#i might have a slight obsession with cinnamon guys

[icyfox17]

i've started to put cinnamon into my hot chocolate

greatest decision of my life

[badomensbaby]

so into you. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.

words: 4,680

a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence. 

It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite. 

You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much. 

Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly. 

Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen. 

You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke. 

It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice. 

A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes. 

“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”

Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”

A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”

Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste. 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”

“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning. 

It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production. 

Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat. 

“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”

“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”

The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours. 

Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up. 

It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio. 

You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth. 

Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”

You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”

Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”

“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip! 

“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”

You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect. 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” 

A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”

“My manager said I’m doing well-“

“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense. 

Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move. 

You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”

“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”

Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”

“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”

Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”

“It’s not.” You mutter weakly. 

“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”

“Luke-“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”

“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”

Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie. 

It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out. 

“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”

“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”

Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”

“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”

“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try. 

With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”

Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”

“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you. 

You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees. 

“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”

“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”

Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin. 

Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough. 

Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated. 

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”

“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”

“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”

The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”

You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”

“Just.. give me a minute?”

“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”

You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.

 Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm. 

So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“

“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”

Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length. 

“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”

“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“

“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”

“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“

“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before. 

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”

“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan. 

Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards. 

And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”

You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white. 

“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”

What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off. 

“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants? 

“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”

Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”

“Y/N..” Luke frowns. 

“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”

“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”

“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”

“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful. 

“Maybe over dinner?” He asks. 

“Pick me up at six.” You counter. 

Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”

You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”

“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-

You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note. 

you: [123 Main St]

you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident. 

you: file.mp3

[changkyunswifey]

love, games and cinnamon rolls l lee minhyuk

wc: 526

request: Hi can I request a minhyuk fluff where he is playing games and like the reader sits on his lap and wants his attention and cute stuff and maybe they cuddle at the end. Love your work by the way!❤️

genre: fluff at 100%

pairing: gn!reader x minhyuk

contains: lots of fluff and a bit of humor i think?

a/n: it took me forever to post this, hopefully you’re still here to read it - the ending sucks but i did my best alright..

Tonight was a chill date night with your boyfriend which meant ordering take-out and eat on the couch while watching whatever random TV show was trending on Netflix.

And it did happen. It was nice, comforting and funny, you guys had not spend some time together in a while so this was refreshing, exactly what you both needed after a week of hardship.

After you cleaned everything up together you said you needed to freshen up real quick but when you came back to the living room, that’s when you heard it.

The noise of his favorite game of the moment - if not his newly found obsession. You knew you were done for at this point. Minhyuk is a very loving boyfriend, and he gives you all the attention that you need if not more but when he finally gets into something, especially a video game, it is as if he falls into a trance and you cannot get him out of it. But you could still try, right ?

So first you walked to the back of the couch and draped your arms around him, resting your chin at the top of his head, you heard a slight chuckle coming from him, that was a good sign you thought.

“Do you think you’re going to play for a long time ?” you asked knowing that even if you needed his attention, he deserved to get his little me time too.

“Just a few games, and I am all yours Y/N” he responded mindlessly. And well, that is what they always say but never do.

But you gave him some time, because once again you were aware that he needed that. But still, after a while, you now craved for the tiniest bit of his attention.

So you came back to the living room and this time you walked in front of him and made your way onto his laps and snuggled against him, peppering his neck with kisses, intentionally tickling him in order to make him laugh and lose focus, which did happen. He huffed as his character in the game died, “You really had to go to that extend Y/N ? Really ?” he said mischievously.

“Well, desperate situations call for drastic remedies...” you said jokingly and as the both of you laughed you heard a faint ‘ding’ coming from the kitchen.

“What was that ?” asked Minhyuk, kind of scared that the fire alarm might have went off, but it was all part of your plan.

As you looked at him with a smile, he sniffed the air, “You did not..” he started, “I did not what ?” you replied playfully, “You made cinnamon rolls ??” he questioned with stars in his eyes.

“You bet I did !” you joyfully exclaimed which made Minhyuk suddenly stand up with you cling onto him like a koala as he walked both of you to the kitchen before slowly dropping you on the edge of the counter.

He kissed your forehead before resting his against yours, gently but yet lovingly kissed your lips and declared “Okay, now I definitely don’t regret dying in that game.” 

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter V: Han Jisung, you irresistible young man!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! language, mentions of homicide (no one actually dies!), oral sex (m. rec) (yes again), exhibitionism

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k words

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn @dwaebinnie @gothmingguk @minniehohos

Unable to tag: @kayannainsworth19

(want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

“You’re evil,” Jisung pouted, pulling down on his oversized shirt to cover his still semi-hard on as the two of you walked down the hall. You snickered, enjoying the way he walked almost painfully.

“Sorry,” you grinned. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“For you!” he cried. He leaned closer to your ear and hissed quietly, “You’re not the one who has a boner!” You quickened your pace, turning your head to throw a wink and a kiss. Jisung grumbled, awkwardly waddling faster to catch up to you. “Minx. You evil she-devil of a minx!”

“Hey, is it my fault you get horny easily?”

“Yes! It’s you, for fucks sake! Have you seen yourself?” he huffed. “You’re on my mind 24/7, do you even know how much you affect me?”

Your heart raced. You rolled your eyes and laughed him off, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your flustered expression. Scoffing playfully, you said, “Now that sounds like a you problem, doesn’t it?”

“Y/n~! Stop!” he whined.

You briefly glanced at his reddened face and sighed. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” You were about to enter the canteen until Jisung grabbed your wrist.

“I know how you can make it up,” he said with a somewhat timid look. He took a deep breath before stating more boldly. “Go on a date with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Wh-what?”

“Let’s go on a date. After school. Tonight.” Jisung stared at you with a newfound determination meanwhile your face grew hotter and hotter by the second. You stared at his reddened face, contemplating, before sighing.

“What time?”

“Oh, what? Seriously?” he gaped. “Holy shit. YES!” He threw his fists up in the air, hollering. “Oh my God, fuck yeah!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he rejoiced, despite the slight embarrassment you felt from the scene he was causing. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you camly shushed him with a smile. “Sorry, I was just—wow. I really landed a date with the hottest person I know,” he chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the top of his fluffy blond hair.

You giggled, moving his hand away from his head to hold it instead. “Better show up all dolled up for me, pretty boy.”

“Pff, I always look good, Y/n. What’re you talking about?” Jisung smirked, obnoxiously holding his head up high. You rolled your eyes at his playful arrogance.

��Watch it. I can change my mind anytime.”

“I know you won’t.” He brought your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. The rate of your heart beat increased, body tingling in adoration. Jisung smiled, letting go of your hand. “Gotta go now, I need to work on some stuff with Chan and Changbin today, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yup, see you soon!” You waved goodbye as Jisung walked away. He was only 5 steps in when he turned around and started walking backwards to speak.

“Tonight’s gonna be a surprise! Just be ready by 6, okay?” he called out.

“Okay!” You watched his retreating figure until he was halfway out of the hall. You walked happily into the canteen, thinking about your date with Jisung.

‘5:56pm’

It’s been 5 minutes since you’ve been mindlessly brushing the ends of your hair. Placing the brush back down onto your coffee table, you stood up to check your outfit on the reflection of the blackened TV screen for the umteenth time, bending down to sweep off any dust from your flowy pants. Now, you weren’t typically the type to obsess over your appearance, but tonight is certainly an exception, right? Grabbing the lip balm in your bag, you slathered on a thin layer of the sweet scented stick, smacking your lips together with a ‘pop’, and placed back inside. A notification went off from your phone. Recognizing the unique ringtone immediately, you hastily bent down to grab it.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: im outside!

Me: Coming out now!

You rushed to the front door, grabbing your keys and switching off the lights in the living room in the process. You double checked everything in your apartment one last time before leaving.

“Hey.”

You jolted in surprise seeing Jisung leaning on the wall right in front of your door. “What the fuck, Jisung, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” he laughed, standing up straight. “I saw Hyunjin earlier and told him about our date. He looked pretty excited.”

“Yeah?” you said as you turned around to lock your door. “Is that why you were standing in front of my door like a creep?”

You giggled at Jisung’s incredulous expression. “I wouldn’t say ‘like a creep’ but yeah, he’s the reason why I found your apartment.”

“Still sounds like a creeper thing to do,” you teased. “I never told you exactly where I lived, that’s lowkey freaky.”

“Oh, uh...Sorry?”

You walked up to him, smiling at his embarrassed face. “It's okay. You’re cute so I’ll allow it.” Grabbing his hand, you led him to the elevator. “Let’s go?”

Jisung instantly smiled, walking fast so he can be the one leading you instead. “Mhm!”

Instead of driving or taking a taxi, the two of you walked. Not that you mind, at least the night was cool enough for you to not sweat. “So? Where are you taking me first?”

“Hey, didn’t I tell you tonight is a surprise?” Jisung grinned. “No questions, no doubting. Just trust me tonight.”

“Well, for all I know, you might be a murderer luring me out for my last night.”

“Please. If I was a murderer, I would’ve killed Hyunjin and Felix for stealing my cheesecake earlier.”

You snorted. “Wait, you like cheesecake?”

“Yup! And chocolate cake! God, I love those.” He looked at you excitedly. “I think it was my mom who got me into cheesecake? She isn’t the type to like sweets that much but cheesecake is the only dessert she genuinely loves.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I remember my brother and I used to go to the store a lot to buy it for her.”

“Cute,” you giggled. You walked a few more blocks before Jisung stopped you.

“Aaand...We’re here!” You looked past him to see a small Italian restaurant. The inside looked homey, not too extravagant, with only a handful of customers inside. It had a minimalistic vibe that you very much enjoyed.

You couldn't help but chuckle. “Cheesy” you joked. “Were you hoping we would ‘Lady and the Tramp’ this?”

“Oh my God,” he gasped exaggeratedly, “that would've been so cool! But no, I heard from Minho one time that you like pasta, so I did some research and found this comfy, and more importantly, affordable place!”

“Aww,” you cooed. “You did research for me?”

“Psh, of course I did! I wanted to impress you,” he said cockily. “So, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh yeah, very much impressed.” You reached over to pat his leather jacket. “Especially with this sexy jacket you’re wearing.” Jisung turned bashful, fumbling with the zipper on his sleeve.

“What? Too much?” he chuckled stiffly. “Changbin actually helped me, believe it or not. He told me you’d find me irresistible if I dressed up like this.”

You took a step back to admire his outfit. From his blond hair nicely styled, to the black ripped jeans he wore that showed off his slender legs, to the runstar hike Converse he wore often. Oh yeah, this man is hot shit, you thought, biting your lip. You looked back up to seeing him fidgeting with his black mock-turtleneck with a flushed face. You giggled, gingerly placing a warm hand on his face so he could face you. “You look good, Sung,” you smiled softly, as opposed to the not-so-innocent thoughts running through your mind. “Changbin’s right, by the way. You do look irresistible.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “But to be honest, I find you irresistible no matter what,” you winked flirtatiously, causing him to blush even more and smile giddily. You walked inside the restaurant, instantly catching the faint scent of cinnamon. Ooh Sweet… You stood near the door, waiting for a host to seat you. After 3 minutes, someone finally came by.

“Hello! I apologize for the wait, we’re just slightly short staffed tonight.”

“Felix?” you and Jisung said. Felix’s eyes widened, just realizing it was you two.

“Y/n? Jisung?” he gasped. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were going out already.”

“We’re, well. Not official yet,” you said. “We’re still in the ‘talking’ stage, right?”

Jisung nodded, humming in agreement. “But this is still a date though.”

“Lit,” Felix cheered, fistbumping Jisung. “I’ll show you to your table now.” Your host led the both of you to the corner of the restaurant. As you sat on the chair, Felix handed you some menus.

“So my bros, I’m Felix, everybody’s favorite little freckled Aussie, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He bowed like he would during a curtain call of a play.

“Your theatre side is coming out, Felix. Is it intermission now?” Jisung joked. You snorted while Felix rolled his eyes.

“Just give me your drinks for tonight.”

Without looking from the menu, you answered, “Water.”

“Just get me any soda you have, man. Thanks!”

“Aight. I’ll be back in 2 minutes to get your orders.” Felix walked back to the host stand to seat another set of customers. You sat in silence, skimming through your options on the menu.

“Didn’t know Felix worked here,” Jisung announced.

You shrugged. “Me neither. I guess that’s why he’s been so busy.” Another wave of silence hit the both of you. You calmly looked at the food presented on the pamphlet. However, Jisung couldn’t take the quietness.

“Remember that photography assignment you’ve been working on?” he paused, waiting for your acknowledgment. You hummed, making eye contact with him. “How is it?”

You grunted, stretching your back. “Honestly. It’s a lot harder than I thought,” you sighed. “I’ve taken countless photos already but none of them seem to resonate within me. I feel so...”

“Trapped? Blocked?”

You stared at him, the mood now oddly serious. “Yeah...Nothing seems to feel right. It’s like I’m missing something.”

“Man, I feel you,” Jisung sighed. “Lately I’ve been feeling that too. You know how many songs I’ve trashed cause they didn’t sound the way I wanted it to?”

“The life of an artist, am I right?” you joked tiredly. He nodded, patting your hand empathetically. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Felix walking back to your table. “Oh shit, Felix is coming back. Hurry up and decide what to get!”

Pain. That was all the two of you could feel.

Your head was on the table, clutching your full stomach. You looked up to see Jisung blankly staring up at the ceiling. Is he still breathing?

All of a sudden, he looked down at you, a smile beginning to form from the corners of his mouth. “You too?”

You groaned, the pain in your stomach coming back. “Why did we order so much goddamn food?”

“Go big or go home,” he weakly cried out, raising his fists up. You laughed in amusement, regretting it immediately after when your stomach started to ache again.

“Holy crap, we’re gonna die in here.”

“‘Least we’re dying happy?”

“Is—shit...A-are guys okay?” Felix asked, worriedly. The sight of your empty eyes greatly concerned him.

“Just had too much food. We’re good,” Jisung answered, giving him a thumbs up.

“Barely,” you muttered as you slowly lifted your head up.

“I wanted to ask if you guys wanted dessert but nevermind…” he eyed you both. You and Jisung made eye contact together before looking back at your friend.

“What’s the special?” you both asked simultaneously.

“Nuh uh. I’m not about to be responsible for your deaths. Go home!”

You pouted. “Come on, Felix. Don’t you love us?”

“Yeah, bro! We can take it, let’s go!”

“If I go to jail for potential homicide, I swear to God,” he sighed. “Fine. The special for tonight is a chocolate cheesecake sprinkled with shreds of Belgian chocolate.”

Both your eyes lit up. You looked back at each other as if you were speaking telepathically. Chocolate cheesecake?

“I’ll get you both only one slice!” Felix scolded. “If you guys need to puke, the restroom is down the hall behind you to your left.” Your freckled friend walked away, into the kitchen, as he glanced back at your drained forms.

