#idk. it was a twist sure. but i feel like it didn’t totally fit with the whole mission a lead up. it was very clearly the prison

[mithidria]

oh my g od i was right i was not prepared for the finale

[senashenta]

Horror High: Chapter Seven

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit (in other chapters)

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: I feel like at 40,000+ words I should have more feedback than I do and I'm not... sure... what I'm doing wrong. Because no one is telling me. Is it just because it's top!Dean and bottom!Cas? It it because I'm a new author to SPN fandom? Is the writing shit? I thought HH was pretty decent but now I'm beginning to wonder. Then again I think the fandom landscape has also changed a lot in the last couple of years since I was last really active. Maybe leaving kudos and comments is just a thing of the past? Who even knows. Hmm. idk idk idk.

Anyway, for those of you who ARE reading and enjoying HH, thanks and I hope you like this chapter, too! This chapter can be read HERE ON AO3 AS WELL. New chapter next Thursday/Friday as usual. <3

HORROR HIGH TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

HORROR HIGH Chapter Seven By Senashenta

Cas had assumed that things between him and Dean would… change, somehow, after Dean stayed overnight at his house. And they did, a little, just not in the Earth-shattering way he had privately feared they might.

Suddenly they were just… closer. There was more intimacy between them. Dean was even more attentive than he had been before. They both seemed to crave physical contact even more than they already had, even just the simple things, like brushing their hands together on the way past, or sitting close against each other’s sides at lunch.

And it was obvious to more than just them. Sam noticed, certainly, and made sarcastic comments whenever the three of them were together, not that that was to be unexpected.

And even Charlie—

“Oh my God, I just figured it out!”

Cas had been staring off into space, thoughts on Dean as per usual, when Charlie’s voice jolted him back to reality. He blinked and looked at her. She was twisted around in her seat, the same as always, her elbow on Cas’s desk and her chin propped in her hand, but this time she also had a mischievous grin on her face. That was never a good sign.

“Uh. What did you figure out, Charlie?” He questioned almost hesitantly.

“What’s different about you!” Charlie chirped, and then; “you totally slept with him, didn’t you?”

“What.” Cas didn’t deny it immediately, which was probably a mistake on his part. Instead, he flushed red and frowned in her direction. “Charlie!”

The redhead gasped and grinned, “oh my God, you actually did!” She turned around in her seat even more to cross her arms over Cas’s desk and looked at him expectantly, “tell me everything.”

And, granted, Charlie was his best friend. And he might have been willing to actually tell her—if they hadn’t been in the middle of class. So instead, Cas gave her a look and told her flatly, “no. We’re in class, Charlie.”

“Well, that’s…” Charlie began, then trailed off and looked around at all the other students before conceding, “right, I take your point.” She patted one hand against his desk, “I am going to text you tonight and you are going to answer, okay?”

Cas couldn’t really argue with that too much, because for Charlie this was being exceedingly reasonable. He loved Charlie, he really did, but sometimes she didn’t have a lick of common sense in her entire body. At least this time she was willing to let it go for the time being—and Cas was much more willing to share some of the details she craved over a private chat later.

Why she wanted to know about his sex life in the first place was beyond him.

“Can you at least tell me if things are good?” Charlie asked after a brief pause. She offered him a real, genuine smile this time, the mischievousness gone, “it seems like they’re good.”

This time Cas had to smile in return, small and smitten and a little embarrassed, “they’re good.” He promised. “Really good.”

Charlie reached over to squeeze his hand, a genuine, friendly gesture. “I’m happy for you, Cas.”

“Mm,” Cas agreed, “I am too.” For once.

-- --

[Okay, spill the deets, Cas.]

Cas checked his phone when it buzzed just after eight-thirty that night, while he was working on homework in his bedroom—and sighed. He’d almost forgotten about Charlie’s promise to text him. And his not-quite promise to reply. But clearly Charlie hadn’t forgotten, obviously. It was probably a miracle she had waited until this late to message him, now that he thought about it.

He tapped his pen against his notebook absently for a moment before picking up his phone to text back:

[Why do you even want to know?]

Honestly, Charlie was a lesbian and very out, and he didn’t understand why she would be interested in knowing about his sex life, aside from the fact that she sometimes had a preoccupation with the mystery of Dean Winchester. He glanced down when his phone binged again:

[Because you’re my friend I want to know he didn’t do anything to hurt you, even accidentally.]

That made Cas pause—and he smiled down at his phone screen fondly:

[Charlie. I told you things were good, didn’t I?]

Honestly, if she was just worried about him, she could have just said so. But it was… nice. To know that she cared that much. He hadn’t had many people in his life that had cared for him like that. She really was his best friend, wasn’t she? Aside from Dean, of course.

[I know you said that, but honestly you are so in love with him that I don’t even know what to believe anymore.] Charlie finally replied, after a brief pause.

Cas hesitated. Started to type “I’m not—” but knew that Charlie would see though that, even over text. So instead, he ignored that part entirely:

[He didn’t hurt me. I promise. He was gentle. It was good, Charlie. SO good. BOTH times.]

He wasn’t sure if Charlie would be smiling over that or gagging a little, but that was the jist of it, without getting into any of the dirty details, which he was absolutely sure Charlie had no real interest in. When Charlie came back with a response it was:

[Dude, how did you even MANAGE this? Is your Dad deaf or something?]

Cas muffled a little laugh:

[He was out of town. Dean stayed the night while he was gone.]

There was a long pause after that, and Cas finally went back to his homework while he waited, scribbling out a few more answers—then crossing out one to redo it. When his phone pinged again, he glanced at it:

[Oooooh, yes, that makes more sense. But you’re sure you’re okay? I mean, even emotionally? Nothing you need to talk about? It’s a big thing. I remember the first time I slept with my first girlfriend, it was INTENSE.]

Cas sat back in his seat to type out his reply:

[It was intense, yes. And awkward sometimes. But it was good. And I promise I’m fine. Things with me and Dean are… they’re really, really good. I don’t regret anything.]

And wasn’t that the important thing? Spending the night together hadn’t made things awkward or weird between them, it had brought them closer together. How could he possibly regret it when that was the end result?

Charlie’s next text echoed his thoughts: [That’s the important part. You’re happy, no regrets. Then I’m happy for you. Also, it means I don’t have to kick Dean Winchester’s ass for you, so there’s that.]

Cas chuckled at the very idea of petite Charlie attempting to kick Dean’s ass: [goodnight, Charlie.]

[Night, Cas.]

-- --

Caspar High and Bedwin Junior High were having a P.A. day on the same day, probably because they were associated, which meant no classes on Friday, which meant they could spend the day however they wanted to. This, of course, meant that Cas would be joining the Winchester brothers in another hours-long research session—only this time not at the motel they had been living out of for weeks.

Instead, he invited them to his house, which he judged to be much more comfortable. (This was mostly for Sam’s benefit, the poor kid spent ninety percent of his life cooped up in that dingy motel while he wasn’t in school; at least Dean had a couple of other destinations he could get away to.)

“I can’t believe you made me bring Sam.” Dean complained as soon as Cas opened the door upon their arrival, around ten in the morning.

Sam ignored him and added his own, “hi, Cas.”

Cas also ignored him. “Hi, Sam.” Standing aside, he let them come in and kick off their shoes, then added, “you can make yourselves at home. If you’re hungry or thirsty just come down and get something from the kitchen. Sam, I’ll show you where the bathroom is. My Father is home today, but he’s working on manuscripts in his study, so as long as we’re not too loud we shouldn’t bother him.” He shrugged and closed the door behind them. “Sam, my room is at the top of the stairs on the left. You can go on up.”

Sam shrugged. He had a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. “What’s the wifi password?”

“’Multiverse216’.” Cas told him, and then took a brief moment to be grateful when Sam didn’t question it. Explaining his father’s frankly unerring belief in the multiverse theory would have been embarrassing. Once Sam was off, headed for his bedroom, Cas turned his attention to Dean, who was still looking grumpy, arms full of heavy-looking books. Sighing, Cas reached to take a few of them with a smile. “What’s wrong? You’re pouting.”

“I am not.” Dean absolutely pouted, shifting the remaining books to one arm, then; “we definitely can’t make out with Sam around, can we?”

“Probably not,” Cas agreed, turning to head upstairs, “but it’s not fair on him to make him hide away in the motel all the time while you come over here, and we go out places and everything. Hence me inviting him. Besides, we’re supposed to be doing research, which means no making out anyway.”

Dean grumbled something like ‘you’re lucky you’re so cute’ under his breath, making Cas laugh as they climbed the stairs.

When they got to his room, Sam had already taken over the floor at the foot of the bed, his laptop out and notebooks and papers spread everywhere. Cas took a moment to point out to the door to the bathroom to him, at the same time as Dean made a beeline for the bed and flopped onto it with his books, then scooted around to pat the spot beside him with a hopeful look.

“Nice try.” Cas set the rest of the books down beside Dean, who proceeded to give him a dirty look, and then moved over to his desk where his own laptop was set up, digging out a notebook and pen while he powered it up.

“Thank God at least one of you has some common sense.” Sam commented without looking up.

“I try.” Cas agreed.

“I hate you both.” Dean groused.

At that point they all got down to work, Cas and Sam doing Internet searches while Dean poured through the numerous books they had brought along. There was general companionable silence, with the exception of once or twice when one of them thought they had a lead and it turned out to be nothing in the end. In those cases, muttered cursing happened.

Cas was mildly disturbed by the number of Aragog or Shelob fansites that kept popping up—and more than mildly disturbed by the Aragog/Shelob fanfiction that followed. He was very quick to click away from those types of things when they came up in his searches, but he was getting enough of it that he began to develop the opinion that some people had too much time on their hands.

Around twelve thirty, they took a break for lunch and Dean made the executive decision that they were ordering pizza. Cas had learned last time that Dean’s version of pizza was all meat and contained no vegetable toppings of any kind, and this pie followed in its’ predecessor’s footsteps: pepperoni, sausage, bacon, and extra cheese. Sam was obviously used to it because he didn’t question the order at all. Cas just figured pizza was pizza and it was all good. He took a slice in to his father, who was still typing away at his computer. Chuck said a quick thanks and immediately got right back to work.

They ate standing around the kitchen island, and one extra large pizza didn’t last long as they were all growing teens. Besides that, Dean could put away half of one himself, easy. Once they were done, they tidied up their mess (pizza box, soda cans) and headed back upstairs to continue their research.

This time Dean managed to Puppy Eye Cas into joining him on the bed. He unplugged his laptop and took it with him, laying on his stomach beside his boyfriend and staunchly ignoring when Dean leaned over and dropped a kiss against his neck. He was not going to start a full-on make-out session with Sam in the room. That was just rude. Dean seemed to get the hint after a minute or two and went back to his books with a disappointed sigh.

“Thank you for being so reasonable, Cas.” Sam piped up from the floor.

“You’re welcome, Sam.” Cas replied easily.

“I’m right here, you know.” Dean grumbled.

That was the end of it for then and they all went back to work, mostly quiet for the next hour of so until Sam suddenly hit on something, frowned to himself, and followed a series of links to a particular article about—“jorogumo!” He announced excitedly, pushing himself up and peering over the edge of the bed at Dean and Cas, “I think I might actually have something, here!”

“Thank God,” Dean slammed the book he was looking through closed and waved a hand toward Sam, “lay it on me, Sammy.”

“Okay, so,” Sam turned back to his computer, “a jorogumo is a type of yokai, or demon, a creature from Japanese folklore. The kanji used to write it literally translates to ‘spider woman.’ It’s half-spider, half-woman, and preys exclusively on men. In some myths it can shapeshift into a beautiful woman to lure in its’ prey, but that part changes depending on who you ask. Uh… so they originate from Japan, like I said, but they’ve kind of slowly spread out over the world, all different subspecies.” He poked his head up to look at Dean and Cas again; “they inject their victims with digestive juices and then drink the liquified insides, like spiders. And that would explain the cocoons and the exoskeleton!”

“And the fact that the victims have all been male. Sounds like our monster,” Dean agreed, “how do you kill them?”

“Fire!” Sam grinned, “just fire, that’s easy, right?”

“Depends.” Dean hedged, “are we talking Molotov cocktails?”

Cas blinked at that and turned back to his computer, typing something in and then scrolling for a minute while the Winchesters discussed the merits of Molotov cocktails and the fact that their dad wasn’t around to buy the liquor for them this time, so Dean would have to use one of his fake IDs and pray the people at the store believed him.

“Will this work?” Cas interrupted finally and turned the laptop for Dean to see the screen.

The older boy blinked, then squinted—and finally grinned. “Yeah. That’ll work, Cas.” Leaning over, he kissed Cas hard, then pulled back, still grinning, to add, “that’ll definitely work!”

-- --

It turned out that building a miniature homemade flamethrower was almost disturbingly easy. And cheap. And at no point required a fake ID. All they needed was a small fire extinguisher, a bicycle pump, a drill, a hacksaw, a vice grip, a few other small odds-and-ends and about a gallon of lighter fluid. All of this could be purchased from local hardware stores (on Dean’s fake credit card) for less than a couple hundred bucks.

They were going to make three of them.

Not one for each of them, of course, Dean was going to be doing all the heavy lifting when it came to Monster Killing Time, but because each one was good for maybe four blasts at best (probably more like two or three) and they wanted to be prepared. In later years the Winchesters would improve on the mini-flamethrower design, but for now this was what they had. It was also why Dean insisted on using his fake ID and buying liquor anyway—to use just in case the flamethrowers failed him, since all the lore they could find on jorogumos said fire and nothing but fire.

“What’s left at this store?” Dean asked. He was leaning on the mostly full shopping cart as they walked the aisles.

“Um…” Cas glanced down at the list in his hand. “Lamp wicks and hose clamps.”

“Right.”

The list of things they needed to buy had been divided into two and they had gone to two different stores just in case a clerk got suspicious. They were already getting odd looks because they were even there—midday on a Friday—and not in school, though no one could know they were in the middle of a P.A. Day, of course. Still, it was important to mitigate the strangeness of their purchases, just in case.

“Got the lamp wicks!” Sam came around the corner with the box of wicks in his hand and dropped it into the cart. Dean didn’t even stop moving. “Couldn’t find the hose clamps. It’s possible they don’t stock them. We may have to hit another store.”

“Or go back to the last one again.” Dean shrugged.

Probably unadvisable. They’d bought two fire extinguishers and a hacksaw at the last store. Going back again would likely garner attention they didn’t want.

“Google says there are over thirty hardware stores in Jacksonville,” Cas put in his two cents helpfully, “I’m sure we can find another one.” A pause then; “which has hose clamps, hopefully.”

“Why do we need hose clamps, again?”

“We just do, Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of the front of the cart to halt it in its’ tracks, forcing Dean to stop walking as well. “Why don’t we just ask someone who works here about the hose clamps?”

That… was probably a good idea. Cas blinked and wandered off to find a sales associate without another word.

It turned out the hose clamps were down Aisle Twelve and they had walked past them at least twice already in their wandering the store. A few minutes after Cas left, he came back with three of the highly sought-after part and dropped them into the shopping cart with a little, pleased smile. “That’s it, right?”

When they got to the register and put everything up on the cash belt the man behind the counter took a quick look over the contents of their purchase and asked cheerfully, “you guys building a flamethrower? I saw it on YouTube! You’re missing a few things, though.”

“Flamethrower? Nooooo, absolutely not!” Dean laughed nervously at the same time as Cas blurted out “it’s for science class!”

Sam facepalmed and pushed in front of them to address the cashier: “just double bag it, please, we’re walking.”

-- --

Actually making the flamethrowers was a lot more complicated than buying the parts had been, but Dean and Sam seemed to be on it. Cas felt rather useless, just sitting around watching, but he really had no idea what he was doing, while they did.

So, once they got back to the motel the brothers got to work and over the course of the afternoon, they built three of the deceptively innocent looking little devices. They couldn’t really test them out properly, as they had nowhere to test them, and they also didn’t want to waste the fuel, so they just had to hope they worked when the time came.

Dean also left for a little while and came back with a bag full of bottles of liquor—apparently, they had accepted his fake ID after all. Those were lined up along the counter in the kitchenette to be turned into Molotov cocktails closer to the time they would be needed.

It was decided that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Dean would head into the monster’s nest in two days, on Sunday night, when there wouldn’t be anyone else around to get in the way—or get hurt.

Cas didn’t know how to feel at that moment except nervous, and it showed. Once they were done their preparation—or as close to done as they could get—Dean tugged him over to his bed to lay down, and the two of them just cuddled up together, not saying a word, for the rest of the time he was there.

This time Sam didn’t even make any sarcastic comments.

When he was leaving to go home, around dinner time, Cas whispered a quiet, “please be careful.”

Dean leaned their foreheads together and closed his eyes, promising, “I will.”

-- --

All of Saturday, Cas worried. He cleaned his room to distract himself. When that didn’t work, he texted Charlie for a while. Then he broke down and called Dean, just to talk to him, to hear his voice. They talked about everything and nothing—and it helped, at least a little. But he couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning and eventually just giving up trying.

Sunday was much the same, but this time he didn’t call Dean. Dean needed to focus, he didn’t need his fretting boyfriend distracting him, throwing him off his game. He barely ate any of his dinner and his father asked if he was feeling alright; he replied that he thought he might be coming down with something.

At ten o’clock at night, he got one text from Sam:

[He’s leaving in an hour. Everything will be fine.]

And Cas stared at it for the longest time before shoving his phone in his pocket and heading out the door.

-- --

When Dean arrived at Caspar High at almost midnight, he was shocked to find Cas standing out front, waiting for him. A deep frown crossed his face, and he all but stomped over, hauling the duffle bag with the flamethrowers and Molotov cocktails in it along the way. Cas at least had the presence of mind to look guilty when he saw Dean coming—his boyfriend was going to be angry, and he knew it.

“What the hell, Cas?!”

“Dean, I know, I just—”

“You can’t be here!” The only reason Dean wasn’t shouting was because he didn’t want to draw attention to them. As it was his voice came out a harsh, growled whisper. “Go! Home!”

But Cas, maybe surprisingly, maybe not so surprisingly, dug his heels in. He crossed his arms. “No! You need someone to be here for you! What if something goes wrong? You expect me to just sit at home while you—”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I EXPECT.” Dean hissed, glaring now, “this is my job, Cas! You’re a civilian, you need to go home! Right now!”

Cas glared right back, a deep frown on his face, and shook his head. “I’m staying, Dean! What if you get hurt? You’ll need someone to get you back to the motel—or to the hospital! This whole solo Hunt thing is risky and stupid, and I can’t just—” Breaking off, he made a frustrated noise and grabbed at the front of Dean’s shirt, yanking him forward and leaning to kiss him harshly. “Don’t be stupid about this, let me stay.”

Dean continued glaring at him for another long moment before he made a little annoyed sound, green eyes skimming to the side and then returning to Cas’s, holding there intensely. “Don’t you dare come inside, Cas. You stay out here, no matter what happens.”

Well… that wasn’t really what he had intended, but Cas figured it was the best he was going to get. He knew there was no way Dean would let him go into the school with him—Dean cared about him too much to allow that. Cas was still frowning, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

Dean huffed a frustrated noise and crouched down, rummaging through the duffle bag before pulling out two of the Molotov cocktails and a lighter. When he stood again, he held them out for Cas to take. “Here. Just in case. You know what to do with them?”

Cas took the bottles and the lighter, tucking the lighter into his pocket so he wouldn’t lose it. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, so yes.”

Really, what Dean wanted to do was leave one of the flamethrowers—but he couldn’t risk it. They each only held a couple of blasts worth of fuel. He would need them. Besides which, he didn’t even know for sure that they would work, yet. He didn’t want to leave Cas with a possibly defunct weapon in case something did happen.

“Damnit, Cas.” Grabbing at the side of Cas’s neck, he pulled the other boy in for another harsh kiss, then pressed their foreheads together and muttered, “this is really, really Goddamn stupid.”

“I know.” Cas met his gaze firmly. “But I’m staying.”

It seemed to be decided. At least Cas wasn’t insisting on coming inside with him, Dean could take comfort in that much. For now, he just released the younger boy and hefted the duffle bag up to head for the school doors, already digging out his lockpick kit.

Behind him he could hear Cas say softly, “be safe,” and he had to resist the urge to turn around and pull Cas into his arms, hold him forever and keep him protected from the evils of the world. Instead, he unlocked the door and slipped into the building, alone.

Coming from the front entrance it was a much straighter shot to the tech hall and the basement, and Dean made it there without even hearing the footsteps of the guard, then picked the basement door lock again and stepped inside. The door swung shut behind him with an ominous click.

Dean flicked on his flashlight and peered down the stairs. Something in the basement rustled, stirring.

You’re home tonight, then. Good. A frown and Dean shoved any lingering thoughts of Cas out of his mind, forcing himself to focus. He couldn’t afford to be distracted tonight. He had to be the Hunter. The blunt instrument. The man his dad had trusted this Hunt to. Nothing more, nothing less.

He made his way down the stairs with determination in his steps. At the bottom he stopped, shining his flashlight around… and then paused when something above him shifted, clicking and chittering softly. Dean froze for a split second before beaming the flashlight upward and—

“Oh shit.”

Dangling upside-down from the ceiling on a thin line of spider thread was the jorogumo; it had a human head, arms and torso, female attributes and long, dark hair. But where the human torso ended, about at the hips, it was connected to a massive spider body, eight long legs and—a red hourglass figure on the mostly black abdomen.

Great, a black widow jorogumo. It just kept getting better.

The creature slowly spun its’ way down to the ground, flipping over and landing on it’s almost delicate-looking spider limbs. It cocked its’ head to the side and regarded Dean with eight large, unsettling round eyes, its’ hands carding through its’ long hair restlessly. Dean was already pulling out the first flamethrower, his movements slow and careful.

When he lit the lamp wick, though, the jorogumo took one look at the fire and sprung to life with an animalistic screech. The next thing Dean knew the thing was rushing at him and he fell back a step, bringing the flamethrower up and firing off the first blast.

The jorogumo dodged to the side, but the fire scorched a section of the nest—and that just pissed it off even more. Dean fired off another blast as the creature charged him again, then went for a third—but the tank came up dry. He snapped a curse and pitched the now-empty flamethrower away, already scrambling to pull out and light the second one.

This wasn’t going very well so far.

With the second flamethrower lit, he dodged to the left when the jorogumo lashed out at him, then fired at it again—and this time managed to clip one of its’ legs. The thing screamed and lashed out, knocking the flamethrower from his grasp and sending him flying into the wall. He crashed into the brick hard and landed on the ground harder.

