotch asks for a cross-checked list of high-profile Dallas CEOs holding out on their ex-wives, and you figure it’s not a short one. 

“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out.” 

The line goes dead and Aaron turns off the speaker.  

“So,” Aaron leans heavily on the table. “Why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?” 

Spencer obliges. “For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him.” 

“They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold.” JJ shakes her head and looks over at Hotch, seeking an answer. 

“Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.” 

There’s an odd kind of look that passes over Aaron’s face as he speaks, and you pin it for later. You can already tell he’s falling into a headspace that’s fraught with comparison and self-loathing. 

They bounce around for a moment while you keep your eyes on Aaron. 

“Well,” JJ brings you back. “Should I assemble the police for a profile?” 

Your mouth twists. “I just don't think it's gonna help.”

“She lives in a completely different world than they do,” Aaron adds. 

“And,” Emily pipes up, “the CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it.” 

JJ snorts. “Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them.” 

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Aaron stands straight, his hands resting on his hips. “They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman.” 

“Why would they go for that?” You ask. 

“Because she's putting them at risk, too.”

Your phone rings and you answer as you always do, chirping your last name into the receiver without really looking too closely at the caller ID. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

You nod once to your team as you step out of earshot. “Hey, Haley.”

“I can’t get a hold of Aaron. Is everything alright?” She’s beyond surprise or concern at this point. You’re sure you could tell her Aaron’s been shot in the head and she’d probably just hum at you. 

“Yeah,” you say with a sigh. “Things are crazy and there are lawyers all wrapped up in this. Are you alright?”

“Jack’s got a fever - I just wanted to let Aaron know I’m taking him in to get checked out. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know. Give Jack a big kiss from me and I’ll do my best to get us all home quickly and in one piece.” 

She laughs a little into the phone. “Thanks. Will do. Talk soon.” 

You hang up and return to the table, shooting Hotch a significant look. He nods and pulls you aside. 

“What’s up?” 

“Jack has a fever - Haley just wanted me to let you know she’s taking him to the pediatrician to get him all checked out, just in case. I told her we’d all do our best to get home soon.” 

Aaron sighs and flips his phone in his hand. “I’ll call her now…”

“No need. She knows this is a tough one and you’re getting your money’s worth out of your JD this week.” 

When he starts to walk away, you call his name again. He turns. 

“You know - um.” You wet your lips and swallow. “You’re not like these guys. You know that, right? You’re a great dad.” 

His face lifts in surprise for a fraction of a second before he recovers. 

“Thank you,” He says. “Really.”

You offer him a crooked smile. “Anytime.”

+++

Hotch stops you all before you enter the conference room, full to the brim with suits and pantsuits. “Let me lead on this one. I’ve handled corporate lawyers like this before and they can smell blood.” He snorts. “This time, it’s their own.” 

You and Derek raise your hands in simultaneous and identical postures of surrender. 

“Have at it,” you say, falling into line behind Aaron. “Corporate lawyers scare the fuck out of me.” 

+++

“Hey, Prentiss. Got a whip?” Derek holds the leather outfit to Emily’s shoulders and she laughs. 

“Yeah, right.” 

You fondly roll your eyes at them and continue following off Aaron’s right shoulder. The two of you reach the bookshelf - an impressive glass case that runs from the floor to the ceiling. 

 Aaron’s gloved finger opens the case and runs over some of the spines. “Antique first editions on the bookshelves.” 

Rossi quips something about porn in the DVD player while Spencer espouses about the merits of a disposable, adaptable lifestyle in this line of work. 

“Well, these aren't just for show,” Aaron says. “The spines are cracked. Somebody's read these.” 

You peer over his shoulder. “Who reads Voltaire in French?” 

“Someone with good taste. Probably well-educated…”

You pick up where he trails off. “We profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?” 

“You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?” 

You shrug. “It’s a possibility, at least.” 

Just then, the apartment phone rings. 

“Prentiss should answer,” Aaron says. “If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them.” 

You hum, hedging your bets a little. ‘Unless she's calling in for her messages.” 

Too late. Derek’s already on the phone with Penelope. “Yeah, Baby Girl, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?” 

“I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few. I'm gonna stay on the line.” 

Aaron gives her the go-ahead. “Prentiss, get ready to vamp.” 

The voicemail picks it up before Emily can so much as reach for the phone. 

“Hi, it's me. You know what to do.” Beep. 

“...Aaron.” 

You turn your head so fast you throw your neck out. You raise a hand to the crick and work it with your fingers. Aaron’s too busy frowning at the phone to notice. 

“I know you're up there. Pick up… Aaron Hotchner... Hello?” She drags out her words, almost flirting with everyone listening. 

With a sigh, Aaron pushes past the rest of you, silently counts to three, and picks up the phone while Emily clicks the speakerphone button. 

“I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, But I don't know yours. Can we start there?” 

Nice start. 

The game has begun. 

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron.”

What? 

The pinch between his brows deepens. “Who says you can't?” 

“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”

Yes.  

“No.” Aaron wets his lips and begins to pace, the gears whirring in his head. “It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.” 

The woman continues as if he hasn’t said anything at all. “And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube...” 

She has good taste. That’s an excellent presentation. 

“...And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.” 

“But I've disappointed you, haven't I?” He asks. “Just like all the other men in your life Who've walked out on their families, Who deserve to be punished.” 

“Did you walk out on your family?” 

His eyes flicker to you and you nod, nearly imperceptibly, reminding him he’s not alone. “No. My wife left me.” 

“Do you have kids?” 

“I have a son.” 

A sweet, thoughtful, perfect son. 

You smile a little, thinking of Jack, but it disappears when you remember that he’s home sick with Haley, probably having a miserable time. 

“How often do you see him?” She asks. 

 “I try to see him every week.” 

“Do you see him every week?” The question is mocking, smothered in dark amusement that could almost be called sarcasm save for its bitterness.  

“No,” Aaron’s eyes fall to the floor. “No, I don't get there as often as I want.” 

“I believe you.” Her response is softer, and you think she might make a decent profiler if she wasn’t on the other side. 

She is a profiler. 

In some ways, you suppose it’s true. She has to read and respond to everything her clients do, say, how they behave. It makes her good at her job and you good at yours. 

Same skillset, very different application. 

“But don't compare yourself to the men I see,” she continues. “You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.” 

Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear someone call Aaron Hotchner a whore. Unironically. 

That catches everyone’s attention, even Derek’s, still on hold with Penelope. 

“How am I a whore?” He asks. 

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars.” 

Derek, behind you, presses. “Garcia.” 

You can hear her, faintly. “I'm in on the landline. Triangulating the cell. Give me like sixty seconds.” 

You gesture to Aaron when he looks. Keep going. 

He nods. “But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?” 

She sighs, sounding a little impatient for the first time. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way.” 

“No, Aaron.” You almost startle, her tone escalating to a deeply frustrated shout. “You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket.” 

She’s crying now, actively. “You just want me to disappear, just like they do.” 

“Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you.” 

Now that’s a tone you recognize - you’ve heard it when he talks to Haley. Most recently, when he couldn’t make it to some appointment or another. It’s one that’s disarming in the extreme, soft, but not condescending. 

“You've been betrayed so many times, You don't know who to trust, And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Am I right?” 

Just like Haley always does, the woman loses steam, sniffling once before answering. “Yeah.”

“Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.” 

“If we met under different circumstances... I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up.” 

A gunshot rings through the line and you flinch, turning to Derek just as the line goes dead. You know Penelope will have something for you soon. 

She never fails, directing you to an address only moments after the elevator doors close in front of the team. 

+++

Once you found Megan Kane, it was easy enough to find her father. 

You could empathize with her mission well enough after meeting him. He’s shrouded by his lawyers - detached and seemingly indifferent to anything Aaron had to say. 

Aaron starts the car and you settle back into the seat. “So, the wall of lawyers strikes again.” 

A shadow of a smile ghosts around the creases at the corners of his eyes. “So it seems.” 

“What’s next?” 

“We tail him - home and office. He’ll meet with her soon enough.” 

Your brow furrows. “Not to protect her, right? It doesn’t seem like he cares that much.” 

Aaron turns, placing his hand on the back of your seat as he pulls out of the parking spot. You’re momentarily distracted as he turns back, spinning the wheel with the heel of his hand and gunning it out of the garage. 

Focus. 

“No,” he says. “Think about it.” 

It comes to you only seconds later. “To protect himself.” 

“There you go.” He turns to you, another little smile threatening. “You’re getting pretty good at this.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been here over a year, Hotch. I’d fucking hope so.” 

You’re rewarded with a real smile, and it’s enough. 

+++

You take Derek’s six through the hotel, clearing the floors and reporting back to the rest of the team. SWAT is in full deployment, clearing the hard-to-reach areas like the stairways and rooftops, just in case. 

Aaron catches up to you, taking the four o’clock position off your left shoulder as Derek breaches the door. 

The gun and chilled champagne sit like ironic centerpieces on the entry table, but they hardly use any of your bandwidth as you clear the room, your vision narrowed by the sight of your service weapon. 

You hold a hand up when you catch the figure on the balcony. “Hotch.” 

He squints, and you move to raise your gun again and make the arrest, but he stops you with a hand over yours. “Easy.” 

There’s a question in your eyes. 

He, of course, answers it. “She knows it’s over.” 

Just then, she places an empty champagne glass on the table where you can see it. 

“I’ll call 911,” Derek says, stepping out and closing the door behind him. 

You turn to leave with Derek, but catch Aaron’s open hand, subtly signaling you from just under his hip.  

Stay here. It says. Stay close. 

So, you stay. You lean on the far wall of the hotel room, watching Aaron hold the hand of this dying, hurting woman. They’re speaking softly, and she smiles at him when she drops something into his hand. His eyes are soft, gentle, not even searching. Just warm. 

You feel for her. 

It’s the best way to go, you think. If there was ever a time you were dying before your time, you’d want Aaron there, holding your hand, telling you he was going to continue the work that killed you, that it was gonna be okay. 

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” You hear her ask. 

As much as you love Haley, the same question often floats through your head, and your heart aches for this woman who’s been able to see Aaron so clearly, even if she’s only seeing him for the first time now. 

“You’re the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t let me down.” 

You creep forward, further into Aaron’s eyeline, and sit on the edge of the couch. She’s close to her last breath and you can feel it - so can Aaron. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to her. 

Megan’s voice is full of tears when she asks, “Will you stay with me?” 

You have a feeling it isn’t the first time she’s asked the question and you find yourself hoping Emily will be particularly rough with the handcuffs when she apprehends Mr. Kane. Hopefully he didn’t make it past the checkpoint and is still on-site.  

“Yes.” Aaron is solemn, so sincere, so genuine it makes your heart ache. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

You’re not even sure he realizes it, but he’s doing her a great kindness - one that many would not offer. 

It’s because he is good.

A good man. 

The tension drains out of her, and she grips tightly to Aaron’s hand as she fights through her final breaths. His hands are gentle, his attention only on her. He looks more like a father in this moment than any other time you’ve known him. She’s safe. She knows she can die in peace. 

Once more, you hope you have the opportunity to leave this plane of reality in such safety, when your time comes. 

When she’s gone, he places her hand in her lap and takes a moment to brush the hair off of her face, pressing the back of his fingers to her temple as if checking her for fever. 

After a minute or so, he turns to you, and you hope the pride and respect coursing through you is evident in your gaze. You pull an evidence bag out of your pocket, but he shakes his head, pocketing the SIM card. 

You rise as he gets closer, returning the evidence bag to your pocket. He’s clearly affected, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. 

Opening your arms to him, he wilts into you, allowing you to gather him into your shoulder. His arms are loose around your waist, his fingers wrapped around his opposite wrist as an anchor. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and you’d hate to make him feel anything less than safe. 

You still have a minute or so before they all come stomping through the door to collect Megan’s body. 

“I’m sorry, Hotch.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know why this one hurts.”

Your arms tighten around him. “It’s okay. I feel it, too.” 

A deep, shaky breath rolls through him. 

“She’s right, you know.” You almost regret your words, afraid you’re giving yourself away. 

“What?”

“You didn’t let her down. You’re a good man.” 

His jaw tightens, and you can feel it against your neck where his head falls into your shoulder. 

“Oh, stop. You’ve never let me down.” Your hand reaches up, stroking the back of his head, carding your fingers through the hair. “She died knowing you kept your promise.” 

+++

You look up to Aaron’s office when news of the leak breaks, finding his silhouette haunting the window, staring at the television. 

A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and he turns back to his desk, settling back down to work. 

+++

tagging:  @aaronhotchnerr @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y  + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

[jungshookz]

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk* 

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect;  “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”  

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”  

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!  

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.  

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.  

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!! 

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

?

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point 

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!! 

fumbling over his words!!! 

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!! 

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”  

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming. 

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[miraculouswolf99]

Shadow Fox

"Good morning, Adrien," Lyon greeted, walking up to the model outside the school.

"Hello, Lyon," Adrien smiled at his Greek friend.

"You waiting for someone," Lyon asked him.

"Would I sound too much like Cat Noir if I said you," Adrien smirked.

"Cat Noir's got nothing on you, Sunshine Boy," Lyon snickered.

"Ironic," Adrien thought.