“Gosh, now we’re really gonna die in here,” you whispered.

Jisung snorted as he hung his head back over the chair, “At least I’m dying with you.” You stared at his limp figure for a while before feeling the urge to take a picture. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you dug for your phone, finding it, then pulled it out. You swiped to the camera screen and took some candid photos of Jisung. “Hey, hey! Do it again!”

You looked up to see him pouting. “I know I’m handsome but if you wanted to take some pictures, you gotta tell me!” he said, sitting up and fixing his hair. You rolled your eyes, scoffing in amusement.

“Fine. Smile!”

Jisung smiled, winking as he threw up a peace sign. You took two pictures before looking up. “Okay, do something else now.” Now he pointed his index finger and thumb out, placing it under his chin. He winked again, now smiling with his teeth. Then, switching to another pose; he puffed his cheeks, hands cupping his face with his lips pursed. “One more.”

He switched from a cute pose to morphing his face into an ugly one. You laughed, “Gross!” The two of you took a couple more fun pictures together.

“Wow, I’m so handsome. Look at that,” he said. You were about to reply when you saw Felix walking back up to your table.

“Okay, bad news guys. I for real didn’t plan this, but we ran out of dessert.”

“Aww, seriously?” Jisung pouted, looking up at Felix.

He hissed, rubbing Jisung’s back. “Yeah, sorry guys. I guess chocolate cheesecake is in high demand here.”

You watched Jisung frown deepen more, slightly feeling bad. “We can go out to buy some, if you want, Sung,” you offered, holding his hand. He turned his hand so that he was able to hold it properly.

Sighing, he said whilst chuckling to lighten up his mood, “Nah. This is probably a sign for us to stop eating.” He let go of your hand, much to your dismay, and faced Felix. “It’s alright, dude. Maybe next time!”

“I feel bad,” Felix muttered. “I’ll make it up to you guys next time, promise!”

“It’s okay, Lix, it’s not your fault,” you said. “We’ll just get the check now then.”

Felix reached into his apron. “Yeah, here it is,” he said, handing you the black bill holder before walking away. “Sorry, again!”

As You were reaching for your bag to grab your wallet, Jisung stopped you. “I’m paying,” he announced. You gave him a stank look before swatting his hand away.

“I can pay too, you know?”

He refuted. “No, I’m a gentleman. That means me paying for our meal is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Equal rights.”

“My treat.”

The both of you tightly gripped onto the bill, death staring at one another. Neither were going to back down anytime soon. You stared hard at his face as he did the same.

“Okay, fine. Let’s compromise. We split the bill. Deal?”

Jisung hummed in thought. He was about to disagree until you pitched in. “I’ll let you pay a little extra?”

“Deal.”

You placed your split payment inside the bill holder and handed it to Felix. “Thanks guys, come back again soon!”

“Later, dude!”

“Bye, Lix!”

You walked out the restaurant, the bell on the door ringing as you left. You were about to take the path to your house until Jisung stopped you. “Park,” he whispered. “Let’s go to the park.”

You blinked, slightly off guard. “Okay…”

The walk to the park wasn’t too far, literally right across from the restaurant. It was a peaceful night, the cool breeze brushed past your bodies as you walked. Silence filled the air between the both of you; nothing but the wind and the sound of dirt crunching under your shoes was heard. The mood was...romantic. There was no one but the two of you in the area.

Your bodies brushed past one another every once in a while—more specifically, your hands. You wanted to say something when Jisung beat you to it. He shyly slid his hand into yours, watching you from the corner of his eyes, and smiled when you entwined your fingers together.

“Tonight was fun,” you said softly. You leaned closer to his body to rest your head on his shoulder. Jisung tightened his grip on your hand.

“Me too,” he whispered. “I just wish I can spend more time with you.”

“You see me everyday though?”

“Yeah, but like, I mean just you and me, alone; no one else. I—” he inhaled sharply. “I’m greedy, aren’t I?”

You looked at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you all the fucking time, Y/n. It hurts when I’m without you. I feel alive when we’re together. It’s like, I feel like my world would stop if I don’t see you.” You were stunned. You could only listen quietly to his rant.

“God, I sound so possessive, that’s not what I was trying to aim for,” he panicked. “I don’t care if you’re with the guys, or anyone else, I know you're not the type to pull shit like that; I trust you. I just—fuck, why is this so hard?”

He stopped walking all of a sudden and pulled you away from the path, leading you 7 feet into the trees. In any normal circumstance, you would’ve been terrified. However, this was Jisung—and you knew it, somewhere deep down, that he would never do anything to hurt you. He let go of your hand and faced you. “Jisung?”

His heart pounded erratically, he didn’t know if he was on the verge of getting a heart attack. He felt overwhelmed. Having you standing right in front of him felt like a dream. He took a deep inhale in hopes of calming himself down. “I meant what I said this morning.”

“Wh-wha…?”

“You’re in my mind 24/7, Y/n. Everyday, I always think about you to the point I’m starting to think I’m going insane. Every text, every call, every time we talk, my heart feels like it might pop out. I can’t focus and I don’t know what to do about it!” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Every song I’ve written was about you. Every time I look at my phone, I feel so disappointed when I don’t see a text from you.”

Jisung steps closer to you, nearly pinning you to the tree behind you. “You’re my muse, Y/n. I-I don’t really know exactly what my heart wants but all I know is that, you’re the person I want to spend my entire life with. I think…” he paused to take another deep breath. You could feel your own heart stopping, blood rushing up to your face. “I love you, Y/n!” Jisung declared loudly.

You didn’t know if the loud sound of a heart thumping was yours or his. You were stunned, happy, and scared; millions of emotions were racing within you. Not finding the proper words for yourself, you grabbed his face and kissed him. Jisung whimpered in shock, not really expecting that reaction from you. However, he quickly pulled himself together and kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You stayed like that until the burning in your chest overpowered the burn of your hearts. You both gasped heavily, taking back in the air you lost.

“You know,” your warm breath tickled his lips. “I never did take it up for the boner I gave you this morning.”

Jisung blushed, remember the embarrassment from earlier. “Yes you did? Our date is—”

“Then this is your gift.” You slowly kneeled in front of him, caressing his thighs as you went down. Jisung watched in shock.

“I—whoa. H-Here? I-in public? Y/n, that’s—”

“Do you not want this?” you looked up, wanting his confirmation. Jisung’s breath hitched, he never would’ve thought he’d be able to see you like this just yet. He bit his lip and nodded. You smiled, kissing his hip, before undoing his pants. You slowly pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his cock springing up and slapping his stomach. You found yourself drooling, finally seeing his cock in person.

Jisung groaned, the cool air hitting his dick. “Fuck…” You licked your lips then took him whole, catching him off guard. He moaned, his hand now gripping onto your hair. “Holy shit, Y/n!”

You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, as you pumped whatever your mouth couldn’t take in. The man above you let out heavy breaths, trying his best not to moan so loud. That was, in fact, proven to be difficult for your mouth was just heavenly. He rested his forehead onto the tree, looking down at you. Regret filled Jisung’s chest, greeted with the erotic sight of your cheeks puffed out, his cock sliding in and out of your pretty mouth. He moaned loudly into his arm. You moved your other hand to fondle his balls, causing Jisung to buck his hip into your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned. “So good—ah! F-Feels so good, shit!” He threw his head back, covering his mouth to mask his noises. His ragged breathing sounded absolutely delicious. You took his dick halfway out of your mouth, stopping right as you felt only his tip. You sucked harshly on it, tongue swirling around it until you decided to play with his slit.

Jisung roughly pulled on your hair, moaning so loud that it almost echoed through the trees. “Y-y/n…” he whimpered. You looked up to see tears brimming his eyes. You giggled, laughing even more when the vibrations from your vocal cords hit him all in the right places.

“Feels good, baby boy?” you briefly asked, immediately going back to his cock after. He nodded, pushing his hips closer to your face, almost making you choke.

“Y-yes, m-mommy.” A wave of arousal hit your core. You could feel your juices seeping right through your panties. The nickname had you moaning, much to Jisung’s pleasure as well. “Fuck! Mommy, more!”

You continued sucking and playing with the slit on his head as you pumped his shaft with one hand and groped his ball with the other. The higher Jisung’s voice raised, you knew the closer he was.

“Close, baby boy?” you giggled. He nodded, hips no fucking into your hand.

“Yes! Oh my God, I’m so fucking close, mommy!” he stuttered. “Please! Let me cum in your mouth!”

“Such a good boy, of course I’ll let you.” You attached your mouth back into his dick, moving your head once again to bring him closer to his high.

“Holy—FUCK!” Jisung moaned, his hand back onto his mouth to control his voice. His body shook as he released his creamy essence into your mouth. Your tongue swiped across his cock to lap up the rest of his juices. His and your unstable breathing was the only thing that could be heard now. Out of courtesy, you tucked him in back into his pants and stood up.

“Wh-What about you?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head as you patted his head.

“Nevermind about me. You’ve made me happy enough,” you grinned. “When you’re okay again, we can go back home.”

“So...Is this the part where I’m supposed to kill you?” Jisung laughed breathlessly.

The dim lights of the city were nowhere near as bright as your faces. The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, as slowly as you could, in hopes of the night never ending. But alas, the both of you had a morning class the next day. Jisung walked you all the way to your apartment door, telling you it was only for ‘safety measures’. What a liar.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You said as you unlocked your front door. Jisung grinned, pecking the hand he held.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully rolled your eyes. Letting go of his hand, you finally opened your door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You turned around to face him. “Yeah?”

Jisung stood there with a smile wider than before. “I love you.”

You giggled cutely. “Me too,” you said as you walked back to him to kiss his lips. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

“Goodnight...mommy.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes, “Hurry and go home already!” He turned around and started walking to the elevator, calling out one final ‘I love you!’ before he walked inside. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to act cool for you, but the bounce in his walk made him look like he was skipping gleefully. You laughed, walking back inside your apartment.

Inside the elevator, Jisung pulled out his phone to text someone.

Me: hey, minho?

when i finally get married to y/n...

please be our best man! :D

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

[anaiswriterr]

Black Magic

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story teaches you never ever, ever, place a spell especially an attraction spell or love spell without consent! Please never do this, this shouldn’t be played with unless with full consent, and if you know what you’re doing: obsession, puppy love at first, grows into unwanted attention, possessiveness. 

Authors Note: This is my least favorite fic to write, I’m so sorry to those that were looking forward to it.

Synopsis: “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned her witchy friend. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand suspiciously, she just wanted his attention nothing too serious. “If you doubt it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.”

- black magic - screamtober part five -

•

•

•

•

Y/N rests her cheek in her palm, eyes wondering on the boy who sat in front of her in class. If only he’d pay attention to her; she sighs and sits back in her seat. Ignoring his closed dense mind - how could he not see it! Everyone knew! Hell, even Mr. Aizawa knew and she bet all the teachers knew too of her growing feelings towards the angry spiked explosive quirk user.

All except him.

“Idiot.” She mutters beneath her breath continuing on with her notes, why couldn’t he tell? Why couldn’t he just pay attention to her?

***

“Just tell him already!” Mina chimes in, taking her bag of chips out of her bag. “What’s the worst thing he’ll do? Say no? Fine, then you move on!“ Mina crunches on the handful of chips she unconsciously shoved into her mouth, moaning as the nacho cheese flavors erupted in her mouth. Leaving Y/N to roll her eyes in annoyance, “I’m not as close to Bakugou as you are, I just want him to notice me.” Y/N sighs, pulling her phone out from her back pocket in hopes to find a distraction from her over whelming feelings for the temperamental boy.  

Mina chuckles, “Well if you really want his attention why don’t you come over tonight for a sleep over, my aunts in town and she studies witch craft. She could probably help you get his attention.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen in response as she excitedly turned her attention towards her friend, watching Mina intently with a serious gaze. “Please tell me your being serious!” Y/N exclaims. 

“Well yeah, tonight's Halloween so it’ll definitely set the mood.” 

Y/N’s chest swells with hope, the fact that the attention of her crush could quickly be averted towards her. She didn’t need anything special, nothing to fancy, but instead a push towards the right direction. “I’ll see you tonight then!” Y/N exclaims rushing towards her home and unlocking the front gate, “Okay lovely!” Mina grins waving goodbye to her friend for the afternoon. 

With the sun setting and children rushing home to put on their costumes, Y/N’s plan fell into full swing. Already packed her night bag with extra clothes, a brush, tooth brush, and other essentials she rushed to Mina’s house. Dodging the trick or treaters at her front door allowing her mother to pass out candy to the kids. 

“Stay safe, honey!” Her mother called out. 

But luckily for Y/N, Mina was only over three blocks down. 

Clutching onto her backpack and speed walking her way through the side walk, Y/N eventually reaches her friends house and presses the doorbell. 

The door swings open revealing the pink girl in her pajamas, a wicked grin tainted her lips. “Let get this party started!” 

***

Y/N met Mina’s aunt plenty of times, but she never knew that her aunt practiced the craft - though her aunt was still young only in her early twenties and still in college. Menmora nevertheless practiced the craft with caution, reminding Y/N of the consequences that could come from this request. 

“Please! Menmora, I just need something, anything that’ll get his attention!” Y/N begged, nearly on her knees in the living room as Mina ate a slice of pizza. Menmora flipped her pink hair over her shoulder and continued to file her nails. “Y/N I love you, but I don’t know if I should do this for you. It’s dangerous.. the consequences. Sometimes you can’t even break up with the guy. They get super obsessed in some cases. Why don’t you just talk to him, ooo how about buy some new perfume. It’s proven that the scent of vanilla can spike male pheromones into being more attracted-” 

Menmora is interrupted by the puppy eyes Y/N makes, her lips quivering as she pleaded. “You really like this kid don’t you?” Menmora sighs. 

“You have absolutely no idea.” 

“Fine, Mina go get my jars, cinnamon and honey from the cabinet. The paper and pen are in the same one as well, make sure to get the blue, pink, and red ones.” Menmora orders throwing her nail file towards the coffee table, Y/N lets out a small giggle in excitement. 

“It’s a full moon tonight, go get the candles.” She’s told, Y/N pushes herself up from the ground and rushes towards the dining room. Grabbing all the pink and white candles, any that were in her line of sight and rushes back to the living room where Mina had placed all the materials on the now cleaned space. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t know, about this anymore.. what if something goes wrong?” 

Y/N whips her head around, “It might not even work, but it’s definitely worth a try.”   

“Alright then, let light these candles.” 

***

A pink candle slowly melts onto a small jar, the wax drips off the sides, Y/N has no idea what’s going but the flicker of the surrounding lit candles captures her gaze. Suddenly slammed with the feeling of guilt and doubt, who was she kidding. “Bakugou won’t ever see me as one of his equals.. just some dumb extra.” 

She’s pulled back from her thoughts when the jar is thrusted into her face, “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned, suddenly suspicious of the “magic jar”. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand hoping this would work, she just wanted his attention. “If you doubt in the craft then it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.” 