Gasping for air, Dean pushed up and rolled over just in time for the creature to pounce at him and—

White, powdery smoke suddenly filled the room, along with a loud hissing noise, and the jorogumo screeched again, arms and legs flailing in the cloud of dust. Dean scrambled up just in time for Cas’s voice to call out, “get up, Dean! We’ve got to get out of here!”

“CAS!” Dean whirled to face the stairs, where Cas was standing, holding a fire extinguisher in a white-knuckled grip. “Goddamnit!”

“You can’t fight it in here! Grab the bag and lets’ go!” Cas insisted, tossing the expended fire extinguisher to the ground. He turned and started up the stairs without even waiting to see if Dean was following him—just assumed he was. Dean was going to kill him. But later. For now, he just snatched up the duffle bag and dashed up the steps after the other boy.

The two of them bolted down the hall toward the exit with the jorogumo right on their heels the entire way, and Cas burst out into the night to head straight for the two Molotov cocktails that were sitting where he had left them, one hand grabbing for the lighter in his pocket the entire way.

Dean, meanwhile, got out into the middle of the concrete lobby and skidded to a stop, dropping the bag in his hand and fumbling for the third and final flamethrower. A minute later the jorogumo exploded out the front doors, shattering glass everywhere, and Dean lit it up.

This time the fire stuck, and the monster whirled around, trying to staunch the flames while Dean set up for another blast. Cas, meanwhile, had lit the rag in one of the Molotov cocktails, and moved forward, raising his arm to throw it—

The jorogumo was faster than either of them. It whipped in a circle, legs flailing, sending Dean flying once more, claws cutting into his chest slightly in the process—and Cas managed to pitch the bottle he was holding just before the creature’s leg collided with him, its’ claws raking his flesh and sending him crashing into one of the retaining walls with a shout.

When Dean clambered to his feet, it was to see that Cas’s Molotov cocktail had hit its’ mark and the jorogumo was well and truly burning now, screeching and screaming and flailing around until it collapsed in a still-burning heap. Job done, right?

Except then he looked around for Cas, only to spot the other teen across the entryway, slumped on his side, eyes closed and not moving. Dean’s heart practically jumped into his throat, and he scrambled over to his boyfriend, dropping down next to him and hurriedly checking him over, his own breath coming fast, almost panicky.

Cas was bleeding heavily from wounds that Dean couldn’t really see in the darkness of after midnight, and he seemed to be swimming in-and-out of consciousness. Dean felt around his head urgently and made a soft sound in his throat when he found a swelling lump near the back of Cas’s skull. He had obviously hit his head when he went down. That wasn’t good, either.

Still breathing hard, Dean eased back a little, stood, then carefully hauled Cas to his feet. Cas didn’t fight it, but he went along about as well as a limp noodle, head lolling slightly.

Dean left everything else behind and headed for the motel as fast as he possibly could, half-carrying Cas the entire way.

-- --

“Sammy!”

Dean pounded on the motel door impatiently, waiting for Sam to check the peep hole before opening it; the whole time Cas was half-draped across him, still fading in-and-out of consciousness, blood slowly soaking through the front of his torn shirt and flecking onto the concrete floor beneath them.

“SAMMY, OPEN THE DOOR!” He pounded on the door again, and this time was rewarded by the sound of Sam scrabbling with the chain lock and deadbolt—and finally the door yanked open. Dean shoved past his brother, hauling Cas into the motel room and leaving Sam to shut and re-lock the door behind them.

“You brought CAS?!” Sam demanded.

“Not on purpose.” Dean grunted, then; “get the first-aid kit.”

Sam practically dove under his bed for the duffle bag that served as their first-aid kit while Dean gingerly set Cas down on the other one. Cas immediately teetered sideways, falling over with a groan. Dean tried to catch him but failed, and instead was left to swing the other boy’s legs up onto the mattress and rearrange him so he could be worked on.

“Sam!”

“Here!” Sam dropped the first-aid bag on the floor next to the bed Cas was on and then stepped back. “What happened?”

Dean grabbed where Cas’s shirt was already torn and pulled, ripping it wide open. Two long, deep gashes ran from the front of Cas’s ribcage on his left side all the way around to his back. The bleeding had slowed significantly, but they were still oozing, and dark black-and-purple bruising was already rising to the surface of Cas’s skin all over his torso.

“Goddamned jorogumo!” Dean snapped, angry with the monster and with himself and with Cas and with everything right then. He gingerly felt along the edges of the deeper of the two gashes, dismayed to find them ragged and torn rather than smoothly cut. That meant they wouldn’t be able to stitch them up. “He came in after me! He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but he was, so I made him promise to stay outside and the asshole came in after me!”

Sam was already yanking gauze and bandages out of the first-aid kit, along with the tube of antibiotic ointment that had been a literal lifesaver on more than one occasion. He elbowed Dean out of the way and got to work on Cas’s wounds, smearing the antibiotics in every inch of the cuts and then packing them before pressing bandages down and wrapping everything up in gauze.

It didn’t really take that long. Even at just thirteen years old, Sam was proficient when it came to first-aid. He’d been patching up Dean and their dad for almost as long as he could remember.

When Sam finally sat back, bloody almost up to his elbows and blood smeared all across his shirt, Cas looked… well. Not good, but better. “We should get that shirt off him properly. Get a cloth and clean him up.”

“He hit his head,” Dean muttered, almost to himself, “he hit his head hard.”

Sam leaned up and pried one of Cas’s eyelids open, peering into his eye, then moved to the other one and did the same. “His pupils look okay. Probably just a concussion. He’ll have a headache when he wakes up, that’s for sure.”

“But he’ll be okay?”

“I’m not a doctor.” Sam reminded his brother, a sharp edge to his voice, “he really should go to a hospital.”

Dean made a slightly hysterical noise and gestured harshly toward Cas. What was he supposed to do, dump the other boy outside the ER and run? He had no way of explaining what happened to him, where his injuries came from, and no real adult to help him bullshit his way out of it, either. He may have been eighteen now, but really, he was still a kid. Despite the tremendous amount of shit he would be in (for various reasons), he honestly wished his dad was there right then. He would know what to do.

“I know, I’m just saying.” Sam shook his head. He looked at his hands, then sighed and just wiped the worst of the blood off on his already ruined shirt. Glancing at Dean, he looked him over for a second and then added; “dude, you need to sit down before you fall down. Your adrenaline is about to crash hard.”

Ignoring his brother’s advice entirely, as well as the minute shaking in his hands, Dean instead stripped out of his jacket, dumping it out of the way. It would need to be dry-cleaned to get rid of all the blood. His shirt underneath wasn’t in much better condition. Dean pulled that off as well, revealing a couple of small gashes that marred his own chest, then dug through the first-aid kit for a pair of scissors while Sam went to the bathroom to get a wet cloth.

The next little while was spent cutting Cas out of what was left of his t-shirt and gently wiping away as much of the blood as possible, cleaning him up. By the time they were done, Dean was ready to drop. He sat on the edge of the bed with his arms braced against the mattress to help keep himself upright and took a few breaths—until Sam’s hand shoved into his view, holding a power bar.

“Eat this.” The younger Winchester ordered. He was still holding the bloody cloth in his other hand. “I’m going to have a shower. Cas’ll be out for a while. You should lay down.” And then an eyeroll and he cut Dean off before he could protest; “you can lay down with him, if it makes you feel better.”

Dean considered protesting anyway, but in the end, he just took the power bar, ripped it open and took a bite, then muttered around it as he chewed, “thanks, Sammy.”

Sam gave him an encouraging half-smile. “He’ll be okay.” Then disappeared into the bathroom to wash the gore away.

To his credit, Dean not only finished the power bar, he also had the presence of mind to pull a clean shirt on before he climbed into the bed with Cas, settling next to the younger boy, close against his side and resting a hand carefully against his sternum just so he could feel him breathing in and out. So he could feel that he was still alive.

But it didn’t take much of being laid-out like that for the last of his adrenaline to give way and abandon him entirely—and by the time Sam emerged from the bathroom, Dean had passed out cold. Sam huffed a little sigh and tossed a blanket over both of them before going to put on a pot of coffee. Someone needed to stay awake, and it looked like it was going to have to be him.

-- --

When Dean eventually woke up, nearly three hours later, it was with a jerk so sharp he accidentally jostled Cas as well. The hand resting by Cas’s chest clenched there, then smoothed out again, and when he felt that Cas was still breathing, he gave a little relieved sigh and pressed his forehead against the edge of the other teen’s shoulder.

“He didn’t die while you were passed out.” Sam observed from where he was seated, at the little kitchenette table, on his umpteenth cup of coffee. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him.”

Dean nodded, hair mussing against Cas’s shoulder. “Good… good.”

“We should try to wake him up, soon. We need to get him back home before morning.”

“I’ll—just a minute, Sammy.” A slightly shaky breath while Dean continued to just feel Cas breathing, and then he carefully pushed himself up and reached to cup the side of Cas’s face with a hand that still had smears of blood on it, patting his cheek gently as he peered down at him. “Cas? C’mon, Cas… time to get up. Hey.”

It took a couple of minutes of gentle coaxing, but eventually Cas began to come around, eyes slowly fluttering open and mouth working, obviously confused—and in pain. He grimaced almost immediately, and Dean made a soft sympathetic sound.

“You with me?” He asked quietly, hand still carefully stroking the other boy’s cheek, “Cas, you need to wake up. We have to get you home before your Dad figures out you’re gone.”

“’M here,” Cas groaned, and tried to sit up, only to yelp out a cry and fall onto his back again. Dean’s hands hovered worriedly before pressing against his chest to carefully hold him down. “Shit. Shit, Sam, I don’t think this is going to work—”

“Mm-mm.” Cas protested weakly and brought an arm up to take hold of one of Dean’s wrists. “Don’t want to get you in trouble. Just—help me sit up.” Then, after a brief pause, “I don’t think—don’t think I can walk home, though…” The walk home all the way from the motel seemed more than a little daunting at the moment. He would likely pass out if he tried it.

“We’ll call a cab.” Sam assured him, leaving his place at the table and heading over to help Dean get Cas to his feet.

And it was quite a feat; first they had to get him sitting up, and that was probably the hardest part. Between the two of them they struggled but managed it, and then, sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, Cas had to stop and just breathe through the pain that was radiating through his entire torso.

“Do we have anything we can give him for the pain?” Dean asked, one arm around Cas to help hold him up.

Sam reluctantly shook his head. “No, I think Dad has all the painkillers. We could try ripping off a pharmacy…?”

But Cas made another protesting noise. “Don’t need to do that.” He assured them, trying to look like he didn’t feel on the verge of death and failing miserably. “You could get caught. I have aspirin at home. I’ll be… I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Cas…”

Cas shook his head and leaned into Dean’s side, already exhausted. “I swear. I’ll be okay.”

“We have antibiotics, though.” Sam got down to dig through the first-aid kit again, coming up with a bottle of antibiotics. “You never know, right? Who knows what you might catch from a jorogumo… especially with wounds as bad as yours.” He held them out for Cas to take, “no arguing.”

Cas actually agreed with everything Sam had just said, so he just took the bottle without complaints, then pushed himself away from Dean again and braced for the attempt to stand. “I need a shirt.” To cover up the bandages if nothing else.

That was easy. Sam went to the dresser and pulled out one of Dean’s band tees, bringing it over so Dean could help Cas get into it. Once he was (somewhat) properly dressed again, Cas had to take another break just to breathe, with Dean rubbing his arm worriedly the entire time. The blatant concern that Dean was showing was a bit of a mild shock to Sam, though he wasn’t letting it show. He’d never seen his brother act this way before.

After another long pause, Cas finally took a bit of a breath and then pushed off the mattress. Dean yelped out a surprised noise and scrambled to help him, making sure it was more of a stand and less of a fall. Cas managed to stand and stay on his feet, wobbling just a little.

“My head is killing me. How much blood did I lose?”

“Not all of it.” Dean hedged, not quite an answer; “but you hit your head pretty hard. It’s not surprising it hurts.”

“Nn.” Cas just grunted softly and leaned into him a little. “Let’s just get me home so I can go to bed.”

It probably wasn’t a good idea for him to sleep on the heels of an obvious concussion, but he couldn’t tell his father why he was about to be bed-bound, never mind ask him to make sure he stayed awake. But besides that, he was exhausted. He just wanted to go to bed, any bed, pass back out and sleep for a week straight, concussion be damned.

Sam called a taxi, and it thankfully got there in what had to be record time. Dean helped Cas get out the door to wait and into the car when it arrived—then climbed in beside him without a word, leaving Sam alone in the motel room once more.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” Cas had one arm wrapped around himself, holding his ribs securely. He wasn’t wearing his seatbelt—couldn’t. It would hurt too much every time the car jolted. “You could’ve stayed with Sam.”

“Shut up you idiot, of course I had to come with you.” Dean grumbled, one hand resting on Cas’s leg, gripping there firmly, grounding for the both of them. “Besides, I have to pay for the cab, right?”

He had a point. Cas conceded this one and fell silent, leaning back and letting his head fall back with a wince when the cab hit a bump in the road. Dean just squeezed his leg a little tighter, gritting his teeth because seeing Cas in so much pain was—it was intolerable. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

The ride to Cas’s house was short but seemed to take forever. When the driver dropped them off, Dean paid with his fake credit card and then helped Cas out of the car and up the front steps of the house. Cas fumbled to get his key out of his jeans pocket and opened the door, and the two of them went inside and up to Cas’s bedroom as quietly as possible.

Once they were in the room with the door firmly closed behind them, Dean set about getting Cas out of his jeans—and then into the bed. He could sleep in his boxers and the borrowed t-shirt.

It took some shuffling and adjusting, rearranging of pillows, to get Cas comfortable, but eventually they managed it, at which point Cas weakly asked if Dean could stay, just for a little while. And as much as he wanted to, Dean had to say no. It was already nearly five a.m. and he still had to walk back to the motel. But on top of that, he couldn’t be caught there in the morning when Chuck woke up.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could,” Dean stroked through Cas’s hair gently, “where’s the aspirin?”

“Bedside drawer.” Cas mumbled. He was already starting to doze off.

Dean quickly dug the painkillers out of the nightstand and tipped a couple into his palm, then replaced the bottle and returned his attention to Cas. “Hey. Hey, take these before you fall asleep.”

Another sleepy mumble, but Cas opened his mouth and let Dean tip the pills in. He swallowed them dry and then offered a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Dean leaned over to press a kiss into Cas’s hair and then moved away, standing. “I’ll come by tomorrow. Tell your Dad you’re sick or something. Get some sleep.”

Cas uttered a garbled agreement, already falling asleep.

Dean took off, leaving Cas to rest.

[broken-clover]

SolAxl Week(ish)- Day 6

Not only late but skipping a prompt! I do intend to come back to it, it's just that the plot kinda spiraled out of control so if I want to consider finishing this thing in less than a month or more I better just step around the mess and come back to it.

Also going back to being typical of me. Tis simply how I do. I did take partial inspiration from the respiratory infection I got over the original ship week that made it too difficult to have everything done on time. Idk for some reason I just found it funny

6- Ghost Hunter AU, Sick Day, Drinking Together

-

Soup. Soup was supposed to be good for this kinda thing, wasn’t it? Probably not all that much, honestly, but one of those things that made people feel like it was?

(Whatever. It hadn’t been his area of expertise, even before. As he’d often scoff to his relatives as they clamored for his advice, he wasn’t that kind of doctor.)

Swiftly growing frustrated from staring at shelves, Sol simply grabbed a handful of basics and dumped them on the checkout counter. For what it was worth, the cashier only flinched a little at the sight and sound of him barging up.

“Find everything okay today, mister?”

Sol grunted. “Jus’ getting the essentials.”

“Looks like. Feeling okay? Your voice sounds a little rough.”

“Nah. That’s just a century’s worth of smoking. Gettin’ em ‘cause he ain’t going out himself.”

“Ah, that totally makes sense, I’d- “ He watched her visibly process the statement. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemingly thought better of it. “Well, they’re lucky to have you. Cash or card?”

Something about this sorta thing still didn’t feel quite right. Sol Badguy didn’t do the ‘domestic’ schtick. He was supposed to be out slumming it in the woods and hunting bounties, not doing medicine cabinet runs. It didn’t matter how much he hated scrounging for his own food and not having access to running water, part of him still struggled to deal with this shift in environment. Oftentimes, Axl was one of the few things to make the transition feel a little less jarring, but, well…

Sol used his hands just enough to twist the handle before doing the rest with a hip. “Hey, you up?”

And not an inch moved since he’d left. Their old sofa currently housed a heap of frayed blue fabric in the vague, sad shape of a man. Or a sad great dane. Or, if he squinted, a sad small pony. Sol watched it shift around at the sound of his voice.

“M’back. Got the stuff for ya. Most of it, at least.” He rustled the bag. “Cherry was the kind you were allergic to, right?”

The heap shifted again. Sol grabbed a handful of blanket, and, once he was somewhat sure there wasn’t any hair attached, he tugged it up until a miserable-looking face peered back at him.

“Mornin’, princess. How ya feeling?”

“...’ucks, -ief.”

He understood it enough. “Yeah, I figure. Was gonna buy you a whiteboard or something, but they didn’t have anything. Can get a pen if you want.”

Axl tried to scowl at him, but as soon as his lips wrinkled, it sent him into another coughing fit. As gently as he could manage, Sol thumped him on the back until it subsided. He watched the man shudder and sink back into his blanket cocoon.

“Y’know I was serious, right?” Sol found a spot to squeeze himself in and sit. “Gonna be honest, I’m kinda thrown off by it. Never seen you this quiet ever. Can’t wait ‘til this thing clears out and you can talk my ear off again.”

“Hhhh.” He took a bag of cough drops as they were offered, tearing it open and stuffing a hand in. “‘anks.”

Meanwhile, Sol kept digging through the bag, pulling a can of beer for himself and juice for his couchmate. Axl sent him a funny look, but took it anyway, tossing a couple of cough drops in his mouth before taking a swig.

Spotting something as it poked out from the blanket folds, Sol gave it a few tugs before finding himself in possession of the television remote. “Huh. Let’s see if there’s something stupid on.”

That got him another weird look. “What, don’t wanna? Though it’d take your mind off things.”

No, that didn’t seem like it was it. He watched Axl try to form a reply, but all that came out were raspy half-words that didn’t make much sense. He gestured vaguely at Sol, still not making much of a comprehensible point.

“You wanna watch something specific…?” Asked Sol, continuing to absentmindedly channel-surf.

“No! -onna- “ Clearly growing frustrated at his lack of success, Axl yanked at his hair and shoved the other man’s shoulder. “Sick!” He gestured to himself.

“Yeah? I know you’re sick, dumbass…” Oh. “You worried about me?”

” -es!” It almost came out as a coherent word, and in exchange, back he went to coughing.

“Tch, well ain’t you sweet.” Sol pressed a warm hand against his partner’s back and kneaded the skin at the base of his neck. Nah, ‘m not worried. Gear, remember? Overclocked immune system.”

“Mmph…” Satisfied, but still annoyed, Axl pulled the blankets back over his head. He flopped against Sol and took another sip of juice.

The Gear continued on in his search until he found something suitably stupid-looking, some kinda slapstick public-access cartoon. With his free hand, he patted the top of Axl’s blanket cocoon. “Lucky you, means you can hang off me all ya want. Free pass.”

Though he expected Axl would immediately take the opportunity and latch on, for now he seemed completely content to use him as a leaning rock and a source of heat. Huh. That sick, then. As much as Sol liked to roll his eyes at Axl’s overly-energetic nature and nonstop chatter, he missed it sorely as soon as it was gone. He hoped it wouldn’t be much more than a few days longer, then Axl would go back to being the cheery nuisance that Sol knew and loved.

[mintywolf]

A Long Road Home - Author Notes

Page 25

Oh no, I made the whole Bradbury family adorable. (I guess it’s hereditary.)

I’m not sure exactly how old they’re supposed to be; by the time she’s 20 they’re both described as looking “older” but that was after 5 years of Bad Times Whitestone under the Briarwoods. So I’d guess early-mid 30’s? Kinda late (for the setting) to have a toddler. I like the implied fairy-tale motif of a couple who wanted a child for a long time finally ending up with a really weird one.

Imogen and Matilda both had unusually lonely childhoods because, despite both growing up on a farm, they don’t have any siblings. With Imogen it’s explained by Liliana leaving when she’s still a baby and Relvin never remarrying (and since he’s described as in his mid-late 40’s with a 28-year-old daughter, they got married pretty early) but with Matilda I suppose either her parents either couldn’t have more children, or, after all the difficulty they had with her, didn’t want to risk any more. :/

Sooo . . . okay okay okay. If you’re familiar with the show you’ve probably figured out what’s going on here. (If you’re not, don’t worry, Imogen doesn’t know either so it still has to be explained to her as well as the audience. You’re not totally out of the loop here.) There have been a few hints along the way, and a few clever readers picked up on it in advance. (Gold star!)

After Episode 37 I got really excited about the possibility that Imogen coming into contact with Laudna’s soul in the little memory vignettes we see in the shadow realm might have changed, if not the actual past, the memories themselves. (Idk how many people remember this short comic I drew on the subject in between 37 and 38.) Episode 38 did confirm that they managed to influence at least one; she remembers feeling their presence when she was building Pâté, so that a little bit of all of them ended up in him. (Which, given this table, explains a lot about his personality.) But I think, though, that by “it rewrote that memory a little bit” she probably means her experience reliving it in the Domain of Dread and not the actual memory, because she says with them there “it didn’t feel so lonely that time,” so she still has the original memory.

I got really attached to the idea though, and as with my last comic I had kind of wanted to include a slight road-not-taken AU element, something just to the left of canon but within the bounds of possibility presented by it, so it’s not just a straightforward retelling. (Incidentally both twists involved the characters being bonded on a soul-deep level.) Here it’s that Laudna can remember Imogen, in what is still the future for her, meeting her in her past.

That throughout all the loneliest parts of her life she had the memory of this loving presence and a voice that had spoken to her with kindness and told her it was going to be okay. That when she awoke, terrified and alone, from death the first time it was with the memory of having been told, “when it starts to get scary, you just come find us. We’re gonna get you home.” That even in her 30+ years of wandering the earth being chased from hovel to hovel she knew that there was a home somewhere out there in someone who needed and loved her.

I just . . . have a lot of feelings about Episode 37.