"Hello, boys," Vallia approached them. "You two flirting with each other again?"

"Maybe," Adrien smirked.

"It's so obvious as well," Lyon shook his head. "How is it that so many people in this school still think Adrien is straight?"

"You were the one that pointed out their lack of common sense when we first got here, brother of mine," Vallia says.

"Oh, right," Lyon accepted her logic.

"At least Marinette was already dating Luka when you two started flirting in public like this," Vallia said.

"I was so blind to her crush," Adrien sighed. "I must have looked so insensitive to her."

"Adrien, crushes are pretty much a blind spot to all guys," Lyon tells him. "I know some girls back home had crushes on me that Vallia had to point out for me."

"It's true," Vallia giggled. "You can't exactly be rich, good-looking, and not expect people to get a crush on you."

"Celebrity crushes are the worst," Lyon shook his head.

"Don't I know it," Adrien out his head in his hands.

"Awe, poor kitty," Lyon playfully patted his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, wolfie," Adrien slapped his hand away lightly.

"You are so lucky that I don't have archery practice today," Lyon playfully glared. "Otherwise, you'd know the exact consequences of calling me wolfie."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Vallia says. "Have you guys seen the latest post on the Ladyblog?"

"Vallia, you know I do not care for blogs," Lyon reminds her. "Most people with blogs like that believe that it gives them actual rights as 'real' reporters. Please, most blogs are basically just wannabe reporters throwing around their opinions."

"You never hold back when stating your own opinion, do you," Adrien asked.

"Why should I," Lyon raised an eyebrow. "Free speech exists for a reason."

"Point made," Adrien shrugged.

"Take a look," Vallia showed them her phone.

New Lead On the Identity Of Ladybug was plastered as the lead story on Alya's blog. Adrien and Lyon looked at each other before returning to the story. It was some theory story that seemed to be more like a conspiracy theory as she compared old photos of Hippolyta, Joan of Arch, and some statue that she seemed to us an app to add ladybug style armor to as a basis for her theory that the current Ladybug was also a heroic person under the mask. She was guessing volunteer workers, teaching assistants, and any other female teenager that liked to help people.

"I thought Ladybug told her months ago to stop trying to find her identity," Lyon did not like what he was seeing.

"Did being akumatized into Lady Wifi not teach her anything," Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose.

"From what you guys told us, that was more Chloe's fault," Vallia reminds. "Yet Chloe didn't even have a reason until Alya went a little too far when she thought that brat of all people was Ladybug."

"May the gods help that girl," Lyon shook his head. "I have never been so happy that there is no god or goddess of blogs."

"Hephaestus is the god of technology," Vallia reminded.

"But a blog on its own is not technology," Lyon countered. "It may be created with technology, but that is not part of his domain. The internet is a thing all on its own."

"Maybe Marinette can help Alya by being the voice of reason," Adrien suggested. "She usually is."

"She shouldn't have to be," Lyon says.

"Alya, Ladybug has repeatedly told you not to look for her identity," they heard their favorite bluenette's voice.

"Speak of the devil," Adrien said. "Or rather, speak of the angel in this case."

"Relax, Marinette," they hear Alya's voice. "It's not like I gave any specific people to look at."

"Alya, you are endangering her family and friends by trying to figure out her identity and putting your 'clues' on the Ladyblog," Marinette says.

"Hawkmoth won't attack her family or friends," Alya waved her off.

The two girls approached the school, consumed by their conversation. They hardly noticed the other three walking up to them.

"What even makes you think that Hawkmoth wouldn't attack her family," Lyon asked. "There doesn't seem to be anything he wouldn't do."

"Hawkmoth did akumatize a baby," Vallia pointed out. "Poor little August."

"Well, Hawkmoth didn't attack Lila," Alya reasoned. "And if he didn't attack Laydybug's best friend, he wouldn't attack the rest of her friends or family."

"Ever consider that Hawkmoth didn't go after her because he knew she was lying," Lyon asked, in his scary calm voice.

"What is your problem with her," Alya glared at him. "What do you have against Lila to accuse her of lying without proof!?!"

"My proof is that she was stupid enough to broadcast her 'friendship' all over Paris on your blog," Lyon crossed his arms. "Anyone that publically says that they are best friends with a superhero is like asking for villains to attack them. It's pretty obvious she is claiming so to get attention."

"How dare you accuse Lila of that," Alya yelled at the Greek, not that he seemed to care. "She would never lie."

"Except that she has," Vallia says. "Pretty much since the day that she got here and every day since then."

The Greek twins then walked away without another word. That was another thing that Adrien liked about them. They took no nonsense from anyone and would tell you if you were doing something, or were about to do something, stupid.

And they certainly took no nonsense from Lila. But they especially did not after she told a lie about Clara Nightingale stealing some of her dance moves from her. It was well known, since Clara's last visit to Paris, that the pop star was very good friends with the twins so they automatically knew that was a lie. And they made their anger very well known. They didn't care if it got them some glares in return, but they always made people know that they believed that Lila is a liar. Which was true, but not everyone knew that.

"You can't say that those two are not blunt," Adrien commented to Marinette.

Marinette giggled in agreement.

The two walked into the school before Alya could go on another of her "defending Lila' rants. They got old very quickly.

It had just been the end of the school day when the Akuma Alarms started to go off. Lyon and Valiia did a disappearing act while Adrien and Marinette both made bad excuses in order to get away from everyone to transform.

"Tikki, spots on."

"Plagg, claws out."

"Frostbite, freeze over."

"Flutter, wings up."

Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly were soon all heading toward the newest villain that Hawkmoth created.

"What in the name of Zeus," Beautifly swore.

In front of the four heroes was a psychedelic killer clown. With the poofy red and orange jumpsuit, giant black shoes, red and orange clown/Santa hat, and purple skin, he looked like the long lost twin to the Ghost Clown from Scooby Doo. And he was also very unnerving to look at. His weapon seemed to be a giant clown horn.

"I have never liked clowns before, and this is not helping," White Wolf stated.

"You're afraid of clowns," Cat Noir raised an eyebrow under his mask.

"Not afraid of them, I just don't like them," White Wolf corrected. "I find them to be creepy and weird-looking."

"Looking at this guy, I am actually on Wolf's side for this one," Ladybug says. "Not that I am surprised that Hawkmoth made a clown akuma, at all."

"One was bound to show up eventually," Beautifly crossed her arms.

"Lucky us," White Wolf complained.

"I'm guessing he is either a birthday clown who got upset, or maybe a class clown that got in trouble for his jokes, or someone pranked with no sense of humor," Cat Noir guessed.

"Those are actually some really good guesses," Beautifly says.

"Fight enough akumas, you get good at figuring out what type of person they were under the mask," Cat Noir said.

"Good thing they don't have attached glamours like we do with our miraculous," White Wolf says. "That would make things a lot more difficult."

"Chloe's first time as a villain was certainly easy to figure out," Cat Noir said. "All that changed about her was putting her in a Ladybug suit with reversed colors. He was a lot more creative with Stormy Weather and Evillustrator."

"What else can you say about those with purple skin," Ladybug giggled.

"I may like the color, but purple skin is not something I would ever like to have," Beautifly says. "I'd look like a human lavender flower."

"He looks ridiculous I'll give him that," White Wolf looked at the clown.

"I am Jokester," the clown yelled. "If others can't appreciate my sense of humor, I will make them laugh."

"I think Cat Noir may be right about the prankster getting into trouble theory," White Wolf said.

"Finally, someone sees my genius," Cat Noir laughed.

Jokester brought out a cliche clown horn. He aimed it at the heroes.

"Heads up, guys," Beautifly warned.

She used her wings to fly up and out of the way. The other three jump out of range as the clown blown the horn. Out came a sound blast of yellow sound waves. While it missed the heroes, the sound did wash over some civilians that were farther back on the street from them. They all started laughing immediately.

"I am suddenly reminded of the Joker," White Wolf commented.

"Even with all the crime, I still actually have always wanted to go to Gotham," Cat Noir said.

"Don't let him hit you with that sound wave," Ladybug called to them.

"Where's the songbird miraculous when we need it," Beautifly tried to joke.

"We'll see how this plays out, Fly," White Wolf tells her.

They all dodged another sound blast sent their way. White Wolf landed on the roof of a nearby building. He notched an arrow in his bow, letting it fly at the akuma. The clown dodged the arrow, letting it freeze the ground where it hit.

"Anyone want to take a bet on whether the akuma is in the horn or not," Cat Noir calls out, dodging a blast sent his way.

"At least it isn't hidden on a ship like Captain Hardrock's was," Beautifly says.

"Please don't mention her," White Wolf requested. "My ears still have a slight ring to them from her sound cannons."

"Not the quietest akuma we've ever faced," Cat Noir agreed.

"Try and surround him," Ladybug ordered. "He might get confused and not know where to aim the horn."

"Good idea," Cat Noir agreed.

The four separated, going in different directions. White Wolf kept the most distance so that he could properly aim his arrows at the clown. Beautifly stayed off the ground, her wings fluttering so that she could easily fly out of the way. Ladybug and Cat Noir were on opposite sides of the clown, both with their weapons out and ready to strike. Altogether, they formed an X around the akuma.

"You should surrender," Ladybug tried talking to Jokester. "Whatever Hawkmoth is telling you is a lie. He can't offer you anything real."

But the signature butterfly outline appeared over the clown's eyes.

"Do not listen to this teenage heroine," Hawmoths tells the villain in his head. "She only wants to take away your new powers and prevent you from spreading laughter and fun. I can help you spread real fun all throughout Paris while she can not."

"I could not agree more, Hawkmoth," Jokester replied.

He aimed his horn directly at the ground. Beautifly had seen this before when an enemy would aim their weapon right at the ground.

"Get out of the way," she yelled.

She immediately flew up, further off the ground. The three heroes on the ground followed suit by jumping or using their weapons to get onto rooftops. Jokester blew the horn right at the ground. The sound wave came out like a sonic boom as it boomed out in all directions on the ground. A few more dozen people all started to laugh uncontrollably. Jokester shot into the air and started flying just like when Rose was Princess Frangrance doing the same thing with her perfume gun.

"I hate it when we have to chase them," Cat Noir complained. "Can't they ever make it easy for us."

"Trust me, if I had it my way, Hawkmoth's lair would have a giant Las Vegas sign on it with 'come arrest me' spelled out in neon," White Wolf tells him.

"This is why I like having wings," Beautifly giggled.

She took off, flying after him. The rest followed after her. White Wolf aimed another arrow at the clown, firing when they jumped to another roof. But Jokester managed to dodge it and who knows where the arrow landed after that.

"I need to practice my aiming while I am running more often," Wolf said.

"What I would give to be a flying cat," Cat Noir says.

"I will have to look to see if there is a jaquin miraculous," Beautifly giggles.

"A what," Ladybug asked.

The butterfly hero flew faster, getting in front of the clown. She launched her razor flower at him. Jokester was forced to head back to the ground. He landed on a random street somewhere by Le Grand Paris.

"I will make you, heroes, see the joy of laughter," Jokester yells.

"Laughter is overrated," Wolf stated, firing another arrow.

He blew his horn at the arrow, blocking and destroying the arrow. They all then jumped out of the way as the sound blast almost got to them after destroying the arrow.

"Even with four of us, he has us on the ropes," Beautifly says.

"If we end up laughing non-stop, we won't be able to call upon our power or detransform because we wouldn't be able to form words properly," Ladybug said.

"Even separately, the sound wave is too big," Cat Noir noticed. "He needs to be distracted away from us so we can get the akumatized object."

"So we need an allie," Wolf said. "The stag or python miraculous might be able to help us. Or maybe even the songbird."

"Sonic scream, sound shriek, or paralyzing," Beautifly listed the powers of the three miraculous. "Any of those could help us."

Ladybug was about to respond when she saw Alya off to the side. She was on her phone, as usual, most likely filming the fight for the Ladyblog. Her blog had recently opened up to Lyon and Vallia's homeland of Greece because of White Wolf and Beautifly joining the battle against Hawkmoth. Google translate was probably very useful to them.

"I know what to do," Ladybug says. "I'll be right back."

With that, she left. Cat Noir was the first to get what she was doing when he saw that Alya was there as well.

"We better handle the clown gone wild until she gets back," Wolf says.

They separated again, dodging more sound blasts.

Ladybug destransformed into Marinette before she headed into Master Fu's building. She had a feeling that he was expecting her, like always. How he did that was a little creepy, but what did she know about Guardians of the Miraculous.

"Master Fu," she greeted when she came in.

"Come on in, Marinette," Fu says.

"I need the fox miraculous," Marinette tells him. "The illusions it can create will be the best distraction for this akuma."

"Of course," Fu said.

He went over to his phonograph and punched in his code. The miracle box soon rose out of it. He picked up the box and put it in front of her.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pick an ally you can trust to fight alongside you on this mission. Choose wisely; such powers are meant to serve the greater good. Once the mission is over you will retrieve the Miraculous from them," he tells her.

Marinette immediately picked up the foxtail necklace. But then she hesitated when she looked at it.

"Marinette," Wayzz asked, concerned.

"What is it, dear child," Fu asked her.

"You know that I usually give this to Rena Rouge, right," Marinette started.