Y/N didn’t need a forever, and perhaps those words manifested itself into existents. It was a silly idea, she thought. How desperate do you have to be, how stupid do you have to be. That weekend, after her sleepover with Mina she had forgotten all about the spell. 

It didn’t matter to anymore, she was just an extra in his story. A background character to his epic hero story.. 

But nonetheless a hero never gives up!

So instead of sulking around all day like she initially planned the day prior, Y/N woke up early that Monday morning, did her hair, took a shower, and sprayed on her best smelling perfume, and packed her UA practice uniform and marched outside the house.

Meeting up with Mina.

“You look extra chirpy today.” Mina grins, fixing her left sock.

“I feel amazing today, I look good, I smell good. I’m absolutely great.” Y/N claims, straightening out her skirt. Mina arches a brow and giggles, “Alright missus feel good, how are you feeling about the spell stuff.”

Y/N shrugs, adjusting the straps of her backpack to loosen over her shoulders. 

“Whatever happens, happens. And besides, is magic even real?” 

“I don’t know, we live in a world where 80% of population has a quirk. Before then nobody ever even thought about having superpowers. I’ve heard witchcraft is real, though.” 

“You’re right about that,” Y/N chuckles, “The world we live in is kinda weird.” 

The two teens laugh, continuing their way down the sidewalk catching the first subway train to UA High hoping to arrive early. 

And of course the two race to the first available seats there were - which weren’t many to begin with anyways. Y/N sat patiently awaiting their stop, rising up to exit when it was finally time to get off. Nearly forgetting to wake Mina’s sleeping form, she shuddered at the memory of Mina chasing her around the neighborhood when she first forgot about her friend. 

She dragged the tired pinkette by the blouse and up the stairs, Y/N groans at the sudden change in lighting, covering her eyes with her right hand. Using her left hand to drag Mina. “Eager to see Bakugou, I see.” Mina teases causing Y/N to simply roll her eyes, “If he’d pay attention to me today.” 

“Well you never know, today might be your lucky day.” 

“I hope.” 

***

“Okay class, today we’re going to be learning..” 

Mr. Aizawa’s words drown out in Y/N’s mind as she continued to stare at the blonde in front of her, admiring his spiky locks and the way he tapped his pencil against his notebook. 

“Y/N are you pay attention?” Mr. Aizawa asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Y-Yes, sorry.” 

Aizawa nods and continues on with his lesson. 

Y/N sighs, grabbing her pencil to take notes, jotting down the common hero do’s and don’t. Something Y/N assumed he put together the night before. 

Her attention is suddenly caught by a small note thrown onto her desk from the boy in front of her, ‘That’s odd Bakugou never passes notes..’

The square note obviously ripped from the spare sheets of paper, she’s hesitant to open the note, terrified of the embarrassment that would come soaring over Y/N if it wasn’t meant for her. But the hard gaze Bakugou sent her way, mouthing out the words, “Open it, damn it.” She quickly fiddles her fingers over the note, scrambling to open it under her desk. 

What’s your quirk?

Her heart is pounding as she quickly writes her quirk on the sheet of paper, passing it towards him. Ignoring the slight pain her heart felt knowing that he didn’t pay attention to her quirks power either. What kinda of question is that?

Weather, why?

He passes another back just as quick.

I don’t know, I saw you in the games the other month. 

So he did notice her, Y/N shakes the thought focusing on the task at hand. He did pay attention to her. 

It’s a meteorology quirk, I can manifest any season and forecast.  

Y/N watches as Bakugou, stares at the square for a while. Nearly impressed with her quirk. He didn’t pass another note back until the end of class when he whipped his head around, and threw another square at her desk.

“That’s a nice quirk.”

They were simple words, four words to be exact. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary yet for Y/N. It was special, and that note sat in her book bag for the rest of week before finding itself a spot on her desk.

Slowly, gradually the two began to speak.

Then later she found herself sitting with his group and Mina during lunch, which later progressed with him tutoring Y/N after school.

Y/N sighed in relief when he began to finally pay attention, showing just slight caring from time to time. She smiled to herself in bed, maybe Mina’s aunt really did help. Nevertheless, she was happy with the attention of her crush. 

Nothing came out of their friendship that year, instead Y/N focused on getting closer to the spiky explosive quirk user. She’d normally watch movies with the group in the afternoons when they all initially first moved into the dorms. 

Sero would casually tease the two from time to time explaining how they looked so much like a couple beside one another. Earning a projectile pillow thrown towards his face from the blonde himself, muttering to himself in the process. 

***

Bakugou asked Y/N out on an official date just before their second year, who she of course said yes too. Though Y/N quickly found out the.. problems dating Katsuki. He was possessive, irrational in some aspects, and over all over bearing. 

But the problem wasn’t Bakugou himself during the relationship.. but as the two grew up Y/N soon realized her crush on Bakugou was just that. 

A crush..

***

Years had passed..

And Y/N and Katsuki had moved in with each other in their early years of being pro heroes. 

Y/N’s chest swells with guilt, and her voice is caught in a worried toned. She picks at her fingers, attempting to put the pieces together in her mind on the best way to break things off with Katsuki. She’s caught pacing her living room area, and his vermilion eyes squint at her shadowy frame.

“What are you doing up so early?” 

His asks in confusion; looking out into the city through their window. Y/N didn’t even noticed she still hasn’t gone to bed, he arches a brow - stepping towards her with his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Something wro-”

“I think we should break up.” 

It’s quiet. 

Almost to quiet. 

And for a second Y/N feels like she can breathe, a word of apologizes filled her brain but she decides against it. She wasn’t sorry, they were both twenty four. The relationship had come to an end, there was no more time to think. 

“Look, Katsuki, I’m so sorry but we can’t keep going. Thank you for being so amazing to me throughout the years, and being all my firsts-” 

“We’re not breaking up.” 

“W-What?”

“I said, we are not breaking up.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. His large strides make it towards her trembling frame. “Katsuki..” 

He reaches out towards her, roughly grabbing her but the chin and pulling her in close. Causing Y/N to squeal as she’s tugged towards him. 

“You’re not leaving me..” He clenches his teeth, “You’re not leaving this house, and if you do decide to leave..”

Y/N’s blood grows cold, somewhere in his eyes those red fiery orbs flare in anger, something Y/N doesn’t recognize but she suddenly remembers that night on Halloween when she was just sixteen.

“They become super obsessed..” 

“Sometimes you can’t even break up with them..” 

A mistake.. she made.. she realizes there is no turning back.. she’s stuck with him forever.

“I’ll go everywhere you go..” 

TAGLIST:  @pavlovs-titties​​ @explosivefireworks​​ @utopiamiroh​​ @hikaru-mikazuki​​ @strangethingsatthecirclek​​ @myheroesaretired​​ @clever-username96​  dumbthingsuwusblog

Next: Todoroki x Reader - Tonight, you belong to me 

[angstyclowns]

Yo! So I just finished reading the Class 1A x Hidden Omega Reader, and I'm obsessed! Can I request some more of that? Like how the student characters specifically react and how they handle it, and of course more Dadzawa

Alrighty! Let’s do this!

VV SLIGHT MANGA SPOILERS VVV

This also got kind of long so I put a cut!

Class 1-A x Hidden! Omega! Reader!

Class 1-A. The a stands for angels

So, let’s go back to the previous point for a hot second and re-touch on some stuff I said there. 

Midoriya. 

Izuku ‘cinnamon roll’ Midoriya can be one scary motherfucker. Alright? 

With one for all down, and the new discovery of black whip, he could make fucking All might wet himself. 

Alrigh? This alpha knows what it’s like to be bullied because of things out of your control and he abso-fucking-lutely doesn’t stand for this shit. 

And the worst part of this all is no one expects him. 

Midoriya? You mean the kid that walked into the door then apologized to it? 

That quickly turns into-

Midoriya? You mean that alpha that nearly tore out someone’s throat when they laughed at you?

Like he can be scary. 

The same thing goes to Eijirou ‘Sunshine shark’ Kirishima

He rarely uses not only his alpha status but his intimidating features when dealing with people. 

But when it comes to you?

Baby shark -> Daddy shark REAL FUCKING QUICK

His teeth are snarling and glimmering in the light as whoever’s bugging you slowly backs away 

Again, it’s worse than people like Bakugo and Todoroki because no one expects them. 

Sunshine and lollipops aren’t expected to burn you when you least expect it. 

When they’re with you though, it’s like it all turns around. They’re purring, laughing, scenting, everything. They  even have snacks in their bags for a moments notice. 

Todoroki and Bakugo and the next on the list of to-be-feared.

Their outrageously protective, but what sets them away from the other two is that their outright with their protectiveness. 

Todoroki didn’t originally get the feeling his alpha was yelling at him about, but when he overheard you explaining to Midoriya and Kirishima about how it’s natural for their alpha’s to feel protective over you 

Bakugo refuses to admit he’s protective over you. 

But he is. Everyone sees it. Everyone sees the omega-special meals he pre-preps for you for lunch. They see him scenting a sweater for your nest ever other week without a complaint.  They see it all. 

He has come to accept the role as your personal chef albeit with mumbled grumbles. 

 Now, Let’s move on to the other students. 

Aoyama is your personal designer, alright? alright. Like he’s constantly designing you new outfits and gifting you new shirts, jackets, pants, socks, undergarments

Okay- that sounds weird I know. But Aoyama means nothing but good things. He asked you beforehand and explained that if he custom makes them it’s a win-win. He gets practice and you get things that fit like their supposed to. 

And you swear, he has a second quirk that allows him to make the comfiest bras. And not just sports bras, all bras. Like classy black and lacey ones that make everything look good or spicy red ones that make you preen with pride when you look at yourself in the meeting.  And he’s living for doing this for you. 

Mina is also one of your go to fashion people. she picks out outfits and finds amazing fits for your figure. 

Between her and Aoyama your like a mini fashion show everyday. 

She, like aizawa, has an app that tracks your heats, so she knows when they come before you do. 

Tsuyu is your level headed friend that keeps your bursting out in sobs when frustrations come to a new head. She’s one of the few allowed in your nest without having to ask before hand. 

Tenya! Tenya Iida also has the app! And emergency snacks! And an emergency heat pack both in the dorms and in class. 

He’s also firm in making sure bigots can’t get near you, but sometimes he’s stuck with the rules and unable to do anything. 

People like Koda, Ojiro, Fumikage, Sato and Shoji are always down to comfort you with hugs and cuddles when you feel overwhelmed.

And Shoji hugs are best hugs- change my mind. 

Hagakure, Ochako and Momo have snacks hidden everywhere for you. 

And blankets. 

Momo, Todoroki and Iida are constantly buying new blankets for your nest. 

Ochako hums you to sleep in her arms on nights you can’t sleep. 

Jiro also sings you to sleep.  She’s also allowed in your nest without asking. 

The rocker girl makes it her priority to teach you any instrument of your choice and she’s super  patient with you. 

Kaminari and Sero are the first people to tickle you into crying pleas of mercy and giggles when your upset. These two are the alphas  that will drop everything to make you feel better. 

Honestly, you’ve lost count how many times you’ve been sandwiched between them on Sero’s hammock, watching Disney+ on a television sitting on a table a little ways away. 

Dadzawa is also high on the to-be-feared list. Alright? 

Like he has rules. 

No talking to alphas that you don’t know. 

No talking to anyone you don’t know. 

No venturing off just because something is shiny. 

No- 

The list goes on. 

Aizawa gives you his personal number-- along with the rest of the class-- so you always have a way to contact him. 

He saves you under ‘Favorite child’ but no one needs to know about that. 

Mic knows. Mic also has you saved under favorite child. He’s not shy about that like Aizawa is.

Aizawa always stands next to you when the class goes somewhere. 

when you guys went to the museum he was forced to purchase a backpack with a leash. 

Whenever you guys go somewhere, he has one of the alphas in class hold the leash. 

Its most, of the time, Shoji or Iida. 

Todoroki used to be there, but after buying out half a gift shop using Endeav-whores credit card....

Yeah, Aizawa can’t trust him anymore. He needs someone who will be firm with you and keep you on track. 

He’s the definition of papa bear tbh. 

Like ever wonder why I haven’t mention M*neta in this post?

Mineta once stole one of your custom made sets from Aoyama. 

You had cried, not because you were upset but because you thought you lost them. 

Aoyama explained that he knew you didn’t loose them because he was there when you put them away.

A few alphas put the pieces together but none were as angry as Aizawa. 

You still shiver thinking of the angry rage he expressed. 

M*neta was expelled that day. 

Moral of the story, class 1-A loves you.

And you love them!

[heythrrdelilah]

Pie Lady (Dean x Reader, Holiday)

Request: anonymous asked: For the holiday prompts, I'd like "-You’re a local baker that your love interest comes to every day just to see you. You wonder why this random person eats so many sweets so quickly." with Dean please and thank you! Maybe the reader specializes in pies that would fit better 😁

A/N: of course! I honestly was thinking pie with Dean on that one too. Great minds think alike!  Also,  a reminder to everyone,  you can request an already requested prompt with a different lead because it changes for each person. This is a perfect example of that,  thank you. 💕 Dean can really put down some pie. Meanwhile, I make brownies for everyone but get sugar sickness just looking at them haha. I hope you enjoy! How are you liking the aesthetic gifs? Personally i’m obsessed with aesthetics and food aesthetics at that (i have a whole insta based on short stories based on aesthetics and a weheartit haha ) 

Word Count:  1,418

Warnings/tags: Fluff, hallmark level cheese (a reoccurring theme this season), flirtatiousness, annoyed Sam, possibly a sugar overdose

Pairing: Dean x Reader,  Sam is mentioned. 

The smell of pumpkin-filled your nostrils the minute you walked into your bakery. You and your best friend had owned this tiny shop downtown for almost a year now and you were thriving. The Millenials loved your take on different sweets. Your best friend, Miley,  had no specialty,  however you specialized in pies. Sure,  you could bake other treats just as well,  but you enjoyed experimenting with pie most. 

You placed your bag on the desk in the back,  walked into the kitchen and threw on your apron. Miley, had her hair tossed in a blonde bun, was mixing a sauce intensely on the stove with her whisk. Her sleeves were pulled halfway up her arm. It was no shock to you that she had arrived earlier than you, as this happens more often than not. You enjoyed getting at least seven hours of sleep every night, while Miley barely slept. “Finally making those pumpkin pie rolls, huh?” You asked, walking up behind her. It was six in the morning, which meant that the people on their way to their jobs were soon to come in for their morning baked goods. This meant you had 50 salted-caramel muffins to make. They have been a big hit from the beginning of the season. “Listen, I know there are already pumpkin spice, cinnamon rolls, but there is a difference between pumpkin spice and pumpkin pie rolls. Believe me. I’m making 15 before we open to test them out. Only 13 people will get them and see how they do. The last two are for us,” She beamed, putting the whisk down. She pulled the oven open and precisely placed the glaze on top of the delicious smelling pumpkin rolls before closing the doors again. You began making your muffins and moved on to a batch of pecan-caramel pies. 