It ended up fitting really well with another recurring theme I have planned/written for Laudna in this that will become more apparent as she continues to share her story with Imogen, in that she isn’t a totally reliable narrator, even when she’s letting her into her mind, and she has contrasting memories of why things are the way they are. (Did she, for example, name herself “Laudna” after gothic literature drug of choice laudanum, or because of what she used to sing to Pâté, or, a secret, third thing . . . because it’s what Imogen called her in the past?)

It also, narratively, gives her a reason to come to Marquet in the first place, and gives some direction to her three decades of wandering around. What she said a few pages ago about having been searching for Imogen her entire life wasn’t just romance novel-inspired sappiness. She has actually been searching for her for that long!! (That whole page is probably worth a reread now that you know the thing.)

There have been a few other dropped bread crumbs along the way, which a couple people noticed right from her first appearance when Imogen overhears her thinking that “it probably isn’t even the right town,” implying that she’s looking for one in particular. On the next page there’s also this panel, which, when unblurred by a concussion, looks like this:

Not that significant-looking but it’s also from Episode 37 (and which I only deploy for purposes of inflicting suffering, haha, it is uttered by a 1 hp Matilda in Remember Us too) when Imogen reaches out to Matilda’s mind for the last time and she reaches back in recognition to lay her hand up against hers on the other side of the window.

I think this particular Past Matilda encounter, chronologically the earliest, actually makes the best case for Imogen and the other Hells having reached through the veil somehow. All the other memories they see involve some notable event in her life — she’s creating Pâté, she’s being betrayed and having her heart broken by her first crush, she’s getting ready for the dinner party that’s about to change (and end) her life. But when they meet Matilda at age 3 (an age it’s rare to have many coherent memories of to begin with) she’s not doing anything but playing by herself in the barn. The most memorable thing about it is that it’s the first time she met Imogen.

Now, here’s the conversation from the show with Baby Tillie taking place in panel 1 of this page:

Imogen: Laudna? . . . Matilda? Are you there? Matilda: Yeah? Imogen: I want to find you and help. Can you show me the path? Matilda: I’m just playing by myself. Imogen: Where are you? Matilda: I’m playing in the barn. Imogen. The barn. Is that outside of town? Matilda: Usually. But not today. Imogen: Can you see the tree, honey? Matilda: No, the tree scares me. Imogen: What does the barn look like? Matilda: Well, it’s kind of red, and it’s tall. It’s got big doors on it. I’m up at the top of it. There’s a ladder you take, and I made some dolls. (Pause) Imogen: We’re coming up, honey. Orym: Hey, Matilda. Hey. Are you by yourself here? Imogen: Who are the dolls, honey? Matilda: They’re . . . I made a nice woman, and I made a bird that can take me away from here. Imogen: We can be that bird for you. We can take you away. Matilda: Where will we go? Imogen: Home. Somewhere safe. Is there . . . is there a mean woman around here? Matilda: Yeah. She won’t let me leave. Imogen: Have you seen her lately? Matilda: She’s sort of out that way. (points towards the tree) Ashton: Matilda? Can you tell me about this drawing? It’s interesting. What were you thinking? Matilda: That’s what’s beyond the city. That’s what everything is now. Imogen: Have you tried to leave? Matilda: The tree won’t let me. Orym: You’re going to come with us, Matilda. We’re gonna go. Would you like that? Matilda: The tree won’t let me. (discussion about escaping the barn) Imogen: Matilda, do you have a secret way out of here? (She disappears)

For when we see it again here (which we will eventually) I rewrote it a bit to fit onto a single comic page (and also so it seems less like Bells Hells is attempting to abduct a toddler haha D: ) but the emphasis is the same. She’s alone and scared in a nightmare place and a benevolent presence tells her, “Come home.”

The title of the comic probably makes more sense now. :)

(Kinda mad because I had “Imogen is Laudna’s home” as an overarching theme long before FRIDA slid into Imogen’s DMs with “home can be a person” and now it’s going to be in everything, ever but oh well! It’s been here since the title page.)

[peakdeer]

im sending this ask because i wanna share this concept I had and I'm too shy to post it on main but lowkey shipping wcsmp! cleo and prisamarina as rivals/enemies to lover T-T Idk I view wcsmp! pris as this deceptive seemingly sweet but manipulative person and cleos the only one who knows her true nature and is weary of her and hhhh idk cat and mouse game ensues and eventually pris catches on that cleo knows whats shes up and idk tension go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr and they're intrigued by each other and hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. anyways feel free to write something if you want. i just wanted to share this with someone

Cleo disliked the Water Witch.

The way she twisted her words until they had a totally different meaning, the way she thought herself as so much better than all the other witches, the way she dragged everyone under her spell with promises and lies.

Cleo didn’t see the point in lying. In her years of being a witch—she’d long lost count—she’d never known one to stay hidden. They were always revealed for what they were, ugly and hurtful and so much worse than they had begun.

The Water Witch was like that. Sweet in appearance but nasty in nature. Like a clear pool full of sickness and disease. It looks perfect and tastes syrupy sweet, but turns bitter in your throat and spreads plague through your city.

The Water Witch seemed to have fun poisoning others. Drawing them in on her words and lies, twisting the truth until it seemed false, making alliances and already planning to break them. So many were under her spell—so many thought she was exactly as she seemed—so many were foolish.

But Cleo was not. Cleo, in her lifetimes and lifetimes of experience, knew better.

She knew what the Water Witch—what Prismarina was.

“Water Witch. Hello. What brings you here?” Cleo’s tone was ice cold and suspicious. She didn’t know why the Water Wi—why Prismarina was here, and she didn’t trust it.

“I thought I’d offer you one of those spell tomes! I found one that fit you, and I thought you’d like it as a gift,” Prismarina explained with her sickeningly sweet tone, the one that sounded so deceitful it almost made Cleo throw up.

“Oh! Fantastic, lovely. That’s… helpful. I appreciate it. Let me get something to trade for it,” Cleo agreed loftily, trying hard to keep her voice neutral. She didn’t trust Pris, but it wasn’t wise to antagonize her.

“Oh, you don’t need to pay for it! It’s just a friendly gesture, one witch to another.” Pris used her extra-sweet and extra-innocent voice, the one that said I’m just a small little witch! You can trust me. I will won’t stab you in the back!

Cleo didn’t trust it one bit.

“No, I insist.” Cleo’s tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t trust the Water Witch to not come back and use the gift as a receipt to get something out of her—something to give her the higher ground. She didn’t trust the Water Witch to do something out of the goodness of her heart—she knew that the Water Witch could be cruel; she could be more bitter than she could be sweet.

A flash caught her eye, and she was the Water Witch’s expression twist into an angry snarl, something furious and ghastly and not quite right. Something totally different than the front she usually used.

She knew. And the Water Witch knew she knew.

She knew. And Pris knew she knew.

And Cleo wasn’t sure if they were the same, or if they were different, or if she cared, or why she cared.

It was dangerous, it was. They say time flows like a river—fast and deadly and disorienting. Cleo knew she was. Cleo also knew that Pris—the Water Witch—she—was the same. But it drew her in anyway, the sweet words alluring despite being false, and the hand soft despite ready to stab her in the back.

If she had to be honest, that made it more tempting.

The Water Witch showed up more often, now. She never left without a threat, of course, but Cleo could see her in the corner of her vision, watching her. Cleo wondered if she thought of Cleo the same way Cleo thought of her.

Cleo liked the Water Witch. She was intriguing. Perhaps one day this aspect would make her dislike the Water Witch, but for now, it was just that.

Intriguing.

[weaver-talks-about-dolls]

More Draculaura!

I’m probably missing a release or two, but here are my unnecessary takes on the playline Draculaura dolls that have come out in the past year or will be coming out soon:

💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕

Skulltimate Secrets series 3: Neon Frights

The main thing this doll has going for her is how unique she is. She almost doesn’t look like Draculaura to me and I have mixed feelings about that. Overall my favorite peices that come with this set are the white platform Mary-Jane shoes and the lil laptop. The neon green accents are. Uh. Unexpected?

I feel weird writing this because when I first saw this doll I really didn’t like her but the more I look at the set the more I feel it. Idk.

Also maybe I’m just stupid but I’m kind of confused what the overall concept is behind this series is? Am I stupid?? What are the belt thingies that all of the dolls come with???

💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕🦇💕

2023 Budget Draculaura

Fighting down my instinct to be snobby about budget line dolls, I actually quite like her. I think it’s interesting: overall I feel like a lot of these more recent Draculaura releases go for less of a cutesy-girly-kawaii look and more for an elegant/mature look? Maybe it’s that she doesn’t have the color block hair as often? My main issue with the design of this doll is that the cutesy print on the dress doesn’t seem to match the more mature vibe of the rest of the doll’s style. Also I feel like I *should* like the stupid little lips purse but it doesn’t quite do it for me.

My favorite elements of this doll are her sandals and her darker lip color. Overall she’s kinda fun and different though. I don’t think I’d buy this doll full price, but if I found her on clearance sometime I’d happily add her to my collection.

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Scare-adice Island Draculaura

I like her a lot actually. I have mixed feelings about beach/swimsuit doll lines, but I can’t be mad about this Draculaura (not even her goofy hat with the bat cutouts XD). Lookit her serving looks and drinking her virgin cocktail:

Okay I don’t love her bikini, but I just like her overall vibe. The shoes are lovely. The bag is charming. The sunburst-cobweb earrings are very fun and pretty. I want those sunglasses for myself.

I think this is another doll that gives more older vibes? The intense side part gives strong millennial vibes to me; she doesn’t feel like a teenager here to me and if she is she’s an awkward homeschooler who’s unabashedly wearing fashions that were normal a decade ago because that’s what the fashion examples in her life are wearing. Like. She looks very good and pretty and respectable. Just not trendy? Which is confusing to me in a fashion doll line. (Or are side parts coming back and I’m just not in the loop???)

Also I appreciate that they upped her SPF from 500 to 5000 since she’s actually going to be in the sun XD

Overall she has good vibes though. I want to go to the beach on Scaradise Island with her.

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Faboolous Pets Beasties at the Maul

This one I wasn’t totally sure if she fit here because she technically only comes in a two pack with Clawdeen. She has good classic Draculaura vibes with a twist though and I appreciate that.

For once I can give or take her shoes, but I like the rest of her outfit. Her shirt is very fun and cozy looking. To me the shirt is also a better execution of mixing the mature style a lot of these new releases have with the cutesy aesthetic we’ve gotten used to in this Draculaura. The purse is silly but cute. I love her hair/headband. I like this Draculaura quite a bit better with bangs and the bow on her head is just delightful.

Goblin me just wants every single Draculaura doll that has come out since the reboot. I want to line them all up on a shelf. They would be so perfect.

These two are the most optional:

I originally turned my nose up at the “day out” (budget line) doll, but decided she does have some cute unique things she comes with. I particularly like her chunky heels. “Gore-ganizer” Draculaura is a funny case because at first I didn’t even realize she’s from the reboot (the mixed hair threw me off). Looking closer though, she does have the adorable curvy reboot body so it seems fair to add her to the list. I want to use her coffin box to store nicknacks and I really dig the lil kawaii stickers she has on her face.

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Creepover Drac didn’t originally catch my eye (my favorite from this line is def Twyla) but if I’m making a shelf with every version of her (that can be bought individually) pajamas Draculaura makes a fun change of pace from the others:

They make zero sense to sleep in but the lil space buns are heckin cute.

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Most importantly:

These are the most classic and so far my first two choices:

Basic reboot Draculaura. So darling. She is my gender. I want her shoes.

“Skulltimate Secrets” has A: fantastic packaging and marketing and (more importantly) B: just really darling design in Draculaura’s clothes and accessories. Love the hat. Love both pairs of shoes. Love the puffy bolero. All just so lovely and darling.

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Lastly, there are a couple Draculauras that aren’t released yet:

“Skulltimate Secrets” series 2/“FEARidecent Edition”. Kind of have mixed feelings about this one tbh. From the pics I’ve seen so far I don’t love the ombré pink-white boots and I feel like the iridescent skirt is a weird color for her? I also kinda miss the color block hair. That said at least half of the the clothing and accessory pieces are really knockouts for me. Love the stole. Love the black blouse and black and pink skirt. The wristlet handbag is darling. Also I love the design of the coffin locker better on this one. All in all I feel like this doll goes out on some limbs design-wise which worked better in some ways than others, but overall I enjoy and respect how unique she is compared to the other Draculaura dolls in the reboot.

Finally though. Monster Ball Draculaura, my love:

Just YES. She is everything. The bows. The Shoes. The eighties hair.

Also she comes with a massive bouquet of black roses and a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN. She’s just lovely 😌

Anyways hopefully no one actually read all of that because it was super unnecessary byeeeee 💕🦇

[duskamethyst]

mistakes.

a/n: totally for self indulgence... don’t know how is this gonna do though since i’m not sure if a lot of people has caught up with the manga but i’m pretty sure the fandom has seen him at least once and instantly thirst for him. so, idk what colour his eyes are (i can see blue but fanwiki says green so i stuck with that and in between). this comes with a package of me pointing out how big and buff he is and idc if you’ll get annoyed over it.

word count: 6.1k

genre: AU, nsfw, smut, angst if you squint

warnings: DARK – NONCON, coercion, corruption kink, daddy kink, size kink, choking, mind break, breeding, face fucking, slight dacryphilia, spitting, age gap, degradation, virgin reader, dilf toji manhandling reader

pairing: toji x f!reader

languages available: vietnamese.

summary: you want to surprise your bestie, megumi upon his arrival home from college but things take a terrible turn.

one.

heavy rain starts pouring as soon as you’ve reached the front doorstep of the fushiguro’s household. it was a dumb idea to not bring an umbrella with you despite the sky already starting to get dark when you left home earlier, but you were willing to push your luck and started sprinting once you felt prickles of droplets landing on your skin. with a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the heavy downpour from soaking your clothes.

drawing a deep and relieved sigh, you take a moment to regain control over your breathing before knocking the big front door. aware of the aftermath of the run, you fix your hair with your hands as you wait for megumi to come and greet you. 

college made you and the male to part ways until phones were the only thing that kept you both up to date with each other’s lives. ironically enough, that’s the thing you forgot to bring when you left home in a rush and excitement to surprise your dear friend since he’s coming home today. you can vividly remember the last text you read; he was at the train station and you had to estimate the time of his arrival and the time he would be at home instead of asking him.

however, you’re caught slightly off guard when a different man opens the door for you instead. nonetheless, your lips curl to a sweet smile and there’s a brief of awkward silence before he speaks. you know him, but he doesn’t seem to remember you at all.

“you’re..?” with a tilt of his head, he looks down at you with a curious brow. 

“it’s me, mr. fushiguro!” you offer your name, scrutinizing the expression on his face as his forehead crinkles while he jogs through his memories. then he glances at you and away in thought and back at you again with wide eyes when he finally recalls.

“oh, it’s you!” he ruffles your hair, a bit too enthusiastic in spite of his usual character that you were always familiar with. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

you let out a little laugh, “yeah. i think i was fourteen the last time i saw you, mr. fushiguro. but it’s nice to see you again.”

“ah, yes. i had to go out of town and overseas for business a lot.” toji explains, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly bashful that he didn’t recognize the girl– no, woman before him even when you both have met plenty of times back when you often came to play with his son since you both were still little. 

but can anyone blame him? time works wonders and now the little girl he used to know has grown to be much more mature and gorgeous and so... demure.

“yeah, megumi told me. speaking of him, is he home?” you finally inquire, bringing up the reason why you’re here in the first place. 

two.

“why don’t you come in first? it’s cold outside.” he says before immediately turning around without answering your question. you close the door behind you and follow him closely, also somewhat intimidated when you realize how tall and huge he is– the tight fitting shirt stretches over his wide back and accentuating his physique even more. his arms are toned and popping with veins, not the way you used to remember at least, but you’ve never cared to notice. you’re not certain of his age either, but you’re pretty sure you’d be surprised if you find out.

“do you want coffee or tea?” toji suddenly breaks the silence as you nervously stand in the middle of the room to take a glimpse around the kitchen like it’s your first time being there, completely heedless over his gaze lingering up and down your curves, observing the figure of a girl who just freshly went through her womanhood and your lascivious beauty before he quickly turns around to grab two mugs from the cabinet. 

“anything is fine.” you politely reply, fear of sounding somewhat demanding if you choose your preference despite being offered with choices. 

“come on, you’re giving a man a hard time.” he jokes. “and sit down.”

he’s trying to extend his invitation though intentionally sounding assertive, but when he sees that you are quick to comply and scramble to your seat, he finds it to be... stimulating. at least he knows that you’re docile and he wonders if he could put it to the test. well, doesn’t matter. he will.

“coffee is good.” you smile, interrupting his train of thoughts and he pours the coffee from the pot before walking over to hand you your mug. 

“unfortunately,” he sits down on the chair next to you. “megumi isn’t home right now.” toji puts his lips between the warm mug and softly blows before sipping his coffee. “he wanted to take a short trip to the store but i think he’s going to be stuck there for a while.” he looks out the window to only see pitch black staring back at him along with roaring thunder from the skies.

“oh.” you mutter, taking a careful sip of the hot brew. a little disappointed that you couldn’t see megumi yet, but his dad is right– it’s nearly a disaster outside but you find no point hanging around any longer either.

“is it too bitter? you don’t like it?” his voice laces with concern when he notices your face involuntarily scrunches up at the bitter taste. 

you quickly shake your head, “no, no. it’s fine!” you reassure, afraid that he’ll take offense from the coffee he personally made. “besides, if megumi isn’t here, i–”

three.

“oh, it’s fine if you wait here for him.” he cuts you off. “unfortunately, we don’t have an extra umbrella.” the corners of his lips tug into a comforting smile and you are quick to relax into it. 

you’ve always found toji to be quite frightening when you were young. he seemed like someone who never smiled, always had a sombre and intense vibe to him that no child would be too fond of.  there was no exchange of words between you two, except for your constant brief hello and a smile that you did out of courtesy whenever you bump into him inside his house, even though he never replied anything back. not even a crack on the lips to return the smile. 

but today is different. probably because he finds it easier for him to talk to an adult than a child and you’re relieved that you’re able to humor him in some way.

“so, are you and megumi a thing?” he abruptly asks and glances at you as he sips his coffee.

“no, we’re not!” you titter, waving a hand in dismissal as you bring up the mug to hide your face from embarrassment.

“oh?” a glint of amusement and surprise shines in his green eyes. “are you sure?”

you blink at the question as heat warms your cheeks from the thought of dating your best friend. “yes, megumi and i are just friends. really.” 

“why? because you have a boyfriend?” toji pries, uncaring if he sounds intrusive to you and you only assume that he’s trying to strike up a conversation in some old fashioned way.

you just shake your head and laugh, “it’s not that, either.” 

“hmm,” he props his elbow on the table leisurely, head resting on his fist as he looks at you intently, as if in search of something. “you’re pretty hard to figure out.” 

“what do you mean? i don’t think so.” you smile, bringing up the mug to cover your face again so you can shy away from his intense gaze yet he thinks that it’s endearing and he finds himself grinning unwillingly. 

toji notices how you always try to look away when you get so shy over some simple questions. you’re just oozing with purity and innocence of a maiden and something dark and twisted inside him is craving to violate every part of it. 

“for a start, i can’t figure out why you don’t have one.” he says, tapping his fingertips on the table as his mind is running with sinful thoughts. 

“hmm, maybe because i haven’t found anyone interesting yet.” you finally lock your eyes with his as you answer, not wanting to come off as rude if you keep on talking without looking directly at the man.

“isn’t my son good for you?” he couldn’t care less to be honest; he only plans to test the waters and is even more aroused to learn that you’ve never been touched by a man before and he feels like a wolf that’s just ready to pounce on a lost, little lamb.

“oh, no, no!” why do you have to get so bashful? he’ll fuck you on this table if you don’t stop. “we just don’t see each other that way.”

he’s so lost in his thoughts and carnal desires that whatever you’re babbling seems to go in one ear and out the other.

“then, what do you think of me?” he asks nonchalantly with a smirk plastered across his face.

you blink at him once, twice. “uhh, what?” is he suddenly getting self-conscious? 

“you heard me. what do you think of me?” yet he doesn’t seem like it either.

“umm,” you ponder for a moment as you think of every adjective you can find in your head that wouldn’t come out offensive if you’re going to be honest with him. why would he even ask you such a thing anyways? and why would it matter to him? there’s nothing nice about him that you could exactly pinpoint from the past except for ‘scary’, ‘serious’ and some other things revolving around those.

“i thought that you were kinda... scary?” you blurt unsurely, mentally slapping yourself for even daring to say such a thing to him. unless it’s a vibe that he was going for, then you’d be relieved. 

it isn’t exactly what toji wants to hear but he laughs heartily, “really?” a shiver runs down your spine when he looks at you again, his eyes glimmering with daunt. “but are you still scared of me?”

“uh, no.” you laugh. “you’re actually really nice, mr. fushiguro.” 

“oh, that makes me feel better.” another grin etches on his scarred lips as he draws his gaze to your hands that are tensing and fiddling with your sleeves and your leg is bouncing; a perfect depiction of a trembling lamb cornered in his den– and he’s fucking starving. 

has he got you on edge? are you nervous? good. “but i think you should.”

a lump catches in your throat and your heart drops, “i- what?”

the chair emits a screeching sound and it stumbles backwards as toji abruptly stands up from his seat. sheer panic causes you to rise on your feet too, and your eyes dart to the chair, and the male, back and forth as your mind tries to get a grasp on the situation.

“mr. fushiguro..?” you whisper meekly, taking a step away and around the table as you notice him taking a careful yet threatening inch closer. 

“no, no. i’m not gonna hurt you.” toji (barely) reassures you as he continues creeping on his feet. but the sinister smile on his lips takes out every last bit of faith you had in him and the loud voice in your head keeps telling you to run for the door and never look back– fuck the rain.

 as if he can read through your thoughts, he warns. “but i will, if you run.” 

the smile on toji’s face turns smug when he sees you freeze in place upon his threat. being trapped under the unpleasant situation triggers your fight or flight responses and rapid heartbeat drums in your ears as you stand in trance and trepidation.

“that’s a good girl.” he coos, taking another step forward before you decide to throw a mug at him and dash towards the door as fast as you can. you assume that toji has pushed the table to the floor when you hear a loud thud, followed by his hasty footsteps as he catches up quickly behind you. 

the door that is finally within arm’s reach suddenly changes into a mirage when a strong pair of arms grabs you by the waist and your body floats as it lifts onto his shoulder. the huge contrast between the size of your body and his should let you know; no matter how much you try to resist, he will never budge. yet, your arms and legs still flail around in an attempt to punch and kick him and you’re screaming for him to let you down and just hope that anyone is able to hear your cries in spite of the thunderstorm. 

well, so much for luck.