"Yes. And if I am correct, she is your best friend, Alya, correct," Fu guessed.

"Yes, she is," Marinette didn't even try to lie. "But... you know that Alya also is the creator of the Ladyblog."

"I mean no offense, but blogs are still quite foreign to me," Fu admitted. "But I do understand what you are talking about."

"Alya is a good reporter," Marinette started. "But she sometimes does not know when to let a story go or if a story will have unexpected consequences. Alya has been trying to figure out my identity. She's almost been obsessed with finding it pretty much since Ladybug's first appearance. The search was what started the events that caused her to be akumatized. I have told her to stop, but she hasn't."

"And you are worried that Alya will find your identity if you continue giving her the fox miraculous," Fu guessed.

"No, I'm worried that she will put us in danger when she figures it out," Marinette says. "She keeps saying that the people deserve to know who I am, who all us heroes are, even when that puts us all on Hawkmoth's radar. She's convinced that he won't attack us because a liar has been telling her that she is 'Ladybug's' best friend and she believes her. She thinks that since Hawkmoth had not attacked 'Ladybug's best friend' that he will not attack Ladybug."

"I see," Fu says.

"I have even told her, as Ladybug, to stop looking for my identity," Marinette continued. "Multiple times, I add. But she is still looking. Alya is a great friend, but she tends to listen only when it is something she wants to hear. I am not sure if I can trust her enough with the fox anymore."

"Heroes are not always set in stone, Marinette," Fu tells her. "Not even the ladybug and black cat are only compatible with one person. I trust that if you know when there is a good fit for a temporary hero, then that person will indeed be a good one."

Marinette seemed to calm down after that. But that also slightly made her curious about who else would be compatible with her miraculous. When they did that accidental miraculous swap and she became Lady Noir, she and Mister Bug actually did pretty well. Even if they did not have much practice with the powers that they literally had for less than fifteen minutes.

She quickly left and transformed, jumping over rooftops. She had to think of someone that could be a good match for the fox miraculous. She knew that Alya loved being Rena Rouge, but this was also a chance for her to see that her actions had consequences. To teach her that there are some things that are not worth a story. Also, do not believe everything you hear. That second one was more a jab at Lila than anything else.

The more Ladybug thought about it, the more she was thinking of a personality that would match the fox and its powers. Alya was hard-headed, stubborn, and liked to charge in. That was not the type of personality that would match with subtle illusions and an animal that is known for being sneaky and quiet. A fox should be sneaky, know when to observe before taking action, and should also know what will work best when in the shadows.

And now that she really thought about it, there was one person she knew that would be a far better fit for the fox.

Ladybug landed right near a very familiar boat on the Seine. Her Ladybug luck must have been working because the exact person she needed was right on deck.

"Juleka," Ladybug called, jumping onto the boat.

"L...Ladybug," Juleka stuttered, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help," Ladybug stated.

"M...My help," Juleka looked even more shocked. "What can I do? I'm not cut out to be a hero."

"You are more capable than you think, Juleka," Ladybug pulled out the box. "Juleka Couffaine, this is the miraculous of the fox, which grants the power of illusion. You will use it for the greater good. After the battle is over you must return the miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

Juleka was a lot of things. She was shy, sweet, kind, had a good head on her shoulders, and had a dream to become a model. She never would have imagined anything like this ever happening to her.

"M...Me," she was beyond shocked at this point. "I...I'm no hero, Ladybug. And... what about Rena Rouge?"

"Rena has... lost my trust," Ladybug admitted. "She has been permanently retired and won't be returning."

"Oh," was all Juleka could say.

"Juleka, there is no bravery without fear," Ladybug tells the shy girl. "Being a hero does not mean being fearless and always jumping into danger without a second thought. It also means being careful and going in with a strategy. You are naturally quiet and observant, a perfect match for the fox miraculous."

"I'm not a hero, Ladybug," Juleka was still reluctant.

"We all have a hero inside of us, Juleka," Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile. "You do not need to be fearless to be a hero."

Juleka looked at the box that Ladybug was offering her again. She wanted to be confident, to be able to stand up to people if she has to, to put herself out there more. Now, she was being given that chance.

"Okay, Ladybug," she took the box and opened the lid.

A ball of light came out, flying around the goth girl. To her credit, she did not stare at the ball of light and exclaim "what is that thing" like Alya did.

"Hello, there," Trixx greeted, not showing how surprised he was at not seeing Alya.

"Rad," Juleka gasped.

"Not easily shook, is she," Trixx asked Ladybug.

"Guess with magical superheroes around, these things are being seen as more normal," Ladybug shrugged.

"Alright, then," Trixx turned back to Juleka. "My name's Trixx, and I will be your kwami."

"Kwami," Juleka was not as informed as Alya had been.

"I'm what gives my holders their powers," Trixx answered. "I am the kwami of illusion. To transform, you say 'Trixx, let's pounce.' Detransform, it's 'let's rest.' To call my power, play your flute, think the illusion you want, and say 'mirage."

Juleka put the necklace on, but she still looked nervous about doing this.

"You'll do great, Juleka," Ladybug smiled at her. "I know you will."

Juleka nodded. "Trixx, let's pounce."

Trixx was pulled into the necklace and Juleka transformed. Ladybug immediately noticed that her hero outfit was a lot different from Alya's.

For starters, her colors are midnight black and dark purple. Her torso was similar to Rena's but was dark purple where it was normally white and black where it would have been orange. But that was where the similarities ended. Over her torso clothing was a black leather jacket with streaks of purple on it. She also wore knee-high black boots that had no heel and matched the dark purple gloves on her hands. Behind her was a real fox tail instead of Rena's fabric one. The same difference was the real fox ears coming out of the top of her head. Her hair remained mostly the same but grew to where the tail started to come out of her. Over her eyes was a dark purple mask. Her flute also changed to purple and black and was strapped to her back.

"Wow," Ladybug gasped. "This might actually come in handy if we ever have another akuma at night to deal with. There would be plenty of shadows that you could blend into."

"This feels so awesome," Juleka looked at her costume.

"So, what will I call you," Ladybug asked.

"My name can be... Shadow Fox," Juleka chooses a hero identity.

"Cool," Ladybug smiled at her.

*****

Meanwhile, back at the battle, the three other heroes were trying their best to keep other civilians from becoming laughing messes. They already had to save Alya three times because of her need to film the fight even when it was a risk to her safety.

"Alya," Beautifly yelled in warning.

Make that four times.

The butterfly hero dived down and picked up the blogger. She just managed to fly out of reach of another sound blast from Jokester. She set Alya down on the roof of a building further from the fight.

"Hey, I need to be closer to the fight," Alya protested where she was put down. "I would never be able to get a proper video from here."

"Your life is not worth a simple video," Beautifly scolded. "Either stay away from the fight or just learn to dodge on your own. We can not keep saving you. It distracts us from defeating the akuma."

"I need this for my blog," Alya continued to protest.

"A blog post is not worth your life," Beautifly snapped at her.

She flew away before Alya could attempt to argue more with her. She saw Cat Noir and White Wolf standing on opposite sides of Jokester, hoping for at least one of them to get a hit in.

"Take this, Mr.Big-Nose," Cat Noir yelled, jumping at him while spinning his staff.

Jokester focused his attention on Cat Noir, raising his horn to make him laugh as well as blast him away. White Wolf fired an arrow when he was distracted. And this one finally met its mark. The arrow hit the horn and ice erupted around it, encasing his hand and the horn at the same time. That lead to the akum only being able to jump out of the way of Cat Noir's strike.

"Finally," Wolf says. "There is no worse feeling to an archer than constantly missing their target."

Cat Noir had to laugh at that, making the wolf hero playfully pout.

"Aw," Cat Noir looked at him. "A pouting wolf. How adorable."

"Call me adorable one more time and I will shove an arrow so far up your..." Wolf started.

"Don't want to be called adorable, then don't pout like that," Beautifly smirked, interrupting him.

"My quiver literally never runs out of arrows, you really want to tempt me," Wolf shakes his bow at them in a threatening manner.

"You're still cute, Wolfie," Cat Noir winked at him.

"Do not make me shoot you, Kitty," Wolf playfully threatened.

"You two are made for each other," Beautifly giggled.

"Am not," the two heroes could not hide their blushes.

"Someone needs to tell that Ladyblogger to take down that LadyNoir ship name," Beautifly giggled again. "Because that is obviously not happening."

Both male heroes were really going red, but their fun moment was ruined by Jokester.

"I will make you laugh if it is the last thing I do," he yelled.

"You'd think a clown would appreciate our senses of humor," Cat Noir commented.

The ice around the horn began to crack.

"Oh for the love of Hades," Wolf swore.

They all shot in different directions when the ice exploded with a sound blast that would have directly hit them.

"Looks like I need to layer on the ice," Wolf notched another arrow.

"Someone call for back-up," Ladybug's voice called.

Not even a second later, a black figure shot at Jokester and hit him with... was that a flute? The clown was knocked right into a nearby wall.

"That was the akuma I just hit, right," the figure asked, her voice telling them that she was female.

The rest of the team got their first real look at Shadow Fox.

"That is most definitely not Rena Rouge," Cat Noir immediately said.

"You can call me Shadow Fox, kitten," Shadow responded.

"This is an interesting development," Wolf commented.

"Indeed, it is," Beautifly agreed.

Alya, who had finally managed to get close to the fight again, was unbelievably shocked, not to mention angry.

"I'm Rena Rouge," she thought, angrily. "I was right here, why would Ladybug give someone else the fox miraculous. She doesn't even look like a fox."

The three did a quick look, up and down, of Shadow Fox. She was certainly a lot more different than Rena Rouge in terms of looks. And the way that she was able to just shoot at Jokester and nail like that meant that she was comfortable with being quiet even when attacking.

"That was a good hit," Wolf complimented. "Probably one of the few that have happened in this fight."

"Uh... thanks," Shadow said.

"I'm more happy about there now being three heroes with dark-colored outfits compared to the two with bright colors," Beautifly remarked. "We outnumber them, now."

"Finally," Cat Noir cheered in agreement.

"I resent both of you," Ladybug pointed at them, playfully glaring as well.

"At least the two of us stand out more," Wolf smirked.

Jokester than started to get up. He noticed that there were now five heroes against him instead of just the three he had been fighting.

"Oh, look," he gave them a creepy smile. "More people to join in my plan of spreading laughter. Goodie."

"This guy is really creepy," Shadow stated.

"See, she agrees with me," Wolf said.

They all dodged another sound blast.

"Okay, time to end this," Ladybug says. "Lucky Charm."

She threw her yo-yo into the air, calling whatever object that was going to appear. It came in a flash of light as usual and then fell into her hands.

"You have got to be kidding me," Beautifly said, looking at the object.

It was one of those ridiculous fake clown flowers. The ones with a small pump at the end of a tube to squirt water out of the flower.

"What in the world am I supposed to do this," Ladybug looked at it.

"You better figure it out quickly," Wolf called out to her.

He was running across rooftops along the street, continuously firing arrows at the demented clown. But none of the arrows met their mark because they were all destroyed by Jokester's sound blast.

"I'll try and give us some more help," Beautifly says. "Nature's Heart."

Her razor flower spun around her, landing on her hand in front of her. Out of the center of the flower appeared a blossom. This one was oddly known my Shadow Fox.

"That's a water lily," she said, making Beautifly look at her. "I grew up near the water, so I have a lot of aqua facts up my sleeves."

"Okay," Beautifly says. "Then I know exactly what this does. And it does make sense. Sound can not move through the water. Everyone out of the way!"

The butterfly hero took the flower and raised it in front of her. Jokester barely had time to look at her when a powerful torrent of water came shooting out of the flower. She loved her ability to call enchanted flowers, even if she never knew what she was going to get.

Jokester shot another sound blast, but the water was too powerful for it. The sound blast was now acting more like a shield as it tried to keep the water at bay. The heroes all stood on different roofs to avoid the torrent.

"I have never loved flowers more than right now," Cat Noir said.

"That's my partner for you," Wolf grinned.

Ladybug looked around, using her Ladybug vision to work out how to use what she had. Shadow Fox was the first to flash in her sight, then the water gun flower, then White Wolf's bow and arrows, and finally Cat Noir. She now had a plan.

"I can't hold this for much longer," Beautifly shouted.

Ladybug quickly made her way over to Shadow Fox.

"When Beautifly stops her attack, that is when you need to call your illusion," she tells her.

"But... what do I even create," Shadow asked, holding her flute tightly.

"Trust in yourself," Ladybug says. "You'll know what to do."

Shadow Fox nodded, holding her flute. Ladybug then went over to White Wolf and Cat Noir to explain their parts of the plan.

It was not long before the water stopped coming out of the lily that Beautifly was holding. She looked at it, frustrated for a second, before having to take off again as a sound blast nearly hit her. When Jokester went to fire his horn again, Shadow Fox put her flute to her lips and played the tune that activated her power.

"Mirage," she whispered, throwing the ball of light.

In a flash, there were many copies of the heroes along the rooftops. And no two groups were in the same positions, so Jokester could not work out which was which based on how they looked.

"NO," Jokester yelled, confused on where to fire.

Having been looking up, at all the copies, Jokester did not notice the flower that Ladybug had managed to sneak in front of him. When he stepped onto the pump, the flower squirted water right into his face, further distracting and confusing him.