All of the projects were finished just in time for opening. Just as expected, when you unlocked the glass door, there were a good amount of people waiting in the cold air. You held the door open for them, kindly welcoming them in, before running to the counter to take orders.You took orders quickly, feeling a bit relieved on the last person currently in line. Usually, the store went through rushes but was slow the majority of the day. The man stood before you, a green jacket, grey shirt underneath, with blue jeans and workers boots. The t-shirt was tight against his pecks, leaving you a little flustered that you even noticed. His facial features were chiseled and made your heart skip a beat for a slight second.  He smiled warmly at you before looking around the glass displays. “Pecan Carmel? I’ll have one,” He smiled up at you, pulling out a wallet. “One slice, anything else?” He scrunched his thin brows at you, tilting his head in confusion before shaking it, “No… one pie. Maybe a coffee too. That's all.” He smiled, wiping his card after you rang the order up. You moved behind the display and pulled out the pie, placing it in a catering tin. You poured the coffee and motioned to the tables, “Here is your pie, darlin’, along with your coffee. The forks and coffee necessities are on the tables as well.” Where had the southern accent come from? Sure, you were around southern accents all day, but it wasn’t like you. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed. “Actually, One more thing, if you don’t mind. What’s your name?” His eyes twinkled in the sunlight coming from the side of the building. “(Y/N). Yours?” He introduced himself as Dean before sitting at the table with his food. 

That would be the last time you saw Dean for that day. 

The next morning was like any other, you came in, got to work, and stood at the register, rotating with Miley. Her pumpkin rolls were a hit yesterday and people were begging for more. So this morning, you helped her bake those, and then your blueberry-ginger-lemon pie before handling the morning rush. Dean showed up today, he must have been new in town. “Dean? Right?” You asked, smiling up at him. He nodded, “(Y/N), nice to see you again. I noticed Caramelized-pecan was not a menu item today, what kind of pie do you have for me?” He smirked over the counter. You nod once, smiling then walking over to the display. “I have blueberry lemon ginger,” You motioned. His brows raised, “you come up with these recipes?” He asked, watching you place a whole pie into the box. He was basically drooling, which was a compliment for you. “Yup. Lemon Ginger Blueberry pie was already a flavor but I add a glaze and my own measurements and recipe to the flavor. I hope you enjoy it,” You smiled as he dropped a 20 dollar bill into the tip jar after paying. It was an extremely expensive tip for the 15 dollar pie. You reached your hand in to return it, when you saw a rolled-up paper there. Dean was sitting at the same table he had yesterday before you could have a chance to return the tip. You opened the paper. “Keep it. Call me, (y/n)?” Miley’s voice laughed from behind your shoulder. You slightly kicked your foot at her as if telling her to shut up. “The tall glass of hot over there?” She nudged her head slightly to Dean. You nodded, blushing before going back to the kitchen. You began baking a chocolate cranberry pie for the dinner rush. 

The next day, you decided to make an extra pie just in case Dean showed up again, so you wouldn’t be a pie short. Who eats that much pie in the morning and still looks like… well… that? You weren’t complaining though. It just meant every day you could see Dean. You decided eggnog pie was the best option for today. Something unique. You walked up to the counter, taking everyone's orders and sure enough, Dean was standing there in line, with someone today. The other man he was with was tall and had his face stuck in a newspaper. Maybe this extra pie would still manage to make the count off with a new guy. “Hello gorgeous,” Dean placed an elbow on the counter in a smooth, flirtatious manner. The taller man rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry about my brother.” So the mystery was solved. Brothers. You shook your head at the tall guy, “I’m not. I figured you would be coming so I made an extra pie just for you. On the house. Well, not technically because you paid for it with your tip yesterday. Way too generous by the way.” Dean smirked at you and the taller brother walked away, sitting at a table. “Well, you might just be my dream woman,” He smirks as you place a pie into the usual cardboard. You blush and push the box towards him. “Is that why you have come in here every day?” You were only joking, but his slight change in posture seemed to say you hit the truth. “Yes, actually. Also, my love for pie, which yours are the best i’ve ever had. I mean, did you see the number?” He tilted the empty tip jar slightly, smirking at the sight of its emptiness. “Looks like you have. Well, look, I’m in town for a short time. I travel for work. We will probably be here a while so… i want to get to know you,” He smiled a dorky but cute smile. You looked up to the ceiling as if you even had to think about getting to know someone This good looking and charming. “Well, we close the bakery on Sundays, so tomorrow i’m free,” You finally responded cheekily. You searched his expression for any clue on what he was about to say. 

“Sounds great. If you bring pie i might just have to marry you,” He laughed. You spent a while talking to him out front, finding out he is a detective, travels with his brother/partner. He sounded like a dream. You two seemed to get along well, a great way to spend a winter. This is the loneliest time of the year for you. Seeing all of the couples walking in, talking about whose house they'll go to for Christmas, where they put that favorite ornament, or what gifts they’ll get their significant others, you knew that you just met this guy,  but at least you won't feel as lonely.

Return to Dean Winchester Works

Return to Masterlist

[formerlyrunephoenix6769]

When you thinking about it, Hogwarts Mystery , you and your buddies have quite tragic backstories. 

Parents are imprisoned in Azkaban, she misses them both, clearly thinks she doesnt have any real friends and has no other family to go to, (Christmas mission) Like yourself, spends the holidays at Hogwarts, and yet none of her ‘friends’ offered to stay behind... (If you were kind enough you got her a song book for christmas or at least offered her to join you and the Weasley family, Molly graciously proclaims she is welcome anytime at The Burrow.) 

Offer this lonely girl an out so she’s not forced to pull a Malfoy later in life.

Comes from a tense household, Parents fight and argue constantly, which upsets him. As by one of his numerous comments in the Christmas library mission, “Please stop fighting, it reminds me of home.”  (or something to that effect.)

Spending time with you helps him forget about his parents. His Uncle is as Dumb as a bag of rocks, claims Barnaby is the smartest in the family. This speaks volumes on how dumb the rest of his family must be. His parents are followers of You Know Who, prolly too dumb to be given any job of importance resulting in imprisonment in Azkaban, unlike Merula’s parents. 

This Cinnamon Roll can be saved or at least helped be directed not to make the decision to join Voldemort’s uprising in a decades time.

side note. He has a crush on Rowan, and its too cute. He has implied it a few times how much he likes her and spending time with her. That she helps him study.

Witnessed a vicious Werewolf attack on a close friend when she was young. Sister trapped in a portrait. Has on two occasions attempted to self medicate through potions, in order to deal with said traumas. 

Watch this girl, in later life she might end up in St Mungo’s due to a potion overdose. Someone needs to get P.A.R.E into Hogwarts to warn kids the danger of ‘potions.’

(Hopefully you can date her, and in true Hogwart’s fashion of marrying your high school sweetheart , you can both work towards avoiding that, with LOTS of therapy.)

I dont think I need to explain this... But baring the brunt of Rakepick choosing her constantly for you and your friends to practice spells on, and to be ridiculed after, cant do much for this teenage girl’s self esteem and only serves to further isolate her. 

Death Eater in the making. 

Ben.. Oh Ben.. Bless you, you scaredy cat.  

Of all people, choosing this guy to use and abuse and do your dirty work was a low blow on R’s part. As if he isnt insecure enough. Definatley a candidate for the Confundus Charm later in life. 

Will prolly end up in Azkaban through no fault of his own, unless he  hones his god given talent for Charms. 

This little trouble maker is on a Mundungus Fletcher career path. If he doesnt get caught breaking a number of magical statutes, he more than likely will get caught smuggling something. Could be a very important ally to the resistance as an Adult, if he’s not already warming a cell.

 This guy is that smooth and cheeky that he could probably sell a time share to Dementors. and Air bnb Azkaban to Muggles. 

You. Jacob’s Sibling. 

The tragic disappearance of your sibling has deeply scarred you, to the point that finding him has become an obsession. Driving you to succeed in your studies and engage in ‘questionable’ behaviour. You have broken many rules that would more than likely get most students killed or worse, expelled, and have put your friends in danger. 

 You have yet to sit your OWLS and are already on the radar of the Ministry of Magic. You are also known to some quite nefarious people. 

Your mother has for all intents and purposes, abandoned you, choosing instead to spend the holidays in America. There is no mention of your father, (as of yet) , However it is safe to say he is not in the picture due to you having to spend the holidays at Hogwarts, also suggesting that you dont have other family either or they want nothing to do with you. 

However, on the bright side, you have good friends and have been adopted as an honorary Weasley, so there is hope for you yet. You are also rich enough to have a vault of your own in Gringotts, much to Jae’s awe and slight jealousy. 

Rakepick made good on her offer to get Bill a job as a cursebreaker so maybe she’ll make good on her offer to you too. 

If you dont die first trying to find your brother. 

Note to self.. Spend more quality time with Rowan. They are obviously missing you!

Left Hogwarts a prefect, and at the tender age of 18 has already spent a stint in Azkaban.. 

JANE, WHAT DID YOU DO?? 

[thisisemilysfault]

Tybalt has Daddy Issues(tm)

Hello, all 5 people who read this blog. We have officially reached the stage of isolation for my Shakespeare Hot Takes, for which I apologize. I have done zero research for this, aside from reading the play in 4-6 classes every school year for the past 16 years, but who cares, in this, our plague year? Shakespeare certainly rarely seems to have bothered, and if unfounded assumptions are good enough for William, who are we to gainsay them?

So let’s talk about everyone’s favorite second-favorite probably at least third-favorite melodramatic trashfire of a boy in Romeo and Juliet: Tybalt. What do we know about him?

Well, in the order that we learn them:

1. He hates the Montagues and the idea of peace, and especially wants to stab poor Benvolio, hapless Cinnamon Roll, IN THE FACE. What you might call, if you were down with humor theory, a choleric dude (I.i)

2. He can recognize Romeo, a guy who mostly ignores the feud, by his voice, which implies that either all the Montagues have the same peculiarity of speech or that Tybalt is high-key obsessed with being able to find the right people to stab in a dark room or similar (I.v)

3. He is 100% down to stab Romeo in the middle of a party THE SAME DAY that Tybalt was threatened with death if he ever fought in public again, even though Romeo wasn’t really doing anything at the time. Tybalt wants to be tough and avenge the perceived slight to the Capulet family honor, and he has to be threatened with injury or death by the head of that family before he will back down. Even still, he vows revenge in a very “I’ll get you, pretty, and your little dog, too” sort of way (also I.v) 

4. So the next day, he sends Romeo a challenge to a duel (which Romeo never even sees, because he never goes home after the first day; no wonder his poor mother had a heart attack) despite both the Prince and Lord Capulet telling him not to fight, and in Lord Capulet’s case, specifically not to fight Romeo (II.iv)

5. According to Mecutio (an admittedly biased source), Tybalt duels frequently, because it is fashionable (Oh, hello, cheap joke about how stupid all French things are to please the English audience). He is dangerous, but only has a memorized set of moves, not “the true virtuoso spirit” (II.iv, and yes, the last one is quoting Poe, I’m weak)

6. When Romeo doesn’t reply by that afternoon, Tybalt rounds up a bunch of his friends and goes looking for Romeo’s friends, whom he approaches pretty politely, seeing as he tried to kill Benvolio yesterday morning. So he can control his temper, he just...doesn’t wanna (III.i)

7. The Stabbing: On purpose or nah? Depends on the director and the production, but I like it more when it’s an accident. Textually, Benvolio later says it was on purpose, but his reporting of events is only about 70-80% accurate in that monologue, so... Anyway, Tybalt runs away from a crime scene, which at least shows some self-preservation. But then... (III.i)

8....he runs back (possibly fleeing the citizens who show up later). Turns out Romeo is a better fighter than Tybalt. (III.i)

9. AND THEN, we find out Tybalt is Lady Capulet’s brother’s son, which means HE’S NOT EVEN REALLY A CAPULET (or, horrific idea I’m only just now considering, Lord Capulet married his 13 year old Capulet cousin, which is gross, but not outside of the realm of possibility) (III.i)

10. Tybalt gets buried in the Capulet crypt, which is either an honor for how he dies, indication that he was a ward of the Capulets, or a piece of supporting evidence for the incestuous Lord and Lady Capulet scenario oh God I hate my brain (IV.iii)

REGARDLESS. Tybalt has every reason not to be involved in the feud (not even his blood relation, persons of authority in the town and his family telling him to stop, evidence that Romeo is closely connected to a relative of the ruler of the city, not real provocation), so why does he go so much harder at it than literally anyone else in the play? It could just be that he likes fighting, but he does make an effort to avoid fighting Mercutio at first, and only draws his sword after Mercutio threatens him, so that’s not all of it.

My conclusion: Tybalt is desperate for Lord Capulet’s approval and to prove himself a “real” Capulet, so he is touchier about the family honor than any other Capulet we see. Sure, the Capulet servants will pick fights, and the Capulet guards would 100% kill Romeo if they knew he was making eyes at the boss’s daughter from directly under her window, and Lady Capulet will demand Hammurabi-style vengeance, but no one else is memorizing what all the Montagues sound like, just in case. All Tybalt wants is to impress his father figure, since evidently his real father is absent, dead, or so much of a nonentity that there’s no honor to be gained in associating with him.

Thus, Daddy Issues.

[gjnnypotter]

Opinion on Harry Potter (the character)

Oh where to start?

I love my boy Harry with all of my heart and more. Honestly- I adore everything about him. I will compose a list of all the reasons as to why I love him just to make it clearer (and to try and sway any Harry-haters out there).