“ah, ah. you don’t wanna do that.” there’s a mocking and amusing tone in his voice as he advises you. “you should save that energy later. juuust in a bit.” 

“mr. fushiguro– stop–!” you sob, watching your only escape slowly disappears out of sight when he turns to a corner and into a dark room. your body bounces onto a mattress before toji’s huge, ripped figure swiftly looms above yours and ties your hands together with a belt and onto the headboard. at this point, the illuminating lights through the windows are the only thing that aids your vision and you have to rely more on your senses.

“shh,” he shushes you with a finger against your trembling lips. “the neighbors will hear. and if they do, i want it to be because you’re getting fucked so good. so be a good little girl for daddy, okay?”

regardless of being terrified, you find yourself cringing over the nickname he refers to himself. hopefully, he won’t ask you to call him that either. “mr. fushiguro– i– please don’t do this. i- i won’t tell anyone.” 

toji tsks, taking his sweet time to admire your smaller body underneath his– the exposed, soft skin on your neck waiting to be bruised, chest heaving as your breath comes deep and short, and legs pressing together to secure your modesty; though will prove to be futile later. 

“i know you won’t.” his thumb grazes against your lips, mesmerized by its plushness as he imagines it wrapped prettily around his throbbing cock. “are you a virgin?”

you only nod your head, eyes wavering as you look at his darker ones before catching it shine with interest. 

“never had anything inside here?” he asks again, pressing your cunt against the fabric of your pants with his fingers. the dark room makes it hard to see, but your cheeks are turning red from humiliation and you look away before shaking your head no.

“are you sure?” toji’s thumb presses down on your clit and causes your body to shudder apprehensively.

“o-only my finger.” you audibly whisper through the white noise outside. 

oh, how exhilarating. guess the innocent looking ones can be lewd too. don’t you know that a cock would make you feel better? a big cock like his is definitely what you need. just a finger wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you! poor little thing. 

“then i got to teach you a few things, right? it’ll come handy later. boys love girls with experiences.” he promptly strips you off from your pants before carelessly throws it to the ground and kneels between your legs to keep you wide and open for him.

“you like to be touched here?” his finger reaches down to ghost over your clothed clit, observing you with lust filled eyes while you turn away from his gaze and remain unresponsive. “daddy is a very impatient person so i suggest you answer me.”

toji pinches your clit, and your body squirms with an elicited yelp. you can only guess (and hope) that he wasn’t referring to him touching you there but you answer anyway, “y-yes.”

he hums in satisfaction, moving down until his head stops between your thighs and in front of your sex. toji grabs your thigh and spreads them apart before flattening his warm tongue against your clothed bud, causing a shiver to run down your spine and it quickly draws your attention to him.

your face heats up in embarrassment when you see toji’s head dipped in front of your pussy, but he’s only calm and teasing as his jade eyes stare up to lock with yours to look for a reaction.

“you’ve never felt a tongue over here either, hm?” he sneers, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you mentally curse yourself for feeling slightly aroused over his ministrations. 

“just let me go, please.” you try to close your legs, but to no avail when his rough hands push them away.

“you know, if you keep asking for ridiculous things,” toji tuts and grasps your supple thighs hard, nails digging painfully on your skin. “i might have to get rough on you. but you’re a smart girl and you wouldn’t like that, right?” 

“n-no.” you choke and fidget.

“good. because i only want you to feel good.” he offers a gentle smile and kisses the dented mark on your thigh. “so, let’s start over. you haven’t answered me.”

you nibble your lip hesitantly and look anywhere but him, “no.”

“see? all the more reason for me to show you what you’ve been missing out.” he chuckles, tugging your underwear to the side impatiently.

“fuck. such a pretty pussy.” he growls at the sight of your bare cunt. there isn’t a lot of slick yet, but it’s fine, he’ll make you get there. that’s the point of this whole ordeal, right?

your body quivers naturally once you feel the foreign sensation; wet, warm muscle prodding your puffy folds up to your clit and circling on it with the tip of his tongue teasingly as he observes you from below. 

your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are caught between your teeth as you try to restrict your whines from the undeniable pleasure rushing in your veins and he doesn’t stop– your pathetic attempt to deny him and your sentiments only drives him to push you over the edge even more. 

with a harsh suck on your clit, he manages to get you to squeal and you can feel him smirking underneath you. toji flattens his tongue and laps off your juices again before he takes you by surprise when he suddenly slides a finger inside your tight, wet cunt. 

“shh. it’ll feel good, baby girl.” he comforts when he hears you whimper at the pain inflicted and true enough, it soon begins to feel good. you’ve fingered yourself plenty of times before, but it feels different when he does it for you– his finger is thick and long that it reaches deeper than you’ve ever been able to.

toji notices you start to become quiet so he slides in another digit, eliciting yet another sob from you. the warm and moist cunny makes his cock twitch and he finds himself getting eager. your back arches from the bed when toji curls his fingers to stroke the bumpy tissues of your g-spot with every drag.

“feels good, yeah?” he grins arrogantly as your legs tremble under his hold. your breathing has turned erratic and your toes are curling as your mouth gapes in pitiful, broken cries that are just music to his ears. 

“answer me, sweetheart.” he presses down a thumb on your neglected clit, reminding you that he is not keen on being ignored and disputed. 

“y-yes.” you finally choke through pants and shame. though the answer comes out in hesitance, your body is more honest– pussy sopping and eliciting obscene squelches and it’s enough to satisfy him for now. 

your head thrashes side to side as you feel yourself about to tip over but you still refuse to beg toji for a release. 

“hah– fuck!” you whimper loudly when toji oh-so-generously sucks your clit again, fingers pumping faster inside your cunt, making your body feel even more tense with overbearing stimulation before finally pushing you over the edge and you break into a silent scream.

toji laps off your slick before he pulls out his finger into his mouth and licks them clean. 

“that’s a good girl. why don’t you taste yourself?” he climbs on top of you while you gasp for air from the intense orgasm and he easily pulls you into a fervour, sloppy kiss. you can feel the wet slick on his chin and you can taste yourself at the same time as he intertwines his tongue with yours. 

four.

out of spite and vexation, you found courage to bite his tongue hard and toji instantly pushes himself from you, his dark eyes express astonishment and agitation.

“fucking bitch.” he curses as his eyes narrow at you displeasingly before he takes off his pants and briefs to release his cock from its confinements. his cock is throbbing and thick, and you can almost see a trickle of precum on its head. you crumple at the sight as regret and anxiety washes over you.

“don’t worry, it’ll fit.” he says cockily upon the worrisome look on your face. “but since you like it rough, i’m sure you want to choke on it first.” 

“no– i’m sorry!” you shake your head but toji only lets out a scornful laugh as he disregards your pleas and props himself on the knees and over your neck.

toji slaps the tip of his cock on your lips, gesturing you to open your mouth but you purse them into a flat, thin line and refuse to obey. 

“open up. it’s a part of your lesson after all.” he snaps before squeezing your cheeks together. “it’ll get worse if you don’t listen to me.” 

“d-don’t wa-ant to– flea-shh.” you whimper and toji emits a long, deep sigh as he releases his grip. 

“i don’t like repeating myself.” his voice is laced with malice and chills crawls up your spine as his eyes look down at you demeaningly before you slowly open your mouth trepidatiously and wait for his next order. 

“no teeth. i think you’d know that much.” he patronizes before sliding his cock inside your mouth and he hisses as the warmth engulfs his throbbing cock. “that’s it. now, suck.”

and you have no choice but to obey submissively. you slightly lift your head and struggle to take his length as much as you can before running your tongue around to feel each prominent vein.

“i said suck, whore.” he commands through gritted teeth. you hollow your cheeks, compressing his fat cock tight between them as you bop your head up and down. 

“fuuuck, just like that.” toji groans as his hand reaches the top of your head and caresses you softly. you start to pick up the pace, slobbering his dick with so much saliva that it begins to seep from the corners of your mouth and it’s so wet and obscene– just the way he likes it. 

“it almost makes me think that this isn’t your first time.” his head falls back and hips begin to jerk until the tip hits the back of your throat, forcing you to take more than you could. you choke as tears start to well up in your eyes and the bedhead shakes when you try to tug your wrists. 

“what’s wrong? can’t take my fat cock?” he scoffs arrogantly. “you gotta work on your gag reflex, sweetheart.”

the muffles from your throat vibrate against his dick and toji groans in pleasure that he subconsciously rocks his hips, slapping your chin with his balls. your vision has become blurry and breathing becomes harder as you let him abuse your throat and your jaws ache before he abruptly pulls out and you can finally gasp for precious air.

“look at you,” his cock twitches with excitement when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks from your doe eyes and he wipes them away with his thumb, making you flinch slightly, “are you sorry for making daddy mad?” 

toji always tries to articulate each word with appease. it’s never soothing per se when you can sense the threat entwining in his voice and it’s fucking you psychologically.

and it deems to be successful when you’re already trembling in fear underneath him. 

you’re uncertain whether he prefers you to speak or not, but your throat is sore so you meekly nod your head in response. it’s better than nothing, to be honest.

“good. open your mouth.”

your mouth is already parted for air but you assume that he wants to put his cock in again. submissively, yet dreadfully, you open your mouth wider and await for him to shove his cock back in but you’re surprised when toji spits in your mouth instead. 

it’s warm and disgusting; you’re just left gaping and repelled, and you want to spit it out but toji squeezes your cheeks together.

“swallow.” he orders. you quickly brace yourself and close your eyes before cringing as you gulp down the mix of saliva in your mouth and toji releases his grip once he’s certain that you’ve ingested. 

“i could’ve made you swallow my cum but i’d feel bad,” he chuckles sardonically. “what do you have to say?” 

“t-thank you.” you whisper vaguely and he accustoms his face to a simper. 

“good girl.” toji smashes his lips onto yours, yet his eyes are locked with yours ominously for a brief second– a telltale that he expects you not to pull up another stunt before they close as he deepens the kiss. 

obviously, nothing would benefit you whether you comply or defy, not until you’ve catered for his insatiable lechery. but you’ve learned your lesson and although you’re compelled, you finally relent as every ounce of resistance begins to drift from you. 

toji breaks the kiss and shifts lower, peppering greedy kisses on your neck before he catches the soft, chaste skin between his teeth to suck and form purplish bruising marks. he lifts up your shirt over your head and hastily unclasps your bra, causing you to shudder once the cold air hits your exposed breasts. 

large, calloused hands press your mounds before his mouth latches on one perky tit, while the other is tweaked with his fingers. experienced tongue draws circles and sucks punishingly, alternating with the other nipple. the headboard rattles as you keen over the stimulation and your eyes open in dismay when you feel something hard prodding your clit. 

he moves lower and spits on your cunt before propping on his knees to take off his tight shirt– through subdued glow, you can make out the outline of his toned abs and broad chest as his large build towers menacingly in front of you; even when he’s not standing on his feet.

“listen. daddy is going to release the binds, but do you promise to be good?” he asks, smearing the saliva with his cockhead and against your slit.

“yes. i- i promise.” you murmur appallingly; as if you have a choice in the matter.

toji leans over to unrestrain you then he observes you, expecting you to put up a fight but instead, you just remain still underneath him. 

he grins in satisfaction, getting off to the fact that you’ve fallen into submission before he shifts back into his prior position and bends your knees up to line his cock with your hole. a feeling of triumph stirs inside him when he’s reminded that he’s the ‘chosen’ one to defile your innocence.

“stop! it hurts–!” you wail and your hands clench the sheets when you feel toji’s thick cock stretching your virgin cunt slowly, but he ignores you, groaning at the warmth that engulfs him and the tight walls that clenches him as he selfishly pushes through. 

it burns. so bad. your chest heaves rapidly and you screw your eyes shut as your face twists to express pain and uncomfort. “please, please–! i can’t–”

“yes, you can.” his tone is indifferent as he holds you down since your body keeps on wincing until he finally fills you to the brim and he can see a bulge poking on your tummy. 

“fuck. haven’t been inside a virgin cunt for a while.” he mutters under his breath. “now, i know it hurts but i promise you’ll enjoy it. it’s just too bad that you get to have a big cock as your first.” he snickers nonchalantly and leans down closer to your face, making you jolt when you feel it inching deeper.

“if it makes you feel better– you’re fucking tight. just the way daddy likes it.” toji whispers in your ear but you can only freeze in fear and agony.

toji hovers above you, his hands firmly grip the headboard in front of him and he begins to move his hips; thrusting in and out of your pussy. 

your fists clench the sheets harder as a loud cry rips from your throat, “no! it hurts! please!”

but toji doesn’t seem to mind, his cyan orbs stare down at you coldly yet in focus as he relishes over the plush walls clamping down on his cock. 

“stop! stop– i- i don’t want–!” you continuously wail as you writhe in anguish before he suddenly stops pounding and he wraps his hand around your neck instead, instantly drawing your attention to him as he applies pressure in his hold. 

“if you don’t stop whining like a bitch in heat, i will fucking breed you like one.” he warns through gritted teeth, clearly agitated over your act of defiance. 

“you want this. you’re going to love this.” his words are sick endeavours to coerce you into another round of complete submission. 

but what else can you do? toji’s hand is so large that his middle finger and thumb almost reach each other as it clasps around your frail neck and you know he can easily crush your windpipes if he wants to.

“say it. you. want. this.” he seethes.

“i. want. this.” you barely croak each word and they’re slowly influencing your cloudy mind. as soon as he releases you, you soothe the pain around your throat with your hand as you gasp for air.

“fuck. don’t think i didn’t feel you clenching around my cock just now.” he sneers and situates himself again before ruthlessly and steadily continuing where he left off. 

you only close your eyes and bite your lips hard to stop whimpering as you mentally comfort yourself and dissolve every inch of your sanity; i’m going to enjoy it, it’s going to feel good soon, i want this, i want this.

soon enough, toji notices that your muscles have relaxed– suggesting that you’ve finally caved in as pleasure overtakes you so he fucks you deeper and faster before he falls on his elbows and you can feel his bangs tickling your face.

“that’s it, baby. you make daddy feel so fucking good.” he praises between grunts. you can feel the veins on his cock dragging against your walls and he’s right, it feels so good and your lips open in breathless pants.

you find your arms to loosely wrap around his neck and your legs around his waist as if clinging onto him for dear life as toji ruts into your cunny like a feral beast. 

“you like it, yeah? this is what you want, isn’t it?” 

through hazy mind, you can only manage to whimper an audible ‘yes’ as you feel an odd, yet almost familiar knot twisting in your lower stomach begging to snap and your nails dig into the skin of his broad back upon the intense sensation shooting through your body. 

a low, deep guttural sound leaves his throat when he feels your nails sinking and scratching his back– it prompts him to quicken his pace and you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over, causing your back to arch simultaneously. 

“i’m– i’m gonna–!” you keen as your body trembles in anticipation and your sopping cunt is clenching on his throbbing cock like a vice. 

“fuck yeah. cum on daddy’s cock.” toji urges and nips on the sensitive skin of your neck to tip you over the edge and your pupils blow wide as you break into a scream. despite being your second orgasm for the night, an overwhelming euphoria washes over you for the first time of your life; is this what it feels like? you don’t know, you’ve never had one (at least not from a cock) and your pussy is just fluttering, pulsing and creaming around his cock. 

“hah– fuck. good girl.” 

toji remains to snap his hips, fucking you through your high as you’re left in daze from your orgasm. toji can feel his balls tensing and his thrusts are turning sporadic as he inches closer to his climax. your whines and nonsense babbles are drowned by the feeling of pleasure that’s enveloping him and he doesn’t even have the resolution to listen to you gibbering when your cunny is just milking him, sucking him in like it doesn’t want to let go and he just wants to give what your greedy pussy asks for; to fill it up with his thick load until it’s full and leaking out of you. 

and daddy knows best, after all.

“shit– i won’t be able to hold it any longer. say you want daddy’s cum.” he grunts.

you’ve partly snapped out of your daze when you hear his voice again, and though you can’t see his face that’s already buried next to your head, you’re petrified and it’s making you feel dizzy and suffocated. 

“i– n-no. please not–” you sob through your raw throat.

but toji doesn’t listen and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not because if he does, you know that it’ll tick him off and it’s going to do you more harm than good– but you’re scared and it hurts, that you unwillingly start to snivel again.

“shut up. you’re gonna take it like a good cumslut.” he shoves two long fingers in your mouth, causing you to choke on them.

“daddy’s gonna cum in this pretty pussy and you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

toji’s grunts ring in your ears and you’re able to feel his cock twitching inside you before he finally releases hot ropes of cum– filling up and defiling your womb.

“y-you came inside..” you mumble once he takes out his fingers as you’re left entirely devastated and stupefied. 

“fucking did.” he pants, lifting his body up from you and pulls out his cock to shove back the dribbling cum that’s leaking from your abused cunny with his finger. you would wince but your mind is already numb and your body is sore that you can do nothing but burn holes through the ceiling above.

“don’t look so sad.” the room resonates with his chuckles and he gets off the bed to put back on his pants. toji walks over to the nightstand where a pack of cigarettes await him and he puts one between his lips and you can hear the flicking sounds of a lighter as he tries to burn the tip. 

“i can promise you that other guys wouldn’t be rough as me but one thing’s for sure,” he inhales the tobacco and exhales in a gratifying manner, “that will stay as the best fuck of your life.”

fat tears stream down your cheeks and you curl on your side, protecting your now-ruined-body as you quietly sob and your mind takes you back from how the ordeal even started and causes you to end up where you are right now– and it only makes you cry harder.

toji only lets out an exasperated sigh. he grabs his shirt from the floor and throws it on his shoulder before reaching the door.

“megumi won’t be coming home ‘til tomorrow. he said something about the train and the weather, so you can leave when you’re done. you know your way out.”

you hear the door close shut behind him and you’re left in the dark with nothing but the smell of his tobacco and the sounds of the drizzling rain accompanying you as you drown in your thoughts and griefs. 

how many mistakes have you made today? four? five? or more? 

you’ve lost count and you question yourself over again until you’re no longer able to care.

what’s done is done.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

[mxvladdy]

Unrepentant: Chapter One

Yoz! Finally, I sat down and edited this! (Yaay I'm slow as fuck)

I loved writing Diavolo's True Form piece (Located Here) so I wanted more and really to write this headcanon I've had since he was introduced! It is suggested to read his true form before this but you do you and live your best life.

Anyway idk how long this will be but all the true form stuff will be in this fanfiction :)

Hope ya like!

Word Count: 4k

Rating: General

The Devildom moons glint high above you outside your bedroom window. Their perpetual radiance casting dancing shadows across the walls. The solace of your empty room envelops you like a warm hug. It pulls the stress of the day away off your shoulders leaving you sleepy. Dropping your book-laden bag to the floor you flop face-first into the freshly washed sheets of your bed.

Exam season was rolling in fast and all of the academy was gearing up for the students' and teachers' inevitable breakdowns. From personal experience, you saw firsthand what happens when a demon gets stressed out. Even the lesser demons you know can cause some major damage when they reach their boiling point, though it pales in comparison to the havoc the big seven cause. Just yesterday Beel lost control in the middle of cram school after the teacher refused to let them out on time for dinner. Poor Lucifer was still scrambling to pay for the damages and trying to find a replacement in time for next week's lessons. Then, on the same day at the other end of the campus, Satan all but totaled a classroom in a fit of rage after another student dared to try and correct him. Bless the Old Gods themselves that at least Levi and Belphie were easy to deal with during these times. They were both book smart and beyond capable with their studies, they just lacked the wherewithal to put the effort in. Well, Belphie was more guilty than Levi when it came down to it. Most of the time Lucifer could be seen dragging Belphie to class by the ankle, face stormy with rage. It was humorous to watch-just from a distance.

As for you, you figure it was best to just be out of the direct line of fire. One too many brushes with death in the Devildom for your comfort. During this time of year, it became almost a sport. You got really good at dodging large pieces of furniture and spells during exam week when the brothers finally start coming to blows. Not that you fault them, they were just letting their aggression out as any good primordial being would. But, the lack of sleep and constant fear of annihilation by bookshelf is murder on your grades. After a few meetings with Lucifer and Diavolo, you all decide you should stay in the palace till after exams.

The palace.

You smile softly to yourself tracing a thumb over your clavicle. Your finger ghosts over the healing black marks running down your skin. It was rocky at first, rebuilding your relationship and trust, with Diavolo after your "run in". He acts like you were made of spun glass and eggshells, physically trying to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. All the while you had to butt head with seven of the strongest and most bull-headed men you had ever met. Their protectiveness towards you tried your patience in ways you never expected. It took what you are pretty sure was your guardian angel to finally get the brothers to relent. With Simeon acting as your chaperone you start to live again. It was nice to finally feel comfortable around the demon again. Seeing him return to his normal candor and temperament again was a breath of fresh air. Thinking of him makes you flush, the cool air of your room burning your cheeks as you recall all the stolen evenings in his and Barbatos's company. All the hours spent laughing at their outlandish assumptions of modern human social norms while they tried to guess if they were correct or not, and then there were the nights where it was just you and the prince. He was nothing but cordial and proper, just conversations between two friends.

A nice glass of port and dinner...maybe an errant brush of fingers when there was no need to touch a time or two. Perhaps a gaze held too long to be considered appropriate.

You groan into your pillows, feeling your heart flutter. You couldn't deny he was fascinating, and yes, perhaps you were a little infatuated with him. Who wasn't? You say it on the daily how other demons fawn over him. He is one of the strongest of their kin after all. Power is a huge part of the Devildom hierarchy, and he exudes it in spades. To a demon, he is the peak of their ideal. Yet, to you, from a human perspective, you enjoyed his personality and jovial nature. It was a side very few got to see of him and you cherish each moment you got to enjoy in the privacy of his quarters.

Of course, watching him crush an unruly usurper without a second thought was kinda hot. Hmmm-

A sharp rap at your door startles you. Was it time already? "Door's open Simeon!" You yell over your shoulder grabbing your robe and go behind your room divider to undress.

"Good evening!" The angel chirps entering your darkroom. With a wave of his hand, he lights your fireplace. The bright flames dancing to life to chase away the cold of the perpetual night.