Hidden in two different alleyways were Cat Noir and White Wolf as they waited to do their parts. When Jokester had his back to White Wolf as he was trying to blast all the copies while still trying to wipe the water off of his face and out of his eyes. The icy hero came out as quietly as he could, raising his notched arrow. Aiming as carefully as he could, he fired. The arrow sailed through the air, making contact close to the bottom of the horn, freezing it and knocking it out of Jokester's hand.

"My horn," he cried. "I need that to spread laughter."

Ladybug was quick to jump out of her hiding place and use her yo-yo to wrap around his legs and trip the villain.

"Cat Noir, now," Ladybug yelled.

"Cataclysm," the black cat called, his hand bubbling with black energy.

He jumped up, touching the frozen horn with his hand. The horn instantly turned to dust, falling into icy pieces. A black butterfly flew out of the remains.

"No more evil-doing for you, little akuma," Ladybug opened her yo-yo and threw it at the insect. "Time to de-evilize."

Ladybug released the butterfly, the creature now being white. She then threw the fake flower into the air, letting her Miraculous Cure sweep over the city. As the swarm of ladybugs vanished, three of the heroes started beeping because of the timers on their miraculous for using their powers. Ladybug and Shadow Fox were left with four minutes and Beautifly had three left. Cat Noir was probably close to having four minutes left but White Wolf did not use his power so he was not on a timer.

"LADYBUG," Alya shouted, running toward them.

"And... that is our cue to leave," Wolf stated. "I am not getting involved in this."

"Me neither," Beautifly agrees. "I'd rather fight the spirit of one of the furies."

The Greek heroes flew/ jumped away. Cat Noir then looked at Ladybug.

"I don't really know why she is angry, but I'm not getting involved in whatever happened that made her so mad," he tells her.

"Can I come with you," Shadow asked before he could leave. "I can hide and give you the miraculous so that you don't find out who I am."

"I'm cool with that," Cat Noir responded.

The two quickly left as well and Ladybug was left alone with the blogger.

"Yes, Alya," the hero knew that this conversation was going to happen.

"How... How... You replaced me," the Ladyblogger managed to get out. "I was right here, how could you replace me?!?"

"Because, Alya, you have lost my trust," Ladybug stated.

"Lost your trust? But I didn't do anything," Alya protested.

"Really? Because I recall telling you, multiple times, to stop trying to figure out my identity," Ladybug crossed her arms. "And yet you continue to try. I saw your latest blog post. That not only puts me in danger if your theory is even correct, but it also puts innocent girls in danger that anyone thinks could be me."

"The people deserve to know who is protecting them," Alya argued.

"And does that fact that my friends and family will be targeted by Hawkmoth mean nothing to you," Ladybug glared at her.

"Hawkmoth will not attack them," Alya tries to argue.

"And what reason do you have to think that," Ladybug was not going to back down. "Do you have him on speed-dial? Do you have a video of him saying that he would leave them alone? What proof do you have that he will not attack my family and friends?"

"Well, Lila is still..." Alya was interrupted.

"Her again," Ladybug shook her head. "I told that girl months ago to stop saying that she knew me and that we're friends. It was annoying then and it's annoying now."

Alya was undeniably shocked.

"But... she said..." Alya was interrupted again.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," Ladybug says. "The only way that me, Cat Noir, White Wolf, Beautifly, and any other hero in Paris knows Lila Rossi is when she has either been akumatized, been chased by an akuma, or has been the cause of one. Neither me, nor any other hero, is friends with her and she needs to stop lying by saying that she is."

"You're just saying that to protect her," Alya was in denial at this point.

"This is why you no longer will be given the fox miraculous," Ladybug remains glaring at her. "You are so in denial about the truth unless it suits you and what you believe. You go running head-first into danger, not caring about your safety or how it distracts me and the other heroes when we constantly need to save you. You also only ever publish what gets you more views on your blog. Lila Rossi's video, your theories about who I am, and I noticed that you still have not taken down that story you posted that accuses Cat Noir of stealing the Mona Lisa. That was a villain called Copycat, who was akumatized to look just like Cat Noir. We told everyone that, yet you still have not taken that article down or posted an apology to him."

"But... But... I..." Alya was speechless, for once.

"There is more to being a good journalist than clickbait articles," Ladybug got her yo-yo out again. "Looking for facts is also a big part of being a reporter. Maybe you need to think about that. Bug out."

Ladybug then swung away to retrieve the fox miraculous that Shadow Fox gave to Cat Noir.

[rhenuvee]

Mission Impossible (George Weasley x Beauxbatons reader)

A/N + Summary: YEAH you’ve seen Fred Weasley x Beauxbatons reader but now I give you GEORGE WEASLEY X BEAUXBATONS READER (wow so cool). 

Key: (y/n) - your name, also I just gave your friends names because it would be a hassle to do (y/f/n/1) and so on.

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

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

The moment you, your friends and headmistress waltzed into the great hall with your elegant movements, it didn’t take long for people to turn heads in admiration- especially for George Weasley. 

Was it merely a coincidence that when you looked his way, he was looking right back at you? For a second you almost forgot that you were part of everyone’s center of attention, and that you weren’t the only one in the room. 

He threw a wink your way when your group stopped to flourish butterflies to the crowd. You giggled- God, that certainly wasn’t in your choreography, you didn’t even know if it was directed to you! You hoped that nobody saw that. 

Once everyone was settled down, one of your friends Camille tapped you on the shoulder almost urgently. 

“Who were you looking at?” she whispered, but still loud enough for your two other friends Renee and Jacqueline to hear. “You were looking at someone, (y/n)?” asked Jacqueline. Well, she said that out loud. Most of the Beauxbatons were staring at you waiting for an answer. 

“Camille, I wasn’t looking at anyone.” you lied. Camille obviously didn’t believe you, and lifted herself slightly off the bench table to look around. There were too many people that could’ve been the one. Camille furrowed her eyebrows. “Whoever it was, they were on that side of the hall.” she said with her arms crossed. 

“Maybe it was a boy...” said Jacqueline with a smirk. Jeez, if anything, she was always the person to suspect the reason to everything was someone you liked. Suddenly your mind reverted back to your few seconds of memory of the red headed boy. He was handsome, no doubt, and that wink could’ve made you blush more than the Beauxbatons entrance.

“She’s blushing! It is a boy!” exclaimed Jacqueline. You immediately cringed and wished that you didn’t know them anymore. “Don’t worry (y/n), we’ll find this boy sooner than you!” said Camille cheerfully while high-fiving Jacqueline. You facepalmed, as if your first- not even hour at Hogwarts had an interesting start. 

“All of you are clowns-” you muttered. “well not Renee I guess.” 

“No, I’m totally in on this too.” she said quickly.

“Oh... never mind then. Guess I’ll just be miserable then, with three clowns...” you said a fake sadness which made you and your three friends laugh. 

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, a similar conversation was happening. 

“Georgie, helloooo?” said Fred waving a hand in front of his face. He was too distracted by the pretty smile that left your lips as you laughed. Fred groaned dramatically.

“Hi! I’m a pretty Beauxbatons girl who the less attractive Weasley twin seems to be distracted by!” said Fred in a mock girly tone. 

“Huh?” said George out of his daydream. 

“Well that got his attention.” said Harry as he and Ron snickered. 

 “What are you on about, Fred?” asked George. “I’m saying you’ve been staring at where those Beauxbatons girls are sitting, Georgie. One of them caught your eye?” he asked slyly, but with a knowing smile. 

“No-” 

“Well then why you looking there? You like the colour blue?” asked Fred laughing into his question. The people listening into the conversation around them went into a fit of laughter. But jokes aside, if anyone knew George it obviously had to be his twin. He saw how his cheeks were tinted a slight pink, and the daydream? It was a dead giveaway to him. The question only remained as to which girl it was- there were lots of you. Fred was more than welcome to play detective.

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

The next night, you went to accompany Fleur to put her name in the goblet. You decided to stay for a while to watch and clap for the other people who were planning to enter. It was very brave of them to take on the tournament after all.

“YESSSSSSSSS!!” you heard two voices call out while running to high five other students. It was him. You immediately perked up and felt your body tense up. You giggled to yourself as they explained to a girl why their plan would work. A bit silly, he was, but it attracted you nonetheless. 

Then it happened again, the boy turned his head for a brief moment from the crowd and landed on you. This time you had a closer view of him. You could see his ginger hair with the fire of the goblet reflecting it, his cute freckles, and his eyes which you could tell held a lot of mischief in them.

His mouth was slightly parted at the sight of you, but quickly split into a grin, knowing you were watching him. You couldn’t help but to smile back- in fact a little too widely to your liking, so you put a hand to cover your mouth.

“(Y/N)!” yelled a voice too familiar. Camille, Jacqueline and Renee sauntered in, earning a sigh of frustration to you. Here we go again...

“Hm- why are you so smiley?” asked Camille. Then the three of them gasped in sync. “T-the boy! Is he here?!” they all said looking around frantically. “No I did not see ‘t-the boy’.” you said mocking them dramatically. 

Your argument was interrupted by the shouts of the two redheads earlier, who honestly don’t have red hair anymore, and sat up to reveal that they were growing beards. The circle of people around them started laughing as they fought. You and your friends giggled at the sight, but you couldn’t help to feel a little concerned for the boy. 

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

You were thankful that your friends didn’t pester you right then and there, but that didn’t mean they weren’t on your case anymore. 

It was getting late, and you should’ve been with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, but you snuck around asking people where the hospital wing was. You don’t know why you decided to listen to your heart that was telling you to go see the boy after the aging potion fiasco. 

You took a peek inside and saw them already finished getting their beards shaved, and hair back to normal. You decided to wait outside for him until he came out. People started to give you weird looks since your blue uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.

Your heart started racing as you saw him come into your view. You tapped his arm lightly to get his attention. He turned around, and you could swear he had a light blush on his cheeks.

“Hi...” you said shyly.

“Hi.” he said back, chuckling at your short choice of greeting.

“I remember you,” he said, amused at the way you timidly tried to hide your smile. “I see you were worried about me.”

“I see you shaved your beard.” you shot back. He laughed at your reply while sheepishly rubbing his neck.

“Oi! George, we got- oh hello there.” said Fred with a smirk on his face. You smiled shyly. “So you’re the girl Georgie’s been staring at.” Fred’s shin was quickly met with George’s foot kicking it.

“Don’t snog for too long.” said Fred while waving and turning on his heel to leave. George was about to say something when your voice made him decide to deal with it later.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n), nice to meet you.” you said sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” he said taking your hand and bringing it to his lips to press a light kiss to it. You blushed- you were expecting a handshake. He seemed to be quite a charmer.

“Hey! Don’t try to make me throw up in the middle of the hall!” called out Fred. You hid in embarrassment.

“Fred, mate, I thought you were heading to the great hall.” said George. “You should be heading there too you know?” Fred shot back. George turned back to look at you and smiled.

“We’ll see you later then, darling.” he said running off. “See you...” you replied softly.

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

You felt this emptiness when George left even for a brief moment. But at the same time it was better since your friends wouldn’t expect anything compared to if you walked in together.

You sat down at the table with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, waiting for everyone else to be settled down. You looked for George at his table and he caught back your gaze with silly faces. You giggled to yourself. Fred also peaked his head in your view and waved.

“Okay now you definitely are hiding something, is it the kid with the glasses?” Jacqueline asked, surprising you in the process. “What?”

“We know where you’re looking, it’s someone at that table. Is it the boy with the untucked uniform?” added Camille. “Jeez you guys can’t even bother to mind your own business, and why do you always think I’m with a boy?” you asked a little too defensively. “Why can’t you be like Renee, she’s not poking her nose into everything.”

“To be honest I want to know too.” she said.

“Oh... well anyway- don’t you guys have anything better to do?” you asked.

“Not really, but you’re getting off topic- is it the ginger haired guy?” asked Camille. “There are a lot of ginger haired guys.” you said.

“Hmmm... very suspicious, she has the knowledge that there are a lot of ginger haired guys.” said Jacqueline stroking an imaginary beard.

“You guys are just delusional.” you said jokingly to them.

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

Throughout your experience at Hogwarts, it was very interesting, and sure enough you were kept on your toes trying to see George without any of your friends suspecting anything. If they knew the two of you snogged a few times in a broom closet, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Luckily Fred promised to keep it a secret.

You and George had a type of chemistry between you and him, and you could feel it from day one. It was only a matter of time before the both of you expressed your passion.

“Georgie, your lips are puffy...” you said slightly out of breath while still in George’s embrace.

“And? So are yours.” he said with a smirk, and brushing a hair out of place on your eyes. You slapped him playfully on the arm.

“That’s not what I meant. Won’t your friends and siblings suspect something?” you asked.

“Mm, I guess you’re right sweetheart. In fact my sister’s on my case now.” he said.

“Ginny was it?” he nodded to your response. “What excuse are you going to use this time?” you asked crossing your arms.

“I bumped into a tree?” he said cheekily. You laughed with your hands clutched at your stomach- he swears he could die happy from that. “What type of tree is that?” you asked calming down.

“One that looks like this.” he said booping your nose. “But more importantly, what about your friends, aren’t they ruthless?” he asked.