1. He’s the kindest, bravest and the most caring little cinnamon roll to ever walk the earth. “And why is that?” I hear you ask. Well I shall tell you why that is. Harry Potter always, always takes other people’s feelings into account, and never has he ever put himself before anyone else. Hell, he had only just met Ron Weasley and he immediately reassured him that not having much money wasn’t a bad thing, then he went on to stand up for him in front of Malfoy when he basically said that Ron was nothing more than the dirt he wiped off of his robes - and listen here ya’ll because that’s only in like one or two chapters of the very first book in the series. To continue - Harry’s first concern after hearing that a troll was in the castle was that Hermione Granger (a girl who, at the time, Harry wasn’t too fond of) had no idea of the danger that she could be facing and that she could be in trouble. He hyped up Neville when he felt self-conscious (“You’re worth twelve of Malfoy!”). He went down a trapdoor and faced Lord-bloody-Voldemort by himself when he was only 11 years old because he didn’t want the Philosophers Stone to fall into the wrong hands and he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. When he was 12, he went down into the Chamber of fucking Secrets to save his best friends little sister knowing full well that a murderous Basilisk was roaming around. He went straight to Ginny to make sure she was ok even after he was stabbed by the fang and was dying - because he wanted to guarantee that she was alive and well as fast as he possibly could. When Harry was 13 and he believed that Sirius was a mass-murderer who was out to kill him - he tried his best to defend Ron and Hermione from Sirius. Then he fought off a swarm of dementors (fucking dementors, the thing he feared the most) to try and save Sirius and Hermione. At 14 he was entered into the Triwizard Tournament - a contest that people had died in - and he faced its challenges head on. Before the Second Task when he was originally planning on pulling out - he ran straight into that bloody lake without a clue if the gillyweed he was given would work because his only focus was on saving Ron. Then he went on to sacrifice the win in order to save Gabrielle Delacour too. In the graveyard when he was being tortured (tortured) by Voldemort, he still risked his life to bring Cedric’s body back to his parents. My precious boy even went on to give the 1000 galleon prize to Fred and George so that they could fund their joke merchandise. When Harry was 15 and was being ridiculed by the shitting Ministry of Magic and almost all of the Wizarding World, he helped to teach his classmates defence so that they would be prepared and maybe, just maybe, not have to go through what he went through. When he believed that his only father figure was being tortured he dropped everything to try and save him (I know how that ended, but his heart was in the right place guys).

And that’s just a few snippets from his first 5 years at Hogwarts everyone - I’m just getting started.

In his sixth year, he didn’t act on his feelings for Ginny in order to put Ron’s feelings before his own and because Ginny seemed happy with Dean and he didn’t want to ruin that for her. My babe went from everyone mistrusting him the year before, to everyone clamouring for his attention in the snap of the fingers and he took it all in his stride. Before leaving on the Horcrux hunt - he gave his friends what was left of his Liquid Luck potion because he wanted, no, needed them to be safe. Then after being made to make and watch his mentor suffer due to the potion in the cave, he witnessed Dumbledore due right in front of his eyes - yet his immediate response was to try and catch Snape because no one else could die because of him. And just after he allowed himself to be happy with Ginny - he broke up with her to try his damnned hardest to protect her because her safety always, always came before his happiness. After Mad-Eye died and the Order all got to the Burrow - Harry’s immediate reaction was that he had to leave so that no one else would become a target. And please bear in mind that he had just faced off with Voldemort again, and his scar was absolutely killing him. He left Bill and Fleur’s wedding as soon as the death eaters arrived so that no one would get hurt due to his interference, and not to mention he went disguised as a Weasley for extra assurance that no one would get hurt because of his presence. When infiltrating the Ministry of bloody Magic that was in the control of Lord bloody Voldemort, Harry still tried his hardest to free as many muggleborns as he could even though that wasn’t the mission. At 17, he was on the run and being hunted down by a genocidal maniac but he still took the mantle of leader even though he didn’t see himself as being worthy of that title. Then after his bestest friend in the whole world walked out on them, his first and foremost concern was Hermione and if she was ok. At Godrics Hollow he prioritised getting Hermione away from the danger unscathed first even though he was in just as much danger as she was. Taking watch was something Harry did more often than not so that Hermione could recuperate and rest, as he saw her needs as greater than his; and when Ron came back and saved Harry’s life and destroyed the locket, Harry didn’t get angry at all - he immediately reassured Ron and hugged him to make him feel better - because as long as Ron was ok, Harry would be fine. Knowing that Ron wasn’t in any state to come up with a plan when Hermione was being tortured- Harry put aside his own feelings of panic and fear so that he could formulate a plan to save them (them being everyone else - if he got out alive too then that was just an added bonus). He cast an unforgivable curse to try and prevent them from being exposed in Gringotts, and he was the first to jump on the back of a fucking dragon (Charlie Weasley is quaking in his boots to this day) in a desperate bid to get his closest friends out of there alive - and yes I’m aware that it’s Hermione who does this first in the movies, but the books are what most people see as canon and are better than the movies lets be real please? At Hogwarts - he casts the cruciatus curse on Amycus Carrow for spitting in Minerva McGonagall’s face, because nobody disrespects McGonagall in front of Harry and gets away with it. He made the decision to save Malfoy and Goyle in the burning Room of Requirement even though he could have died while doing so, because he couldn’t live with anymore deaths on his conscience. Instead of immediately falling to pieces over Fred’s death - he held it together and moved Fred’s body out of the way of harm. He hold the afford to break as he had a job to do. He stayed with Snape as he died even though the man made his school years hell, because nobody deserved to die alone. Then after finding out that he was a horcrux he tried so so bloody hard not to break - he had to finish the job. He put on a brave face for Neville to reassure him (and himself) that everything would be ok.

Harry Potter walked knowingly to his own death at the age of 17. He took a killing curse to save everyone he loved at the age of 17. He sacrificed himself to save the world at the age of 17. He was only fucking 17 when he knew that he had to die for everyone else to stand even a chance at living.

My precious sweetheart then defeated Lord Voldemort and only thought of those he loved while he did so. He didn’t do it for himself - he did it for everyone else.

So that concludes point 1 I guess.

2. He is one of the most humble people ever and I admire him for that. Not once did Harry ever let the fame get to his head. He despised the attention and contrary to popular belief - was never a self obsessed dickhead. Unlike everyone’s favourite DADA professor Gilderoy Lockhart - Harry tried his best to wiggle his way out of situations in which people tried to admire his scar or when people tried to broadcast his achievements. In Order of the Phoenix when the DA meet in the Hogs Head - he even tries to shoot down his own success by stating that he relied heavily on others and that it was all just a matter of luck. We all love a modest boy, let’s be real.

3. Even though he grew up in an abusive household, he still managed to retain great morals. Staying true to himself and sticking to his moral compass is something Harry does throughout the series that makes me admire him. He knows what is right and what is wrong even though it was never really taught to him as he grew up. His impulsive nature and slight temper are a few fallouts from his upbringing, but the fact that he managed to battle through and endure what the Dursley’s threw at him makes him the bravest and most amazing character in my eyes.

4. His generosity levels are off the charts. He’s not a greedy person and as he said in Goblet if Fire, “He would willingly have split all the money in his Gringotts vault with the Weasleys, but he knew they would never take it.” And as I’ve said previously - Harry literally gave Fred and George 1000 galleons to help along their joke merchandise manufacturing - so if you think about it, Weasleys Wizard Wheezes might have never got off the ground without Harry. He grew up with nothing - he knows what it’s like to wear clothes that are too big or to go to bed with an empty stomach - so he tries his damn best throughout the series to try and ensure that nobody else would have to experience what he experienced. Even the little acts of generosity can go a long way. Harry knew how much Ron detested his dress robes, he knew that Ron felt embarrassed having to wear them - so he asked Fred and George to buy Ron some new dress robes with the money he gave them. It’s often the little things that go a long way as well as the big acts of generosity.

5. He holds his friends (and later his family) in great esteem and shows them so much respect. Harry literally sees his friends as his family and that’s something I can personally relate to - but what I love about him is that he shows all of his friends so much bloody respect. Obviously fights do happen and disagreements do occur- those are pretty much inevitable. But Harry would be lost without his friends and he knows that, so he goes to extreme lengths to keep them safe and keep them close to him. I’m quoting the website Mugglenet for this next bit, but this stuck with me when I first read it, “Harry’s happy ending is not to conquer evil, or gain power; his happy ending is to finally have a family.” This. This is Harry’s wish from the beginning of the series - so when he finally gets that wish with Ginny and his kids - he respects and loves the hell out of them. Hermione and Ron would always be his family - but Ginny, James, Albus and Lily were what he had wished for his whole life. (Just saying before anyone blows up at me to try and condradict everything I just said - I don’t consider Cursed Child as canon. It’s pure BS I won’t lie).

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk :)

[welllpthisishappening]

i noticed! i even made up a theory about it and incorporated it into some fic. basically, i think that after 4a, when they had that amazing post-heart-incident kiss, there was ~*magic*~ involved. like, every time they touch, they get a little rush of magic from the true love, and they are just completely obsessed with it and it gives them comfort and hope and confidence, and neither of them are sure how it started and neither of them cares or even mentions it. it's just their thing.

Yes, good. Yes. I love this. And, uh….I’ve been sitting on this because like…this somehow ended with words? I have no idea how long this actually is, but once upon a time I wrote a whole thing with Killian still having some magic post-Dark One’ness and I’m always here for writing post-series canon ridiculousness. 

“Is it a true love thing?”

Regina does not look impressed. She flashes Emma a put-upon look, as if the answer is so incredibly and absurdly obvious that it doesn’t even deserve the question and well….fair.

“I’m going to assume that’s a yes,” Killian mumbles. He leans against Emma’s side, a hint of domesticity and years of experience and they probably should have done something about this before.

He’s been able to feel her magic forever. Well, at least part of forever, but Emma’s kind of selfish about the whole thing and a little greedy and she’s got more than a few suspicions about how it all started and some of those aren’t all that great.

She’s a little worried it’s her fault.

She’s the one who gave him magic, after all. And took it away.

And all that other stuff and—

“It’s fine, Swan,” Killian mutters, already glancing up at her from underneath eyelashes she still finds a little offensive. They’re so long. It’s ridiculous.

“That’s really not fair, at all.”

“And you’re both being very difficult about this,” Regina cuts in, sounding disgusted already, but that may just be because they’ve definitely interrupted her schedule for the day.

It had happened suddenly.

A moment and a flash and the bulb in the street light bursting, a flush of magic that Emma knew, immediately, was not hers.

It made her breath catch and her eyes widen, a flash of terror rattling down her spine. Because she remembers. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t help it. She remembers darkness and words that shattered that tiny bit of tremulous belief she’d been clutching to at the time. She remembers a sword and the way his eyes shifted, an invisible hand around her throat—

“Emma,” he says sharply, twisting around her with hand and hook on either one of his shoulders. She takes a deep breath.

“Not the first time you tried to get my attention, huh?”

Killian shakes his head.

And Regina cannot possibly slump more in her chair.

It’s the same office Emma remembers from the first time she’d set foot in Storybrooke, but there are far more stacks of paperwork everywhere and several boxes piled in a variety of corners. The curtains flutter in the breeze working its way through the open window, a hint of salt air and something else that has only happened since the All-Realm that Emma can’t possibly begin to put a name to.

It’s almost sweet though.

Decidedly magical.

She’s not sure if anyone else has noticed.

“You alright?” Killian asks, and Emma is disappointed to realize she freaked him out. That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing to be freaked out about.

True Love is, presumably involved.

“Are you?”

“Swan, it’s—“

“—Ok, no, no, because—“

“Do I need to be here for this, anymore?” Regina asks archly, and the smell gets stronger. It’s like…cinnamon and sunshine, a warmth to it that Emma swears she can feel moving between her ribs, and—

“Shower gel,” she mumbles.

Regina curses loudly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“How could Killian burst a light bulb on Main Street?”

“You already asked the question,” Regina says, clearly doing her best to keep her voice even. Killian glares at her. “No, no, no, you don’t get to look like that. How long have you been able to feel your wife’s magic? And why didn’t you say anything?”

“That’s not really any of your business, your majesty,” he drawls, arm moving back around Emma’s middle in a way that’s equal parts possessive and the nicest part of her day. Every day.

For, like, years.

He’s still very determined to occupy the same few inches she is.

“Fair,” Regina concedes with a wave of both hands and her phone is gong to explode. They definitely messed up that meeting with Camelot. “But, uh—well, we probably could have expected this if I had known that.”

Emma narrows her eyes at that. “How do you figure?”

“Was True Love not enough of an explanation?”

“Try again.”

Regina clicks her tongue, but she looks almost understanding. That’s got to be a step in the right direction. “Ok, so, once upon a time—“

“—Bloody hell,” Killian grumbles.

“That was almost funny!”

“Do you not have a meeting we’re ruining for you?”

“I really cannot talk to Guinevere about her border issues anymore.”

“Oh, shit isn’t that an us thing too?” Emma asks, Regina humming in agreement and a complete lack of surprise that that’s the follow up question. “Did I know about that?”

“Mulan is taking care of it,” Killian answers, and they’re getting distracted by bureaucracy. His arm hasn’t moved. If anything, his fingers are fluttering, tracing absent-minded patterns on the curve of Emma’s hip and the slight bit of skin that appears when her shirt rides up just the right way. She doesn’t remember curling into his side like this.

Regina looks unsurprised.

“I believe she and Elsa had something to do with Lancelot,” she continues. “There was definitely an email.”

Emma makes a noise, possibly an agreement, but more likely an excuse. “I’ve been kind of distracted.”

“You going to let me explain why I think this is happening, now?”

“You’re certainly taking your time,” Killian grumbles, and Emma can hear his smile when Regina makes a face at him.

“You two have always had True Love. That’s how True Love works. It didn’t just appear with—was there ever a kiss? Rainbows and all that?”

Another noise, not quite frustration because Emma’s pretty certain they deserved a goddamn kiss, but they did get several other versions and—“Killian can speak Greek,” she says, like that’s an explanation. “And you’re face is going to get stuck like that, Regain.”

“Well, you’re not making any sense,” she argues. “Anyway. You were in love. Making eyes. Ignoring the boundaries of personal space.”

Killian’s arm tightens.

“It was always there, Emma,” Regina continues. “Growing, meaning more. And then you gave the pirate magic. A magic you both shared. And it wasn’t good, but you had already shared a different kind of magic.”

“And you think that…what?” Emma asks. “Stuck?”

Regina shrugs. That’s not encouraging. “I think that’s my most educated guess. Good has a way of latching on and clinging.”

“You need a bit more positivity to those words, there,” Killian says, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. He sounds—God, Emma cannot figure out where that smell is coming from.

And she’s an idiot.

“Oh, I’m an idiot,” she mutters, Regina widening her eyes and Killian narrowing his and it makes so much sense. “Ok, ok, so—this is going to be shitty, but do you remember after all that stuff with David’s dad and you had the dream catcher and—“

“—Bloody hell,” Killian gasps.

Regina is just going to slide on the floor at some point. “Will someone tell me what you’re talking about?”

“I was trying to get rid of my memories,” Killian answers, not taking his eyes away from Emma. “But I—I didn’t even think about that, love. It just…magic is instinctual, isn’t it?”

“Mine’s always been.”

“Not necessarily a good thing,” Regina grumbles. “Ok, ok, back track for a second. You’ve had instances of magic before? I hate to repeat myself, but why was that not made more obvious?”

“I didn’t even think of it as magic. It was just…I was desperate and—“

“—Emotional?”

“Terrified,” Killian corrects. “And, then today it was…”

“Hope’s been sick,” Emma whispers, realization clattering around her brain and making her vision a little spotty and her might actually be exploding. Right there. It will inevitably ruin Regina’s drapes. “We’ve been worried about it and I’m—then we got called to some disaster in Wonderland and someone called my name. It wasn’t…there wasn’t really a threat, but—“

“—He was worried,” Regina finishes, half a smile and a possibly a bit of understanding because she’s had her own True Love too and Emma nods.