"Show off." You come back around your divider to face him. He shrugs with a bashful smile offering you the tray he brought with him. His lithe fingers grab the few bottles he needed, leaving the rest for you. You unscrew the lid on one of the jars of salves specially crafted for you. You inhale, humming in delight, and the fresh scent of honeydew and lavender wafting up at you. "This one is new!" You beam dipping a finger in your eye the soft green goop. It was warm to the touch and made your finger go numb.

Simeon nods, twirling his hand in the air to make you turn around. "You mentioned stiff joints last night so I made something to help." His hand strokes over your back while he mutters to himself. "This is healing up nicely, though the color is becoming more opaque." You nod in acceptance. The curse- taint- whatever it was when Diavolo injured you hadn't stopped at just mental damage when it struck you. It took root on your body, burying itself deep and spreading through you like an uncontrollable flame. It wraps and twists itself around your arms, shoulders, and sides joining and merging with itself to rest around the tender skin of your neck. You found it beautiful in its own right. Like those ornate chokers in Levi's animes or the ones Mammon wore in some of his high-end modeling shoots. Yours was just as gorgeous but very permanent.

"These are coming along nicely," Simeon remarks looking over your back. He rubs some of his sweet-smelling ointment into your sides. He traces over some of the more intricate lines, they radiate power heating his celestial skin in a way you could not sense. The marks pulse in warning, threatened by his celestial power. Simeon frowns, taking his hand away. "It looks like Lucifer marks have been consumed completely now too."

"Really?" You crane your neck trying to see Lucifer's mark at the base of your neck. It figures Lucifer's was the last to be consumed. Solomon had hypothesized that since he was the eldest and thus the strongest it would make sense that it would take longer for Diavolo's blight to consume it. So far he has been correct.

Over time you watch as all the brothers' marks were taken over. Their bright colors bleed out to be replaced with an iridescent black. It was a little unfortunate since you loved the colors of their marks, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Simeon hands you a jar over your shoulder while he inspects the growing marks on your back. "I increased the dosage in this, your arms were still itchy, correct?"

You nod, taking the jar. You grimace as your nails scratch the delicate glass. Your skin wasn't the only thing that physically changed after Diavolo's magic took root. Your nail plates gleam black now, no longer clear and flimsy like human nails normally are. They are sharp now with lethal tips. They could gouge stone like it was tissue paper and even pierce the hard shell of a demon's skin. Beel had been impressed by the nick you gave him during P.E. It healed quickly so no harm was done, but it frightened you still.

Tutting, you shoot your fingers a scathing glance. As a defense mechanism, this new addition was great, but daily life was a pain. Your hands tore through everything if you weren't careful. Delicate pillows and sheets were kept far away from you lest they turn into ribbons. It was beginning to look like the brothers had adopted an unruly cat let loose in the halls.

Asmo fussed over you for days trying to figure out the best way to care for them. He wasted some nice clippers on you until he landed on a heavy-duty nail file. Your manicure only lasts a few days at best, but it was better than turning your pillows into pin cushions. Aside from your skin and nails, you could see better in the perpetual night of the Devildom. The blue haze of the twin moons is cleaner now. Every surface their light lands on shines like a beacon illuminating farther than you could see before. Gave Mammon a good scare walking the halls in complete darkness, you didn’t need a light anymore just the moons.

It was utterly fascinating to you, and Solomon. The mage takes every opportunity he could to poke and prod at your changes and charts them down with feverish excitement. So far, much to his displeasure, you show no more magical prowess than when you first arrived in the Devildom but he was certain you should. For now, no one knew what to expect so you were to just monitor yourself and check-in with Solomon and Simeon daily till they deemed this settled.

"There," Simeon finishes examining your back and neck, making sure he covered the entirety of each mark. "Looks like everything is in order. I'll leave you to rest for the evening." He wipes his hands helping you back into your robe before tidying up the small mess he made.

"You sure?" You ask following him to the door. "I feel like we haven't hung out for ages! I could fetch us some tea." You smile up at his soft face. You miss just hanging out with him. As of late all he has been to you is an on-call nurse. It would be nice to talk with him and Luke about something other than you for an evening.

Simeon smiles but shakes his head. "Perhaps tomorrow, Madame Scream has a few new cakes out this month. Luke has been talking my ear off about them and I'm sure he would love your company too." He eyes the door knowingly. "But for now someone else wishes to steal you away." He bids you goodnight then, leaving you clasping the doorknob and looking about into the pitch-black hallway.

It's in the moment you lock your door and turn to crawl into bed that someone knocks on your door. Your heart leaps in with an indiscernible emotion before beating fast with excitement, your brain following along slowly after it. You couldn't stop the smile crossing your face as you made your way back to the door. Something deep within you knew who it was. "Dia!" You swing the heavy door open and hug him tight. The moment your body makes contact with him you feel amazing. The grind of the day is gone, chased away by his warm arms encircling you. "I thought you were busy all evening?"

He chuckles swaying from side to side. "I was! But, what kind of prince would I be if I didn't throw my weight around every so often?" He leans down and nuzzles his face in your crown. He smiles into your hair. You were smelling more and more like him each day, it was titillating.

Dia breathes deeply taking in your sweet clean scent and savoring how his smokey amber smell was mingling with it. It was faint now, perhaps only strong enough for him, Barbatos and Lucifer can discern. Soon though lesser daemons will take notice of his scent mingling with yours. He makes a quick note to tell Simeon to look into a stronger ointment, it will be needed soon. Diavolo pulls away, clicking his tongue. He glances down at where your nails punched through the thick fabric of his waistcoat to graze his skin. "Do you have time for a drink? Barbatos went topside today and purchased a bottle of whiskey barrel age wine. It smells simply divine ." His gold eyes glance up to the large grandfather clock in the corner of your room. It was far past polite visiting hours, but he couldn't give less of a damn, despite the warning of his closest circles.

The nobles were beginning to notice how much he favored you and thus the court was beginning to talk. They were beginning to question his loyalty to the goal of the program, his fascination with one mere human raised concerns throughout his family members. "Why are you spending so much more time with that one?" They ask claws and fangs clinging as they nash and hiss at him, so many of his bloodline still refuse to use glamour believing it was an insult to their heritage. "They are of no importance, playing favorites could lead to a disaster for your crown." He knows many of them would love that.

For him to lose his neck and the crown so the old ones could rule again was a dream for many of them. Diavolo grimaces inwardly, they weren't wrong either. He was infatuated with you. Even Lucifer was beginning to express concern. While having you and the program was raising his ratings and the morale of the general populace, those of royal blood were beginning to create factions again. So far many were loyal, but the ones starting to make waves were the oldest in the circle.

He had plans in place of course, pieces on the board ready to move at a moment's notice. It would be messy when it happens and with you still in his kingdom...such actions were best to be avoided. No, for now, the brothers were enough protection from potential defectors and nay-sayers. He will do as he pleases, especially when it revolves around you.

"That does sound good," You agree tapping your chin in thought. It's been ages since you last drank a human liquor. All Diavolo's ports and sherries, while delicious, did not affect you. You missed the warmth that settled in your stomach after a good drink. "A good drink could calm my nerves. Give me a minute to change?" You step back into your room to scurry back behind your room partition leaving the massive demon to stand at your doorway.

"Nerves? Do you need more time for your finals?" He lumbers in coming to stand by your bed. He licks his lips staring at your rumpled bedding. It was still warm from you sitting there with Simeon. Deep down in his stomachs turns detecting the cherry sweet scent of the angel covering your sheets. He wanted to rub his body on the bedding, erasing that weakling's scent from what was his- He pulls himself back forcing his fangs back down. He trusted Simeon, no one was better suited for healing demonic wounds than an angel.

The prince observes your shadow scurrying about behind the paper screen. "There!" You jump from behind the screen in an oversized shirt. The fabric drapes down to rest just past your knees, the sleeves long and folded several times. "Ready to go?" You come back to his side slipping on your slippers.

"But of course!" He offers you his arm. "Though I am perhaps a little overdressed for the occasion, no?" He ribs, teeth flashing in jest. You accept his arm squeezing it tight and look him over dramatically.

"Yes, very much so...What good is a nightcap if you are still dressed in your day clothes?" You tug at his pressed white tie. For the first time that day, Diavolo laughed freely.

The walk from your room to his was a long one but filled with idle safe conversation. You jump from talks of the upcoming garden parties to what this week's lunch menu will be. Neither of you was blind to the prying eyes and ears lurking in the shadows of the corridors. You were unfazed by them now after months of coming to visit Diavolo and Barbatos during the evening. You became accustomed to their judgmental gazes and gossip over time. You nod politely to one of the visiting earl's and his entourage. They pass, many eyes looking you over curiously. "Earl Jan and his entourage have taken a liking to you." Diavolo rumbles watching the demons wander off to one of his many smoking parlors. "He finds your many human idioms and stories refreshing."

"Really? I have classes with a few of them they-"

"Young Prince." Diavolo stiffens by your side lurching to a halt. His hackles rise.

"Pleasant evening Lady Marquess?" The prince calls out not bothering to even turn around to acknowledge the baroness. You turn though curious as to who drew such vitriol from the normally genial demon.

The baroness scuttles out from where she had been standing, the shadows around her falling off like an elegant cloak. Her pale mandibles click in distaste when your eyes meet hers. Her hundreds of spider-like eyes latching onto you unblinkingly before flicking to Diavolo's tense back. "You missed our meeting on the upcoming festivities. I have some more requests on the dress requirements for the ball." She pauses head listing down to look at you again. Even without lips, you could feel her scowl of disgust. "It would be good for your little pet. Their dress attire at the last one was... lackluster."

Bull. Asmo and Levi had designed your outfit for the last ball. It had been amazing, the crowds looking on with jealousy and lust as you clung to Dia's arm. You don't have to look at Diavolo to feel his displeasure. "Such asinine topics like that can wait till tomorrow." He sniffs pulling you closer. His free hand comes up to grasp your hand around his bicep. “Good night Madame.”

You keep your eyes forward letting Dia escort you. The Marquess hisses quietly under her breath, something dark and biting in their native tongue. Diavolo goes rigid in head-snapping about inhumanly fast. The temperature in the hallway drops.

"Dia." You call in warning, breath wafting up in great puffs from the chilled air. He ignores you, turning his full attention to the interloper. He replies in turn voice simmering with rage. She wilts, head tilting down into a mockery of the usually appropriate bow when speaking to him. Beneath the fringes of her bangs, you could see a smirk playing on her lips. She struck the exact nerve she was looking for. "Dia," You pull on him more adamantly. "Come please?" His shoulders loosen at your words. His gold eyes drifting down to look at you.

"We will speak of this later matrona." He leaves the matter at that leaving with you in haste. The rest of the walk is tense, his eyes now darting to each shadowy corner in case another guest jumps from them.

"I apologize for that." Diavolo sighs the moment the doors to his private quarters close. He loosens his tie and tosses it to his smoking chair by the fire. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a moment." He smiles at you before disappearing into his bathroom.

You take a seat kicking off your slippers to dig your toes into the plush hide of some animal you didn't know the name of and pour out two drinks for you and Diavolo. Waiting for him to reappear you eye the treats laid out on the table next to you. They looked too good to ignore. Popping a few tarts into your mouth you groan at the sweet citrus and mint creme that coated your tongue. Your ears twitch at the creak of the bathroom door.

Burly arms drape over your shoulders as Diavolo bends to nuzzle your neck. "Too good to wait?" He chuckles. You flush hyper-aware of the sugar cookie crumbs on the corner of your mouth.

"You said help myself." You reply after swallowing.

The prince hums. "That I did." He raises a thick finger up to collect the crumbs around your lips. "Ah- Barb outdoes himself again." He licks his finger coming around to take the seat next to you. Diavolo busies himself for a moment propping his feet up on his footrest and taking the drink you prepared from the table along with a good handful of sweets. Despite his casual demeanor you still could feel his agitation thrumming through your markings.

"I'm sorry." You blurt out. He looks up at you with a frown. "That confrontation in the hall, what the Marquess said was about me wasn't it?" You didn't know what her heated words meant, but the context of the exchange was quite clear.

A glint of pain flashes through his golden gaze. Diavolo goes for his drink, downing half of it in one large gulp. "You have nothing to apologize for. " He licks his teeth deep in thought before dropping his head back with a grunt. "What are politics like in your realm? Are they all-" He waves his glass vaguely.

You sit for a moment thinking hard on what you remember of human politics. "Most countries are no longer run by royal families. Though they still have a lot of sway with laws and the like." You take a sip. "But, back when royal families were more prevalent I would say they were like this." You mimic his little hand wave with a little smile.

"Homicidal and power-hungry?"

"Quite so." You chuckle looking into the fire. "Perhaps I can take you on a mini trip to go visit some old palaces?" Diavolo perks up intrigued.

"Where do you have in mind?"

"Maybe Italy?"

His eyes grow dark. "And why there?" He bites out. You shrug feeling as though you just crossed an unspoken line.

"Just-well. Your name, at least in human culture, is Italian, and you slip into it so casually. I thought you would like it..."

"I am not looking for you to humor me." He cuts you off. His glass thunking heavily on his oak side table, amber liquid sloshing over the side. "I get enough of that from the court. I only wish to spend time with you." You acknowledge him with a faint nod curling into your seat. "Ah-no, no mi giglio." Diavolo reaches for you, scooping you up to sit in his lap. "Forgive my agitation. If it is somewhere you wish to go then I would be happy to take us... The south is beautiful this time of year I hear." A shuttered look crosses over his eyes before he blinks it away. "Shall I get started with preparations?"

He pulls you in closer, your heat seeping through the thin layers of clothes separating the two of you. He feels you melt into the soft planes of his body. His closeness soothing the itching of your bandaged and oiled skin. Dia falls silent listening to you nod off on his lap but does nothing to stop you. Closing his eyes he instead enjoys the feel of his pseudo mark upon your body vibrating in harmony with his magic. Stroking your neck and spine he is unable to control the flood of unwanted memories bubbling to the surface of his mind. As you sleep peacefully unaware of your wishes he spends the rest of the evening watching the flames die down, lost in a waking nightmare.

[pradaksj]

the swimming lessons

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ pairing⟶  jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶  swimminginstructor!jungkook , fluff, a bit of comedy? head canon/bullet points 

❧ rating⟶ e for everyone??? none??? idk how ratings work lol i just know that m = the dirty, which this story has none of

❧ word count ⟶ 5,000 

❧ summary ⟶  accidental swimming lessons with jungkook were definitely worth the money 

❧ a/n ⟶ i literally dreamt something similar to this in like january and told myself i'd write about it when i had the time so hear i am :)) this goes out to all my folks who can’t swim !! i'm on the same boat with you , get it?  cause we can’t swim ... ok anyways ... enjoy ! (note: i have not proofread this yet so sorry for any mistakes!! ill get to it soon !! ) 

“hello, welcome to lucky duck swim school, how can i help you?” the receptionist, who was loudly chewing her gum, sounded more like an automated voice message than a person...

see today was your first official swimming lesson

yay!! 

how fun!! ...

://

totally not embarrassing for someone your age !!!

honestly, it wasn't your fault you didn’t have any family members or friends with a big pool you could learn in growing up 

and by the time you did, you were too much of in an awkward phase to be properly taught

aka your body absolutely refusing to float on its own anymore

but after several trips to the beach with friends and attending different pool parties, you were tired of being made fun of !! 

no longer would you remain at 5 feet and under !!! not on your watch ! 

and so here you were, ready to start your journey into the world of swimming :)) 

“hi i um have a swimming lesson at 3 with um ... i believer her name was um—” 

hmmm what was her name ??? jennie??? no, maybe it was aaliyah ??? no that wasn’t it.... 

the receptionist taps on her keyboard buttons, her long nails making a noise 

pop, her bubblegum goes 

“jungkook” 

“yeah jungkook” you mindlessly say. 

wait 

WAIIITT

jungkook????

ummmmm 

that was not the game given to you by the last receptionist 

jungkook is a boy’s name !!! 

you didn’t want a boy instructor !!! 

not with the way you were looking 

“i um—i had asked for a girl instructor—” you awkwardly mention 

she rolls her eyes

um RUDE 

she continues clacking with her keyboard, looking for god knows what 

she sighs 

“there’s no slots with female instructors available for today, nor for the rest of the month, the earliest i can probably squeeze you in by is july.” she bluntly states. 

JULY??? 

july was when you needed to already know how to swim !!

that’s the peak of summer ! 

there was no point in knowing during winter or any other season besides summer for that matter 

and you were not going to get made of by your friends this year

no no NO

“soo do i reschedule you or.....” 

you sigh 

“no ill take it” you pout, resembling a child. 

“it it makes you feel any better, jungkook’s our best instructor, most popular too” 

wink 

oh yeah that makes you feel so much better 

>:( 

you were going to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of the so called “best instructor” 

“well go get yourself washed up, get into the pool, and jungkook will be with you shortly” she smiles, her attitude now changing now that (what looked to be a supervisor) was passing by. 

what a bi—

flip flop. flip flop. flip flop. 

your sandles press onto the water on the floor of the girls locker room, a grouchy look now on your face 

this wasn't fair 

you made an appointment with a female instructor!! 

you didn’t care if he was the best instructor or the most popular ...

squeeaaakkk , you twist the rusty shower handle

...because now you were you were going to be judged for your lack of skills 

not that you had any to begin with, but still! 

god, you sounded like such a karen ... 

it’s just ...

a guy instructor ??? 

really??? 

you understood that this wasn’t elementary school anymore and boys certainly didn’t have cooties anymore but like :// 

no no, you had to give this jungkook guy the benefit of the doubt

if he was one of the best, it was clearly because he was professional and good at what he does 

putting your worries to rest, you turn off the shower 

this was going to be fine

just fine 

clearly your worries were not put to rest 

just a temporary halt 

:) 

pat. pat. pat. 

okay let’s get it ! 

making your way out to the pool, you dip your foot in 

ooooo 

cold

VERY cold indeed 

1 ...2...

you dip your whole leg in, quickly using the momentum to place your whole body in 

“5 feet and below ... you’re my bitch !!” you think to yourself 

your hand still clearly gripping onto the ledge, still afraid of accidentally reaching 6ft

.... now to wait 

“megan seems to have fractured her leg last weekend on a rollerskating day gone bad, so you’ll be taking up her appointments for the next month of two until she’s cleared for work” 

huh ???

“but—” 

“also she, well now you i guess, have a lesson to teach at..” 

jungkook’s supervisor looks down at his watch 

“oh i guess in 30 minutes, could’ve sworn it was at 4..” he mumbles that last part to himself

30 minutes?! 

“don’t worry i’ll up your pay for the remaining time that she gets better” 

he winks ;) making a clicking noise with his mouth before leaving the staff room 

jungkook sighs 

today was supposed to be an easy day :/ 

a simple cleaning of the pool along with a couple of measly hours of being the lifeguard and that would’ve been it but noooo 

he just had to be the highest rated swimming instructor on the company website 

he couldn’t complain though, sometimes it was fun reading the reviews past students left, even if sometimes they were a little too...

whats the word...

provocative? 

it often made him wonder if he was in fact an actual good swimming instructor or if the high highly rated reviews were for other reasons.... 

honestly it’d be dumb of him not to acknowledge the amount of googly eyes he’d get ranging from the mother’s of his younger students to his actual adult students (female and male) 

he just liked to think that didn’t come into play when they wrote their reviews 

hehe 

changing into his black fitted rash guard, he glanced at megan’s schedule 

name : y/n 

age: 23 grown

swimming level: beginner  aka noob. 

he chuckles to himself 

well won’t this be fun 

he couldn’t lie beginner adult swimmers were always a spectacle to watch 

they almost reminded him of baby ducks learning how to swim 

only that they’d verbally curse their frustrations here and there 

quickly showering, he begins to make his way to the pool 

hmm, he wonders..

what should he eat after today’s lesson? 

a bacon cheese burger sounded really good 

maybe even grab himself some birria tacos from that new restaurant that just opened near his apartment 

hmm no he had to start spending less on takeout 

sigh 

looks like it’d be rame—

woah 

as corny as it sounded, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a beat 

because whoever it was in that pool was pretty, like really pretty 

hOly ????? 

wowzers 

you couldn’t be y/n ... could you?!?!?! 

you were the only person who looked 23 years of age in the pool ...

ermmmmmm 

mayday mayday 

jungkook.exe has STOPPED WORKING  

whoever this jungkook person was, sure was taking their time 

deciding to have some fun before your lesson, you begin to gently play with the water 

swish. swoosh , the water goes 

soon you’d be well on your way to becoming the next michael phelps 

hehe 

maybe with time you’d even be able to a somersault in the water like your friend always—

“y/n?” a voice from behind says your name

ah finally 

taking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the so called “best swimming instructor” 

OH.

MY .

GOD. 

WHAT ?????? 

this man looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine !!!! 

this HAD to be some mistake , there was just no way ... 

your cheeks feel as if they were burning up 

probably because they quite literally were 

there was no way you’d be able to come here every saturday for the next month, not without fawning for this dude every single minute 

“u-um” 

of course you were a stuttering mess

of FuCkiNg course 

“that’s me” 

cue the awkward smile 

:) 

“be professional” jungkook tells himself

at the end of the day, you were his student 

any crush on you would just have to wait until of course ... you were no longer his student 

for now the only goal was : teach you how to swim 

the next one down the list being : to take you out on a date ! 

he offers you a handshake 

wow he had a strong grip 

“i’m jungkook, i’ll be your swimming instructor for the next month” 

he flashes you his all too famous smile

there was just no way this man was real

just nO wAy 

“um..” 

crap, you were still holding his hand! 

idiot, idiot, idiot ! 

“sorry” you awkwardly laugh 

ha ha ha 

so funny 

:/ 

god did you just want to hide to disappear 

“it’s fine” he laughs 

even his laugh was attractive :( 

ugh 

“so y/n, before we begin with anything, i think it’s important to review about what kind of things you already know and what you don’t” 

oh right ... 

for a moment you had COMPLETELY forgotten you were here for swimming lessons 

how embarrassing 

“oh um..” 

um, um , um. 

IS THAT ALL YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY???? 

“so like floating, holding your breath underwater, pushing, gliding, arm movement, that kind of stuff,” he explains 

you knew a cool trick to make it look like you were water bending :D 

of course you weren’t going to admit that here 

silently you nod your head no 

he gives you a reassuring smile, sensing your timidness 

“that’s fine, only more for us—” he corrects himself, “for you to learn,” he laughs 

hey you weren’t complaining 

;) 

“so i personally always like to start off with teaching my students how to float. as long as we get that down then you’ll have no problem learning the rest” 

gosh his smile was so infectious 

shaking your head, you reminded yourself that this was your teacher 

+ you paid 300 bucks for these classes, so you couldn’t afford to be giving him the googly eyes all day 

you were so cute :( 

jungkook couldn’t help but find you so endearing 

the color of your swimming goggles even matched your swim suit :(( 

so cute ! 