“Ugh yes. Keeping away from them is like Mission Impossible...” you said in an annoyed tone. “A mission what now?” he asked. You shook your head, and went back to put your arms on his chest.

“It’s nothing.” you said sweetly.

“Tell me, I wanna know.” he said bringing you closer.

“Fine, maybe later. But kiss me first.”

“Gladly.”

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 3 (Jason Todd x Reader)

OKAY LEMME TELL YOU ALL I’VE NEVER POSTED ANYTHING THIS LONG. AND I’VE NEVER SMILED SO MUCH WHILE WRITING A SINGLE FIC IN MY LIFE. IT’S 2K WORDS LONGER THAN THE COMMANDER FINALE. TALK ABOUT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

REMEMBER WHY JADE WEST WAS SO ICONIC IN VICTORIOUS? READ ON!

WORDS: A WHOPPING 7404 WORDS FOR A SINGLE PART OF A SERIES WARNINGS: NEVER HAD THIS MUCH FLUFF IN MY LIFE

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Hands flat on Ms. Peterson’s desk, you flashed the brightest fake smile you could. She looked up from her computer, probably the fifth round of solitaire for the day, and cocked up an eyebrow. She did not at all look amused at you storming in.

But you’ve been in the library for twenty minutes and this woman has not given you anything to do to keep you in here.

“Listen, Ms. Peterson. As much as we just love hanging out in this outdated hellhole, I’d rather we go home than just sit here and do nothing for the next hour and a half.”

Her shaky hands didn’t flinch. And she turned her attention back at her screen.

“I’m told to keep you in here for another eight weeks. I’ve had this job for fifty years and I’m not about to lose it to two whiny brats.”

“She’s the only whiny brat here, Ms. P.” Jason rested his elbows on the desk and leaned over beside you. “If you let us out, it’ll be our little secret. C’mon.”

Obviously, that sort of trick works for Jason more times than it would for any ordinary person. But Ms. Peterson was not the one to charm with. And she had the same, dead look in her eye when she turned her head at the young man.

“Sit. Down.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t care. Just get your asses on those chairs and sit. Oh look! A person in need of service. There’s your job. Go do it.”

Only one guy was standing behind you. You snarled at him, eyes narrowed. You were almost growling beneath your breath which made him visibly stand back. Jason looked at him over his shoulder with less fear factor but with the same annoyance.

The sight of you both made him almost piss his pants.

“Uhm,” he gulped. “Can you please show me where sci fi books are at?”

You cocked up an eyebrow, glancing at your nails before nudging Jason with your shoulder. He grunted at you, giving you that same ‘I really fucking hate you’ look on his face he’s practically embedded onto his own skin by now. You shrugged, looking back at your nails. Then Jason stood straight and held the guy by the shoulder.

“Go through that aisle. Third shelf from the right.”

“He asked you to go with him, Todd.”

His glare on you was really starting to show. “He can find it himself.”

The poor guy gulped and viciously nodded to agree with Jason. He walked away, making sure not to catch your eye. You lifted your elbows from the librarian’s desk and spared the old lady another snarky look, to which she didn’t even bother to notice. Both of you sitting back on the empty table, Jason placed his arm crossed over the other on the surface and leaned his head over to at least try having a nap. His hair was all sprawled out. You, on the other hand, leaned back, head hanging on your neck, and closing your eyes hoping time would fly by faster that way.

It didn’t.

Two weeks. It had been two fucking weeks. And yet, you were far from being halfway through this macabre series of events. Why couldn’t you have just punched that Maxwell kid in the face? Or threatened to murder him in his sleep? Anything else would have been better. Anything that would’ve landed you in an entirely different situation than to be stuck here with an old woman stricter than a Belle Reeves prison guard.

You could either look at the windows out the library, find a book and actually read one of them (though if they had any more of Poe’s you’d likely get your hands on them).

Or just stare at the eye candy in front of you.

Your smirk was less obvious when you glanced over the veins on his large, muscled arms, folded on top of the other with his skin stretched. His thick, black hair that was long enough to cover most of his forehead, now sticking onto his arm. His neck that was long and thick, his thin shirt and how even more lean muscles would pop out when he’d unintentionally flex. You often caught sight of his stomach when he’d reach over a shelf that was at the top most level, and the ‘V’ shape on his skin was more than eminent enough for you to picture. He wasn’t absolutely huge, especially since he was just 17. But he was definitely fit.

You wouldn’t mind looking at that for a while. Not until he starts talking, anyway. For long minutes, that was what you did, then you got bored.

The tip of your boots kicked his shin under the table. He jumped up, startled, almost growling at you with dark bags under his eyes.

“The fuck do you want now?”

“Someone’s a bit angsty today,” your evil little smirk ticked off another of his nerves. You could tell. He let out a large sigh, started leaning back against the back of his chair, then spread out his arms behind his head to stretch.

Ooooooh shit. There is was. The veins.

“I didn’t sleep last night.” Jason finished stretching and went back to lean against the table. “You done gawking?”

“Cute.” You scrunched up your face to mock him. “I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Help me sneak out of here.”

“Two weeks here. You think I haven’t tried sneaking out once or twice? That woman’s got the eye of a fucking hawk.”

“Is there any other way out of here?”

“I doubt it.”

Your groan was indefinitely long, stretching the back of your neck when you opted to reach for your phone.

“I’m at three percent.”

Jason took out his own phone. “Mine’s at five.”

“That blackout from last night reach your monster mansion, too?”

He snarled at you and rolled his eyes. “Bruce has generators to power up the whole place when we need it.”

“Then why are you at five percent?”

“Because I’ve been tinkering on this sorry little fucker the last thirty minutes.” He held it up with just his fingers. It had a cracked screen. It looked too old to even be used. “Battery drains faster than my patience.”

“Can’t your new rich dad buy you another one?”

“He did. I don’t wanna use it. Just doesn’t feel like mine.”

“Ah. You're one of those guys. ‘My parents are rich, not me’ kind of dudes. You’re all the same kinds of annoying.”

“I don’t act all high and mighty, for your information.”

“I’m just saying,” you raised your arms up. “If I were you’d I’d at least enjoy his wealth. It’s stupid if you don’t take advantage of things you clearly already have.””

He silently shook his head and looked to the side like you wouldn’t understand even if you tried. Scoffing, you turned away, and you caught the eye of Maxwell, who had a sling on his arm still.

“Holy fuck,” you reached for your bag. “I can't believe I fucking forgot.”

“What?”

Pouring out the contents, you mumbled. “Help me with this thing and I swear I owe you a huge favor.”

“I think watching you wallow in your pain would be more worth my time.”

“That sounds more like my line. You’re taking after me. Good. And I’d say likewise if I wasn’t so desperate, Todd.” You started pouring out pieces of paper, a bottle of glue, and a pair of the largest scissors Jason’s ever seen.

“Is that-“

“The scissors that sent that guy to therapy?” You pointed at Maxwell. “Yes. Yes they are.”

“Jesus.” He took it from your hands. “No fucking wonder.”

“Stop ogling and help me.”

“What the fuck are you supposed to do?”

“Remember the project that kid spilled his coffee on? This is it. I finished it that day and now I have to do it all over again. They gave me another two weeks to do it and I completely forgot about it until now. I’m supposed to make a stained-glass kind of picture. But with cutting pieces of colored paper.”

Jason took the paper you had on the table.

“These are all white, black, gray, and one sheet that’s dark red.”

You shrugged. “I like working with those colors. Now help me. I wanna do this.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a saved photo of one you’d like to copy. He almost jumped out of his seat when you suddenly showed him a picture of a deranged clown with a big red nose, a smile much larger than half his face, and eyes dark and dwelling enough to give him nightmares.

“I wanna know what type of dark shit you’re on.”

“It’s just a clown.”

“I am not helping you on your little art project.”

“Please.” Your hands were down, your eyes widened but not the threatening kind. And your voice, it was definitely the softest he’s ever heard it. Twitching an eyebrow like he was watching your every move, Jason didn’t flinch.

He looked at the clock. Then back at you with his eyeballs rolled all the way around.

“You’re lucky I literally have nothing better to do.”

You propped your shoulders up and gave him a black piece of paper and a pair of scissors. “Great. Cut these into the shapes I drew here.”

A disgruntled groan and a sharp snatch from your hands, Jason looked just as cranky as you usually were. It was amusing. He glared at you and you just smiled back. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up and get to work.”

Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, even when he’d started to fiddle with your too-large scissors, and you rolled your eyes with a bit of a smile.

“What’s making you so grumpy today?”

He didn’t bother looking up at you. His brows were all scrunched up as he cut the black piece of paper.

“I told you. I didn’t get to sleep last night. I was… out. Why are you grumpy all the time?”

You squinted your eyes at him then went to work. Carefully, he went through the first paper and gave you the shapes you wanted. You set aside your own batch and you took out the larger, white paper on which you’d glue it all on.

“Okay. Give me the shapes.”

You took out the glue and started pouring it on the paper.

“You’re doing it all wrong.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You clearly don’t.” He snatched it from you and started wiping the glue off with his finger, spreading it around. “I can't believe I’m fucking doing this.”

“And what are you doing exactly?” you snarled.

“Pouring the glue in will make it all sticky. You should’ve traced over the outer lines so it wouldn’t crumple.”

“I know that.” You took the glue away from him again, then placed the shape onto the paper. “One down.”

“Fucking kill me now.”

“Keep cutting. I’ll handle the glue.”

“Do it right, then.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He started again with your scissors and went back to snipping off the pieces of paper. Gluing the shapes one by one, you started taking out a red marker and traced the outlines to mimic the flow of blood.

Jason stared at it, then at you, eyes wide with disbelief, then went back to his scissors.

“Excuse me,” a girl went up to you. A freshman, you could tell. “That lady told me you could show me to the young adult section?”

“No. Go away.”

You kept with your glue, not even looking at the girl who just stared at you awkwardly. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep, long sigh. “Go down that aisle. Fifth shelf. Down the very end.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She walked over to where Jason was pointing at. You still didn’t look up from your work. And instead, watched on as Jason continued with cutting the shapes. “You need to chill.”

“Finish those up. That’s the last one.”

Jason rolled his eyes even more, angrily cutting through the pieces of red paper the size of the clown’s big red nose. He dropped the scissors onto the table and just continued to watch you gluing the pieces together with way too much glue.

He gave you no warning before grabbing the glue bottle from you and the shapes, stretching his arm out so you can't reach them.

“TODD.”

“YOU’RE RUINING THE WHOLE THING.”

“NO, I’M NOT.” You cursed with his name and stood up from your chair, reaching out with your arms all the way to him while he desperately wiped off the excess glue for your sake. “GIVE THAT BACK.”

“SIT DOWN.” He cried back at you.

You heard the shrillest shush Ms. Peterson has ever made, before you went back to fumbling with Jason. Your table was at the far end, and she was no longer at your line of sight. He held your wrist, wiping off the rest of the glue, then finally handed the bottle back to you. Putting the shapes onto the paper, you groaned when you slumped back on the chair.

“It looks horrible,” he tried to stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.”

“At least you’re almost done, right?”

“You put the glue on the shapes then, genius. I’ll paste them on.”

Grumbling with his deep voice, he took the glue bottle and swiped the shapes back over to him. Using thin, barely visible lines, he was so stingy with the glue you wanted to tear your hair out.

“That won't even stick to a fly trap.”

“You want your work to look all crumpled? Go ahead.”

“Just put a bit more.”

“I have the fucking glue bottle,” his eyebrows were raised. “You sit there and wait for me, then you stick them yourself. Start with this.”

He slammed a shape onto the table and you took it, careful not to hit your fingers with the glue. Biting into your gums, you wondered how you’ll be able to handle yet another eight weeks with his kid.

Your bickering didn’t even stop there. It went on, and Jason had to cut even more shapes to make up for some that were far too small. He was practically yelling at this point, and you weren’t about to get yelled at and not respond.

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CUT THEM, DINGUS.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE RIGHT FUCKING SIZE.”

“I GAVE YOU THE PATTERN. YOU ONLY HAD TO FOLLOW IT.”

“WELL I WOULD HAVE IF YOUR SCISSORS WEREN’T SO DAMN BIG.”

“THEY’RE THE BEST PAIR IN EXISTENCE. YOU JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT.”

“I THINK I CAN HANDLE A PAIR OF SCISSORS.”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU CUT BETTER THAN A FUCKING SEVEN-YEAR-OLD.”

“’CUZ THEY DON’T HAVE A FUCKING PARROT SCREAMING AT THEM EVERY FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES.”

The silent yelling didn’t stop. At the end, your voices were too loud that Ms. Peterson would’ve eventually shushed you for the last time and probably throw her slipper at you. Thankfully, she’d gone out to the bathroom and you were left alone.

Everyone else had left. It was almost 5 pm, and you refused to go if your project still wasn’t finished.

“This. Is. The worst day. Of my entire life. And I used to live in the streets.”

“You're not going anywhere. Stay.”

A deep, agonizingly painful groan. He slumped onto the table and buried his face into his arms. “Why can't you just kill me?”

Another set of long minutes, with your attention directly at the glue and scraping off the excess to make it look presentable. It didn’t actually look that bad. The second set of cut shapes were just the right size. Jason didn’t bother looking up. He might have even fallen asleep with you being silent for the longest time since you got there.