It’s more confident.

That smell isn’t a smell. It’s magic. Their magic. Collectively. And their lives.

Together.

God, she’s a sap now.

“Well, that’s something isn’t it,” Regina muses. Her smile widens and her phone lights up again, footsteps coming down the hall because they’ve ruined the whole schedule, but True Love conquers all and Henry’s already talking by the time he twists around the open door frame.

“Hey,” he says. He’s got more books in his hands. “Were you guys supposed to be here? I thought that was a Mulan thing. There was an email.”

“So we heard,” Emma murmurs. Killian isn’t more than half a step behind her when she moves, pressing a kiss to Henry’s forehead and he’s grown, he’s a grown man with his own family and his own kid, but he’s still her kid, or their kid and the magic in her flutters in something that may be actual joy. “Regina, we’re not going to deal with the Wonderland nonsense.”

Regina laughs. Unexpected. Nice. “Good. You know, sometimes, True Love is the simplest answer to all of this. Most powerful magic and all that.”

“Articulate.”

“I’ve got a lot of meetings to deal with.”

Emma scoffs, but it’s a bit of relief too and she doesn’t necessarily mean to lean into the hook pressing into her back. Whatever. True Love.

Seriously, whatever.

And she does have every intention of asking more questions, has the dim hope of a quiet conversation and, possibly, fewer clothes than normal, but then the day seems to get away from her and the day is the night and Hope is asleep and Emma may never get used to Killian Jones, fearsome pirate and her True Love, sitting in bed with a book and a t-shirt on.

“What happened to your hair?” she asks, padding back into the room with the taste of toothpaste lingering on her tongue.

Killian doesn’t look away from his book, but his lips definitely twitch. This might be flirting. Emma hopes it’s flirting. She’s got a lot of True Love, magic-type questions. “Aye,” he murmurs, “the little sea monster’s gotten very grabby in the last few days.”

“I think that’s a sign she may like you.”

“Is it, then?”

“Was that not in any of the books?”

That gets him to look up. Emma beams, the tip of her tongue pressing into the corner of her teeth. Definitely flirting. Killian chuckles under his breath, tossing the book on the nightstand and shifting enough that the blankets move with him and the edge of his t-shirt drifts up slightly and—

“Oh, you’re doing that on purpose,” Emma accuses.

“That’s an awfully certain type of suggestion, Swan.”

“And that’s not a disagreement.”

“Ah, well, it’s not wise to automatically agree with the monarchy, you know. There, at the very least, needs to be some banter. Easier to make a deal that way.”

She rolls her eyes, but the butterflies in her stomach aren’t just butterflies and his expression changes again. “Did you feel that?”

“Almost always, love,” he says, voice dropping slightly and they’ve moved, rather abruptly, out of flirting. Straight into feeling. And meaning.

And magic.

Of the unexpected variety.

“You think that runs both ways?”

Killian hums, brows pulling low. The mattress does not seem to appreciate how Emma flops on it, drawing a groan out of her and a laugh out of him and—“God, it’s like a stethoscope, sometimes!”

“You’re speaking in tongues, darling.”

She clicks her tongue, flicking her fingers on his stomach, but that only ends with his fingers wrapped around her wrist and his lips on her knuckles and his hook is freezing. “A stethoscope,” Emma repeats. “Like a doctor. Has a stethoscope and it’s freezing and you are—“

“—Freezing?”

“Not in a way that should be anything except a suggestion to take your shirt off.”

Killian’s laugh rattles out of him, lips moving to the top of Emma’s hair and her temple. He doesn’t move his hook. Or take his shirt off. They’ll get there eventually. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

God, she’s seriously the biggest sap.

“What I’m saying,” Emma starts, burrowing further into his side and his skin is warm. “Is that…if you can feel my magic, maybe that’s a two way street. You know, like, the magical river of True Love.”

“You are genuinely this realm’s worst storyteller, Swan.”

“Ok, well, there’s no need to be insulting.”

Another laugh, but this one is a little more nervous and a hint more cautious and Emma gets that. Totally. Completely. She wants it to worth both ways.

“I know it’s not normal,” she whispers, shaking her head when Killian makes some kind of noise to interrupt. “No, no, I mean—none of our life is normal, but this is exceptionally not normal and I still sometimes wonder if this is all a dream and I’m just—“ She takes a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering and teeth chewing on her lower lip. That makes the next few words more difficult to say. “Impossibly lucky,” Emma mumbles. “With you. And our kids. And this life and I don’t…I don’t want you to think that some stupid True Love thing would ever change any of that. You don’t ever have to cast a spell or do anything, but I guess I just wondered if I could…”

“Feel what I feel?” Killian finishes.

She is not surprised he gets it too.

Perfectly.

Completely.

No matter what.

Emma shrugs. “You don’t have to.”

“There’s no harm in trying, aye?” Killian asks lightly, fingers trailing over the curve of Emma’s elbow. He leaves goosebumps in his wake, a fluttering under her skin that’s been happening for years and isn’t really surprising anymore, something more wonderful and dependable and an even better word than that.

Emma is far too busy melting, though. Straight into the mattress. They need a new mattress anyway. This one shouldn’t creak like it does.

And it takes her a moment – far too much feeling and memories and she’d never felt anything when they were both Dark. She assumes that’s part of the deal. So, this catches her off guard, even after asking for it, but that may be because her eyes have closed again and her she’s not really breathing, but she can hear Killian’s soft exhale and it’s not exactly light.

It’s like…a spark, pulsing in the minimal amount of air between the tips of his finger and the top of her skin, a warmth that seeps into Emma and settles in her core, lights her from the inside out and leaves her own magic roaring in her ears.

“Shit,” she breathes, working another low laugh out of Killian.

“Gods, but you are eloquent.”

“Is that what you feel?”

“Depends on your answer, I suppose, Swan.”

“Like…I just—“ Emma shakes her head, trying to find the words and she’s only a little disappointed that she can’t. “I don’t know, like I swallowed the sun or something. Oh, oh, you know the beach?”

“I am familiar with the beach, yes.”

She sticks her tongue out, but the spark gets stronger and Killian’s lips land on hers with something bordering dangerously close to bruising determination. “I’m serious,” Emma grumbles, tugging on the front of his shirt. “When I was a kid, I was at this house once and—they took us to the beach one day. I think it was mostly so they didn’t have to turn the AC on, but…well, they took us to the beach and it was the first time I’d really seen the ocean and the sun was so—“ Her breath catches, and it isn’t easy to see Killian’s smile when she’s doing her best not to cry.

“It was so warm. And everything smelled like sunshine and sunscreen after. A heat that just kind of…hung in the air. It almost made that van thing they took us in bearable. I feel asleep. I never did that, usually, was always way too paranoid that if I didn’t watch exactly where I was going, they’d ship me somewhere else, but I was so comfortable and so warm and—“ There are tears on her cheeks. “This kind of feels like that.”

He kisses her again.

Bruising. Determined. True Love. And then some.

“I love you,” Killian mumbles, not bothering to pull his lips away from hers and the magic is gone, but she knows it was there and may continue to be there and—“I was worried it wouldn’t be…good,” he adds. “That it was…every time it’s kind of flared, I suppose, it’s been because something has been wrong. Us or the lass, but this is the first time I’ve been able to…focus like that.”

“Damn, that’s romantic.”

“I suppose those are the qualifications of True Love.”

Emma lets out a watery laugh, blinking away more tears. Killian’s thumb does a good job of helping with that. “Yeah, probably,” she agrees. “I love you too.”

“Good. And I’ve got one more theory.”

“About?”

“Regina mentioned that True Love can exist before the participants might be aware of it,” Killian says slowly, and Emma’s always relished that very particular tone of voice. When she can hear him thinking and pondering and it’s usually about her and them and she’s kind of greedy with it. “Well, I was thinking about that before. And you did actually hold my heart in your hand at one point, love.”

Emma blinks. And opens her mouth. And closes it. She blinks again. And her jaw drops. Because she’s gasping. And understanding.

“Oh shit,” she mumbles, another soft laugh and the press of his thumb on her cheek. “I mean—yeah, ok.”

“What is it you’re agreeing to, exactly?”

“Babe, this was your theory! And I’m agreeing to being, you know…I was pretty in love with you at that point. Probably pretty magical too.”

Something about the sun, again.

Killian moves or Emma moves or whatever, more lips and roaming hands, searing touches and something that sounds like several shirt threads ripping. And it’s good and great and True Love, Emma’s hand drifting towards his chest like there are magnets or the exchange of magic.

“You do that a lot, you know,” Killian murmurs later, the jut of his chin pressing into the top of her head and Emma is sure she’s never been this comfortable in her life.

“What?”

“Like you’re making sure it’s still there or something.”

“That was a long time ago,” she mumbles, but she knows he’s right and she absolutely is. Every time. Killian hums, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Oh, don’t sound so smug about it.”

“Was I?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I—I mean that totally happens, but. Ok. Is that a bad thing?”

He slides down, twisting to stare at her and there’s so much there. Too much. Not enough. Everything. “No, love,” he promises. “It’s not.”

There are more kisses. And a shout from the other end of the hall - a shrill daddy and mommy and neither one of them get much sleep, but there are still smiles on their faces the next morning, bags under their eyes and the smell of coffee in the air and Emma feels the spark under her skin as soon as Killian’s fingers graze hers.

[chaehyurae-blog]

Under the Stars

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Plot: You are a writer, sent by the company on a holiday after recently releasing a best-seller. You are sent to France to unwind but you bumped into Sehyoon, a famous kpop artist trying to run away from the paparazzi and his glamorous life.

Under the Stars 1: You are given your holiday and set off to France. Upon your arrival, you went to a cafe and suddenly a stranger hugs you.

~

"Congratulations, y/n!" your boss exclaims as you enter your workplace. "Your book is yet again another best-seller. How do you come up with such amazing stories?"

You smile shyly, "Thank you, sir. It's what I love to do." You try to make your way to your office but your boss stops you.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks with a smile. "As a reward for another best-selling book, the company has decided to give you a holiday! You'll be going to France this weekend." You look at your boss for a full minute before registering what he just said. "Hello? Did you hear me? Youre going to France this weekend. The company shall be paying for your trip."

You give your boss the biggest smile and hug him. "Really? Thank you so much, sir!" He hugs you back and excuses himself.

It’s been 5 years since you entered this company with the same enthusiasm as you have today. You’ve been writing since you started high school and decided to pursue it as a career. As of now, you have released 4 books which have been well known. Although the career is amazing as it is, the downside is you never really get to socialize as much since your job takes all of your time. Maybe coffee time with close friends but like going to bars or having dates is never an opportunity for you.

"I heard somebody is going to France this weekend!" your best friend and co-worker Dani exclaims as she sees you settling in your office. "So finally gonna stir up some romance for yourself?"

You laugh. "You, out of all people, should know Im not in the mood for romance. I will be there for the great coffee, amazing sceneries, cute outfits, and mouth-watering pastries."

"Seriously? No romance at all? You'll be visiting Paris as well, the freaking city of love." Dani said. "Plus, I got you something." She then places a box on your desk.

"Aww, you shouldn't have!" You reply back. You open the box and inside was a small black dress with spaghetti straps--- a little too sexy for your liking. "Youre trying to get me have a boyfriend."

"Oh come on, y/n. You are such a gorgeous person so I know a couple of guys will notice you in that dress. Who knows? It might come in handy." Dani responds with a wink.

"No thank you." You respond immediately.

"Awww, give it a chance. Just bring it! Youre not going to lose anything if you bring that along with you." Dani pleads. You sigh and just nod, putting the black dress in the box. "I knew you'd give in. After all, it is a petite dress! Bonjour mademoiselle!" You laugh at Dani's accent.

"Don't you have any work to do?" You ask.

"Well, I had to give you the dress and congratulate you as well. Plus, remember that kpop group I told you about?" Dani asks. You immediately remembered that these couple of months your best friend has been obsessed with this kpop group named A.C.E.

"Yeah, A.C.E. What about them?" You respond while arranging some files on your desk.

"Well, one of the members, Sehyoon suddenly ran away and it is believed that he is in France. The poor cinnamon bun must be having a holiday." Dani says.

"And that concerns me in what way?" You reply. You actually know the group and you're familiar which each member but you don't have the time like Dani to be as obsessed.

"Y/n! What if you happen to meet him? You totally need to take a picture of him or get his signature!" Dani responds with excitement. "You need to do that for me."

"That is if I find him. The odds are from slim to none. He might be in a fancy hotel for all I know plus he might not want fans finding him since he ran away for a holiday there. The least I want to do is make him think Im gushing over him." You reply.

"You can say it's for me. Please?" Dani pleads.

"Fine, that is if I find him there. Go to work, the boss might find you here." You respond, defeated.

"Yes! I love you, y/n! See you later." Dani responds with a big smile on her face.

Hours past by, you were able to write drafts for your upcoming stories but nothing seemed to be right. You were just probably drained from your last story and more focused on your upcoming holiday this weekend. You stretch and give a sigh of relief. You look at your watch and see that it's already time to go home. You stand up and fix your things then timed out.

On your way home, you stopped by a local chicken place and bought a bucket for yourself. As you enter your house, you sit down and start munching on the chicken you bought.

After eating, you try to take out some clothes and necessities you'll be bringing for your holiday. You check what weather it is currently in France so that you’d have a heads up on what type of clothes you’ll pack. It is currently Spring in France and the it is the best time to travel having a pleasant temperature and a slight chance of raindrop. You take some shirts, pants, shorts, a couple of hats, and the black dress Dani gave. 

****

Fast forward to the weekend, you are currently in the airport. You check your phone for any messages form your company or friends but there seemed to be none. 

“Flight #206 headed for France is ready. Passengers please go to your designated terminal.Thank you.“ the announcer suddenly says. You see some people heading towards the same terminal as you.

As you settle in your seat, you take out your writing notebook. It is a notebook where you write drafts or prompts you have for your next stories. Although the notebook is right in from of you, no ideas come out of you and you just decide to set your notebook aside.

You decide to close your eyes and sleep for the rest of the trip.

****

“Madam?” you hear a faint voice whilst feeling someone shake you.”We have arrived in France.”

You jolt up but still feel sleepy. You give the stewardess a faint smile and mouth a ‘thank you’ to her which she responded with a smile as well. You rub your head and stretch before standing up and seeing that half of the passengers are taking their bags. 

Getting out of the airport seemed fast and you suddenly had a craving for some pastry and coffee. You ask a local which is the nearest cafe to head to and they (thankfully) understood what you meant. You thank them before settling in a cab and telling them the name of the nearby cafe.The cafe was named ‘étoile’ which meant star which you find quite weird for a cafe name.

In 20 minutes, you arrived at the said cafe and saw how beautiful the structure was. The name of the cafe was on a sign written in neat calligraphy. The cafe had plants around and the vibe of the place was comfy. You enter the cafe making a little bell noise and the person in the cashier sees you.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle!” she cheerfully greets. ”Est-ce que tu parles français?”