“okay so the first thing i want you to practice is going underwater for a couple of seconds, just so you get used it,” he instructs, “i’ll demonstrate” 

taking in a deep breath, he goes down under 

1...2...3 

he’s back up 

pausing for about another three seconds, he takes in another deep breath of air before going back under 

1...2....3...4....5

he repeats the same thing over and over, until the max count becomes 20. 

“use my finger as your reference of when to go up, but come up for air whenever you feel like you need to. it’s important to go at your own pace, so don’t feel pressured to get it the first try” 

no pressure at all 

okay 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“okay, deep breath in”

you sink your head underwater, mentally counting the three seconds before going back up 

“good job,” he gives you a high five, and you almost feel like a schoolgirl, “now let’s try to five seconds” 

woo!!! 5 seconds here you come !! 

taking in a deep breath you go down under again 

1....2.....3....4...5

easy peasy ... LEMON SQUEEZY 

“okay now to ten” 

1.....2......3......4.....5......6....7

umm

now why were these seconds going by slow all of a sudden? 

sucking it up you manage to make it to 10, but not without being out of breath 

“you okay?” he’s quick to ask 

yup, totally fine ! 

you definitely didn’t see the gates of heaven for a quick moment :D 

nodding your head, you enthusiastically say, “let’s go for 15″ 

he smiles at your enthusiasm

ahh so cute 

“1....2.....3......4......5.......6......7......8......9.....10.....11.....12....13...

nope nope nope

you were not going to make it to 15 

immediately you make your way back to the surface, trying to catch your breath 

“hey you did amazing,” he immediately reassures you, “remember as long your going your own pace then you’re doing just fine” 

<3 

well doesn’t that make you feel better 

you wonder if he’s this kind to all his students 

besides the most obvious reason, there was no question as to why he was the “most popular” instructor 

and to think you had been complaining earlier !! 

and soon you’re back underwater, going at your own pace until finallyyyy you’re able to make the 20 second count 

“nice !!” he genuinely celebrates with you, making you feel completely proud for yourself 

“okay now that we have that done, we can move onto learning how to float facing both front and back” 

ohhhhh

he was just thinking ahead 

cool :o 

“so what i want you do is first relax,” he laughs, gently pushing your stiff shoulders down 

as if your blush couldn’t get any deeper 

“now my personal belief is that all humans can naturally float, just that for others, it takes a bit of a push to get them at that state,” he begins to explain 

others meaning people like um you 

“the key to floating is to relax” 

oh you’ve heard that before

many MANY times and each time you’ve tried to so called “relax” you just end up sinking 

“the moment you fight or stress for even a tiny bit, you will sink. now i know what you’re thinking, ive heard that before” 

damn 

he was good 

“but sadly it’s true, until you learn to relax then you’ll be able to swim” 

you sigh 

this was where it became hard 

you were the queen of stress 

you and stress went hand in hand almost like a married couple 

it was just that deep water was scary !! very very scary !! 

the amount of horror stories you’d seen on tiktok was enough for you to know, ocean = scary 

“so here’s what i need you to do, i need you to place your arms on top of the water like as if you’re going to fly” 

you follow his commands 

he separates your arms, which had been too close together, giving them a small rub 

“remember you need to relax y/n,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in your arms

“relax, i need to relax,” you repeat 

“okay now right now when i tell you, you’re gonna take a deep breath in and look down, from there you’re gonna let you body move forward. so remember you’re not gonna jump, you’re just gonna let your body glide forward and float. almost as if you’re flying to me,” he explains 

mm it was easier said than done  

“you ready?” 

“okay deep breath in” 

you inhale a deep breath in 

“look down” 

you do that as well 

“and let go” 

slowly your body begins to rise on its own 

oh my god !!!!! 

you were about to float!!!!! 

the day has come !!!

no more staying at 5 feet and under 

you were ready to hang with the big kids :D 

but as quick as the momentum came, the faster it left because soon you felt yourself sinking, the breathing exercise jungkook had made you do now coming in handy 

no!!!! 

you almost had it :( 

it was right in your grasp, only to have it snatched away 

not wanting to offend you, jungkook keeps his giggles to himself 

“hey at least you almost had it,” he comforts you, “let’s just try again” 

you sigh, now letting your doubts creep in 

because of this, this time your body almost immediately sank this time

he frowns 

you were losing confidence :/ 

“come on i’ll help you” 

grabbing your hands, he signals for you to follow his breathing pattern

“deep breath in” 

“deep breath out” 

god, was his voice soothing 

“i need you to relax y/n, let everything go” 

a soft feeling of relaxation washes over you, similar to that feeling you’d get when you were on the verge of sleeping

“i’m gonna let you go at the count of three, and then you’re going to float, okay?” 

silently you nod, knowing that speaking would only cause you to tense up again 

“1...2....” 

he lets go, and soon you’re floating, just like he said you would 

you hold your breathe for a good while before standing back up, a huge smile on your face 

“holy shit! i did it!!” 

he gives you high five with both of his hands, for a second holding them before letting go 

“now let’s try floating on your back” 

he notices that there’s now a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before

clearly you were now more determined to learn, excited too

preparing yourself to float once more, you realize you were missing something.... 

“jungkook...” 

he tilts his head, confused by the faint blush on your cheeks 

“do you think you can um—” 

now it was his turn to blush 

“o-oh yeah” 

what was his problem??? 

you were a student asking for help 

that was all ...

point blank. 

he helps you get on your back, his hand placed under your back as a way to keep you up 

“1....2....” 

you float easily again!! 

“nice!!” he smiles 

summer, here you come !! 

“okay so we’re gonna keep practicing that for the remaining time that we have and next week i’ll start teaching you about stroke techniques and which ones are easiest to do” 

nodding your head, you practice your floating by the end of the hour  having it practically mastered 

the two of you get out of the pool, now drying off 

“you’re a really fast learner y/n,” he compliments you 

hehe 

you mean, you didn’t wanna brag butttt 

you were a fast learner indeed 

“thank you,” you say in return, “but that’s only because you’re a great teacher” 

woah 

did you really say that :o 

aren’t you feeling a little bold today y/n  

his blush returns for the second time today

well technically you weren’t in class anymore ... 

a little flirting wouldn’t hurt right? 

if only he knew what to say .... 

hmmmm 

“well at least you won't ever drown!” 

HUH???????

jungkook, you idiot !!!!! 

someone needed to smack him straight in the face for that ! 

at least you won’t drown????

no fucking shit 

well there goes his chances with you now going down the drain 

but to his surprise, you laugh 

“you’re right, i won’t,” you say in return, “well i’ll see you next weekend jungkook” 

you flash him a smile, and he was certain he felt butterflies in his stomach 

walking into the girl’s locker room, you let out a sigh of relief

wheeeeew ! 

faking confidence was hard ! 

very VERY hard 

“so today you’re going to learn how to stroke so you can officially be called someone who knows how to swim, next week you’ll learn to tread water and continue perfecting your swimming, and then the final week i’ll teach you some fun extra things” 

“sounds good,” you say, definitely excited to learn more. 

“okay so now that you know how to float, right now when you float facing downward, you’re going to pull against the current with your arms, alternating each one. now the tricky part is that while you do that, you also have to paddle your legs a little and come up for air when you need to, and when you’re back in the water you should slowly be exhaling bubbles of air rather than holding your breath” 

well that sounded hard :/ 

“let me give you a demonstration,” jungkook says

he’s quick to float facing downward, showing you the maneuver he wanted you to learn while coming up for air every five seconds

thought it was a little childish, he somehow still looked good doing it 

he truly was blessed with the looks of a god 

he comes out the water

“okay now your turn” 

you nod your head, that determined look you had on your face last week now returning 

following his example, you begin your attempt at paddling and stroking your arms at the same time

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH! 

immediately you begin to panic and water begins to splash everywhere, including on jungkook 

noticing your panicked state, jungkook is quick to grab you and place you back on your feet 

“hey hey, i got you,” he comforts you, not wanting you to feel discouraged 

you sigh 

:/ 

well that was embarrassing 

“remember y/n you have to learn to coordinate everything, so think of it this way. your legs have to always be paddling, it’s the arm and coming up for air that switch roles. when you come up for air, it’s only your legs paddling, while when you’re head is back underwater it’s both your legs and arms paddling. once you get that pattern, the bubbling will come naturally” 

you make an ohhhhh face

you could do that ! 

“remember what i told you last weekend y/n, you need to relax and be comfortable so you can build confidence. there’s no need to panic because i’m here,” he smiles at you 

gosh this just wasn't fair >:( 

cute and charming ???? 

this boy really had it all 

not wanting to disappoint, you try one more time, failing once again 

now you were frustrated :/ 

“damn it,” you mumble to yourself, a sadness to your voice

jungkook feels his heart swell 

he didn’t like seeing you sad :( 

but doggy paddling was the most basic technique he could teach you so he couldn’t really cheer you up by offering a different technique 

you needed to learn to doggy paddle before you could move on to the more bigger strokes

damn it ://  

“hey don’t feel bad about not getting right away,” he gives you a small smile, “i remember when i first started learning it took me forever to even learn how float, so the fact that you’re already at this point is enough of an accomplishment” 

well that makes you feel little better ... 

“but you were probably a kid, im ...” 

old , is what you want to say 

figuring what you were gonna say, he only laughs 

“who said i was a kid? i was probably like 19″ 

whaaaaaattttt! 

assuming he was your age (which he was), you do the quick maths in your head 

that was like .... 4 years ago ! 

how the hell did he get so good in such little time???? enough to be teaching courses ??? 

“not knowing how to swim is nothing to be embarrassed about y/n, if anything it takes a lot of courage to even sign up for a class so don’t beat yourself up too much for not getting it right away” 

he ruffles your wet hair, a small affectionate gesture 

you didn’t know how it was possible but you were falling for this man and QUICKLY at that 

he was just so ??$%@^! 

UGHHHH

“so let’s try one more time, and if you still can’t get it then we’ll push it to next week, a free extra lesson on me” 

eeeeek 

though the temptation to purposely fails was very intriguing indeed, you still had to try for the sake of it 

if you got it, you got it, and if you didn't well .... 

an extra week with jungkook it was :D 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“1...2...” 

you float and begin to paddle, this time actually getting the hang of it !!!

you hear jungkook’s muffled voice from above the surface, “there you go!!” 

holy shit ! 

you officially knew how to swim !!! 

at least enough to save your own life if push came to shove 

once you were out of breath, you stand back up, a grin on both of your faces 

for jungkook it was hard not to tackle you in excitement so instead he settled for a very enthusiastic high five 

“you did it!” he cheers 

“ahhh!” you giggle like a child 

“from here on out, the rest is a piece of cake!” 

yay yay yay !!! 

“now let’s start working on deeper strokes, maybe we’ll even have time to throw in backstrokes!”

:////

noticing your changed expression, he awkwardly laughs while scratching his neck 

“or maybe not” 

this week was the final week of swimming lesson with jungkook

:(( 

last week’s lesson of treading water and perfecting your swim seemed to had gone by in literally the blink of an eye ! 

and so today was possible the last time you’d see jungkook unless you managed to grow the balls and ask him out once that clock hit 4, once you were no longer his “student"

by now you were 100% sure you liked the dude... like a lot 

and he was definitely someone you wanted to get to know outside of this pool 

you just weren’t sure if he liked you the same way 

you mean yeah there were definitely times that had you raising an eyebrow here and there, but you always excused it as him simply being a kind hearted person by nature 

because clearly his five star rating on the company’s website had to come from somewhere 

not that you checked or anything....

who were you kidding 

yes you did

your favorite review was the one that went..

“wow!! this dude is amazing !! came here for beginner lessons and even i found myself fawning for the dude , and i don’t even play for that side of the team !! not only were his lessons thorough, but he’s a very charming person ! 10/10 recommend!” 

and so you were stuck 

did he liked you or was he just treating you like he treated everyone?? 

“ahh y/n,” jungkook’s voice suddenly brings you back to reality 

“today’s our final lesson!” he announces, not sounding too sad

in fact he sounded excited  

damn :/ 

he playfully jumps into the pool, today being his so called “fun day” 

“so since today’s your last lesson i thought i could teach you how to do a.....” 

he pauses for dramatic purposes 

“SOmERSAuLT!!”

immediately your eyes light up 

ahhhhhHHHH!!!! 

you always wanted to learn how to do a somersault in water, remembering the number of times you’d look at your friend in jealousy whenever she did one 

“you ready??” 

eagerly you nod your head yes

“okay so the steps to doing a summersault is first of course, you need to take a deep breath” 

okayyyy 

“from there you tuck your chin to your chest, next you do the moment of the somersault by swinging your chest forward and gently kicking out your legs, so basically forming a ball and then kicking out.  naturally, if you have enough momentum, you’ll spin, but if you don’t just use your arms to complete it” 

“think you can give me a demonstration?” you innocently ask 

he winks at you, “of course i can” 

taking in a deep breath, he follows his own instructions, and you watch he perfectly executes his somersault 

“woahhh, that was so cool!” you say, even now finding the trick to be amazing 

“now i dont expect you to get it right away, so right now that you try i’m going tog hide you thought the movement so you get the gist of it” 

sounds fair enough 

you weren’t trying to drown on your last day either 

“okay, you ready?” 

“yes” 

“let’s get it!” 

taking a deep breath in, you feel jungkook’s hand get placed on your back, ready to push you so you could do the somersault 

“1...2...” 

and slowly you feel yourself spin with the help of jungkook, a smile already forming on your face 

“ahhh!” you smile big and wide, causing Jungkook to smile along with you 

“you think you’re ready to try it on your own???” 

“yes sir” 

“okay 1....2....” 

mustering up as much as force you possible could, you push yourself into ball and successfully do the somersault 

YUPPPPP 

WHOSE DOING IT LIKE YOU???!$%@$!

feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline, you begin to splash water all over once you come back up for air, declaring an all out water fight with jungkook 

soon the two of you are chasing one another, you now using your new swimming abilities to get away 

hehe 

you’re a swimmer 

:D 

the sound of jungkook’s infectious laughter fill the air and soon you feel him grab your waist at an attempt to stop you 

“gotcha” he says, and he turns you around to face him 

slowly each other’s heavy breathing becomes relaxed, and it’s as if you’ve felt a shift occur in what you considered your new “friendship” 

“so....” he awkwardly says, hands still wrapped around your waist 

his was was RED

like cherry tomatoes red 

this only makes you giggle 

if you had doubts before, you DEFINITELY didn’t have em anymore 

he liked you :)))) 

and you liked him :)))) 

and in ten minutes you were officially no longer his student so......

“there’s this new restaurant that opened near my place....” you say 

immediately his eyes light up 

“cancun eats?” 

you nod your head and he gives you a toothy grin 

“i was wondering if you’d want to go out some time...” you muster up the courage to ask him out 

%^@%!@&!@^&@%! = jungkook’s brain 

holy crap !!! 

you liked him!!! 

he wasn’t just delusional !!! 

“hello?? jungkook??” you laugh, waving a hand in front of his face for jungkook.exe had truly stopped working this time 

nodding his head yes like a child,  the two of you being to lean closer to another, the clear goal in mind being each other’s lips

because honestly you’d come this far now, might as well give him a .... 

“wait!” he suddenly interrupts  he glances at the digital clock on the wall, remembering your final lesson officially ends at 4

because no way in hell was he going to get fired for kissing a student on the clock 

3:59 

.....

4:00 

“okay now,” he smiles, and you only roll your eyes, happy to have taken up on those swimming lessons. 

a/n : i was gonna make this longer but this was always meant to be a small little head canon so :))) pls give this a like, comment, or a reblog if you enjoyed it !! (if u can of course) and my ask box is always open for whatever !! :)) see yall next time 💞

[autisticandroids]

I appreciate you being Dean concerned and not Dean critical. I’m sure you’ve already answered this before but what do you genuinely like about him? A lot of his good traits get twisted in your meta (and in the show) which is really interesting! But like. What about him do you just think is neat?

Also, you don’t talk about Sam a lot but I’m rewatching season 8 and it really feels like both a continuation of preseason one -> season one (Sam has a normal life, Dean is gone -> Sam wants to return to his normal life but Dean coming back gets him back in the game) which also gives it finale vibes :(

Besides the fact that the stuff with Amelia is really boring, it all just feels ooc and like a step back for Sam. Not to go on a rant but Sam seemed to finally make peace with his life back in season 7.

The stuff with Amelia also has both the same and the exact opposite energy as the stuff with Lisa. During his time with Lisa, it was always like Dean had one foot out the door back to hunting. During his time when he goes back to hunting with Dean in season 8, it feels like Sam always has one foot out the door back to Amelia.

That and I just can’t bring myself to give a shit about Amelia (maybe because she’s boring and inconsistent, maybe because info about her is drop fed instead of presented mostly all at once like with Lisa in season 6, maybe because she’s just shoved in for something for Sam to be up to and it feels ooc to me idk)

I thought I’d like season 8 (and I do really like a lot of Cas’ stuff but he’s always my favorite anyway so that was basically gaurenteed) but a lot of the stuff just makes my brain feel like a white noise machine. I’m only on episode 10 so I’m sure it’ll get better for me once the Sam stuff gets resolved but for now it’s very.... eh.

Thoughts?

okay so, what i like about dean. hm. that's hard! i love dean, for all sorts of reasons, and i know i'll miss stuff, but: - he charms me, on a sort of pure, animal level. he's very charming, that's true within the show but it's true for the audience, or at least me, as well. he's funny, he's affectionate, he's sweet, and he tries so hard. and it makes me love him - he's compellingly tragic. like dean is a fucked up guy, he hurts both himself and everyone around him because of patterns of trauma an neurosis he can't break out of. no one wants to be a bad guy, no one wants to hurt the ones they love, least of all dean, but he can't stop doing both those things. like his self-made cage of ideology, emotional repression, and control is killing him, and it's killing everyone who doesn't get away from him, and that's sad! it's awful! no one is winning except dean's self-image. he will sacrifice everyone and everything he loves on the altar of never having to re-evaluate himself. or, i hope he won't. but he might! and that's sad! it's the perfect tragedy! - second hand deangirlism due to cas kinnie disease. men will be the first person who was ever nice to castiel and then me and castiel will love them forever about it. - he is my little puzzle box and i will solve him - straightmarried gf i liked that sam ran off and tried to escape The Life in s8, that makes sense to me. i think sam really fundamentally doesn't want to be a hunter and the only reason he gives up on trying to leave post s8 is that it is impressed upon him that he's completely trapped. he can never be free. dean will always drag him back, kicking and screaming. i actually feel like sam's equivalent to lisa isn't amelia, it's jess. i talked some about that here but like. both jess and lisa were kind of synecdoches for a false ideal of the american dream, each in their own way. they're both images of suburban perfection, and what draws the winchesters to them is the desire to fit into that image.

but comparing lisa and amelia..... like, dean promises sam that he will go try to make a normal life with lisa, and then he does, because that obligation is all he has left to cling to. like dean is nothing but a miserable little pile of duties and tasks, he doesn't know who he is without a chore (see: demon!dean's total directionlessness) and lisa is the last promise he made to his brother, so he fulfills that. she's an idea to him, not a real woman. the thing he's clinging to, in sam's absence, is not lisa, but the idea of a normative suburban lifestyle. but then the moment sam shows up and voids his own last wishes, dean is like okay bye i don't need to fulfill this obligation anymore. like he was never all that interested in lisa. he didn't love her and his relationship with her was built on obligations, normative images, and anxiety over her safety, which finally resolves itself in dean horrifically violating her by asking cas to wipe her memories.

whereas sam is with amelia because he like, meets her and they form a connection. they hit it off. and sam has a pattern of like. when he wants to get away from something, especially if dean isn't around, he jumps into bed with the nearest girl who smiles at him and then forms a super intense with her. his early season one-off love interests, ruby, and now amelia. (amelia is actually kind of the last time he does that, because after season eight he gives up trying to escape for real). but what he's clinging to there isn't an image that he's trying to fit into. it's the girl herself. like he likes amelia and he wants to be around her and he dives into like. spending time with her and building a relationship with her. and like amelia is a real woman and sam sees her as a real woman. like she's a fucked up mess and so is he and they connect. like she's a bitch and she clogs her drain with limes. also #MyGirlfriendsHusbandFightsForYourFreedom. like samelia is a little boring but i don't begrudge sam that. it's almost compelling because it's boring.

i'm actually not a huge season eight guy myself but my issue with it isn't samelia.

actually, and this is a complete tangent, can i bitch about season ten for a second? like. okay. seasons eight and nine are about sam learning that dean will never let him go. that he's trapped forever in the hunting life and trapped forever with his brother, that dean will do horrific things to him in order to keep them together. and slowly just... giving up. deciding to relinquish his dreams of getting out once and for all.

and then season ten rolls around and suddenly sam makes a hypocrite of himself? suddenly sam is the one who will go to any lengths to save dean, even against dean's own wishes? NOT believable. like sam should be like. sad and fucked up about it, but letting dean go his own way. if anything, cas should be the one trying to save dean against his will, that's way more cas' move. like there's definitely a certain level of cas -> dean :: dean -> sam that exists in the show, at least in terms of protective fixation. cas is somewhat more respectful of dean's boundaries and autonomy, but he's the one with a pattern of blowing up at dean for being self-destructive etc etc.

like, sam should have been way different in s10. i don't know exactly what i would do with him, maybe give him his own distinct plot? or maybe have demon dean last somewhat longer and make "demon dean tries to kill sam" a whole multi-episode arc, i think that would slap. and then the relationship fallout from that can be many more episodes.

like imo this happened because jeremy carver got his start in season three, when sam legitimately was trying to save dean against dean's wishes, but in s3 that made sense. like, one, the brothers were much closer then, dean wasn't quite as much of a prison guard for sam, but two, much more importantly, dean's deal was sam's fault. he blamed himself. he wasn't just trying to save dean from dying, he was trying to save dean from going to hell because of him. like girl, it made sense in mystery spot. but this is not the energy you should be bringing to the table with sam in s10. ooc!

[enmy-writes]

Just Let Me Help You

Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.

Word Count: 2728

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.

****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****

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They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.

(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.

“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.