No one was left in the library, and it was just starting to get dark.

“Aaaaand THERE.” You placed the finished project onto the table and clapped your hands together in a grinning happiness. Jason, on the other hand, looked as good as dead.

“You may go.”

“You owe me fucking big time, kid.”

You smirked at him when he violently pushed his chair back, grabbed his backpack and went out for the door. You took your time, especially since going home late didn’t seem like such a drag anymore when Dad moved back in. You carefully slipped your collage into your folder and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Jason was still standing in front of the door, hand frozen on the handle you pushed him away and turned it, only for your hand to come at an abrupt stop and the sound of gears halting its turn.

“Where the fuck is Mother Goose?”

“The bathroom-“

But she wasn’t at the bathroom. Unless Ms. Peterson took her large purse and computer along with her to the toilet, she probably wasn’t in there.

“Are we-“

“There has to be a key here.” Jason rummaged through the librarian’s desk. Every drawer he could forcefully pull out, he did.

You pulled out your phone, which was a dead 0%, the image of a drained-out battery staring back at you, and that’s when you started to feel the panic slowly rise. You rushed to the library’s telephone, but you couldn’t even hear a dial tone. The phone was off. Jason’s phone was probably just as dead.

You rushed to the lights to turn them on, but nothing happened.

Fuck. Another blackout. FUCK.

“No key,” he rested his hands on the table. “Shit. FUCK.”

You only stared at each other, feeling that panic start to settle in when you realized you were out of options.

“M-Maybe. Your dad will come pick us up?”

Jason shook his head. “The last time I ran away for the night, he said he wasn’t gonna go around Gotham to pick me up anymore.” He looked at you. “Your parents?”

“Said the exact same thing.”

Your back hit the wall, and you slid down with your head up in the ceiling. Both silent. None of you even said it out loud.

Jason looked like he wanted to scream.

-----

You laid on your back, flat against the table, with just your arm over your eyes to shield it from the light posts outside the window on the driveway. You tried to drown out Jason’s fiddling with his lock pick and the door handle. Two hours had passed, and you’d barely gone by the evening.

“That’s not gonna work.”

“You have a better option, Lydia Deetz?”

You clenched your jaw and sneered. “You’ve been at it for an hour.”

“I’m almost through this.” He kept with his pick, a hairpin he found on the ground which he spent another hour looking for. “Juuuust- THERE!”

You shot up from the table, feet landing enthusiastically onto the floor and you sprinted to Jason’s back. “Here’s to freedom.”

Too eagerly, he turned the handle and pulled the door with a victorious grin.

Only for his hand to jolt at another abrupt stop. The door wouldn’t budge, only peering open through an inch. The grin on his face was immediately lost, and he almost feel out of his feet when you violently pushed him away, pulling on the door yourself and failing.

You could see the deadbolt, but something outside was holding the double doors from opening, no matter which one you pulled on.

“That batshit crazy old witch,” you growled. “Fucking chain locked the door.”

A loud, frustrated groan from Jason as he threw the hairpin to the ground like he would’ve a knife. “WHO CHAIN LOCKS A LIBRARY?”’

You walked away from the door, going back to the tables so you could bend over and stuff your face into your hands. Jason was even more of a mess.

Your dad started his first big fight with mom since he moved back in last night, just when you thought they’d finalized the divorce, he squirms back in. And your room was never far enough to drown out their screams.

That night you wished you were somewhere else. And you ended up somewhere even worse.

Jason was sitting on the floor, back flat against the wall, and his eyes were shut close while you laid back down on top of the table.

“I’m hungry.”

“The fuck you want me to do about that?” Jason kept his eyes shut.

“You got any food?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have something in your bag?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“You think you can stab me with those scissors? ‘Cuz I feel like choking on my own blood right now.”

You rolled over so you were laying on your stomach. Craning your head up to look at Jason, your chin resting on your fingers, you grinned. “I’d rather not spend the night being stuck with your rotting flesh. I’ll kill you in the morning.”

Jason screamed into his hands. “We are not gonna be stuck here until fucking morning.”

“Either you die tonight still in denial or we actually try to survive. Now do you have anything in your bag or what?”

He didn’t give in to picking out his bag without leaving you a dark glare. The sky was completely dark by now. And the only light source you had were three lamp posts outside the window. The power was still off, which meant it was going to be this dark the whole fucking night.

“Would you look at that?” He took out a small protein bar from his smaller pocket. “Forgot that was there.”

You jumped off the table again. “Great. I’m starving.”

You walked too fast to Jason, who immediately stood up and hold you by the shoulder, raising his hand away from your reach. “Ey. Mine. From my bag, remember?”

“I don’t have anything in mine!” you reached and tried to push him, but had no luck against his strength. “Come on!”

“I have way more body mass than you. I need this.”

You pursed your lips, glowering at him even when you knew he still wouldn’t budge. He kept pushing your shoulder from him until you backed away reluctantly.

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?”

You whined and grunted with your back hitting the wall. Jason stepped away facing you and opened the protein bar, took a large bite that left it with almost a third of the whole thing left.

“You know. That thing with the scissors stuck into your neck doesn’t seem like a bad idea anymore.” You grumbled.

Chewing profusely at the bar, he folded his one arm over his chest and smirked while watching you silently grovel in annoyance. You leaned on your side and made sure he wouldn’t hear your stomach starting to growl.

“Fine,” he groaned. “Here.”

A little over a quarter of the protein bar left. Jason handed it over to you and you gritted your teeth.

“There’s barely anything left, you bile-headed twat.”

“You want me to finish it?”

Snatching the bar away from him, you cursed under your breath right before you gobbled up what was left of the snack. It did little to nothing to make you feel less hungry, but at least you weren’t going to die.

“You're welcome.”

You threw the wrapper onto the floor and went back to sitting on the table. “Got anymore bright ideas?”

“Maybe if you’d help, I’d actually be able to tolerate you.”

Jason walked over to the classics shelf, pulled out a book and did the same as you. He swung his legs over on top of the table across you, bringing his knees up so he could rest his elbows on them. He then opened his book.

“You're reading,” you bit your gums. “You’re actually reading at a time like this.”

“What else are we supposed to do in a fucking library?”

Your hands met the surface of the table behind you and you threw your head back. “We have at least until the power comes back on. GOD, this place in insufferable.”

“Never mind the helping. You shutting up would be enough not to drive me insane.”

“And you're less of an ass when you're not a grouch, dickhead.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

The vein on your forehead started to throb. You weren’t tired yet, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at this hour even if you tried. You rolled around the table, desperate for any position that wouldn’t drive your limbs numb.

You jolted when you heard Jason curse.

“This fucking lamp post’s too dim. Can't even see shit.”

He set the book aside, laid down on his back and watched the ceiling with you.

“How did we even get locked up?”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep me captive with that stupid clown project for three hours we wouldn’t be in the mess.”

“So it’s my fault now? You're the one who fell asleep!”

“How could you have possibly missed the time? You know the library closes at five!”

“I didn’t fucking know that! I leave before that old witch does every time!”

“Just-.” Jason shut his eyes. “Can we stop screaming for ONE SECOND? Especially since we’re gonna stuck here the whole night?!”

The mocking noise you made was almost inhuman. Jason didn’t bother snarling back.

You saw a car pass by, the headlights shining through the window for the shortest moment. You kneeled on the table and waved your arms around.

“HEY. GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The car kept moving, and the headlights passed through the whole of the window until it left. You slumped back to lay down and groaned. “Fuck everything.”

You grabbed your bag, rummaging through everything inside just to find anything to do or anything that could possibly help you. Nothing. Not even a fan to cool you off when you started to feel the temperature rise.

“Did you call the number I gave you?”

You licked your teeth. “I used the piece of paper you gave me as a bookmark.”

Jason lifted his arm off his head. “No shame in asking for help.”

“I told you, I’m not being fucking abused.” You started picking on the leather of your boots, tracing along the creases of where your toes folded. “I don’t know what the hell made you think I was.”

“It doesn’t have to be actual physical abuse,” he sat up on his elbows.

“You really wanna make us feel uncomfortable? Why do you come to school with bruises all the time?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna fucking tell you, Y/LN.”

“Fine. Then let’s not talk about this.”

You had that usual condescending tone, but you didn’t sound like you were on the verge of lashing out. You sounded like you were pleading, even. Jason bit his lower lip. “Okay. What do you wanna talk about? It’s too early to sleep.”

You brought your knees up to sit cross legged and you leaned in on your elbows.

“Wanna play a game?”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “What?”

You scooched closer to him and swung your legs over the edge of the table. He did the same and faced you. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Just give me your hand, Todd. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Jason snorted, leaning his elbow over his lap and giving his other hand over to you. You took it, smiling at him, then gripping firmly onto his wrist. “Make a fist.”

He fisted his hand and you could see a few veins pop out on his arm. You started rubbing the outside of his fingers. His eyes scrunched up, watching you. “Open your hand.”

He opened it, then you lightly slapped it with your own palm. “Fist,” you said again. He breathed and pulled it again to a fist. You repeated your first action with a growing smirk. “If I come out of this with one hand left-“

“Shut up. Open again.”

He opened his palm. And with a single finger, you tapped onto the center of his hand, then released your grip on his wrist.

Jason widened his eyes, amused. “It tingles.”

“I know right.” You folded your arms.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“That’s a secret.”

He then reached out his other hand to you. “Do it again.”

You laughed and snorted before grabbing his wrist, rubbed his fingers the same way you did the first time. Jason leaned over closer to look at your movements, and his nose was all scrunched up like it would when he was focused on a book. The corner of your mouth lifted, then you tapped his hand with your finger and let go.

“What sorcery is this?”

You shrugged, leaning back and folding your arms. “You have any tricks of your own?”

“Yes I do,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “Hold out your hand.”

You did so without hesitation. Jason held your fist, then looked straight at you. “Pick a finger and don’t tell me what it is.”

“Okay?” Your ring finger. Easy enough.

“Look straight into my eyes. Don’t look down.”

You rolled your eyes slightly to the side, licking the inside of your teeth, then did as told.

He was looking straight at you, not even trying to blink. A smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes had that same flick of a glare, but there was a little shine on them from the dim lamp post. You shook your head while still maintaining eye contact and felt his other hand start toying with your fingers.

“It’s your ring finger.”

“Huh,” you shuffled closer to him. “Do it again. I wanna watch your hands.”

“No. You have to look straight at my eyes.”

“Fine. Just do it again. I’ll pay more attention.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you both tried your best to hold back emerging bursts of laughter while he continued to toy with your fingers and trying not to blink.

“You're not choosing a finger.” He said.

“Not true. You just suck.”

It was true. You forgot to choose a finger. The middle finger this time. You shifted your focus, but the way he’d try to hold back a laugh made you choke. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m not.” He so was. You felt him touch your fingers, moving around them one by one. “You’re trying to look for movements.”

“Nope. It’s the middle finger.” He kept at it. Over and over, with you refusing to admit he read your mind.

His hands started feeling warmer each time. You didn’t know you noticed.

-----

A bustling, screeching noise of a cart being hauled around the room for the past ten minutes. You’ve been here for five hours. You were tired, starving, and sweating. You covered most of your face and ears with your hands, but the cart’s noises just kept going.

You shot up from the table. “DUDE. STOP.”

You normally had more insults to scream at him, but at that point of the night, you were all out.

Jason kept going and ignored you. Starting from one end of the library, he pushed the handles of the empty cart, accelerating it with his feet. When he gained the momentum, he placed his feet on the metal and rode it across the room. “Real mature.”

“Don’t be an old hag.”

He accelerated again from the opposite end, then climbed on. Jason went faster this time and just narrowly missed a shelf.

“There’s another cart right there if you have the balls to join me.”

You placed your weight on your arm, watching Jason sprint from one end of the room to the next. With a loud grunt, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, you jumped off the table.

You emptied the cart from the remaining books and pushed it to Jason’s side, who waited for you just by the shelves. “Jump when it speeds up.”

“I know what to do.”

He laughed. “Race you to the other side.”

You gripped on the handle firmly, watching the end of the room, the one lined with heavy bookshelves, and readied yourself. “GO.”

You sprinted the two carts and grabbed on with your life as you sped down the large enough room, feeling the air slightly cooler when it was rushing past your skin and hair. You laughed playfully, stopping just before you hit the shelf. “I win.”

“Are you kidding me? I was waiting for you.”

“One more lap.”

“You’re on.”

Again, you sped past the room. You held onto one side of the handle too hard and accidentally hit Jason’s cart, both of you almost tumbling to the ground. “I call foul!”

“It was an accident!” you laughed, then took the cart again to finish the lap. He caught up with you and you no longer stopped in between, continuously sprinting and jumping onto the metal all across the room. You rode past the shelves, the narrow aisles, narrowly missing the books. You almost hit the tables with the carts and you definitely hit the wall too hard when you stopped too late. Jason was trailing right beside you, then he went about his own route.

That’s when he purposefully hit the front your cart with your own, throwing you off on the ground. “FUCK”

He laughed too hard. “Come on. I have another game.”