“Uh...” You understood that the idea she was trying to portray was do you understand french. “No, I speak english.” 

“Ah, you’re a foreigner. Welcome to Cafe étoile, do not worry. I can speak and understand english.” she greets. “Im Antoinette.”

“I’m y/n. Thank god you speak english.” you respond while looking around.

“I understand that feeling. I used to be like you when I first arrived here but when I met my husband, I was able to understand and appreciate the language more.” she responds. “What would you like? I can guide you through the menu. My husband makes the drinks and food here.”

Antoinette looked like she was in her late 20′s. She wore her hair in a ponytail and wore a striped long sleeve that complimented her skirt. She had dark brown eyes that complemented her dark brown hair as well. 

“I’d like a croissant and just a brewed coffee.” you reply while getting your wallet form your purse.

“No need, y/n. Its free for you since I can see your luggage and everything. Take it as a welcome gift. I hope you enjoy your trip here in France.” she says. You smile and she returns the smile as well. “I’ll serve your order in 5 minutes.”

“Merci.(thank you)” you reply and go out of the cafe since you seem to like the seats outside. It isn’t as hot outside as it is in your hometown. 

You sit and take out your notebook. Although you’re on holiday, you still think of work because what else is there to think about? Few minutes later, Antoinette comes out and serves you your order which smells incredibly delicious. She heads in afterwards.

You then start drafting some prompts for future stories. France was beautiful with tourists around and you imagined how beautiful it will be if it was night time. As you get lost in your thoughts, you suddenly notice someone running towards the cafe--a boy wearing a hoodie and a mask on their face. ‘He might be an idol but what are the odds? Or maybe just some tourist’

You look at your watch and realize you must head towards your hotel right now. You take one big bite of your croissant and drink of what is remaining in your coffee. As you stand up, a boy suddenly stands in front of you.

“Uh, yes?” you reply to break the awkward silence. ‘He might be a local but he doesnt seem to know the way.’ you thought.

Out of nowhere he hugs you. A plot twist to your seemingly peaceful trip to France. 

[chanzicoup]

Summary: The shyest kid in town meets with the new girl in his family’s bakery. Who knew this would spark a chain reaction?

A/N: This is a sneak peak to a novella I am currently writing. I got the idea for this by watching the movie called “The Longest Ride” and I can not stress this enough, IT IS SUCH A GOOD MOVIE GUYS PLEASE JUST SHUSH AND WATCH IT

Genre: Fluff/Romance

Count: 2.12k

Warning: None

~Blake

He remembers the day she walked into his life, which was coincidentally the day she walked into his family’s bakery for the first time. He was kneading a ball of bread to be portioned and baked later when the yeast has risen. She was gorgeous, but that wasn’t what caught Johnny’s eyes, it was the fact that she held the door open for an elderly woman who was trailing right behind her. Such kindness was not something he had seen in a while outside of his mother and father. He was an only child who was homeschooled from childhood and all throughout high school.

This was the winter before his freshman year at college, his last winter and a senior in high school, and he was spending as much of it as he could at home, he was nervous to start on the first day with all of the other students his age, who were so lucky not to have his fear. It wasn’t much a fear of connection, but a preference of isolation and obsession of personal space, the only people he talks to is his parents and customers who walked in only to walk out minutes later with their order in their hands. His mother, babying her only child since he was such a thing, was negotiated with and was convinced to let him attend a year late, how he got her to agree with his idiotic idea, he didn’t know; but his claim of the bakery needing workers might have sealed the deal. He has a feeling his father would assert his power and force him to go on time any way, better to hope than forfeit.

He was the only one in today, since his parents went out to buy supplies. It had been a slow day, anyone who came in ordered from the window, so their food was already prepared for them to take. Johnny dusted his hands off and went to the register, where the old woman stood with the younger woman behind her. Perhaps they are related?

“Good morning ma'am. How can I help you today?” Johnny asked politely, as he always does. Despite his manners, he spoke softly and the woman hardly heard him but began ordering anyway.

“Two loaves of Italian bread, sonny. And three blueberry muffins, please.” She was a regular at the bakery, she came in at least once a week and ordered the same things and has been since before Johnny was born. She’s called him sonny since day one even when she can read his name tag and see what his name was. She also always had exact change, of course she would if she’s been getting the same things for as long as she has. If her mind is wearing away with age, she certainly doesn’t show it. What she did with all those loaves and muffins, no one knew, but it was no one else’s business. She was a nice woman, but mysterious. She never told anyone at the bakery her name, which was a weird though in his opinion, but he ignored the fact and went along with his day. Johnny had the breads and muffins ready, anticipating her arrival, and even put it in  a tote bag like he did when no one else was looking. Those bags were 99 cents each and his parents would fuss if he saw their son give one away for free.

“Good boy. I’ll be back next week!” She sang and skipped to the door. That woman loves her bread and muffins.

Up next is the pretty girl Johnny suddenly lost the words to talk too. Just now he notices how perfect she is, even with her imperfections. He makes sure not to stare too long and manages to choke out the serviceman’s phrase, “How can I help you today?” He thinks he did it by not staring directly at her. if he did he would hold his gaze into her eyes too strongly and it would make the situation more awkward.

“This may be embarrassing, but I honestly don’t know what I want. I just moved here and I haven’t had any of this before. What would you recommend?” She questioned. Johnny saw that her navy blue petticoat had dusts of snow on her shoulders. He had forgotten it was going to snow badly this week, poor girl is probably freezing. But how could she not know what she wants? Johnny would have his order picked out before he steps foot in an establishment, but if the truth was being told, he’d ask his mother to order for him.

“Welcome to Athol, be careful, if you say that with a lisp you’ll be scolded.” She must’ve liked his joke, because it made her chuckle and roll her eyes. It wasn’t his best dad joke, but something people don’t know about him is that he has quite a lot of them. “I was about to put bread in the oven.” He suggests without action, suddenly feeling dumb.

What if she wasn’t rolling her eyes playfully, but in annoyance? Johnny feels as if he should’ve given her some fresh baked cookies that he made this morning and she would’ve been on her way. Yet the thought of her leaving as fast as she came made Johnny slump his shoulders.

"That sounds nice, thank you very much! Can I wait for it to bake in here? I hate to admit it, but I’m looking for something to do…” she pauses too read his name tag. “John.”

Her lips turned up to a smile as his name rolls off her tongue. No one says his real name but his father. Everyone and his mother say “Johnny” his mom says it sounds cute. His likes it better than “John” it is more relaxed and less demanding sounding. His father’s name is the same, which was why he never called his son by anything else other than “my boy”. It would be a form of self-degradation.

“Would you like a drink?” Johnny questions quietly. The girl, whom he does not know the name of, nods quite cutely. “What is your name?” He does this to all the customers so he can make sure that what they ordered belongs to them and write their names on the cup. Since there is only one he had no need to do that, but he just wanted an excuse to get her name. If he was feeling flamboyant, he’d write his number on the cup as well. Too bad Johnny has never come close to feeling flamboyant in his life.

“I’m Heidi. I just moved here from Shades Run.” She has another quirk Johnny sees, she tucks her hair behind her ear when it’s not in her face. It’s too short to be in the way. Her hair resides just below her ears, flaring up in a slight curl in all of it’s dirty blonde glory. “And I’m going to need another recommendation for the drink.” She acts as if she has reason to be embarrassed, Johnny can hear her talk for hours if she wanted to.

“I was just about to start a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?” He holds two of the bakery’s branded cups, which are small compared to the size of his dough boy hands. Spending your whole life in a bakery takes a toll on your entire body, but most effectively, your hands. It means you’re doing hard work, and hard work means a good spirit.

“Okay, I’ll have one. Thank you!” She says thank you more often than most of the usual customers, maybe she’s still adjusting to her new life? Now that he thought about it, customers expressed their gratitude every so often. Not everyone has enough manners to do so. But whatever the reason is for her abundance of gratefulness, it nonetheless has Johnny turning towards the coffee machine and blushing while biting his lips to hide the giddy grin he’s bursting.

While the cups fill, Johnny hurries to the back and puts risen bread in the industrial oven, setting a timer for twenty minutes as his father taught him. He comes back and sees Heidi reading a book and the coffee pot filled and secured in its’ warmer. He pours them into mugs and adds the cream, a little extra cream for her since she seems like  creamer girl. He puts the finishing touches on, those being the whipped cream and a cinnamon stick. Some people don’t like all the spice, so just in case she was one of those he put her stick to the side so she could add it if she wanted to.

He stands up straight, as if he��s a waiter at a five star restaurant and stacks the cups on a silver tray that’s only used when there’s company. Look at Johnny breaking the rules. He’s no bad boy, this is obvious when he gives her the coffee with cinnamon on the side and he rushes back to the counter, again his heart raced at the thought at sitting with her to sip his own coffee. Instead, he does it while leaning on the counter and glancing at her every few seconds. His confidence washed away like waves on the beach. So close to the castle, but pulled back with the tides at the very last possible moment. Just before the typhoon kills the civilians in their sand houses.

“You can sit here if you’d like. I don’t bite.” She chides after adding her cinnamon stick. Johnny scurries over and sits in front of her, remembering to grab his drink from off the counter. Yes, he had nearly forgotten his drink on his coffee break.

“So, John,” Heidi starts. “What do you do other than work here?”

“There really isn’t much to tell.” Johnny says, nervously tapping his finger and bouncing his knee. He tried to have his knee match the pace of the tics and toks of the clock, but that was too slow for him and only made his anxiety worse with the sudden time crunch/

“Tell me anyway, even if there is genuinely not much to tell.” Heidi puts the book away and rests her head on her hand propped up on her elbow. Where should Johnny start? He told her about being homeschooled, and she asked what it was like.

“It was nice. Staying home and doing whatever I wanted. I had a sweet tutor who taught me at my own speed.”

He then talked about the bakery, as if she hadn’t already known he’d worked there. She asked what it was like.

“Growing up here was a lot. It’s just my parents here, no other workers. I try to help when I can.”

In her head, Heidi was squealing in delight, a handsome baker who adores his family. And he’s such a gentleman and he listens! Finally, she has a friend. She could hear him talk for hours. Hopefully she wasn’t being too pushy. What if he’s cursing her out internally and only entertaining her to be polite? It wouldn’t have been the first time someone acted nice to her only to push her away later on. The sudden urge to peck her lips drove Johnny mad. How could he want to kiss a stranger? In all seriousness, why is he talking so tentatively to said stranger?

“What’s your story?” He sits back and crosses his arms, interested in his newfound friend. Totally not wanting to talk and much rather yearning to listen. He had nothing else to discuss. No one had socialized with him so there weren’t any stories of him being an idiot with the kids down the load and hanging out at Jos’ house on Tuesdays because that was taco night and Mrs. Violet makes the best tacos.

“My story is more of a novella, a lot packed into a short amount of time. My father and I moved here so he could find a better job. My mom left when I was a baby so it was just us. I’m in the middle of my senior year, but since I moved I’m going to be attending Athol High in the middle of the semester.” He never stopped her to tell her to elaborate, or to ask what something was like. He just listened to her stories with a gleam in his eye.

“I’m sorry, I’m talking too much.” She looks down at her lap and pulls her smile into a frown.

“Don’t worry, I love hearing you talk.”

Did he really just say that?

Is she smiling again?

Are they both blushing?

The answer to all of the above is, respectively: Yup, surprisingly, and oh yeah they are.

[monkeydluffy19920]

Chapter 863 review

Wedding crashers are on their way to create a unforgettable day  !

So the mystey of “Luffy clones” is solved (well it wasn’t a mystery because they had Brulee and it would be waste to not to exploit the enemy’s skills but surely Big Mom and wedding guests were surprised). What honestly I didn’t partly expect was that man like Luffy wanted to form a plan but at least we finally found a reason why he was so excited about the “grande entrance”. Usually Luffy is the guy who goes around with his instincts and so on but as we can see, there is also a slight side of strategic-captain.

So the chaos is unleashed and even Big Mom’s biggest dream, the wedding cake is literaly falling apart. Luffy indeed made a impressive entrance that would fit his style :’D I think many of us spotted already that there was one “Luffy” jumping out who looked differently and in the end we find more about that but I wonder did the wedding guests notice that? 

I think this has been already brought up some times but it really was expected that Sanji would save Pudding no matter what and it was even hinted in the chapter title (chivalrous). Personally I don’t think it has nothing to do with romance and it’s more about Sanji’s gentleman-nature not to leave any damsels in distress.

Meanwhile I was writing this review I bumped into a very rude message adressed to my fellow sanami-shipper mate and what I paid attention in that “feedback” was that this other user was trying to say that Sanji is only a pervert. Well I don’t deny his perverted nature at all but it’s kind of sad and that what one of the main themes Oda has highlighted during the whole arc and Sanji’s best traits (Sanji’s kindness) is totally ignored and undeappreciated by some people but again I will repeat myself and tell that we interpret these things differently and this is just one opinion in million seas :d

There are many examples that Sanji is not just a ero kappa with dirty thoughts and this chapter again only proved again that no matter who the damsel is Sanji is ready to save them, even though he would have the chance to leave them behind to suffer. Sanji  has been the knight in shining armor before and my mate @pernanegra​​ summed this up very well in his post here and like he said, Sanji’s chivarly and kindness does not have boundaries when it comes down to ladies and his closest nakamas. 

Oda does not focus on Pudding’s reaction which is a bit odd but also something what kinda makes sense because probably he wants to keep her as a mystery as long as he can. I think this has been mentioned in my previous reviews but it’s odd that despite the fact that Pudding plays a huge role in this whole arc Oda still keeps us unaware about her “real self”. What I mean is that he makes us readers constantly guessing whether she is bad or good (retrieval team meeting her at cafe vs her misleading them vs her being the ray of hope for Sanji vs her going to prison to tell Luffy and Nami that she will shoot Sanji vs her showing her third eye vs her still planning to kill Sanji vs the sudden breakdown in last chapter). Still having some slight hopes that her character would become more interesting than what we saw in last chapter. Again repeating myself that I’m not underestimating her past but Iike said in last review, that feeling of her possibly becoming a damsel in distress would make me feel disappointed because there was so much more potential on her than that and also the gaps in her story confuses but never say never). I think someone actually flashed a suggestion that due her unstable(?) personality she might even develope an obsession to Sanji who turned out to be her “saviour” but again better to read more before guessings. 