“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.

The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.

Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.

“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”

His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.

“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.

She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.

____________________________

Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.

“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”

“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”

A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.

The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.

(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.

The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.

His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.

When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off;  barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.

Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.

When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.

“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body. 

“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”

A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.

Everything happened fast.

(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.

The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.

The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.

“Baby… it’s okay—”

“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.

“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.

"Promise?" Zuko whispered.

"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure

They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.

_________________________

Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.

She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.

Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.

Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.

In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.

In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.

“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.

With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff. 

"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest. 

Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.

"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”

She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”

“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.

“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”

"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"

"—but I wasn't Zuko!"

"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.

Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak

“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."

(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.

“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”

“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”

“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”

“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”

Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.

A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.

Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”

Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”

Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”

“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.

Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.

“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.

The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”

And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.

“I hate you.” Is all he says.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.

“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”

Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

“I’ll always help you… stupid.”

[enthusiasticharry]

The Secrets You Keep

summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?

request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X

word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry! 

masterlist    |    asks

It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could. 

“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.” 

“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips. 

“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.” 

“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.” 

“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.” 

“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.” 

“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible. 

It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it. 

“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name. 

“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.” 

“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled. 

You certainly did. 

The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.

The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.

It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter. 

You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could. 

“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?” 

“Uh. . .” 

“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.” 

“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.” 

“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.” 

“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand. 

There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting. 

You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at. 

As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.

You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed. 

A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened. 

“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.” 

“Bye.” 

You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.

The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle. 

“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth. 

“Thank you.” 

You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this. 

“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly. 

You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.” 

“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.” 

“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.” 

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.” 

“Better not.” 

It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has. 

“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.” 

“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.” 

“Men are pigs.” 

“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.” 

“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”

Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it. 

“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?” 

“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.” 

“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.” 

“The businessmen not up too much?” 

“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.” 

You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.” 

“Totally.” She snorts. 

“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.” 

Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.

Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café. 

“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?” 

“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.

This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public. 

“How have you been?” 

“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?” 

“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.” 

“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.” 

“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.” 

“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.

“No complaints about that from me.” 

“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.” 

“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.” 

He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on. 

“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?” 

“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.” 

“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?” 

You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier. 

“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?” 

“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.” 

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.” 

You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.” 

“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.” 

The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised. 

Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you. 

“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.” 

“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?” 

“Uh. . . yeah.” 

“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.” 

You swear you felt your heart burst. 

During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh. 

Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating. 

Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well. 

Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you. 

In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks. 

Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you? 

You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that. 

I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do. 

In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself. 

You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people. 

If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes. 

You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.

I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you. 

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out. 

Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8? 

You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list. 

Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere? 

Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai? 

Italian sounds good. 

Great. I’ll send you details over. 

Thank you :) 

See you then, YN. Sweet dreams. 

Night, Harry. 

You slept well that night. 

“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.” 

You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it. 

“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.” 

“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.” 

“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.” 

He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.” 

“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.” 

“Yeah but—”

“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.” 

“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”

“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.” 

“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.” 

You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it. 

He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him. 

“Ruby will cover your shift.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!” 

“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.” 

“Anything. Well not anything.” 

“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.” 

“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record. 

He nods, “Just that.” 

You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” 

“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.” 

You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it. 

“Have fun at your thing Friday.” 

“Thank you. . .?” 

You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you. 

Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather. 

You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place. 

The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club. 

The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.

You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days. 

“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him. 

“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.” 

“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.” 

You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.” 

His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more. 

“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table. 

“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.” 

“Nervous for what?” 

“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous.” 

In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could. 

“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.” 

“You don’t really know me.” 

“I’d like to get to know you.” 

That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking. 

You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?” 

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.” 

“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.” 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” 

“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.” 

“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.” 

“I do.” 

You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to. 

He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much. 

“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.” 

He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.” 

“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”

“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.” 

“I know.” 

He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. 

You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.

“Want your words, darling.” 

“Please kiss me.”  

You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath. 

“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks. 

“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his. 

“Good.” 

You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips. 

You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.” 

“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.” 

“Okay.” You reach for the door handle. 

“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?” 

“I’d love to.” 

He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.” 

You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night. 

You couldn’t wait for him to return home. 

Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain. 

You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job. 

Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time. 

You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay. 

Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly. 

“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.” 

“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.” 

“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.” 

Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage. 

The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do. 

You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room. 

Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself. 

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite. 

He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight. 

You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more. 

“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.” 

“To get my hands on her.” 

Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him. 

“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked. 

“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.” 

“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.” 

“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.

Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts. 

Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin. 

If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.

You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that. 

You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances. 

“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.” 

You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.” 

He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.” 

“Really?” 

Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.” 

“Thanks.” 

He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped. 

You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate. 

You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly. 

Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either. 

“YN. . .” He sounded breathless. 

“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.” 

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.” 

“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over. 

“A Birthday party.” 

“Yours?” 

“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.” 

He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard. 

After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.” 

His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?” 

“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.” 

“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.” 

“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.” 

“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”

“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.” 

“Change my mind about what?” 

“Wanting too, you know. . .?” 

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.” 

“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye. 

“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.” 

“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.” 

“You don’t.” 

“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.” 

“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.” 

You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you. 

You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life. 

“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?” 

He hums, beaming a smile at you. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”

You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.” 

“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.” 

“Please.” 

“I’ll see you then.” 

You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him. 

Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips. 

“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his. 

“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?” 

“Upstairs.” 

You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going. 

Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed. 

The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so. 

Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers. 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. 

“What are you planning?” 

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?” 

He groans, “Anything at this point.”

You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?” 

“More than okay, baby.” 

You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances. 

You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail. 

“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could. 

Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling. 

“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.” 

“Good.” You giggle. 

He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more. 

“Fuck me.” 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch. 

He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear. 

“Is this okay?” 

“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material. 

He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm. 

“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.” 

He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so. 

“No fair.” You whine. 

“Life isn’t.” 

“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed. 

You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.

“Are you sure?” 

“More than okay.” 

He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound. 

“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.” 

“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.” 

He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. 

“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips. 

“Feel so good, H.” 

After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so. 

“Fuck, shit, oh god.” 

He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before. 

“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.” 

“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off. 

“You should keep secrets from me more often.’ 

“I’m never doing that again.” 

“Good.” He pecks your lips. 

[anxresi]

I could line my wall with all the posts Thomas has made about Chloe tonight. (around 50, by my count)

If you wanna read them, don’t bother.

I certainly won’t be sharing any of them

What would be the point?

Because basically, they amount to one thing...

Chloe is bad, and we’re bad people for liking her.

That’s it.

And for anyone thinking that he kids around a lot with his comments...

I’m pretty sure this is something he feels VERY strongly about.

Or he wouldn’t expand so much energy in constantly talking her down.

So no, I don’t think we’re going to get a Chloe redemption.

No, I don’t think she’ll be Queen Bee again. 

No, I can’t see any real change in her behavior.

She’ll just remain the same ol’ hatable Chloe, the ‘evil’ girl that young kids apparently ‘get’ that adults don’t understand...

Yep, apparently we’re ‘dumb’ for wanting her to improve and develop!

To provide a good example for bullies out there that they can be more than just abusers all their lives!

Children couldn’t possibly grasp the delicate subtleties of self-improvement as you grow up!

It’s all so clear now!

Stupid us!

Also, her merchandise doesn’t sell very well.

Another good case for her staying as a villain, I guess.

And she’s compared to a monster and a domestic abuser.

This damaged teenage girl.

Yeah, sounds about right.

And all those tender moments where she showed empathy and love were just ‘fake outs’ all along.

Makes total sense!

And anyone who wanted more from her is just ‘delusional’ and is ‘writing the show in their head’.

Exactly!

Except...

That’s not the way it seemed on screen at all.

When she hugged Miss Bustier

Or had a heart-to-heart with Ladybug

When she risked her life as Queen Bee

Showed genuine concern for Adrien

When she finally appreciated Jean-something

And shared moments of friendship with Sabrina

These did NOT come across as part of an elaborate plot twist

From a show which isn’t exactly known for its complex writing.

They seemed to form part of a ladder...

Which would inevitably climb to a true character shift.

Where this flawed teenage girl could take a long, hard look at her life.

And realize she didn’t HAVE to be like her awful mother.

Or as power-hungry as her father.

She could learn lessons from her favorite superhero Ladybug...

Become a better person...

And an even greater superhero.

She could still keep her sassy attitude.

Just be a bit kinder and selfless, that’s all.

But, nope.

EVERY bit of niceness we witnessed on screen...

None of it was real.

It was all influenced by ‘class’.

Even her childhood friendship with Adrien was nothing.

If he was as poor as the rest of his classmates, she would’ve bullied him too.

Straight from Thomas’s own mouth.

One of the best relationships in the show, gone just. Like. THAT.

He also said to ‘redeem’ her at this stage would be too ‘unconvincing’?

ORLY?

I hate to return to critical mode...

But the show ain’t exactly known for its consistent writing.

One minute Marinette is confident around Adrien...

Next she’s a nervous jumble of words.

It sets up two new ships for Mari and Adrien with great fanfare...

Only to ditch them both two eps later.

(Also, what the **** did they plan to do with Lila?!)

In other words, this isn’t a show that plays the long game

Whether this is to satisfy the networks’ demand to air the eps out of order idk.

The point is that trying to tell us that Chloe’s ‘arc’ was some grand scheme...

Where she’d have a few sympathetic moments only to emerge worst than ever afterwards....

I simply don’t believe it.

Either this is terrible, amateurish writing of the worst kind...

Or Thomas flexed his influence behind the scenes...

And put an abrupt end to Chloe’s development before it really got started.

It doesn’t really matter which reason I guess.

What DOES matter is this petty and spiteful man sees fit to bash her in around 70% of his online interactions right now.

He could just ignore the posts but nope, he goes right in there, full throttle. 

You can just tell how smart he is with his intimate psychological breakdowns of why Chloe is the way she is...

When we all know the actual reason... he just couldn’t be bothered.

Far better to create a whole new character, give her none of the depths that could make a developed Chloe such a pain to write...

And then 'reward’ her with the position of Queen Bee, for being super-sweet and as shallow as a puddle.

And oops, make her Chloe’s half-sister or whatever to further rub salt in Chloe stans’ wounds. 

Is the show even gonna tackle the angst that would arise from Mayor Andre discovering his beloved wife had an affair?

Or Chloe discovering her much-loved mother is in fact a cheat?

What about coping with the SHOCK revelation that she... GASP... has a long-lost sister?

Forget it. All that rich potential for human emotions sounds B O R I N G.

Don’t forget that if there’s a major event in this show that doesn’t include the words ‘Love Square’, the makers just don’t care.

Let’s cut straight to a giant golden Zoe (who now looks like a giant golden Chloe) trying to smoosh her now much smaller sister...

While Chloe pushes Marinette and her parents towards the beast to save herself. 

Because of course she does.

Never misses a trick to make Chloe look bad, does Thomas.

It’s a skill you can tell he’s very proud of.

Anyway, back to Zoe...

Despite my harsh words above, I harbor no ill-will towards you.

Your design is decent and you seem like a stand-up gal.

But I hate to say this...

You shouldn’t exist.

It was completely unnecessary from a storytelling POV to create a sibling for Chloe, and your mere presence will diminish the show.

I can say this with utmost confidence after looking at the situation from every conceivable angle...

Without even needing to watch your eps or know why you were created.

(Although, I have a pretty good idea)

Some people might say WELL GIVE HER A CHANCE!!!!

Hmm... no.

Everything the show needs to be successful with Chloe’s character...

It’s already right there.

She does not need a secret sibling

She does not require a sweeter counterpart

And she definitely DOESN’T need Thomas constantly bashing her to impressionable fans online like she’s the Antichrist personified!

Seriously dude, if you hate her so much why bother creating her?

And if you hate her so much... why spend so long talking about her?

Despite his repeated denials, I think something another user here said is very true...

She DOES live ‘rent free’ in his head.

It sickens him that, despite his best efforts, she still has so many fans.

Not to worry, Thomas.

From what I see, there are still plenty of sycophants who agree with everything you say (even if they actually don’t)

After all, it’s enough for some to get a reply from the ‘great man’ himself

Why jeopardize that by trying to engage with him in a meaningful debate?

Especially when we know how handsy he is with the ‘block’ button.

Anyway, this went on for about a thousand more words than I meant it to.

I guess me and Thomas have just ONE thing in common (Thank God)

This is a topic which we both feel VERY strongly about.

The differently is of course, I have far less power in the process, and preach to a much smaller audience.

Still, I won’t let that stop me ranting away like a loon.

Hey, if it’s good enough for him... ;)

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Yeah the Loki finale was meh/disappointing it doesn’t even feel like a Loki show anymore. I swear you could swap him with another character and the story would barely change.

Hi, anon! I'll put thoughts under a cut since idk who all has seen the Loki show yet.

Tbh, Loki is my favorite character from the MCU. I have waited for YEARS for this character to have an actual spotlight...

And I really wanted to like this show, I really did. Like, I legit wanted to just turn off my brain and enjoy everything?

But yeah, your message resonates with me. There were things I liked about the show, but once I got over the cool CGI and angst and female gaze, it just...feels like Loki got sidelined in his own story? The focus hadn't been about him specifically since episode 1. It instead shifted to Sylvie, who is different enough from Loki that she might as well have been Hawkeye still on his Endgame rampage for justice. And it was Sylvie's problems and Sylvie's motivations that drove the story. Which, you know, were interesting in their own way but not what I was expecting from a Loki show. A lot of scenes were just Sylvie running around and Loki somewhat helplessly following along in a daze that this is what his life has become. He was just ultimately a very passive character in someone else's story...because as the finale clearly showed, his core issues that needed to be worked out weren't in alignment with her own.

So it's sad to me that the show opened up by saying that Loki's destiny was always to function as a dead-end catalyst for other people's character development/journeys. And in the end, that's...exactly what Loki became for all the other characters in this show. ;A; And I'm not sure what they have going on for s2, but I fear he'll just play second-fiddle to Dr. Strange at this point.

I have other issues with the show as well....

___

I felt like they also massively declawed him? Ignoring the comics entirely (where he's even more badass) and looking just at the movies: He survived a Hulk smack-down, could toss humans like they were nothing, could travel between worlds through a variety of means, could already see into people's minds/memories and cast illusions and even change his form, and yet somehow all of this got retconned to make him a less powerful sorcerer compared to his Variants.

I remember this guy being actually dangerous and physically capable, which is why they locked him up. Loki used to have Avenger-level capabilities and strength. But now, he can't hardly fight off a human, and his defense skills are relegated to basic hand-to-hand combat and a dagger. The show even makes fun of his abilities and calls him a pussycat and turns him into a tie-wearing analyst...But I suppose that's in line with the general downgrade of his abilities in recent MCU movies...

___

And if being a sidekick in his own show and having his abilities retconned wasn't enough, I feel like the show failed to convince me that it really understood and is working to grow Loki's character.

The underlying issue that the show calls out as Loki's ultimate weakness is that he's "afraid of being alone," and that this feeds a narcissism complex. But this doesn't really make sense to me? Because he didn't grow up alone or unwanted. He had a mother (Frigga) who loved him deeply and taught him magic. He clearly made it into adulthood believing that Odin was his father, who certainly wasn't absent. He was always on adventures with his brother. He had clearly tried to build a reputation for himself that was differentiated from his brother's (the Silvertongue). This goes against how narcissists don't really have a personality of their own because they just absorb other people's mannerisms to fit in...So like, idk about parsing out the details of narcissism as a clinical diagnosis because I'm not a psychologist, but something feels a little odd here to me? Like, it's more than just...fear of being alone that drives Loki to be destructive? The loneliness is only a symptom??

The problem based off the early movies, providing that I'm not entirely an idiot in listening (which I suppose I could be), was that he was always in Thor's shadow and was never considered an equal, someone worthy of respect despite their differences. Even in the 2009 movie, his peers belittled his title as a Silvertongue and his love for magic. Discovering that he was actually an unwanted frost giant just twisted that knife in deeper and set him on a self-destruct path, once and for all. And it's really interesting to me that throughout this show, people are still constantly trying to establish themselves as alpha over Loki and make jabs about him as worthless and weak. And he's just desperate enough for validation to still try bonding with them the instant anyone tosses a bone of mild curiosity at him.

The fact that he's still positioned as less valuable and less respected than Sylvie, and that even Sylvie herself ultimately usurps equality in their relationship/partnership to enforce her will is just...depressing.

And for all this discussion about Loki changing/redeeming himself, at the end of the day, his perspective hasn't really changed? He still identifies himself as untrustworthy, even though he careens as a desperate lap dog for Mobius' approval and then Sylvie's once she gives him an ounce of attention. He has difficulty with accepting the value of a life, especially in regard to his own life. For example, he was still willing to consider upholding the death of future untold numbers via pruning despite being such a victim himself. And that's not a slam to his worry about a worse alternative, which is probably valid, but it's still weird that he does not believe he could contribute to a powerful resistance group capable of taking out multiple variations of one human man.

It's even weirder that he still seems to be caught in a tailspin regarding "necessary dictatorship," even though Loki is supposed to be a Silvertongue and could have won He Who Remains over as an ally against the other Variants of He Who Remains, thereby dismantling the TVA and freeing the multiverse. But unfortunately, he still can't see beyond two binary roads (mass chaos vs. subjugation). He has totally lost his confidence and identity as a Silvertongue. He can't see an alternative option despite supposedly being a Master Strategist, and that's echoed in how his initial thought to defeat Alioth was to kill it in a very Thor-ish, Asgardian way.

And because he has accepted the show's narrative that he is not capable or worthy of respect for his own unique talents, he openly just..accepts the concept that he's not meant to mean anything to anyone but himself ("I just want you to be okay") or do actually anything meaningful with his abilities. This probably underscores why he is so incapable of using his full powers for a Chaotic Good.

And for one final jab of hopelessness, the show immediately reverses the one (1) other mildly positive relationship he had just started to build via Mobius, solidifying that once again, Loki is not allowed to have friends. Loki is not allowed to have equals. Loki is not allowed to be respected. Which is probably why even when he's surrounded by other people, that's why he still feels alone.

I'm just sort of dead that for all the time the show spent on diagnosing Loki, it never got deep enough to ask why he feels alone.

Conclusion

So idk, the show just kinda depressed me tbh. I don't want to be this critical??? They have really great actors, interesting concepts, and clearly a strong CGI department. Again, not sure I could do better, so I recognize I'm playing armchair critic here. Maybe it'll get better in s2. I really want this show to prove me wrong and move Loki into a level of character development where he can like, actually have purpose in his own title show beyond serving as second-fiddle to other people in other people's self-discovery journeys.

Like please, just let him realize that he can have a positive, meaningful purpose. And that whatever his purpose is, that he is Enough just as he is, and that he can contribute meaningful things to others and be fully worthy of respect. And I think once that clicks with Loki, we'll see him really grow into something phenomenal. Something truly formidable, even if that character doesn't sit on a throne....

It's possible the show could go there? But I'm just a little leery that it's not really a show about Loki....

[infinitegalahad]

RAY IN THE BATHROOM

Summary: Ray is hiding in a bathroom and has a panic attack over the fact that his only real friend and the love of his life has (supposedly) left him for Brad.

Word-Count: 2.1k

Warnings: References of suicidal thoughts, ptsd, and severe anxiety. Brad is a semi-asshole. Hop on the angst train (with fluff at the end!)

A/N: I was listening to Be More Chill because let's just say that I can heavily relate to Micheal In The Bathroom due to recent events in my life. So then again, what better way to cope then using my biggest kin, Ray Person, in a totally not self indulgent fic?? Also as for the prompt requests-i'm working on them! Sorry, school has been bad. I'm keeping a promise to myself to release at least once a a week and I'm on a gen kill rampage. Idk what else to add so enjoy!

Taglist: @theboardwalkbody

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

Ray doesn’t expect himself to be hanging in the bathroom at their first year reunion. But instead of “hanging”, he’s hiding. Those emotions that never come out are now coming back to haunt him. Ray knows he can't hide behind a shit eating grin and sunglasses. He leaned up against the tub inside of the cramped room, his sunglasses tucked into the neck of his polo as tears sting his eyes.

Ray’s legs felt numb and he knows if he looks into the mirror and sees his flushed face and eyes, he won’t be able to conceal his crying. He’s not able to go back outside and would prefer to fake pee or just check his phone in the bathroom.

“C’mon brah!” Q-tip whined like a child, crossing his legs. “This hurts like a butt cheek on a stick”

“You can’t come in!” Ray yelled as he held back a sob, “The little man is going. Suck it up, buttercup.”

Q-tip had been knocking on the door for over ten minutes before giving up and choosing to pee outside. Ray let out a shaky sigh and fell onto the thin side of the bathtub, biting his lip and he batted his wet eyes with his palms.

Ray and y/n had been an unexpected trio. Partners in crime, double trouble, you went well together despite their differences. You were an educated college student and he was a whiskey tango mess who couldn’t shut his mouth for the life of it. You cried, laughed, and did everything together. Little known to y/n, Ray didn’t have a crush on her-but he was more than in love.

However, when Ray is having severe social anxiety, an event he would typically rely on y/n to help him with, his “partner in crime” falls short. Ray knows that y/n is light years better than him. Here was the smartest and most beautiful woman he had met next to a college dropout who didn’t make it past Geometry.

Now the “perfect pair” is severed, leaving one half alone in the bathroom.

Ray’s forgotten how long he’s been in the bathroom for. These types of events always felt forced, and everyone knew that. Whenever that awkwardness would arise, Ray and y/n would choose to ditch and steal a few beers and sit in the bathtub, watching an obscure eighties film in the dark, cramped room with Ray’s god awful commentary.

But even though Ray has Born American downloaded, he can’t bring himself to watch it. Now he’s laying in the bathtub, picking at grout as he softly grieves. He’s hiding in there while y/n is ignoring all of their history.

Ray first arrived at the party, making a dramatic entrance. He made sure everybody knew that he was there, especially y/n. His original plan was to wear a purple tux he had snatched from walamrt since it was ugly as fuck, and Ray knew that. But knowing that you were going to be there, Ray made an attempt with an expensive navy polo and khaki shorts, courtesy of Nate.

Upon seeing you, Ray ran over from whatever he was doing to talk to you. Whether you were OD’S or a casual jumpsuit, you looked dead drop gorgeous-and Ray never knew how to express his affections. So he pulled you into a hug and muttered a shitty joke, and you just laughed.