Holding his hand out to you, you grabbed on and he pulled you up to your feet. You stood close to him, both of you still laughing. And you were staring too long at his face being close to yours. You pulled away from his lingering grip, looking at the ground.

Setting his own cart aside, he pulled on yours, settling it between the aisle of the shelves. It went straight through the longest path down the room, and you’d have to be lucky to miss the shelves. “Hop on.”

“Todd, if you throw me out the window-“

“Come on. Don’t be a pussy.”

You felt the rush, and you liked how free you felt rushing through the air. You climbed into the cart, grabbing hold of the edges and focused on the end of the room.

Jason leaned in to your ear. “Don’t scream.”

“JASON.”

He was incredibly strong, pushing you in the cart like you weighed nothing and sped through the room faster than he previously had. The cart was growling and was so ready to break apart, but you never felt that kind of thrill since you last rode a coaster. You definitely screamed, a high-pitched shriek you know Jason must never mention to anyone, ever. But you were also laughing your stomach out when Jason turned you around, sped to the other end again. And this time, his feet jumping onto the cart.

You threw your head back, laughing, then you caught a glimpse of his face flashing the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

Your laughter came to an abrupt stop when he stopped the cart too late and crashed against the shelf. You both stood still, watching it toppling like an unsteady jenga tower.

Holding your breath, you heard books fall to the floor, then the shaking mellowed down and you released your breaths when it finally stopped. Turning to Jason and falling into the cart laughing, you clutched at your stomach. “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Not funny!” he cried out, but even he was stifling a laugh. He walked over to the front and placed the books into the cart with you. Some fell on your lap, and you took the books from him and placed them to your side.

“At least we have something to do now.”

“Yeah. Especially since you put these books in the wrong shelf. These belong over there.” He pointed to a shelf nearby.

“Let’s fix it then,” you said, still not moving from the cart. He placed all the books from the floor onto you and moved the cart to the corner.

“You’re heavy.”

“Shut up. From now on, we shelf books this way.” You took a book from your lap and gave it to him, who placed the book in its right place.

“Top shelf,” you smirked.

“I know where to put them.” He took it from your hand and shoved it in place. You didn’t have many books to begin with, but even after that, he continued to push the cart, with you still hitching a ride, and you walked around the library to just look at all the books.

“Everything’s in the right section.”

“Because of me. You made a shit ton of mistakes.”

You threw your head back, looking at him. And from that angle you could see his glare turn into a smile. You leaned against the back of the cart, your head lightly touching his arm.

When you’ve managed to tour the whole library, you sat up.

“You're turn. Get in here.”

Jason wanted to laugh at that. “You’d never be able to lift me.”

“Watch me try.”

You hopped off the cart, pushing him aside from the handle. He shook his head, but eventually climbed on like you had. He was bigger than you, so he looked a lot more uncomfortable with his knees folded way up and his arms barely fitting inside the cart.

He was really heavy. But you managed. Pushing the cart slowly at first, Jason leaned in to the left side to steer you off. “Jason!”

“I see stray books. Go over there.”

You pushed the cart with whatever might you had. When you reached the desk, Jason took the books you previously set aside and placed them on his lap. “Braille,” he said. “These go all the way to the back.”

“I can handle this. I’m a big girl.”

You pushed the cart, eventually gaining speed, but it wasn’t nearly as fast as when he’d pushed you around. You reached the far back, with two sharp turns that nearly killed your back, then stopped with a loud breath.

“You're right. We should do this more often.”

You were panting by that time, and Jason handed you the books to place on the shelf. “Chop chop.”

-----

Two fucking am. The power was still out. Jason was definitely going to call the electricity company when you both get out of here. You were sat cross legged on one side of the long, narrow table, fiddling with your sleeves since you couldn’t sleep. He was laying on the same table but facing the opposite way, closing his eyes and feeling the beginnings of light slumber. His back was going to kill him eventually, but when the rush from that cart fiasco died down, he was so awfully tired.

Jason laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes as tightly as he could.

Then a warm, soothing melody started to buzz through his ears, a tune he’s never quite heard of before. His eyelids suddenly grew softer, feeling the humming song vibrate through him.

Where was it coming from?

He slowly opened his eyes, trying to find the source. Jason craned his head up to you, with your back turned to him, and realized you were the one humming.

You turned to him, and he went back to closing his eyes, pretending to sleep. “Jason?” you lightly asked, not enough to wake him if he was actually asleep. You turned your back around and crouched over to relax.

He wasn’t sleeping anymore, but he kept closing his eyes. A little while later, with you thinking he wasn’t conscious, he heard you actually start to sing.

 You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better

Starting from zero got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself I got nothing to prove

 Then you paused. Your voice was so soft and light, he never would’ve have heard it if there was anyone else in the room or if he wasn’t awake. You never would’ve sung if you knew he was, though.

You had the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard in his life.

 You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

 Your voice was low, a beautiful, vibrating low. An alto. And there was that deep, breathy growl when you reached the lower notes with ease. A light vibrato at the end of the vowels, and there was that drowsy, slow feel to it that just made it seem like you didn’t make that much effort at all. At some points, you whispered the words, like your everyday screaming never affected your vocal chords at all.

There was a tug at his chest, his face started to burn up. He was wide awake by now, and there was that thudding within him that was too hard to ignore. And it worsened each time you breathed out the end of the verses.

You managed to finish the song, and by then, he was a mess.

You didn’t sing anything more, no matter how much he wished you would. He ended up fighting his tiredness, just in case he’d miss another song.

But right before he drifted to sleep, he realized he’d been smiling his cheeks off.

-----

Twelve hours.

You were stuck in the library.

For twelve fucking hours.

Both of you shot up from the table the moment you heard the chains outside the door clink to the ground. You and Jason raced out the door, and before the security guard could totally open it, you violently pushed it aside and raced out into the wide-open space of the driveway outside the gates. The poor guard looked puzzlingly at you. But since he was too old to care or even ask about what happened, he shrugged it off.

The cool air felt heavenly against your skin, and the bright sun, smiling back at you against your face. You spread your arms out and took in the breeze as much as you could. Jason was fanning himself with the collar of his shirt, raising his arms up the same way you were. “AHHHHH.” He screamed. And you did the same. The frustration went out the window as fast as you’d ran.

“FUCKING FINALLY.”

“THAT IS NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN.”

“NEVER.”

You faced the sky, still taking the deep, fresh intakes of air. Jason placed his hands on his hips and ruffled his sweat covered hair.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed,” you said. “Not even Ms. Peterson.”

“Not a single soul.”

You both faced each other, raising your brows, no longer from a glare or out of annoyance. Your body felt light. Your chest felt lighter. You were smiling.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Kudos to us for surviving.”

A high five. And you both laughed, still feeling that flush of relief flow throughout your limbs. No one was in school yet. It was Saturday, though. No one but a few of the faculty members were going to show up.

But the sky looked pink, mixed with a bright yellowish orange. The driveway never looked so clean, and the breeze was so wonderfully cold, with the autumn leaves still floating on the grass and the roads, you just felt happy. Your lingering gaze on Jason helped with that bright smile.

As if twelve hours in the library was nothing. As if it wasn’t torture at all.

As if it was, in fact, the most fun you’ve had in a single night in a long, long time.

“Walk safe.”

“Bye, Todd.”

Walking towards opposite ends of the sidewalk, hands on your sides and not in your pockets like you usually would. You couldn’t stop grinning.

Sparing one last glance behind you, seeing him get on his motorcycle, you turned to the corner of the street.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-------

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH PLS TELL ME YOU ENJOYED THAT CUZ I CERTAINLY DID

THE SINGING SCENE IS REALLY INSPIRED BY LIZ GILLIES (REMEMBER THE READER IS BASED ON JADE WEST) SO THE FAST CAR SINGING SCENE WAS ACTUALLY INSPIRED BY THIS VIDEO

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nugget http-cherries shadowsndaisies 

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

KEEPING UP WITH THE ARIZAS

Michael “Riz” Ariza x Reader

Chapter 6: “The first date: first attempt”

Word Count: 2.3k

Author comments: Warning of some angst, and I'm not even sorry. This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, more or less 'cause I cut it to keep Antonio's part, but credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @leaalfred ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“I can't believe you're gonna actually do'et”.

Your father appeared from nowhere, resting a shoulder on the door frame, cross-armed. He looked at you from top to bottom, rolling his eyes with a snort, while you put your makeup on point with a red lipstick. The rest was somewhat light, but you needed to highlight your lips, one of your best attributes.

“Do what, dad?”

“Trying to ask Riz out”.

“Why?” You inquired turning at him, with both hands supported on the edge of the sink, twisting your neck some inches to the right.

“'Cause he's my friend, my brother”.

“Then, I just have to kill you. Which is a good idea 'cause he could feel guilty for god knows why, so he would want to take care of me. Maybe live together at the ran—”.

“He's older than you. And not even his type”.

“The encouragement you give me… Wao, papá!”

“I'm trying to protect you”.

“Well, thank you. I don't need it, okay? I've been preparing myself since I have fifteen. And… shouldn' you let me commit my own mistakes?”

“Good. I don' wanna hear you cry after him laughing at this… bullshit”.

Those last words felt like a knife stabbing your chest. Almost five years working on it. Trying to be his friend, losing your ass even when he was simply breathing close to you, taking interest in whatever he could be doing (...). It wasn't only a physical attraction. You really found him very intelligent, funny, hard-working and loyal. And it could sounds bad, but sometimes you wished to be one of Vicki's girl, because of the much care he had with them. Almost five years working on it, arming yourself of courage, just to see how it burned among the flames of your insecurities at the end.

You raised your eyes subtly outlined, looking your reflection in the mirror. One minute ago, you were feeling stunning, amazing, out of this world, even sexy wearing a tight black dress over your knees and a heart shaped neckline. It was the first time you were dressing like that, trying to surprise him, being used to see you on your ‘rider outfit’ which is a cool one too. Now you felt ridiculous, with some painful lashes running under your chest, snorting because you knew your father was right. Taking off the makeup from your face with a wipe, your father put his head out the door.

“Are you re—? What are you doing? For god's sake, (Y/N), when I get to the party, there will be no beer! Those fucking prospects drinks more than the fuckin' Charlie Sheen on his day off”.

“I forgot I have an exam next week, leave to the clubhouse”. You just said, cleaning the red color covering your pinky lips.

“Mi amor, listen…” He raised a hand close to you, being stopped before he could touch you.

“Dad, just fuckin' leave! Okay? I'm fucking fine”. Interrupting him, you threw the wipe inside the sink with a sudden move. “I fuckin' get it. Your brother. Older than me. With interest in women, not in… in… I don' even know what the fuck I am”.

“Cariño...”

“A fuckin' clown, dad. That's what I am. A. Fucking. Clown”. You pointed out every word on air with your left forefinger.

“You don' need to be this rude”.

“Well, fuck you for breaking my fuckin' heart, instead of telling me ‘go, do it and if he doesn't want you, I'll hold you’. That's what a normal father would say to his daughter”.

“I didn' mean to hurt you”.

“But you did”. Turning at your father to face him, you took off the black dress raising it on air hanging it in your fingers. “I had to work at Bernardino's one month to afford it, and all the makeup you see here. From dusk till dawn, surrounded by creepy drunk old men”.

“I could have paid it for you”. He said then, with a guilty tone of voice because of everything.

“But, that's not the point, dad! I was trying to show Riz I can also earn my own jack”. You leaned towards the toilet where you left your huge Mayan's black shirt to wear it. “Go to the party, get drunk with your brothers, fuck some chick and have fun”.

Your father toured his incisors with the tip of his tongue, nodding in silence. After clean the mess in the bathroom and keep all your stuff there, you just lay down in bed hugging one of your big pillows. You were waiting for that weekend for five long days away at the university, as every week since you move out of Santo Padre to San Diego.

You didn't know you had keep it. You totally forgot it and finding it brings you bittersweet memories of that night and what happened the days after. Giving a spin over the black high-heels, putting well the tight dress on, you have a look in the mirror. Still fitting like a glove to your anatomy. And you're incredibly stunning in it. You like it, you have always liked. But you don't feel like you can use it. It's like if it is going to bring some bad luck to your relationship.

“Shit, you look like a cheap bitch, baby”.

You were so self-absorbed, that you haven't realized Riz was resting his back on the door frame.

“Yeah, I'm gonna ask Vicki to be one of her girls, 'cause you can't even find your small cocky”.

Teasing each other all the time it's a current mood. And you love it. Turning at him and focus all your attention in your husband, your eyes notice the way he tied his hair in a small black bun with some bristles falling by his temples. No matter how many years can pass away, he will run you out of air with the most minimal detail.

“Are we celebrating something?” Riz lifts up an eyebrow, licking his lips. Not being nervous, but excited about the idea. “I know every special date and today isn't one of them”.

“It's just a dress, Michael”.

“Really? I was about to ask you to marry me again”. He chuckles crossing both arms on his chest covered by leather.

“I bought it seven years ago, for a… date I should have had, and that never happened”.

Riz's jaw get tense from zero to one hundred, just in a second. His gesture turns into somewhat more confused, when he notices the sadness and the pain in your voice. You never told him about that night, but maybe could be a good moment to do it. Your eyes come back to your own reflect in the mirror, before taking off the shoes, heel against heel losing almost seven inches of high.