It seems like the there are also things shattering inside the Charlotte family because they find out that Opera lied to them to get a chance to run away and I believe this will definitely be a tough cookie for Big Mom who is already going insane because of her cravings and souls are taken (meanwhile some of the guests are like “cool I like dis!” and probably thinking this is for entertaining or something?).  My mate @namibean​​ pointed this already out in her review and I agree that it’s quite a risk to leave Ceasar to be the the only one in Mirror World. He is not a liked character among Straw Hats and he might not be worth to trust. Actually Robin’s warning in Punk Hazard about the risks of pirate alliances could be foreshadowing to this if Ceasar would betray them. He would have good reasons to do this because well he never wanted to be with SH or with BM’s troops either so could see a scenario where he is something like “shurororo, so long suckers !!” but well he can be reliable as well, we don’t know. It actually seems like WCI arc is nothing but a question mark after another and we are constantly trying to igure out how the plot will go and then Oda-sensei goes and does it differently :D 

What I absolutely love in this arc is how much Nami has gotten spotlight in general and also we can see how much she has matured during the time skip, which we have pondered with my mate pernanegra in our Sanami in the New World- series (btw newest part on to do-list, let’s hope I manage to finish it before the arc is already finished :D) . Nami might still be afraid of some things but she is now much more eager to take responsibility and ready to take the lead if needed and we have seen already how much potential Oda has loaded on Nami so I really hope to see her kick some ass with her new weapon \o/  

Capone faced the surprise of his life when Luffy let out the truth so suddenly (but that was expected and who would blame this cinnamon bun for being so honest? xd). So the goal is to smash the picture BM treasures but of course it would be too easy if it just happened so Katakuri interrupts and gets Luffy caught. He foresaw Luffy’s intentions which for some reason the SH weren’t prepared for. His df ability seemed to remind Luffy’s since he kinda can strech and what I am more surprised of was BM’s comment, instead of thanking she just scoled him but well she is twisted. However then comes the badass-combo scenery and boss Jinbe steps into the game. Definitely deserves all the praise because he was the ray of hope for prisoners and in general we can say that his help has been remarkable. Jinbe drops a big bomb and tells that he doesn’t want to be part of BM’s plots so he could later join to Straw Hats. There is no doubt about his loyalty with Luffy but what I am amazed of is that “Momma” isn’t able to take Jinbe’s lifespan and it seems like she is pissed of and we can expect a  epic fight in future ! Elsewhere another badass is making his move, one of the Luffies is accomplishing the mission and breaking the frame of Mother Caramel. I am so glad that also Brook has gotten lots of spotlight in this arc and he has done splendid job during this retrieval mission. It’s good to remind readers that even though Brook is mostly known from his skull jokes and panty questions, that skeleton can rock a block and it’s even needless to say that Luffy has done very excellent choises when he has befriend with different mates.  

What left me wondering was that where on earth are the Vinsmokes? They were so hyped in the beginning f this arc but somehow it feels like they are “left behind”. Of course there was lots of things already in this chapter but I guess Sanji might have gone to their direction. Somehow it would just feel logical but on the other hand wuld they and there is still Pudding who hasn’t made a move so would warning his relatives be too risky? Oh well don’t matter because this is just random pondering and the chapter was a good read and we’ll know more anyways after the next one is out.

[spartanguard]

begrudging birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JENNA!!!! aka @the-jolly-tad-cooper aka @fairytalesandtimetravel aka TOTAL SWEETHEART. I had no idea it was your bday until today but there was no way I could let it go by unnoticed/celebrated, so here’s a quick(ish) fic that may or may not be based on one of your posts today. Hope you had an absolutely wonderful day because you are amazing and deserve it! Love you!

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s tradition, Emma.”

“I don’t care!”

“I’ll buy you a bearclaw.”

“And…?”

Elsa sighed. “And a hot chocolate.”

“With?”

“Cinnamon, duh.”

“Fine.” Angrily, Emma took the pin Elsa was holding and affixed to the pocket on her work-specified button up. “Happy?”

“Yes!” her friend gloated, while Emma pouted in return. “Come on, Emma; it’s the one day a year dedicated to celebrating you. And we love you. Let us.”

In all honesty, Emma kind of hated her birthday. Growing up, it was just another reminder of the anniversary of the day her parents abandoned her, and most foster parents were hard-pressed to do much more than give her a card (if they acknowledged it at all). As she got older, she’d learned it was best to try to avoid the spotlight, so ignoring birthdays became part of that.

Then she had Henry, and while she cherished his handmade cards each year, that was as far as she ever wanted it to go. But leave it to her manager, Elsa, to glean her birthdate from her employment paperwork and post it on the calendar in the grocery store’s backroom.

And now she had to wear the damn birthday pin. And it was Saturday, so there’d be a bunch of people in...including him. (Him being a subject of avoidance and obsession ever since she started working there.) Oh well, at least it wasn’t a hat; no one would notice it, right?

Wrong.

“Emma, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Granny admonished as Emma rang up her groceries. “You’ll have to come by the diner tonight with Henry for a slice of cake. On the house.”

“Okay, Granny,” she answered, somewhat amusedly and non-committally as she handed the sassy old lady her bags. She had been planning a night of lounging on the couch with pizza and her Roku (Galavant rewatch until Henry went to bed, then catching up on Lucifer) but they could probably squeeze a diner trip in.

The next customer purchased a sole bouquet of flowers; she glanced up to see David, one of her best friends. “Uh-oh, how did you piss off Mary Margaret?” Emma teased as she processed the transaction.

“They’re actually for you. Happy Birthday, Emma.”

“David…”

“Hush. You’re still coming over for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“I’m pretty sure your wife would drag me out of my place and into yours if I didn’t.”

He chuckled. “Too right. See you.”

Emma sniffed the sweet-smelling bouquet before slipping it under her register. They were awfully gorgeous, but no way was she leaving them out for more people to catch on to what today was.

But, of course, small town that Storybrooke was, she knew nearly every customer and each was quick to wish her a happy day, either from seeing the pin or hearing it through the grapevine. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their well wishes; she just hated being put on the spot.

(That, and she really wasn’t sure what she’d do when he finally showed up.)

Thankfully, she got a break a few hours in, and—as promised—a bear claw and fresh cocoa were waiting for her in the breakroom. She flopped down as best she could in one of the hard plastic chairs and dug in, relishing the hyper-sweetness of both and fielding a couple more “Happy Birthdays” from people coming in to start their shifts. Just a few more hours of dealing with this nonsense and she’d be home to her son.

“Hey, Emma?” Elsa meekly asked, poking her head into the room. It was her “I’m about to ask you to do something you might not want to do but I’m your manager so you kind of have to” voice; Emma braced herself. “So...Ashley just called in; apparently, Alexandra has a fever. Can I put you on demo for the afternoon?”

Emma sighed. She had a love-hate relationship with demo. She wasn’t the most experienced cook so the odds of her ruining whatever they were promoting were 50/50. But it also meant hiding out in the corner for the rest of her shift, even if it involved increased foot traffic (including him). “What is it today?”

“Soup. Tomato and roasted red pepper—your favorite!” Elsa added, as if that spiced up the deal. (Which it did; she’d definitely need to hit Granny’s for a grilled cheese now.)

“Okay. But only because I love you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Elsa exclaimed, nearly tackling Emma with a hug. “I love you, too.”

“You know you’re the boss and I have to do whatever you say, right?”

“I know, but it’s your birthday.”

“Ugh.”

Emma finished her treat-slash-lunch, checked her phone real quick (four birthday text messages that she’d reply to later), and then headed to the demo station. There were worse ways to spend a shift than preparing and portioning soup.

Of course, each sample that was claimed was paired with birthday wishes, but she got pretty good at faking a smile, even if her cheeks were starting to hurt.

She’d been at it an hour and was waiting on more soup to heat when she saw a man at the end of the aisle: it was him.

He had his cart, like always, pushing it with the hook he hand in place of a left hand. His dark, disheveled hair hung a bit in his eyes and her fingers itched to push it back. A leather jacket hung on his frame like a second skin and those black jeans left little to the imagination. Even from several yards away, she could see the bright blue of his eyes as they studied the shelf—of course, it helped that he was wearing eyeliner, making them pop.

She wasn’t typically one to go for the bad boys, but something about this guy drew her in, even though the extent of their relationship was her ringing up his purchase every Saturday and he taking his receipt with an accented “thanks, love” that sent a jolt down her spine.

The beeping of the mini stove made Emma jump, pulling her from her trance-slash-ogling of the guy she’d been eying for weeks now. But she’d never work up the nerve to actually make a conversation, or even find out his name—given her history in the relationship department, she knew it was better if she kept her distance.

She distracted herself by spooning soup into sample cups as he made his way down the aisle, and actually managed to immerse herself in it for a moment before his voice interrupted her focus.

“Fancy seeing you over here, love.” Immediately, her eyes darted up to meet his across the counter; she was always amazed at how easy it would be to drown in their depths. Usually, there was a bit of an edge in them, but he always seemed to have a smile for her. Today, though, there was almost—was that relief hiding in his smirk?

She was so caught up in figuring him out that she forgot what she was doing and ended up pouring soup on her hand. Hot soup.

“Ahhh!” she exclaimed, dropping the cup and ladle and shaking her hand.

“Oh, bloody hell—I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” she assured, though her voice was strained. “Just need some cool water.” She hopped over to the sink, pulled off her thin food-prep gloves, and turned on the faucet; it wasn’t a bad burn but it was a little red. Her face, she could feel, was even redder in embarrassment.

But a glance over at him showed that his was, too, and he was adorably scratching behind his ear. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She dried her hand and stepped closer to him.

“I apologize; surprising you like that was bad form, love.”

“Emma,” she felt herself blurt out. “My name isn’t ‘love’; it’s Emma.”

“Emma,” he repeated, and damn if the reverent way it fell off his tongue didn’t make her tingle all the way down to her toes. “I’m Killian,” he introduced, offering his hand. She thought he was just going to shake hers when she placed her palm in his, but he gently brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Her food safety training was going off in the back of her head, but she was going to have to wash her hands anyway. His eyes didn’t leave hers the whole time, until he released her hand and glanced down at her chest—more specifically, at her pin. That damn pin.

“It’s your birthday?”

“Apparently,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Emma.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling genuinely for the first time today.

A silence fell over them for a moment, despite the grocery store din all around them. She knew she should get back to work, but she’d been looking forward to seeing him all shift, and now that they were actually talking, she kind of didn’t want to stop. And neither did he, apparently.

“Was there any—” “I was wor—”

They both stopped and laughed in the middle of speaking over each other, and she gestured for him to continue.

“I have to admit, I was a little worried when I didn’t see you at your normal post when I entered.”

“You were?”

“Aye,” he verified with a nod. “I, uh...I apologize if this seems forward, but...you’re definitely a highlight of my weekend.”

She swallowed. No one had ever admitted anything like that to her, aside from her son. It was a little hard to take in, but she was good at telling lies and he wasn’t lying.

But he did seem to misinterpret her silence. “I’m sorry; that was presumptive and—”

“You’re a highlight of my weekend, too.” Her rushed admission was initially met with shock, but quickly it morphed into a dimpled smile she’d never seen before but was sure she wanted to see more.

“I’m...I’m glad to hear that.”

She could tell he was waiting for her to make the next move, and she desperately wanted to, but she was still processing the whole conversation and that might take a bit of time.

“I should probably let you get back to work,” he said quietly, and she didn’t miss the slight tint of hurt in his voice.

“Uh, yeah,” she agreed, hesitantly. “But, uh...I get off at 4.” That was still a couple hours away; plenty of time for her to get her reeling thoughts and emotions in check.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Good to know.” The playful smirk was back and she was sure there were butterflies in her stomach (or it was grumbling because she definitely needed a grilled cheese).

“Um, was there anything you were looking for today?” she asked, slipping into clerk mode and immediately cringing at her terrible transition.

His smile turned soft; it looked like he picked up on her awkwardness and didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I think I’m good, but...I have a thing later and I need to bring dessert. What do you recommend?”

She got a little jealous at his mention of “a thing” but pushed it down. “Well, our chocolate ganache cake is popular, but…” She leaned in, beckoning him with a finger. “Don’t tell anyone, but the bakery down the street is actually better, and they have amazing cupcakes. Chocolate with vanilla frosting is the best.” That was going to be her first stop on the way home tonight.

“Noted. Thanks, love.”

That jolt ran through her again at his use of the endearment, even though he now knew her name.

“Anytime,” she replied, her voice cracking.

He winked at her. “Have a Happy Birthday.” Before she could say another word, he pushed the cart away and continued shopping.

Oddly, the first thought to enter he head was “I didn’t offer him a sample.” But then she remembered how the whole thing started and got back to work, thinking over the whole encounter.

Killian. Her little crush finally had a name. Honestly, the only reason she’d agreed to even work on her birthday was so she’d see him, and lo and behold, she actually had a conversation with him. Maybe, just maybe, she was coming to see a birthday as a good thing.

She was on a high for the rest of her shift, genuinely thanking people for their birthday wishes while dishing out samples of the heavenly smelling soup. Before she knew it, Elsa was on the other side of the counter. “You ready to go?”

“It’s 4?” Emma glanced at her watch; it was.

“Yeah; I’m surprised you didn’t have a countdown going.”

“Uh, guess I was just having a good time.”

Elsa eyed her skeptically. “But you hate demo.”

“Well...today wasn’t so bad.”

Her friend hummed, musing. “Maybe I should put you here more often.

“Maybe.” Emma would probably regret that, but not today.

“Okay...well, enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

Hurriedly, Emma ran to the back, took off the pin, threw on her coat, and made a mad dash for the door. She pulled out her phone to let Henry know she was on her way, only to then realize: she didn’t get Killian’s number. Not that there had been a good way to do so at the time, but still—idiot. She physically facepalmed.

“You said chocolate with vanilla frosting, right?”

She turned, and there he was, leaning by the door as if he owned the place, bakery bag in hand.

“Ye...yeah.”

He pushed off the wall hip first and sauntered over to her, placing the handle of the bag over her frozen right arm, which had still been gearing up to call Henry.

“Enjoy, love. And Happy Birthday.” He hesitated a moment, but then leaned forward, placing a gentle peck on the apple of her cheek, before turning and walking toward his car (a black Mustang, how typical).

“Wait!” She shook herself from her stupor quickly enough to follow after him. “Let me give you my number.”

A dimple cut into his cheek as he smirked. “Check the bag.”

Confused, she glanced down into the bag. On top of two carefully packaged cupcakes was a sticky note with a phone number on it and his name in impossibly perfect cursive.

By the time she’d read it, he had already started his car and was backing out. “Thank you!” she shouted; whether he heard it or not, he waved, and then drove off.

She stared at the bag for another moment, and the number within, before dazedly heading to her car.

Okay, so maybe birthdays were good.

(Henry nearly grabbed the bag from her when she got home, and promptly demanded to know who Killian was.

He met the man in question when they got to Granny’s and noticed Killian sitting at the counter by himself. Henry insisted he join them.

It also turned out that Killian, too, enjoyed Galavant and Lucifer, so they stopped for a few more cupcakes before heading back to her apartment.

And on her next birthday, they both went in to shop together, on her day off, to take advantage of the family discount—because the rings on their fingers definitely made him family—and then to get cupcakes on the way to their shared home.)