Over the course of the next hour, the two of you catched up about your mundane lives. It made Ray feel guilty since he knew that you were better than him in every way possible, on the road of success. Your future sounded like you would go to some fancy school and then marry a lawyer. Ray wanted to be good for you, but he didn’t know how to at all. He followed you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the party, feeling a tinge of jealousy whenever one of the guys would give you a chaste hug or when you wouldn't pay attention to him for five minutes.

Ray didn’;t know why the fuck eh was feeling so sappy. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating (even though that’s exactly what he wanted).

Ray doesn’t hate Brad, but he just hates whenever he talks to you. He sees the two of you, smiling and laughing as you catch u[. Ray knows it’s rude, but he buds in and offers to get drinks for the “three amigos”. You kindly accept and Ray goes away to get drinks. He makes sure to spit inside of Brad’s drink as a childish act of revenge.

As Ray walks down the hallway balancing the three drinks, he pauses to hide behind the door since he hear’s Brad mention his name. You and Brad had moved to the couch, sitting too close for Ray’s comfort levels. He had an arm slung over the couch, which was barely touching you, but Ray had taken it as an offense.

Standing by the doorway and leaning, he overheard Brad’s words.

“Ray’s a little shit, whiskey tango loser, sister fucking, type of man. I don’t know what you see in him,” Brad had casually said, cold and straight to the point. He truly lived up to his name.

That’s when Ray dropped the drinks and ran towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear you respond, and that was the last thing he needed to hear.

Now Ray’s sitting in the tub, no longer holding tears back, but there coming out. A sob escapes his mouth and he tries to smile, but he can’t. He gets a taste of his salty tears and tries to stop the waterworks, but they come back, bigger and faster. It’s been a while since he had a good cry-but it happened at one of the most inconvenient times. And it was over a stupid girl-who he coulnd’t deny that he was in love with.

But y/n was lightyears ahead of him. Besides, Brad was (seemingly) a better fit for her. The scenario began to play in Ray’s wild mind. The memories of “double trouble” will get erased. Their wedding will be small, paid for by the Colberts. Q-Tip will DJ, Godfather will make a speech with his horrid voice, and Ray will make a shitty joke as usual. Worst had come to the worst.

Ray hears a drunk Q-tip sing along through the door to “I wanna dance with somebody”. His feelings sink even deeper cause it makes him think; now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. That was y/n’s favorite hobby about these forced get-togethers.

Ray knew that at some point, he’d be forced to come out. As he chokes back the incoming tears, he waits until his face becomes dry, planning to blame it on weed or something in his eyes or the five bud lights he regrets drinking.

Knock, knock, knock, knock

Ray looks up and wipes his face, forcing a fake laugh. “Oh hell yeah, I'll be out soon.”

“Ray, it’s me.” It’s y/n’s voice, and Ray can’t believe it’s her. A part of him wants her to come in, but the other part wants him to defend himself.

“Why do you want me to come out when you can hang out with your new big strong viking? Who talks all educated and shit since you just love being around him.” Ray spits out with a few sniffles.

Based on his words and the sniffles, you can tell something is clearly wrong.

You shake your head and lightly knock again, “Please, that’s not what happened. Brad’s an idiot, and we’re just friends. “Please, come out.”

Ray got out from the tub and came close to the door, feeling your frantic breathes again the door. “My biggest mistake was showing up. I wished I stayed up watching cable porn, or I offered myself. Besides, he’s better for you. Just go away.”

Hearing him say such things made you worry even more, afraid that he could do something to himself that he’d regret.

“Ray, open the damn door. Don’t say dumb shit.” You pleaded, frantically twisting the door knob. The worry was evident in your voice.

“No, fuck you! Fuck this whole place. You’re smart; just leave me alone.” Ray banged against the door as tears came down his face. He immediately regretted his choice of words, knowing that they would hurt you. He turned away to return to the bathtub, only to stop when he heard you now sniffling.

Mega fuck.

Ray reluctantly walks back to the door and opens it, to see your face, all red and wet like this. Both of you stood there, disheveled, tears both running down your face.

Not a single word was spoken between the two of you as you ran into his arms, pulling him close as you cried into his chest. Ray used his foot to slam the door shut and then proceeded to pull you into a bearhug, stroking the back of your head as he comforted you through your sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated as his tears stained your shoulder as well, “I didn’t-fuck. I’m such a retar-” He froze, knowing that you hated that word. “Idiot. I just-fuck. Don’t cry. You’ll ruin all the stuff on your face-”, Ray said as he tilted your face up and started to wipe your tears.

“Makeup. ‘S fine, I’m not wearing much. I just didn’t wanna get mistaken for a middle schooler again.”

Ray and you both let out a chuckle in the midst of your shared crying session. He’s still wiping the tears from your face as you rest your arms on his waist.

“First time we met, y’know. Godfather thought you had a dick for a long time.” Ray added, which earned another laugh from you.

You shook your head, “Remember when Trombley found out I was a girl?”

“Looked like he was about to shit himself-he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Ugh, ‘s a nightmare.” The two of you filled the void with the awakened laughter you shared. Ray’s tiny hands moved to your chin, directing it slightly up.

“I still think you’re pretty hot either way, angel.” Ray confessed. The two of you looked at each other for a minute, seeing the love and pupils widen in both of your eyes. Standing on your toes, you and Ray’s lips gently pecked at each other. You could taste the bud light on his lips as Ray’s lips overpowered yours, gently cupping and sucking passionately.

“Fuck,” Ray breathed through the kiss as your foreheads touched, “I love you.”

“Shit, I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” You chuckled as your finger’s played with Ray’s dark hair. It’s gotten longer, and it’s at a length where he can awkwardly style it, but since Ray is Ray-it’s a mess, “I love you too. I’m sorry about Brad, you know how he is.”

“I just thought you and him were having a moment. I just started overthinking it since I thought you didn't wanna be around me. Which is chill, I was vibing,” Ray attempted to joke, which was a way to cope with his pain.

You shake your head and hold his face to reassure him. Ray looks down at you in awe, which makes a smile curve on your lips.

“Brad wasn’t touching me, he just was stretched out on the couch. Ray, don’t say that. You were in the bathroom for over an hour. I knew that you were ethier upset or having explosive diarrhea from Nate’s vegan casserole-or both.”

“That shit was beyond nasty. I bet he got all the ingredients at Trader joes and sold his soul just to buy it.” Ray quickly quipped.

“Jesus, don’t make me vomit.” You huffed as you looked at the bathtub, “Now are you gonna come out now without beating up someone?”

“Yes babycakes, as long as you do one thing.”

Cringing, you force a smile. It’s not because you don’t love him, but sometimes what comes out of his mouth can be questionable. “Yes Ray?”

He grabs your hand, which fits right into his. “Gotta show the homies who’s the alpha around here.”

You don’t mind holding Ray’s hand. You like the tight squeezes and the feel of his soft skin. As the two of you walk out of the bathroom back into the life of the party with the smell of barbeque and the august heat in the air.

“Oh god Ray, shut up.”

Ray simply responds with a goosey laugh.

[yoichichi]

Pretty People Supremacy Playlist 🖤

for my angel @1010andneji , I hope you love it 🖤

disclaimers: fem!reader, because this a request for someone with she/her pronouns, I believe the reader is referred to as she/her a few times, Kenma is aged up and this is based in him attending University just to be clear‼️

warning: it gets a little saucy in the make out department ?

gif not mine, credit to owner

a/n: ahhhhh!!! I’m sorry this took so long and I really hope you like it and you felt like it was worth the wait! Please let me know if you need me to change anything ‼️ i luv you bae 😔✊🏼 also thank you to my wife @ikigaitooru for helping me choose your matchup here! I was stuck between one other person but we ultimately decided on Kenma, we both believe he exhibits prime quiet himbo energy :) also I kind of went off and wrote a lot on this one 😶 sorry I think? Regardless, I hope you enjoy!!!

Relationship Headcannons

Ok so ultimately, I paired you together NOT just cause you thinks he’s pretty but I think you guys would be so good together!! Like you would be so good for him

You guys would balance each other out socially and just be the best pair to hang out with pleaseee

He knows he can be stupid and chaotic with you and you know you can let yourself wind down with him!!

Kenma CAN be blunt sometimes so I’m sure he’d have to catch onto your sensitivity at first, but he’d be so sincere if he ever accidentally said or did anything that made you feel some type of way

And once he is aware of your sensitivity he’s constantly reassuring you in little ways, not only that he understands and is trying to comfort you but just to reassure you he loves you, for example :

HAND SQUEEZES

I know some people have mentioned that he wouldn’t be into PDA but I disagree! It’s just not in the conventional let me be all over you types of PDA

I feel like it’s just not a big deal to him cause he’s like 🤨 what do I have to be embarrassed for?? This my mf baby and I’m gonna hold her hand if I want to ??

Like, I see him as a big hand holder frfr

He would just see it as such an easy way to be physically close to you and even if that’s just holding pinky’s he’s down!

It would also help him if he’s feeling anxious!

Like he’d fiddle with your hands and fingers if he’s feeling particularly antsy or nervous

OH

You guys are out and he wants to go in a different direction? He’s definitely bringing your hand to his lips to give a quick peck and pull you along

“C’mon, let’s look over here”

AND HES SO NONCHALANT ABOUT IT TOO LIKE HE JUST DOESNT QUITE REALIZE THE EFFECT HE HAS ON YOU WHEN HE DOES THAT (he totally does but he likes to be slick and act like he doesn’t 🙄)

He would also DEFINITELY let you play with his hands if you’re nervous or bored or whatever reason honestly, he’d find it soothing and knows it occupies you or fills a need (and you get to look at pretty Kenma hands c’mon now)

ANYWAYS there are other little ways he’d reassure you too besides hand squeezes and holding

Definitely the type to leave you little notes in places for you to find them and they’d always say such simple things like “hi- kenma <3” LMAOOOO PLS HES TRYING HIS BEST

I think the final biggest way he’d love to reassure you would be words of affirmation (this is definitely a private thing)

I think he’d still deliver them in a blunt manner but that’s how you know he’s sincere!

You two would just be chilling at his place and you’d do something simple like, ask how much water he’s drank today or play with his hair and tell him he shouldn’t overwork himself and he’d just look at you so seriously and be like, “I really appreciate you, you know that?”

And it’d be sort of deadpan but like !!!

And he’d just kiss your hand after - always the palm - and then he’d just press his cheek into your hand before kissing it one more time and moving on like that literally just didn’t happen KENMA KING OF HAND KISSES

Okok moving on before I get stuck on his hands again anskdkdksiaj

So we don’t talk about himbo Kenma enough!!!! Like ok

He’s NOT big and ripped like ya know Bokuto and he seems super smart but I’m telling you this man is a quiet clueless himbo ‼️

You can’t tell me you’d be talking on and on about biology or something and he’d just have this little lost look in his eye while he’s nodding along and smiling softly listening to you talk and you’re like ,,??

“Wait, do you even understand what I’m saying?”

And he’d really just be like no :)

“but your eyes are really pretty and I like watching your lips move while you talk :) (this man is also a king of innocent flirting and you can’t tell me otherwise!!!)

OMG and if you’re even the slightest bit flustered by his comment he WILL notice and he’ll do his best to hide his sly little smile and just grab one of your hands and squeeze it and be like, “keep going, I’m listening”

KENMA HIMBO NATION RISE

Ok ALSO you two would literally just be such a pretty couple? Just like so pleasing to look at????? Like you’re both so pretty it’s unfair! And your style OMG

Like you’re just so soft like the epitome of 🦋✨👼☁️☺️ girl and 🎮🎱🖤👾🌙 boy ykwim???

and his long hair PLS Kenma man bun supremacy 🙌🏼

I can’t stress enough how pretty you two would be it would just make sense seeing you two together ugh

UGH you dying Kenmas hair for him?? And he’d just sit cross legged in a chair while you do it and he keeps leaning and moving to wherever you are around him cause your hands are in his hair and it’s so soothing!! What’s he supposed to do??

“Kenma, stay still you’re gonna bet bleach on my shirt!”

“But didn’t you wear that in case bleach did get on it?”

“Kenma-“

“I’m just saying if that’s the case then I don’t understand why I can’t hug you while you bleach my hair? 🤨”

“😐”

“Ok so-“

“Kenma.”

“😒”

Yeah queue pouty Kenma acting indifferent 🙄✋🏼

Just give him a kiss on his nose and he’ll get over it even though he’ll feign his grumpiness to get treated like a baby a little bit longer

UGH PLS I GOTTA STOP I COULD GO ON FOREVER

Bottom line, Kenma’s your quiet little himbo and you’re his loud soft girlfriend, and it’s one of the most adorable things ever

Ok, so we’re finally to what you came for LMAO, your playlist!

OKOK so similar to the first one I made, there’s no theme besides music taste so I tried to make this like a soundtrack of your guys relationship if that makes sense?

I really hope you enjoy and please let me know if you need any changes or would like to be paired up with someone else 🖤‼️ Without further ado, your songs and explanations!

1. Siren - Kailee Morgue: ok I think this one still kind of fits the vibe you’re looking for but you can’t tell me Kenma didn’t see you as some bewitching vixen who’s caught his attention LMAO like he’s just like 👁👄👁 she’s so pretty and entrancing help me! and he’d try to be like haha I’m cool I’m cool I’m fine 😎🥴😎 but it’s so obvious he likes you too (you’d kind of be able to tell with the way he looks at you and how it took so long for the blush to leave his neck and ears whenever he’d talk to you) but he just really decides he has no choice in the matter, he wants you so bad LMAO

2. Juice - iyla: more off the first one, the way you just appeared into Kenmas life LMAO like he saw you and just 😳🥴😍‼️ and once he started to feel real feelings he’d be so 🏃‍♂️💨 WHERE THE FUCK DID SHE COME FROM??? But he wants you so BAD he can’t do anything about it, and now not only does he just want you 😳 but he wants you and he wants to be yours , pls he has it hard

3. See You Again (feat. Kali Uchis) - Tyler, The Creator: ok this is like THE song to your guys relationship just UGH I know you two would have such pining. Kenma would DEFINITELY be nervous to even talk to you at first cause he’s definitely like 🥴 she’s prettt hhng and he’s so shy and you just have such HEART EYES over him and you don’t even hide it that well LMAO (“it’s them rose colored cheeks yeah it’s them dirt colored eyes 😔😩”- u @ him) and it just makes him so NERVOUS!! But you two would definitely dance around it for a bit like you’d just be so 😍‼️ He’s pretty and shy hehe I like him gimme gimme 😍 and he’d be so flustered by it at first until you guys FINALLY get over yourselves (when kenma stops being a baby LMAO) like you guys jus wanna kiss so bad and literally everyone’s like JUST FUCKING DO IT, SHIT it’s adorable really

4. Doves In The Wind (feat. Kendrick Lamar) - SZA: ok I know this song is kinda saucy an idk if it’s overplayed but listen YOU CANT TELL ME THIS ISNT KENMAS FUCKING ANTHEM!! like he jus absolutely jams to this song definitely a sza stan and loves playing vibey music like hers during his gaming sessions but like the way he would worship the ground you walk on and be like mf im HERS do not get it twisted, in no way does she belong to me buT THE WAY I BELONG TO HER WHEW ‼️

5. Moment - Victoria Monét: ok why do I feel like most of the songs I added on here are vaguely steamy LMAO but ok this song? Yeah whew 💨 this is definitely one of those songs that play while you two would be lazily making out with those little led lights on (you just know kenma has those) and you two would just be laying there and know this is one of those moments you guys are never gonna forget. Your hands are just roaming and caressing each other while your lips are locked and you guys are so breathless and it’s just wow, you guys must have manifested each other cause this moment is so perfect between you two. And even though it’s a little sloppy it’s so intimate and you both feel like you’re living in a dream. messy hair flushed Kenma whos breathing heavy? Yeah I think so

6. Deep Cuts - Healy: Kenma is always trying his hardest to be the best he can when he loves something. We know this we’ve all seen him and Tora when it comes to volleyball and the way he gets with Hinata. And this wouldn’t change when it comes to your guys relationship, he is constantly going to be putting in his best effort to get to know you better, be the best boyfriend he can be to you and make you feel as loved as he can. He’s memorized everything there is to know about you and sometimes he gets lost in that and it makes him insecure about himself from his overthinking (you can’t tell me he’s not a chronic overthinker) and he’d forget to just enjoy himself sometimes. Like Kenma stop stressing, you can relax when you hold her hand. But he’d reach this point with you when he’d probably be being a bit difficult and you’d just make him feel so loved. He had been overworking himself again, which you HATED. You could tell from the bags under his eyes and the way his hair was messily pulled back into a low bun and the way the neckline of his hoodie showed he wasn’t even wearing a shirt underneath. But it was date night!! So what if he was tired and overworked quality time is important to you!!! I mean, that’s what he’s thinking. But you would just pull him into a hug and kiss his forehead and start to undress into comfy clothes and he’d be so confused like ?? Uhm, date night?? And you’d just pull him to your shared bed by his sleeve and under the covers and into your arms while you just kissed the top of his head. You’d take his hair out of his bun and run your fingers through it getting rid of some of the tangles and just be so CARING to him. “Let’s just stay in, you’re tired and I’d rather lay with you while you get some sleep, we can always go out another time.” Yeah he’s in love that’s it ‼️ you make him feel like he’s exactly enough for you as he is and that’s all he wants pls tbis is so long and for what??? Like this could be a Drabble in itself??? Anyways

7. Easy - DaniLeigh: you guys are definitely an exclusive couple but you really show Kenma what it means to just take it slow and relax! After the date night (deep cuts) he knows it’s ok to just relax into your guys love and he doesn’t have to force or rush anything cause it all comes naturally. Secondly , the WAY THIS BOY MAKES YOU FEEL - he just always looks at you with these deep eyes that hold so much love and it makes you feel so exposed every time cause he just loves you so much and it’s so intense l. It makes your face heat up cause he so clearly thinks your perfect. Also, this just gives total late night ride vibes. Kenma would definitely be driving on the freeway and this song comes on and he just places his hand on your thigh while he’s driving and he’s humming along to this song and he can feel you staring at him so he just casts you a quick side glance and goes “hmmm?” And you’re like 👁👄👁 nothing (Kenma is the king of late night car ride music fr)

8. CPR - Summer Walker: ok I don’t even need to explain myself with this one, the song is so self explanatory! You just make each other feel so at home. Point blank ‼️ like Kenma will just think back like 😇 where would I be without this bitch the thought makes him truly sad and he likes to avoid it at all costs

9. Rain - Lucy Park: pls this song is so soft (I hope it fits the vibe ahhh!!) but this is just more of kenma being an absolute softy for you LMAO. He’s not very good at taking care of himself sometimes and you’re always there to be like 😡‼️ NO‼️ and it makes him so soft he can’t help it, it’s not that he does it on purpose cause that’s insane but the fact you know his limits when even he doesn’t sometimes blows his mind and he’s never felt more loved than in those moments (let’s bring up Deep Cuts again 🙄✋🏼 pls this boy just needs someone soft to put him in his place LOL)

10. moonlight - dhruv: ok but when Kenma knows he’s in love with you, he has to tell you. And what better way to tell you than, well, tell you. He’d definitely try to plan it in his head to be perfect like ok what’s her favorite place? Where’d we first meet? Should I tell her there? Should our song be playing in the background? Kenma, your himbo and over thinker tendencies are showing, just tell her already! It’d be early in the morning, and you two are making breakfast together while he’s listening to you ramble on about the recent events of your favorite show and he’s just smiling and nodding, doing his best to recall the other plot points that have happened. And you, distracted with your ranting, go to take a bite of your freshly made breakfast- which is still scalding hot. You IMMEDIATELY start panting and drop your fork, running over to the faucet and shoving your head under it doing your best to soothe your mouth with the cold water. And Kenma feels awful, but this is fucking hilarious. So sure he’s holding your hair back so you can really get that water but he’s dying in the process. Almost keeled over and gripping at his stomach type laughter and you’re swatting at him to no avail and he just can’t help himself, “oh, fuck I love you.” He said it between his gasps of air from laughing and didn’t even realize it. Not until you stood up fully with water still dripping off your chin just looking at him. This idiot immediately started apologizing like omg this isn’t how I wanted to say it ahhhh but you assure him this was perfect, and that you love him too (pls love this man he can’t help but love you too)

11. Easily - Bruno Major: does this count as angst? ok call back to Kenma being an overthinker who overworks himself and probably overlooks his own needs at times, there’s bound to be some tension between you two at times. You’re concerned about his health and he insists he’s fine but you know he’s not, and while I don’t ever see him blowing up on you I could see little arguments about his self-care habits. Sometimes he stays up too late, or he’s stressing himself over something that doesn’t need that much thought! Regardless, he knows you just love him and he does the same thing for you and he just needs to get better at not being so stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself. And he just hopes that you know he loves you and appreciates what you do for him even though it doesn’t seem like it all the time, and that hopefully you won’t give up on him.

12. Streets - Doja Cat: ok I added this one mainly for the vibes but like you can’t tell me Kenma isn’t pined over in university LMAO. Like he’s pretty and polite but also indifferent, mentally ill bitches eat that shit UP; and there’s PLENTY of those in university LMAO. And like you aren’t a toxic possessive person don’t worry but MAN he’s fighting these girls off with a stick at this point LMAO and he just doesn’t get it pls, like he’d definitely be the partner in an assignment who just comes prepared and is kind of quiet to a fault but is so nice and just gets his shit done. Would also offer a pencil if you forgot one and maybe I’m just a whore but that gets me everytime 😌

13. Kiss U Right Now - Duckwrth: ok mainly for the vibes but !!! You and Kenma in the kitchen cooking and this song comes on and he comes up behind you and turns you around and your faces are all close and he keeps singing “I think I wanna kiss u” and smirking but he’s just ghosting his lips over yours instead and moving his head back every time you try to kiss him and giggling before doing it all over again! giggly Kenma supremacy

14. Butterfly - UMI: ok we been talking about how much Kenma would be devoted to you, but like you wouldn’t be the same!!!! Kenma means so much to you and you do your best to show your care and all you wanna do is see him happy as much as he wants the same for you, omg you guys are so in love it’s gross 🤢

15. Pick Up Your Phone - Hojean: what more can I say!!! You guys just love each other and love spending as much time together as you can!! (I like ending these playlists with a really happy mood :) )

——————

Here it is! Thank you for being so patient and I really hope you like this! I always get nervous posting for my baby’s 🖤 love you cutie!

-🐇out