“One month working in a… bikers' pub, enduring bullshit, to buy it. But I stayed at home”.

Riz isn't sure if he wants to know how a guy broke your heart, but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know why you kept that dress, seeming it like the dead body of a bad memory. And you're talking about something that happened seven years ago. Before being together, so he's starting to make his own Netflix movie in his head.

“I was i—”.

“I don' wanna fuckin' hear it”. He just raises a hand slightly, shaking his head.

“Why?”

“I don' give a fuck about what you did seven years ago”.

His hardened voice gives you some chills around your back, knowing he's really angry because of what he's imagining. Something too far from reality.

“Take that fuckin' dress off”.

And that is the best confirmation to know the grade of his annoyance.

“Riz, I wanna tell you something”.

“Fuck, no! You have told me a million times that I was your first love. Your only one. But something happened seven years ago that broke your fuckin' heart and fucked you down, and you keep that… clothe you were gonna use with him. How the fuck should I feel, ah? So you lied to me and… what? I was the second choice?”

“You should be a film director”.

“Good, thank you for first hurting me and then fucking laughing in my face”.

“Could you plea—?”

“FUCK, NO, (Y/N)! I'm fucking disappointed right now!”.

For a second you could swear that your husband is about to cry, with his eyes getting reddened. You can feel the tension in his body, seeing how furious his chest grabs and expels the air.

“It was my father”. You say then, before giving him the opportunity to leave the room. “My father broke my heart, actually. Even if the date wasn't with him. It was me who didn't go”.

Now, he's a little more confused, turning at you after giving you his back some seconds ago.

“Actually, me and… the ‘other guy’... we never talked about having a date. I just… wanted to force it. I mean, he was my friend. The point was come to the clubhouse and maybe earn some time together, alone”.

Yes, you're making him suffer a little, but he never was clear with you. So it's a kind of payback. And you know exactly what he is thinking. Clubhouse, Mayan, friend, seven years ago: Angel. He has been your best friend since ever.

“I can't fuckin' believe you…” He whispers letting his head falling down, until his chest meets his chin, laughing between teeth bitterly.

“But my father told me that he would never notice me, as I wanted, as I wished it. Do you wanna know why?”

“Fuck, no. And fuck you, (Y/N)”.

You have to do a big effort to not break in laughter, walking closer towards him.

“Because he was his brother. He was loyal. And a little bit older than me. Apparently I wasn't his type either”.

“I'm fuckin' done with this… bullshit, (Y/N)”. He says then whilst moving his hands about to lose his mind, walking away from the main room, looking for his helmet to leave the house.

You don't move a single inch of your body, waiting just one second before raising your voice.

“But he finally noticed me, 'cause I broke a bitch's nose who was talking shit about him!”

Silence. You can't hear his heavy boots touring your home. Riz is standing next to the principal door, and you don't need to be looking at him to know it.

“That night when Coco was full patched! I was ready to go and ask him out!” You add dancing your hips from the left to the right slightly, waiting patiently for Riz to coming back. “I was mentalizing myself for almost five years to do'et! But I thought my father was right! And I decided not to do it 'cause… I was more scared of losing that friendship, than him breaking my heart”.

Even if that last sentence is recited something low, you're sure he has heard it, with his steps walking through the hallway right to the room.

“But… well, I finally got my date, but I didn't use that dress just in case it brought me bad luck. I was too in love, to ruin it for a superstition. And I kept it in a bag”.

Riz appears again with pursed lips and his dark eyes on his feet. A little ashamed because of his words, but still being mad because of you making him believe something it wasn't true just to tease him.

“And…” Taking some steps close to the Mayan, you grab the helmet to leave it above a chair, placing his hands on your waist after that. “I made him the love of my life, my best friend, my confidant, the prize of my good karma, my soulmate…”

“All that?”

“Nope, I made him a lot of things more. But those are the most important”. Traveling your hands to his shoulders and lifting up yourself on your tiptoes, you kiss your husband with all the love you feel inside your chest. Slowly, enjoying it.

Sometimes you forget how lucky you are of having Riz by your side, and sometimes he does it too, but you know you own the whole world being together. He's the most kind man of all. The most loving, pleasing and empathic husband you could ask for. Always working hard to make you smile, to make you feel like a goddess, to make you feel proud of what you two have. Michael lives for you, and you live for him.

Deepening the kiss a little more by straining his tongue between your lips, his fingers go up to your cheeks caressing them and pushing you closer to him, with his scent intensifying and flooding your lungs. His mouth molding perfectly to yours, as always, so slow that steal you a soft gasp tangling your hands on his wrists.

“I have never felt love for anyone it's not you, mi rey”. You say almost in a whisper, when you pull away yourself a second to take some air, touching his nose with yours. “And marry you for a second time sounds so good…”

“Change your clothes, mi amor”. Riz soughs, eyes closed, with a silky loud tone bristling your skin. “We're leaving”.

“To Las Vegas?” You sound excited as a five years old about to go to DisneyWorld for the first time, even if you're already married.

“You wanna marry me again?”

“I wanna marry you every day of my life, Riz”.

[foolishlovebugbaby]

skz’s reaction to their s/o having plump lips

requested by @0leelina0​! thanks for sending this in, i felt so giddy writing it ehe i hope you like it!

side note: i don’t know what to do with myself anymore i-

bang chan

i feel like he’d absolutely love his s/o having plump lips

like at first he wouldn’t pay attention to your lips much (because let’s face it, he’d be too infatuated with the entirety of your face to just focus on your lips)

but the more you both got to know each other, the more he’d find himself staring at your lips whenever you spoke

he just loves watching them move 

and it makes him absolutely weak in the knees whenever you kiss him on the cheek or just anywhere on his skin

and don’t get me started on how much he’d love to kiss them

he swears up and down he could makeout with you for an entire day

and he always tries to do so

“No, just a few more minutes,” He’d mumble against your lips as you attempted to pull away.

“Channie, I literally cannot breathe anymore.” You let out an airy laugh and he leaves a soft peck on your lips.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Nsfw: he’s definitely into the whole lip-biting thing 

and you giving him neck kisses is his biggest turn on omygod

lee know

minho knows that he’s got the prettiest lips on planet earth

but when he met you, he realised that although he may have the best lips on earth, you’ve got the best lips in the entire universe

a hard fact to accept, but my guy was too whipped for you to let it get to him

he’d absolutely love taking kissy face selfies with you 

you both would make kissy faces at each other so often that it became second nature rather than an inside joke lmao

the first time you kissed his cheek, he swore he had died and gone to heaven and that an angel kissed him to wake him up

but then a cheek kiss turned into a lip one and there was no going back

he’d be obsessed with leaving lingering kisses on your lips, very slow and intimate yet firm

and sometimes he’d prefer it that way over intense, passionate ones

sometimes

because let me tell you, this man is k i n k y

Nsfw: definitely a lip biter like chan, and he’d savour each and every moment of your lips on his skin

“My lips are ten times bigger now than when we first started,” you chuckle in disbelief at your swollen lips

“Oopsies.” Minho says as he hugs you from the back, a smug and cheeky eye smile plastered all over his face.

changbin

your lips are definitely the first thing he notices when he meets you

he can’t help but stare; they’re so eye catching and pretty and god, his mind already wonders what it would be like to kiss them

just like himself, you have a habit of licking and biting your lips 

whether it be out of nervousness or pure habit

but he finds it so endearing and attractive that he finds himself mimicking your actions every time you do so

he finds it incredibly sexy whenever you bite your lips

like, heart-stoppingly sexy

and he loves to run his thumb over your bottom lip whenever your face is in his hands

and leaving random, quick pecks on them whenever he has the chance

“We’re in public silly,” You jokingly scold him as he wraps his arms around your waist and peppers your lips with feathery kisses.

“I can’t help it, you’re too addicting.”

but when you two are alone, it’s a whole other story

Nsfw: he l o v e s to suck on your bottom lip when you both are making out

like, just the feeling of your lip between his all soft and plump makes his blood rush in ways that words can’t even describe

and running his tongue over your bottom lip makes him all woozy and delirious ugh

case in point: every makeout session is a steamy one.

hyunjin

hyunjin met his match the moment he laid eyes on your lips

like, he still can’t believe that someone could rival his full lips

but alas

even when you two started dating, he still remained humorously competitive about it

he’d go around asking his members which one of you had the better lips in the relationship

and everyone found it absolutely hilarious that he still wouldn’t let it go

being the weirdo he is, he has tons of photos of your lips in his camera roll

he tries to justify it by saying they’re for comparison when he makes other people choose who’s is better, but the reality is he just loves to stare at them when he misses you

what a sweet weirdo

“I got the most votes this time, pay up.” Hyunjin says smugly, puckering his lips for a victory kiss and you roll your eyes at his foolishness.

“I’m winning next time though,” You say and kiss him tenderly.

“I really don’t mind if the price to pay is kissing you.” He says sweetly when you pull away.

Nsfw: he seems like the kinky type, but i actually see him as more of a sweet, tender kisser rather than an intense one

intimate, long kisses just gets him going man what can i do

han

han loves to stare at your lips when you talk

he just finds them so captivating that it puts him in a trance

at first you thought he found your lips weird because his eyes were always trained on them

but then he revealed that it was only because he was smitten with the way you smiled and moved your lips

the amount of lyrics he’s written about your lips and how magical they are alone is either alarming or charming, but you’re not complaining

often times when you both are cuddling and just enjoying each others’ presence, he’d trace his finger around the contours of your lips 

he finds everything about the way they’re shaped perfect and complimentary to the rest of your features, and he doesn’t keep his thoughts to himself

mans so whipped i love him

Nsfw: like changbin, he loves to suck on your bottom lip and tug on it playfully

especially when he’s ~in the mood~

but he also really enjoys long and firm kisses, minus all the tongue and antics because he just wants to pour all of his love for you into each kiss 

“You drive me insane, you know that?” Han says with half-lidded eyes as you both pull away to catch your breaths.

“Does this mean i have better lips than Minho?” You say playfully.

“Oh shut up and kiss me you dork.”

felix

felix is just so sweet and precious that he’d be fixated on every single feature of yours 

one week he’d focus on complimenting your eyes

the next your nose

but when he reached your lips???

he would not be able to shut up about them

he’d find them sosososos charming and would try and force you to make kissy faces at him just so that he can swiftly go to peck them and catch you by surprise

such a cheeky boi

he’d find kissing you so comforting and warm and just the epitome of tenderness, it makes him feel so calm and sound

“Each kiss feels just like the first.” He said just above a whisper against your lips.

“That’s funny, this is like the billionth kiss of the week.” You chuckle and he laughs only to bring you back in for another.

Nsfw: i’m here to retract all soft uwu’s because lee felix, 5 minutes into a makeout, can and will turn into an absolute beast

he’d be soooo into lip biting and just playing with your mouth with his own 

and he’d be so passionate each time and ahodhofh i’m sorry i dont make the rules

seungmin

ohmygosh my sweet baby

he’s so precious that he would blush every time you’d catch him staring at your lips

even when you both started dating he’d still get all shy and red whenever you’d leave a kiss on his cheek or forehead or eyelids

but he absolutely loves it when you do so

he’s a sucker for affection, and your plump lips kissing all over his face would just make all the love feel even more amplified

he loves giving you short, sweet pecks out of the blue and seeing you blush sweetly whenever he does so makes him all giddy

and he’s always finding excuses to kiss you

“You’ve got some ice cream right,” He leans in close to your lips, “Here.” In a second his lips are on yours, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and your whole face flushes. 

“You could’ve just used a tissue.”

“Our climate is collapsing and you want to waste tissue? Could never be me.”

Nsfw: yall hear sumn?

i.n

he’s literally still in the womb what do i say

our sweet baby would not know what to do with himself when he starts being infatuated with you, let alone when he realises how charming your features are

he’d be so giddy and giggly around you

fooling around, squishing your lips between his fingers

and whenever your kiss him on the cheek, he would need an entire 10 minutes just to recover from it

don’t even get me started on a first kiss

like he’d honestly think he could die happy with the feeling of your pillowy lips on his

he’d be so gentle and happy with you and would always leave feathery kisses around your lips and on your cheeks 

“S-stop, that tickles Jeongin,” You giggle while he peppers kisses around the corners of your mouth and on your jaw. 

“Whoops,” He says cheekily and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

Nsfw: page does not exist

woojin

woojin would be such a gentleman that he’d remind you everyday of how beautiful every part of you is

your lips were never an insecurity but they weren’t your favorite feature either

but that all changed when woojin showed you so much tender love and care

he’s such a sweetheart man

he’d love to help you put on lipliner and lipstick just for fun because it ‘reminds me of art class’

“Kim Woojin, you overdrew my lips too much and now I look like a clown!” You scold him, red lipliner smudged all around your chin as you attempted to wipe it off.

“Well I think you look cute.” He says matter-of-factly, grabs your face and kisses you sweetly.

Whenever you’d fall asleep on his lap he’d leave tender kisses on our lips and just admire every inch of your face 

im cryin i miss him

Nsfw: when mans is in the mood, mans is in the mood

kissing is his favorite form of foreplay hands down and would be so passionate and sometimes rough 

but hey ain’t nobody complainin bout that